Post-Apocalyptic Nomadic Warriors Part 13

"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 ma.s.sive 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 pa.s.senger 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 b.o.o.b?"

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.

But, after three hours on the road, sitting with the boys in the back, she was ready to jump out the door herself if she couldn't persuade them to go first.

Trent shrugged off the comment about his manners and went back to looking out the window. His eyes had been glued to the road whenever they weren't focused on her chest.

Alex leaned in and said something to his brother that she couldn't hear and turned to her.

"He'll try not to bother you. It's just that you're the first girl we've seen since our mom died."

Erica looked away. His staring had made her uncomfortable, but her lack of empathy embarra.s.sed her even more. The loss of her town, her family, had numbed her to the pain of others. There were few alive in the world that had not suffered loss. These boys may have suffered more than most. Not only had they lost their parents, they had been cut off from the world.

"Why didn't you boys ask for help?"

Alex turned out the window. Sadness crept into his voice. "We did."

"But, I'm sure that ..."

Alex snapped back, "They didn't. They told my dad that they couldn't feed five more."

It was Erica's turn to look away. Ashamed, she wondered who would have turned a family away from Vita Nova. Tears filled her eyes as it dawned on her that had the family been welcome at Vita Nova, the boys would not have lost their parents.

They rode in silence for the next few miles before she could pull herself away from the pa.s.sing scenery.

Austin, the youngest of the three bears, was looking at her. Even the bear costume was too big for him. He sat on the floor, his knees drawn to his chest. This forced the shoulders of the pelt higher. All she could see were the large brown eyes of the boy.

These eyes didn't shy from her gaze. They held steady, not sure what to make of the woman.

"Do you like dogs?" Erica tried to introduce a calm into her voice that she just didn't feel.

The young boy nodded and looked at Chewy.

"What's your favorite thing about dogs?"

"They're nice, and fun, and don't try to eat you."

Chewy sighed deep as the boy rubbed her chest.

"Did you have a dog? You know, before?"

Austin shook his head.

"Did you have any pets?"

The boy nodded.

"Fish."

Erica felt a sense of accomplishment. The boy had said little since getting on the coach. Trying to make amends for her earlier coldness, she smiled big and asked, "What were their names?"

The boy looked puzzled, "Why would you name a fish?"

Now, Erica was puzzled. "I guess so you can talk to it?"

"What are you going to tell a fish?"

The boy had asked a better question than she wanted to admit. "Swim?" was all she could think to say.

The boy looked back at the dog and began to scratch behind her ears. "Yeah, but they already do that."

"I don't know. I guess it's just fun to name your fish."

"You've got a weird way of having fun, lady."

Embarra.s.sment returned, she dropped the conversation and went back to staring out the window.

"Alex! Look!" Trent shot upright and started tapping the window. His older brother turned and followed his gaze.

"It's a McDonald's, Alex!" The grin on his face was caused by unmistakable glee.

Alex nodded and a smile crept across his face. "Look, Austin. Remember McDonald's?"

Austin did not respond; he stroked Chewy's head with long slow strokes that ended on her back. The dog's tail wagged on occasion, but deep sighs were the more obvious sign of her contentment.

Trent jumped from his seat and made his way to the cab holding the waistline of his borrowed pants to prevent them from falling. He worked against the rocking of the vehicle and stepped into the c.o.c.kpit.

"Mister. Hey, dude," he began to shout as he approached the driver seat. "We've got to pull over."

"What's wrong?" Jerry asked, a.s.suming the worst.

"Nothing, you just gotta pull over."

"Use the toilet in the back."

"I don't wanna pee. I wanna Happy Meal." He thrust his arm across Jerry's vision and pointed at the former fast food building.

Jerry ducked and weaved trying to see past the youth's arm. The coach responded by diving and weaving across the road.

"Move your arm, kid!"

The swaying of the coach became more violent as Jerry struggled to see the road. Alex and Erica were rocked from the benches. Trent was thrown across the driver's seat. Only Austin and Chewy remained unfazed.

Jerry slammed on the brakes-tossing everyone forward. "What is going on?" He pulled the boy back to his feet and jammed the s.h.i.+fter into park.

Trent ran to the back and burst through the door. Alex was close behind him, pausing only to tell Austin to "c'mon." The youngest boy sat still in his bear suit, petting the dog.

Jerry scrambled after them and ran into the closing door of the coach. He bounced off the door and lost his balance. Grabbing wildly, his hands found the curtains. The rod snapped under his weight. He fell to the floor of the cabin and the curtains settled slowly over his face. Enshrouded in the fabric, he sat up and felt to see if his nose was bleeding. Somehow the impact had not brought forth any blood. He was a little unbalanced when he stood and rushed out the door and he fought the curtains the entire way.

Austin looked at Erica, "Now that was fun."

Erica smiled back at the boy. "Yes. Yes, it was."

Jerry caught the two boys as they stood in silence in front of the McDonald's. The front of the building was intact, but the entire rear wall was a pile of rubble and rebar. Looking through the windows, they could see through to the barren landscape behind it.