Jenny observed Matt’s tentative handling of the Steyr rifle. His expression muted, he listened to every word Xavier shared. Jenny offered nothing. Didn’t need to. Xavier had it covered. If his loyalties still lie with us— If… Stop second guessing him. Grant’s right. It is Xavier. He’s with us again. I can’t keep blaming him for what happened. He didn’t really have a choice, right? Besides, with that training, he’s an asset—his story, his experience will help convince the Depot of what’s coming. He’s still one of us. You gotta quit doubting him.
“Oh, it’s just like… I see.” Matt chuckled, his face taking on a comfortable glow of familiarity which helped allay Jenny’s reservations upon seeing his initial contact with the rifle. “It’s really no different than the others I’ve used. Just never seen a rifle like this or a built-in scope like that.” He studied it for a few seconds. “Where do you adjust it?”
“Don’t think you can. Or, at least I wasn’t shown how. If you don’t like the scope, there are iron sights across the top there. Personally, I like it, but I’ve been training with it for awhile.”
“No, I’ll be fine.” Matt knelt. Lodging the rifle into his shoulder, he aimed it through the broken glass door, steadying it on something in the distance. “Pretty amazing.”
“It’s a pretty versatile rifle. My trainer—”
“What trainer?” Jenny asked.
“I’m in training to be a scout for the S.A.”
“You were in training,” Jenny mocked him.
“You know what I mean.”
“I know.” She smiled, and he returned the same.
“Glad you kiddos are gettin’ along now, but we need to get this show on the road. No tellin’ when the S.A.’s gonna catch up. They had to know we was comin’ here. Had to.” He looked to Jenny. “So, what you got for us, girlie?”
She’d never seen it before, but Grant sought something from her. Direction. Advice. Leadership. Finally, here it was, lining his eyes, and she felt it—being taken seriously—being treated as an equal. Not being a fighter, Grant saw in her what he never could be. Someone to lead the offensive. Someone to take back control of their fate. Doubt escaped her. She could do this.
Jenny took another cursory scan of the parking lot. Nothing different. “Let’s go, you guys.” She led Xavier, Grant, and Sherman to the manager’s office in the back. “Hang tight here, and we’ll be back soon.” Jenny handed Sherman’s lead to Grant and motioned for Matt to give up the pistol and leg holster he’d been carrying since their rescue.
Xavier looked it over. “This was Danny’s?”
Matt offered a solemn nod. “Be good to it.”
Matt and Jenny made their way back outside through the busted-out door, rifles drawn, scanning toward the back side of the restaurant. A sharp wind burst across their bodies. Matt started to raise his kerchief back up and over his mouth and nose. “Can’t,” Jenny said, “they have to recognize us from the roof.” She pulled her hair out from the back of her coat, letting it rest upon her shoulders. “We need to make it obvious that it’s us or this will never work.”
“I know… I just—” The zipper on his coat shook—his body already trembling from the wind. Jenny felt it too, although not to that point. “I swear I can feel icicles forming from the end of my nose it’s so damn cold.”
“You nervous?” she asked.
Matt broke eye contact, glancing toward the ground for a split second. His tell. How she knew when the next words would be a lie. Before he could offer the fib, she raised onto her toes and kissed him. Passionate. Deep. He pulled her in. The clack of their rifles, unnoticed. The wind stilled. The cold gone. Heat between them. They pulled away, both smiling with eyes wide.
“I lov—”
She put her gloved finger over his lips. “Don’t. That’s not good-bye just foreplay.” Jenny offered a coy smile.
“I do, though.” Matt wouldn’t break eye contact.
“I know you do.” She took a step toward the rear parking lot, but Matt grabbed hold of her rucksack.
“That’s it?” His lips bent into a disappointed frown. “All you’re going to say about it?”
“Do I really have to say the words?”
“It’d be nice.”
“You’re acting like this is the end, Matt. All we have to do is walk over, let them see us, and we’re in.”
“What if it’s not that easy…” His eyes read nervous.
“It will be that easy. At some point, shit has to turn around for us. Everything has happened for a reason. We can’t let it all be for nothing.” Slightly agitated, Jenny broke from the conversation, raised her rifle level—the muzzle leading her past the drive-through and into the back side of the McDonald’s parking lot.
They crouched behind a vehicle, and Jenny flipped the binoculars to her eyes. “We’ll have to take the approach wide.” Each rifle visible along the Depot’s roofline remained tilted toward whatever it was in the parking lot below them. “Going in at this angle will be too dangerous unless you’re seeing something I’m not.” Jenny handed the binoculars over to Matt to get him involved, to get his head right.
Expelling a deep breath, he glassed over the Depot. “I swear if it weren’t for all those damn trucks, we’d be able to tell who it was from here.” He took a moment before continuing, “You’re definitely right about a wide approach. We’ll probably need to take it from that side, maybe from over there.” Matt indicated the eastern half of the Depot’s parking lot, but then flashed the binoculars along the back side of the car wash and the strip mall to their immediate right, opposite the target area. “I think if we slide back that way, we should have the angle to see whoever’s standing out there.” He returned the binoculars. “What do you think?”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
They stole for the first car wash bay nearest them and past the remaining five, beating the snow into slush with the soles of their boots. Continuing in this manner, racing in and out of cover behind the strip mall, they finally emerged on the far side, slipping behind a row of yew bushes—barely a breath between them.
“Almost there,” Jenny huffed. “Here, I’m gonna—I’m gonna take a look real quick. Take the ruck so I can get through here.”
Matt hoisted the rucksack onto his back as Jenny dropped into a prone position and wriggled beneath the shrubs. “What do you see?” he whispered.
Jenny ignored him. Shit… A group of men, not Second Alliance, stood in formation within the maze of abandoned cars. Two facing the Depot with rifles angled toward the ground. Three others behind them holding the same, but toward their rear. The last of the men remained in the middle, handling the unknown conversation with the Depot. Who are these guys? No uniform, just coats, blue jeans, bags strapped across their back. Dressed like anyone else. Nothing to indicate who or what they represented. Never seen anyone come at the Depot like this before. What the hell could they want? Who the…? Then, she knew. Her heart sank with worry. Griffin’s people. They came here for me. Shit! The Second Alliance and now, these guys. She retreated back through the bush.
“Well?” Matt’s voice impatient.
“More trouble,” she said before squatting down.
Matt dropped too. “Who?”
“Not sure exactly, but I think it’s the people Griffin planned on giving me to.” Jenny began drawing in the snow, mapping out the lot, the cars, the men. “That’s the only thing I can think of right now.”