Eden's Promise (20 page)

“For my sister, yes.”

He stepped back, anger pouring through him. “I thought you dragged me here to help you. If you don’t want that help anymore, then fine. I’ll go home. You rescue your sister.”

She squared her shoulders and he read the hurt on her face. Did she really think he’d fight to go with her? Of course she did. Hadn’t he been by her side so far? But Annie was in bad shape. The baby still cried after she fed him, because he was hungry. They should have left the two of them at the base. At least she would have had food. No way in hell would she be able to walk to Sacramento, and then the coast. The baby would die for sure, and he didn’t hold out much hope for the mother.

He didn’t back down, and neither did Eden, though her shoulders slumped a little.
 

“We should divide the supplies then,” she murmured, sliding her pack from her shoulders.
 

Anger still burned in him as they laid out the supplies, side by side. She insisted on dividing what remained of the food down the middle, even though her journey would be twice as long. The thought of her being hungry made his gut tighten, and pissed him off more. They would have been fine, just the two of them, getting to Sacramento, getting back. And now?
 

He set an extra box half-filled with 9mm rounds in front of her. “You have farther to travel. You’ll need these.”

She nodded and tucked them away. He resisted the urge to tell her not to waste them, but not to hesitate, but she was well-trained. She stood and hefted the pack onto her shoulders. He straightened, too, and ground his teeth at the tears in her eyes.
 

“Make it to San Francisco. Pier 29. I’ll come back for you.”

She lifted her chin. “We’ll find our own way. It might be harder to get there than someplace else. Don’t worry.”

She was right of course, but that didn’t stop his stomach from twisting. She started to turn away, but he caught her hip and turned her back to him, bringing her body against his, covering her mouth with his. She made a sound of surprise before she twined her arms around his neck and kissed him back, hard, her body plastered to his. He cupped her head in his hand, not wanting to let go, not wanting to send her off.

She was the one who broke the kiss, her eyes shining with tears she didn’t bother to hide.
 

“We have a long way to go,” she murmured, looking up at him. “I’ll see you in a week.”

He could only hope.

***

Eden and Christine made good time despite the uneven terrain. They agreed it was safest to stay off the main roads, especially since Commander Wayne had vehicles at his disposal. Eden couldn’t be sure he was still looking for them, wasting his resources, but Christine couldn’t go ten steps without looking over her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t behind them.
 

Now that it was only two of them—again—sleeping would have to be done in shifts. Eden had hoped they’d find another small town, an abandoned store or some kind of shelter, but this part of California was not as populated. Once it was too dark to see, they made camp in the forest, under a big tree. They split an MRE even though Eden could have eaten two or three on her own, and Eden took first watch.

As she sat alone in the dark, listening to Christine’s breathing, she admitted to herself that she’d looked over her shoulder a few times, too, waiting for Aaron to change his mind and come after her. Of course he wouldn’t, now that he felt responsible for Annie, but oh, how she’d wanted to see his sure-footed stride, the set of his shoulders on the horizon.

She had to believe she’d seen him in just a week. She had to believe they’d both make it home safely.

The following morning Christine was a little more talkative, which kept Eden’s mind off of Aaron and how far he’d gotten and how he was dealing with taking care of a baby. What she wouldn’t give to see that.

Christine talked about her family—three brothers and her, all raised by a single mother, who hadn’t wanted her only daughter to go into the service. But Christine had never been a girly-girl, growing up in the footsteps of those three brothers, who taught her how to do things her mother could never know about, including climbing to the top of a water tower.
 

“They’d kick Wayne’s ass for doing what he did to me,” she muttered.
 

“Where are they now?” Eden asked, alert now for people and buildings as the road widened to four lanes. There had to be a town around here.

“Back east, all of them. If not for the Rockies, I’d be headed there now. But it doesn’t look like I can get there any time soon.”

“When we were at the refugee camp, they talked about alternative fuel. Maybe once that becomes available...” She gestured to an abandoned car on the side of the road.
 

“And how will I get it? No money, nothing to trade for it.”

“There’s got to be some kind of regulation before long. This country can’t dissolve into the hands of a bunch of men like Wayne.”

“Why not? He was willing to take charge, willing to take people in, where most people, like your own island, keeps good people out to protect itself.”

Eden opened her mouth to protest, but it was true.
 

Her instincts started to prickle and she motioned to Christine to get off the road with her. Together they climbed down the embankment and moved into the woods alongside. They continued south as the road curved west, and found themselves on a hill overlooking an industrial park that was, well, industrious. People moved between buildings, some of which had their bays open, displaying rows upon rows of supplies. Everything—crackers, coffee, alcohol—and were those Oreos? Her stomach rumbled just looking at all the excess.

Beyond the park, she saw several semi truck trailers, though she couldn’t tell if those were full as well. At least she had a good idea where the park had gotten their supplies. And as she took that in, she took in the razor wire fencing around the perimeter. These guys meant business.

“Do you think they’re pirates?” Christine asked, low, just when a hand closed around the back of Eden’s neck.

Chapter Sixteen

Aaron bounced the baby against his shoulder, one hand under his little butt in a makeshift diaper, the other around the back of his neck. He’d always heard not to let them flop their heads back and he’d be damned if that happened on his watch. The baby’s cries were dying down, but Aaron feared it was more because he was growing weak than because he was going to sleep. Annie was sleeping restlessly under a nearby tree.

