“You know, you could have asked me out like a normal person.”
“Like I said…I’m not good at relationships. I didn’t think I had anything to offer you. And I didn’t think that was what I really wanted until any chance of having it was almost gone,” he says. “They make you do all these tests when you join the Marines. Not just physical, but mental resilience and emotional stability.”
“Okay.”
He stares off at nothing for a long moment before saying, “I tend to avoid engaging with things on an emotional level.”
“That’s the conclusion they came to, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think it’s accurate?”
His small smile is as wry as can be. “Don’t you?”
“I might have to give that some thought.” I eat some more of the mac and cheese. “We need to practice gratitude. It’s important for general happiness. Research has shown it reduces stress and can improve your soundness of mind, which seems particularly pertinent to our situation.”
“That can’t be right,” he says. “You’re making that up, aren’t you?”
“No. Today I am grateful to not have to pay back my student loans. Those predatory interest rates. Such a scam of a system. What about you?”
This small line appears between his brows. “Glad I don’t have to worry about medical insurance anymore.”
“Yeah. Just out of interest…what are you going to miss?”
“Football.” He’s such a dude. Honestly. “What about you?”
“Friends and family.”
His expression sobers. But his mouth stays shut. What is there to say?
I clear my throat. “I was researching places for a summer holiday with my family. Small towns that were peaceful, heavy on charm and low on people. Not too expensive, though that no longer matters. I found a place called Wolf Creek a couple of hours north of San Francisco. Population five hundred. Not particularly on the way to anywhere important. It’s situated between the coastal towns and a wine region.”
He cocks his head. “That’s where you want to go?”
“I think it wouldn’t hurt to take a look.”
“Defending a place like that would be a fucking nightmare.”
“Would it really, though? Small, with limited entry points? It wouldn’t hurt to have some help, however, which is why we need to make friends. Have community.”
He gives me a long look. “I am not saying I agree to your plan. But we have to move in some direction. Guess it might as well be south for now.”
I clap my hands. “This is going to be great.”
It is not great.
They’re perfectly positioned. Waiting for us when we come around a bend on a back road running sort of adjacent to a highway. Two men stand in front of a large truck that’s blocking the road, with another person situated behind it. All of them armed to the teeth, with white skin and short haircuts.
We hadn’t seen anyone all day. And now this. None of them seem sick at first glance. In fact, the merry assholes all appear to be in the best of health as they wave their weapons at us in a menacing fashion.
Dean brakes hard, bringing the motorcycle to a stop and sending me slamming into his back. Which is when he hisses at me, “When I give the signal, hit the ground.”
There’s no time to ask what the signal will be.
“Turn off the engine and throw the keys over here!” yells one of them. And Dean does as ordered.
“Get off the fucking bike!” yells another. “Get your pack and your helmet off.”
