“If there’s people around here, they’re doing a good job of hiding,” True surmised.
“Yeah. I would’ve spray painted a message, but everything is iced over. We’ll have to come back at some point and try to find them.”
“When is the next resupply mission to Missouri?” True asked. “I imagine Clay needs some diesel and company. The man has to be lonely.”
Melvin shrugged his shoulders. “Probably. He’s got to be lonely out there. If it weren’t for the fact that he killed someone, I’d say let’s go get him and bring him home.”
True didn’t answer. Honestly, he had liked Dalton, the man Clay had killed, so he wasn’t so sure he liked the man, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
They rode several minutes in silence. Melvin proceeded slowly and cautiously. It was taxing having to pay such careful attention, but it was necessary. Besides, it was second nature to Melvin now.
The cab of the truck was finally warm enough for Melvin to turn the fan to a lower setting. True took his jacket off and draped it across his legs before resting his rifle on top. Melvin had the dashboard lights blacked out, but he could see Dong’s head lolling.
“The little man is out cold,” Melvin said. “I’ll keep an eye on him if you want to get some shuteye.”
“You gonna drive all night?” True asked.
“For a little while. I’m too keyed up to sleep right now and I can’t imagine anyone will be outside in this cold. It’s got to be in the single-digits.”
“Alright, you get tired, wake me up and I’ll drive. Watch the little man, he might be playing ‘possum’.”
Melvin chuckled and glanced over at Dong, who had not stirred in several minutes. “You got it, bro.”
True was asleep within minutes, if not seconds. Melvin offered a small, silent prayer of thanks for getting them through another day unscathed and asked the Lord for safe travels back to Mount Weather. He knew True was an atheist, but even so he added him in his prayer.
Finishing, he glanced again at Dong, whose head was leaning against the door window. He was breathing deeply. It was going to be interesting to hear what he had to say, if they could find a way to adequately communicate. He imagined it was going to fall to Grace and Garret to interview him. With their father dead and Zach gone, they were probably the two smartest people at Mount Weather and had taken up a lot of Zach’s work.
Melvin decided that tomorrow, when he’d rested up, he was going to try to interview Dong himself and see what kind of information he could get out of him. If there was a full-fledged Chinese invasion in the works, the people in the surrounding communities, and especially Oak Ridge would need that info ASAP, and frankly he doubted the new president and his lackey, William Rhinehart, would relay the info.
He glanced at the clock. Zero-two-hundred, and they were only a few miles outside of the Cincinnati city limits. Many miles to go. Yep, it was going to be a long drive back. A little over five hundred miles. And the roads were rough. Little did he know it at that moment, but it was going to take a few days of slow driving, two flat tires, and at least one major detour before they’d see home again.
Chapter 24 – Team Fred
Nikki had slept on the den couch. It was part of an expensive set of leather furniture Fred had found in a furniture store. She awoke to the noise of Fred throwing a log on the fire. He turned and saw her staring at him.
“I got the potbelly in the kitchen going. It’ll be hot enough for tea in about ten minutes. We leave in thirty.”
Nikki sat up and stretched. Fred saw she had stripped down to a tee shirt and underwear. Her body was lean and taut, and the cool air promptly made her nipples erect. He quickly turned away and hurried into the kitchen. Nikki joined him a moment later, fully dressed in jeans and a hunter green thermal top over the tee shirt. She had not yet put her boots on, and Fred noticed a pair of thick, hand-knitted socks on her feet. Fred gave one of his small nods, poured them two mugs of tea and handed one to her.
“Have a seat and I’ll fix some breakfast.”
She sat, sipped her tea, and watched as Fred cooked up eggs and bacon. They ate in silence. Nikki was not much of a morning person and it appeared to her Fred wasn’t interested in talking anyway. After finishing, she helped him clean up their mess. Finishing, he pointed to some five-gallon jugs sitting along the wall. They were plastic, blue in color, and shaped like rectangular cubes with integrated handles on top.
“That’s our water for us and the horses. How much does water weigh per gallon?”
She bit her lower lip in thought. “Um…”
“A little over eight pounds per gallon,” Fred said. “Each jug is full, so they weigh about forty-two pounds, that’s counting the jug. Can you carry those two jugs to the truck?”
Fred didn’t wait for her to answer. He picked up two of them and walked out. Nikki grabbed the other two jugs and followed. She had to set them down to rest her arms a few times, but she eventually made it to the barn. Fred was brushing out a horse when she entered. She set the jugs down and rubbed her aching hands.
“Get the truck started,” he directed.
Nikki frowned, wondering why he couldn’t start it himself. She thought maybe he wanted to see if she knew how, so she didn’t argue and hopped up in the driver’s seat. It took two tries before the diesel engine chugged to life. She got out and jogged back to the house, returning a moment later with both her backpack and saddle bags. Setting them down,