Mate Run, page 4
A glance at the screen showed white arrows on a black background, all pulsing toward the center where the word PRESS blinked. Stepping out of camera range, I shimmied off my pants and panties. Leaving the pants on the floor, I took my panties and pressed the crotch to the screen. For seconds, nothing happened. Then the whole screen lit up red. A message appeared: transfer complete.
The next link was to a printable version of the agreements I’d signed for my records. I printed a hard copy, uploaded a copy to the cloud, and saved a copy to my hard drive. Overkill? Maybe, but I believed in having backups for my backups. Knowing I’d done as much as I could for the night, I logged off the computer and dressed for bed.
It was time for bed, the time of day I dreaded. Without my father, the nights were too dark and the outside noises too scary. I’d never known the night could be so dark until we moved into the middle of nowhere. In the city, there were always lights shining. The only benefit of being out here was that I could finally see the stars. Their wondrous sight didn’t make up for the total blackness that engulfed us as every light in the encampment turned off.
I did a final check on Jock. He’d fallen asleep with his cheek on the tablet. I carefully slid the device from under him and placed it on the charger. Picking up his comforter off the floor, I spread it over my son, covering him until only his head showed. Jock was hot-natured, so I gave it an hour before the covers ended up on the floor again. After placing a light kiss on his curly brown head, I walked out of the room, closing the door behind me.
In the hallway, I bent down and switched on the night light. There was another in the bathroom, already on. The last one was in the kitchen. I flipped it on before turning off the lamp. With a knife under my pillow and the shotgun leaning within arm’s reach beside the couch, I climbed into bed. It still held the scent of my father. Or maybe it was his favorite flannel shirt I slept in every night that carried his familiar scent. More likely, it was simply my overactive imagination. Whatever the case, the thought brought me comfort.
As I lay beneath the covers, I wondered how Mate Match worked. Would I be expected to meet with my prospective matches for dates? If so, would they come to me, or would I have to travel to them? How long would the process take? Winter would arrive in another month or so, and with it, several feet of snow. I didn’t want to be trapped here in this encampment. Correction, I refused to become trapped. I added “escape plans” to my mental to-do list.
I was placing all of my hopes onto an infected male wanting me as a mate, but what if no one was interested? According to the investigator my law firm had hired, he’d reached out to every clan leader in the eastern territory. Surely, those leaders had passed on the information to the males in their clans. Would they recognize my name and know this for the last-ditch effort it was? What if I found a match, the male brought me back to his clan, and the leader refused to accept us?
One day, one worry at a time, I reminded myself. I punched my pillow and snuggled deeper under the blankets, yawning as the long day caught up with me. “Siri, play rain sounds,” I said. As the soothing sounds of rainfall filled the room, I finally drifted off to sleep.
⬥⬥⬥⬥⬥
“You should let me take the boy hunting,” Bruno said.
My insides froze as I heard his suggestion. It was all I could do not to bellow, “Hell no!” As Hannah had warned, I’d been playing nice and keeping a low profile. Bruno made it difficult. He turned up like a bad penny every time I exited the camper.
“He’s too young,” I said.
“Your father took the boy with him,” he argued.
My father, who you may or may not have killed? I wondered.
“My father was teaching him how to track, not hunt, and they didn’t stay out long or go far. Nor were weapons involved,” I said.
I sat in a lawn chair, wrapped in an old hunting jacket of my father’s, watching Jock play. As soon as I’d settled into my chair, Bruno had left the men he’d been conversing with, brought his camp chair over, and set it next to mine. Cujo had run back to me when he saw Bruno approaching, but I’d whispered to him to guard Jock. It was difficult not to show how much Bruno’s presence disturbed me, but I gave it a valiant effort. To the others who stared, we appeared very much the couple watching over their son as he played.
“You’re coddling the boy,” Bruno said.
