The fence bordering the truck stop enclosed the main building, two smaller buildings, and the gas pumps. A portion of road that was also enclosed led to the highway and back to a strip of other businesses that were now destroyed. Haley leaned against one of the tall metal fence posts at a spot that was as far away from the truck stop as she could get without breaking the perimeter. One sneakered foot was propped against the fence behind her. One hand was stuffed into the pocket of her jeans and the other brought a Slim Jim to her mouth. Her black hair hung in a fairly well-maintained bob on one side. A portion of her scalp on the other side was shaved clean and covered by a thinner layer of hair that was swept across in a punk version of a comb-over. Rico hadn’t noticed all those details before because he simply hadn’t looked. When he thought they wouldn’t be together for very long, it didn’t make sense to pay such close attention. Now, however, he was studying her much closer.
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Why? You wanna get busy?”
“Huh?”
“You know.” Keeping the Slim Jim between her teeth, she made fists and pumped them back and forth at waist level. Somehow, the little smirk she wore while biting her stick of meat was more appealing than the intentionally lewd gesture.
“Oh yeah,” Rico said. “Guess it’s been a while since I thought along those lines.”
Haley took the Slim Jim from her mouth and chewed as she asked, “Really? Because, normally when a guy asks how old I am, it’s right before he wants to ask about the other thing.”
“Just making conversation. Didn’t know it would be such a big deal.”
She looked down at the Skinner who sat with his back against the fence, one leg stretched out straight and the other bent so his boot touched his knee. The wooden knuckles were wrapped around his left fist, and he used his right hand to apply a coat of putrid smelling varnish with an old rag. Since he’d been doing the same thing for at least an hour, she lost interest and glanced around at the rest of the truck stop.
Things had settled down in the three hours or so since they’d arrived. Gary and some of the others took their spots near the gate so they could watch the interstate. She’d counted ten people at the truck stop, including Gary and Big Linn. Since everyone else there didn’t use Linda’s real name, Haley had already started thinking of her that way as well. The sun was on its way down, but there was at least another hour or so before darkness set in. Compared to West Virginia, Missouri air was thicker, and the winds were stronger. Loose chains hanging from the fence rattled. A few doors knocked against their frames in the breeze. Other than that, the only other sounds to be heard were the distant chatter of the truck stop people and the grind of battered leather shifting back and forth as Rico’s upper body continued to move in a steady rhythm.
“Twenty-three,” she said.
“What?”
“You asked how old I am. I’m twenty-three.”
Rico looked up at her for all of two seconds, which also made a sound as he shifted within his biker jacket. “You look younger than that.”
“I know, but I’m twenty-three. Honest.”
He nodded and got back to what he’d been doing.
“What about you?” she asked.
“Should I be thinking you want to get busy with an old man?”
“No!” she said. “Just curious.”
“I’m a lot older than twenty-three.”
“Ok. Are you Hispanic?”
Dropping both hands so they rested in his lap, he twisted around to give her a full view of his wide face and blocky features. “Look at this train wreck plastered onto the front of my head. If I had any Mexican, Spanish, Cuban or whatever else in me, I’d look a hell of a lot better.”
She laughed and pulled the wrapper of her Slim Jim down to expose the last inch and a half of spicy, processed meat-like goodness. “Is your full name Ricardo?”
“Nah. I got my name after being put through the system so many times on Rico charges. It’s a racketeering law made to trap gangsters.”
“You’re a gangster?” Haley asked with wide eyes and a mouth that hung open enough to show the bite she’d been chewing.
“I had my moments but wouldn’t say I was a straight-up gangster. Rico is used by the feds to nail people they otherwise wouldn’t be able to touch.” He looked up from what he was doing and wistfully added, “That was back in the day when the cops ranked up there with my biggest problems. Good times.”
“That’s cool. I wish I had some cool story to go along with my name. I’m Haley because my grandmother was Haley. Riveting.”
“It ain’t a contest.”
“So do you think we’re stuck here?”
“How do you figure that?”
Haley shrugged and examined the last nub of Slim Jim between her fingers. “They threatened to keep us here unless we pay them, and now you’re staying to try and get these werewolves. You really think they’ll let us go when you’re done?”
“First of all, you always gotta be ready to trade to get anywhere anymore. You should know that.”
“I didn’t go much of anywhere other than home and the tattoo shop before or after things went bad. Then,” she said, “it was just the shop. We went looking for what we needed.”
“Well, you had it good. As for bumping up the deal, in case you weren’t payin’ attention, I was the one who did that.”
“Why?”
