Each time his lips touched hers or their tongues met, he pulled her back from the precipice of hopelessness, terrifying and exciting her in equal parts as to what these new, uncharted emotions might mean. When she started considering doing more than simply kissing him, she forced herself to lean back, not wanting to hurt him.
“I shouldn’t take advantage of you.” She smiled, breathing a little hard. “You’re high.”
Logan pulled his fingers through her hair. “Yeah, I am. You’re stronger than morphine.”
“Umm…” Stomach butterflies and menstrual-induced nausea did not play well together. She gurgled.
“Yeah, I know that was kinda cheesy but I don’t care. It’s true.” Logan let his arm flop back to the mattress. “I wish you’d have told me all it would take to get you to kiss me was being shot. I’d have done it myself months ago.”
Harper laugh-cried. She sank to sit in the chair she’d pulled up beside the bed. He’d meant it as a stupid joke, but his comment made her question whether her feelings came from pity. After a moment of squeezing his hand and staring into his eyes, she let that worry go. She didn’t have a trace of resentment. A relationship started out of pity would be forever tinged with resentment and doubt, none of which she experienced now. “Don’t joke about that. No shooting yourself.”
“Promise.” He closed his eyes in a blink so slow he might’ve fallen asleep.
“Kirk was here. He apologized.”
“Yeah. He came back already. We talked for a while. It’s all good with him, now. He’s a different person when he’s not in Zach’s shadow.”
Harper frowned. “Zach resigned from the militia. Haven’t seen him in a while. Not sure what he’s doing other than not farming. Probably still thinks it’s beneath him or something.”
“He expected to have a cushy ride at some Ivy League school and end up working the stock market or some corporate boardroom.” Logan shrugged. “Pretty much everything left is going to be beneath his expectations. Kirk told me Zach’s apprenticing with the plumbers now.”
“I can’t think of a better person to deal with everyone’s shit.” She smirked.
Logan started laughing, which got her laughing.
He abruptly stopped with a pained grimace. “Ouch.”
“Sorry.”
“No problem.” He raised an eyebrow. “How about another dose of painkiller?”
With a mischievous grin, she stretched up over the bed again, and kissed him.
19
The First Time
Word arrived from Walter Holman later that night, soon after dinner, that he needed to meet with her in regard to the dentist situation and the attack on the cornfield. Despite the notice not feeling like she’d been called to the principal’s office, she expected trouble sleeping… but a day of battling her monthly enemy had worn her out.
The next morning after walking the kids out to the farm—the main farm, not the old golf course—Harper hurried back down the road to the militia HQ. She wanted to return to the farm as fast as possible. The kids all seemed worried about another possible attack, and wanted her around. That, almost as much as a nuclear war happening for real, threw her for a loop. Sure, people might have gone to her for emotional support when they needed a hug… but physical protection? Harper Cody? The girl who quietly faded into the background at school whenever two guys so much as shouted at each other in the hall?
The world really has ‘gone to plaid’ as Dad would say.
Walter got up from behind his desk when she walked in, shook her hand, then gestured at one of the chairs before sitting again. “Morning, Harper. Cliff mentioned you were a bit under the weather yesterday. Hope you’re feeling better.”
“Bit sore still, but much better than yesterday. Thanks.”
“Good to hear. So as you may know, we’re still trying to figure out what to do with our dentist friend. I’d like to hear your version of what happened with him the other day.”
Harper raked her hair off her face and took a calming breath. “I’d taken cover by the truck. The kids got down in the sand pit, so I decided to hold that position and guard them. Couldn’t see too much with all the corn, and I didn’t want to charge off into a gunfight and leave the children on their own.”
“Sounds like a good idea.” Walter nodded.
She explained the man on the far side of the sand trap trying to shoot her, then seeing the other one sneak up on Ryan. “Sadie shot a guy heading for my position from behind, but another guy shot her. I shot him, then tried to run to her. The dentist was hiding behind the truck and he jumped out, putting a gun to my head as soon as I passed him. Told me to drop my gun. I figured he was going to kidnap me.”
