Reckoning in an Undead Age

by A. M. Geever

  She jumped and yelped at the knock on the door, a there and gone jolt of fight or flight instinct ripping through her from head to toe. This is totally ridiculous, she told herself while her racing heart settled. She reminded herself that they weren’t even dating, for Pete’s sake, and to get a grip. She pulled the door open and froze. Alec stood on the stoop, the sly smile slipping across his lips.

  “Did ya see a ghost, Miranda?”

  “What? No,” she said. “I just— I was just here at the door. Your knock startled me.”

  “Sorry about that.” Then he looked at her but didn’t say more. She was just about to make an excuse that she needed to go meet Rocco, because she apparently was going to wimp out, when he said, “You’ve been avoiding me.”

  She opened her mouth to deny it, but one look at Alec’s face told her that he would call bullshit if she tried. Besides, what did she think it was going to accomplish? She looked down at the ground, chewing on her bottom lip, before looking back to him.

  “Yeah,” she said, drawing the word out so that the wince didn’t show only on her face. “I have.”

  Alec’s grin filled with surprise. “I thought you’d deny it.”

  “I almost did, but you wouldn’t buy it.” They looked at one another, then she said, “I guess you better come in.”

  Alec stepped inside, following her to the kitchen, and shook his head no when she offered him a drink. She leaned against the counter, and he did the same, so close beside her that their arms and shoulders touched. He was as casually relaxed—and sexy—as ever. Like he always was. It made her relax, and wonder why she had bothered avoiding him in the first place.

  “You know,” she said, then stopped. She looked at the wall in front of her, unsure where to begin or how to explain.

  When it became obvious that she didn’t have more to say, he said, “I really don’t. You’re going to have to tell me.”

  She turned her head, giving him a half smile, because she would swear he was purring with the way his accent burred his Rs. It tickled her ear in the nicest way.

  “You make everything so easy, Alec. Sometimes I wonder what the hell is wrong with me, and why I can’t just run with it.”

  That smile of his, slow and sly, arced to his eyes, crinkling their corners. Amusement filled his voice. “You’ve never once in your life taken the easy way, Miranda.”

  A small laugh escaped her. She felt caught out, a mixture of embarrassment and bashfulness swirling within her, that he already knew her so well.

  “I don’t…I don’t know what to tell you. I like you so much, Alec.” She groaned. “God, that sounds lame.”

  She didn’t want to say that she wanted to be friends. She did, of course, but it was so weak. And usually, when you weren’t the one saying it, insulting. Besides, it wasn’t accurate. It didn’t come close to conveying what he meant to her, but she wasn’t sure what would.

  “But you’ve got unfinished business to attend to,” he said softly.

  And just like that, her eyes filled with tears. She looked down at her feet, hating that she was crying. Again.

  She searched for the right words, making two false starts. “I don’t— I didn’t— It’s always been…complicated, one way or the other. I wanted to be done with it—with him—so much…just move on. But he’s there.” She shrugged. “I don’t even know what he wants anymore, but…”

  Alec pulled her to him. His arms around her felt good and right. Her chest began to hitch, but she managed to avert a full-on sobfest by concentrating on how his body felt against hers. She let his warmth, the feel of him, ground her, pull her back into the moment, like he always did. He took her face in both his hands, wiping away a tear with his thumb. His smile was gentle and unguarded, as were his eyes.

  “However it goes, you have to figure it out. You’ve become…” It was his turn to cast about for the right word. “So much more than a friend.” He let go of her face, and the sly grin returned. “It’s probably for the best anyway.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ve been thinking of breaking my rule for you. Maybe see if I liked getting tangled up.”

  “Really?” she said, startled and flattered. A woman would be hard-pressed to do better than Alec.

  “Aye,” he said. “But if I’m going to do something like that, I should probably pick a lass who’s actually interested.”

  She smiled, a flush of embarrassment coloring her face as she swiped at her eyes, because it wasn’t that she couldn’t be interested if things were different. He caught her hand in his. She looked at him, feeling shy, and almost wishing that things could be different.

