My stomach grumbled. I reached across the table and grabbed the mustard packets from the hotplate. They weren’t frozen anymore, but when I squeezed them, the mustard came out like a slushy. That didn’t stop me, however. I dipped my pretzels and gobbled them up almost as greedily as Chewy had gobbled the jerky-Skittle concoction.
“It does feel like a lot longer than that,” Ell agreed. “The whole thing, I mean—the snow, the monsters, the end of the world. Years instead of months.”
“That it does,” Ramsey agreed. Unlike Stone, he had no qualms about digging into his hot dog. He lifted it from his plate and chomped down three-quarters of it in one bite. After swallowing loudly, he set the remaining piece on the floor for Chewy, who scarfed it down. He hung around for more, his tail wagging furiously.
“Probably just earned yourself a new friend,” I said, nodding toward the dog.
“Good, I need one.”
Didn’t we all?
“So what brought you here?” Ell asked.
“Luck, I guess,” Ramsey said. “That, and I didn’t think I could drag around all the car batteries anymore. I was afraid my arms was gonna pop outta their sockets.” He chuckled, staring off into the background as he probably pictured that.
“You do know how close you are to a sanctuary, don’t you?” Stone said, almost mockingly.
Ramsey raised his eyebrows. “The City. Yeah, I know it. Know it too well, you might say.”
Across the table, Mia had been crunching her Skittles, but she stopped as soon as Ramsey finished talking. Her cheeks blanched, and her eyes simultaneously drooped and widened, a combination I thought impossible.
“Is it—is it gone?”
Ramsey shrugged. “Depends what you mean by gone.”
We examined him, waiting for an elaboration. As we did this, the color slowly reappeared on Mia’s face, a sure sign that anger was on the horizon.
Thou shalt not test the patience of a pregnant woman.
“I mean,” Mia snarled, “is the fuckin’ place still there or not? Is it still operational? Still safe?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! No need to bare them fangs, miss. I ain’t know it was such a touchy subject to ya.” Ramsey’s gaze fell on Mia’s belly, where her hands rested, bunched into fists. “Oh…I get it now. You’re tryin’ to have your little one in the City, ain’t ya?”
“Wow, so observant,” Stone said, rolling his eyes. “You must’ve been Sherlock Holmes in your past life.”
“Sherlock’s a fictional character, Stone,” Ell said.
“He probably doesn’t know that.”
“I know that, buddy,” Ramsey said. “I read damn near all of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s work when I was stationed in Kansas. Fuck all to do out there. Favorite one was about the hound in Baskerville.”
Stone jerked his head back. “You’re serious?”
“Yeah, man. I love me a good mystery.”
“Let’s stay on topic here,” Mia interrupted. “Ignore this douchebag, and tell me what the hell you’re talking about, dude.”
“Excuse them,” Ell said as she leaned forward and planted both hands on the table, one on each side of her empty, ketchup-stained plate. “A politer translation would be: is there anyone there who can deliver this baby?”
“‘Cause I’m one bad sneeze away from poppin’ her out and simultaneously paintin’ the walls with strawberry jam,” Mia said.
And…there went my appetite.
“Jesus Christ, Mia,” Stone said. “Do you want us all to throw up?”
Ramsey took a deep breath, smiled somberly. “Well, the City ain’t like it used to be, but there’s a few people who could help ya out. In fact, when I lived on the inside, I saw a couple pregnant chicks go into the medical building with a big ol’ belly and come out with a little bundle of joy. You’ll want Sharon Hart, if you can. Pretty blonde gal with green eyes so bright you can’t miss ‘em. Doc Ritchie ain’t bad for a second choice, but he don’t have no bedside manner, and I imagine when you’re about to…do that, you want everyone treatin’ you right-like.”
Ell visibly relaxed, but Mia remained skeptical, hands still bunched into fists, face not as scarlet as before, though still red.
“Wait,” I said, “you lived there?”
“I did,” Ramsey said. “Pretty much from the beginning of this circus.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t think y’all wanna know.”
“Bro,” Stone said, “you better fuckin’ tell us. If you haven’t noticed”—he nodded to Mia—“we’re kinda in a sticky situation here. We don’t have time for games.”
He struck out for the rifle resting by my side. The sudden movement caught me by surprise, and honestly scared me a little. Before I could even raise my hand, Stone had the muzzle aimed in Ramsey’s face.
“If you wanna play games, Ramsey, then I’ll shoot you right here on the spot, and it’ll be game over for you, my friend.”
Mia, Ell, and Chewy reflexively flinched. I didn’t; I just stared at my best friend in disbelief, wondering what the hell had gotten into him. Ramsey stared at him too, but in a nonchalant, relaxed manner. This was a man who’d seen the wrong end of a gun many times before, I thought.
“Stone!” Ell snapped. “Just because it’s the end of the world doesn’t mean you get to be a complete—”
“Dickbag,” Mia finished for her.
“Yeah, a dickbag.”
Stone ignored them, and the staring contest continued. Whereas Stone was serious, all business, Ramsey’s lips curled into a smile. He said, “Hey, hey, no harm, no foul. I get it, I understand the mistrust, I do. You’re probably right to not trust me. I wouldn’t trust my ass either, lookin’ the way I do now.”
“Put yourself in our shoes. Running at us while you’re blasting off into the sky isn’t exactly a great first impression,” Stone said.
“Stop it!” Ell shouted. “Stop!”
Stone snarled, his nostrils flared. He showed no signs of putting down the weapon.
“Dude…” I said, “this is really not cool.”
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes. “I’m stepping up, Grady. Doing what you should’ve done a long time ago.”
His words stung a bit, but I didn’t take them
