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Unit Four’s bunkhouse was a madhouse by the time Laramie returned, covered in sweat and grime. Her new bike had been left in the training garage. Since she hadn’t earned a place in a gang, she couldn’t use the bunker’s garage.
She stepped her careful way up the stairs to the main door. Voices she didn’t recognize shouted and mingled with others she knew from Unit Four. Most sounded friendly. There was at least one argument. A brief laugh struck her imagining Gered arguing with someone.
Laramie decided to finally brave it and slipped in. The rec room teemed with bodies, and the salty scent of sweat and dust and gasoline overwhelmed her own. Leather-jacketed riders squeezed past each other, some heading back into the rooms, some cracking open cold beers and lounging on the couches with Four.
“Who’s this?” A hand flicked her shoulder.
She turned and looked up into cool green eyes with a bit of copper by the left iris. By habit she brushed his hand away. His upper lip curled back in a faint smirk and he took another sip of beer.
“We weren’t gone that long. You fight your way out of the tower?” he asked.
“No, fought Rosche and won and here I am.” She pushed her shoulders back, keeping her hands loose by her sides.
He snorted. “You won?”
“She came through the territory and we picked her up. Rosche decided to give her a shot in the gang.”
To Laramie’s surprise, Dayo had sidled up beside her. The lieutenant leaned a casual hip against the counter.
“Yeah? She in with Four?” The rider still studied her with unnerving interest. She held his gaze, letting her eyes narrow a bit at the corners.
“Trainee. Gered hasn’t decided yet if he’ll stake her. She’s bunking here since we picked her up.” Dayo flicked a look at her and then back to the hallway. She took the hint and mock saluted both of them, before backing away and retreating into the safety of the room.
Gioia lay on her bed, reading a worn paperback. “How’d the day go?”
Laramie sat on her bunk, easing out of her boots and trying not to gag at the stench her socks emitted. “Got on one of your subpar bikes.”
Gioia smirked over her book. “Still salty about that one, are we?”
“You can’t just insult someone’s bike and expect me not to say something every chance I get.” Laramie grinned and tossed her jacket aside. “I’m guessing that’s the other unit outside?”
Gioia grimaced. “Yep. Stay away from Connor. I’m pretty sure he’s crazy and he seems to collect other nutjobs.”
“Let me guess. Tall, green eyes, same boring haircut.”
Gioia snapped a finger at her. “Got it in one. You’re a smart one over there, drifter.”
Laramie set aside her knives. “I tend to keep an eye out for crazy guys who try and corner me in kitchens.”
Gioia tensed a little.
“Dayo came over and ran interference.”
She relaxed. “That’s good or bad. Dayo and Connor don’t play very nice with each other.”
“Sounds like you just described the whole place.”
Gioia snorted a laugh. “That’s true. But welcome to bunker politics. Thankfully we’ll be leaving in the morning. Rosche apparently learned early on not to leave two units in close proximity like this for any amount of time.”
Laramie’s stomach flopped. She felt like a spoiled kid, but... “Leaving?”
Gioia swung her feet over the side of the bed, giving her a sympathetic look. “Sorry. Back on patrol. We’ll only be out for a few days. Three at the most.”
“From what I just saw of my new bunker mates, I can honestly say I’m a little bit jealous I’m not in the unit.” Laramie leaned over and pulled her bag out from under the bed.
Gioia chuckled. “Keep your head down, and time it right. Most of Connor’s gang are partiers, so they’ll be out drinking late at night either in town or over at the tower. Just make sure to lock the door.”
“So I should definitely shower tonight since it doesn’t sound like I’ll have much of a chance?”
Gioia’s smile came wry at the corners. “Yeah. You want to go now? I’ll walk you down and stay with you. They don’t mess with me anymore, but you’re new. Might as well take advantage of safety in numbers.”
Laramie dug out clean clothes. “Thanks.”
Gioia nodded, folding the corner of her page and setting it down on the ragged table.
They took the back stairs down to the shower rooms. Someone had made sure there was a separate area for women. Water splashed and ran in the showers already. Laramie paused and raised an eyebrow at Gioia who grimaced.
“Looks like you’re about to meet Corinne,” she said the name like she’d gotten a mouthful of dust.
Gioia rapped twice, then three times, then once more on the door before pushing in. “She’s dusting insane, but I still got her to agree to this so I knew who was coming in,” Gioia explained. Laramie nodded, committing the sequence to memory.
The occupant of the room turned around as they came in. She stood taller than Gioia, with more curves to flaunt. Though Laramie had never seen Gioia without the baggier trousers and shirts that effectively hid everything about her.
Corinne apparently didn’t suffer from the same shyness. Her fitted shirt hugged her body, allowing hints of skin to show just above her trousers, also skin-tight. Either makeup or engine grease smeared around her eyes, striking against her paler skin and highlighting the dark green.
“Fresh meat?” She pressed her tongue to her teeth, taking her time looking Laramie up and down. She sidled closer, peering down at Laramie, who wasn’t used to other women being as tall, or taller than her. It irritated her.
“Decided to try out for these little gangs you’ve got out here. Heard it wasn’t hard.” Laramie returned the favor, keeping a slightly disdainful look on her face as she scanned Corinne. The other rider scoffed.
