The Survivalist (Solemn Duty) Page 2

  “You’re beautiful. Satisfied?”

  “The most beautiful woman you’ve ever been with?”

  “That’s vanity talking.”

  She shrugged. “So? A woman’s entitled to a little vanity.”

  He thought of Jessie lying next to him, the moon lighting her smooth skin. Comparing her to Brooke would be like comparing a rose to a diamond. Who could say which was more beautiful?

  He cleared his throat. “We need to stay focused on the matter at hand.”

  “Fine. But I don’t see that it’s that complicated. I’ll stay here while you go for supplies.”

  Her offer surprised him. “You’ll stay here, alone?”

  “Of course alone. You said they wouldn’t find us.”

  “I said it’s unlikely, that’s all.”

  “Unlikely is good enough. It’s not as if you’re going to be gone for long. You’re not, right?”

  “An hour or two at the most.”

  “I think I can take care of myself for that long. I’m a woman of many resources, you know.”

  “Oh believe me, I know.” Despite his words, he hesitated.

  She smiled. “I’ll be okay.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She gave a little shrug. “It’s not like we have much of a choice. You go and find us a few gallons of gasoline, and while you’re gone, I’ll see if I can fix up a little food from the kitchen.”

  “If you’re hungry, I have some MREs in my pack.”

  “Real food, if you don’t mind.”

  Mason mulled on the idea. He didn’t like leaving Brooke alone, but their current situation wasn’t very tenable either.

  “Fine, but at least let me leave Bowie here with you.”

  Brooke leaned around to see that the wolfhound had settled near the bathroom door, gnawing on a toilet bowl brush propped upright between his paws.

  “Uh, how do I put this delicately? No.”

  Mason wasn’t surprised. Brooke and Bowie had never quite found their groove.

  “All right. Stay out of sight. We’ll be back as quickly as we can.”

  She brought his hand up to her mouth and kissed his fingers.

  “Be careful.”

  Mason gently pulled free and turned to Bowie.

  “Come on, boy. You’re with me.”

  Chapter 2

  Tanner and Samantha sat atop Major, a thick-chested Quarter Horse given to them by Gran as payment for an unspeakable act of mercy. They had been riding north from Fort Knox for more than two hours, and Samantha’s backside was reminding her of why automobiles had been invented.

  She leaned around to get a better look at the railroad tracks that trailed off into the distance.

  “Are you sure we’re headed the right way?”

  “Yep.”

  “Even if we are, there’s no telling how far away the train is after all this time.”

  “Nope.”

  “But you really think we’ll find it?”

  “Yep.”

  She leaned around a little further to see his face.

  “Are you back to using one syllable words?”

  He gave Major a little nudge to keep him centered in the tracks.

  “I’m pacing myself.”

  Samantha settled back, and when she did, she noticed a wet spot on the back of Tanner’s shirt from where she had been resting against him.

  “I think I may have drooled on your back while I was sleeping.”

  “Nothing wrong with a little drool. You feel any better?”

  She rolled her head around in a slow circle. It was sore from where Felix, the drug addict, had choked her. But all in all, she felt as well as could be expected.

  “I’m okay. You?”

  “Right as rain.”

  She pursed her lips. “I’ve decided not to tell Issa about my dying.”

  “Have you now?”

  “I just don’t think she’d understand.”

  “Mothers do have a hard time with things like that.”

  “Plus, it’s not like I stayed dead.”

  “True.”

  “So, it’s agreed then? We’ll keep it just between the two of us?”

  “Our little secret.”

  “Good.” She settled against him and stared off in the distance. “Where do these tracks go anyway?”

  “They follow the Dixie Highway up through Louisville.”

  “Will we have to go through the city? You know how dangerous those can be.”

  “If we stick to the tracks, we should be able to skip most of the fanfare.”

  Accepting that there was little reason to debate it further, she reached back and gently patted Major on the rump.

  “I hope he’s not straining too much carrying both of us. You’re pretty heavy.”

  “I think you mean we’re pretty heavy.”

  “Sure,” she said with a grin, “that’s exactly what I meant.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, we’ll ditch the pony for a car first chance we get.”

  “Do you think he’ll be okay without Dusty?” The image of the poor animal being blown to smithereens by a land mine outside of Fort Knox still burned in her mind.

  “He’ll be fine.”

  “How do you know?”

  “The world’s more suited to running free now.”

  “Is that what we’re doing? Running free?”

  He smiled. “Yeah, Sam, that’s exactly what we’re doing.”

  That seemed to satisfy her, and they rode in silence for a while, watching the world pass at the speed that only happens on horseback. True to Tanner’s words, they occasionally caught glimpses of the Dixie Highway as they made their way through West Point, Orell, and Kosmosdale. Major wasn’t in any kind of hurry, and it took three long hours to reach the southernmost outskirts of Louisville. During those hours, their most interesting encounter was a pack of wild dogs. Fortunately, none were larger than a Beagle, and therefore, of little concern to a horse and two armed riders.

  As they passed through Valley Station, Samantha caught sight of a building immediately to the left of the tracks. Its main entrance faced away from them, but they could see a sign in the oval parking lot that read “Southwest Regional Library.”

