by Lucin, David
Jenn felt about two feet tall, but she took a step toward Sophie and said, “If we try to transport him, he’ll die. Simple as that.” She turned to Dylan, who nodded in support. “There’s a hospital nearby. It might have what he needs. Lionel’s giving us the trucks and we’re going there ourselves.”
Sophie growled in response. Jenn’s hindbrain told her to back away, but she held her ground. Then, a tense moment later, the muscles in Sophie’s neck relaxed. So did the vein on her forehead. She tapped her chest and pants pockets, cursed, and bit a fingernail. “You on board with this?” she asked Dylan.
“I am.”
“And you think we can do it?”
He ran his hands through his hair. “Yeah. I mean, it’s possible. I have no idea what we’ll be dealing with down there. If the road here was any indication, it’ll be a nightmare farther south, but this’s what we’ve been training for, right?”
“Wait,” Jenn said. “Training? Training in what?”
Sophie scoffed. “I have a pretty clear memory of me telling you at Minute Tire that I’ve been preparing for this. I also remember you calling me a doomsdayer—a label I never really cared for, by the way. This?” She gestured around to nothing specific. “This has been a long time coming. To be honest, we were screwed before the war even started. So yeah, we’ve been training. We aren’t special forces by any stretch of the imagination, but I guarantee you we can give some gangbangers from modular housing a run for their money. Dylan here did as much during your little episode in Camp Verde.”
Jenn tapped her foot. “So . . . does that mean we’re going?”
“Yes,” Dylan said with a friendly shove. “She means yes.”
Sophie stole a glance at Ed, who slept peacefully on his cot. “I’ll take care of convincing my husband that this isn’t completely insane. I fully expect him to fight me tooth and nail and tell me he doesn’t want us risking ourselves for him and blah blah blah, and when he does, I’m throwing you under the bus, Jansen, with absolutely zero remorse.”
To Jenn’s surprise, she smiled. Coming from Sophie, that might have been a compliment. “Not a problem with me.”
“Good.” Sophie planted a firm finger below Jenn’s collarbone. “Go talk to your buddy Lionel over there and get our stuff ready. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
Jenn spun around, but before she could step toward Lionel, Sophie had taken her by the wrist.
“And do me a solid, would you?” she started. “See if our lordship can’t find me some damn smokes.”
15
Jenn was back in her jeans and plaid shirt, and it felt good.
Yesterday, Lionel’s people had washed all her clothes and returned them, and now they smelled less of body odor and more like a spring valley or a dewy meadow or a rainy afternoon—or whatever scent of detergent this was. Their equipment had been “decontaminated,” too. Jenn had no clue what that entailed, but all their things, from weapons to food, as long as it was in an airtight package, were accounted for and ready to go.
After Sophie told Ed about the plan to find antibiotics, Lionel showed Jenn and the others to some blow-up mattresses in a former jewelry store. He brought them a conservative dinner of stale bread and oatmeal that smelled worryingly similar to Ajax’s cat food, then returned to his duties. Sophie spent the night with Ed in his cot, much to the nurses’ chagrin. Jenn slept for what she guessed was three or four hours. Only once did Yankees Hat wake her up.
Now, the sun low in the eastern sky, she stood by the Nissan and Dodge, which were parked outside the gates of the camp. Big-box retail stores with expansive, empty parking lots surrounded her. Every so often, a truck would pass by on its way into the mall. Otherwise, there were no people here. The sky remained an ominous gray, and the occasional sound of gunfire echoed from the south.
“Jansen,” Sophie called. She leaned against the Dodge’s tailgate and fiddled with her necklace. “Come here, would you?”
Jenn finished with her button and joined Sophie. “What’s up?”
Dressed in her green plaid shirt, jeans, and mesh ball cap, Sophie pulled out a cigarette. On her way through the gate leading out of the camp, she’d spotted a soldier enjoying a smoke. She promptly offered him two soy protein bars in exchange for the rest of his pack. Surprisingly, he agreed. Jenn breathed a sigh of relief at that. Jason used to get agitated and more than a little mean when he hadn’t had a nicotine fix for five or six consecutive hours.
