Jack stalked along the streambank, clutching his guitar to his chest with both sweaty hands. When he was well out of sight of the fire, he stopped, and tipped his head back. He was sucking wind like he’d just run a half-marathon, and he could feel his heartbeat on every single inch of his skin. Ten long minutes later, he had finally idled down to where he could think.
What the hell had happened back there?
He closed his eyes and groaned softly in the dark, feeling a combination of embarrassment and lust he could say with absolute certainty he’d never felt before. He’d sung with hundreds of people in his life, in church when he was a kid, during his garage-band days and beyond, in his ministry. And never, not once, had he experienced something like the connection he’d just experienced with Piper.
“God?” He pleaded to the stars. “Could you, I don’t know, just give them all amnesia? Especially her? How am I supposed to go back there and face them?” He groaned again, this time in disgust. “For pity’s sake, Jack, what are you? Twelve? Get a grip.”
A rustle in the brush along the streambank startled him, and a moment later, Rosemary trotted to his side, tongue lolling in the moonlight. Ed called out a few seconds later. “Jack? Everything all right?”
“Fine.” Oh, Lord, his voice had cracked. He really was revisiting his adolescence. He cleared his throat. “I’m fine. Just needed to, you know.” He decided to leave it at that.
Ed stepped into view, placing his feet carefully in the near-dark. “We’re circling the wagons for the night. Owen and Piper have already turned in.” He shook his head, and Jack could hear his grin even if he couldn’t see it. “Sure enjoyed your music. You have a real gift.”
“Thank you,” Jack said tightly. “I guess I’ll head back, then. We’ll probably want to get an early start tomorrow, get across the river with our wits about us.” Though he seriously doubted he’d ever collect all his wits, ever again, not the way they were scattered now. “You, ah, said the others had already gone to bed?”
“Yep. You go on ahead. I’ve got to see the same man about that horse. I’ll be right behind you.”
Jack left Ed and Rosemary and headed back to camp, forcing his feet to move briskly in spite of his reluctance. What if Ed had been wrong? What if she was still up? He stopped for a moment and closed his eyes. And if she wasn’t, how was he going to face her in the morning? It took a considerable amount of willpower to get his feet moving again.
Owen and Piper had indeed gone to bed, and Jack quickly followed suit, settling into his tent and releasing a pent up breath as slowly and quietly as he could. He lay there, tense from head to toe, and tried to think it through.
Maybe she hadn’t experienced what he had. Ed hadn’t noticed anything – either that, or he was the greatest actor of all time. Jack hadn’t made eye contact with Owen, but even if he had sensed Jack’s emotions, he wouldn’t talk out of turn. Jack smiled grimly in the dark. No, if there was one thing he could say about Owen, it was that he didn’t run on at the mouth. Maybe it had just been him.
He thought back, remembering the way his voice had wrapped around Piper’s like a lover, the sudden lock of energy between them, the way her eyes had glowed, green as grass in the firelight, the way her cheeks had flushed soft and rosy and her lips had seemed to caress each word she sang, looking so damn soft and kissable…
Jack barely stifled another groan. No. It hadn’t been just him.
Through the long night, he dozed fitfully, imagining and dismissing a dozen different things he could say to her. He heard Owen take over the watch from Ed, then Piper take it over from Owen. When her low voice called his name two hours later, it was a relief. He unzipped from his tent and rose to face her, but before he could speak, she did.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said in a rush. “I meant what I said before, about not, you know, hooking up. With anyone.” She set her jaw belligerently. “I know I’m not who you want. I’m not Layla. Let’s just chalk it up to a bizarre alignment of the planets and move on.”
He was speechless. He waited for words to rise up, but nothing came. Finally, he just nodded. She nodded as well, and said, “Good. Everything’s been quiet. Goodnight.”
Well, then. In under two minutes, it was over. Jack slid into his boots and retrieved his shotgun, then went to walk around the camp. As Piper had reported, the night was quiet, and he was left with all kinds of time to go back over what she’d said, brief though it had been.
