She rested her hands on the counter and hung her head. “I won’t risk the little ones’ lives.”
There had to be a way. There… Manny raked the rest of the pods into the bucket. “The ATVs.”
Jumping to his feet, he swung up the bucket. It could work. It would work.
“ATVs?” Henry scratched his chin. “How many were there?”
Manny thought back to their afternoon shopping in part of the neighborhood. Only two of the homes had been completely empty; ten others had held the remains of an affluent lifestyle. He pulled out the maps from his pocket. “Five, at least. And I think there were a couple of dirt bikes, too.”
“Five would work. The Wilsons were great outdoor enthusiasts. Both girls used to compete on dirt bikes.” Henry scratched something on the paper. “But they’ll need gas.”
“We can double up on the seating. There’d be enough for the niños and Connie.” Manny set the bucket by the back door, before plopping down next to Henry. It would work. After all, how hard could driving an ATV be?
The old woman smiled. “Well then…” Connie rubbed her hands together. “I like the sound of that. Can you two slap together some type of trailer we could use to haul all our goodies?”
“I think that can be arranged.” Henry wrote the idea on his pad. “I’ll check the internet to see if there are any designs and how much the ATVs can pull.”
“What about bicycles? We don’t want to leave them behind if we can help it,” Manny offered. His chest swelled with hope. They could handle this together.
“We’ll need them if we run out of gas on the way.” Henry chewed on the eraser for a moment. “I think the Shepherds had a tandem bike, so Connie can still ride. We’ll get Mildred to steer.”
Manny glanced at Henry’s shriveled legs. The pressure in his chest returned. What were they going to do about him?
The old man caught his gaze. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve got an hand-pedal job from when I competed.”
Connie picked her way to the coffee table. Sweeping her hand back and forth, she found the bowl of shelled peas. “Check the Banks’s house, they used to hunt quite a bit, and I think they took their ATV’s deep into the mountains. It always sounded to me like there was a trailer attached.”
Manny quickly returned to the seating area to grab his own bowl. Geez, what was wrong with him? He should have cleaned up after himself.
“Good idea.” Henry jotted down words in his twisted script. “They might also have a few guns and ammunition. You know how to use one?”
“No.” Manny’s mouth dried. Guns. He’d never shot one before. Could he? He stuffed his shaking hands in his pockets. Stash’s broken body surfaced from his memory. “But I will if I need to protect everyone.”
“We’ll see if they have a rifle with a scope.” Henry bent over his pad. “That way you can use it at a distance and won’t have to get blood and guts over you.”
“Henry!” Mildred stepped into the small hallway that separated the two living areas. After untying her apron, she lifted it over her head. “I go away for a couple of minutes and you’re talking blood and guts.”
Manny set his bowl next to Connie’s on the kitchen island. “At close quarters, I could probably use it as a club.”
He could swing a bat with deadly accuracy.
Henry nodded but didn’t look up.
“I think this calls for a spot of tea.” Connie left her bowl then felt her way to the kettle on the kitchen burner. “Is everyone settled?”
Mildred shuffled into the kitchen. “Irina is sleeping with the girls. Poor things. I sure wish I knew what happened to make them so skittish.”
Having your parents die on you could do that. Manny combined his peas with Connie’s. Then again, maybe he hadn’t been the only one to come into the neighborhood. The Aspero certainly considered this area their territory. He clamped his lips together. The others didn’t need to hear that. “Tomorrow, we could finish the houses and start relocating the items we need to here.”
“It’s better than leaving them for someone else to grab.” Henry set his pen down. “Do you think little Jose and Lucia could drive an ATV? I’d feel better if we had extras in case we encounter difficulties.”
After sticking the peas in the fridge, Mildred ran her apron over the clean countertop. “So we’re leaving then? Not waiting for the soldiers?”
Henry wheeled over to his wife’s side and grasped her hand. “We may not have a choice.”
Connie raised the lid of the teapot and held it under the water dispenser. “At least we know where to go. Others won’t be as fortunate.”
“We could tell those we encounter.” With a sigh, Manny collapsed onto the dining room chair. Another home lost. Another perilous journey ahead. Sure, he wasn’t alone but that didn’t mean safety waited at the end.
Henry kissed Mildred’s hand. “You two might want to make spare masks for everyone. It’s going to take us a while to get there.”
Metal scraped ceramic as Connie set the kettle on the cooktop. “One thing for sure, we won’t want to travel the main routes. The predators will be waiting for us.”
Manny clasped his head in his hands. “I just hope the soldiers don’t up and leave before we get there.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Day Four
Trent stared at the drop ceiling of the communal sleeping area. A coffee-colored water stain spread in concentric circles across the white tile. Tucking the saggy pillow under his head, he listened to the coughing and high-pitched whistling as the others labored to breathe. The sound was almost as annoying as the stench. He breathed through his mouth then gagged at the taste of unwashed bodies and… Was that shit?
Fucking losers.
What time was it anyway? Raising his arm, he checked his watch. In the soft light, he made out the pale patch of skin. His body twitched. In addition to car-jacking his Jag, the bitch had stolen his shoes and his watch. He pounded his fists against the cot.
Damn, he wished the gangbanger hadn’t driven his car at the Marines. He would have loved to get his hands on her. Punish her for the indignities he was suffering. Growling, he sat up and perched on the side of the cot. The wooden frame creaked under his weight.
When were the stupid ass cops supposed to get here anyway? Hadn’t the little cock-tease Goth Lolita said first thing in the morning? He glanced over the sleeping unwashed at the clock hanging high on the pocked dry wall. Eight-thirty? Fucking pigs. Sucking off the public tit. Yet when the public demanded their attention, the asswipes couldn’t even be bothered to show up.
Shoving off the cot, he pushed to his feet. The tape holding the bandage on his thigh jerked at his body hair. He winced and sucked air through his teeth. The bitch had better have suffered before the flames engulfed her. His hands traveled down borrowed clothes. Off the rack crap. God, he hoped no one in his neighborhood saw him when the lazy cops dropped him off at his Scottsdale home. The soft denim jeans and flannel shirt gave off a pathetic whiff of soap before being subsumed by the rampant body odor.
A soft mewl had him pivoting about.
Tattoo leaned over someone. His muscular bulk shifted and twisted. Thin arms reached after his closed hand. “You don’t need it anymore.” The big man’s voice was low and gritty.
Interesting. Trent stepped into his shoes. His heels burned where the stiff leather rubbed against his blisters. But really, where was the challenge in stealing off these losers? It wasn’t as if they had anything he’d want. As it was, he’d have to scrub for hours to get the stench off him.