Twenty-Five to Life, page 11
“Fam dies. Or everyone else does. Coop swore me to secrecy. Said it’s never been a problem before, and he’s worried the younger tramps won’t be as sympathetic.”
“I don’t blame them,” Julie said. “He’s adding weeks to the trip.”
“Time isn’t the real issue, though. With all the increased gang activity, he’s putting people in danger.”
Julie stretched. Hunching over the drones had put a crick in her back. “Let’s stuff his ass in the van and go then.”
“I suggested that. Coop countered that the car is the only thing Fam has.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah.” Ranger donned her utility belt and checked the charge on her stunner.
“Do you think there’ll be trouble?” Julie said.
“We make a tempting target. They might have let you and me go just to get our guard down.”
“And you’re sure about staying with them.”
“It’s what they’re paying us for.”
“I’ll put another pot of coffee on before I climb up.”
EIGHTEEN
Ranger’s eyes were red with fatigue. The night had passed without conflict but not without tension. Both she had Julie stayed up, on guard for any movement from the raiders on the other side of the park. The sun rose, fulfilling the if/then requirements of Fam’s creaky autodrive.
Ranger jogged back from Coop’s car. “Let’s get everyone moving and put as much distance between us and them as possible,” Ranger said. “You look like shit.”
“I feel like shit.”
“There’s a to-go breakfast at the fire and a roll of stimulants in the med box if you need them. I know you want to sleep, but I need you to keep one of the drones up while I drive, Bartleby preferably, and follow us at maximum range.”
Julie nodded. “Make sure they aren’t coming after us. Got it.”
“I hope I’m just being paranoid, but that’s part of the job.”
Julie filled a flask with reheated coffee and put Bartleby on an emergency recharge cycle. It wouldn’t be great for his longtime battery life, but the stimulant patch she slapped on her arm probably wasn’t good for hers, either.
Ranger stomped back to the van with her hands full. “Cold breakfast all around. We’re ready to go. You?”
Julie used her phone to check Bartleby’s vitals. His battery was about three-quarters charged. His transmission range, even with Ranger’s special equipment, was about seven miles. “Good enough.”
“Keep his eyes open but wait until we’re at the edge of his receiving range to launch and follow. I want to watch them as long as we can. Waldo said he’ll send a couple of his little painter drones out about a half mile ahead of Coop.”
Waldo’s drones were nearly toys, low range and low speed, basically flying cans of spray paint, but eyes were eyes. “If they see anything, maybe they can squirt it.”
Julie carried Bartleby to a concrete picnic table and left him on the chipped and weathered surface. She jogged back to the van in time to see Coop, at the head of the caravan, starting to move.
“We’re more vulnerable when we’re on the road,” Ranger said. “If they get ahead of us, they can attack from both sides.”
Julie kept her eyes on her phone. It was strange watching the caravan leave from Bartleby’s perspective. “I feel like we’re leaving him behind.”
“Better him than us,” Ranger said.
The van rocked and swayed. Juniper was the last vehicle in the procession, playing sweeper in case any of the other vehicles had trouble. It was easier to stop and help than turn around and come back.
In fifteen minutes, Julie hadn’t seen anything alarming through Bartleby’s cameras and they were nearing the edge of his transmission range. “I need to launch,” she said.
“Do it,” said Ranger. “Take him as close as you can to their park, circle it, and then get him back here.”
Julie set the drone’s fans in motion, taking the machine up to about fifty feet, and pointed it at the gang’s park. On the phone screen, it looked peaceful. A few people around campfires eating breakfast. Late bloomers crawling out of their beds to meet the day.
“Looks like they’re just waking up,” she said. “Wait…” One of the figures on screen was pointing at the drone. Then another.
The view from Bartleby’s cameras twisted sickeningly, and his vitals went red. He flipped over and fell.
“I think they hit him with something. He’s on the ground,” Julie said. “I’m trying to get him back up.”
The drone’s remaining fans whirred helplessly. Through its cameras, Julie watched as a heavy boot lifted over it. The screen went dark.
NINETEEN
They made it to the caravan’s winter park four days later.
“Victory screen, baby.” Ranger pounded out a drum roll on the steering wheel. “We got everyone here in one piece.” She looked like a corpse, gray-skinned and sharp-boned. She’d taken on the majority of the extra shifts their revised schedule required, arguing that all her weak spots had worn away years before.