He wasn’t inexperienced. He’d dated his share of women and had been sexually involved with a few of them. But the whole “hooking up” phenomenon had come after his high school and college years, and it just served to highlight the difference in their ages. He felt suddenly old, washed up and humiliated. Why would a beautiful young woman even look twice at a pastor who was as close in age to her parents as he was to her?
Nor was he a stranger to sexual longing. He’d been lathered up over a woman before, had felt burned up by desire. After his ordination, he had still dated occasionally, though he had not sought to have sex with any of those women. His personal beliefs might accept sex before marriage, but the teachings of the church were clear, and he had an example to set for the kids in his ministry.
Then Layla had happened.
He paused in his circuit where the cottonwoods gave way to prairie, and looked up at the blaze of stars. “You’re laughing at me,” he said to her. He could feel her presence all around him, a tingle on his skin, a barely-there scent that stirred memories, some good, some bad. “Don’t even try to deny it.”
As if in agreement, a sudden gust of wind stirred grit and pollen into his face, and he sneezed. He swiped at his nose, then sighed. “I miss you,” he said softly. “I think I always will. But what I felt for you was…dark. You were forbidden. What I felt for you was wrong. Not wrong because of you, but wrong because of what was in my heart.”
Another swirl of wind, gentler this time, and he felt her sorrow as if she were standing right beside him, shields down, wide-open. His throat was tight. “I’m sorry for that. For how I treated you. You deserved so much better, and I’m glad you found it. But I’ll bet you already know all that, don’t you?” He was quiet for a few moments. “What I feel for Piper is different. Not easier, but different. I like her, so much. She’s my friend. Until tonight, that was all.”
He would have sworn, then, that he heard her laugh, the sound blending with the distant chuckle of the stream. It made him smile, if crookedly. “Yeah, yuck it up. Criminy, I’ve never felt anything like that. I thought my skin was going to catch on fire. And now we get to pretend it never happened. How well is that going to work?”
Frustration set him in motion again. He prowled several circuits around the camp before he felt a measure of calm, returning to the same spot he’d stood before and picking up the conversation where he’d left off. “She’s not what I had in mind, Layla, not at all.” He laughed wryly. “But then, neither were you. She’s wounded, but she is as tough as they come. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have at my back or by my side, the way the world is now. Well, okay, I’d take Martin, too, but he’s nowhere near as pretty as she is.” He sighed. “I guess I forgot for a while that it’s in God’s hands. Everything is.”
Dawn was an hour away, but a meadowlark burst into song just a few yards away, the sound lifting from an old fence line that was barely visible in the moonlight. Jack’s eyes stung with tears. He could feel her fading. “Thank you,” he said softly. “What a beautiful gift. Rest well, Layla.”
Her presence dissipated on a soft, westerly breeze. He stood for a moment, until she’d faded completely, then returned to camp. Though it wasn’t yet 5:00 am, Owen was already up, moving quietly around the fire, prepping for breakfast and sipping a mug of tea. He looked up at Jack, but didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d get a jump on it, make some fresh biscuits.”
“Piper will be happy. She loves her mom’s biscuits. No pressure, though.” Jack turned his back to the fire, and scanned the night around them, relieved that he could mention her name naturally. For the moment, anyway, he felt peaceful all the way to his bones. “Did you have bad dreams? It wouldn’t be a surprise, given what we saw yesterday.”
“No.” Owen glanced up at him again. A few days ago, he would have left it at that. It pleased Jack that he chose to explain. “Good dreams. They’re worse than the bad ones. For a few seconds after I wake up, I think she’s still alive. Then I remember.”
So Layla had visited Owen as well. How that would have bothered him, once upon a time. He gazed at the other man with genuine compassion, trying to figure out how to offer comfort. They may have reached a place of ease between them, but he doubted Owen would appreciate hearing Layla had stopped in to see him, too. “Verity says our loved ones can visit in dreams, that it’s one way they let us know they aren’t really gone, they’re just with us in another form. I don’t know if that helps, or hurts.”
Owen looked to the side. “A little of both, I guess.” He smiled a sad but very male smile, one Jack recognized from a long, long time ago. “I liked the form she was in.” He stood up abruptly, grabbing their water bottles and a flashlight and heading towards the stream. “I’ll fill these up and get them purified. I know Piper’s anxious about getting across the Missouri, and the sooner we can get that behind us, the better.”