“What happened then?”
“I froze. But not like terrified froze. Dropping the gun could’ve been worse than death. Since he didn’t kill me right away, I thought I could maybe talk to him. But Mila distracted him with a knife. Would’ve put his eye out if he didn’t see it coming and flinch. When he jumped back, I got the shotgun around on him, was gonna blow his head off—again, ’cause I thought he wanted to rape me—but he yelled like ‘no, wait.’ The dude looked genuinely terrified, so I held my fire.”
“What made you think he wanted to assault you like that?” Walter tapped a pen on a notepad.
“His not simply shooting me right away and wanting me to surrender. That’s it. The guy watched me shoot one of his friends. I figured why else wouldn’t he just blow my brains out? But, he dropped his gun right away when I told him to. Said he didn’t want to kidnap me, just didn’t want to shoot a kid. The guy seemed to be trying to get away from the fight. He claimed he didn’t hurt anyone, and I heard his gun was full… no bullets used. ”
“Yeah, that’s the same thing he’s telling us. They didn’t really have a settlement, just a roving group moving from place to place in search of supplies. According to him, they underestimated how organized we were and hadn’t planned on meeting any significant resistance. Guy used to be a dentist. Do you believe it?”
“Dr. Hale seems to think he really is.” Harper fidgeted at a strand of her hair draped over her chest. “Wonder how he joined a group of raiders.”
Walter leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen against his hand instead of the pad. “That is the big question. Mr. Butler—possibly Dr. Butler—says he got caught up in the ‘otherworldly’ nature of the aftermath and figured being with a rough group would provide protection. I suppose it’s plausible that witnessing destruction of this magnitude can cause people to do strange things. Dr. Hale seems to believe he’d be stable in more normal surroundings. The man is requesting to stay here as a citizen and we are considering that request. I have two questions for you.”
“Okay.” She sat up a little straighter.
“Did you see him act aggressively toward anyone or cause injury? And, do you have any objection to him staying here?”
She blinked. “Really? If I said yes, you’d kick him out?”
“More than likely. But there are multiple things to consider. Your opinion does, however, weigh heavily considering your direct interaction with him.”
“Wow…” She exhaled hard, uncomfortable with having that much power over someone else’s fate. “I believed him when he said he didn’t want to hurt me. And, I didn’t see him shoot anyone or even hit them. The guy didn’t even curse at Mila for sticking a knife in his skull. But… people always accused me of being too nice.”
Walter chuckled. “There’s no such thing as being too nice. The world needs more of that. So, how are you holding up after that? Things are apparently more, erm… active than we expected.”
She let all the air out of her lungs in the bastard offspring of a huff and a sigh. “I really hate having to shoot people. Maybe that’s why I camped by the truck instead of running around looking for bad guys… but those cornstalks. Someone probably would’ve gotten the drop on me if I ran around like an idiot. Besides, I couldn’t leave the kids there. And,
well, as far as having to shoot people goes, I’ve already crossed that bridge. If I need to do it to protect someone, so be it. I’m broken already. Better it’s me than Madison, Jonathan, or Lorelei… or anyone who hasn’t ended up taking a life.” Harper bowed her head. “As long as I’m alive, I’ll never forget that I chickened out and got my dad killed. I won’t make that mistake again—but I hope I never have to pull the trigger on anyone again.”
“I was thirty-four the first time I took a man’s life.” Walter leaned forward, crossing his arms on the desk. “I’d been a patrol officer. Pulled over this ghettoed-out Honda Civic with enough gold on it to make Mr. T jealous. Spoiler, rims, spinners on the rims, license plate frames, gold trim on the windows even. Total bling-mobile. Guy had been doing eighty miles an hour in a thirty-five zone. I’m expecting a couple of young thugs, right? I get to the window, it’s this forty-something white dude with an upside-down cross tattooed on his cheek. Soon as we made eye contact, dude raises a gun at me. I barely dodged away as he shot. Ran around the car while pulling my weapon. We traded bullets over the roof and he went down. Whole thing took mere seconds. I can’t explain how in the hell he managed to miss me with all eight shots. Swore a few of them came close enough I felt the breeze on my ears.”
