“Are you sure? It could put the town in danger if the Marines discover what we’re up to.” That was Micah all over. Always the protector.
Albie waved her hand airily. “Don’t you worry, young man. This town is used to danger. We’ve been living on the edge for quite some time now and we thrive on it. Hank can get you set up at the church. We’ll introduce you around later tonight. Everybody stops by after dark.”
Rain restrained a smile over Albie calling Micah a young man. After all, he was nearly as old as Albie in actual years, though he didn’t even look thirty.
“Come on then, you two. Let’s get to gettin’.” Hank stood up and drained the last of his beer before heading to the door. A quick glance outside to make sure it was clear and he motioned at them to follow.
With a wave at Albie, they slipped out after him. They followed Hank down the street to a ramshackle old house. The thing looked ready to fall apart, but Hank hurried around behind the house and onto the back porch. It was either follow him or stand on the street looking like idiots.
The interior of the house was hot and dusty. Odd shapes loomed out the darkness. Rain realized the shapes were sheets draped over furniture. She’d seen other houses like it in her travels. The owners, thinking they’d return one day, had carefully preserved their precious stuff before fleeing for their lives. Probably all that precious stuff had rats living in it by now, and she doubted any of the owners had ever returned.
Hank led them through a couple of rooms and then down into a cellar. He fiddled with something and a lantern flared to life illuminating the large room.
Unlike the upstairs of the house, the cellar was pristine. Someone had gone to the trouble of painting the floor, walls and ceiling in a rich cream color. Even stranger, it was kept clean, completely free of the grime and cobwebs in the rest of the house. The reason was obvious; the place was some sort of storage facility for the town.
Crates of canned goods and bottled water lined two of the walls, stacked from floor to ceiling. Home-canned foods, dried goods and medicines filled shelving units in the center of the room. Racks of clothing draped in plastic and giant tubs filled with blankets and pillows were crammed against another wall.
“Wow.” Rain couldn’t think of anything else to say. It made their storerooms back at the compound look pathetic.
“Now let’s see if we can find you two some decent bedding.” Hank poked through a couple of the tubs before coming up with some pillows and an armload of blankets and sheets. He thrust them at Micah and Rain then led them back up the stairs and into the backyard.
The yard had likely once been covered in thick, lush grass. Now it was covered in dry, dead grass, thistles and some kind of pricker bush. Hank led them to the back fence where he removed a section so they could duck through. On the other side was the church.
The basement of the church had been converted into classrooms sometime in the distant past. Each tiny, windowless room covered in carpet and painted in bright colors, complete with chalk boards and the occasional Bible picture.
“Back when the Wars started, we turned this place into a sort of communal hostel until the worst of it was over.” Hank showed them to a room with a double bed, plastic carefully wrapped around the mattress to keep it safe from dust and vermin. The cupboards would have originally been stocked with Sunday school materials, but now held candles, matches, bottles of water, and other necessary supplies.
“When we spread out we left it as-is. Just in case. Should be fairly comfortable. The outhouse is ‘round back. Be sure and let us know if you need anything else.” Hank left them to get settled, in reminding them to stop by the bar after dark for a bite to eat and a chance to meet the rest of the town.
They got down to business, lighting candles so they could see before removing the plastic from the mattress and making up the bed. Micah stored their packs in the cupboard after taking out what was needed.
It was a cozy place. Quiet. Secluded. Secure. Rain glanced at the bed. Then over at Micah.
“You know,” he said, moving toward her, “it’s a least an hour before dinner.”
She grinned. “Think that’s enough time?”
IT HAD BEEN ALMOST enough time. Rain felt her body heat, remembering their particularly enthusiastic lovemaking.
They were just a little late arriving back at the bar which was already crowded with people. It was an interesting group with a much larger age range than Sanctuary. Back at the compound there weren’t many people who remembered the Before. Here she’d bet at least half of them did.
“You alright there, Rain?” Albie gave her a knowing look.
“Um, yeah. Thanks, Albie.”
Albie chuckled. “Quite a tasty specimen you got there. If I was twenty years younger I’d give you a run for your money. Bet he’s hell on wheels in bed.”
Rain tried to keep the shocked look off her face. Thank goodness the bar was dim and Albie was distracted. “Good thing for me, I guess.”
Albie grabbed her arm. “Come on. I want you to meet Dave Dugan.”
“The drunk and the liar?”
“Wish I hadn’t of said that,” Albie sighed. “It sure wasn’t Christian of me. And while he may be a drunk, he ain’t a liar. Guess you proved that. Micah, why don’t you go have a chat with Hank? Dave ain’t exactly comfortable around you military types.”
“Sure thing, Albie.” He winked at Rain before
