Yield (75 page)

“
Alright,
”
Devin says. He looks up at the familiar sight of a teddy-toting child sitting up in what he always called the
“
captain
’
s chair.
”
A hint of jealousy sparkles from his eyes.
“
If you do need a break,
”
he adds,
“
these shoulders have carried more than a few adventurous young hooligans.
”

Isabel glances over at Devin. She smiles as the brash Brit
’
s softer side finally shows through.
“
And you didn
’
t want them to come,
”
she nudges.

“
Oh, I
’
ll be fine,
”
Jacob says.
“
It
’
s more the knees I have to worry about these days. Had a few sprains and blowouts over the years on tough landings. Needless to say, I don
’
t jump out of many airplanes anymore. Waste of a perfectly good aircraft, if you ask me.
”

The Creole
’
s blistered hands stretch out toward the warmth of his fire drum. The morning air feels brisker than normal, much colder than any March he can remember. It
’
s like the moisture has all been sucked from the air, leaving only a frigid sort of emptiness behind. His breath hangs in it. His fused eyelids still see the same brilliant white that now follows him everywhere he goes
,
even into sleep, but the blind man can feel the steam freezing just as it leaves his mouth. He shivers.

Bodies around the rusted Seattle warehouse slowly come to life. Their motivation seeps out almost as quickly when they realize their nightmares have not ceased with the new day.

The haggard commune watches one of the newcomers
’
rustling movements growing louder beside them. Their annoyance stares back through the crackling flames.

Devin stuffs the torn navy suit-jacket he used as a pillow back into his bag.
“
You heard the news report,
”
Devin growls.
“
We
’
ve got to get the blooming hell out of here and book on. No one knows where these bastards are going to hit next.
”

“
I know,
”
Isabel yawns.
“
But not all of us are morning people, Devin. It takes some of us just a bit longer to rejoin the human race. Shouldn
’
t we wait until it warms up anyway?
”
The pregnant woman pulls a purple Huskies blanket over her and Terra
’
s shoulders like a shawl.
“
We did have a late night, you know.
”

“
So sorry to inconvenience you, love,
”
he says. His normally cheerful accent is thick with sarcasm this morning. He picks up the black bag and slings it across his body, adjusting the gun barrels to run diagonally along his back.

The fireman sighs. He tries to summon the patience forged over his many years of
saving strangers
.
“
I could have just ducked out and let you all sleep in, Izz, but I didn
’
t. I can get you all down south to Portland, or to whatever help there is along the way
…
”
his voice trails off.
If Portland
’
s still there by then
…
Devin
’
s green eyes flicker.
“
If you
’
re coming, I
’
m leaving now. Simple as that,
”
he snaps.
“
I have a wife and two children of my own who need me every bit as much as you do.
”

Isabel glares back at him. Her own eyes flash with a confrontational reflex as natural to her as blinking. Isabel has never been one to back down from an argument, but there
’
s a growing dread in Devin
’
s face that for some reason saddens her. His eyes are wide with it even though his words are sharp with anger.

“
Alright,
”
she concedes.
“
Don
’
t get your knickers in a knot.
”
Isabel pulls the purple blanket off her shoulders and tucks the rest of it gently around Terra
’
s body like a cocoon. The pregnant flight attendant rocks her front-heavy body back and forth, trying awkwardly to stand.

“
Not very polite to abandon an expectant mother, son,
”
a gravelly voice scolds from behind them. The man
’
s chiseled hand, weathered by years harder than most, reaches down and pulls Isabel easily to her feet.

Devin turns, irritated at the stranger
’
s harsh words. A
pair of
steely blue eyes stare back at him. Something inside them stops Devin
’
s quick tongue in its tracks.

“
Thank you,
”
Isabel says in surprise.

Jacob Leder smiles and tips his head politely. The man
’
s military crew cut still looks crisp, but his face shows more weariness than the ex-Ranger normally allows.
His
shoulders are squared back and precise under his button-up jean shirt, like they were sculpted from stone and carved off the edges of his thick neck. His eyes instantly size up the redhead.

“
I wasn
’
t going to leave her,
”
Devin blurts, his face growing flushed.
“
I just
…
”
The fireman tries to shake the same feeling of embarrassment he used to get from his Catholic schoolteachers. Public punishment didn
’
t work back then either.