“Yesterday at the hospital,” Sophie started, then sparked her cigarette. “What I said about you just being our guide and almost getting us killed, that was uncalled for. It was a rough day and I was strung out. You know how it is.” She cleared her throat and took a long pull.
“Was that your way of apologizing to me?” Jenn joked.
“No,” Sophie countered. “Maybe. Whatever. All I’m saying is, I appreciate that you have the balls to stand up to me when I start being stubborn. I have a persistent and annoying habit of flipping out when people disagree with me or say things I don’t like, but that’s why I try and surround myself with at least a few who keep me on my toes. Dylan, Val. Hell, even Carter, that oaf. Now you. I’m glad you decided to come along.”
Jenn’s throat stiffened. “Thanks. I’m glad I came, too.”
Sophie pushed herself off the Dodge and made to leave.
“Wait,” Jenn said. “That necklace. It means a lot to you. Is it from Ed?”
“You certainly are observant,” Sophie said, the sarcasm evident in her voice.
“Two years of college is paying off, I guess.”
“Glad to hear it. Sounds like a good investment.”
“So what’s the story behind it?”
Sophie tapped ash onto the ground. “We married young. Too young. You can thank a broken condom for that. We had next to no money, so for our first anniversary, he gave me this.” She touched each point of the antlers in turn. “For some reason he thought I liked antlers because I had an antler-shaped bottle opener and a set of them on the wall in my house growing up. I’m pretty sure he picked this thing up at a flea market for ten bucks. I wore it mostly to be polite. Still do.”
“That’s bull.”
“Fancy college degree. It just keeps paying dividends, doesn’t it?” With that, she moved off.
Something Sophie said niggled at Jenn: broken condom. Did that mean Sophie had a child? If so, where was he? Or she? And how old? Sophie married young, apparently, and if she was in her late forties, her son or daughter could be thirty by now.
Jenn thought to ask, but she sensed Sophie would only share so much and was already growing impatient with her prodding. She made a note to question Dylan about it later. He would probably know.
A rumbling came from behind the Dodge. Jenn leaned around the hood. The gate to the relief camp had opened, and a legged combat drone lumbered through. A uniformed soldier walked alongside on the right. On its left was Lionel, who wore the same clothes as yesterday. His shirt was fully tucked in now, accenting the piece of shoelace that functioned as his belt.
“What’s these?” Valeria asked.
“The extra firepower Lionel promised?” Jenn guessed.
“No way,” Carter said. He finished pouring gasoline into the Dodge and set the red jerry can down on the pavement. Jenn swore his beard had doubled in thickness overnight. In another day or two, he’d look like a bear.
Lionel waved at them, then gestured to the drone as a game show host might gesture to a prize car.
Dylan hopped out of the Dodge and whistled. “That’s an MK6B LCD.”
“A what?” Carter asked and scratched his beard.
“MK6B LCD,” Dylan repeated. “Mark 6B legged combat drone. Top-of-the-line stuff. Perfect friend-foe AI, .50-cal machine gun, 450-round belt with two spares it can auto-load, marching speed faster than a regular infantryman. Also got a battery life of over two hundred hours, plus backup solar. This’s one of the last things in the world I’d want to face of
f against.”
“I understood about a third of that.” Sophie flicked her cigarette butt onto the road. “But it sounds badass.”
“More than badass,” Dylan said. “That sucker would punch a hole the size of a softball through Vladdy, then three or four others behind him.”
“Hey!” Carter punched Dylan in the shoulder.
“Okay!” Dylan cried, leaning away from the big man. “Fine. It would punch a hole the size of a softball through me.”
Carter crossed his arms. “That’s better.”
Lionel and the soldier stopped, and the combat drone—the LCD—halted beside them. Its gun was lowered, but the thing still made the hairs on Jenn’s neck stand on end.