  “We’ll take a step back, then,” he said. “I could tell there’d been something recent, and that you weren’t going to talk about it. And I’d said nothing serious. I wasn’t going to break my word. Phineas filled me in.”

  “Fucking Phineas,” she said. “There’s no such thing as privacy anymore.”

  “Ah, he’s a good lad. He was concerned, that’s all, and I appreciated it.” His eyes became wistful, and his smile faded, tinging his handsome face with a hint of sadness. He brushed her cheekbone lightly, like a wisp of fog. “I don’t like feeling that I’m taking advantage of you.”

  “You’re not,” she said, because it was true. “My mess is…my mess. You’ve never taken advantage of me, Alec. Never.”

  “But I’m starting to feel that way, whether you agree or not. I won’t do that to you.”

  She looked at him for a long moment, then said softly, “You’re making this so much easier than anyone else would.”

  “I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I made it hard.”

  He kissed her, pulling her close, his lips warm and familiar by now. His scent overwhelmed her, earthy and sweet. Gratitude flooded her heart, that she had stumbled into the warmth of the circle cast by Alec’s generosity. His kiss told her he was open to more if that was where she landed, but also to letting her go. She was breathless when they broke apart. Her body cried out to have him touch her, to feel his skin against hers, and despite everything that she had so recently admitted to herself about how she felt, and who she loved, there was a part of her that wanted to feel how they moved together one last time.

  His heathered hazel eyes were as beautiful as she’d ever seen them when he whispered, “If you end up with him, remember that you’re my bonny lass.”

  She ran her thumb over his chin, committing to memory the sandpapery feel of his dark scruff. “I could never forget.”

  He took a step back, but not, somehow, away. “I’ll see you at dinner with the rest of the gang?”

  “You will,” she said, knowing that it wouldn’t be weird between them, but easy, like it always was. Like it was now.

  She walked him to the door, and after he left, leaned against it. She’d never done anything like this, wanting to remain friends, to stay connected with a lover after saying goodbye. She had always moved on after scorching the earth behind her, never looking back because it hurt to remember the good. Instead, she’d always held close the bad. But there hadn’t been any bad with Alec. Maybe that was the trick—to get out before there was.

  Unfinished business… So much was unfinished, muddled up and dredged to the surface since encountering Hussein, Fatima, and Susie. She’d been so sure it was Mario, and the thrill of seeing him again had taken her by complete surprise. She hadn’t anticipated the feeling any more than she’d anticipated the event, and now… Now her stomach felt like a pit of anxiety and fear that she couldn’t get out from under.

  Which made what had just transpired between her and Alec all the more remarkable. He was an easy target—the perfect target. She could have directed all the uncomfortable feelings and confusion at him. Once, she would have, but she was tired of blowing things up. She was tired of needing to scorch the difficult things out of existence before she could move on, or turning the hurt on herself, with razors and alcohol and whatever else was at hand.

  Per
haps Rocco was right. Perhaps she was—finally, fitfully—opening up, without the expectation that all the world would give her in return was heartache and sorrow. Perhaps she was beginning to let herself experience the good without holding herself back or apart, in anticipation of the moment it all came crashing down. Perhaps she could untangle the knots she had bound herself with, without needing to fasten new ones in their place. Perhaps she wasn’t to blame for what had happened to her baby, and was wasting everyone’s time by insisting that she was.

  But that thought was too diaphanous to hold on to, slipping into and out of her grasp like a strand of silk plucked from a spider’s web. She needed to know if Mario meant what he’d said—if he really believed she’d left their baby behind. Whatever his answer might be, for the first time she knew it wouldn’t kill her if he blamed her. It would hurt, wound her deeply for a time—a long time. But whatever his answer, one way or the other, she thought—she hoped—that it might set her free.

  The best part of the last several days, by far, was Rocco’s stunned, slack face, followed by a ‘Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,’ that wasn’t exasperated and directed at her. The waiting since, however, more than offset it. Miranda was a hair’s breadth away from going around the bend if this took much longer.