Aaron’s own stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten since last night, since he was saving most of the calories for Annie and the baby. But he needed to eat soon, to have the energy to get them over the hills to the coast. They had to find food.
 

Which meant he was going to have to approach someone. That had not paid off for them lately. He had to hope someone would have mercy on a new mother.

He lowered himself to the tree on the other side of Annie and shifted the baby into the cradle of his arms. The infant—Annie hadn’t named him yet—pursed his lips and suckled.
 

“Sorry, dude,” Aaron murmured, and pulled the baby closer to keep him warm.

He had to keep the two of them alive, because he had let Eden walk away. God, he couldn’t wrap his head around her being out there with just a handgun and her wits. He went over and over in his head—how could he have stopped her? She was determined to get to her sister. At least she knew her sister was alive but what would she encounter on those seventy miles?

The baby fell asleep, and the night’s silence was unnerving. The baby’s cries had made him nervous, thinking they might draw an animal, or some other unwelcome guests investigating, and he wouldn’t be able to hear them approach. Now, though, he heard nothing, and the absence of sound made him itch. He dared not move without reason and wake the baby. Little guy needed to get as much rest as he could.
 

The kid needed a name. The fact that Annie hadn’t given him one bothered the hell out of him. Her reasoning seemed to be that she didn’t want to name him in case she lost him. Or because she didn’t want to be attached to him. He got that the baby wasn’t conceived under the best circumstances, but hell, not the kid’s fault. He was fully dependent on them, and Aaron was determined not to fail him.

***

Aaron woke when the baby was lifted from his arms, and he blinked up at Annie in the watery morning light. “Did I fall asleep?” he croaked.

“Snoring and everything. It was kinda sweet that little guy didn’t seem to mind.”

Not sweet, Aaron thought, climbing to his feet, hard to do with arms stiff from holding a baby all night.The little guy was too weak to protest. Even now, as he woke up, he only made soft mewling sounds. Annie mattter-of-factly lifted her sweatshirt and offered a breast. The baby suckled for only a few minutes before he broke the connection with a weak cry.

“Get your things. Today, we’re finding food.”

Houses were few and far between in this part of California, but Aaron figured they were more likely to be occupied than homes in the cities. So no matter that it cost him to walk up long, winding driveways, he checked every one, returning time and again to Annie on the road with a shake of his head.

Where the hell was everyone?

The sun was beginning to set behind the mountains and every muscle in his hungry body protested when he came across a driveway with a heavy iron gate. This one wasn’t mechanized, though. It was padlocked to the fence, and rolled back on wheels. The lock wasn’t rusty with disuse, either.
 

Hope welled in his weary chest. “Wait here.” He climbed over with less athleticism than he usually displayed, his muscles watery from hunger.
 

Annie glanced over her shoulder at the darkening road. “No thank you.” She passed him the baby and climbed over after him, stumbling and falling to the dirt driveway, then standing and brushing herself off.

“Let’s go,” she said.

As they crested the hill, they saw animals—cattle, horses, goats, dogs. People lived here, or the animals would have scattered. The fences were in good repair, and the house, well, it was a fairy tale house, complete with a white picket fence and smoke coming out of the chimney.
 

But he couldn’t let his excitement overwhelm his good sense. He knew how he’d welcome strangers at dusk, and it wouldn’t be with open arms. His leverage was wriggling in his arms.
 

He handed the baby to Annie so his hand free to grab the pistol at his hip. He hoped the occupants didn’t see that as a threat, but they had to understand where he was coming from.

The porch light came on, startling him into stopping, and he realized that the hum he’d been hearing was from a generator. He lifted his hands away from his hips and stepped slightly away from Annie when an older gentleman walked out on the porch, a shotgun leveled at his chest.

“I’m willing to work for some food,” he called across the distance. “I’ve got a new mother and infant here who need food. I don’t have anything to trade, but I’ll do any job you need me to do.”

“You armed?”

“Yes, sir, we both are. Dare not be, out there.”

“Leave your weapons where you stand.”

He sure as hell didn’t want to do that. Look what had happened the last time he’d been unarmed. But he was desperate, so he placed his guns and knives on the gravel drive, then took the baby as Annie did the same, looking into his eyes as she did so. He wanted to reassure her, but he couldn’t be sure. He only knew they had no choice.

“The lady and the baby can come up,” the man said. “And you move away from those guns.”

Aaron moved two body lengths into the grass, away from the weapons, which seemed to satisfy the old man. Annie walked slowly up the path, the baby awkward in her arms.
 

A woman burst out of the house then, past the old man to Annie and the baby. She peeled back the blanket to look at the infant’s face, then wrapped an arm around Annie, who stiffened, and guided her into the house.

Aaron relaxed his stance to show he was willing to wait, that the safety and health of Annie and the baby were of utmost importance.

“You military?” the man asked, gun still aimed as Annie and the woman disappeared into the house.

“Yes, sir, Navy. Captain Aaron Jennings.”

“The hell you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?”

“Long story, sir.”

The man relaxed his hold on the gun, aiming at Aaron’s feet instead, and inclined his head toward the house as if listening to what was going on.
 

“When was the last time you ate? You look like death.”

“Day before yesterday, sir.”

The man shouldered the gun. “Stow it with the ‘sir.’ I was a staff sergeant, Captain. I’m Bill Gunther. Is the young lady your wife?”

“No, sir. Like I said, long story.”