Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

I made it out of Rocky Start without running into Pike, which I considered an accomplishment since the guy seemed to be everywhere. Maybe he'd slept in.

I doubted that.

I walked down the highway and crossed the Little Melvin River on the same bridge—fifth time's the charm. I paused then turned to the left. Maggs stood on the road, confused. But I walked along the side of the river and took off my ruck. I realized that what I thought was just undergrowth was a stone bench, so I got out my knife and cut away all the vines that had obscured it, and sat down. Rocky Start was across the river. The water in the river splashed and tumbled over the rocks.

It was a really nice spot.

I heard a rustle in the bushes and looked up. The llama must have escaped: It was staring down at me with a "make my day" glare at the top of some stone steps. I looked at Maggs, who was even more confused now, and then I heard somebody yelling, "Fernanda!" so I got up and retrieved my ruck and headed out.

It was all good. I was back in the wilderness where I did not have to face the withering gaze of an eighteen- year-old or the allure of her mother and her damn comforter. Where my soul was at peace with the wonders of nature.

Not really.

Maggs trudged along behind me, not her usual spot off to the left.

"Stop pouting," I said.

Surprisingly, I wasn't feeling very chipper myself. The Trail was ahead, to the southwest, but Pike had had a point. Then what? What the hell was I in a rush to get to? I had to finish the Trail—I'd promised to do that as part of my recovery plan, I always finished a mission—but I wasn't on a deadline. I was just running on autopilot and had been for a long time. Maybe it was time I took control. Slowed down. Had more lasagna.

We'd barely made it a quarter mile before Maggs started limping and the bandage began unraveling. "Really?" I asked, but I accepted that the master programmer of my simulation was thwarting my paranoid instincts and fucking with my autopilot.

I shrugged off my ruck and put it down. "Come here," I said to Maggs as I knelt. She limped over. I had gotten the first aid kit out to redo the bandage when she stopped and turned, head up, on alert. I stood up, unzipping my jacket for access to the pistol.

A very large Black man dwarfed the mountain bike he was pedaling up the trail, even though the bike was large-framed with oversized tires. His black hair and thick beard were tinged with white, and he wore a bright yellow biking jacket and long black biking pants along with wraparound sunglasses. He slowed and came to a halt about ten feet away. He had an air about him which was familiar: confidence and smarts.

He removed the bike helmet and sunglasses and I recognized him. "Tiny?"

He smiled. "Mad Max. It's been years. Where was it last? Kazakhstan? Or somewhere in Southeast Asia?"

"I think Kazakhstan. Protection gig." I stepped forward and we shook hands, Tiny taking care not to crush mine but exerting enough pressure to let me know he could.

He nodded past me at Maggs. "Trouble? "

"Just redoing my dog's bandage."

He nodded, looked Maggs over, then me. "It's just going to come undone again."

"Yeah, probably."

"She shouldn't be walking on that paw."

That sounded familiar. "Did Poppy send you?"

"Good guess." He laughed. "But I ride every day." He tapped his chest. "Good for the heart and losing weight."

I realized he was still a big man, but there was a lot less of him than I remembered, which is why I hadn't recognized him at first.

"So this is all by convenient accident?"

He smiled. "My son Darius did give me a call before school started. He said Poppy was concerned. Since he's pretty gone on her, he was concerned. Which got me concerned."

"Lots of people concerned about my dog," I said.

So Rose's daughter was dating Tiny's son? The suspiciously small world of Rocky Start had just gotten suspiciously smaller.

Tiny shrugged. "Sometimes things work that way."

"What are you doing in this town?" I asked, but I was beginning to get the picture, which had been in front of me all along. All those close-mouthed, armed, and trained citizens of an older age?

"Retired here. At least as retired as we can call it in our profession." Tiny shook his head. "I haven't taken a contract in forever. And I go by Luke here. No one calls me Tiny anymore."

"Right. Luke. I didn't know you had a son." I hadn't known his real name either.

"How much did we know about each other back then outside of the job?" he asked. "I had a wife when I was in the service before becoming a player. She filed for divorce after I had just left on a deployment, and I was like, ‘Fuck it.' And she disappeared. Can't say as I blame her since I was gone all the time and an asshole when I was back. Didn't give it another thought until ten years ago when I got a call. Turned out she'd been pregnant when we'd separated, and I had a nine-year-old boy I never knew about and now she was sick." He shook his head. "Real bad Forrest Gump shit. I retired, went to her, and barely got to know Darius before she died. My son needed me. No regrets. We've been here nine years, no problems. And you? Done with it?"