Long hours of paranoia, fueled with caffeine and not a few stimulant patches, had left Julie’s mouth dry and her mind whirling. Her head pounded and a muscle in her left arm had been twitching for the last twelve hours. “Is that really it?”
Ranger pointed. “Right through that gate.”
The van was playing sweeper, bringing up the rear of the convoy to make sure no one got left behind. Coop and his little red car were already through the gate, and the other vehicles filed in and pulled into the spots indicated by the park’s caretaker.
“Lot of people here,” Julie said.
“Coop said, what, four groups? Looks like we might be the last to arrive.”
Rumpel was already out of her car and hugging a woman who was wearing a patchwork robe.
“Looks like they’ve been missed,” Julie said. “Are we really safe?”
“Nothing sure in life but death and the rising seas, buddy.” Ranger scratched the back of her head. “But I think so. The more people at a park the less likelihood of anyone from the outside doing something stupid.”
They were down to one fully functional security drone. Julie had kept them flying the whole time the caravan was on the road, stripping the batteries out of the parts drone and putting them into the charging rotation. After a wind storm sent one of the working drones into a tree, Ranger had fully cannibalized the parts donor to get its healthier sibling limping along. The van’s navigation system refused to respond no matter how many times Ranger thunked. Everything they owned needed a break and an overhaul.
Julie felt twitchy and anxious. She was exhausted, but sleep was the last thing on her mind. “What now?”
Ranger chewed her lip. “I’m going to check in with the caretaker while you unpack a little and make some room. Figure we’ll stay here for a bit. Put ourselves back together again.”
Julie moved like a zombie, each step in the unpacking process competent and totally mechanical. The folding tables and chairs went just so. The solar-cell array unwound, pointed south, and plugged into the inverter. Recycling carried to the one of the common bins. She left the doors of the van open to air out some of the funk and ran a clothes line from the van to a stake in the ground. She was just draping the bedding on the line when Ranger came back.
“Nice work. We’ll both sleep better with the crumbs shook out.” She handed Julie a fresh cup of coffee. “I can see why Coop and them come back here every year.”
“I’m surprised they don’t stay.”
Ranger sipped from her own mug. “Hurricane season and residency laws. Government isn’t giving out permits for permanent structures anymore, and anything less than permanent would be gone with the wind.”
“That blows.”
“You must be tired if you thought that was funny.” She smiled. “You ready to go meet the neighbors?”
Julie frowned. “I think I just want to sleep.”
“I won’t stop you, but it’s a bad idea. The come down from those stims is going to make you want to kill people. You’d be better off going to sleep at a normal hour and riding it out in REM.”
Julie hesitated. Ranger reached for her hand.
“Come on,” she said. “They have real vegetables.”
Julie let herself be led to the park kitchen, which indeed featured a shallow pan of roast vegetables, about twenty pounds of well-seasoned couscous, and three kinds of freshly baked bread.
“You ever had beer?” Ranger said.
“A few times. I didn’t really like it.”
Ranger filled a glass and put it beside Julie’s plate. “You might like this one. I just met the woman who makes it.”
The beer was dark and a little sweet, with a sort of coffee taste.
“It will help with your jitters.” Ranger poured herself a beer and sat across the table. “Nice people but not high-tech. We might be able to get the drone you’re calling Flutter fixed, but I doubt we’re going to be able to replace Bartleby and the Sacrificial Lamb.”
“Can’t we print parts?”
“My printer isn’t great for chips. It’s more of an anvil than a scalpel.” She drank some beer and smacked her lips. “We’ll see what happens. I put the word out. We might be surprised.”
A thin person with a shaved head approached the table. “What do you think of the stout?”
“Love it,” Ranger said. “Not sure Runner is convinced, though.”
Julie struggled to pull her attention together. She wanted nothing more than to lie down under the table and take a nap. “It’s good. Better than other beer I’ve tasted.”
“I’m the brewer.” They extended their hand. “Beer Wench. Wench for short.”
“I’m not really a beer person,” Julie said, reaching for Wench’s hand.
“It’s mostly a matter of finding the right one.” Wench squinted. “You folks just got in, right? Come back for lunch tomorrow, and we’ll do a tasting. I’ve got seven more on tap.”
“Count us in,” Ranger said.
“Do you make the bread, too?” Julie said.
“One of my husbands does. The other one can’t cook to save his life.”
