“My sentiments exactly,” Capelli agreed as the engine spooled down.
It took the better part of ten minutes to unload both the dog and the packs. Capelli felt a rising sense of tension, because now that he was on the ground he could see that two Hybrids were on the tarmac about fifty yards away. And if the stinks came by for a visit, the poop was going to hit the fan. Rowdy growled but didn’t bark as Capelli kept a firm grip on his leash.
Fortunately the Hybrids ambled off towards the west, which allowed the humans to turn in the other direction. And, because there was no perimeter to speak of, it was relatively easy to exit the base.
Thirty minutes later they cleared the eastern boundary of the city and followed a foot trail that paralleled the two-lane highway. Capelli figured the well-trod path was a recent development. Something both the Chimera and humans had created since the government’s collapse.
Haven was twenty miles away, so Capelli calculated that a day and a half of travel would be required to reach the town. Having gone without sleep, and with only a few hours until dawn, Capelli and Susan were in need of some shut-eye.
So when they came across one of the local phone company’s bunker-like switching stations, they gave the facility a quick once-over and made themselves at home. A heavy desk was sufficient to block the metal door, and they knew Rowdy would warn them if anyone came poking around.
The plan was to grab a quick meal and take a two-hour nap. But when Capelli awoke, light was streaming in through the building’s slitlike windows and it was well past noon. He shivered as he put a pot of water over a Sterno can to boil, woke Susan, and went to brush his teeth in the tiny washroom. The face in the mirror was in need of a shave.
The threesome was on the move an hour later. It was a chilly day, and while they saw occasional signs of human activity, there were no Chimera to be seen. But the ever-present danger was there, and Capelli was careful to keep his head on a swivel as they crossed fields, cut through fences, and splashed across streams.
As they walked, they talked. About the past mostly, since they were still in the process of getting acquainted, but the future as well. And as Capelli listened to Susan he heard echoes of his own desires in her words. Like him, she wanted to settle down somewhere, be part of something good, and lead a normal life. Or what passed for a normal life in post-apocalyptic America. Children were never mentioned, but they were implied, and Capelli was surprised to discover that the possibility had some appeal.
But mostly he enjoyed being with her. Susan wasn’t beautiful, not in the movie-star sense, but she was pretty and he liked to look at her. More than that he liked to hear the sound of her voice, and especially her laughter, which he sought ways to provoke. And judging from the small things she did for him, Capelli got the impression that she felt something, too.
So if it hadn’t been for the ever-present threat of attack, the day would have been quite pleasant. Rowdy scouted ahead and they followed a path through a grove of nearly naked oaks. Their fallen leaves lay like a beautiful carpet on the ground and rustled underfoot.
Then, at about four in the afternoon, they spotted vultures circling in the distance. Big birds that were already fat from feasting on death and were circling their next meal. Against the lead-gray sky they looked like black crosses. “Something died,” Susan commented. “Or is about to die.”
“Yeah,” Capelli agreed. “I guess we should take a look.”
With a low whistle he brought Rowdy in. Then, with the dog trotting alongside them, Capelli and Susan made their way up a gentle slope towards the top of a hill. Instead of breaking the skyline, they dropped onto their bellies short of the summit and crawled the rest of the way.
After securing Rowdy to a sapling, Capelli elbowed his way to the crest of the hill where Susan was eyeing the area through the Fareye’s telescopic sight. Capelli brought the Marksman around for the same purpose. The first thing he saw was an overgrown field. Beyond that was some rusty farm equipment, a sad-looking farmhouse, and a barn.
The birds were circling over the area in front of the house. That’s where what looked like a little girl was crouched next to a dead body. Capelli was reminded of Leena lying out in the middle of the highway with her daughter nearby.
“See the little girl?” Susan inquired. “She needs help.”
“It’s a trap,” Capelli said firmly. “Just like the one the circus people used to capture me. And there’s rules six and eight to consider.”
Susan turned to look at him. “Which are?”
“Mind your own business—and don’t trust anyone.”
Capelli saw the quizzical expression on her face. “What?” he asked defensively. “You disagree?”
“You would be dead if I believed in rule six.”
Capelli thought about that. “Has anyone ever mentioned how obnoxious you are?”
Susan chuckled. “My brother mentioned it almost every day as we were growing up.”
Capelli heard laughter echo inside his head. He hadn’t told Susan about the voice and didn’t plan to. She’s smarter than you are, Hale said, so get used to it.
Capelli sighed. “Okay. I’ll go down. At least I’ll have someone to cover me.”
“Count on it,” Susan replied. “And be sure to circle around behind the barn. If there are people lying in wait you’ll see them.”
It was good advice. So good it was what Capelli would have done anyway. He was about to say as much when he saw the look in her eye. He’d been talking to the ex–farm girl for the last few hours. This was the other Susan. The one who had been trained to kill people and was very good at it. He bit the words off. “Roger that. I’ll leave the Marksman and the pack here.”
“Good idea. And take Rowdy.”
Capelli nodded, put the rifle aside, and shrugged his way out of the pack. After he backed down the slope, he released the dog and headed north. The Bullseye was at the ready, and it felt good to be free of the pack.
The dirt road cut through the saddle between two hills and offered a natural crossing point. Capelli slipped through, eyed the area ahead, and made for the barn. The vultures continued to circle overhead. But except for them, and the rabbit that led Rowdy north, the farm was empty of life. Or so it seemed, anyway.
But Capelli wasn’t satisfied until he checked the barn’s interior, approached the house, and entered through the back door. The house had been looted, but there were no signs it was occupied. So where had the man and the little girl come from? That question was still on his mind as Capelli exited through the front door. What looked like a recent campfire was visible in front of the house. The body was still there, as was the little girl, who was wearing a coat that was much too large for her. She looked frightened.
“Don’t be scared,” Capelli said gruffly. “I won’t hurt you. Is this your father?”
“Daddy’s sick,” the grubby-faced moppet explained. “He won’t wake up.”
Capelli knelt on the east side of the body so that if it came to sudden life he wouldn’t block Susan’s shot. Then he felt for a pulse. It was thready, and the man’s breathing was shallow.
Capelli was no doctor, but he was an ex-soldier, and familiar with the symptoms of hypothermia. He looked up at the girl. “What’s your name, honey?”
“Amy.”
“Tell me something, Amy! Are you cold?”
The little girl shook her head. “Daddy gave me his jacket.”
Susan arrived at that point. She was carrying both packs and the Marksman. “Who’s your new friend?”
“This is Amy,” Capelli answered. “And the man is her father. I think he’s suffering from hypothermia. As far as I can tell, Amy and her dad don’t have any gear. And she’s wearing his jacket. Let’s get him into my sleeping bag, start a fire, and pour some tea down his gullet.”