Post-Apocalyptic Nomadic Warriors (16 page)

“Fair enough. Why don’t you and your brothers get dressed and we’ll go?”

“This is dressed. We’ve outgrown everything else. The good folks of Vita Nova never left clothes in the food pile. And we couldn’t very well leave a note.”

These kids had put up with a lot. They had grown up without parents in the worst possible world. Still, they had forged a respectable existence. These were good kids.

“Get out!” Erica screamed as a headless bear flew out the door of the coach. The boy tumbled to the ground as Erica came storming to the door of the coach.

Jerry and Alex ran to help the boy to his feet. Trent had a crude bandage on his hand and tried to push up off the ground with his one good arm. Jerry grasped him by the elbow and lifted him to his feet.

“What’s going on here?”

Erica yelled from the doorway, “The little bastard asked to see my boobs.”

The nomad looked at Trent. The boy could only blush. Trent shrugged in response to the accusation.

Jerry chuckled again.

“It’s not funny.” Erica stomped her foot for emphasis.

“Oh, come on, he’s a bear. He doesn’t know any better.”

She stormed back into the coach.

Trent rubbed his head. “My dad used to say it never hurt to ask.”

Jerry tried to brush some of the dirt off of the bear suit. “Well, in this case you should have listened to your mother.”

“She’s really mad,” Alex said as he examined the wrap on his brother’s hand.

Jerry smiled, “Wait till you see this.”

“What?” asked Trent.

“Erica?”

She was red in the face when she appeared back in the doorway. “What?”

“They’re coming with us.”

Trent lit up. Erica went off—screaming and swearing. Chewy got into the passenger seat and put her head out the window.

“We’ll head out in the morning. You and your brothers can get cleaned up in the coach. And you get to sleep indoors tonight.”

Alex couldn’t suppress a smile. He grabbed the nomad’s hand and shook it frantically. “I don’t know how to thank you, Dick.”

“My name’s not Dick.”

“But, she keeps calling you …”

“Jerry. Okay, my name is Jerry.”

“Thanks, Jerry. I … I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything. Just get cleaned up and try to find some clothes that fit. There should be some in the closet in there. We have to make you presentable to the people of New Hope. They’re kind of judgey.”

FIFTEEN

“You’re a genius, Logan.”

“Please.”

“No, really. I’m the guy in this town who can build anything out of anything and I couldn’t build a system of flamethrowers.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Carl.”

“Where did you figure this out?”

“A delinquent childhood filled with adventure and a touch of arson.”

The short man laughed. “I know what you mean. I nearly burned my eyebrows off when I was ten. I’d tell you how, but then I’d have to kill you.” Carl slapped the warrior on the shoulder and burst with laughter.

Logan winced, more at the laughter than the slap. “The old WD-40 and a lighter bit, right?”

Carl shook his head. “Insurance fraud. I helped my dad torch our fishing boat.”

“Oh, well …”

“We needed the money.”

“I see.”

“For a new fishing boat.”

“Well, people do what they have to, don’t they?”

“I don’t know if we had to. Dad was a dentist.”

Logan was silent.

“Fun though. And, it brought us closer. And, like my dad always said, you gotta have a boat.” Carl began to laugh again. It grated Logan’s ears.

A young woman stared at him from across the courtyard. It wasn’t the good kind of stare. He could tell she didn’t trust him. It was in the way she looked at him through smoldering eyes under a furled brow. It was in her posture, clenched arms crossed, not for warmth, but for defense. It was in the way she gave him the finger, perfectly vertical, hyper extended joints for emphasis.

“Would you excuse me for a moment, Carl?”

“Anything for you, Logan.”

“Uh, okay.”

Sarah was leaning against his Mustang as if examining the vehicle. She turned away as he approached. Peering into the windows, she pretended that she did not see him approach.

She was beautiful. Jet-black hair and dark skin set off fierce blue eyes and made him wonder if he had ever so noticed a person’s pupil.

“Are you checking out the car or me?” he asked.

“Excuse me?”

“I saw you giving me quite the look.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I saw you give me the finger.”

She shrugged.

“You’re still giving it to me.”