“Unit Four try and save you like they did this one?” She flicked fingers with long sharpened nails at Gioia.
“I can take care of myself.”
Corinne pursed her lips in a mocking expression. “You should take notes, Gioia. I always said you could use some more attitude.”
Gioia rolled her eyes. “You gonna shower or what, Corinne?”
Corinne sauntered away. “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. You gonna take a hot shower and wish Gered would come in here and shove you up against the tiles?” She flung a look over her shoulder.
Gioia tucked her hands in her back pockets and turned her face away, ignoring Corinne as she made several obscene noises. Laramie raised an eyebrow again.
“Charming,” she mouthed.
Gioia gave a wry smile. “Yeah, she’s not going to do much to watch your back.”
Laramie turned away from where Corinne was undressing without a care in the world. “Noted.”
True to her word, Gioia waited inside, close to the door while she showered. Laramie finished after Corinne did. The other woman dressed in clothes that probably technically met the uniform requirement and walked out, hips swaying side to side. She paused only to look down at Gioia again where the shorter woman leaned up against the wall, hands still in back pockets.
They exchanged a poisonous look, followed by some sort of almost acknowledgement they’d do the dance, but still stand up for each other when pressed. Laramie watched in interest as she dressed. Survival still didn’t mean you had to be happy with your partner.
Laramie waited until Corinne slammed the door on her way out. “Who got here first?”
“I did. Though I took the long way getting into the gangs.” Gioia shifted slightly between her feet. “Corinne impressed enough when fighting back against the unit who took out her travel crew that Rosche decided to put her right in with the trainees. She already came with some combat training and she’s wicked with a knife...”
“Plus the crazy eyes,” Laramie put in.
“Right.” Gioia chuckled. “No one messes with her.”
Laramie scooped up her dirty clothes, ducking them under the faucet to rinse them out. “About the rules that got read out my first day.” She forced a swallow and the words to continue. She hadn’t worried about it around Unit Four, but now with them leaving... “Those actually get followed?”
Gioia sank back against the wall. “Mostly. There’s a few that’ll try and jump you in an alley. That’s why you always keep a weapon. Rosche will punish those who decide to flaunt the rules outside of trips to town, but it doesn’t stop some who think they could get away with it. Just out-tough these guys in Unit Five, and you should be good.”
“Sounds like it’s going to be a long three days for me,” Laramie said.
Gioia chuckled. “You’ll be fine. We’ll be back soon.”
I can take care of myself, she reminded herself. She’d just never been alone in the middle of a warlord’s gang before. Strange how priorities have shifted to trusting this particular unit. She smiled wryly and followed Gioia from the bathroom.
The rec room had cleared out by the time they made it up. Most of Unit Five appeared to have gone to the showers or headed to get food. Laramie accepted Gioia’s invitation to go to the tower together to eat. Might as well take full advantage before she was on her own again.
She almost hated how dependent she’d gotten on Gioia over the last few days after spending weeks out on the road by herself. The viper flags leered down at her as they entered the tower.
“Drifter.” Rosche’s chillingly deep voice halted her. Gioia went stiff beside her.
Laramie unwillingly pivoted to see Rosche sauntering down the stairs. He came over, hands in his trouser pockets.
“What did you think of the demonstration today?”
“It was...effective, sir.” Disgust roiled inside again.
He flashed a smile that only stoked the storm inside her.
“Good. You ride well.” He swept a lingering look up and down her. She kept her chin up, feet braced a little wider.
“Thanks.” She shifted to start walking again.
“Who taught you?” He now stood even with her, leaning against the railing.
Laramie gritted her teeth and turned again. “My traveler family.”
Amusement lit his eyes. “You’re a little light to be a traveler.”
“Adopted in.” Laramie said tightly. The last thing she wanted to discuss with Rosche was her family.
“They teach you to fight, too?”
She nodded. “In case I ran into any psychotic wannabe warlords.”
Rosche curled a lip in a smile. “I like you.”
“Wish it was mutual.” Laramie tried to back away. Gioia had paled significantly, throwing her freckles in stark relief as she stared at her in something like horror.
Rosche only chuckled. “You have any other skills with that tongue of yours?”
Gioia tugged on her sleeve as she turned again, ready to tempt fate. Her brain decided to listen to Gioia’s warning.
“Are we dismissed?” Her tongue still couldn’t manage to scrape all the sarcasm from the words.
Rosche pushed away from the railing and loomed over her. “For now. I hear you have some other skills and can be useful around here. Don’t take a lesson from Gered on that.”
Laramie’s confusion escaped in a slight crease of her forehead. Rosche didn’t explain, instead sliding his gaze over to Gioia.
“Isn’t that right, Gioia?”
A flicker of irritation lit Gioia’s eyes, chasing away the paleness. It faded just as fast as Rosche stepped closer. She went still, hands in her back pockets, staring at a point on the floor. Laramie tensed, ready to pull a knife.
“Enjoy your evening, Gioia,” was all he said before he left them in the silent hall.
Laramie released her knife as Gioia shuddered a breath. She moved without a backward glance at Laramie, her strides fast and uneven as she entered the dining hall. Laramie followed slower, fighting the churning in her stomach.
When she got out of Rosche’s territory, she was going to see if Gioia wanted to come too.
