30. Adrian
CHAPTER THIRTY
ADRIAN
We left Finley and Rory behind at the silo and headed east.
I hated that it had to happen that way.
Not because I doubted Finley could protect Rory. He could definitely do it. And not because the little concrete office was indefensible. It wasn’t ideal, but with both doors barricaded, Max inside, and Finley armed, it was safer than anything we were about to walk into.
I hated it because our group had gotten smaller again, and that never seemed to end well.
Wren walked ahead with Colson, occasionally pointing toward landmarks only she seemed capable of recognizing. “That used to be a Dairy Queen.”
I looked at the collapsed building she indicated. There was no sign or roof, and half the front wall was gone. “Are you positive of that fact?”
Wren nodded her head. “Yep, I got banned from it once.”
Beck glanced over. “Why?”
“I threw a Blizzard at a guy.” She stooped, picked up a rock, examined the colors, then put it in her pocket.
“What did he do?” Taryn asked with concern in her voice.
I knew my girl had given up the battle to keep Wren at a distance, and I was glad. Wren had obviously been through something traumatic enough to lose most of her sanity, but she was loyal to a fault.
Wren tilted her head and was quiet for a few minutes, then she shrugged. “I can’t remember, but I’m sure he deserved it.”
Colson nodded once, accepting her words as fact.
Beck watched him out of the corner of his eye. “I like that guy.”
“I do too.” I looked at Wren. “He’s good for her.”
I heard Lucas laugh quietly and looked ahead. He and Taryn were walking side by side, his hand resting loosely at the small of her back whenever the terrain narrowed.
Beck glanced to see what had drawn my attention, then chuckled at Lucas. "Are you going to let her walk on her own at some point today?”
I studied him carefully, but this time there was no tension behind his expression. Just a look of amusement.
Lucas didn’t bother moving his hand but glanced back over his shoulder with a smirk. “Eventually.”
The three of us had spent so much time circling one another that the sudden ease still felt strange.
Good.
But strange.
It might be that facing near death multiple times while keeping the woman we loved alive eventually clarified everything.
At the end of the day, it was Taryn… always Taryn.
None of us were going anywhere without her. And apparently, we’d all stopped pretending otherwise.
Taryn stopped to examine a plant, and Lucas stepped aside to talk to Beck.
“We need to keep moving,” I whispered in her ear.
“It’s plantain.”
I looked at the weed. “It doesn’t look like the plantain I’m familiar with.”
“Not the banana kind.” She looked at me in exasperation.
I held up my hands in surrender. “I must have missed that lesson from Ben.”
She rubbed a leaf between her fingers. “Ben taught me to use it for bites, stings, and minor scrapes.” Her expression grew melancholy. “You crush it and make a poultice.”
I knew how much she missed her dad. I missed the old asshole quite a bit, too.
I plucked several leaves and tucked them carefully into an outside pocket of her pack. “If the world keeps insisting on trying to kill us, these will be of use.”
She smiled, and I kissed her on the tip of her adorable little nose. “Now let’s get moving, baby.”
Taryn nodded, then pulled me into a hug. “I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it, but I love when you call me that.”
“What?”
She ducked her head shyly. “Baby.”
Lucas and Beck chose that moment to approach.
“Hey, Fox is much better than a generic ‘baby’” Beck scowled.
Lucas looked offended. “Menace is even more creative.”
We all followed close to Taryn as she walked on. “I said I liked it, not that it was the only one I liked. Sheesh.”
“Okay.” Beck smiled.
“Just keep it even.” Lucas scolded.
Taryn grinned. “Maybe, or maybe we can do a points system.”
“Points system?” Beck frowned.
“Yes, whoever pleases me the most that day gets a score between one and ten.” She smirked evilly. “And the one who pisses me off has points deducted.”
“Fuck that.” Lucas shook his head. “History has shown us that the one who pisses you off the most is probably going to be me.”
Taryn threw her head back and laughed.
“Quiet.” I hissed, hearing something off in the distance.
Every trace of humor disappeared from her face instantly. That was another thing people consistently underestimated about her. She could go from laughing to lethal in less than a heartbeat.
We moved deeper into the trees, and the smell of fuel grew stronger.
“That smell is only a few miles away.” Beck raised his head to sniff, looking like a predator scenting prey.
Wren slowed. “This is where we stopped coming.”
She’d lost the playful expression that usually graced her face.
“You’re sure?”
She nodded toward an old county road barely visible through the trees. “Gideon told scavenging teams we weren’t allowed anywhere near here.”
“Did you ever ignore that order?” I studied her face.