  “Look,” she said, pointing with excitement, “a library.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said, making no effort to change course.

  “Can we go in? I really need something to read.”

  “While you’re riding a horse?”

  “I meant for when we get home. I’ve read just about every book Father Paul collected for school, and believe me, they’re not that interesting. Can we stop and get a few, pleeease?”

  The detour was barely fifty yards, and Tanner saw no real harm in taking it. The gold train had a three-month head start. A few more minutes one way or the other wasn’t going to change the outcome of their treasure hunt.

  “All right,” he said, giving the reins a tug, “but you carry whatever you get.”

  Samantha’s eyes lit up as they approached the library. She had always loved books, and the thought of getting to pick her favorites from an entire library full was almost too good to be true.

  The instant Major stopped on a small plot of grass in front the building, she slid off with the smooth precision of a professional bareback rider.

  “Come on, come on,” she said, motioning for Tanner to hurry.

  He let out an extended yawn and slowly climbed down from the horse.

  “What’s the hurry? The books have been in there for a whole year. It’s not like someone’s going to come along and check them out.”

  “Are you kidding? Through those doors are thousands, no millions, of exciting stories. Think about it, Tanner, millions!”

  “Ooh boy.”

  He looped Major’s reins around the branch of a nearby tree. Grass nearly a foot tall surrounded it on all sides, and the horse took to it the way Tanner would to a bacon cheeseburger.

  Samantha reached do
wn and tore off a thick blade of grass.

  “It doesn’t seem like much of a meal. Can he really get everything he needs just from grass?”

  Tanner patted Major’s side. “Grass and water. That’s pretty much it.”

  She held the blade out to Major, but he ignored the offer, choosing instead the much larger feast before him.

  Samantha flicked it away and turned to face the library.

  Showtime.

  Tanner pulled the Mare’s Leg from a leather loop he had made next to the saddle. Crafted by Henry Repeating Arms, the Mare’s Leg was a throwback to the days of the Old West. The cut-down repeating rifle sported a twelve-inch octagonal barrel and a lever action that, in the right hands, could be worked as fast as many pistols. With its handcrafted American Walnut stock, large loop lever, and brass finish, it was a perfect replica of the weapon used by Steve McQueen in the TV Western, “Wanted: Dead or Alive.”

  Samantha grinned. “Are you expecting to fight book monsters?”

  “Darlin’, I wouldn’t put anything past this world.”

  That seemed to give her pause, and Samantha took a moment to check the Bond Arms derringer hanging at her side. It was loaded with two fresh .45 Colt cartridges, but with only two spare rounds in her pocket, there was no room for waste.

  Leaving Major to enjoy his lunch, they cautiously approached the front doors to the library. There were four doors in total, and all were closed. Tanner gave the first one a tug.

  Locked.

  He checked the other three and found them to be equally secure, which accounted for why books were not strewn all across the parking lot. Tanner remained absolutely convinced that people liked to tear stuff up every chance they got, and the garbage-covered planet seemed to support his theory.

  Turning to Samantha, he said, “I know how you hate breaking into places, so I’ll leave it for you to decide.”

  She leaned her face against the glass door and peered inside. Endless stacks of books beckoned to her as sure as the Eye of Horus.

  “It seems like such a shame. No one’s ever going to read those books again if we don’t get the doors open. Some might even say that it would be a crime for us not to break in.” She cut her eyes at Tanner. “What do you think?”

  “I think you’ve officially mastered the fine art of rationalizing.”

  He reared back and carefully struck the door’s glass window with the butt of the Mare’s Leg. A star-shaped crack appeared. He hit it again, and this time the small window shattered inward. Carefully reaching through, he turned the deadbolt and pulled the door open.

  “And we’re in.”

  Samantha’s reluctance at being an accomplice to a B&E quickly faded as she stepped inside and was immersed in the captivating world of intriguing stories and fanciful artwork. The right side had been set up as a children’s area, filled with brightly colored tabletops and murals decorated with storybook characters. To the left was the check-in counter, and further in, sat computer workstations and a handful of waist-high wooden racks displaying what were now terribly-outdated periodicals. Beyond those were scores of eight-foot-high shelves lined with books of every size and color.

  She paused, struggling to decide where to begin.

  “What are you looking for?” Tanner said, hoping to speed her along.

  “I’ll know it when I see it.”

  He reached down and picked up a children’s book, the cover adorned with a hippopotamus carrying a box of donuts. He held it out to her.

  “Something like this, maybe?”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “What?” He flipped it open to show her the brightly-colored pages. The story appeared to be about a hippo looking for someone worthy enough to share his donuts with. “It’s got lots of pictures.”

  Samantha rolled her eyes and strode deeper into the library. As she disappeared behind a long bookshelf, Tanner pulled a chair out from behind the counter and sat. With the Mare’s Leg resting in his lap, he leaned back, crossed his arms, and proceeded to take a power nap. It wasn’t that he necessarily had anything against books, just that sleep offered its own reward.