I was taken aback by the story of a life I hadn't imagined for him that he'd delivered as succinctly as a mission after-action debrief. Also, "nine years" surprised me. It didn't seem that long ago that we'd worked together on an op. Then again, he didn't know anything about my life prior to us working together.

"Yeah," I said. "Around two years since my last contract."

"Enjoying it?"

That was a tough question to answer honestly. "I'm getting by."

He looked at me closely and I felt uneasy. Sometimes I wasn't sure who I'd been in that old life, but one thing for sure is that I hadn't been fit for polite company.

"Why are you in a rush to leave?" Luke asked.

Good question. "A fellow named Pike suggested I move on."

He nodded. "Pike's a hard case but a good man. Old school. Older than us since some might say we're old school now. He's off his game with Oz gone. The two of them were tight." He peered at me, evaluating. "My son says you helped Rose and Poppy with some stranger who claimed to be Oz's son."

"It was nothing."

"Maybe," he said. "But nothing can always turn into something. We know that. Murphy."

He was referring to Murphy's law: What can get fucked up will get fucked up.

He glanced over his shoulder, back in the direction of town. "Don't worry about Pike. I'll talk to him. He's more paranoid than usual, but he has reason for that. That dog needs rest to heal." He looked at me. "Maybe you do, too?"

"I'm fine," I automatically replied.

"Sure," he said.

"How'd you find me?" I asked.

"The story is you're walking the A.T.," Luke said. "North to south. If you're trying to pick up the trail going south you'd either go along the highway five miles to where it crossed or you'd take this forest road. I figured you'd stay off the main road."

He'd gone to a lot of trouble on that bike to track me down and he'd called my route accurately.

He folded his arms, which made his massive biceps seem even larger. He was in great shape for someone with that much white in his beard. Retirement was treating him well or, rather, he was taking it well.

"People don't stop here for resupply off the A.T.," Luke said.

"So I've been told. By everyone."

"Who sent you?" He asked that without threat. More curiosity.

"A friend."

"A friend sent you far out of your way," he pointed out. "This friend sent you to Rocky Start for a reason that had nothing to do with resupply, Max. If you don't know why, you probably should figure it out. And you're not going to do that walking the trail."

I looked down at Maggs. Not only was the bandage unraveling, there was a trace of blood seeping through. And he had a point. Herc had sent me here and it wasn't for boots.

"How many of us are there in town?" I asked.

"We don't ask questions in Rocky Start," Luke said. "Rose and Poppy aren't up to speed on Oz and what's coming. They were never players. Civilians. Like a good part of the town. There aren't that many of us here, but there are enough. It's not a place that allows trouble."

"What about Oz? Who was he? What's coming?"

"You don't know?" He seemed genuinely surprised.

"Know what?"

"Those visitors she had," Luke said. "Bad news."

"Pike is on it."

"Pike is past his prime," Luke said. "Hell, we all are. Forget it." He waved his comment off.

"Are you up to speed on Oz and what it's all about?" I asked.

"Not really," he said. "The only one who knows the truth about Oz is Pike. And he's rattled. That worries me. I think Rose is in over her head."

I looked back toward town and Rose.

"Don't worry," Luke said. "Not your problem."

Nice guilting , I thought. I could see the long hand of Poppy Malone playing into this. "Right."

"I've said my piece, my friend. It's good to see you again." He smiled, put the helmet back on, turned the mountain bike, and headed back toward Rocky Start, a place with good food, a comfortable bed, and a hot shower.

And a very warm woman.

He hadn't said goodbye, not just because we didn't do that in our previous employment, but because he knew he'd hooked me good.

I could just go off-road, find a campsite, and settle down for a couple of days. Let Maggs heal. Ignore Rocky Start. And Poppy. And Rose. And all the nuts who inhabited the place, many of whom, it now appeared, were former players, armed and lethal. I looked up the forest road, which curved toward the Appalachian Trail.

Which, as Poppy had noted, wasn't going anywhere.

But Luke, aka Tiny, who'd been one of the toughest guys I'd ever done a mission with, clearly thought I should go back to town. He'd been a stand-up player who could be counted on. I imagined he still was. He was right. There were unanswered questions.

I looked at Maggs. "You're causing a lot of problems, girl."

She stared back, not accepting responsibility.

"Oh, come on," I said.

We headed back toward town.