“Thanks.” I took a sip of the steaming tea and burned my tongue. I winced and screwed the cap back on.
Since Clutch had dropped off his wheelchair with Doc, his mood had improved a hundred-fold. While I still believed he suffered from depression—and he clearly suffered from PTSD—it was nice to see him not staring off blankly into the unknown quite as often.
“This fog could save us,” he said. “The zeds may move on since they can’t see us.”
Until the zeds left, there wasn’t much we could do besides quietly get the Aurora back into shape. It was too foggy to go ashore or even down the river on any scouting runs. We’d used up a ton of fuel putting out fires and making repairs. The herds would be passing through any day now, so we couldn’t go in search of any livestock. Thank God we still had the grain, though the lack of complete protein this winter would be hard.
“Hopefully we don’t have to worry about the Lady Amore any time soon,” I said. Immediately after Sorenson’s death, Tyler had organized a truce with Sorenson’s men. He’d offered them full pardons in exchange for no more attacks. He’d even offered another chance at the trade agreement, which they’d quickly accepted. However, many of us weren’t nearly as confident as Tyler was that they wouldn’t seek revenge or try to steal from us again. The riverboat had left minutes after we’d returned Sorenson’s body back along with his two men, and the boat hadn’t returned.
“I still think we should’ve gone in and hit them hard. They know they’re outgunned and they wouldn’t try something stupid again,” Clutch said. “It all depends on Sorenson’s replacement. They could be smart and know the value of working together, or they could be idiots. We’ll have to stay on our toes until we know. It’s too bad Sorenson killed himself. He was easy to figure out. He was a straight shooter, except that he let his heart get in the way. Whoever replaces him could be more of a challenge.”
I nodded and then smiled. “At least we have his speedboat now. I’m looking forward to going for a ride.” Tyler had given Sorenson’s men one of our deck boats in a “trade” for their speedboat. He wasn’t about to let them leave with our .30 cal again.
A light breeze blew through, and I shivered. My clothes were damp from the fog and offered little warmth. I held the thermos against me. “I need to start wearing a jacket.”
“Here,” Clutch said as he wrapped an arm around me.
I leaned into him, savoring his warmth and the closeness. We sat and watched as the sun burned through the fog. A low haze sat just above the water, but I could see the land over it.
“Look.” I pointed to the riverbank. “The zeds have cleared out on the east side. You’re right. They’re leaving.”
Clutch twisted his neck to take in the landscape. “Yeah, but they’re still on the bridge and on the west side.”
“Hopefully just one more day of us laying low and they’ll leave like the others.”
“Hey guys,” Wes said through a yawn as he approached.
“Mornin’,” I said, climbing to my feet.
Wes took a seat on the deck behind the rail where I’d been sitting. The boat was angled in the water in a way that allowed us to watch the bridge and see land from every direction without being seen by the zeds. “Man, I’d rather still be asleep.”
“That’s all everyone does anymore,” Clutch grumbled. He used his cane to push himself to his feet and looked at me. “Feel up to some sparring?”
“You bet.” I turned to Wes. “Don’t have too much fun.”
He scowled, and I headed off with Clutch.