Nineteen
Asia
“In case I haven’t mentioned it yet, I think this is a terrible idea,” I said.
Jack humored me, but that didn’t stop him from walking toward the door.
“You got your gun?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I responded.
“Knife?”
I looked down at the knife holder attached to my yoga pants. The blade itself was heavy enough to make the pants sag at one side, but the clip was securely in place.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Dagger in your shoe?"
“Yes, Jackson, I have the mini arsenal that you insist I carry on my person. But I wouldn’t need said mini arsenal if we did the smart thing—which is staying inside,” I said.
He gave a tight nod, hand resting on his pistol like he was waiting for a reason to use it, but didn’t otherwise acknowledge what I said. I made the same argument the day before when he first pitched the idea of leaving the judge’s house. And today, I was met with the same response.
“Better to not need it and have it than be caught empty-handed and end up dead,” he said.
“Interesting way to phrase it, as always, Jackson. And I know. My uncle used to preach the same thing. But if we stayed inside, I definitely wouldn’t need it, and I would definitely have it.”
Jack adjusted the heavy knife strapped across his chest, touching it in a practiced way that said he knew exactly how to use it and then he stopped and looked at me.
“You heard the broadcast, Asia.”
“Yeah, I heard it.”
And he knew that.
After all, he was the one who wiped my tears—then sent me to the height of ecstasy after.
“You know I did.”
“Then you know what they said. No one’s coming. We have to figure out what’s going on out there and make a plan,” he said.
“We should…” I trailed off as Jack studied me, searching for the right next words.
But there weren’t any.
He was right.
As much as I didn’t want to admit it, we couldn’t just stay here and pretend that everything would be okay eventually.
Plus, I knew Jack had places he needed to be.
Knew that I held him back from them.
“You’re right,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
I kept my head down but heard Jack cross over and pull me into a full-body hug. I let myself sink into him and let him hold me.
“It’s not about right or wrong, Asia. It’s about being smart, and this is smart.” His voice was soft in a way that made me want to melt on the spot.
Instead, I chuckled, my laughter reverberating from my body to his. “I’m not gonna go that far, but let’s do this before I decide to argue again.”
He returned my laugh and then looked down at me, assessing.
After a moment, he pressed a soft kiss against my lips, then walked toward the patio door with me a step behind.
The judge’s house had a deck with stairs that led down to the backyard.
Jack thought it was safer to use that rather than walking through the front door or one of the side entrances.
He also didn’t want to open the garage and risk someone seeing what the judge had inside.
So, with the morning sun hot overhead, we quickly stepped onto the deck, re-secured the door, and made our way down the stairs.
It felt odd being outside.
And not in a good way.
In the days we’d been here, I fully threw myself into the bubble we built. Allowed myself to think what was outside was distant, different from what was happening inside.
But the humid air and bright sun telling me that it was going to be a scorcher of a day had the same effect as being thrown into an ice-cold pool.
Something about the air, the stillness of it, the scent of it so familiar, but still threaded through with smoke, only drove that truth home.
I gave Jack a layout of the judge’s neighborhood.
Our plan was to go to nearby houses, see if there was anything to find.
And while Jack didn’t say it, I suspected he was looking for something useful, too.
The judge was well supplied, but given what we heard, it would be stupid not to get everything we could.
And I was sure Jack wanted to make sure he had everything he ever conceivably needed when he finally decided it was time to leave.
The plan today was to search the neighborhood—seven houses—then get back to the judge’s and regroup. So I focused on that task as we swept through the houses.
Five houses in, and so far we found a couple of guns, some pouches of tuna, and first-aid kits and medication, all of which easily fit into the backpack Jack insisted on carrying.
I’d tried to grab it, but one silent glare was enough for me to raise my hands in surrender.
I was sure Jack and I would find plenty of reason to argue. Manual labor was one I’d let him have.
The sixth house was a treasure trove.
“Jack, check this out,” I said.
“What?” he asked, as he took the stairs two at a time.
Like with all the others, we did a quick sweep to make sure the home was empty, followed by a more thorough search.
“Isn’t this the most beautiful lamp?” I said when he entered the master bedroom.
His eyes almost bugged out. “Asia, did you…”
“Call you up here to show you this beautiful lamp?” I asked, staring at the delicate lamp with a stained-glass shade.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice rumbling out of his chest with annoyance.
“Yes, I did. I also wanted you to check out the closet. Some of these clothes and shoes might fit,” I said.
Jack grunted but checked the closet anyway.
Clothes weren’t the most important thing, but we had almost none.
“Not bad,” Jack said as he came out of the closet with a stack of black T-shirts, several pairs of cargo pants, and some socks and underwear.
He must have seen my nose crinkle at the underwear. “Yeah, not ideal, but beggars can’t be choosers, right?”
I laughed and then went to the closet for a look around.
I grabbed a couple of flannel shirts and then fist pumped when I spotted the box with a pair of clearly expensive women’s hiking boots, size ten and a half.
I changed into them and tucked my sneakers into my own backpack.
The boots felt clunky, heavy, but they were already nicely broken in.
I’d get used to them eventually.
As we approached the last house, I started to feel almost good about the day.
Jack looked at the house, then at me. I nodded, then moved the fake rock with the key underneath. Jack looked at me curiously, and I shrugged.
“A tip I picked up from a couple of former clients,” I said. Though I had never expected to use it, let alone have it come in so handy.
This house was on the far opposite end of the neighborhood, maybe half a mile away from the judge’s. Smaller, maybe renovated in the late nineties, but still very nice, almost quaint.
The search was uneventful, and before we headed downstairs to leave, I looked over at Jack.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all,” I said.
Jack smiled. “I told you?—”
“Hate to interrupt, but I’m gonna need you to put down those weapons, darling,” came a man’s voice from the doorway.