“I brought you a gift.” Lionel patted what she regarded as the abdomen of the insectoid but catlike machine. “Our friends in the military don’t have any bodies for you, but they have some spare tech.” He lifted a finger. “I’ll have you know, I called in every last favor I had to find you folks this little treat.” The soldier, a man close to Jenn’s age, moved toward Dylan. Lionel continued. “I’ve been told you have an ex-serviceman in the group.”
“You familiar with this model?” the soldier asked and handed the tablet to Dylan.
“I am.” Dylan tapped at the screen. The drone sprung to life, then whirled around and faced Carter, who jumped back a step.
“Did you do that?” he whined. “Or is—”
The drone’s machine gun fell. “Like riding a bike,” Dylan said.
“Will that work away from the camp?” Jenn asked.
“Uses radio waves,” Dylan said. “Range of, what, half a kilometer, Specialist?”
“You’ve been out for a while, huh?” the soldier said. “Over one klick now.”
Dylan whistled a second time. “And that’s just to send commands. The AI on these things is scary good. You identify what’s friendly and this baby will shoot literally everything else if you want it to. It’ll even mark civvies and prioritize targets on its own, whether you’re in range or not.”
“It’s got a busted camera,” the soldier told him. “So you won’t be able to see things from its POV. But otherwise, it’s in pretty good shape.”
“I can live with that.”
“Don’t break it,” Lionel warned. “Our friends in the U.S. military would prefer that their equipment is returned in one piece.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem.” Grinning like a kid who’d put on VR goggles for the first time, Dylan tapped the touchscreen some more. The LCD stomped over to the Nissan, bent its hindlegs as Ajax always did before jumping onto the counter, and finally leaped into the bed with an unsettling amount of grace. The truck’s suspension creaked and the rear end sagged an inch or two, but the drone fit just fine. Another tap made its limbs collapse and fold beneath it. Dylan tucked the tablet into his pocket. “Thanks for the hardware. Should come in handy in an SHTF situation.”
Jenn knew that one: when shit hit the fan. The girls on her softball team used to say it when their pitcher was having a bad inning.
The LCD went to sleep. Jenn hated the idea of having this thing anywhere near her. Dylan said the friend-foe AI was perfect, but she’d heard horror stories of earlier-model drones killing as many friendly soldiers as enemy ones. Yet a walking heavy machine gun would no doubt give them an edge over whatever gangs and raiders were supposedly roaming the streets deeper in the city, and Jenn would take any advantage she could.
Lionel pulled his own tablet from his pocket. “I asked one of our doctors to compile a list of medical supplies.” He flicked his finger across the screen, toward Dylan. “I’ve sent it over to you.”
Dylan checked his tablet to confirm the file transfers. “Thanks. Any intel on the hospital? I’d prefer not to be going in blind.”
“For whatever reason,” Lionel started, “its backup power failed during the EMP event, so the patients were evacuated, many of them to here. Most of the doctors came at the same time. The other day, a team went to retrieve the last of the supplies, as I said, but we lost contact. We’re not sure if they made it to the hospital or not, but it’s assumed they were attacked. By whom we don’t know, but whoever it was, I expect they’re armed and dangerous. I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you more.”
“That’s better than nothing,” Dylan said.
“Oh!” Lionel presented an old-fashioned metal key. “The same doctor who put together the supply list, he worked at the hospital. This is for the storage room where you’ll find what you need. It’s on the second floor.” He laid it in Dylan’s hand, and they shook. “I appreciate what you’re doing for us. I’m glad to see there’s good people out here still. Regardless of the outcome, Flagstaff made a new ally today, and you can bet my rear end that I’ll do whatever it takes to send as much aid as possible to your town. Hopefully the National Guard will finish securing the interstate, create a safe line of communication.”
“That’d be nice.” Sophie reached for Lionel’s hand. “I can’t say it’s been a pleasure, Mr. Washington, but if nothing else, it’s certainly been productive. We’ll do what we can to find you your supplies.”
Lionel and the soldier returned to the camp. Dylan closed the Nissan’s tailgate, securing the drone inside.
“Jansen,” Valeria said, pronouncing the J as a Y. Jenn turned to see her holding out Gary’s gun—her gun. “Don’t forget this. Something says to me you’ll need it.”