Ranger pulled out her phone and sent Julie a message. “For a good time, follow those directions.” She stretched. “I have a couple of tricks to pull before it gets dark. See you in a bit.”
She left Julie to eat. The vegetables demanded seconds be taken, and between that, the beer, and cup of tea, Julie was almost feeling human again. Ranger’s directions led her to the park’s shower and laundry facilities. Outside the shower area, a sign advertised haircuts with an arrow pointing to an orange-and-blue tent, and Julie made a detour.
“Looking for something special for the ball?” the woman inside the tent said.
“The what?”
“The party tomorrow night.” The woman heaved herself out of the barber’s chair and motioned Julie to sit. “To celebrate all the groups arriving.”
“I hadn’t heard about it.”
The woman washed and combed out Julie’s hair. “You’ve been out here, what, a month or so?”
“About that.”
“You’re going to ask me to cut it all off.”
I’m a cliché. “Is that a thing everyone does?”
“Pretty much. It will stay that way for a couple of years, then you’ll get bored with it and try growing it out again. By that time you might be traveling with an established group and have more regular access to bathing.”
“By all means then, cut.”
“Skin or fuzz?”
“Fuzz.”
After the haircut, Julie hit the showers, which, she was surprised to see, included several large soaking tubs. She soaked while the laundry machines worked over her clothes. When she emerged from the bath, the transformation was complete: twitchy ball of nerves to human being. She got dressed and made a loop around the park. It was a mix of vehicles and temporary structures like yurts and tents. Most were residential, but many had signs advertising various services. Several people were at work in the greenhouses.
Coop waved her over when she returned to the caravan’s parking spots. He looked tired but clean and well-fed. “I like your hair. What’s next on your agenda?”
“Food and fourteen hours sleep,” Julie said.
“I hear you. That was not the easiest run I’ve ever made.” He cleared his throat. “You did good out there.”
“I just did what Ranger told me to do.”
“She knows her business.” He sighed. “Pop up, kiddo, I’m not getting any younger. Don’t know how many trips like that I’ve got in me.”
Julie made a noise she hoped read as noncommittal. Coop was not a young man but pointing that out or agreeing with it didn’t seem polite.
“There could be a place for you in the caravan. Permanent-like,” he said. “Ride with me for a year and maybe take over as scout when I retire. I’ll sign my car over to you free and clear.”
“Jeez, Coop.” Julie blinked. “I’m honored.”
The old man smiled. “We’re not a big outfit, but we’re solid. Car’s in good shape. Should hold up for a while. I’d like to know it’s in good hands.”
Julie’s mind was whirling again. In less than two months, she’d gone from bitter and jobless to employed and overwhelmed. It was probably an improvement overall, but her stomach twisted. Life was easier without options. “Let me think about it.”
Coop smiled. “You know where I am.”
TWENTY
The park kitchen was convenient and comfortable and the food was vastly superior to that on the road, but Julie missed the campfire. Around it, there was an understanding of the need for silence and reflection. To signal such a need, all that was required was to gaze into the flames and–
A middle-aged man with slicked-back hair patted her shoulder again. “I asked if you were saved, girl.” The man’s smile was beautiful and terrible.
Julie sighed. There were all kinds of valid reactions to the end of the world: loss of sanity had to be in there somewhere. “I’m all set, thanks.”
The man shook his head. “We must all appear before Christ to receive what is due for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad.”
Do things done “in body” include ThirdEye? Julie had broken any number of the man’s commandments in virtual reality, probably could have curled his hair with some of her stories. Once, she might have asked him, even enjoyed the debate, but the smiling man was the fourth to try to save her soul since she’d hauled her stimulant hangover out of bed the morning before. Julie kept her mouth shut, and he wandered off toward the dessert table. It was Pie Day.
“It’s just ’cause you’re new,” said the woman sitting on Julie’s other side. “In a couple of days, Hap will be just as content to be ignored, and he’ll go back to reading his Bible.”
“Hap” was short for Happy Daze. He was one of about a dozen people at the park who believed the mission to Proxima Centauri was the Rapture in disguise and that in less than seven years Christ would return to lead the rest of his people home. They were a small, undauntedly cheerful group, and why not? It was all going just like they expected. Cue the Apocalypse.
Julie got up to draw another glass of porter. At lunch the day before, Wench had plied Julie with samples until she admitted that she just might be a beer person after all. The porter was milder than the stout and went well with the vegetarian chili on offer for dinner. Rumpel caught up with Julie on route to the tap.