“The boy is only four,” I said, an edge creeping into my tone. If he called my son, “the boy” one more time, I was going to lose it. “He has plenty of time to learn how to kill an animal. He barely knows how to tie his shoelaces.”
Silence fell. I felt him staring at my profile, and it made me twitchy.
“You gave any more thought to my proposition?” he asked.
“Been thinking about it,” I said, not looking at him. I’d thought of nothing else.
“And?” he asked.
“Still thinking,” I said.
“About what?” he said, somewhat testily. I could hear the scowl in his voice.
I cut my eyes in his direction, before slowly turning my head. My stare was hard. “It’s a big decision. One I’m not going to jump into. My father taught me better than that.”
At the mention of my father, his frown eased and his narrowed eyes relaxed. “You’re right. You shouldn’t rush. We’re talking about the rest of your life. I can wait.”
Nodding, I withheld my sigh of relief. With the skill of a tightrope walker, I’d been toeing the line between approachable and not too encouraging. I’d taught myself not to flinch when he played with my hair, came too close, or touched me casually. I deserved an acting award for my performance.
“When do you go to New Town again?” he asked.
“Why? You need me to pick up something?” The whole encampment knew I traveled to the city once a quarter for medical tests. No one had ever inquired about it before, except to ask me to run errands for them. They didn’t like making the drive unless it was absolutely necessary, and like the infected, the crowded city set their nerves on edge. My father had been the same. Too many people, too much noise, and too many potential threats.
“You shouldn’t go alone. Week before, I ran off two yahoos sniffing around. This week, Tom and Jason ran off the same two guys. I don’t know what they’re after, but I don’t like the thought of you leaving camp alone,” he said.
I glanced warily around. From my father, I’d learned that encampments like ours always had to be on the lookout for bandits and ne'er do wells. People who preyed on the weak, swooped in, and stole everything of value. They rarely bothered us. The men here had a reputation and wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone who tried. It was one of the reasons I’d felt comfortable remaining here after my father’s death.
“Let me know when it’s time for you to go again. I’ll ride with you,” he said.
There was no way in hell I’d let Bruno come with me, but Bruno’s expression said saying no wasn’t an option. I hesitated. If I agreed too readily, he’d know I was lying. I wasn’t known for my docile nature. Slowly, I nodded.
He studied me. I held his gaze until he finally nodded, convinced I’d obey his decree.
“Momma, look at me,” Joaquin called, breaking the tension.
I watched while my son performed some feat of dexterity a child his age shouldn’t be capable. “Great job, Jock,” I praised.
Jock beamed with pride and darted off to another piece of equipment, Cujo by his side.
“I noticed you putting bags in the Humvee...”
Over the past three weeks, I had gathered the must-haves of Jock and my belongings and stored them in the Hummer. I’d done it early in the morning, before sunrise. For Bruno to have seen, it meant he was watching me even closer than I thought. Fortunately, I already had an excuse prepared in case I got caught. “My father’s clothes. I’ve been forcing myself to go through them. They’re taking up unnecessary space. Next time I go into the city, I’ll drop them off at a shelter.”
The conceited ass probably thought I was making space for him. Or at least, I hoped he did. I preferred it to him realizing the truth.
“No need to do that. Plenty of men here that can use them. I can—” Bruno made to rise from his seat.
“No!” Panic caused me to speak more forcefully than intended. When Bruno’s eyes narrowed, I continued. “Losing my father was hard enough. Seeing men walking around in clothes that once belonged to him...?” I broke off, unable to continue. “No,” I repeated, tugging my father’s jacket closer to me.
Noting my action, Bruno sighed and awkwardly patted my knee. “I understand,” he said, his voice oozing sympathy. “I miss him, too.”
Do you, you sick son of a bitch? Do you understand the depth of the pain you caused when you took my father away from me? It was all I could do not to scream the words at him.
Chapter Five
Cara
“Are we doing anything for Thanksgiving?” I asked Bruno, keeping my violent thoughts carefully hidden.
