I smiled. “I think we’ll get along all right.”
Several dozen trips later, Jase and I had filled the small space of the office with surplus gear and had sorted out the groceries, toilet paper, and other odds and ends from the SUV.
We spent the next two hours quietly sorting all the gear into piles. Clothing by size, bags by type, cots, and everything else in piles of similar items. I even made a pile of my own stuff. Cargo pants with large pockets, button-down camo shirts made of not-so-soft hearty canvas, black sports bras, olive drab tank tops, a heavy-duty rain jacket, a thick winter coat, a tactical belt, and two pair of boots. My old Doc Martens had held up great so far, but the abuse was already starting to show.
I changed in the mudroom. It felt good to wear something in my size. The knife and gun sat more comfortably against my waist on the smaller belt. For the first time in a long time, I felt a genuine smile.
I went back to find Jase, and he started chuckling. “You look like G. I. Jane.”
“Looks who’s talking. You look pretty badass yourself. OD looks good on you.” He’d already changed out of his clothes and into fatigues, changing his look from high schooler to soldier in the blink of an eye. He still had a youthful face, but the clothes infused him with confidence that I hadn’t seen this morning.
“Dad always thought I’d join the ROTC,” he said, and the smile dropped from his face. His next words were barely a whisper. “I-I don’t think I can go back there.”
I sobered. “Clutch and I will take care of it. Let me know anything else you want from your house, and I’ll see that we pick it up.”
After a stalled silence, he mumbled, “Thanks.”
I motioned him up. “Let’s grab some fresh air.”
Jase followed me outside. It wasn’t yet time for lunch, so we walked the perimeter, checking Clutch’s simple yet effective early-warning systems.
“You’re lucky you found Clutch,” Jase said as we walked.
“It wasn’t just luck,” I replied.
“What do you mean?”
I kneeled, checking a tripwire. When I stood, I faced Jase. “My mom always hated that I didn’t go to church.” I smiled, remembering how she scolded me. Then I sobered. “I was never what you call a true believer so once I moved into my own place, I quit going through the motions. I don’t know why I’m still here when so many good people aren’t, but I think there had to be something more at play than just luck when Clutch pulled up and took me in when I needed help the most.”
“You’re saying it’s a miracle or destiny or something like that why Clutch saved you?”
“Is that any different than luck?” I scanned the yard one more time and then headed over to my tree.
I pulled out my blade and began practicing. Jase sat off to the side, watching me but more often watching the mound of dirt a couple trees down. There was nothing I could say. He needed time, and I hoped that with time, he’d heal.
“Can I get weapons, too?” he asked while I stabbed.
“Ask Clutch,” I replied. I’d give him weapons if I could, but it wasn’t my place. Every weapon here belonged to Clutch, except for the two he’d given me. If and how he distributed his weapons was up to him. “Now, keep an eye out for zeds.”
The rhythm came easier today, like my body remembered the motions from last night. Muscles in my biceps and thighs reminded me that I needed to get in better shape. And I worked at doing exactly that.
After about an hour into my workout, I had to tape up the sandbag because it’d been thoroughly shredded. With the bag wrapped in silver, I went back at it.
“Put your left leg forward a bit more. You’ll be less likely to be knocked off balance.”
I jumped to find Clutch behind me. He’d shaved and had changed clothes, though he wore as many guns and knives as usual.
I turned back to the tree and spread out my feet. After a few awkward stabs, the wider stance put more strength into each thrust.
Jase clapped. “Looking good, Cash.”