“I’ve never heard of it.”
Simon paused at the shop door and peered into the inky gloom. “It’s awfully dark in there.”
“You think some Quee are holed up in there?”
Simon shrugged. “Possible, but I doubt it.” He gave her a knowing look. “No food.” He leaned his shoulder in to the large sliding door and pushed it open. As daylight flooded the gloomy interior, he listened for movement. “I think we’re good.”
“What does this thing look like?” she asked as she went to the right and sifted through the numerous tools laying around.
“Plastic, usually. Has two clamps coming off of it. One should be red, the other black.” He paused at a tall toolbox and pulled out the larger drawers. “About the size of a thick laptop computer.”
“Like this?” She held up a yellow plastic device.
Simon squinted in the low light and stepped closer. “I think that’s it.” He took the charger from her and set it on the bench. “There should be a display of some kind to tell you how much of a charge it has.”
He flipped a few switches then found the test button. He pressed it and grinned. “A little over half. I think this’ll work.”
Lana picked it up and headed for the door. “You’re wounded. I can carry it.”
Simon narrowed his gaze at her. “I’m not an invalid.”
Lana snorted. “More like in-valid.”
“Words hurt, ya know.” He fell into step behind her. “Do you know how to hook it up?”
“Red is positive.”
He gave her an impressed look. “How’d you know that?”
“I had a turd of a car that always needed to be jumped.” She pushed the memory out of her head. “Some things tend to stick.”
“Next thing you know, you’ll be telling me you were a mechanic.”
She shook her head and avoided making eye contact. “Actually, I had a shitty partner that thought every penny I earned was his. You learn to survive on less than nothing in situations like that.”
Simon feared he’d stepped on another touchy aspect of her life and opted to change the subject. “Once we get it started, the alternator will charge the battery for us.” He turned slowly and noted the small fuel tank suspended next to the shop. “We’ll pray that they still have gas, otherwise we’ll be draining the tanks of whatever we can find.”
He pulled the lever under the dash of the RV and she lifted the hood before attaching the battery pack. “Give it a shot.”
Simon took the key from her and slipped it into the ignition. With a twist, the engine came to life and he revved it a few times. A quick glance at the fuel gage had him seriously hoping that the fuel tanks at the shop were stocked.
Lana dropped the hood and slipped into the passenger side, dropping the charger to the floor. “Do we need gas?”
“Oh yeah.” He pulled the gear selector to D and eased the thirty-two footer out of its resting place. He smiled as the body rocked on the uneven gravel and pulled it as close to the gas tanks as he could get. “Let’s hope they paid their gas bill.”
He stood below the fuel tanks and rapped on the side with a scrap piece of metal. “I can’t tell.”
Lana pulled the nozzle from its resting place and squeezed the pump handle. “Nothing.”
“Hold up.” Simon reached under the large tank and twisted a steel knob, opening up the fuel. “Now try it.”
She squeezed the handle again and chuckled as gas spurted out. “There’s no power. How is this working?”
“Gravity fed.” He unscrewed the fuel cap and she inserted the nozzle. She set the handle to full and stepped back.
“I guess we wait.”
Simon nodded. “And pray that water hasn’t gotten in it.” He glanced under the tank at the glass water separator but had no idea what he was looking for. “Once we’re full, we can head north.”
“Why north?”
“The woods.” He gave her an easy smile. “I guess we’ll find out if bears shit in it.”
4
Hatcher kicked the few bits of trash into a pile then scooped it up into a trash bag. Vicky Sue watched as he picked through the house, checking for food, water, anything that might be of use.
“There’s a rifle missing from the gun cabinet,” she stated flatly.
Hatcher didn’t look up as he tied off the garbage bag. “Probably what he used on us.” He tossed the bag to the corner of the dining room near the garage door then slapped his hands together, brushing dirt from them. He looked up at her and sighed. “Should I ask how you know something is missing from here?”
Vicky shot him a smug grin. “The dust.” She crossed her arms and gave him a ‘duh’ look. “I guess it was the maid’s month off.”
Hatcher plopped onto the overstuffed couch and nodded to himself. “This will do.”
“For what?”
He raised a brow at her. “I’m gonna stay here. If Simon comes back, I’ll deal with him.”
“Why on earth would he return here?”
Hatcher cracked a grin. “Simon’s stupid. Stupid criminals always return to the scene of the crime.”
Vicky rolled her eyes. “You watched one too many movies as a kid, Danny.” She stepped around his feet and reached for the door. “If you’re claiming this house, you might want to fix your front gate. I hear the homeowners association is a real bitch about yard maintenance.”
“Ha, ha, ha,” Hatcher shot back dryly. “Let Will know that I’m hunkering here for the night. If he needs me, I’ll check the radio every hour on the hour.”
She leaned against the door jamb and shook her finger at him. “What if Simon does come back and catches you asleep?”
Hatcher shook his finger back at her. “I won’t be.”
She pushed off the door jamb. “I think you’re being stupid. He could return with more of his Zulu army.”
Hatcher glanced out the front window and slowly shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think too many have been exposed to the cure.” He turned back to
