The male workers spanned from their teens to middle-aged, capable of fulfilling the workforce role. Randy wondered how many soldiers John had under his command, though it must be quite a few. One older man walked past Randy wearing a towel wrapped around his waist and a pair of slippers.
“It’s like a big, weird summer camp,” he said to himself. He stood and wove between the cots toward the restrooms and lockers.
“First shift starts in forty-five minutes,” a man called out as he walked between the rows. “Last call if you want scrambled eggs.”
“Powdered eggs again?” someone called out. “No thanks!”
“These are real eggs,” the man beamed, and several sleepers leapt up and dressed fast.
People passed one another near the lockers, mingling, nodding greetings as they carried on with their business without a man like Odom breathing down their necks. He sensed folks here had a purpose, and that purpose gave them hope.
Randy took care of his morning business and looked for Jenny. He didn’t find her near the lockers, so he left the gymnasium floor and walked into the lobby area. People milled around and poured cups of coffee from one of a dozen beverage stations scattered throughout.
A flash of red hair drew his attention to the trophy case, and Randy squeezed between people and slid in on Jenny’s right where she leaned against the wall.
“Hey, sis,” he whispered harshly in her ear, startling her.
Jenny whirled and slapped him lightly on the arm, yet a grin beamed on her face. “There you are. I gave up on you last night and went to bed.”
“Last night,” Randy gave a slow nod and sucked air between his teeth. “That’s an entire story.”
“Tell me at breakfast.
“Think Tricia will be up?”
“Only one way to find out.”
Jenny led her brother to the exit and into a clear plastic tunnel that wove between the trees at an incline. Randy hadn’t seen the tunnel well in last night’s darkness, though the morning light exposed its clever ingenuity.
John’s people had hung hundreds of tarps with ropes and hooks, reinforcing any gaps with heavy tape. From what he understood, a team sprayed the inside of the tunnel with disinfectant each night and performed routine air quality checks to ensure no spores got inside.
They’d paved the floor with grip mats so the workers wouldn’t slip, and the tunnel was wide enough for two people to walk side-by-side.
The twins followed the flow of traffic as the tunnel wove back and forth down the hill until they reached the parking lot. From there, it was a straight shot over to the warehouse facility. The morning din reached Randy’s ears, and the smells of cooking eggs, bacon, and pancakes wafted through the tunnel, causing his stomach to roar.
“I’m always hungry,” he complained as they stepped out of the tunnel near the cafeteria.
“I have no sympathy for you, Mister Hungry Hippo.”
“That’s cold, sis,” He made a dramatic face. “My world for some pancakes!”
“Hey, guys!” Tricia waved at them from the side. She still used two rolling chairs to get around in an awkward, but effective, fashion.
Randy gave her a high five as he got behind her and pushed her toward a table. “I’ll get you a wheelchair one day, darlin’. Soon as I get that big promotion.”
“You promise? Can you get me a house with a white picket fence, too?” Tricia batted her eyes up at Randy, and all three of them chuckled.
“I’m serious,” he said, glancing down. “It’s more for me than you. You’re a pain to push around right now.”
“Shut up,” Tricia reached back and grabbed his arms playfully before letting her hands drop into her lap.
His eyes lingered on her. She wore her light brown hair down, and the pleasant smell of her shampoo floated around his nose.
They loaded up on food and picked a place to sit. Randy noticed several people looking askance at them, though he suspected it wasn’t unusual for the camp to receive new survivors every day. He set Tricia’s tray in front of her and sat down.
“We’re always the newbies,” Jenny frowned. “It would be good to stay in one place for more than a week.”
“I won’t get my hopes up like I did with the Colony,” Randy said, looking around. “But so far it seems cool. John’s a good guy.”
“You’re getting a lot of appreciative looks, Jenny.” Tricia raised her eyebrow as she picked up her fork and dug into her eggs. “You might even find a boyfriend. I mean, if you’re looking.”
Jenny rolled her eyes and spoke in a mock English tone. “None of these peons can please the queen.”
“They better be careful.” Randy’s threat came out harder than he intended. “They mess with my sister, they mess with me.”
“I can handle myself, big guy,” Jenny said with a soft sneer. She tore off a piece of pancake and stuffed it in her mouth. For Jenny’s entire life, she’d never put syrup on her pancakes but tore them apart and ate them dry. She raised an eyebrow and talked with her mouth full. “Speaking of end-of-the-world relationships, when are you two getting married?”
Randy felt his face catch fire, though Tricia only laughed and winked.
“Probably next week,” she said. “We’re looking into the camp’s wedding planning services. I’m thinking we might go with a fungus theme.”
Tricia let her ridiculous comment hang in the air before all three of them broke into a chuckling fit again. His spirits soared from the laughter, and he looked back and forth between his sister and Tricia as he dug into his food.
“You going out with the scouts again?” Tricia asked.
“Yeah, about that.” Randy made a wincing expression.
“Spit it out,” Jenny said. “What happened?”
He relayed to them the previous evening’s events with Dodger, spending a lot of time on the magnificent Tesla SX and how they’d flown around town like a supersonic mouse.