“Maybe once.” She shrugged. “I was curious and wanted to see if they had Robin.” Wren turned to Taryn. “Thank God they didn’t, and I finally got my sister back.”
“What did you see?” Lucas asked, ignoring that last part.
“A tall fence. Trucks. Men with rifles.”
Beck glanced at her. “Anything else you’d like to mention before we go any further?”
Wren considered that. “One chased me.”
Colson touched her elbow. “Can you describe him to me?”
“I took care of him.” Her expression grew distant. “He’s probably a rotter by now.”
Colson pulled her into his massive arms for a hug. “Good.”
No one spoke after that, and we left the road, moving quietly through the woods.
A rotter wandered between the trees twenty minutes later. He was male, older, with half its scalp missing.
It hadn’t noticed us yet.
Beck moved before anyone else. He came up behind it, caught a handful of its shirt, and yanked it back hard enough to expose the side of its head, then drove his knife in just above the ear.
The sound was a wet, ugly crunch.
The rotter jerked once, and Beck twisted the blade. The skull finally gave, cracking softly, and dark blood dripped down his hands.
He pulled the knife free with a thick sucking sound and lowered the body quietly into the leaves.
He wiped the blade on the rotter’s shirt and looked at Lucas. “See? No brain on my boot.”
Lucas’s mouth twitched. “Congratulations, biker boy.”
“That’s biker man, asshole,” Beck smirked.
Taryn looked between them. “Are you two seriously continuing this?”
“Absolutely.” Beck grinned. “Now we have to prove who’s the biggest pussy.”
Colson looked confused. “What?”
“Don’t ask.” Taryn shook her head. “Five points deducted from each of you.”
Both men just looked at each other and grinned. Progress came in unexpected forms.
We’d only walked a few miles further when it appeared between the trees without warning.
A chain-link fence at least ten feet high, with barbed wire across the top. Thankfully, it wasn’t razor wire, but it would still discourage most people.
We dropped low.
Before the apocalypse, it had probably been an ordinary rural fuel distributor.
Now it was a kingdom.
Three massive white storage tanks rose near the rear of the property, rust bleeding down their sides. Smaller propane tanks lined one section behind additional fencing. Two delivery trucks sat beside a long maintenance garage, along with pickups, an old tanker, and several farm vehicles.
A squat brick office stood near the front gate. Behind it were two metal warehouses, trailers, and an equipment shed. Solar panels covered part of the garage roof.
A generator rumbled somewhere deeper inside.
Electricity.
Fuel.
Vehicles.
No wonder Gideon traded whatever they asked for.
I briefly wondered how many places like this existed in our world now.
Beck crouched beside me. “How many do you count?”
“Nine.”
“Eleven,” Lucas corrected me.
I looked toward him, and he pointed toward the shadow beside one warehouse.
Two men.
“Eleven,” I conceded.
“That’s visible, anyway,” Taryn said quietly.
Exactly. There was no way to determine their true numbers from out here.
I scanned the perimeter.
Two guards stood at the front gate, and one patrolled inside the fence. Another was positioned on a makeshift platform near the tanks.
Men moved between the buildings, and most of them were armed.
Then one crossed the yard carrying a steel toolbox that should’ve required both hands.
Enhanced.
Another jumped down from the bed of a truck with the controlled ease I’d learned to recognize.
Enhanced.
A third spun before a loose barrel behind him made enough noise for an ordinary person to react.
“Three enhanced,” I stared intently, looking for others.
“I see another,” Taryn murmured.
“Where?” Colson asked.
She pointed toward the office. “He heard that barrel and turned to look before anyone with normal hearing could.”
“Fuck.” Beck’s expression hardened.
None of us needed the reminder, but there it was anyway. We weren’t the only people the meteor had changed.
We all had a habit of charging toward danger because we were stronger and faster than most people left alive. Here, that advantage narrowed considerably.
Then I noticed the women.
One stood over an outdoor cooking surface near the warehouse. Another carried folded clothes between two trailers. Two hauled buckets from a hand pump. A fourth knelt beside a galvanized tub, scrubbing shirts on a washboard.
None carried weapons.
Men sat beneath a canvas awning drinking while a woman moved between them with plates.
She set one down. Then a man caught her wrist before she could move away, and she froze.
He pulled her close and whispered something too quietly for me to hear, and the others laughed. His hand slid slowly down her back, and all she did was stare at the ground. When he finally let her go, she picked up the second plate and kept walking.
Taryn went still beside me as another woman emerged from one of the trailers. A bruise darkened her cheek, and her lip was split. A man followed behind her, fastening his belt.
Wren whispered, “I know her.”
We all turned to look at her.