“Holy shit,” whispered Harper.
Walter leaned his chin in his hand, one finger at his temple. “Found out later that the guy had escaped from a county jail in New Mexico while awaiting a transfer to the US Marshals Service. He’d been sentenced to life without parole on federal arson and murder charges and evidently decided he would do anything and everything except spending the rest of his days in Lewisburg Penitentiary.”
“Kinda stupid of him to speed like that, right?”
“Yeah. I figure the son of a bitch either wanted to commit suicide by cop rather than go away forever or he wanted to kill as many cops as possible on his way up to Canada. He pulled right over, didn’t try to evade at all. And he had the gun right in his lap, ready and waiting.” Walter sighed. “Sometimes, I still have nightmares about that day. Still see his damn dead eyes staring at me over the roof of that car. That man looked at me the way you might look at a cockroach before stepping on it.”
She shivered. “Creepy. I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Heh. Me too. I can’t imagine being in that situation at your age. If you ever want to talk about the nightmares, I’m always here.”
“Thanks. Maybe if I stop having nightmares about my parents being killed, I’ll have time for one about shooting people.”
“Harper, are you okay?”
“Yeah. I think Da—Cliff’s sense of dark humor is rubbing off on me.” She scratched at her eyebrow. “Though I think maybe I did have a bad dream about killing. Saw myself back in school before the war and everyone was looking at me weird, avoiding me because I killed people. Not really a scary dream, but I suppose I feel guilty about it. Just too freaked out about other stuff to dwell on it.”
“That’s possible. You know Dr. Hale is becoming quite the therapist.”
“I’ve talked to her.” Harper glanced down at her lap, picking dirt off her jeans. “She thinks I’m compartmentalizing what I’ve had to do by thinking of the Lawless as nameless, faceless bad guys from a video game. I’m not taking lives away from people with hopes, dreams, and futures… just knocking down hostile creatures that kinda look like people.”
Walter chuckled. “Considering the state the world’s in, that may well be a truer statement than you realize. Oh, one last thing before you go. I’m sure you’re aware that the school will be suspending classes for a couple months like good ol’ pre-war summer break. I’d like you to keep on the schedule you’ve been following so far. Patrol the residential district south of the school until, say two or three in the afternoon, then go watch the kids. Yeah, it’s lighter than the old nine-to-five, but we figure that being on call 24/7 is the tradeoff for the sweet work hours.”
“No problem, boss.” She grasped the armrests of the chair and looked around. “So, the dentist? He’s going to be staying?”
“I’m thinking probably, yeah. We don’t have any dentists here at the moment, and his background would make it easier for Dr. Khan and Dr. Hale to cross-train him with standard medicine. Probably keep an eye on him for a while, but based on your feedback and what I got from Dr. Hale, I’m going to recommend to Ned we welcome him into town. Really does seem like the guy’s a bit of a chicken who decided to stay with a rough group for protection.”
“That’s cool, I guess. Still don’t know why they didn’t simply ask to move in if they needed food that bad that they’d just shoot Parker in the face.”
Walter shook his head. “You called them ‘raiders’ before. That about sums it up. Why trade or barter when you can simply take what you want?”
“So stupid… so senseless.”
“Yeah…” Walter tossed his pen onto the desk. “Just like the whole damned war.”
20
The Naked Truth
Harper returned to the main farm and found the class dispersed around in small groups.
Some kids tended chickens, others walked among tomato plants learning how to identify ripe ones and care for the plants. Alas, none of the tomatoes appeared close to ready yet. The oldest kids attending school, the thirteen-to-sixteen-year-olds, worked with Jim Rollins, the farm manager, helping put together a greenhouse. Someone had erected a framework of thin pipes in the general shape of a long building. The students, Jim, and three other adults presently lugged around giant rolls of industrial plastic wrap, making the walls and roof.