  Tanner wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but when he reopened his eyes, Samantha had yet to return.

  “Come on, Sam,” he called. “Let’s hit the trail.”

  No answer.

  He slowly got to his feet. “I mean it. We’re burning daylight.”

  Still nothing.

  Tanner felt his stomach tighten as he started toward the bookcases.

  “Sam, you all right?” The image of her lying dead on the floor in Fort Knox flashed before his eyes. His pace quickened, and by the time he rounded the corner of the bookcase, he was holding his breath.

  Samantha lay on the floor, her head resting on her backpack, a large stack of books sitting beside her. She cradled an oversized hardback in both hands, her eyes darting back and forth as she escaped into its cream-colored pages.

  “Sam,” he growled.

  “Huh?” she said, looking up.

  Tanner thought about giving her a hard time for not answering, but said only, “It’s getting late. We gotta go.”

  “Right.” She sat up and quickly gathered a couple of the books from the floor.

  “Those the ones you’re bringing?”

  She looked down at the stack that remained on the floor and made a pained expression.

  “It’s hard to decide. They’re all so good.” As if to prove her point, she held a book out for him to see. “This one’s about a ghost cat that’s trying to help a little girl get over being afraid of the dark? Sounds sweet, right?”

  He shrugged. “I suppose.”

  “And this one,” she said, holding up another book, “is about a carnival that only comes to town once every hundred years. But when it does, all kinds of freaky things happen.”

  She quickly stuffed both books into her pack, and then as if an afterthought, grabbed a third one and forced it in on top of the others.

  “What was that one?”

  She stood up and slipped the backpack over a shoulder.

  “It’s about a boy who dreams about the same girl every night, only to actually meet her while vacationing with his parents.” She smiled. “I think there’s a lot of kissing in it.”

  “Oh great,” he moaned, turning to leave.

  She giggled and followed after him.

  As they passed the check-in counter, Samantha noticed a small handwritten note lying atop a stack of books.

  “What’s this?” she said, picking up the note and reading it aloud. “Every person’s idea of a good book is as unique as the individual. These are a few that we chose to read before our passing. Kindly consider them when making your selection.”

  She glanced at the stack of books and read a few of the titles: The Odyssey, Twilight, The Hobbit, The DaVinci Code, Gone with the Wind, The Kite Runner. She picked up a small book titled, “The Old Man and the Sea,” and quickly perused the back cover.

  She held it up for Tanner to see.

  “What do you think this one’s about?”

  “Hmm…” he said, pretending to think, “I’m going out on a limb here, but could it be about an old man who goes out to sea?”

  “Who knows?” she said with a shrug. “Might be good.” She worked it down into her pack next to the others.

  As she did, Tanner spotted a door behind the counter that was ajar.

  He gestured toward it. “Let’s take a look.”

  Following after him, she said, “I thought we were in a hurry.”

  “We are, but doors are open for a reason.”

  Her brow furrowed. It sounded like the kind of mumbo jumbo that Tanner frequently tried to pass off as wisdom. Normally, she called him out on such things, but today she was feeling forgiving.

  When he pushed open the door, they found a narrow set of stairs leading down. With only the light from the library windows, the staircase quickly disappeared into a pool of darkness.

/>   Samantha pulled out her flashlight and clicked it on. They could see the outline of shelves below.

  “This must be where they kept the really old books, you know, the ones with leather covers and fancy parchment paper.”

  Tanner looked over at her to see if she was being serious or just having a little fun.

  She returned the look. “What?”

  “You think librarians have secret chambers filled with dusty tomes?”

  She seemed surprised by the question.

  “Where else would they keep them if not in a library?”

  Unable to find fault with her logic, Tanner shrugged and started down the stairs. Samantha followed after him, doing her best to illuminate the stairs. At the bottom of the staircase, it opened up into a room roughly thirty feet on a side. The entire space was filled with shelves, each stacked neatly with shiny metallic-colored paint cans. There were no windows, and the walls were made of cement, making it seem more like a dungeon than a library.

  Samantha swept the room with her flashlight.

  “What is this place?”

  “Must have been a city storm shelter that they converted.”

  “And the cans?”

  Tanner walked over to the closest shelf and picked up one of the silver-colored cans. A small white label on the side read, “Sylvetta Arugula.”

  “Are those what I think they are?” she said, her face wrinkling.

  “Don’t know. What do you think they are?”

  “Ashes of dead people.”

  He couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “They’re not ashes. They’re seeds.”

  “Seeds?”

  “Arugula is a plant. People make salads out of it.”

  “Now how would you know that? You’ve never eaten a salad in your life.”

  He grinned. “No, but I’ve seen folks eating them.” Tanner set it down and picked up a second can. The label read, “Bloody Butcher Corn.”

  “Gross,” said Samantha. “Is it made from meat?”

  “It’s just red corn.”

  “There’s such a thing?”

  “Darlin’, there’s corn of every color imaginable.” He used the edge of his knife to pop off the lid. Inside were several small packets stuffed down into a layer of dried rice. “See, just seeds.”

  She scooped out some of the rice and let it filter through her fingers.