For the last few years, the residents had pulled their resources together and eaten as a unit. The men hunted and provided the meat. The women made the side dishes and desserts. There was so much food, the feast normally lasted several days. My father had been the driving force behind it. With him gone, I hadn’t heard anyone mention it.
“Would you like that?” Bruno asked, sounding willing to please.
“Yes.” My whole plan depended on it.
His gaze traveled to the other men, still sitting around talking. Occasionally, they glanced in our direction, but no one stared openly except the women. “I guess I can get the boys together to go hunt up some turkeys. If I do, will you bake me a pie?” he asked with a sly grin.
“Are you going to pick the blueberries?” I asked.
“Seems to me like a woman would be happy to pick a few blueberries to please her man.” His tone was bantering, but his expression was serious. I needed to tread carefully.
“A man courting a woman should be willing to go the extra mile to gain her favor,” I countered. Let him chew on that. I was at least twenty years younger than Bruno, but he needed to know I wasn’t a pushover. If he thought he could intimidate me...
“Is that what I’m doing? Courting you?” he asked in all seriousness as if the idea had never crossed his mind.
I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in my seat. “Are you saying I’m not worth the effort?”
Just because things had gone south with Terry and every freaking infected clan on the East Coast had rejected me didn’t mean I wasn’t aware of my worth. Money aside, I was a good woman and a good mother. A man would be damned lucky to have me.
He studied me. I stared back, eyebrow arched, waiting for his response.
Bruno slowly nodded. “You’re right. A beautiful woman like you deserves to be courted. You’ll have those blueberries, enough for two pies. I’ll bring back a turkey for the two of us to share along with whatever else we hunt up for the camp. Maybe we can share the pie and a meal in your motorhome when the boy goes to sleep?”
Seeing the hunger and lust in his gaze, I bit my tongue and counted to ten before responding. “We’ll see.”
Inviting Bruno into my motorhome would send a statement to the rest of the men in the camp. It indicated a level of trust I’d never give him. Anything could happen to me away from the prying eyes of others, and I would have brought it on myself.
I began speaking of possible dishes the women could prepare for our feast and if we should decorate the rarely used picnic area. I made myself sound bubbly and excited, and had the pleasure of watching Bruno’s eyes glaze over with boredom. It took ten long minutes, but he finally excused himself. “I need to organize the men if we’re going to have this feast.”
“Oh, all right,” I said, letting a hint of disappointment creep into my tone. Not too much, though. Not only wasn’t I that good of an actress, I didn’t want Bruno to change his mind and decide to stay.
“I’ll be looking forward to that dinner invitation,” Bruno said before strolling off.
Keeping my expression neutral and my mouth closed was one of the hardest things I’d ever done.
⬥⬥⬥⬥⬥
Dawn was a smear on the horizon. I sat inside my darkened motorhome, listening and watching as the men gathered for their hunt. I counted each one, making sure no one stayed behind to play sentry. A few women came out to see them off. They laughed and joked with each other, drinking the last of their hot beverages, and checking their packs and weapons. At a signal from Bruno, they slipped silently out of the camp.
The need to move was an itch beneath my skin, but I cautioned myself to wait. The women slowly returned to their dwellings. Still, I hesitated. After another hour of careful watch, I finally moved.
I’d already filled and locked my father’s gun safe in the Humvee with all his weapons. Hurrying as fast as I could, I loaded the last of our belongings in the cargo area, keeping below the window line as much as possible. After a final check of the motorhome to ensure I had everything, I woke Jock, dressed him quickly, and rushed him through his morning bathroom ritual.
When he finished, I hustled him to the door. Before opening it, I cautioned, “Remember, don’t make any noise.”
He nodded solemnly. I couldn’t help one last glance. Hopefully, I’d never see this place again. I opened the door and motioned Cujo and Jock out. Cujo moved like a dark shadow. Jock looked like a little soldier with his military-styled jacket and miniature combat boots. His travel pack was slung over one shoulder, and he held his beloved tablet in his hand.
