Cruel World

“No, a woman and a man. They were our housekeeper and groundskeeper. Why?”


“Because two maniacs in a truck nearly killed us yesterday. They started following us outside of Pearlton, just hovering a half-mile back, never getting closer. Then they came up fast and tailgated us for about ten miles, both of them waving for us to pull over. I would’ve rather chewed glass, so we kept going until they forced us off the road about a mile from here. I lost control in the ditch and hit a huge transformer. That’s the last thing I remember before waking up this afternoon. When I did, all our supplies were gone. Good thing the boomer was under the seat or it would be gone too.” She waved the handgun once and then slid its bulk beneath her belt.

“They were here too,” Quinn said. “They came in and took all of my food and water.”

“Why didn’t you shoot the bastards?”

“I guess I was in shock. I didn’t know what they wanted when they showed up, so I hid.”

The woman’s lip rose a little on one side in a sneer. “They better hope they never run into me again. Ty lost consciousness too, but he woke up before me and had to sit there wondering if I was dead until I came to.”

Her jaw clenched, and the muscle in her cheek bulged as she looked away at the fire. Ty shivered once beside her.

“Come sit down by the fire,” Quinn said, rising and motioning toward the couch. “I’m guessing you’re both cold and tired.”

“Listen, we don’t need anything from you. We might stay the night just because it’s not safe in the dark anymore. Looks like you’ve got a pretty good perimeter set up around your property, but it doesn’t really matter if a stilt wants to come in.” She looked out the window and then glanced at him again. Their gazes held for a moment before she looked back at the fire. “My name’s Alice.”

Ty inched forward, one hand still attached to his mother’s waist while the other groped at the open space before him. Suddenly the glazed look in his eyes made sense.

“Here,” Quinn said, stepping out of the way. “The couch is to your left.”

Alice guided her son to the plush sofa and helped him onto the cushion. The little boy’s face remained stoic for a beat and then broke into a shining smile.

“This is really soft,” Ty said, looking about the room with his sightless eyes. He shivered again, holding his hands out in the direction of the fire. Quinn moved to get the blanket from the back of the couch, but Alice headed him off, covering her son with it before he could help.

“Are you hungry?” Quinn asked.

“Yes, really hungry,” Ty said, the smile still there.

“If you have something, I can pay you for it, not that money’s worth anything now.” Alice said. “I’m fine, but if there’s something you could spare for him.”

“I’ll see what I can find,” Quinn said, moving into the kitchen. He picked up the flashlight on the counter and began examining his stores when he noticed Alice in the doorway, her hand on the butt of her pistol again.

“Sorry, just making sure you weren’t planning anything.”

“Only dinner. I’m really not dangerous.”

“I kinda guessed that when you weren’t able to defend your home against those jackasses.”

Quinn paused in turning over a bag of chips and then shrugged. Alice shifted and fingered the pistol’s grip.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything. Sometimes there’s no filter between here and here,” she said pointing at her bloodied temple and then her lips.

“It’s okay. I can assure you that I won’t hurt either of you.”

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