She retracted the offensive digit and clasped her arms tight across her ample chest. “I don’t trust you.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

“You show up out of nowhere, and you’ve got the whole town eating out of your hands. It’s all a little too easy. I don’t trust charming strangers.”

“You’re right not to trust me.”

“What?”

“You’re right not to trust me,” he said again. “I don’t trust strangers. I’ve been burned by too many. And, often, it’s the charming ones that mean to do you the most harm.”

“You’re weird.”

“What’s your name?”

“Sarah.”

“Sarah,” he said, letting the name play on his tongue. “You’re the mayor’s daughter, aren’t you?”

She hesitated. “Yes.”

“He told me about you. He said you were beautiful.”

“And?”

“I figured it was just a father’s eyes talking. But he was right.”

She blushed.

“Now, don’t do that. You don’t trust charming strangers, remember?”

She smiled. She tried to hide it and then protested, “I can find you charming and still not trust you.”

“That’s fair.”

“What’s your game?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re up to something. And it’s not good. I’ve told my father not to trust you.”

“What did he say?”

“He didn’t listen. Daddies don’t listen the first time. But I’m still working on him.” She turned back to the car.

“Do you like the Mustang?”

The body was a vague homage to its former beauty. The ravages of wasteland and driving had marred it with countless dings, divots, and scratches.

Patchwork repairs and armament had left the once polished body a Frankenstein of sheet metal, wire, and bolts.

Contrary to its outward appearance, the mechanics of the car were unmatched. A beast of an engine lurked beneath the hood. A massive blower, the most obvious sign that the heart of the automobile wasn’t stock, burst through the hood to swallow air that it would convert into raw horsepower.

The children had flocked to it the moment Logan had stepped into the mayor’s office upon arrival. Their fascination had not ebbed in the least.

They had moved closer and closer to the mechanical marvel over the course of the afternoon. Even now they gathered around it. One young boy had even mustered the courage to get into the driver’s seat and make revving noises as he moved his hand across the wheel.

“It’s not much to look at.”

“No. It’s not. There aren’t a lot of Mi-T-Fines left out there. But, she’s fast.”

She ran her hand along the door then stopped and stomped her foot. “Trying to get the girl with the car. I thought that ended with the apocalypse.”

He laughed. “I don’t drive it to get into trouble with the ladies.” His face lost all humor. “I drive it to outrun trouble.”

She looked back at the car.

“Do you want a ride?”

“No. I mean, I haven’t been in a car like this in seven years.”

“C’mon, get in. There’s something I want to show you that proves you’re right.”

She scrunched up her nose, “I still don’t trust you.”

“Exactly. And I would never ask you to.” Logan opened the driver’s door.

 
The young boy behind the wheel had been oblivious to the man’s presence. When the door opened, he looked up in shock. Logan tousled the lad’s hair as the child scrambled out of the seat.

He sat down, leaned across and opened the passenger door.

Sarah smiled and rolled her eyes. Simple chivalry was unexpected. It delighted her to see it. Still, his charms weren’t going to work on her and she wanted him to think that. She made sure that she wasn’t smiling when she sat down.

SIXTEEEN

“Just one boob?”

Erica turned away and tried to ignore the boy and his requests.

“Just a little?” Trent indicated with his finger and thumb that, when he said a little, he meant a lot.

“For the last time, no! Who taught you your manners?” Erica had enough of the boys from the woods. Their endless fascination annoyed her. The shower, clean clothes, soft beds, and everything inside the coach delighted and amazed them. Erica appreciated the fact that they had lived in the wilderness for seven years, but the “oohs,” “ahhs,” and “awesomes” had worn thin well before bedtime.

The oldest one hadn’t stopped talking, asking question after question about the world outside the woods. The middle child hadn’t stopped staring, mostly at her chest. And the youngest, well, the youngest just sat on the floor quietly petting Chewy.

There had been nothing in the nomad’s closet that had fit Austin. So the young boy was forced to wait in his bear costume until they could find something for him to wear. This had upset the boy at first, but now he seemed quite content to hide in the pelt and pet the dog.

The trip back to the road hadn’t been too bad since the boys had to help push the Silver Lining back to the Dairy Queen. That effort had given her a little more than an hour of silence as she sat behind the steering wheel, guiding the large vehicle back through the field.