What an idiot! But ever so easy to manipulate. Trent rocked back on his heels. “They have the guns, trucks and supplies.”
“The taxpayers paid for all of it,” Ernest chimed in. “We have just as much a right to it as the soldiers.”
Turner’s white teeth gleamed in the firelight. “We might have to take what’s ours.”
The neutrals simmered into a grumble.
Gary shrugged. “There’s a lot more of us than them. Even with their guns they have to sleep sometime.”
Gravel crunched.
The last truckload of survivors had made it to buildings. Would there be any more soldiers? He could use their strength and liked that they’d already been broken, but too many of them had poorly chosen loyalties.
“So we ditch the soldiers and keep the rest?” He needed more civilians, more people to do the little things.
“I won’t be party to killing anyone.” Both Alabama brothers spoke at the same time.
Spineless losers. Trent controlled his irritation. It was better this way. He could teach them the correct way, his way, to do things. “No one said anything about killing.”
“Right.” Turner shrugged. “We just leave them behind with the sick. You know, weed out the undesirables.”
Gary tossed his weight from foot to foot.
In the old world, the man might have been undesirable. In this one, Trent could use him.
“Henry Dobbins, you old fool!” A woman shrieked. “Let the soldiers push you up the hill. I didn’t come all this way to watch you die from a heart attack.”
Fear formed a block of ice in Trent’s gut. If Henry Dobbins was here the woman must be his wife, Mildred. His hands fisted. Damn, those busybodies would ruin his plans just like they had his marriage. He couldn’t let that happen, not now.
This was his time to lead.
He had to eliminate them before they saw him, before they told his followers that he was an insurance salesman. If they found out he wasn’t a preacher, he might lose their loyalty. That could not happen.
Not when he was so close to achieving all he deserved.
“Let’s walk a little, stretch our legs.” He gestured down the road, away from Henry Dobbins and his meddling wife. Why had God let such worthless creatures survive? The old and feeble should have been the first ones killed. Thankfully, many of his men believed the same.
They would help him and they didn’t know it.
Shunning the warmth of the fire, Trent led them into the night. Across the river, lights twinkled off and on, like the fireflies he’d caught as a child and kept in a jar until they died.
Good times.
“God, why didn’t He get rid of the screeching old bats?” Benedict folded his arms across his massive chest.
Gary nodded, but the brothers stared at the ground. The fools thought they had to protect women. That would change once they got a taste of what true power could offer and he would show it to them.
Tucking the Bible under his arm, he rubbed his hands together. “Gentlemen, I think it is time we decided how we’re going to take back our freedom.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Wake-up, Princess.” Eddie’s words accompanied a pinching and wiggling of her big toe.
Audra jerked it free but her sock stayed behind. Cold air washed over her arch as she curled up on the bus seat. Goodness, it felt like she’d just nodded off. Grit scratched her eyes as she blinked herself awake.
“You should let her sleep.” Stuart straightened in the seat behind Eddie. “She’s done a lot today and needs to rest.”
Eddie sat up in the driver’s seat then draped her stolen sock across his muscular thigh. His gas mask dangled from his tattooed neck. “She’s our leader. I’m sure she’ll want to be awake to hand us over to the soldiers.”
“Soldiers.” Clawing at the seat, she pulled herself up. Her heart raced. She definitely wanted to be awake at the moment of her liberation. “Where are they?”
She pressed her nose against the glass, cold quickly leached the warmth from her skin. Night crowded the windows and rain drummed on the metal roof. Thunder rolled overhead followed quickly by lightning hurling golden forks at the darkness. Joints popped and muscles ached. She checked her wristwatch. Good heavens, they’d been on the road for nearly twenty-four hours.
“We’re not there yet.” Stuart tore off a piece of bread, squished it into a ball between his index finger and thumb then tossed it in his mouth. An empty hamburger bun sleeve fluttered on the floor.
Her stomach growled. Damn it. That was her bread. She swiped at the drool pooling in the corners of her mouth. The first time in nearly half a year that real bread was within her reach and someone stole it while she slept. And he’d no doubt eaten the other bag as well. Forget manners, next time she found bread, she’d stuff her face until a button popped off her pants.
“But I thought…” Her waistband cut into her stomach when she leaned forward. A jacket rolled down her chest. She detected the faint scent of sweat, rain and Old Spice. Eddie. She caught the brown leather before it touched the floor and hung it on her bent knees.
“Relax, Princess.” Dangling her sock from his middle finger, he angled his arm back toward her. “We’re almost there.”
She swiped the sock up and stuffed her foot inside. No doubt he waneted to make fun of the pink monkeys on the white striped fabric. “We’ve been almost there since lunchtime.”
And they’d used all the fuel they’d gathered at Burgers in a Basket. Soon they’d be burning their reserves. The soldiers had better be there.
The Hawaiian dancer tattoo danced on Eddie’s bicep. “Don’t blame me. Prince Charming here is the one who gave us the directions.”
Stuart chomped on the last bit of bread. “The name is Stuart.”
Two syllables. Emphasis on both. Eddie must have been working his magic on the newcomer. Not that the bread thief didn’t deserve it. She sincerely hoped the man got a belly ache. “Gentlemen.”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Stuie.” Eddie’s lips twitched. “Princess Audra will protect you.”
She closed her eyes. One. Two. Stuart may deserve it but she’d done nothing to warrant the migraine that accompanied the soundtrack. Five. Opening her eyes, she looked out the windshield. Water slid in sheets down the glass, parting here and there on bug bodies, then joining up again.
The bus’s headlamps shot cones of light across a muddy road. On the right, white capped black water ran through a deep ditch. “Where are we?”
“Following the canal.” Turning his head, Eddie winked at her then concentrated once more on the road. “Someone who’s actually been to the Polytech Campus said that this canal will take us right by the school.”
Licking his finger, Stuart blotted up the crumbs on his jacket. “I never said I’d actually been to the campus.”
He’d never said he hadn’t either. Ergo their nine mile trip had instead serpentined over half the east valley when they followed his directions. The soldiers had better not have left.
Stuart leaned down and scooped up the empty bag. Brown and white crumbs slid along the crease on the bottom. Tossing back his head, he funneled them into his mouth.
The nerve of some people. She stomped into her boots. Her heels thudded hollowly along the bus floor. “Have you even been to Mesa?”
Behind her, people yawned and muttered.
“Sure.” Stuart licked the residue off his lips. “There’s a couple of really good restaurants here—spicy Italian, mouth watering Thai…” he snapped his fingers, “and once I went to a concert at the performing arts center in downtown Mesa.”
Her stomach growled. Did he have to mention food? Besides, he’d probably used a GPS system to guide him. They hadn’t been so lucky and it had cost them time and fuel. “You led me to believe that you were familiar with the area.”