Pablo grabbed the shotgun from the ground beside his chair. Jessie scooped up the kitten and ran to Amelia and Curly Sue. Bruno growled.
“Who’s out there?” he demanded, underscoring the question with a click of the shotgun’s safety.
“Just friends. No need for the gun, Wyatt Earp.”
The voice belonged to a small figure stepping into the meager circle of light. He had never seen such an odd looking person in his life.
“You seem like decent folks, which is why my hands are devoid of weaponry. See?” The small man wagged empty palms. There was a smile buried within a muzzle of red wool.
Pablo chambered a round.
“Okay, amigo, we’ll cut you some slack because you’re clearly the protective type, but I’ll need you to stop pointing that flintlock at my tiny friend.”
The voice was female, a fact confirmed the next moment when a tall, slender young woman with dark hair wearing a black t-shirt and camouflage pants, glided into the dim light. She would be stunning if it weren’t for an air of ruthlessness she exuded. The revolver aimed at his chest didn’t help either.
“Right,” he said. “I’ll lower mine when you lower yours.”
The next moment, the shotgun was plucked from his hands and held by a smiling man who might have just stepped off the cover of GQ Magazine.
“Who the hell are you people?”
“Survivors,” the golden-haired man replied. “Just like you.”
Now that they were fully in the lantern’s light, Pablo saw tired, dirty people. The girl lowered her revolver but still managed to appear menacing, like a coiled viper.
“Don’t worry about that one,” the small man said with a smile. “She’s housetrained. Mostly.”
The man winced from the bicep punch the girl delivered with lightning speed, then said, “I’m Fergus. The Greek god over there is Sam. You can trust him. He’s aces. The scary female is Dani. You’d be wise not to test her patience, especially when she’s on her period.”
Another bicep blow elicited a pained yelp.
The bloodthirsty smile on the girl’s face was rather unsettling, but he felt himself relaxing. He glanced at Amelia, who wore an amused expression. Jessie’s huge eyes slid from one new face to the next, her mouth agape.
His gut instinct told him he needn’t fear these people, but Pablo still hesitated.
The GQ guy, Sam, offered the shotgun back with the business end pointed downward. His other hand was extended in greeting. “You’ve been carrying the weight of the earth on your back. It makes sense you’d be cautious.” Kindness was evident in the voice.
Pablo returned the handshake. The handsome man’s grip felt warm in his, despite the coolness of the October evening.
“Yes.” He paused, then said, “I’m Pablo. This is Amelia and the little girl is Jessica, although she prefers Jessie. Maddie is inside. She’s my girlfriend,” he added with another glance at Sam’s face. “She’s been injured. Long story, but we think she’ll recover.”
“What a co-winky-dink,” the red-haired man said. “Sam here has had a recent injury too. He’s healing remarkably fast though. Hopefully your Maddie will too. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Pablo. And Amelia, what a delicious creature you are.” He reached for the small hand and lifted it to his lips.
Was Amelia blushing? It was difficult to tell in the low light, but there was no mistaking her flirtatious grin. This little guy was a real character.
Maddie called from inside. He snatched up the lantern and dashed to her bed just as her eyes fluttered open.
“What’s going on? Where are we?” She frowned when her gaze reached the doorway where the newcomers stood. “Who are they?”
The little man, Fergus, introduced himself and his companions.
“How do you feel? How’s the headache?” He stroked her cheek. Her skin felt cool to the touch. No fever.
She didn’t acknowledge his caress or his questions; her attention remained fixed on the strangers. Suddenly her sleepy eyes opened wide as she stared at the young woman in the doorway. “Honey Badger!”
“Oh my,” the small man said, his attention shifting from Maddie back to Amelia. “What do we have here?”
Amelia returned his gaze wearing the same enigmatic smile from before.
“Who is Honey Badger? Do you remember what happened in the car earlier?” Pablo felt left out of the loop, like everyone else knew the punchline to a not-very-funny joke.