“Thanks.” Jenn dropped the magazine and checked the chamber. Empty, as she suspected, but Gary told her to never assume that a weapon was unloaded.
“Load up, boys and girls,” Sophie called. “Let’s hit the road.”
* * *
“It should be a right in a few miles.” Jenn squinted at the tablet Lionel had given them. Although she’d gotten used to using the paper map, it felt good to have a proper touchscreen again. There was no GPS, of course, but she liked being able to toggle to a satellite view of the area. It didn’t matter that all the images were taken before the war and were five years out of date. “Looks like North Black Mountain Parkway.”
“Roger that.” Dylan eased the Nissan around a stalled motorbike. “You sure there’s no back way? I’m feeling a little exposed out here.”
Jenn felt exposed, too. After following the interstate south for about thirty minutes, they exited left onto East Carefree Highway, a four-lane road divided by a median of golden sand and acacia trees. Copy-paste residential and commercial developments from the two decades before the real estate crash crowded either side. All were shades of brown accented with Senora red. Most of the homes were clustered inside shoulder-height stone walls carved with facades of cacti and lizards and spray-painted with black, oftentimes obscene graffiti.
There were no signs of fires here. Then again, this was the northern extremity of Metro Phoenix and more than twice as far from downtown as Jenn’s home neighborhood of Peoria. Farther south, though, thin trails of smoke, too many to count, rose into the sky. She imagined what those parts of the city must look like: charred buildings reduced to husks, streets layered with smoldering debris, thousands upon thousands of burnt-out vehicles. It probably resembled the images she’d seen of New Delhi. This past winter, before withdrawing from northern India, the Chinese firebombed it into oblivion as part of a scorched-earth campaign. Gary called it the worst war crime of the twenty-first century.
Jenn traced her finger along East Carefree Highway, then down 42nd Street. It led into a tangled mess of twisting roads and dead-end cul-de-sacs. “Doesn’t look like it,” Jenn said. “We’re in suburbia out here. These neighborhoods were designed to only have one way in or one way out.”
Dylan rapped his fingers on the steering wheel. Carter, as per Dylan’s instructions, manned a set of binoculars. “See anything, Vladdy?” Dylan asked him.
“No.” Carter kept the binoculars tight to his eyes. “Not yet. It’s quiet here.”
“Yeah,” Dylan agreed. “Anyone even live out here anymore, Jansen?”
She twisted around in her seat. The Dodge remained a mile behind, and the drone rested peacefully in the Nissan. “Not really. More than in like Camp Verde or Payson.” The word “Payson” slipped out. She braced herself for a visit from Yankees Hat, but he never showed.
“That’s good, right?” Carter said. He was still holding the binoculars up. Jenn wondered if his arms were sore yet.
Dylan clicked his tongue. It reminded Jenn of the sound Maria made when she was trying to call Ajax. “Maybe. I’m not taking any chances.”
Jenn returned to the tablet and repeated the directions in her head. Right on Black Mountain, left on Rancho Paloma, right on Cave Creek, then left on . . . On what? She cursed under her breath and checked the map. Left on Asher Hills Drive. This would have been easier with GPS or autodrive.
She started over. Right on Black Mountain, left on Rancho—
“I’m sorry to hear about your parents,” Dylan said.
Jenn’s guts rolled. She considered opening the door and jumping out of the truck, but she remembered the comforting hand Dylan laid on her shoulder when Lionel gave her the news. Valeria, too. She didn’t need to be embarrassed around these people. Not anymore.
“Thanks,” she managed to say.
“You never mentioned them before. Neither did Sophie.”
“I never told her.” Jenn set the tablet down on the seat next to her. “She probably knew, though. She knew everything else about me. It was stupid.”
“What was?”
“Thinking they were alive. They’re dead, but I talked myself into believing they weren’t. I kept telling myself it wasn’t true. I just needed to find out for sure. Closure, I guess?”
Letting the binoculars down, Carter said, “Now you have Sophie and Ed. And us. We’re like a family.”