“Interesting,” Tricia said. “John’s people will run circles around the Colony until the Colony changes tactics and finds more adaptive vehicles for themselves.”
Randy nodded. “That’s what Dodger said. Anyway, we spotted a Colony truck go by, and that’s where we ran into trouble.”
“What street?” Tricia butted in.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “We moved around the city so fast it made my head spin. We were on the north side, I think. A place called the Caramel Creek Apartments. I could see the downtown buildings from our position.”
“I know right where you’re talking about,” Tricia nodded.
Randy continued recounting how they’d listened to Kim Shields stumble into a trap and how he’d taken the CB out of Dodger’s hand to warn the woman. His words rushed out telling how he and Dodger had laid down a suppressing fire to help Kim escape, then he finished with their flight from the Colony soldiers doing a hundred and twenty miles per hour in the Tesla.
Jenny clicked her tongue. “I leave you alone for a few hours and look at the trouble you get into.”
“I know.” Randy made an obvious gesture with his fork. “John gave me an earful when we got back to camp.”
Tricia made a wincing face. “Did he chew you out?”
“Not really. He seemed happy I’d helped, but he said I was wrong for jeopardizing Dodger and the camp.”
“He’s right,” Tricia said. “The way John’s group operates, there’s no room for error. You can’t give up clues about who you are. They know to look for a black Tesla. And you probably pissed them off, too.”
“I know that now. Warning Kim seemed like an obvious decision, but I guess I wasn’t thinking of the bigger picture.”
A young man about their age approached the table and stood looking down. He was a thin kid with a mop of dark brown hair and deep brown eyes, and he stood an inch taller than Randy at six-feet four-inches.
“Can I help you?” Randy asked with a furrowed brow.
“I’m here for Jenny,” the guy sai
d, and his attention switched to his sister, who cleaned her tray up and stood.
“And you are?”
“This is David,” Jenny replied, then she switched her attention to the tall guy and grinned wide. “David, this is my brother, Randy.”
“How could I miss the resemblance?” David held out his hand with a sideways smile. “I’ve only known Jenny for a day, but she told me all about you. She said you were an athlete in high school.”
“I was.” Randy shook David’s hand, drawn in by his disarming attitude.
“I played basketball. We should swap stories sometime. I mean, considering the infection canceled our sports forever. All we have left are our memories of games.”
“Yeah, that sounds great,” he replied, and the poignancy of David’s comment struck him in the gut.
“Take my tray up, Randy?” Jenny took David by the hand and led him away without waiting for a reply.
He watched after them. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Your mouth is hanging open,” Tricia chuckled. “Might want to close it before you catch a fly.”
Randy shut his mouth. “I don’t want her to get hurt.”
“We live in a cruel world now, so I get that. But she can protect herself just fine. Plus, you can’t be a hypocrite.”
“What do you mean a hypocrite?”
“Well, you like somebody, right?” Tricia’s eyes searched his face. “So, why can’t your sister?”
“I do like somebody." Randy met her eyes.
Tricia leaned closer. “You want to know something?”
“What?”
“I’m proud of you for what you did last night,” she whispered, “warning that Kim woman.”
“I thought you said John was right?”
“He was, but no one else on this planet would have saved that woman, including me.”
“No way,” Randy scoffed. “You would have saved her in a second.”
Tricia grabbed the arm of his chair and pulled herself even closer until her face was six inches from his. She gave him an affectionate smirk. “You’re so stubborn, and you can’t carry out an order to save your life, and—”
“I’m a total failure,” he smirked back. “That’s why I’m relegated back to warehouse duty.”
“But you’re not a failure.” Tricia raised in her chair and planted a kiss firmly on Randy’s lips.
Her lips’ softness amazed him, and the kiss lingered until the rest of the world burned away and only the two of them remained.
Tricia pulled away and slowly opened her eyes. “You’re not a failure. You’re a hero. And if I’m ever in trouble, I’d be lucky to have you by my side.”
Chapter 23
Moe Tsosie, Chinle, Arizona
Moe woke up to the morning sun cutting a hot swath of light across his face. He groaned and shifted on the porch glider, and his rifle slipped off the seat and clattered to the front porch decking.
“Oh, crap,” he mumbled. He reached for his weapon, but the sun forced him upright. He turned his face away from the harsh light, but it beat down on him no matter how he tried to escape it. Only when a bank of gray clouds blocked the golden rays did Moe find relief.
He stooped to pick up the rifle and got to his feet, gazing to the northwest toward town. Fires still burned, leaving black smoke trails in the sky. At least the gunfire had died, but that could mean many things. Either way, he didn’t want to face the destruction of his hometown.
With a sigh, he left the front porch and entered his house. He heard running water in the bathroom, so he leaned his gun against the couch, crossed through the dining area, and entered the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.
As the coffee was brewing, Sage peeked her head into the kitchen.
“Good morning,” Moe said. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Troubled, but not bad,” Sage gave a hesitant smile. She’d slept in his bed despite his warning about the prodding springs and how it sagged in the middle.
“Good.”
“What time is it?”
