Chapter Twenty-Seven – The Dragon’s Favorite Strays
Chapter Twenty-Seven
DAKOTA
“What fort were you in?” I ask, oh so casually. I squeeze Murr’s hand in mine without realizing I’m doing so, and when he squeezes back, it startles me.
Dottie is the one that replies, her tone calm and measured. “We came from Kansas City.”
“That’s a long, long ways away. You two walked?” My bullshit meter turns on. It took me and Rabbit two years to make it here from Amarillo. You can’t travel fast anymore. The roads are overgrown and broken, so you have to walk on foot. You have to be careful to avoid dragons and their attacks, not to mention other people. You have to forage for food, or scavenge every building you come across in the hopes of scraps from Before. The fact that these two elderly women made it that far on their own tells me they’re either lying or there’s something they’re not sharing.
“Not exactly,” Dottie continues. “We rode bicycles all the way down to Oklahoma City. Took a bit, but it ain’t that hard to do.”
“I used to bike to work every morning back when we still had corporate jobs,” Aggie mourns. “I had the prettiest road bike, too. Lightweight, but the best glide. Bright yellow, too. I called her Little Mama.” Her mouth purses and for a moment she looks genuinely sad. “She served me well for several years but when we got to Oklahoma, her tires gave out. Couldn’t find a replacement so we ended up trading her for parts.”
“We sold my bike to a guide,” Dottie says. Her expression hardens. “He was supposed to guide us to Fort Dallas, but he tried to kill us and ran off with the bike just a few hours outside of the last fort. After that, we decided not to deal with forts–”
“–or men,” Aggie chimes in.
“–or men,” Dottie continues. “No more for us. We’re done.”
“If I see that bastard again, I’m gonna take the bike and shove his shitty beard through the spokes and ride away,” Aggie seethes.
That…has to be a coincidence. Lots of people ride bicycles in the After, simply because they don’t require gasoline. Lots of guys have beards too, because razors are at a premium. And yet, I have to ask. “What did that guide look like, if you don’t mind me asking?”
I feel sick to my stomach as the two women describe who could be the nomad we met earlier. Long, unkempt hair. Scraggly beard. Smarmy smile. It could be anyone, I tell myself. Could be any number of men that just don’t bother to cut their hair and grow a beard. Any number of men with a bicycle.
Any number of men wandering the area that Aggie and Dottie just happen to show up in at close to the same time.
“I think we met him,” I say, deciding to put all the cards on the table. “He came by yesterday and we ran him off, but I’m sure he’ll be back.”
Aggie pushes her glasses up her nose and sits upright. She rubs her hands together. “He’s around here? Good, because I want to kill him.”
My daughter shoots me an uncertain look. “I thought you said he left you outside of the fort. Why would he follow you all the way here?”
My smart, clever daughter. She’s suspicious, as she should be. These ladies might be friendly, but it doesn’t mean we can trust them. I’m both proud of her and terrified of what this could mean.
Motherhood is pretty much just endlessly being terrified for your child’s safety at any and all times.
“Who knows why he’s here?” Dottie says, her voice even and unbothered. She puts a comforting hand on Aggie’s knee and gives me a clear-eyed look. “I know you’ve got Rabbit to look after, Dakota. We don’t want you to feel like you’re in danger over a couple of strange old ladies. This is your home, not ours. We’ll trade you for a couple of Sudoku books and go on our way.”
“Crosswords! Not Sudoku, crosswords!” Aggie recoils as if she’s allergic to sudoku. “I told you I hate math, Dot.”
I glance over at Rabbit and she’s watching me with big, worried eyes. I don’t know if the worry is for us or for the women…or even the cats. “Rabbit and I will talk it over,” I tell the two women. “You can stay with us tonight. We’ll decide and let you know in the morning.”
This makes Aggie pat her wig. “Oho. Not gonna talk it over with the big gold hunka hunka burning love?”
“He’s going to be fine with whatever I decide.”
“I bet he is.” Aggie pats her groin again and pitches her voice deep, mimicking Murr. “Daaakotaaaah.”
I bite back a sigh, and I suspect Dottie does, too. Rabbit just giggles.