Not long after Owen returned from the stream, Ed was up, and Piper was right behind him. She murmured a good morning to both Ed and Owen and nodded at Jack, meeting his eyes with a determined lift of her chin. He nodded back and smiled, though he kept it brief. Whatever was between them would have to wait.
Jack and Owen had already broken down their tents and loaded their bikes. Owen served breakfast, and they ate in almost total silence, all of them radiating tension in their own way. Owen’s face was a stoic mask; Ed muttered constantly to Rosemary under his breath and jiggled his legs; and Piper was in full, magnificent Valkyrie mode, her face fierce with battle-readiness. Jack and Owen cleaned up while Ed and Piper broke down their tents. They were loaded up and on the road before the sun had completely cleared the horizon.
They were planning to make the crossing in Decatur, Nebraska, a tiny town roughly halfway between Omaha and Sioux City. If that bridge wasn’t viable, they would head south to Blair, a larger town not far north of Omaha. After that, their choices got slim. Either they would have to chance the larger city bridges, or find a way to portage.
Long before they entered the town proper on Highway 51, they were sure there were people living there. Smoke rose here and there in the early morning light, and there was a subtle sense of activity about the little village. They paused where Highway 51 intersected with 4th Avenue to check in with each other. Jack looked at Piper.
“Bond-lines?”
“Not yet. I don’t think anyone is in our immediate vicinity. But I feel people.”
“I do, too.” He looked at Ed and Owen. “Any input?”
Ed inclined his head down at Rosemary. The dog’s scruffy ears were at maximum perk, and she was quivering. “She’s nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs, but she’s not growling.” He glanced at Piper. “Wish your mom was here. Sure would be nice to know what Rosemary’s sensing.”
Piper’s face tightened; Jack would bet she was doing her best not to think of her mother right now. Swinging her rifle from her shoulder and placing it across her lap, she looked around, then lifted her chin to the east. “River’s that way. Stands to reason the bridge is, too.”
They wound their way through quiet residential streets. When they had gone several blocks, curtains started to flicker in windows, and Jack smelled, of all things, bacon. Rich, smoky, bacon. Piper, who was still in the lead, turned to look at him. “They know we’re here now.” Her eyes flickered to the other men. “Can you all smell that?”
Jack nodded, swallowing a mouth full of saliva. He glanced at Rosemary, who was whining softly now, two delicate strands of drool dripping from the sides of her muzzle. “If it’s a trap, it’s a darn good one.”
They started to catch glimpses of the wide, brown river through the trees, and to the north, Jack spotted the white crisscross pattern of a large bridge. He pulled up beside Piper and pointed. “There – see it? Do you think they’re just going to let us cross?”
She shrugged, but when they rounded a bend in the road and spotted the entrance to the bridge, he got his answer. Two people, both holding shotguns, were standing in front of the bridge, silhouetted against the morning sky. A man and a woman, Jack saw as they crept closer, both of them breathing heavily, as if they’d run to beat the travelers here. When they were about 20 feet away, the man held up his hand.
“That’s far enough, for now.” He paused to wipe his hand quickly on the leg of his jeans, then returned it to the stock of his shotgun. Beside him, the woman was discreetly wiping her mouth on her shoulder. The scent of bacon was thick as smoke. The man spoke again. “There’s a toll to cross the bridge. We don’t take money, but we’ll take food, medicine, or gold jewelry. If you don’t have anything you can spare, you can work the toll off in advance, but it’ll be hard work. And if none of that’s acceptable,” his hands tightened on the shotgun, and his jaw jutted forward, “There are other bridges south of here, in Blair or Omaha, or north in Sioux City.”
Jack looked at Piper. She spoke low, and out of the corner of her mouth. “Strong bond-lines stretching behind us, into the village. Not many. Maybe a dozen.” Jack nodded, then raised his eyebrows and tilted his head at the pair, asking what she thought without voicing the words. She caught on immediately, and shrugged. “Seems fair, as long as they don’t try to take us for everything we’ve got.”