  Pallets of food were in place in the hangar. Two more trucks were in running condition and would be used if they couldn’t get the helicopter repaired. Victor had done nothing but work on it since they’d arrived. Once the trucks were ready, Sean joined him. If will and desperation were able to assist the repairs, Miranda was doing her part. Sean and Victor pulled bird nests from the engine exhaust, and wasp nests from pitot tubes, whatever they were. Kendall thought the birds might had gotten in through the ventilation system, as he’d seen them from time to time. She knew they’d been doing something with the rotors…greasing the blades, and something about a hub. She didn’t know what any of it meant, except that they were maybe getting closer to getting the damn thing to fly.

  She hovered by a pallet of food in the almost deserted hangar. It was just past seven in the morning. She’d been surprised to find Victor and Sean already at work, and was trying not to be too obvious about the fact that she was loitering.

  Sean’s feet appeared on the rear ramp, followed by the rest of him. He pushed his red hair off his face and raised his voice. “At least tell me you have coffee.”

  “Yes,” she said, grabbing the thermos she’d brought with her. When she reached him, she said, “How’s it going?”

  “Nearly there, I think. Victor’s testing the ignition sequence right now.”

  “Really?”

  Sean nodded.

  “Goddammit! Goddamn, asshole, motherfucking piece of shit,” was followed by Victor stomping into view and jumping down from the helicopter’s side door. Miranda almost felt the floor rumble under her feet.

  “Guess that didn’t go well,” Sean said to Miranda.

  “I give up,” Victor said, sounding disgusted.

  “The whatchamathingie?” Sean asked.

  “What else?”

  “What’s the whatchamathingie?” Miranda asked.

  Victor’s frowning face was a thunderhead of frustration. “Electrical.”

  “Electrical how?” she asked, trying to think of who might be able to help. Tessa was gone, but there had to be someone else at LO who could help. Or the guy at P-Land, but first they’d have to ask Kendall if it would be okay to bring him here.

  “Just electrical,” Victor growled, his glower almost daring her to push her luck by asking again. He reminded her of a toddler who had missed his nap and was a hair’s breadth away from a meltdown. There were bags under his blue eyes, and fatigue made his movements sluggish.

  “Oh,” she said, as if he’d cleared everything up.

  “I’m gonna get some sleep,” he continued, rubbing on his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I’ve been up a while.”

  “Almost twenty hours,” Sean said helpfully.

  Victor grunted, then walked away. Based on his uneven gait, it looked to Miranda like he was nodding off as he walked.

  Sean said, “He was still here when I arrived an hour ago. I don’t know how the guy does it. If we don’t get this puppy flying, it won’t be for lack of trying.”

  “Do you have any idea how much longer it’ll be?”

  Sean shrugged. “None, but the closer we get, the crankier he is when he can’t get something to work. Cars are my speciality, so I’m just a glorified assistant.” He yawned, then drank more coffee as he stood. “You up for some breakfast? I’m starving.”

  Miranda nodded. “Maybe Rocco will join us.”

  Sean’s eyes flicked quickly to her when he nodded, and she saw a flash of pleasure in them. Huh, she thought. She barely knew Sean, but the glimmer in his eye did not look platonic. She smiled to herself. God knew she needed a distraction, and mentally playing matchmaker wasn’t a bad way to do it. She’d have to find out more about what kind of people Sean liked to get busy with.

  She was going to lose her mind if Victor didn’t make a decision on the helicopter soon. She’d been itching to leave for San Jose almost as soon as she’d learned Victor could fly it, even though she hadn’t discussed the idea with anyone. With the fuel cell Kendall’s company had developed, the helicopter’s range—which was normally twelve hundred miles—increased by another five hundred before it needed to be recharged. Or whatever it was that it needed to stay powered; Miranda was still a little fuzzy on that. But first they had to get it flying, and ferry food to LO.

