She set off toward the long rows of steel buildings. He remained idle as she walked toward them, and a couple times she stole glances back over her shoulder. Dust drifted in hypnotizing patterns across the dry ground, and each step kicked up fine brown dirt. She was almost to the first building, a shed that had once been painted red, when she heard the unmistakable cocking of a gun, a sound she’d become all too familiar with.
“Stay right there,” came a gruff voice from around the corner. She came to a halt, and a man walked into view holding a huge firearm with a double barrel.
He was the oldest person she’d ever seen. He walked slightly bent, and wore dusty overalls over a blue button-down shirt so worn she could see his bony elbows through the fabric. The knees had also worn through, and he wore some kind of red thermal layer underneath. A tuft of white hair stood up atop his head, while his red-rimmed blue eyes blinked at her in the bright sun. He stared at her with a face so pale it looked like parchment stretched over bone. She held out her hands, showing she was unarmed.
“I need your help.”
“Is that so?” He took her in, cocking his head to the side.
“I was told you might be able to fly me somewhere.”
“Firehawk told you that?” He looked toward the solar car, where Rowan waited.
“You know him?”
“In a way. Know his kind.”
She remembered what Rowan had said about the rough history with the Badlanders. “I really need your help.”
“Why’s that?”
“I’m trying to save the world.”
He cracked a smirk, and lowered his gun a bit. “The world, eh?”
She nodded. “That’s right.”
“No small task.”
Now she cracked a slight smile. “No, sir.”
“Sir!” He lowered the gun some more. “Haven’t been called that in well . . . ever.”
He surveyed her tool bag and dirty clothes. “What do you want to save the world from?”
She looked up at the sky, a cloudless blue slate overhead, from which the sun beat down on them. “An asteroid.”
He lowered the gun all the way. “How’s that?”
“A giant space rock is headed this way.”
“And how do you propose to save the world from a giant space rock?”
“I don’t know. But I’m trying to find the people who might. “
He arched his eyebrows. “The Rovers?”
Hope blossomed within her. “Yes.”
“Don’t know where they are.”
“I’ve got a lead,” she said, “if you’d be kind enough to take me. They’re leaving in a couple days, and I won’t make it by car.”
He lifted his gun, this time resting the barrel on his shoulder, holding the stock in the crook of his arm. “Well, I guess I’ve flown for less.”
She beamed, “So you’ll help me?”
He scratched his head. “Oh, hell. I don’t see why not. Bored out of my mind. Where they at?”
She pulled out her PRD and approached. He eyed her suspiciously but didn’t back away. She brought up the map, the arrow blinking where Willoughby had said the Rovers would be.
He ran his hand over the rough stubble on his cheek. “That’s a fair distance. Have to refuel. More than once, at that.”
“But you can do it?”
He took the PRD into his arthritic hands, waving his finger over the floating display to see more of the map. “I think so.”
Her hope was now a garden. She might actually have a chance at meeting with the Rovers before they moved to some unknown destination. They’d know what to do about the asteroid, and her journey would be complete. She couldn’t believe it. It felt like another life, another her, who had crawled down into that dark basement and discovered the ancient lab down there.
He handed back the PRD. “How long we got?”
“Until what?”
He looked up. “Until it hits?”
The thought brought her back to the present. “Two months before the first fragment hits, followed by two more. A year until the big one arrives, and it’s a planet killer.”
“Not much time.”
“The Rovers will know what to do.”
“How do even you know about this?”
“I found an old building laden with ancient information. The data predicted when it would hit. Pieces of it already have.”
“And did they stop it back then?”
She shook her head. “No. It did a lot of damage. But the imminent chunks are much bigger. They’ll wipe out everything.”
“And you think the Rovers can do now what people back then couldn’t?”
“I have to believe that.”
He licked his finger and held it up in the wind. Cupping his hands over his eyes, he gazed to the end of the runway. “Storm’s coming. I think we can beat it if you’re ready to go now.”
“I am.” She looked back to where Rowan had parked. He was still there. Her stomach gnawed on itself.
“Let me do some preflight stuff. Got some hot chocolate if you want.”
“Hot chocolate?” She’d never heard of it.
“Best kind east of the Mississippi.” He held out his hand. “I’m Gordon, by the way.”
She shook it, thinking of Rowan’s nickname for her. “H.”
He eyed her. “Just H?”
She nodded.
Then he turned and approached the shed. She followed. She was so close to the Rovers that every molecule in her being thrummed. She had to reach them. Everything depended on it.
Inside the shed she saw a big, beautiful red machine resting in its center. Two wings reached out from either side, and a long blade was mounted on its nose. Gordon walked over to a small cabinet above a workbench and pulled down two chipped ceramic mugs. He spooned some dark brown powder into each.
A pot of water boiled on a small hot plate. He poured some into each cup. Reaching in with a spoon, he stirred both, then smiled. “Here you go. Hot chocolate.”
She walked over and took the proffered cup, smelling it first. It was hands-down the best thing she’d smelled in her entire life. She smiled. “Wow.”
“Tastes even