Jack turned back to the man, who was actually more of a boy, no more than 19 or 20. The girl looked younger yet, and there was a similar cast to their features. Siblings, maybe, related, surely. “We’ll agree to trading our way across, if the rates are reasonable,” he said. “Do you have any information about what’s on the other side? What we’ll be headed into?”
The pair exchanged glances. The girl nodded, and the boy’s shoulders relaxed. He turned back to Jack, visibly more at ease. “Michaela says you’re alright. My name’s Christopher. We’ll tell you what we know at no extra charge. We don’t get many travelers through here, so we’d like to know where you’ve come from and what you’ve seen.” His face reddened slightly. “I’m sorry we need to charge you for the bridge and all, but we need to survive. We have people depending on us.”
Jack glanced at his companions and got nods all around. They shut their bikes down, but stayed on them, just in case. Owen backed his bike up and to the side so he could watch behind them. Ed let Rosemary down but kept her close with a low command. Piper scooted up beside Jack on her bike before she shut hers down and kept her rifle across her lap.
Jack performed the introductions and gave them the information Christopher had requested. Both of them nodded as Jack spoke, absorbing his words like water on parched ground. When he’d finished outlining where they’d been and what they’d seen, Michaela spoke.
“Have you heard from anyone from Phoenix? We have friends who were going to college there, and I just hoped…” She trailed off with a sad shrug.
“No, we haven’t. I’m sorry.” He paused a beat. “Now – two things: What can we expect ahead? And for pity’s sake, is that bacon we’re smelling?”
Michaela and Christopher both grinned, and Christopher spoke. “Only thing we’ve got an abundance of. A semi-truck carrying cold cuts and such stopped here just as the plague came through – the driver was already sick – and we ran generators to keep it all cold. Some of it we just couldn’t eat in time, but the bacon is still good. We could work out a trade there, too.”
He wiggled his eyebrows in what he probably thought was a shrewd and worldly manner, and Jack’s heart broke at his youth, at the air of innocence he had somehow managed to hang onto. He reminded Jack of the kids they’d left behind in Woodland Park, and he missed their bright energy with a suddenness and intensity that surprised him. James, and Chloe, and little Rainbow Dash.
“A trade would be great.” His voice was husky when he replied, and he felt Piper look at him curiously. He cleared his throat. “Now, Piper, if you’ll get out your map and your notes, we’ll find out what these young people know.”
Christopher and Michaela both scooted around to flank Piper when she unfolded her map. Christopher traced a slightly grubby finger across the bridge and along Highway 175 where it ran into Iowa. “You can’t see it from here, but around this curve, the road is impassable. Cars stacked up clear into Onawa, which is about seven miles past the bridge.” He traced another line. “Same thing on I29. I have no idea where people were trying to go, but it seems like the whole world died in their cars.” He swallowed hard and squinted a little. “We’ve been back and forth with Onawa quite a bit. Lots of folks from here worked there before the plague, and they’re trying to clear Highway 175. They’re also working their way north and south on I29, salvaging stuff from the vehicles. People packed up their valuables, and what food and water they had left, and there it sits.” He shrugged, trying to be casual, but Jack could feel the horror the young man felt, even through his shields. “They’re not using it anymore.”
Piper touched the tiny dot on the map. “So the people in Onawa are friendly?” She looked up at Christopher and raised an eyebrow. “They won’t charge us a toll to go through?”
Christopher’s face reddened again. “No, I, ah…well…I don’t think…”
Michaela rolled her eyes. “What my idiot cousin is trying to say is it’s all good. Tell them we let you across, and it’ll be fine.”
Jack nudged Piper with his elbow. “Play nice,” he murmured. He checked over his shoulder. Ed was walking a slow circle around the area they were in, letting Rosemary sniff, but keeping her at his heel. Owen was still scanning the town behind them, but his huge hand was splayed on his chest, and when Jack reached out for what the other man was feeling, he got an almost overwhelming wave of sorrow. What was that all about? With an effort, he returned his attention to Piper’s map.