While working, Jim explained that they expected all the ash, dirt, and other sediment kicked up into the atmosphere by all the nuclear explosions would cause a few degree drop in temperature that would shorten the growing season. To combat this, they intended to construct as many greenhouses as they could and pack them with potatoes.
“Dinner time might get boring, but we’re gonna survive.” Jim waved to Harper. “Mornin’. You running a bit late… oh, no… Never mind. You’re not a student.”
“Hi.” She returned the wave. “Nope. Think this will work?”
“Has a reasonable chance of it, yeah. Plenty of grow huts use plastic sheeting. Might take ten to twenty years for the cooling effect of the blasts to settle down. This is the best insurance we can have against a shorter growth season. Next year, we’re gonna get various things started in these huts early, then move them out to the fields when the weather warms. Gonna keep at least two filled to capacity with spuds.”
“Didn’t the Irish starve because they relied exclusively on potatoes?” Harper tilted her head.
Jim chuckled. “Nope. Technically, they starved because they ran out of potatoes.”
She didn’t know whether to sigh or laugh, so she sorta did both. “Right.”
“Keep your head down, kiddo.” Jim returned to his ‘class.’
“Yeah… I will.” Harper turned in place, staring out over rows upon rows of greenery. Carrots, potatoes, tomatoes, cucumbers, even lettuce. Why’d they bother planting lettuce? It’s got no nutritional value. She squinted. Oh, wait. Maybe that’s cabbage?
Madison and Jonathan stood with a group of tweens listening to an older man talk about how to care for cows. Not wanting to interrupt, she walked up behind them long enough to give her siblings back pats and let them know she had returned to the farm.
A few minutes of patrolling later, she found the youngest kids, nine and smaller, clustered by the chicken coops listening to a woman she vaguely remembered as being named Donna instructing them on how to tend to the birds. Lorelei stood at the back of the group, but appeared to be more interested in her surroundings than the information on chicken-rearing. For no particular reason, she started pulling her dress off.
Dammit. What am I supposed to do with this kid?
Harper ran over and grabbed her before she could disrobe.
“Hi!” chirped Lorelei, grinning up at her.
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I can’t yell at a face that happy. Harper crouched to eye level. “What are you doing?”
“Learnin’ ’bout chickens.”
“I mean…” She lowered her voice. “Why were you about to take your dress off?”
“’Cause I didn’t wan’ anyone ta get shotted.”
The boom of an imaginary train crash went off inside Harper’s brain at the two completely disconnected concepts. “What?”
Lorelei stared up at her, all innocence.
Harper face-palmed and sighed. Not her fault. Blame that bitch of a mother. “You need to keep your clothes on when you’re outside, okay? What does taking your clothes off have to do with people being shot?”
“I got scared bein’ onna farm and wanted people not to get shotted.” She swished side to side.
“Okay, I’m going to regret asking this, but what makes you think taking your dress off will help?”
Lorelei grinned. “Mommy’s friend Bucky said girls always get what they want, if alls they gotta do is take their clothes off.”
The farmer, Donna perhaps, stopped speaking and just stared at her.
Harper about fainted. She collected herself and swallowed the lump in her throat. “Did he say that to you? Did he, umm… make you do things?”
“No.” Lorelei shook her head. “Just talkin’ to no one. He was mad ’bout somethin’. I don’t think he likes kids. He always pretended I wasn’t there at all.”
Harper relaxed, beyond relieved. “Bucky… umm. Lied. He said something mean. He was probably angry and just ranting.”
“Mean?” Lorelei kept swishing side to side, her huge smile fading to a look of curiosity. “Sometimes, he’d hit Mommy, and when she took her clothes off, he’d stop hitting her. It worked.”
Oh, gawd. I wish I had one of those little thingees that can erase memories like that movie. “Yes. Mean. That’s not a nice thing to say about girls at all.” Harper took Lorelei’s hand. “Excuse me.” She pulled the child away from the class far enough not to be overheard by little ears. “Do you keep wanting stuff to happen? Is that why you keep ‘forgetting’ your dress?”
The Lucky Ones (Evergreen Book 3) Page 18
