“Writer’s block?”
“It’s more like leadership block. I have no idea what I’m supposed to say.”
“Want some help?”
Summer nodded, hoping that Krista would offer. “If you don’t mind.”
“Absolutely,” Krista said, grabbing one of the extra chairs in the office and pulling it around the desk.
Summer snapped her fingers at Sergeant Barkley, then pointed at the corner.
The dog followed her command and moved out of the way, lying in the spot she’d indicated.
Krista sat down and scooted in next to Summer, putting Morse’s notebook on the desk next to the stand-up picture frame.
Summer’s eyes went to the photo of June as well. She scoffed after a flood of new feelings entered her body. Even though they came out of nowhere, they felt as though they’d been there the whole time. “What do you think Stuart and June would think right about now?”
“About us sitting here? Working together?”
“Yep.”
“Oh, that’s easy. They’d both say it’s about fucking time.”
Summer paused, letting the phrase Krista had used sink in. Her mind went back in time, seeing June standing next to her, showing her how to make one of her homemade trinkets. “I really can’t imagine June would ever cuss. Or Stuart, either.”
“Yeah, probably not, but then again, who knows? There are times when you need to really make a point.”
Summer nodded. “Fuck yeah.”
CHAPTER 26
Dice pulled the truck to the side of the mountain road and put the vehicle into park. He depressed the parking brake to keep the vehicle stationary on the steep grade, hearing at least a dozen clicks as the mechanism engaged.
The cliff to the right was imposing, but unless the majority of the embankment gave way in the next half-hour, he figured the spot he’d picked was safe.
He nodded in silence at Sketch sitting across from him in the passenger seat, before knocking on the back wall of the cab, using three raps. “All right boys, this is it.”
Sketch put his pad of paper down on the seat, giving Dice a view of the artwork he’d been doodling. It was a head and shoulders portrait of a young girl with unruly, jet-black hair and a petite nose. Her jawline had a touch of fierceness to it, as did her eyes, even though she looked thin overall.
He wouldn’t classify her as pretty, but she did have that girl next door look. Cute would have been one term that fit. Doable after a six-pack would have been another.
Dice let his eyes linger for another second, getting the sense that he knew her face, but he couldn’t place it. His friend was a terrific artist, but sometimes the man’s perception was off, almost as though Sketch had re-envisioned what the subject should have looked like, not as they appeared in the wild.
Sketch tucked the pencil under the edge of the pad, then swung his hand around to latch onto the door handle. They both opened their respective doors and got out of the truck, moving toward the rear of the vehicle.
The trees lining the mountainside seemed to be making a comeback, their leaves halfway into their sprout, offering a touch of greenery to the area. If he remembered correctly, Dice hadn’t been to this location in at least a year. A lot had changed since then, with the sun beginning to break through the endless winter skies.
He wondered if the majestic oaks had waited with purpose to start their bloom, needing to make sure the newfound sunshine was not a random event.
If he were a tree, that’s what he would have done. The last ten years hadn’t been kind, leaving all survivors to wonder if the budding signs of progress were permanent or simply a ruse, designed to torture those who witnessed them.
He knew as well as anyone that Mother Nature had a wicked sense of humor, more so since the string of volcanos down south had taken down the planet. He’d only heard bits and pieces about the backstory, leaving him to wonder if the apocalypse was actually manmade or not. It seemed like a stretch.
Then again, he’d been known to climb down the rabbit hole on occasion, chasing the latest government conspiracy. Of course, that was before The Event, usually after reading a controversial post on one of his favorite blogs.
Those articles were a welcome break from the nightly grind at the casino. Some might have thought the long line of chicks he’d banged were the diversion, but in truth, it was his reading that became the escape.
Dice met Sketch at the rear of the truck, taking a command position in front of the eight-member team of the new hunting party. The squad looked ready, their heads covered in helmets and chests carrying tactical rigs stuffed with extra mags.
“Okay, men. Today is the first day of training. Game is known to be in the area, but it’s limited. You’ll have to search high and low for it. It won’t be easy, but if you make it through this course, you’ll be part of our prestigious backup unit, filling in for the primary when they’re tasked to provide support for our new leader.”
Dice hesitated, taking a read on the men standing before him. Everyone appeared to be on the same page, their eyes attentive and focused. “To cover more ground, you’ll break into two teams of four. But check your sightlines, gentlemen. We don’t need any incidents of friendly fire today. We’re short-staffed enough as it is. Any questions?”
Nobody made a sound, each man looking alert and ready to peel out.
Dice motioned to the men on the right, who were already standing in a makeshift group, their rifles at the ready. “You four are Alpha Team. Take the east side.” He pointed at an outcrop of rock, maybe three hundred yards up the hill. The protrusion appeared to be made of blue granite, its size impressive. “Work your way around that ridge and meet us at the summit in two hours.”
“Roger that,” one of the men said, adjusting his rucksack by the straps.
Dice peered at the other four. “Beta Team, you take west. I want you to cover the area by the old mine, about half a click up. Then meet us at the rally point. Whichever team takes down the most kills will be deemed the champions of this exercise. Extra points will be awarded for head shots, so aim small, shoot small.”
Heads nodded and equipment rattled, but nobody said a word in response.
Dice continued. “Be sure to salt the meat after each kill. Each of you has a supply in your pack, so use it. We can’t afford to waste anything today. Understood?”
“Yes, boss,” another man said.
“All right, let’s get to it,” Dice said, standing firm as the teams broke into a sprint and began their hunt.
Sketch waited a full minute, then turned to Dice. “Two hours?”
“Didn’t want to raise any red flags.”
“I especially liked the part about extra points for head shots.”
“Yeah, just hit me right then.”
“Kind of hard to do with disabled firing pins,” Sketch said.
“Yeah, but they don’t know that.”
“Good thing.”
Dice agreed, his mind turning to another possibility. “Craven better come through before some rogue chipmunk decides to stick its head out.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about it. I doubt there’s any game up there.”
“If there is, we’re fucked,” Dice said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the tube of spray. He applied some on Sketch and then on himself, being sure to splash the repellent on both their fronts and backs. “This shit better still work.”
Sketch craned his neck and watched the teams climb the mountain. “I wonder where Craven set his ambush.”
Dice matched his friend’s gaze. “We’ll know soon. He was supposed to be in position a half hour ago.”
“Poor bastards.”
“They have no idea what’s coming,” Dice said.