“Because it sounds like there could be some new breed of werewolf out there. I wanna get a look at it. That’s how Skinners stay on top of things. If that Half Breed really did what Big Linn says it did, then I would’ve driven all this way just to see it anyway. Unless that thing grew a tendency toward niceness, killing it would’ve been the next step no matter what.”
“So…you would’ve done all of this for free?”
Rico grinned in a way that was very similar to when he was thinking back on his larcenous early days. “Pretty much.”
“Niiiice.”
“These are good people, but it ain’t like they could keep us here even if they wanted to,” he added. “It’ll take a lot more than what they got to make me sweat. Besides, they won’t have anything to bitch about. It ain’t like I’m ripping them off. They’re still going to get some high quality exterminator services without having to put up and feed a bunch of Army guys.”
“Those soldiers aren’t so bad,” Haley admitted. “Sometimes they’d come through St. Albans with food and blankets.”
“If the IRD came through here it wouldn’t be so easy,” he told her. “They’d clean these folks out of a good portion of their supplies and drain a hearty chunk of gas, only they’d call it requisitioning.”
“Is requisitioning anything like making them pay for services that would have been done for free anyway?”
Rico tried to come up with a good comeback but wasn’t able to do much better than, “It’s different.”
“How?”
“I don’t know,” he said in a huffy tone. “Maybe it isn’t. I guess I’m just sick of the damn government. The couple of times someone in charge got a look at the horrifying shit that was out here a bunch of years ago, all they wanted to do was find a way to get it out of their sight. Skinners took care of business, and we got hunted like criminals. Then when everything gets ripped apart in the world, we’re the ones gettin’ requisitioned.”
Haley chomped the last bit of Slim Jim and nodded. “I can see why that leaves a bad taste in your mouth.”
“Speakin’ of bad tastes, were you ever gonna offer me some of that?”
“There’s a ton of them in the store,” she said. “And since everyone’s on our side right now, we’ve got the run of the place. I’ll grab some more. You want anything else?”
“How about something sweet?”
“What do you like? Chocolate’s gone, but there’s some other good stuff.”
“Surprise me.” Rico was going to say something else to speed her along but didn’t have to. Haley crumpled up the wrapper in her hand and started crossing the long patch of grass to get to the truck stop. Before the place had become more of a fort than a pit stop, the wide oval of greenery had been a place for drivers to toss their cigarette butts and walk their dogs. Now, it was an oasis behind chain link. Unfortunately, there were still plenty of dogs to be found on the other side of the fence.
Rico had felt the Half Breeds coming less than a minute ago. It started as a subtle itch in one scar and had grown steadily ever since. There wasn’t a real science to judging things like distance or speed of whatever aggravated the scars, but every Skinner eventually got a feel for it. Much like counting the seconds between lightning and thunder to gauge how far away a storm was, the method at least gave Rico a vague notion to go by. By the time Haley was inside, the storm was close enough to irritate both of Rico’s hands. He got to his feet, caught the attention of Big Linn and waved her over.
“What’s up?” Linda asked once she was close enough to speak to him without shouting.
“The pack’s coming. You’re gonna show me the exact spot where they were digging, and we’re gonna make a stand.”
“I’ll tell the others.”
“You’ll tell them to keep their distance,” Rico quickly said. “It’ll just be you and me getting up close.”
Fear showed in her eyes, which wasn’t a bad thing. After working with so many non-Skinners over the last few years, Rico had learned that the ones who weren’t afraid were either reckless or stupid. People like that were great to keep a Half Breed distracted for a few seconds but not much good for anything else.
“I haven’t killed many of them things,” she said.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be doing most of the heavy lifting. Can you hold your own long enough to tell me if any of them are getting around behind me?”
Linda nodded.
“Now go get that AK of yours and something else with stopping power as backup. Something like a shotgun.”
“We’ve got plenty of shotguns.”
“Perfect,” Rico said. “If you’d rather travel a little lighter, grab a .45, and I’ll set you up with some ammo. Are you gonna be ok with coming along with me?”
She was still nervous, but nodded anyway. “I guess. The rest won’t want to just stand back and do nothing, though.”
“They don’t have to do nothing. Once I start doing my thing, the pack will scatter. I need your buddies to pick off however many of them they can from a distance. Go on and get ready. We don’t have a lot of time.”
Linda nodded and started turning around to do her part. Before she got too far, Rico called out, “Hey, Linn!”
She stopped and turned.
“Do me one more favor and make sure Haley stays put inside the store where she’s safe.”
Linda nodded. “We’ve got a shelter in the old TV room.”
Studying her with an intense glare, Rico asked, “You gonna hang in there for me?”
“I should be all right. Won’t be the first time I’ve shot some of these things up close.”
