“What’s wrong with you?”
“Huh?”
“Something’s bothering you. What is it?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Bullshit.”
There was a rustle of fabric as he turned his head. “I’m fine.”
“Mike …”
“All right already. You want to know what’s on my mind? I’ll tell you.” He leaned close so he was right next to my ear. “Did you sleep with my daughter, Caleb?”
My face turned to ice. “Um …”
“Well?”
“I wouldn’t put it in those terms, exactly.”
“You did, didn’t you?”
“Mike, it wasn’t like that.” I met his gaze, and what I saw there made me want to back away slowly and avoid sudden movements. It hurt to see it; Mike was almost as much a father to me as my real one. I blurted out, “I love her, Mike.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Caleb, you’re only eighteen. You don’t know what love is.”
“Look, maybe I haven’t been around the block like you have, but I know how I feel. You talk about what’s between me and Sophia like it’s some sordid, tawdry thing. It’s not. We care about each other. I’ve had feelings for her for a long time, and she told me she feels the same way. We just never said anything to each other about it.”
Mike looked at me again, much of the hardness gone from his gaze. “Do you really care about her, Caleb? You’re not just taking advantage of her?”
“What? No, Mike. I would never do that. You know that.”
“She’s been under a lot of stress lately. Stress can make a girl vulnerable, make her do things she normally wouldn’t.”
“I told you, Mike. I would never do that to her, or any other girl for that matter.”
He sighed and turned his face back down the hill. “Sorry, son. I didn’t mean to … listen you have to understand what it’s been like for me all these years. Guys have been coming after Sophia since she was eleven years old. Fuckin’ hordes of them. All this time, it was all I could do to keep her from ending up like my mom, barefoot and pregnant by the time she was sixteen. I don’t want that to happen to Sophia.”
“You don’t think she’s smart enough to avoid that?”
“I think she’s a kid,” Mike said. “I think she’s made some bad decisions along the way. The partying, the drugs, the crowd she hangs out with … well, used to hang out with, anyway. For a while there, I thought I was gonna lose her.”
“But you didn’t, Mike. She did some crazy teenager shit like most teenagers do, and she got over it.”
“You didn’t.”
“Didn’t what?”
“Do a bunch of crazy teenager shit.”
I gave a small shrug. “I’m not like most teenagers.”
Mike stared at me. “Yeah. I guess not.” He grabbed the field glasses and peered down the hill again, sweeping slowly from left to right. I lay next to him, chin on my hands, thinking about Sophia. Enough time passed I thought he had dropped the subject, so when he spoke, it startled me.
“I guess if there’s any guy I would want her to end up with,” he said. “It’d be you, Caleb. Just make sure you take good care of her.”
I looked at him, surprised. I had to swallow a few times before I could speak. “Thanks, Mike. That means a lot to me.”
He grunted and continued staring down the hill.
Nothing much happened in the settlement below as the sun stretched the shadows into afternoon. I was beginning to consider suggesting we head back and get the others when I heard the sound of a car approaching.
“Hand me the eyes,” Mike said. He had given me the field glasses so he could take a rest. I passed them back.
We watched a car pull up to the compound: a GMC pickup, loaded with supplies, two people seated in the cab. It stopped in front of a low-rider Cadillac that served as the settlement’s main gate. Two men climbed over the Caddy and approached the truck. A brief conversation followed, ending when one of the people in the truck handed something to a gate guard. The guard then ran into the main enclosure, disappeared into an RV, and came back out with a small box in his hands. After handing the box to the man in the truck, there was a quick round of conversation—thank-you-and-goodbye by the look of it—and the truck was off.
“Huh,” Mike said.
“Yeah.”
“Looked friendly enough.”
“Sure did. I’m thinking I might have an idea.”
The big Marine glanced at me warily. “Caleb …”
“What? These people might be able to help us. And I’m a lot less scary looking than you. Besides, if anything goes wrong, you’ll be up here on overwatch.”
He thought it over. “All right. But approach from the road. If things turn bad, signal me by scratching your right ear with your left hand. Got it?”
“Right ear, left hand. Got it.”
*****
I let them see me coming a long way off.
After backing down from the shallow hillside, I circled around in defilade and emerged at the base of another hill onto Highway 281. The lookouts at the settlement didn’t see me until I topped the rise and skylined myself.
I could see them in the distance, eyes peering through binoculars, rifles hung over their shoulders, faint echoes reaching me as they called to one another. Their posture seemed neither aggressive nor overly relaxed. They wanted to make it clear they were aware of my approach, but had no plans to get in my way.
I stopped in front of the Cadillac—a purple one, lots of after-market modifications, barely four inches off the ground—and waved at a guard standing atop an RV.
“Hello.”
The man nodded in my direction. He was a little shorter than me, heavyset, late thirties, big bushy moustache. He said, “Howdy.”
“Don’t suppose you have any water in there, do you?”
“Depends. What you got to trade?”
“What are you looking for?”
He reached in his back pocket and pulled out a list. As he did, a light wind kicked up, sending streamers of ash across the soot-stained parking lot. “Got any feminine hygiene products?”
“Um, no.”
“Antibiotics?”
“Sorry.”
“Pain medicine?”
“Afraid not.”
“Toilet paper?”
“No.”
“Booze?”
I chuckled at that one. “No.”
He stuffed the list back in his pocket. “Well, I guess that just leaves ammo.”
I patted the mag pouches on my vest. “I can spare some five-five-six and nine-mil.”
“How many rounds?”
“That depends. How much water are we talking about?”
One corner of the man’s mouth twitched upward. “You’re pretty sharp for a young fella.” He made a motion over the Caddy. “Come on in. Just hop right over the car there.”
As I obeyed, the guard turned and shouted to someone I couldn’t see. My feet hit the opposite side of the gate just in time to see several men and two women emerge from RVs, all carrying weapons. My hand tightened on the grip of my rifle, but I stayed relaxed, letting it dangle from its tactical sling. If things went south, after I signaled Mike, the rifle would be a distraction. While all eyes were focused on it, I would quick-draw my pistol and start gunning people down. At this range, the sidearm would be easier to bring to bear.
“What’s your name?” one of the men said. Tall, about my height, salt-and-pepper hair, mid to late forties, strong build, moved and spoke like a cop. By the way the others gravitated toward him, I figured him for the leader.
“Caleb Hicks,” I said, seeing no harm in giving my real name.
“Who are you with?” The man said, coming to a halt a few feet in front of me. His tone was not entirely hostile, just authoritarian, like he was accustomed to being answered when he posed a question, and being answered quickly.
“Me, myself, and I,” I said, looking around casually. “What is this place?”