In a bemused voice, the woman said, “I’m Honey Badger.”
“What does that mean? Is that some kind of code?” He was getting more frustrated by the second.
Maddie patted Pablo’s hand. “It’s okay, Pablo. We’re not staying in Oklahoma. We’re going to Kansas with these people. We’re needed there. And soon.”
###
Two figures came together under cover of night. One of them reached out a hand to touch the hair of the other.
“You’ve more gray now, my darling. It becomes you.”
“I’ve been out longer this time than ever before. My bones ache.” A coy smile in the darkness.
“My bone also aches...for you.”
Silvery laughter.
“You’re still the same lascivious creature after all these years.”
“Of course. Why mess with perfection?” A smile in the deep voice.
“Not much longer now.”
“Yes. A respite will be welcome.”
“For me too. I think I will sleep for a year. Will you be joining me?”
A pause.
“I may travel east before I come in. I have a hankering to see the Atlantic Ocean again.”
“Oh.” Disappointment in the voice.
“But after that...”
“Very well. Just don’t wake me when you slip under the covers.”
A low, rumbling chuckle.
“My darling, I intend to wake you in a most exquisite way.”
The two shadow figures merged briefly into one before separating and gliding in separate directions.
Chapter 44
Kansas State Line
“See that sign, Logan? We’re about to cross the Kansas state line! We’re very close now! Look at the map and see if you can figure out how many miles to Liberty.”
“Okay! I can do that!”
Julia’s enthusiasm was contagious. Everyone in the car seemed a bit giddy. Even Brains had shed his chronic pissed-off demeanor and was sitting upright in his cage.
“I think we’ll have just enough gasoline without having to siphon more.”
“I’ll suck the gas if we have to get more. I don’t mind.”
She smiled at him. Ever since they’d absorbed the old man into their group, Logan had been well-behaved. And Thoozy had proven himself the perfect travel companion: good natured, charming, funny, and someone with whom she could have an intelligent, adult conversation.
“Have you ever been to Kansas, Thoozy?”
“Yes ma’am. A remarkably flat place, quite windy, hot as Hades in the summer, and I seem to remember there were a lot of curvy, corn-fed goddesses.” The golden smile and warm eyes softened the implication.
Julia laughed. “Yes, I remember those things as well. It’s been a few years since I’ve been there. Steven and his family traveled to California for visits, rarely the other way around.”
“Your brother sounds like a fascinating gent. I’m looking forward to meeting him.”
“What’s wrong, Logan?” she asked, noticing the sudden downturned mouth.
“I’m worried about the people in Kansas. I’m afraid they might not like me, like lots of other people didn’t like me before they all died. It’s been nice with just you and me.” He shot a pointed look into the back seat.
She considered her words carefully before responding. “You have many good qualities. You’re helpful and funny and enthusiastic, just to name a few. Perhaps if you make more of an effort to show people these nice traits, and talk less about your guns and suc
h, they’ll like you better. But even so, there will always be some who just don’t like you. I’m sure there were people who didn’t like me before,” she laughed. “Not everyone will like us. That’s life. But I like you, and no matter what happens there, you will always have a friend.”
The shy smile told her she’d chosen her words well.
She glanced at the rearview mirror, wondering if Thoozy would contribute, but the old man seemed lost in his own thoughts as he watched the passing terrain and the darkening sky.
Unbidden, she heard his voice in her head: Julia, why have you hitched your wagon to such a potentially dangerous young man? She shrugged the voice away.
“This will be our last night on the road. I think we should have a celebration. What do you think about that, Logan?”
“You mean a party? Will there be clowns and balloons? I hope there won’t be clowns.”
“Of course there won’t be clowns. No balloons either, but how about extra desserts from our rations?”
“That sounds great! Can I make a fire? I’m very good at making fires now.”
She sighed. “Yes, you may. Maybe we’ll have a few games of Clue. Since you insisted we bring it with us, we might as well play it. Thoozy, I have something for you too.”
