Fred shrugged. “They said it had been abandoned. Found it in a ditch still running. Not a bad bunch of guys... young and stupid, but at least they turned the vehicles in when they reached Brayburne.”
Hayden pictured the soldier they’d spoken to in town—the one that had given them directions to the supply tent. Then he remembered the idiot that had urinated onto the burning debris of a blown up car. He saw his horse, riddled with bullet holes, lying in the muddy front yard of Elton MacDonald’s farm.
“These guys... most of them are still in Brayburne?”
“Well, yeah. Where the hell else would they go? Like I said, they’re not a bad bunch. They even offered to help out, so command put them uniforms and they got field commissions.”
“You ask a lot of stupid questions,” Jeffrey said. “Are we going for that car of yours or not?”
Caitlan climbed into the backseat with Hayden. She could see by the sunken look on his face that his plans had been drastically altered—or perhaps it was something else? She leaned close to him, pretending to search for a seatbelt, and whispered in his ear. “This is still on. You take the big one when we get the chance, I’ll handle rat-face.”
They set away from Brayburne, checking in and getting clearance with two more guards on the eastern end of town. Fred turned in his seat, planted his thick forearm on the bench seat’s cracked upholstery, and started talking to the new arrivals. “An Audi, hey? I had an ’03 once, the fenders were rusted right through, but that thing never broke down. Good mileage.”
Caitlan stared out her window. “What happened to it?”
“My nagging wife made me trade it in on a mini-van.”
“Yeah... women. We’re all bitches, aren’t we?”
“I never said that.” Fred looked away from Caitlan and stared at Sergeant Jeffrey. He was laughing. “You think that’s funny? At least I had a wife. What was your excuse, Sparky?”
Jeffrey glared at him. “Do not call me that. I’m ranking officer here.”
“Why do you call him Sparky?” Hayden asked.
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to say.” Fred held his hands up in mock fear. “Take my advice, though... Do not piss Sparky—I mean Sergeant Fartel Jeffrey off.”
The sergeant slammed on the car’s brakes. “How many fucking times have I told you to never use my first name? How many fucking times?” Jeffrey put the Buick into park and thrust his finger inches from the bigger man’s face. “All you fucking assholes think you’re so goddamned fucking funny!” A pulsing vein had appeared at the center of his forehead and a line of spit was stuck to his chin.
Fred grinned into the backseat. “See what I mean? We call him Sparky for that temper of his—one little spark is all it takes.”
“I’m reporting this when we get back.” The sergeant started driving again. “I’m sick of this shit... the disrespect... the total disregard of rank. Just because a bunch of bombs wiped out almost everything, doesn’t give you or any of those other assholes the right to talk to me like that. I’m fucking telling as soon as we get back. You’ll see.”
No one else said a word for the next five minutes as Fartel drove and threatened. Fred grinned at Caitlan and Hayden with raised eyebrows the entire way. The Audi was still parked on the shoulder of the highway. Michael and Amanda were sitting on the hood with Nicholas squeezed between them.
Hayden saw Angela appear from around the back end. She made her way to the front passenger side and started opening the door. Hayden shook his head as they exited the Buick. No, don’t go for the gun, not yet.
“Three rug rats,” Fartel observed as he went to look the Audi over. “Glad to see they’re good and healthy. They’ll be plenty to keep them busy in Brayburne.”
Hayden introduced them to the two soldiers and explained the situation. The twins nodded glumly, slid off the car, planted their hands in the pockets of their track pants, and stared at the ground. Nicholas remained on the hood, pushing an empty water back and forth between his legs. He looked at Jeffrey expectantly. “You got hotdogs and ice cream there?”
The sergeant was running his fingers along the car, walking slowly around it. “No hotdogs, kid. And all the ice cream was eaten in the first week. You’ll have to settle for whatever rations are provided.” The little boy looked disappointed, and went back to his bottle game. Jeffrey ended his walk-around inspection of the Audi with a kick to the front tire. Caitlan made a grunting sound. It was how most ignorant people judged a car’s merit. He glared at her. “This vehicle is actually yours? You paid with real money?”
Hayden braced for the inevitable attack. She would break his nose for that, and maybe worse. Caitlan simply nodded. “The money seemed real enough to the dealer... Sergeant.”
She’d almost called him Sparky. Or Fartel. Either one would have sent him into a rage.
Jeffrey nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, Fred, let’s get her fuelled up.”
The big guard went to the back of the Buick. Jeffrey threw him the keys and he opened the trunk. He leaned in to grab one of the four full gas containers, and Hayden nodded to Caitlan and Angela simultaneously.
Caitlan smiled the biggest smile Hayden had ever seen. “Hey, Sparky... you buck-toothed little cocksucker. Get your greasy fingers off my car.”
“What... did... you... say to me?”
Hayden went and stood behind Fred who was still bent over inside the trunk. “You need a hand?”
“Damned cap’s stuck on the underside. I can manage.” He yanked at the container and it came free. Just before his head was clear, Hayden slammed the trunk lid down. The edge of it caught the back of the man’s neck. The lid