  She paused in the door to the stairwell, glancing back across the hangar. The helicopter looked like a squat, prickly sentinel. Or maybe a reluctant hero, waiting to be pressed into service. She needed a hero right about now, to carry her home as quick as they could. Home wasn’t a place, but the people she loved.

  “Please,” she whispered as she followed Sean into the corridor. “Please God, let this work.”

  She heard Kendall and Rocco’s voices as she entered the garden dome.

  “I know diddly about this stuff,” Rocco said. “Hydroponics are a whole other thing.”

  Kendall’s voice was lower, his reply a murmur that Miranda’s ear couldn’t catch. Rocco and Kendall had their heads together by one of the hydroponic units—the one growing beautiful heads of butter lettuce. A pang of longing twisted her insides. She’d taken over the day-to-day of farming at LO since she’d decided to stay behind and hadn’t really missed the Farm. Seeing their heads together while Kendall explained the system to Rocco filled her with longing. She didn’t miss the bullshit and the politics and the constant scheming required to keep the Council at bay, but the Farm had been her idea, her baby. Instead of returning home to it with the others, she’d let it go without much thought.

  “Hey guys,” she said.

  They looked up at the same time, Rocco’s relaxed, blunt features a contrast to Kendall’s finer, more anxious ones. Even so, she was pretty sure Kendall was comfortable around Rocco, which she got. You knew where you stood with him, whether you wanted to or not. Rocco had also softened his usual bull in a china shop approach.

  “Can you believe this? You barely mentioned what this guy can do with PVC pipes and gravel.”

  “I know how to do this stuff, too, Rocco,” Miranda said. “It’s more than pipes and gravel.”

  “Miranda is very knowledgeable about hydroponic systems,” Kendall agreed.

  “Yeah, well, I guess hearing about it and seeing are different,” Rocco said. “How’s it going with the repairs?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, her discouragement showing. “They’ve been saying they’re close for the last two days now.”

  “I’m actually quite impressed with their progress,” said Kendall. “Apart from the fuel cell, that helicopter hasn’t been properly maintained for a decade.”

  “I know,” she said. “It’s just, it’ll be safer to take the food there than drive.” She bit her lip, reluctant to adm
it why she really wanted the damn thing to work.

  Rocco glanced at Kendall. “She wants to take your helicopter to San Jose.”

  “Rocco!” she cried.

  She stole a look at Kendall, afraid to see a look of feeling used on his face. Instead, he said,

  “Given the recent events there, that makes sense.”

  “I wanted to talk to you about it first,” she said to Kendall, shooting Rocco a filthy look. “I’m not assuming anything, Kendall. It’s your helicopter, and I’m not a nine-year-old who’s too afraid to ask.”

  She glared at Rocco again. He looked unrepentant.

  “Of course you can use it,” Kendall said. “But first we’d need to be sure it’s good for a long distance.”

  Relief hit her in waves. She hadn’t realized she was so nervous about his answer.

  “And Victor will have to agree,” Rocco added.

  The wave of relief transformed into a cold shock of icy water. She hadn’t thought about that part—at all.

  “Won’t he just do what you tell him?”

  Rocco smirked. “I thought you weren’t a nine-year-old too afraid to ask.”

  “I’m not,” she answered, too quickly. “I just…” She glanced to Kendall. “We don’t really get along.”

  Rocco’s laughter boomed and echoed off the walls the dome. “That’s the understatement of the century. And it’s you who doesn’t get along. He wants to, but you… Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, you’re stubborn.”

  “Will you ask him for me?” she said, a cringe in her voice that grated on her ear.

  Rocco gave her a baleful stare. “You’re the one who needs a pilot, and I’m not the one who’s treated him like pond scum the last few months. Clean up your own mess, Tucci.”

  She’d known he’d refuse, but she couldn’t help being a little annoyed.

  Kendall said, “I could ask—”

  “No!” Rocco and Miranda said simultaneously.

  Kendall actually took a step back, looking startled.

  “I’m sorry,” she said quickly.