He let it happen. They had hooked up the first night she had come back to Marcus Hook to live. There was the usual socializing after dinner. The Fitzgeralds had brought supplies from Mount Weather, including a few five-gallon jugs of homemade wine. And the marijuana. There was a lot of marijuana use. Too many people relied on it to self-medicate, which he supposed was better than the dozens of antidepressants people were addicted to, back before.
Johnny G hated marijuana and was not much of a wine drinker. Back before, he preferred single malt Scotch or Finnish vodka. The more expensive the better. Tonight, he was sitting off to himself, sipping a glass of tomato juice spiced with a generous amount of black pepper, irritated at the amount of smoke in the air. He considered refreshing his drink and going to his room when Riley walked over, carrying a backpack.
“You want some company?” she had asked.
“Sure,” he replied without too much enthusiasm.
If she noticed his reticence, she didn’t act like it. She put the backpack on the floor under the table and pulled out a bottle of Ketel One vodka before sitting. “I’ve heard it goes pretty good with tomato juice.”
Johnny G stared at the bottle with its distinctive diagonal scratch on the label. It was almost half full. It was full and still had the seal intact when he gave it to Rochelle VanAllen as a victory present after the election. He didn’t want to. The fact was, he didn’t like her. She was a big talker who never seemed to be around when the work crews were formed. But, as Roscoe pointed out, she was the new president and they needed to play the political game. Riley saw him pointedly staring at the bottle, perhaps sensing what he was thinking.
“Dad said you have a lot in common with us. Is he wrong?”
Johnny G stared a moment longer before grabbing the bottle and poured a liberal amount into his glass of tomato juice. It would have been nice to have some tabasco sauce to add to it, but he hadn’t any of that in years. He held the glass up in a mock toast.
“He’s not wrong,” Johnny G replied.
They ended up in bed after the bottle went dry.
That was only a week ago. He thought of that night often. Did Trader Joe direct his daughter to seduce him, or was it solely her idea? He didn’t know, and eventually he decided he didn’t care. The sex was great, and she was a pleasant conversationalist, even if she did have a rather peculiar perspective of how life should be.
When the president was reported missing, he sent Jimbo and a couple of others to look for them. They’d driven thirty miles out and back with no success. Their deaths were not made official until two days later, but Johnny G knew that night what their fate was, and he knew the Fitzgeralds were responsible.
He was undecided about what to do with this knowledge. There were pros and cons on either side, and he debated each point to himself. After much consideration, he decided to keep quiet for the time being. Before doing anything, he was going to check out this trading post they were talking about.
Chapter 20 – Melvin and True
It was cold. Within the last hour the temperature seemed to have dropped several degrees. The two men, crouching back in the shadows of the old business, spoke in whispers.
“The wind is picking up,” True whispered. “Another front is moving in I’m thinking.”
“Yeah,” Melvin whispered back.
He knew what True was inferring. If more snow was coming, travelling back home was going to be difficult. He pulled his shemagh scarf tighter around his neck and face. They did not dare risk a fire. Especially not now.
They had left Mount Weather, after devising a mission plan. They were going to take the normal route to Louisiana, but rather than travelling the entire route, they were going to pick a spot to intercept these interlopers, if they were indeed heading east. They settled on Cincinnati.
Why Cincinnati? According to Clay’s report, the alleged soldiers had disembarked from a paddle boat on the east side of the Mississippi River and had headed east on foot. Melvin and True figured they’d walk anywhere from ten to twelve miles a day. Cincinnati was a good intercept point. It was five hundred miles from Mount Weather, which was feasible for the men if they hauled one of their fuel trailers with them.
The Melvin and True team arrived in the city a little over thirteen hours after leaving Mount Weather. The blanket of snow hid the numerous potholes, which forced them to drive slowly, but the snow was also an excellent indicator of any traffic, whether it was animal, vehicle, human, or zed. They spotted a lot of animal tracks but little else until they reached the outskirts of Columbus. That is when they began seeing multiple footprints. The nature of the tracks indicated zeds rather than humans. A rough estimate put them in the dozens.
But they did not see them.
“They’re hiding good,” True remarked. Melvin agreed and speculated that these new zeds were clever enough to hide from humans until they decided to attack. He reminded himself to notate that observation in the mission report.
It was dark when they arrived in Columbus and they decided to stop for the night. They found a used car lot on National Pike with several vehicles still in the lot. The two men checked the area and, finding it clear of any hostiles, parked the truck amongst some other vehicles and bedded down in the office. Their sleep was not interrupted, and they were back on the road as the sun was coming up.
They’d
