She sighed heavily then turned and sat next to him. “Where are we going to go?”
Simon shrugged. “I thought maybe we’d head to the woods for a while. Let things calm down. Then maybe we head north and search for a new place that’s all our own.”
She huffed and glanced around the tiny RV. “What if I don’t want to go to the woods?”
He shrugged again. “Then we don’t. Just tell me where you want to go and we’ll do it.”
She lowered her head. “I don’t care if we go to the woods.” She glanced at him. “I just don’t want to have to worry about people like the Cagers.”
Simon slipped his good arm around her. “Babe, the odds are that there are tons of Quee out there waking up, and who knows how many that didn’t get the memo and are still…Quee.” He pulled her to him and caressed her arm. “Either way, I’d like to head someplace in the middle of nowhere and wait for the fallout to settle. Then we come back to civilization and see how things are doing.”
“But not here.” It was a statement, not a question.
He shook his head. “As far away from the Cagers as I can get us.”
She nodded slightly. “And we can’t get the big RV because it’s too big, right?”
“Correct.”
She glanced out the window at some of the other, smaller RVs. “Can we look at something just a little bigger than this?”
Simon nodded. “Whatever you want.”
She came to her feet and walked the two and a half steps to the door. “This might work for an overnighter, but I can’t live in this for any length of time.”
“You’re the boss,” Simon said. He added softly, “If the missus ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.”
3
Hatcher slowly approached the house that Simon had escaped from with Vicky in tow. He stepped through the wreckage of the front gate and into the garage. With his pistol at the ready, he gently pushed the door open and stepped inside. Vicky followed a few paces behind.
He really didn’t expect Simon to return, but he felt it was better to err on the side of caution.
He walked through the house, noting the clothes scattered about and the bits of food left sitting out. He also noted that in the trash was blood soaked gauze and tape. Using a plastic fork, he raised the old bandages to the window and peered at the stains. “He’s got an infection.”
He held the gauze out and Vicky nodded. “He could be septic. It would be impossible to tell without seeing him in person.”
Hatcher dropped the gauze back in the trash and stood to his full height. “If we see him again, you can do the autopsy.”
Vicky said nothing as he continued to search the house. Every time he walked by the end of the couch, he felt a cold shiver. “I keep seeing Buck laying there and…” he turned angry eyes to his sister. “I thought the kid was dead.”
“He was fortunate that all he got was a lump to the head.”
Hatcher holstered his pistol and clenched his hands into fists. “Why does this piss me off so much? I know that Buck is okay, that he’ll be fine, but the whole situation has my blood boiling.”
Vicky stepped closer and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Because you feel responsible for everybody. You told Buck not to go, but he did anyway.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Against your direct order.”
Hatcher shook his head. “That’s not what has me pissed.” He turned and faced her, doing his best to get his emotions under control. “We had Simon. Dead to rights. He spit booze in my eyes to escape,” Hatcher snorted with derision. “I should have killed him when we first got our hands on him.”
“Danny, you couldn’t have foreseen any of this.”
“I should have known. I’ve seen enough assholes just like him over the years.” He huffed as he tried to force himself to calm down. “I should have put a bullet in his head rather than hope to redeem him.”
“Some people can’t be redeemed.”
Hatcher turned slowly to her and shook his head. “Why would I say that?” He leaned against the back of the couch and his mind was deep in thought. “I wasn’t trying to redeem him.”
“What are you saying?”
“Roger and I had him cornered in his garage.” He rubbed at his chin as the memories came back more clearly. “I had him at gunpoint and was about to finish him.” He looked up at Vicky, his face a mask of consternation. “I was going to kill him.”
“Too bad you missed.”
Hatcher scoffed. “I never got a chance to fire. Simon got the drop on me, cracked me in my ribs.” He rubbed at them, remembering how hard it was to breathe.
“So you get him next time.”
Hatcher sobered, snapping from his trip down memory lane. “If there is a next time.” He stepped away from the couch and turned to her. “I can’t blame him for shooting at us. Odds are, he’s in the wind.”
“Unless he’s still as batshit crazy as he used to be. Then he’s holed up somewhere, plotting his next attack.”
Hatcher nodded slowly, his eyes traveling to the open front windows. “He could have killed us.” He swallowed hard. “All of us.”
“But he didn’t.”
“No, he didn’t.” Hatcher rubbed at his chin. “But why would I say that I was trying to redeem him?” He turned to her, his face serious. “For a moment there, I was convinced that the last time I saw him, I was trying to…save him.”
“You were trying to save all of us by killing him.” She sighed and met his gaze. “Danny, some people just need killing.”
“Maybe.” He turned slowly and peered through the front window, the one Simon had shot through. “But he had his chance and didn’t take it.