Michaela reached out to run her considerably cleaner finger in an arc representing a 50 mile radius around Decatur. “We’ve seen people from nearby towns, but only a handful from farther away. A man from Des Moines came through this spring. He was there on business and got stranded, and he was going to look for his family in Oregon. He said conditions there were pretty bad. And only about a month ago, a group came through from Madison, Wisconsin. They were headed for Montana – said they were going to hide out in the mountains like old-time trappers and live off the land.” She glanced at Christopher and shuddered. “They bothered me. It was four men and two women, and the whole thing just felt…off.”
Christopher looked grim and picked up the narrative. “Yeah, we didn’t offer them any bacon. Anyway, they said they heard Chicago was a death trap. We’ve seen folks from a little further out traveling up and down the river. Only one from Omaha, but five or six from Sioux City, is that right, Michaela?”
“Six,” she said. “Two just a few days ago.” She looked at Christopher again. “That’s about all I can think of.”
“Me, too. Sorry it’s not more.”
Jack looked at Piper. She nodded and folded up her map, while Jack looked back at Christopher. “What do we owe you?”
Christopher wiggled his eyebrows again. “Whatcha got?”
Now that it came down to it, Jack was surprised at how uncomfortable he was offering marijuana in trade, especially to a couple of kids – he felt like a drug pusher. Never mind they’d brought it for this express purpose.
“Well, we’ve got some fresh vegetables and some eggs. And, ah, we’ve got some dried venison and some navy beans, too. Maybe we could spare one of our fuel filters…”
“Uh, Jack?” Piper was frowning at him. “What are you doing?”
He cut his eyes at Christopher and Michaela. “They’re kids.”
“Yeah? And?” She huffed out a breath and turned to the pair. “We’ve got pot. How much for the four of us to cross and some of that bacon?”
“Medicinal marijuana,” Jack clarified, then rubbed a hand across his forehead, speaking low to Piper. “I just turned into a prissy, fuddy-duddy preacher, didn’t I?”
“Totally.” There was laughter in her voice. “You’re a rock star, remember?” Then, to the kids, “Well? How much?”
Michaela and Christopher exchanged glances. “For grandpa,” Michaela said. She looked at Piper. “It’s good for pain, right? Arthritis?”
“Yes, it is.”
“But will he smoke it?” Christopher looked doubtful. “You know how he is, Mikey.”
“Don’t call me Mikey, and he will smoke it, if I have to hog-tie him and stuff a joint in his mouth.”
Jack could tell that Piper was biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling – there was no doubt that Michaela would do just as she threatened. Again, there was laughter in her voice when she spoke. “He doesn’t have to smoke it. You can give it to him in an oil or fat base. Heck, you can even bake it into something and not tell him.”
Piper pulled a blank page from her notebook and glanced at Jack. “Let me write down instructions for them.” She looked at both Michaela and Christopher. “I’ll give you enough for several months of pain relief, but you should see if you can find some locally. I guarantee you someone around here was growing, and if you think about it, you’ll have a good idea where to look.”
Michaela and Christopher looked at each other. “The Stedman brothers,” they said in unison. Michaela turned back to Piper. “We know where to look. Now tell me what to do.”
They bent their heads together over Piper’s notes, and Jack took the opportunity to check in with Ed and Owen. Ed gave him a thumbs-up, but Owen wouldn’t meet his eyes when Jack walked to stand beside him. Jack cut right to it. “What is it?”
“They need to get out of here,” Owen said quietly. “They need to leave. Something terrible is going to happen.” He did look at Jack then, and his eyes were bleak. “I saw it. For the first time, I caught a glimpse ahead of time. I think this whole town is going to burn. They need to leave. Soon.”
Jack didn’t ask if he was sure. He nodded, and returned to Piper and the kids. When they finished, he cleared his throat, and decided the direct approach was best. “Look, I don’t know if you all will believe me, but here goes. We have intuitive skills, you might call them psychic skills, that we didn’t have before. One of my friends is getting a warning. He says your town is going to burn, and you need to leave.”
Michaela and Christopher exchanged a long look. Michaela spoke. “We’ve got them, too. Me, most of all. Did he say when this was going to happen?”
Jack glanced back at Owen. “Not exactly. But soon.”
“Okay.” She straightened, and handed her shotgun to Christopher. “You go get grandpa and the kids and have them start packing up, then warn the others. I’ll finish here.”