He stands up straight and thrusts his shoulders back.
“
What business is it of yours anyway, bloke?
”

“
It
’
s not,
”
Jacob says. His deep voice rumbles even though he tries to speak softly.
“
I just don
’
t like seeing ladies mistreated.
”

“
Mistreated?!
”
Devin shouts.
“
Are you bloody serious? I
’
ve helped this lot get through hell and back.
”

“
Easy, son. Just call
‘
em as I see
‘
em. I
’
m not exactly bashful, case you missed that. Just never could keep my mouth shut,
”
the soldier smiles disarmingly. His eyes are still hard as granite.
“
Name
’
s Jacob,
”
he says, extending a hand.
“
Brigadier General Jacob Leder. Retired.
”

Devin reluctantly reaches out. He regrets it immediately. Devin winces as the 57-year-old
’
s grip crushes down harder than guys
’
in his firehouse half this man
’
s age.
“
Devin,
”
the fireman says through gritted teeth.

“
Not trying to intrude, son. But I heard you mention Portland,
”
Jacob says. He glances over his right shoulder. A tawny-haired girl shyly peeks out from behind him.
“
This little spark plug is my granddaughter, Sierra. I
’
m trying to get her back to my youngest in Portland. Don
’
t let the shy act fool you, though. She
’
s as ferocious as they come.
”

Isabel kneels down in front of the girl, pouting her face in mock seriousness.
“
Such a look, Sierra. That
’
s how this one makes me feel, too,
”
she says, motioning up towards Devin.

The little girl
’
s auburn eyes drift up from her tightly-clutched teddy bear to Isabel. Sierra pouts defiantly back. Her eyebrows are forcibly creased into a scowl. Gradually, like a ray of sunshine following the storm, a smile cracks through. It soon spreads across her face.

“
There it is,
”
Isabel says, her own forgotten smile returning.

“
Figure since you
’
re heading that direction anyway,
”
Jacob starts in a softer tone than he
’
s used to,
“
maybe you could use a little more company.
”
The retired soldier hates asking for favors. He
’
d rather be on the business end of a bazooka in some God-forsaken rainforest.

Jacob wipes at the annoying grit along his forehead, shifting his weight. The militar
il
y-precise creases and immaculate clothes from his KOMO interview yesterday have been replaced by scuffed-up khakis and a navy jean shirt rolled crisply at the sleeves. His coarse, blue eyes carry with them a maturing weariness, combined with a strained veneer of optimism whenever his granddaughter is around. He pulls her closer.

“
We
’
ve had all the company we could handle the past few days, mate,
”
Devin says. His eyes narrow on the stranger.

“
I know the feeling, son,
”
Jacob presses,
“
but we
’
re not that kind of company. If it
’
s feeding us you
’
re worried about, I brought more than enough MREs for myself and Sierra.
”
He pats the bottom of an Army-issued knapsack over his left shoulder.

“
Come on, Devin,
”
Isabel whispers. She puts a persuasive hand up to the fireman
’
s tensed forearm.
“
I don
’
t think these two are going to ambush us and leave you for dead along the way.
”

“
Why do I always get twisted into the villain?
”
the fireman asks. Frustration shoots through him as the issues of everyone else continue to compound his own.
“
I know that, love. But the bigger the party, the slower we all go.
Y
ou
two
don
’
t look like the quickest of companions
, mate
.
”

The grandfatherly sparkle in Jacob
’
s eyes vanishes instantly.
“
Son,
”
he growls,
“
I was jumping out of planes into jungles you wouldn
’
t survive a day in well before you were ever conceived. We can handle ourselves. I just thought I
’
d play nice and give Sierra someone to talk to other than her cranky old granddad.
”

“
You may sound all civilized and proper, Devin, but you can really be an ass.
”
Chris leans back from beside Terra, his hands stretched toward the fire drum.

“
Unbelievable,
”
Devin mutters. He glances around at all the chilly faces staring so expectantly back at him. Sierra
’
s big auburn eyes melt through his remaining objections.
“
Alright,
”
he sighs, storming off to the warehouse doors.
“
Let
’
s get this blooming show on the road then.
”

*  *  *

The rain commences anew, washing in waves across the scattered rings of damage below. Layers of billowing, burgundy clouds hang low over the dead city. They obscure the sun and cracked sky just beyond. Deep reds from the morning light paint the landscape, sending the ruins out into a bloody horizon.