We stumble through breakfast like a group of uneasy drunks in a Sunday morning church pew. The militia men at the table next to me are a constant reminder I need to be anywhere but here. We’ve picked up an unwanted party we can’t shake. I’ve racked every corner of my brain to think of every angle possible to get them to let us go, but I’m coming up empty. Watching Hank blend with them so easily this morning reaffirms my fear that he’s not 100% on board with abandoning his father’s cult. I find myself re-examining his every word and action. What do I really know about Hank other than his kisses turn my knees to Jell-o and he’s beautiful to look at? I’ve temporarily gone insane. Maybe I’m bipolar when it comes to guys.
Hank pile-drives his pancakes with his fork in the corner of my eye. He smashes them to bits on his plate before layering his plate with the syrup. He leaves a cavity-worthy lake behind. He plows through his food, oblivious to my watchful eye, as he scoops up his chow with a spoon and piles it into his wide-open trap. At this exact moment, I can’t recall which part of his lips are even remotely attractive. My face must be an open book as I glance over to find Austin smirking in my direction while I catch Jenni’s appalling look of horror and fascination fixed solely on Hank the Tank who resembles a pig at a Thanksgiving feast minus the grunting.
I manage to tear my eyes away to stare down at my plate. I take a dainty bite of pancake, followed by a sip of my coffee. I stare over at Jenni. I try to catch her eye, but she’s fixated on Hank. I kick her under the table. This earns me a glare. I have her attention for a second or two. “You’d better eat something Jenni, you’re going to get hungry.”
She follows my lead and puts her head down to study her plate. We get a few bites down, but the gravitational pull of Hank and his appetite is too much to ignore. We look back at him. We’re shocked to see he’s already ¼ way through his second plate. I glance at Austin again, who’s frowning. He may have made a bet he won’t win. I take a few more mechanical bites. I’m not really looking at my plate. I’m too busy watching Hank, who shows no signs of slowing down. Food goes in his mouth like the laws of gravity in motion. His mouth is like a giant vacuum for anything edible within three feet of his mouth. It’s like it just hops right in there, and he swallows it whole, a feat I might find more amusing if it wasn’t so disturbing.
Austin gives me a wink and a nudge. “Lose your appetite there, smalls?” He glances over at Hank, who rewards us all with a huge belch. This makes Austin wince as he looks back at me. “He’s a keeper.”
Hank jumps to his feet and glares at Austin. I think they’re going to throw down right here and now, but then Hank whirls around and stalks over to the other table. Austin grabs my hand and Jenni’s. He yanks us toward him and whispers furiously, “The only reason they found us was because of Hank. I’m sure of it.” As much as I want this to be Austin’s paranoia, I know it isn’t. He’s right.
A throat clearing draws our attention, and we all turn to stare up at a scowling Hank, who towers over our table.
“What are you all whispering about?”
I glance back at Austin, who stares up at hulking Hank. “We were saying our prayers.” Austin says with reverence.
Hank plops down in his seat and digs into what’s left on his plate. “Whatever, Austin. I don’t care.”
Austin releases mine and Jenni’s hands and taps on the table. He’s still staring at Hank. “Aww, but you do, Hank. That’s what’s driving you crazy.”
Hank shovels the last bite in before he chugs down his drink and slams it on the table. He looks back at T.J. and gives him a nod. Everyone gets to their feet. Hank flies to my side. His huge hand holds my elbow in a gentle but firm vice grip. “Time to go, Amy.” I look back at Austin. I’m not sure what to do, but Austin’s preoccupied with Jenni, who’s stuck to him like glue.
Austin reaches out to me and grabs my other arm. He pulls Jenni along with him. “She’s with me, Hank.” I can’t help but admire Austin’s bravery in the face of Hank and his guerrilla-like militia men who resemble the offspring of G.I. Joe meets G.I. Jane.
Hank’s jaw clenches and he stares down at Austin. “I don’t think so, Austin. Amy rides with us. You two can follow behind in the car. Try to keep up. We’ll meet you at the silo.”
Austin rushes me, and it’s so unexpected I almost back away as he hugs me tight. He runs one hand down the side of me and muscles his way in to smash up against me, despite Hank’s hand still on my elbow. He whispers something in my ear, but I can’t make it out. Hank shoves Austin hard, and he falls down to the ground. I look down and his eyes stare up at me like he’s waiting for some kind of sign, and I don’t know what to do so I give a small nod.