Christopher nodded at Jack and Piper. “Good luck on your journey.” Then he took off at a jog, nodding at Ed and Owen on his way past. Piper got out the marijuana, loading a generous amount into a plastic bag and scribbling additional instructions on the paper while Michaela ran, swift and graceful, to a nearby house. She came back with four familiar yellow and red packages, and Jack’s mouth started watering again. She handed them to Piper, then impulsively hugged her.
“I wish you could stay,” Jack heard her say. “If you come back through, will you stay for a while?”
Piper swallowed hard, but smiled. “You bet. Thanks for the bacon, and good luck getting that grandpa of yours high.”
Michaela laughed, and lifted her hand in farewell. They fired up their bikes and rumbled across the bridge. When Jack turned for a look back, Michaela had already disappeared from view. He hoped Owen’s warning was enough. In Onawa, they barely stopped rolling, pausing just long enough to identify themselves to a sentry and drop Christopher and Michaela’s names. A strange urgency seemed to have seized all of them, and once they were past the town, they pushed the bikes faster than usual, hardly slowing as they passed through a series of tiny towns: Turin, Soldier, Ute, Charter Oak.
Denison was a little larger, so they scooted around it on unmarked country roads, eventually weaving their way back to Highway 30. Just east of Arcadia, Ed signaled that Rosemary needed to stop, and they pulled into a picnic area. While Rosemary took care of her business, Piper pulled out her map and they all bent over it. Piper traced the line she had marked, then straightened abruptly, wrapping her arms around her elbows.
“Okay, I’ll just say it. Anyone else got the heebie-jeebies?”
Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve had them since Owen talked about Decatur burning. I thought it was just being there, but it keeps getting worse, not better.”
Owen didn’t say anything, but the miserable expression on his face spoke for him. Ed looked at Rosemary. “Well, you know I don’t feel a darn thing, but Rosemary is sure keyed up.” He looked around at all of them. “Question is, what do we do about it? Do we change course? Or do we keep on as we’ve been, and just stay ready?”
They were all silent for a while, each thinking their own thoughts. Then Jack made the call. It was something he would always remember – that he’d been the one to make the call, sending them all forward into something they had all seen coming. “Okay, we don’t even know why we’re feeling uneasy. It could be a lot of things, but here’s what I know for sure: If we stop every time we get nervous, we’ll never get there. I say we push through.”
Ed nodded. A moment later, Owen nodded, too, though more reluctantly. Piper looked troubled. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it and headed for her bike. “Let’s get going, then.”
They didn’t even make it another mile down the road. As they were approaching a sprawling farm property on the south side of the road, they saw, just ahead, a trio of pickup trucks pull across the road, completely blocking it. Six armed men got out of the pickups as they approached and stood, not yet aiming their weapons, but clearly ready to. Piper looked over her shoulder at Jack as they slowed.
“Turn around,” she yelled over the noise of the bikes. “We need to turn around!” Then her eyes locked on something behind him. “Fuck!”
Jack’s head snapped around. A similar trio of trucks now blocked their retreat. He and Piper braked, Ed and Owen pulling in tight behind them. Jack scrutinized the open farmland to the north and south. “We don’t need roads.” He started to swing to the north. “Let’s –”
“Jack, stop.” Owen nodded at the deep drainage ditches on either side of the road; they were spiked with everything from farm tools to hefty sharpened sticks. “Looks like we’re going to have to talk our way out.”
Jack ran his eyes thoroughly over the ditches, looking for a gap, and once again looked behind them. Then, he looked ahead and smiled grimly. “Good thing one of us is such a smooth talker.”
He looked at each of them in turn, nodding his encouragement. When he met Piper’s gaze, there was something hectic in her eyes. “What?”
“Their bond lines,” she said hoarsely. “They’re all red, every single one of them, and they converge on a point just to the northeast of this group.” She nodded her head towards the pickups to the east, and Jack saw that her whole body was shaking. “They’ve got a Brody back there somewhere, running the show.”
Jack reached to cup her pale cheek in his palm, pitching his voice to wrap comfort and strength around her. “Then you’ll know just how to handle him, won’t you?”