“Ranger’s looking for you,” she said. “Fam’s disappeared.”
Adrenaline pushed Julie’s heart rate higher than coffee ever could. She followed Rumpel to the yurt that housed the park’s security service. Fam’s car was stuck in a travel loop. The only place it could go was back to the caravan’s summer park in Canada. A carjacking then. A kidnapping. Somehow the gang had followed them and picked off their weakest link. “Do we know which way they went?”
Rumpel shook her head. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”
Ranger and Coop were bent over a display table with Law Dog, the park’s head of security. Julie had met him at the party and told him about her own curtailed ambitions. “Cops were getting bad twenty years ago when I got out,” he had told her. “You probably got lucky.”
Coop beckoned Julie over when she entered the yurt.
“What happened?” she said.
“Last anyone saw him was last night. They said he seemed confused. We only noticed he was gone about an hour ago.”
Rumpel’s face was pale. “He was supposed to meet us for lunch.”
“Did someone take him?” Julie said.
“Doesn’t look like it.” Ranger tapped the viewscreen embedded in the table. “One of Dog’s drones spotted him climbing into his car to sleep. In the morning, the parking spot was empty.”
“Why would he leave?”
“He wouldn’t.” Rumpel wrung her hands. “We’re all he has.”
“Maybe it wasn’t enough,” Law Dog said. “People’re doing all kinds of fucked up things since the colony mission left.”
“Did the drone pick up any sound?” Julie said.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Ranger said. “Dog’s equipment is seriously out of date. I was hoping you could use the software on our drones to dig something out.”
“Let me try.”
Ranger’s drones were nonstandard, but they had a thoroughly modern suite of analysis ware, and Julie had learned a few tricks in school. She fetched Flutter from the van and worked in silence for a few minutes. Then she played Fam’s last sighting again using lip-reading software. “I just want to go home,” he’d mumbled as he entered the car. “Take me home.”
“Shit,” Coop said.
“Is that all it would take?” Ranger said.
Coop’s hand went to his mouth. “Might be. Yeah.”
“I don’t understand,” Law Dog said.
“Fam’s car was looping.” Ranger closed the video clip. “Montreal to here and then back.”
“So, he’s–”
“On his way to Canada,” Julie said.
“I don’t blame them,” Julie said. “He’s adding weeks to the trip.”
“Time isn’t the real issue, though. With all the increased gang activity, he’s putting people in danger.”
Julie stretched. Hunching over the drones had put a crick in her back. “Let’s stuff his ass in the van and go then.”
“I suggested that. Coop countered that the car is the only thing Fam has.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah.” Ranger donned her utility belt and checked the charge on her stunner.
“Do you think there’ll be trouble?” Julie said.
“We make a tempting target. They might have let you and me go just to get our guard down.”
“And you’re sure about staying with them.”
“It’s what they’re paying us for.”
“I’ll put another pot of coffee on before I climb up.”
EIGHTEEN
Ranger’s eyes were red with fatigue. The night had passed without conflict but not without tension. Both she had Julie stayed up, on guard for any movement from the raiders on the other side of the park. The sun rose, fulfilling the if/then requirements of Fam’s creaky autodrive.
Ranger jogged back from Coop’s car. “Let’s get everyone moving and put as much distance between us and them as possible,” Ranger said. “You look like shit.”
“I feel like shit.”
“There’s a to-go breakfast at the fire and a roll of stimulants in the med box if you need them. I know you want to sleep, but I need you to keep one of the drones up while I drive, Bartleby preferably, and follow us at maximum range.”
Julie nodded. “Make sure they aren’t coming after us. Got it.”
“I hope I’m just being paranoid, but that’s part of the job.”
Julie filled a flask with reheated coffee and put Bartleby on an emergency recharge cycle. It wouldn’t be great for his longtime battery life, but the stimulant patch she slapped on her arm probably wasn’t good for hers, either.
Ranger stomped back to the van with her hands full. “Cold breakfast all around. We’re ready to go. You?”
Julie used her phone to check Bartleby’s vitals. His battery was about three-quarters charged. His transmission range, even with Ranger’s special equipment, was about seven miles. “Good enough.”
“Keep his eyes open but wait until we’re at the edge of his receiving range to launch and follow. I want to watch them as long as we can. Waldo said he’ll send a couple of his little painter drones out about a half mile ahead of Coop.”