Moe gestured to the battery-powered clock hanging on the dining room wall. “It’s eleven-thirty. I guess I overslept.” He gave her a sheepish look. “I have to confess; I fell asleep during my shift.”
“It’s fine,” Sage shrugged it off. “We must have been tired. Especially you. You rode that four-wheeler all night long. You must feel like you lived through an earthquake.”
Moe chuckled. “That’s an excellent way of putting it. Yeah, I’m a little beat up.” He handed her a cup of coffee and directed her to the back door.
“What’s wrong with the front porch?”
“Nothing,” he said, gesturing at his face. “Except it’s facing right into the sun.”
“Oh, no,” Sage put her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. “You slept in it. Well, you don’t look too sunburned.”
Moe grunted and guided her through the back door to stand on his modest deck. The wood needed refurbishing after fifteen years of drying out. It might be better to tear it down and build another.
A pair of old deck chairs sat near the rail, and he gestured for Sage to take one.
“Thanks.”
“I have done little with the yard.” Moe winced at the dirt yard between his house and the stony drop into the shallow part of Canyon de Chelly.
“You have horses?” Sage pointed off to the right at the animal enclosure.
“Two horses.” He gave a proud nod. “Copper and Rust. They’re beautiful animals.”
“I assume someone watches them when you’re away driving?”
“Rex and his son take care of them. They can ride them whenever they want. It’s good exercise for them.”
“You don’t like it here, do you?” Sage asked. “I mean, aside from the horses.”
“You can tell?”
“The place looks like you haven’t cleaned it in years, and I noticed someone’s things are packed up in the spare bedroom.”
“Those things belong to my brother, Tobe.” Moe nodded.
“I see,” Sage said, and her expressive eyes seemed to absorb his pain.
“His death was tough on us, but especially for my mother. And it was our stubbornness that killed her.
“Stubbornness?”
“Despite Tobe’s addictions, he helped Mom around the house,” Moe explained. “I think he reminded her of better days. After he died, neither me nor my sister came home to help her. Waki had her life in Many Farms, and I had my driving career. Sure, we came to visit, but we never came home for good.”
Sage blinked. “That is really sad. I’m sorry.”
“So, you nailed it.” Moe scoffed. “There are a lot of memories in this house I haven’t revisited. Honestly, I feel more like a ghost than a person when I’m here. But as time passes, I see my selfishness. I had the power to make my mother’s life better by simply being a better son, yet I didn’t.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Sage patted his arm. “We’re all guilty of not being good people sometimes.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Sage withdrew her hand and took a sip of her coffee. Steam drifted up in the cool desert morning. She stared out at the canyon as wisps of black hair fluttered on her cheeks. “My mother was sixty-four when she experienced her first cognitive decline. She became forgetful of where she’d put something, or she couldn’t remember things that happened in the past. We knew it was bad when she forgot my father’s name from time to time.”
“I’m sorry, Sage,” Moe bowed his head in respect. “That had to be hard.”
“I was just finishing up medical school in New Mexico and I’d accepted a new job at a hospital when my father appealed to the IHS for funding to pay for her advanced care in Window Rock. They turned us down for almost a year before they finally let her in. A short time later, they canceled the funding.”
Sage took another sip of her coffee, swallowing slowly as she seemed to replay the events in her head.
“The problem with
all this,” she continued, “was they moved my mother back and forth between home and special care. It took a toll on her progress. The fight to keep funding wore on my father. When Mom finally came home, he quit his job to take care of her.”
Moe nodded in understanding. “Your father assumed a lot of the burden.”
“And he kept these things from me.” Sage’s words grew rushed. “He always said things were fine and not to worry about Mom. When I came home to visit, the house was always clean and in good shape, but I didn’t guess the darkness my father faced. Without a job, they couldn’t afford Mom’s medicine. She got worse, fast.”
Moe stared down at his lap, giving Sage the time she needed to get the words out.
“By the time I confronted my father, I was making good money. More than anyone in my family had ever seen, and I’d even saved a lot. So, I came home to help, taking a position at the local hospital at Window Rock. It was far less money than I’d been making, but we could finally afford the medicines she needed.
“Unfortunately, her condition had become irreversible, and she passed away in confusion.” Sage drew a deep breath. “As the pieces came together, and I realized they’d kept me shielded from the situation, I confronted my father in anger. I told him I could have helped sooner if he’d only asked. You know what he told me?”
Moe shook his head.
“He told me he and Mom lived for me, and they’d only ever cared about my happiness. They’d seen their daughter rise like an eagle, get her college degree, and win her independence from the Indian reservation. He puffed out his chest and told me I’d made our entire family proud, and I was an inspiration to my nieces and nephews. They didn’t want to bring me down with their problems. They...”
Sage gasped and expelled a frustrated sob, and she stared out at the dirt. Then she raised her chin in defiance. “I wouldn’t talk to my father after that. I couldn’t bring myself to forgive him for not asking for my help. All it would have taken was a simple phone call, a simple explanation.”
“I’ve seen that kind of pride before,” Moe said. He reached over to pat her arm. “It can be painful, though I suspect your parents meant well. They wouldn’t have purposefully hurt you.”
Spore Series | Book 3 | Fight Page 14