“What would that be, Doc?”
“Something tells me you’re a scotch drinker, and I just happen to have some twenty-five-year-old Macallan saved for a special occasion. I think this qualifies.”
“Oh my, yes. That would be delightful.”
Just as the sun began sinking below the horizon, they found a roadside motel. It might have been built during the Carter administration, but there were no cars in the parking lot, nor other signs of life. It would do fine for their last night.
The chill in the air justified the small fire Julia let Logan build on the cracked pavement, but she knew she would have allowed it even on a ninety degree evening. The poor boy must have led such a lonely life; ostracized by his peers, perhaps neglected by a harried working mom...no real fatherly influence in his life except the neighbor he’d spoken of a few times. She vowed to make up for those years. Fate had thrown them together for whatever reason, and with some patience, kindness, and some trips to the library where she planned to learn more about his condition, she hoped to provide a suitable environment for developing positive, useful skills.
“The first thing I plan on doing when we arrive is to take a long bubble bath.”
“Where will we live?” Logan’s anxiety was still evident.
“We’ll probably stay with Steven for a few days until we can find other, uh, accommodations.”
She watched the old man over the fire. His white head contrasted with the backdrop of the night sky and reflections of flames danced in his ebony eyes. He wore only a ghost of a smile tonight, not the usual broad grin. He held her gaze, sphinxlike, until she finally looked away.
She knew what he was thinking. How could she bring this young man into the home of her brother and nephew? It was one thing to take on that risk herself, but quite another to expose others. Well, she and Steven would figure it out. She would explain her research findings in detail, and give him a full description of the occasional troubling behavior during their journey from Palo Alto. Then she would let her brother decide what to do. His house, his rules.
The decision brought a measure of relief.
Logan set up the Clue board with the obvious happiness of a child. In a grand gesture, he turned to Thoozy and asked, “Would you like to be Professor Plum or Mister Green? I’m Colonel Mustard, so you can’t be him. I’m always Colonel Mustard.”
“Of course you are. I’ll be Professor Plum. I’ve always aspired to higher education. ‘Professor’ makes me sound like I must know a lot of important stuff,” he said with a wink for Julia.
She returned the wink with a grin.
Logan watched the exchange with narrowed eyes.
Chapter 45
Liberty, Kansas
“We can’t allow it, Steven. She would be risking more than just her life, you know.” Marilyn wore the pinched, worried expression that he had begun to appreciate. It meant the keen intelligence was hard at work, approaching problems from all angles at once, unlike his method, which was laser-focused and sported blinders.
“I’m open to suggestions, but I don’t see any other way to do this. We have to have a mole in place. Someone who can corral all the victims in one location. Otherwise, we risk injuring them along with the bad guys.”
Tung’s IEDs sat on Steven’s driveway, four of them in all. Each of the five-gallon buckets from The Home Depot contained a cotton sack that had been steeped in diesel fuel then filled with ammonium nitrate. Two-foot lengths of gasoline-soaked rope snaked out of drilled holes in the lids, converting the familiar orange buckets from innocuous to nasty business. Explosives didn’t get any simpler than this, and that was fine with Steven. Even if they’d been able to locate dynamite or black powder, Tung said the handling of those types of incendiary items was unsafe for novices and he would prefer not to build them. Besides, in a farming community such as theirs, ammonium nitrate had been easy to find at the local feed and grain store.
Everyone but Marilyn and Tung had left. The final meeting before the rescue mission had lasted three hours and resulted in a plan that was almost as simple as the bucket bombs. It would begin by allowing one of their own to be taken captive.
Marilyn pursed her lips even tighter, then said, “Perhaps I could do it?”
Steven gazed at the plain face in the fading light as he struggled with a diplomatic response. He glanced at Tung, whose expression was as stoic as always except for a slight twitching around the corners of his mouth.