Waldo’s drones were nearly toys, low range and low speed, basically flying cans of spray paint, but eyes were eyes. “If they see anything, maybe they can squirt it.”
Julie carried Bartleby to a concrete picnic table and left him on the chipped and weathered surface. She jogged back to the van in time to see Coop, at the head of the caravan, starting to move.
“We’re more vulnerable when we’re on the road,” Ranger said. “If they get ahead of us, they can attack from both sides.”
Julie kept her eyes on her phone. It was strange watching the caravan leave from Bartleby’s perspective. “I feel like we’re leaving him behind.”
“Better him than us,” Ranger said.
The van rocked and swayed. Juniper was the last vehicle in the procession, playing sweeper in case any of the other vehicles had trouble. It was easier to stop and help than turn around and come back.
In fifteen minutes, Julie hadn’t seen anything alarming through Bartleby’s cameras and they were nearing the edge of his transmission range. “I need to launch,” she said.
“Do it,” said Ranger. “Take him as close as you can to their park, circle it, and then get him back here.”
Julie set the drone’s fans in motion, taking the machine up to about fifty feet, and pointed it at the gang’s park. On the phone screen, it looked peaceful. A few people around campfires eating breakfast. Late bloomers crawling out of their beds to meet the day.
“Looks like they’re just waking up,” she said. “Wait…” One of the figures on screen was pointing at the drone. Then another.
The view from Bartleby’s cameras twisted sickeningly, and his vitals went red. He flipped over and fell.
“I think they hit him with something. He’s on the ground,” Julie said. “I’m trying to get him back up.”
The drone’s remaining fans whirred helplessly. Through its cameras, Julie watched as a heavy boot lifted over it. The screen went dark.
NINETEEN
They made it to the caravan’s winter park four days later.
“Victory screen, baby.” Ranger pounded out a drum roll on the steering wheel. “We got everyone here in one piece.” She looked like a corpse, gray-skinned and sharp-boned. She’d taken on the majority of the extra shifts their revised schedule required, arguing that all her weak spots had worn away years before.
Long hours of paranoia, fueled with caffeine and not a few stimulant patches, had left Julie’s mouth dry and her mind whirling. Her head pounded and a muscle in her left arm had been twitching for the last twelve hours. “Is that really it?”
Ranger pointed. “Right through that gate.”
The van was playing sweeper, bringing up the rear of the convoy to make sure no one got left behind. Coop and his little red car were already through the gate, and the other vehicles filed in and pulled into the spots indicated by the park’s caretaker.
“Lot of people here,” Julie said.
“Coop said, what, four groups? Looks like we might be the last to arrive.”
Rumpel was already out of her car and hugging a woman who was wearing a patchwork robe.
“Looks like they’ve been missed,” Julie said. “Are we really safe?”
“Nothing sure in life but death and the rising seas, buddy.” Ranger scratched the back of her head. “But I think so. The more people at a park the less likelihood of anyone from the outside doing something stupid.”
They were down to one fully functional security drone. Julie had kept them flying the whole time the caravan was on the road, stripping the batteries out of the parts drone and putting them into the charging rotation. After a wind storm sent one of the working drones into a tree, Ranger had fully cannibalized the parts donor to get its healthier sibling limping along. The van’s navigation system refused to respond no matter how many times Ranger thunked. Everything they owned needed a break and an overhaul.
Julie felt twitchy and anxious. She was exhausted, but sleep was the last thing on her mind. “What now?”
Ranger chewed her lip. “I’m going to check in with the caretaker while you unpack a little and make some room. Figure we’ll stay here for a bit. Put ourselves back together again.”
Julie moved like a zombie, each step in the unpacking process competent and totally mechanical. The folding tables and chairs went just so. The solar-cell array unwound, pointed south, and plugged into the inverter. Recycling carried to the one of the common bins. She left the doors of the van open to air out some of the funk and ran a clothes line from the van to a stake in the ground. She was just draping the bedding on the line when Ranger came back.
“Nice work. We’ll both sleep better with the crumbs shook out.” She handed Julie a fresh cup of coffee. “I can see why Coop and them come back here every year.”
“I’m surprised they don’t stay.”
Ranger sipped from her own mug. “Hurricane season and residency laws. Government isn’t giving out permits for permanent structures anymore, and anything less than permanent would be gone with the wind.”
“That blows.”
