fuel to get to the island off the coast of California, the nuclear sub needed critical maintenance and would have to be scuttled, their food was gone and they didn’t have the small arms ammo to mount a raid on the massively overpopulated mainland. He had never considered refusing aide although the mayor and members of the city council had. The plan was to reduce the numbers on the island so it could be self-sustaining and disseminate the rest of the men and women to the various walled cities.

He crumpled the paper and tossed it aside. They needed able bodied men. With the expansion of the dairy farm and clearing the woods outside the gates to plant crops, they were already woefully undermanned. They needed more mechanics. More truck drivers. More militia to man the walls and escort the deliveries between towns. The SS sisters had a few apprentices but there would be medics in the group that could help lighten their load. Cascade needed fishermen and lumberjacks. Tombstone wanted to start planting crops and needed hands to till the soil and help with the harvest. Blackfoot was trying to relocate solar panel farms closer to their town and needed every hand they could hire.

“So what’s your beef, anyway?” Griz asked as he admired his handiwork, turned it this way and that checking for imperfections. “You worried about some pollywog gonna steal your girlfriend away?”

“No,” Bridget said. “We’re worried about you two sneaking out and not taking us.”

“Yeah.” Scratch agreed. “Like last time. You’re taking a train, aren’t you? Slippery Jim said one is getting geared up for something. He said Tommy is adding a bigger blade up front and putting a bunch of bus seats in some of the rail cars.”

“I swear, it’s impossible to keep anything quiet in this town.” Gunny grumbled “How does that kid know so much? I ought to put him on the payroll so I’ll know what Bastille is going to blindside me with next.”

“So, when we leaving?” Bridget asked.

“Who said anything about taking you clowns?” Griz asked as he and Gunny both reassembled the weapons and checked the slide action at the same time.

“We’re the presidential protection squad.” Scratch said. “Where he goes, we go.”

“The only thing he needs protecting from is you idiots.” Griz said. “And put that back!”

Scratch had a box of ammo in his good hand and was trying to slyly slip it into his pocket.

“We’re leaving in the morning.” Gunny said as he holstered his gun. “You lot get your gear loaded; we roll at dawn.”

“So early?” Hollywood complained. “You know I need my beauty sleep.”

“Nobody’s gonna disagree with you there.” Stabby said and dodged a soft sided holster tossed at his head.

“Get out!” yelled Griz when a display of old Kalashnikovs tumbled to the floor adding a few more scratches to their already well-worn stocks. “And I’m charging you double for that box of shells you thieving bastard!”

The bell over the door tinkled merrily as the crew ran out, laughing and in high spirits. It had been a while since they’d had any kind of action. The town had become a little too boring.

7

Jessie and Maddy

“How did Jessie and I meet?” The Scarlet entity repeated the question. “To understand how, you must first know why. Jessie sacrificed himself for your world. He knew he couldn’t fix it so he allowed himself to be killed so they couldn’t destroy it even more than it was.”

Jessie stopped, the fork halfway to his mouth, and looked surprised. He knew Horowitz had tried to kill him, or the other him, but he hadn’t thought he’d allowed himself to die on purpose. The journals had gotten vague, the other him had stopped writing any kind of details about his later trips, mostly cryptic notes, coordinates and equations. He’d thought the guy had had enough like he had in Scarlet’s room at the Anubis Headquarters. He was ready to lay down and die.

“But he’s not dead. He survived.” Jessie said, glad that she seemed to be in a talkative mood.

He chose his words carefully; he didn’t want her to clam up again and leave him frustrated trying to piece together the parts of the story that weren’t written in the journals.

“Yes. Because I saved him.” She said matter of factly.

Jessie waited for her to go on and after a moment of internal debate, she started talking and continued for a long time.

“Jessie told me many things on our long journeys between planets. It was at my request that he started writing in the journals, it helped him keep things in perspective. To remember what was real and what wasn’t.”

“Eat.” She said, as she began the story. “The sarshwan loses its flavor if you let it sit too long. I will tell you of me, our meeting and what I know of the things that are not written.”

Horowitz spun one of the knobs at the top of the board. The one that set the year. He smiled and spun it some more.

Then some more.

Jessie didn’t care. He was dead and he knew it and he was okay with it. The world was rebuilding, he had done his part and he was tired. The image of his dad dying of radiation sickness, his mom a lifeless husk curled up on the floor and the tale Gunny had told of a frozen, poisoned world made his death seem like a small price to pay. Horowitz was so angry he seemed to forget he needed Jessies blood to live through the jump. No one knew about the vest and Marilyn wouldn’t tell them. It might be years before they figured it out and before then someone would avenge his death. Horowitz would meet a quick end. His dad or one of the retrievers would find out what happened and give a little payback. Too many people knew, word would get out.

Maybe Takeo, he was smart and if he visited the mile marker Jessie told him about,

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