The sky was a deep pink that heralded sunrise. No one was around as we made our way quickly to the vehicle. Still, my heart hammered and my nerves twitched as I waited for someone to catch us. The morning was cold enough that our breath misted as it came out of our mouths. The sun would gradually warm the day.
I tossed the two backpacks I toted onto the rear passenger seat. After easing the door closed, I opened the front passenger door and motioned Cujo inside. He leaped in and settled in his spot, a raised area between the two rear seats where he could stretch out. Jock climbed in behind him. I buckled him in and set his backpack on the floor between his legs within easy reach.
His door closed with a quiet snick. As I jogged around to the driver’s side, it began to rain. Not a drizzle but a sudden downpour. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” I cursed under my breath as I dove into the driver’s side. The weather forecast had said nothing about rain. Hunting in the cold and wet was miserable business. The hunters were sure to return.
Slamming the door closed, I strapped in. There wasn’t time for stealth. The engine purred to life with the touch of a button. The gas tank was full, and the electric battery was fully charged. I threw the Humvee into gear and with the headlights off, eased forward out of the narrow metal carport. My father’s Humvee was military grade, wide and low to the ground, in a faded hunter green that blended with the shadows. The oversized outdoor tires handled the rutted road like a tractor.
The dirt road leading to the highway was about three miles long and deeply forested on each side. At any time, one of the men could step out and catch me. I didn’t know what would happen if they did, but I wouldn’t put it past Bruno to shoot out a tire. If he held me in the camp against my will, no one would lift a finger to stop him.
In the time my father and I had been here, their quality of life had improved tremendously. My father was a natural leader and had spearheaded many projects. Before we’d arrived, the men had hunted and mostly sat around drinking beer. He’d gotten them to band together and make desperately needed repairs to the wood cabins. Because of him, they’d built a greenhouse that provided fresh vegetables year-round. Before us, they’d survived on meat and whatever they could forage in the forest.
The thought of what could happen if we were discovered fleeing had me pressing harder on the gas pedal. The Humvee bucked and rocked over ruts in the road. The rain turned the dirt into mud, causing me to lose traction several times. I hunched over the steering wheel, hands tightly gripping it in the ten and four o’clock position as I fought with the monster truck. My gaze constantly scanned the surrounding forest and the road behind, expecting at any moment to hear Bruno’s motorcycle come charging up behind me.
As I rounded the last curve, despite my fear I had one last pang of regret. I was abandoning the only home my son had known. It had to happen eventually, but now we truly were homeless. Living in the city wasn’t an option. I couldn’t just drive up to one of the noninfected settlements and ask to be taken in. It might be perfectly safe if I did, but more likely it would be a case of jumping out of the pan and into the fire. My lawyers and Mate Match were my only hope.
We neared the gate. The large faded sign read: Thank you for booking with Evergreen Campground. We hope you enjoyed your stay. It hadn’t occurred to me until just that moment that the gate could have been closed and locked. Then I would have been stuck. There may be another exit from the campground, but if so, I didn’t know where it was.
I stopped briefly to check for traffic–no more than a pause–before spinning out onto the asphalt road. The tension didn’t leave my shoulders until I’d been driving for fifteen minutes without pursuit. I finally risked a glance at Jock. He stared at me with wide eyes.
“You okay?” I asked.
He slowly nodded. “Pa-pop didn’t bounce like that.”
His comment startled a chuckle out of me. “No, baby, he didn’t. Momma was in a hurry.”
I flexed my fingers to ease my cramped knuckles. Despite not having the heat on, inside my father’s hunting jacket, I’d begun to sweat. Taking one hand off the steering wheel, I unzipped the stifling jacket that dwarfed my slender body. I’d gathered my hair into a high ponytail and covered it with one of my father’s caps. I couldn’t remove the cap since I’d donned it hoping to pass as a small man from a distance.