“You must be tired if you thought that was funny.” She smiled. “You ready to go meet the neighbors?”
Julie frowned. “I think I just want to sleep.”
“I won’t stop you, but it’s a bad idea. The come down from those stims is going to make you want to kill people. You’d be better off going to sleep at a normal hour and riding it out in REM.”
Julie hesitated. Ranger reached for her hand.
“Come on,” she said. “They have real vegetables.”
Julie let herself be led to the park kitchen, which indeed featured a shallow pan of roast vegetables, about twenty pounds of well-seasoned couscous, and three kinds of freshly baked bread.
“You ever had beer?” Ranger said.
“A few times. I didn’t really like it.”
Ranger filled a glass and put it beside Julie’s plate. “You might like this one. I just met the woman who makes it.”
The beer was dark and a little sweet, with a sort of coffee taste.
“It will help with your jitters.” Ranger poured herself a beer and sat across the table. “Nice people but not high-tech. We might be able to get the drone you’re calling Flutter fixed, but I doubt we’re going to be able to replace Bartleby and the Sacrificial Lamb.”
“Can’t we print parts?”
“My printer isn’t great for chips. It’s more of an anvil than a scalpel.” She drank some beer and smacked her lips. “We’ll see what happens. I put the word out. We might be surprised.”
A thin person with a shaved head approached the table. “What do you think of the stout?”
“Love it,” Ranger said. “Not sure Runner is convinced, though.”
Julie struggled to pull her attention together. She wanted nothing more than to lie down under the table and take a nap. “It’s good. Better than other beer I’ve tasted.”
“I’m the brewer.” They extended their hand. “Beer Wench. Wench for short.”
“I’m not really a beer person,” Julie said, reaching for Wench’s hand.
“It’s mostly a matter of finding the right one.” Wench squinted. “You folks just got in, right? Come back for lunch tomorrow, and we’ll do a tasting. I’ve got seven more on tap.”
“Count us in,” Ranger said.
“Do you make the bread, too?” Julie said.
“One of my husbands does. The other one can’t cook to save his life.”
Ranger pulled out her phone and sent Julie a message. “For a good time, follow those directions.” She stretched. “I have a couple of tricks to pull before it gets dark. See you in a bit.”
She left Julie to eat. The vegetables demanded seconds be taken, and between that, the beer, and cup of tea, Julie was almost feeling human again. Ranger’s directions led her to the park’s shower and laundry facilities. Outside the shower area, a sign advertised haircuts with an arrow pointing to an orange-and-blue tent, and Julie made a detour.
“Looking for something special for the ball?” the woman inside the tent said.
“The what?”
“The party tomorrow night.” The woman heaved herself out of the barber’s chair and motioned Julie to sit. “To celebrate all the groups arriving.”
“I hadn’t heard about it.”
The woman washed and combed out Julie’s hair. “You’ve been out here, what, a month or so?”
“About that.”
“You’re going to ask me to cut it all off.”
I’m a cliché. “Is that a thing everyone does?”
“Pretty much. It will stay that way for a couple of years, then you’ll get bored with it and try growing it out again. By that time you might be traveling with an established group and have more regular access to bathing.”
“By all means then, cut.”
“Skin or fuzz?”
“Fuzz.”
After the haircut, Julie hit the showers, which, she was surprised to see, included several large soaking tubs. She soaked while the laundry machines worked over her clothes. When she emerged from the bath, the transformation was complete: twitchy ball of nerves to human being. She got dressed and made a loop around the park. It was a mix of vehicles and temporary structures like yurts and tents. Most were residential, but many had signs advertising various services. Several people were at work in the greenhouses.
Coop waved her over when she returned to the caravan’s parking spots. He looked tired but clean and well-fed. “I like your hair. What’s next on your agenda?”
“Food and fourteen hours sleep,” Julie said.
“I hear you. That was not the easiest run I’ve ever made.” He cleared his throat. “You did good out there.”
“I just did what Ranger told me to do.”
“She knows her business.” He sighed. “Pop up, kiddo, I’m not getting any younger. Don’t know how many trips like that I’ve got in me.”
Julie made a noise she hoped read as noncommittal. Coop was not a young man but pointing that out or agreeing with it didn’t seem polite.
“There could be a place for you in the caravan. Permanent-like,” he said. “Ride with me for a year and maybe take over as scout when I retire. I’ll sign my car over to you free and clear.”
