Jason had jumped up from the couch when the figure knocked on the door, nervous as a kid on his first date, but the man had seemed less than enthusiastic upon seeing him.
“Looking to join up?” He didn’t just look tired, he sounded tired. His eyes roamed over Jason’s clothes and equipment, little more than a small backpack and a battered lever action rifle that was older than Moses. Jason had barely started to nod when Ed grunted and headed upstairs in the fading light.
The other soldier was just as disappointing. He was even older than Ed, who had to be at least forty. Ancient. He was a big guy, over six foot, with wide shoulders and a giant sunburned head atop them.
“How y’all doin’?” was the first thing he said as he stepped through the back door. At the accent Jason’s heart sank. A nerd and a bigheaded cracker redneck in Wrangler jeans, who looked like he used to have a sizeable beer belly.
“Call me Early,” he’d told Jason, wandering aimlessly through the house. Eventually he took a position before the front window, leaning against the back of the couch, resting his big rifle across his thighs. His hands were huge, and tanned as brown as the wood stock of his rifle. And just as scarred.
Colleen, the same woman who’d told Jason she didn’t have any food for him, promptly began cooking up a pot of soup full of squirrel meat over a small fire behind the house. Bitch. Early just stared out the window, humming softly to himself.
“You don’t have to cook fer us, Coll,” he called out.
The woman was just outside the back door, stirring, and shook her head.
“Meat’s gonna go bad if I keep it any longer,” she called back. “’Sides, don’t tell me you’re turning down food now.”
Early’s big face broke out in a grin. “No, can’t say that I am.”
Jason was twitching with nervous energy. Were these the guys? They weren’t wearing any patches or insignia or even camo, although they both had angular vests strapped across their chests, filled with armor plates he was pretty sure. How come there were only two of them? Were they going to take him with them when they left? He tried to ask Early about it.
“Jes’ relax, Junior,” he drawled. “Sit down and we’ll have a little dinner first, soon as the Cap’n comes down. First rule you gotta learn is never do anything on an empty stomach if you kin help it.” And that was all he had to say, until Ed trudged down the narrow staircase.
The setting sun threw a few orange fingers into the living room but otherwise the house was a cave. Colleen brought the soup pot into the kitchen and set it on the stove, then went about lighting half a dozen obviously handmade candles. As the sun finally dropped out of sight the candles threw flickering shadows around the small kitchen, reflecting off the linoleum and Formica and spotted chrome.
At Early’s nod Jason joined them around the small table, leaning his rifle against the counter next to theirs. The sight was oddly disconcerting to him. His lever action was a family heirloom and, he had to be honest, looked a little pathetic next to Ed’s magazine-fed military rifle with its battered camouflage paint job. But it was all he had to bring.
“Colleen, you better sit down too. I’m not going to let you stand there and watch us eat.” Behind his glasses Ed looked cross. “You look like you’ve lost ten pounds since the last time I saw you.”
She emptied the remains of the soup into the third bowl then set the still-hot container back on a stove burner that hadn’t been lit for most of a decade.
“Don’t you try bossing me around in my own house.” She put her hands on her stocky hips. “I’m the only one in this house that has any fat on their body, don’t think I can’t skip a few more meals. You, you look like a scarecrow. I ought to give you Early’s portion.”
“Hey now.” Early put a protective arm around his bowl.
Ed laughed and held up his hands. “Okay, okay.” He cocked his head. “How much have you lost, now?”
The stocky woman gave a shy, prideful smile. “Hundred and eighty pounds, last I checked, but I think my scale’s broken now.”
“Hell of a way to diet,” Ed told her.
“You got that right,” Early nodded.
“I’m getting enough to eat, it’s just mostly protein,” she told them. “I guess that low-carb diet stuff was true. I must have thirty snares, one, two blocks in every direction, and let me tell you, the war might be hell on people but the animals are loving it. The long grass everywhere and the bushes going wild. I got squirrels, rabbits, even pheasants. Trade my extra meat for seeds for my garden. Another three weeks or so and the raspberries’ll be ready.”
“You have a garden?” Jason said, automatically glancing at the rear of the house. He’d looked into the backyard several times and not noticed it.
“Not where anyone can just stumble across it,” Colleen told him. She sat down. Jason grabbed a spoon and was about to dig in, then noticed both Early and Colleen had their heads bowed, their lips moving in silent prayer. After a few seconds they finished, traded a nod, and grabbed their spoons.
“Did you say you saw her signal?” Jason said to Ed around a mouthful of soup. It tasted amazing. He looked at Colleen. “Did you call him or something?” He hadn’t heard her make a phone call. Did the phone service still work down here? He was under the impression it didn’t.
Ed and Early traded a glance. “Ancient Chinese secret,” Early finally told him, and Ed snorted.
Jason frowned, but didn’t press it. He knew Colleen hadn’t made a phone call. Heck, she hadn’t left the house since he’d arrived except to hang some laundry in the side yard. That thought made him stop, and blink. Hmm.
CHAPTER THREE
“How much action have you seen?”
Ed stood along the wall near the stairs, almost hidden in shadow. The candles in the kitchen didn’t carry into the living room. Jason wished he could see the man’s face, but was glad they couldn’t see his own. He tried not to sound intimidated as he answered.
“Some. Three or four big gunfights. Probably doesn’t seem like much to you guys, all the fighting going on around here, but we don’t see that much army up north. Not as much as there used to be, I guess. And most people just don’t… aren’t… interested in fighting. That’s why I came down here.” He could describe, in detail, each and every incident for them if they wanted.
“You’re so far behind the lines you might as well not exist to them, you’ve got nothing they want, and they’re stretched thin as it is,” Ed told him. His voice sounded hollow, bouncing off the drywall. Jason didn’t know what the man meant by his comment. He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, not sure what to say.
Early sat on the couch across from Jason, his big frame leaning back against the cushions. Slowly he leaned forward, set his elbows on his knees. “How old did you say you were agin?”
“Nineteen.” The blonde kid sounded angry that he had to repeat himself. Early made a sound and looked over at Ed. Their faces were unreadable in the dark.
Glasses catching a faint gleam from the starlight trailing in through the front window, Ed motioned at Jason’s rifle. “You been using that the whole time?”
His hand went out reflexively to touch the battered lever action leaning against the wall. Most of the bluing was worn off the receiver, but it was free of rust. “Yeah. I—I’ve had it a long time.”
“How many people have you shot?” Early cocked his head, face still unreadable in the dark. The woman was silent in the kitchen, reading by candlelight, studiously ignoring their conversation.
“I—I don’t know. I wasn’t the only person there, you know, and things got a little… confusing. Six or seven, maybe.” If there’d been any light at all they would’ve seen how badly he was sweating, but they seemed not to notice his quavering voice. Early leaned back on the couch, clasped his hands over his belly.