Marilyn laughed. “Oh, Steven. If you could see your face. Yes, I know I’m no beauty queen, but perhaps those men aren’t picky. I could get dolled up and wear a push up bra. You know, I actually have an acceptable décolletage for a woman in her forties.”
That was one of the qualities he appreciated in the former librarian: her candor. He understood now why his wife, who had many friends, had allowed this woman into her inner circle.
“No offense, but we need a sure thing. And Lorilee has a good head on her shoulders for an eighteen-year-old.” He was referring to the sharpshooting female in Chuck’s security team who had volunteered for the job of mole. It was inherently risky and his stomach knotted up when he thought about the danger this young girl would face, but the decision had been made. Lisa had been furious at being turned down for it. Not because of vanity, but because they were sending this teenager directly into the wolves’ den. Steven had flat-out refused to risk Lisa’s horticultural skills. An entire hour had been devoted to this decision and a few people, Lisa included, had left angry.
It was important to think beyond the rescue operation, to their future and the food that would be needed to survive. As horrible as it sounded, the eighteen-year old was simply more expendable.
Marilyn sighed. “Very well. We’ll let this dead horse rest in peace.”
“Good. I suppose we should all get to bed. Tomorrow is a big day.”
Just then, two sets of headlights appeared at the end of the residential street.
“Damn it. What now?” Steven was exhausted and desired nothing more than to eat the dinner Jeffrey was preparing inside, then fall into bed. He placed his hand on the Glock in its holster.
Three pairs of eyes watched the unfamiliar vehicles inch down the street, then stop at the end of the driveway. The passenger window in the first vehicle, a Toyota Highlander, slid down with a mechanical hum. A bandaged head with short-cropped hair poked through the opening.
“We’re here to help!”
###
“You’re asking a lot of me. I’ve never believed in this psychic nonsense.”
Steven would get little sleep that night. The group of strangers sitting in his living room were an eclectic mix. The assertive female, Dani, reminded him of someone but he couldn’t
place who it was. The young Hispanic man hovered near the pretty, ‘psychic’ girl with the bandaged head, while covertly studying everyone else. The red-haired fellow was an oddity for sure. The Native American woman had barely said ten words and kept the little girl close by — another curiosity with those huge unblinking eyes. The kitten she clutched seemed content to stay in her arms. He wondered if the child were mute since she hadn’t spoken in the hour they’d been there. The good-looking guy was obviously in love with the self-assured young woman, but her body language didn’t reveal if they were a couple. The dogs they’d brought were well-behaved and already bonding with Molly.
“Let’s skip on down,” Dani said. “We’ll assume we’re all on the same page regarding the ESP stuff. Tell me the plan. You said it’s going down tomorrow?”
Wordlessly, Steven sought input from Tung who stood across the room, then from Marilyn next to him on the sofa. Marilyn’s shrug said: Why not? Tung remained impassive.
He took a deep breath, then relayed the plans for the rescue operation that would occur the next day. Dani leaned forward in a chair, elbows on her knees. Her intensity was almost palpable; an invisible aura of ferocity.
“I’ll be the mole,” she said when he was finished.
“We have a volunteer.” Even as he spoke the words, he knew this girl would be a vastly superior choice.
“Right. An eighteen-year-old who’s handy with a gun. Please. Sam, let’s show them what we can do. Push the chairs back.”
All eyes watched as the two sparred in an unknown form of hand-to-hand combat, moving with lethal grace but not quite landing blows. It was a thing of beauty. The lithe bodies glided and gyrated with feline fluidity, anticipating the action of the other in perfect synchronicity. The demonstration lasted five minutes but Steven was convinced thirty seconds in. She was right. She had the physical allure they needed to insure she would be taken into the enemy’s camp, plus the chops to handle the danger.
The two came to a balletic stop and turned to face him. He laughed and broke into grudging applause. When the girl smiled, he realized in a flash who she resembled.
Troop of Shadows Page 33