“Jeez, Coop.” Julie blinked. “I’m honored.”
The old man smiled. “We’re not a big outfit, but we’re solid. Car’s in good shape. Should hold up for a while. I’d like to know it’s in good hands.”
Julie’s mind was whirling again. In less than two months, she’d gone from bitter and jobless to employed and overwhelmed. It was probably an improvement overall, but her stomach twisted. Life was easier without options. “Let me think about it.”
Coop smiled. “You know where I am.”
TWENTY
The park kitchen was convenient and comfortable and the food was vastly superior to that on the road, but Julie missed the campfire. Around it, there was an understanding of the need for silence and reflection. To signal such a need, all that was required was to gaze into the flames and–
A middle-aged man with slicked-back hair patted her shoulder again. “I asked if you were saved, girl.” The man’s smile was beautiful and terrible.
Julie sighed. There were all kinds of valid reactions to the end of the world: loss of sanity had to be in there somewhere. “I’m all set, thanks.”
The man shook his head. “We must all appear before Christ to receive what is due for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad.”
Do things done “in body” include ThirdEye? Julie had broken any number of the man’s commandments in virtual reality, probably could have curled his hair with some of her stories. Once, she might have asked him, even enjoyed the debate, but the smiling man was the fourth to try to save her soul since she’d hauled her stimulant hangover out of bed the morning before. Julie kept her mouth shut, and he wandered off toward the dessert table. It was Pie Day.
“It’s just ’cause you’re new,” said the woman sitting on Julie’s other side. “In a couple of days, Hap will be just as content to be ignored, and he’ll go back to reading his Bible.”
“Hap” was short for Happy Daze. He was one of about a dozen people at the park who believed the mission to Proxima Centauri was the Rapture in disguise and that in less than seven years Christ would return to lead the rest of his people home. They were a small, undauntedly cheerful group, and why not? It was all going just like they expected. Cue the Apocalypse.
Julie got up to draw another glass of porter. At lunch the day before, Wench had plied Julie with samples until she admitted that she just might be a beer person after all. The porter was milder than the stout and went well with the vegetarian chili on offer for dinner. Rumpel caught up with Julie on route to the tap.
“Ranger’s looking for you,” she said. “Fam’s disappeared.”
Adrenaline pushed Julie’s heart rate higher than coffee ever could. She followed Rumpel to the yurt that housed the park’s security service. Fam’s car was stuck in a travel loop. The only place it could go was back to the caravan’s summer park in Canada. A carjacking then. A kidnapping. Somehow the gang had followed them and picked off their weakest link. “Do we know which way they went?”
Rumpel shook her head. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”
Ranger and Coop were bent over a display table with Law Dog, the park’s head of security. Julie had met him at the party and told him about her own curtailed ambitions. “Cops were getting bad twenty years ago when I got out,” he had told her. “You probably got lucky.”
Coop beckoned Julie over when she entered the yurt.
“What happened?” she said.
“Last anyone saw him was last night. They said he seemed confused. We only noticed he was gone about an hour ago.”
Rumpel’s face was pale. “He was supposed to meet us for lunch.”
“Did someone take him?” Julie said.
“Doesn’t look like it.” Ranger tapped the viewscreen embedded in the table. “One of Dog’s drones spotted him climbing into his car to sleep. In the morning, the parking spot was empty.”
“Why would he leave?”
“He wouldn’t.” Rumpel wrung her hands. “We’re all he has.”
“Maybe it wasn’t enough,” Law Dog said. “People’re doing all kinds of fucked up things since the colony mission left.”
“Did the drone pick up any sound?” Julie said.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Ranger said. “Dog’s equipment is seriously out of date. I was hoping you could use the software on our drones to dig something out.”
“Let me try.”
Ranger’s drones were nonstandard, but they had a thoroughly modern suite of analysis ware, and Julie had learned a few tricks in school. She fetched Flutter from the van and worked in silence for a few minutes. Then she played Fam’s last sighting again using lip-reading software. “I just want to go home,” he’d mumbled as he entered the car. “Take me home.”
“Shit,” Coop said.
“Is that all it would take?” Ranger said.
Coop’s hand went to his mouth. “Might be. Yeah.”
“I don’t understand,” Law Dog said.
“Fam’s car was looping.” Ranger closed the video clip. “Montreal to here and then back.”
“So, he’s–”
“On his way to Canada,” Julie said.
