His breath fogged the bag as he blew into it. The plastic puffed up; he clamped the opening closed. “I used to drive the Santan freeway everyday on my way to Scottsdale when the Redaction hit. I’d seen the signs for the school. I didn’t think it would be that hard to find.”
Her fingers curled into fists. “The roads had been clogged with broken down cars and decomposing bodies.” She wouldn’t have asked the bread-stealing twit how to get to the campus otherwise. “You said you knew another route.”
“I did.” Stuart twisted the opening, holding it in one hand. He sidled closer to the edge of his seat. “It wasn’t my fault that way was blocked too.”
Audra blinked. He wouldn’t. It was too juvenile to consider.
Stuart clapped his hands together. Caught in the middle, the bag exploded with a pop. It echoed like a shot around the metal interior.
A baby’s wail rose on the ringing silence.
“Son of a bitch!” Eddie half rose from the driver’s seat; his fist punched the space behind him, missing Stuart’s arm by inches. He swung again.
Chuckling, Stuart waved the flaccid bag, brushing Eddie’s fingers.
Someone moaned; others peppered the air with one word questions.
The bus veered toward the canal.
She leaped from her seat. “Eddie, please!”
His jacket rolled down her legs, tangled with her feet. Pitching forward, she slammed against the pole. The impact of metal against her temple rattled her. Bile rose in her mouth, coating her tongue with bitterness.
Eddie maneuvered the vehicle into the center of the dirt road while steadying her with a hand on her hip. “Control your pet, Princess.”
With a shake of her head, she turned her attention to Stuart. The world tilted slightly when she released the pole and held out her hand. “Give. Me. That. Bag.”
Stuart’s thin lips bloated in a pout but he slapped her open palm with the plastic. “You don’t know what he’s been like these last few hours.”
“I’m a light sleeper.” Besides, she’d practically lived with the man for the last six months. An elementary school auditorium wasn’t very big when you crammed a hundred people into it. Wadding up the plastic, she tucked it into her jeans pocket. “Now, either behave or you’ll have to go to the back of the bus.”
With the slops pot.
Sliding back in his seat until he hit the side of the bus, Stuart crossed his arms. “It was just a bit of fun.”
Good Lord, she had students who knew better. “We’re on a dirt road running next to a canal. I don’t particularly want to go swimming in the dark, do you?”
“Geez, Eddie’s right, you are uptight.”
Heat flared in her cheeks. Guess, she’d slept a little more soundly than she thought if she missed them talking about her. Raking Eddie’s jacket off the floor, she folded it in half then slapped his arm with it. “Thanks for the use of your coat.”
The metal button on the cuff thudded against his wrist bone. “Ouch!” He pushed the jacket back at her. “Keep it. It’s getting cold out.”
Her fingers dug into the fleece collar. “I’ll be fine.”
“Then set it on the seat next to you.” In the rearview mirror, Eddie’s brown eyes locked with hers. “And I never said you were uptight. I said you need to relax and unwind.”
Folding the coat, she sank onto her seat. The cushion sighed as it adjusted to her weight. “That’s hardly much better.”
Eddie shrugged. “Despite Stuie’s behavior, we are a little more mature than twelve-year-olds. Delegate a little.”
“I can help you with that.” Stuart smoothed his jacket. “I have an MBA and two years of management experience.”
What was she, Human Resources?
“Two whole years, huh?” A muscle flexed in Eddie’s jaw. “Wow, I didn’t think you were that old.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. They weren’t much more mature than twelve. “Soon, it won’t matter. We’ll be with the soldiers.”
And they’ll be giving orders.
They’ll be responsible for everyone.
And she would be free to relax.
Eddie rolled his shoulders. “And speaking of soldiers, I think that is their camp on the left side.”
Scooting to the edge of her seat, she tucked the jacket in her lap and leaned forward. Beyond the shine of the headlamps, she couldn’t see anything but darkness. “Where?”
Fabric rustled between a few coughs. Those on the right side, knelt on their seats to peer through the left bank of windows.
“Wait for the lightning.” Eddie slowed the bus. “You’ll see it then.”
Audra’s stomach cramped. The camp wasn’t ablaze with lights? Sure, the electricity was out, but the military had plenty of fuel to keep the generators running. Setting his coat on the seat, she pushed to her feet. Her sweat-slicked palm squeaked on the metal pole when she grabbed it. Bracing her feet apart, she stood next to Eddie.
“You don’t think they’ve left, do you?” She pitched her voice low so as not to be overheard above the engine’s growl but didn’t take her eyes off the view. If this was the soldier’s camp, she didn’t want to miss the first opportunity to see it.
Eddie twisted his hand on the steering wheel. “We are a bit late getting here.”
And they hadn’t known they were coming. In Tucson, the soldiers had just said to prepare to evacuate the city. They’d left for Phoenix within two hours, hoping to beat the rush. Maybe if they’d have listened to the message they would have known all the cities were being abandoned.
Maybe she wouldn’t have wasted their precious fuel driving to the Valley.
Eddie skimmed a knuckle down her forearm. “It’s not so bad, is it? Being stuck with us for a while longer?”
Guilt itched like a thousand ants along her skin. Her needing to be alone was a bit selfish. Especially since following her had cost Eddie’s brother his life. She squeezed his shoulder. And he’d never once blamed her for the execution. “Some of you aren’t so bad.”
Tilting his head back, he winked at her. “‘Bout killed you to admit it, didn’t it?”
“Hush now, and drive.”
Stuart huffed. “I don’t see the camp. Perhaps you’re lost.”
Muscles bunched under her palm. Eddie stopped the bus. “Then so is the sign.”
Headlamps spotlighted a large green street sign. Someone had spelled camp under the Williams Field Road. Black water shimmered over the cracked asphalt road. Well, shoot. The camp was dark. But that didn’t mean it was deserted. They could be out of fuel or sleeping.
Please, God, just don’t let it be deserted.
“Brace yourself, Princess.” He slapped on the left hand blinker. As he cranked the wheel, the bus coasted forward.
Gravel sprayed the wheel wells as they shifted onto the pavement.
“Alright everyone,” she leaned against the pole and into the turn, “please take your seats. If you have your ration books or any identification, please have them ready. For those who’ve been with us since Tucson, don’t worry. We have everything you need.”
They drifted through the chain link fence. A big white sign with a black arrow pointed the way to the checkpoint.
So far, so good. Another turn and they faced the direction they’d just come from. The bus’s headlights swept over the craggy peaks of tents. Lightning rippled along the clouds, illuminating the camp. Wind toyed with untied flaps. Water pooled on bowed white tables. Run-off sucked at the tires of vehicles perched half on the road and half in a ditch. Glowing eyes tracked their progress. Rat tails slithered through piles of garbage. Rain rippled through the puddles in chaos.
A coyote loped across the road and ducked through an open wooden door into a large tent.