“All right, then.”
She pointed to a section of the fence that was two posts down from where Rico had been sitting. “The spot those things like so much is right over there. It’s the part covered with them towels.”
“Towels and tape patching the weak spot on your perimeter? Them IRD boys didn’t show you a damn thing.”
She grinned widely. “There’s fence under there. Them towels are soaked in Ammonia and Kerosene. Makes them think twice about chewing on the chain link, and if they get too frisky, we can set the towels on fire real easy.”
“Did the IRD guys show you that?”
“Nope. Came up with that one myself.”
Showing her a grin while pointing at her with a callused finger, Rico said, “See now? That’s why I want you standing with me out there. You got the goods, Linn.”
“It’s Big Linn.”
“Somethin’ tells me you earned that title with something other than the miles of sexy you’re packin’ under them coveralls.”
“You’ll just have to find out for yourself, Skinner Man.”
As Linda took off running, Rico watched her leave while wearing the widest grin he’d had for quite a while. Even wrapped up in greasy coveralls that left plenty to the imagination, Linda obviously had some major league curves going on. He’d admired her generous breasts as best he could without earning a smack across the mouth, and now that she was headed in the other direction, he gave himself free rein to watch her full, rounded hips move back and forth. He must have been staring a bit too hard because she spun around to catch him in the act. She wagged a finger at him, and Rico shrugged his shoulders as if to plead no contest. When she turned back around, so did he.
Facing the fence, Rico gathered up his varnishing supplies and tucked them into an interior pocket of his jacket. He drew the Sig Sauer. As usual, it was loaded with a mix of standard .45 caliber rounds on top of the magazine and Snappers at the bottom so he could get to the good stuff by burning through the first batch of rounds. After popping out the regular bullets, Rico replaced them with enough Snappers to top off the load. He paused before sliding the magazine into the pistol and thought for a second. On a hunch, he removed the first two rounds and loaded a pair of plain bullets instead. He then slapped the magazine into the Sig and repeated the process with the spare ones in another pocket to make sure they were all ready to go.
The itch in his palms was getting stronger, prompting him to slip the wooden knuckles back on while looking up and through the chain link fence. Beyond the perimeter, the tree-covered terrain sloped gently upward. Most everything had become covered with trees or tall weeds since the packs had taken over. Without anyone maintaining the grounds or rolling over them with a constant flow of tires and treads, nature crept back in just like all those television documentaries said it would. While that made for prettier views, it also made it tougher to spot small groups of Half Breeds from a distance.
Some trees rustled a little over a hundred yards away. Some dust was kicked up from that same area. If the pack meant to charge straight at the truck stop, they would have been there already. Instead, they were hanging back. Half Breeds could hunt at any time they liked but preferred to feed at night. Rico looked at the sky to find dark purple and orange hues cast upon the clouds. The Half Breeds wouldn’t be hanging back for much longer. Even though he heard someone approaching him from behind, he kept his eyes pointed upward.
“Taking in the scenery?” Gary asked in a biting tone.
“These days, everyone should,” Rico replied. “Never know how soon it’ll be before you can’t see it any more.”
“With all the orders you were giving to Big Linn, I thought you’d be doing a whole lot more than standing around with yer thumb up yer ass.”
“Did you give her the backup weapon she asked for?”
“Look at me when I’m talkin’ to you, boy!”
Rico wheeled around to show Gary a glare that made the smaller man reflexively back away. “Call me boy again and I’ll use this,” he said while holding up his fist to display a row of wooden spikes, “as the world’s worst catheter.”
Whether he got the medical reference or not, Gary fully understood the lethal promise in the Skinner’s eyes. “Easy there, bud. All I’m sayin’ is that it ain’t right for you to come around spouting orders. We got a way of doin’ things around here.”
“And if that way was a good one, you wouldn’t need any help with this pack you were crying to me about. You wanna be helpful? Hang back to snipe as many of those things as you can.”
“I can do more to help, you know. We all can. That’s all I’m trying to say.”
“You will be helping,” Rico sighed. “Just do what I asked, and you’ll be doing plenty.”
Shrugging, Gary backed away and walked over to have a word with the small group of locals who’d gathered behind him. Rico imagined there was plenty of tough talk and colorful language being whispered among them, but the bunch of ex-mechanics, cashiers and fry cooks quickly fell into line to take the positions Rico had requested. As soon as she emerged from the truck stop’s largest building, Linda was greeted by Gary who handed her a shotgun to go along with the AK-47 she was already carrying. After a brief conversation, Linda marched over to Rico.
“Looks like we’re all with you,” she told him.
“Gary too?” Rico asked.