Instinctively, I put my hand in my pocket. There’s something in there that wasn’t there before. It has to be Austin’s doing. I leave it there and follow Hank out to the monster truck. I bite my lip to keep from laughing at the absurd height. Hank opens the door and motions for me to get in. I look at my short legs. I look back at the running board that’s practically at my shoulders. “Where’s the ladder?”
Hank makes a lunging motion. He sticks out his knee. “Just step on me.” I hike my leg up. I’m so glad I’m wearing soft jeggings that have a lot of give. I put a hand on Hank’s shoulder and take one giant step upward. I’m thoroughly annoyed when I feel a hand on my butt.
“I don’t need your help, Hank.”
I climb up in the truck and scoot over to leave room for Hank, who hauls himself up there with ease like Tarzan swinging on vines through the jungle. T.J. smiles over at me. “What do you think of my truck?”
I recall the earlier conversation and I smirk. “Don’t you mean your dad’s truck?”
His smile turns into a frown, but then he shrugs his shoulders. “Whatever. What do you think?”
I look out the front window, feeling strange about the view. “It sits up high.”
T.J. watches me a few more seconds, but I have nothing else to say. “Well. Hank wants one just like this.”
I glance over at Hank, who nods his head enthusiastically. “I totally do.”
I stare ahead once more. I try to imagine Hank and me going on a date in a truck like this one. I just can’t see it.
T.J. looks over at Hank again. “The packages are set to arrive in a day or two. I can’t wait.” His face is all lit up. He’s obviously excited. I look over at Hank. It seems like he’s excited too, but he’s trying to hide it. Why?
He nods in response. “Well. You know what’ll happen, T.J. My dad will have to check them over first, and then the elders. You and I will be the last to see them, if we see them at all.” Hank stares down at his fingers.
T.J. slaps the steering wheel. “That’s not true! My dad promised me a package this time! He said it’s time for me to have my own..” His words stop, and he glances over at me, like he just remembered I was in the truck. He takes a deep breath and stares out at the road. “I’m just saying my dad made me a promise. I know he won’t break it. He’ll find a way. I’m more than ready.”
Hank looks out the window. He’s deep in thought. He turns back after a few minutes of awkward silence. “So what else is new?”
T.J. digs around in a pocket in the dash and pulls out a wooden toothpick. He sticks it in his mouth to chew on. “We got some more guns and ammo in. They’re pretty sweet. Tracker and I have been doing a lot of target practice. We’re about the same. He’s better at quick draws, but I’m better at long shots.”
My stomach churns at his conversation. I should really keep my mouth shut, but I’m too curious. “So what are you practicing for? Do you like to go hunting?”
His eyes cut sideways, staring over at me. “We have to be prepared.”
I look back at him. “Prepared for what?”
He stares straight ahead, his jaw clenching again. “For when the end comes.”
The air in the truck grows heavy. “What end?”
He looks back at me. “The end is coming, Amy. Armies will rise up and there will be war in this nation like the North and the South, but this time it will be much worse. Neighbors will fight neighbors and families will fight families. It’s going to be total chaos.”
I clear my throat. “And where will you be?”
He grins like he’s got all the answers. “Safe and sound inside the silo, ready and waiting for the intruders.”
There’s so many holes in his reasoning. I try. “If you’re inside the silo, and no one can get in, then what is there to worry about?”
“Our supplies won’t last forever, Amy. We’ll have to come out to get more food and toilet paper. And bullets.”
“Why can’t you just wait until it’s all over and then you come out?”
He hits the steering wheel again. “Because! When it’s over, everyone will be gone. No one will be left!”
I blink, trying to comprehend. “If everyone will be gone, then what purpose does the silo serve?”
He shakes his head furiously. “Woman! You’re not making any sense! Hank! You talk to her.”
I look down at my hands and squeeze my fingers. “All I’m saying, T.J., is if you’re safe in your silo, why do you need to know how to defend yourselves, and if you’re not safe because intruders can get in, then why are you in there?”
T.J.’s hand shoots out so fast, I barely see it coming, but Hank does, as he bear hugs me, and grabs T.J.’s wrist, whose hand was on its way to my face! Hank stares at T.J., but his voice is right in my ear.
“I’ll forgive you once for that, T.J., but don’t ever lay hands on her.” He drops T.J.’s hand.
I’m frozen and mortified. I’m afraid to move an inch so I stare straight ahead as I whisper, “Thank you, Hank.”
Hank turns on me, and I think he’s going to be kind by the look on his face, until he opens his mouth. “You’d do well to remember you have a place. You cannot talk to the men like that and not expect retribution. I won’t always be able to protect you.” Fear grips me like I’ve never known. Why would he say that, and what does it mean?
I say nothing in response, but instead mutely nod my head.