She clung to him for a moment with her eyes. Then her spine drew up straight and tall, and she unslung her rifle. She tucked it against her body, under her arm. Her ferocious smile sizzled along his already humming nerves. His Valkyrie. “If it comes to it, hit the dirt when I say.” She looked around at all of them. “I won’t shoot to kill unless there’s no other way. Please don’t ask me to explain right now. I can still scare the shit out of them, and that may be enough.”
Ed reached to rest his hand on her shoulder. “We’re all in this with you, honey. It’s not just on you. Besides, Jack here is going to hocus-pocus us right on through.”
“That’s right.” Jack revved his bike and started rolling forward. “Let’s get this over with. I want bacon for dinner.”
They rode forward slowly, then stopped about 50 feet from the eastern pickups. Owen angled his bike to watch behind them, while Piper and Ed shifted to the north and south. Jack called out over the noise of the idling bikes.
“If there’s a toll, we can trade for safe passage.”
“Not interested in trading. We take what we need.” One of the men stepped forward, a man who might have been handsome if not for the aggression twisting his features. He wore a battered Oakland Raiders baseball cap pulled low on his forehead, but his eyes glittered with excitement underneath. He was enjoying this, Jack realized. The Raider spoke over his shoulder, “Get the kid up here.”
Another man stepped over to one of the pickups and reached into the bed. He hauled up a little boy maybe 8 or 9 years old, lifting him out and setting him on the ground. When he gave the boy a shake, Jack heard both Rosemary and Piper snarl, low and angry.
“Tell us, and be quick about it.”
Even from this distance, Jack could see the boy’s eyes, and he knew he would never forget them. Wide and round, blue as a Rocky Mountain summer sky and just as endless. The boy gazed at each of them in turn. When his eyes rested on Jack, every hair on Jack’s body stood on end. The sensation was strangely pleasant, in spite of the tension of the situation. Finally, the boy pointed right at him.
“Him,” the boy said in a resonant, musical voice. “He’s the most dangerous. The man in front. Don’t let him talk.” Then, he pointed at Owen. “The big man sees, and has for a long time.” His little arm moved again. “She’s tapped into the grid. She sees, too, but in a different way.” Then he hesitated, and his little face fell into sad lines. He tried to pull away, but the man shook him again.
“Finish! What about the last man?”
The boy shook his head, staring down at the ground, and muttered something. The man laughed, not pleasantly, and looked up at the others. “Nothing, he says.”
The Raider pointed at Ed. “You. Get on out of here. We don’t take Squibs, and we sure as hell don’t take animals we can’t eat.” He gestured back the way they’d come and smiled a completely unconvincing smile. “Go on, you’re free to go. If you leave quietly, no harm will come to you.”
“He’s lying,” Jack said in a low voice, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Piper nodding her agreement. “I think I’ve got this. Let me try.” He turned back to the man. “Look, you need to –”
As one, all six men snapped their weapons to the ready, pointing them straight at Jack.
“Shut up!” The leader shouted. “Shut your fucking mouth now, and don’t you say another word, or every last one of you will die in the dirt where you stand!”
Jack stopped talking and held his hands up, nodding his acquiescence. Behind him, he heard Owen speak low to Ed. “Listen to me, Ed. You need to get to Onawa. Get back there and wait for us – we’ll come back for you. I saw it, when I saw Decatur burning, in my vision.”
“I’m not leaving you,” Ed said grimly.
Jack looked at Piper. She nodded and looked at Ed, reaching to clutch his hand. “Owen’s right. If they wanted us dead, we’d be dead already. They want something else. You can’t help us if they shoot you. Take Rosemary and go. Go!”
She looked back at the Raider. “We’ll cooperate, but only if you let Ed go safely, like you promised.”
The man smiled an oily smile at her down the barrel of his rifle. “Sure thing, sweetheart.” He gestured with his rifle at Ed. “Go.”
Ed’s face was rigid when he turned his motorcycle around, and Rosemary was crying, a low, sobbing sound. Ed looked at each of them in turn. “I’ll get you help,” he vowed. “No matter what, I’ll find a way. Don’t lose heart.” Then he looked at Piper, and tears started into his eyes. “Especially you, honey. No matter what happens, you’ll be okay. I’ll get help.”