“Oh, yeah.”
“He’s got a funny way of showing it.”
Linda shrugged. “Gary’s problem is that he doesn’t think too much before he says stuff. Even if he did…I doubt it would help much. He’s a big fan, though.”
“Fan of what?”
“Skinners,” Linda said. “Lots of us are. After everything that’s happened, you’re the closest thing to superheroes we got.”
Rico chuckled and held up the fist encased in a weapon infused with almost as much blood as it had spilled. “That’s kind of stretching it, don’t ya think?”
“Well…maybe. Still, you guys do a lot for the rest of us, and we’re grateful.”
“Then how about handing over some free gas and supplies?”
Linda chucked him on the shoulder with a good amount of power behind her fist. “You wouldn’t just up and leave, even if you know you could have taken whatever you wanted.”
“We’ll just see about that. How’s the kid?”
“Haley wasn’t happy when I told her to stay put, but she’s doing it. Had to leave her in the front of the store where she could watch what happened through the window. And she’s no kid. I imagine she likes being called that almost as much as you like being called boy.”
Scowling, Rico looked at the truck stop’s main building to find the slender young woman standing behind some old painted lettering advertising a sale on wiper fluid. “She’s supposed to be somewhere safe,” he said. “She could get hit by anything standing there like that.”
“It was either that or lock her up.”
“Locking her up sounds fine, just so long as she’s out of the line of fire.”
“You really think it’ll get that bad?” Linda asked.
Rico turned toward the fence and looked beyond the perimeter. The trees stopped rustling and the dust had settled, but the burn in his palms was still there. “Probably not. It’s tough to say how these things go sometimes.”
“They should be coming ‘round any time now,” she said. “Usually not long after the sun goes down.”
“Yeah, that’s what I figure.”
“What’s the plan?”
“You and me get on the other side of this fence,” Rico told her. “I get up close and do the superhero thing while you play sidekick.”
“I was just joking about the superhero crack,” she said.
“Damn. I was digging through some old comics not too long ago and kind of liked the comparison.”
Although he’d meant to put another smile on her face, it was getting too close to dark for the attempt to work. Linda looked up at the sky and shifted as if she was also feeling a physical reaction to being so close to the pack of Half Breeds. Her battered AK-47 was strapped over one shoulder, and a shotgun was in her left hand. It was a sawed-off double-barreled model that would serve her well if any of those creatures got up close. Judging by the scrapes and bite marks in the shotgun’s wooden stock, it had already seen plenty of action.
“Is there another spot for us to get outside the fence, or do we have to use the main gate and walk all the way around?” he asked.
“There’s a platform right there,” she said while pointing to one of the taller posts several yards in the opposite direction. “We can climb over.”
“Screw that. I’d rather walk.”
“Me too.”
They moved straight through the truck stop, crossing the lot with the gas pumps and passing in front of the main building. Rico glanced over to Haley’s window and gave her a nod. She tried to look angry at him, but threw him a wave instead.
“Once we’re out there, you just keep your back to the fence or something solid,” Rico said. “Shoot any of those things that get close to you, and let me know if anything gets too close to taking a bite outta me.”
“That’s it?”
“You want there to be more?” he chuckled.
“We tried standing against them outside the fence before, and they pushed us back,” Linda said. “Lost some people, too. We got close to turning the tide a few times, but that one…their leader…he saw to it that we didn’t finish the job.”
“How many of your people were killed?”
So far, no real casualty numbers had been mentioned by anyone at the truck stop. Rico found that sort of thing in lots of the civilian groups he spoke to. It was a foregone conclusion that friends and family had been lost. Speaking about it just fed the sorrow. The only reason Rico asked about it now was to get a handle on how big of a problem this pack truly was.
“A couple dozen of us settled here when this place was first set up,” Linda said. “Some were killed when the first bunch of those dog things came through. We lost more when one or two packs staked their claim on this area. We killed a bunch of them with some fire bombs and thought we had a good handle on things, so we settled in and opened for business. Then, people started disappearing.”
“Disappearing?” Rico asked. “Nobody mentioned that.”
“That’s been happening for a while,” Linda said as she nodded up to the man in charge of opening the front gate. “Didn’t think it had to do with the packs.”
“Did you find any bodies?”
“One poor lady from Sioux Falls stayed here for a few days. She went missing and we eventually found her body, but it was pretty far gone. Looked like a dried up piece of rotten fruit.”
Rico tightened his fist around his wooden weapon until the thorns dug into his flesh.
“Does that mean anything to you?” Linda asked.
It did, but he shook his head and continued walking. Big Linn and the rest of them already had enough on their plates without having to deal with more.