He rode towards the western pickups, picking up speed when they parted to let him through. When he had passed, the Raider let out a shrill whistle. One of the men in the western group lifted his rifle to his shoulder and sighted in on Ed’s retreating figure.
It happened so fast, Jack could hardly process it. Piper’s rifle snapped to her shoulder. She shot once, and the man aiming at Ed yelled and dropped his weapon. Piper pirouetted like a dancer, the move eerily graceful, and sighted in between the Raider’s eyes. “Next one kills you,” she said in a clear, carrying voice. “Call them off, or you’re done.”
They stayed frozen like that for the longest heartbeats of Jack’s life. Behind them, the man Piper had shot at yelled to the leader. “Fuck it, Reggie! Kid called that one wrong – she split my god-damned stock and destroyed the firing mechanism! Either that was damn lucky, or she’s a hell of a shot.”
“Stand down. Let him go.” The Raider had shifted his weapon to Piper, and they stared each other down over steel barrels. Slowly, he smiled. “I am really looking forward to hearing you apologize for this, sweetheart.” He nodded. “Oh, yeah, you will apologize. You will beg for forgiveness before we’re done.”
The lust that darkened his face made violence boil and roll in Jack’s gut. He clenched his hands into fists, and his mind raced for words he could say fast enough, words with enough power to stop the men before they could gun him and his companions down. Before he could come up with anything, Piper made a hissing sound.
“Jack, their Brody is headed this way. The bond-lines are shifting.” Her voice hardened. “When he comes into view, I’m going to take him out. Then I’ll wound as many as I can. We want them to panic. When they do, we ride like hell after Ed. Unless one of you can come up with an alternative plan really, really fast.”
Her plan was suicidal – there was no way he could let her risk it. He tilted his head and spoke as quickly as he could out of the corner of his mouth. “Piper, no, we will get out of this without –”
A rifle cracked the air, and a split second later, a hot buzz stung Jack’s right ear. His head snapped around, and the Raider called out. “That is the last warning you’ll get! Now shut up!” He smirked at Piper. “Some of us can shoot too, sweetheart.”
A commotion behind the pickups sent sudden tension bristling through Piper. Jack felt it as if it were his own body. He turned his head again so he could see her, while a trickle of what must have been blood slid down the right side of his neck.
“He’s here,” she said. Her voice had gone stone cold, and her eyes were dead and flat. “I’m taking the shot. Get ready to…” Her voice trailed away. “What the hell? It can’t be.” Her voice wobbled wildly. “Jack, it’s a kid. It’s just a kid.”
Jack turned his head as much as he dared, and saw her narrowed eyes frantically searching. “This can’t be right,” she muttered. “It can’t be him. It’s not possible.”
Jack looked back at the men. There was, indeed, a kid standing among them now, a beautiful boy, brand new to adolescence. He had a shock of white-blonde hair that was badly in need of a trim, and it stood out around his head like a halo. Only when his eyes met Jack’s did Jack understand how very wrong that image was.
The boy was camouflaged under layer after layer after layer of deception. A glowing angel on the surface, underneath seethed every dark emotion Jack could name: Bitterness, rage, disappointment, jealousy, and at the very base, a bottomless pit of fear.
This child could kill them. He had killed before, and he was developing a taste for it.
They had to get out of here. Jack flicked a hand to signal Piper and sucked in a lungful of air through his nose. He opened his mouth, and the voice that left him sounded like thunder, booming with power.
“Drop your –”
A rifle cracked again, and a sledgehammer blow to Jack’s right temple spun him around and sent him plunging to the ground. His face bounced on the tarmac, but curiously, it didn’t hurt. Nothing hurt. He blinked. Then, he heard Piper scream, a rising crescendo of grief.
“Jack! No!”
She dropped her rifle with a clatter and scrambled towards him on her hands and knees. Her hands were shaking so violently, they looked like birds’ wings fluttering. Jack blinked again, and tried to speak, to comfort her. But he couldn’t move his lips. He was so tired, suddenly, so very sleepy. Piper brought her face close to his just before he shut his eyes, and his last conscious thought was, “Such pretty eyes.”
Then, there was nothing.