FORSAKEN: THE SYSTEMIC SERIES (20 page)

Mad Dog walked over to Ava.  “You alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Ava said, rubbing her neck.  “Fine.”  She looked at him.  “Thanks for covering my ass.”

“No sweat,” he nodded.  “Guess I’d better get to work.  Sounds like we’re going up against the families.”

“Yeah,” Ava said.  “Sounds like it.”             

* * *

Ava was sure that Jake would be ready to pack things up and call it quits when he’d learned they’d encroached upon the territory of the Three Families.  She was positive he had at least that much sense.  There was no way they could take on the families.

Unfortunately, she’d given Jake too much credit and he’d jumped the gun quicker than she’d expected on the most recent raid.  She knew Jake was an egomaniac, but this was ridiculous. His image of himself and his delusions of grandeur were apparently overriding any common sense now.  Ava had miscalculated, and she had built him up too much.  Now Jake was starting to believe his own hype.  It was like he had some sort of Hitler complex and seemed to have a desire to go down with the ship, although from the way he was acting, it was almost as though he thought they could win a fight against the families.  And maybe – with the support of their armor – they could win
one
battle; but not a prolonged war.

It was the best they could hope for. 

But maybe she had underestimated Jake.  Then again, no she hadn’t.  She knew that deep down he was still that same loser she’d met on Chicago’s south side who was driving a little piece of shit used car and who couldn’t or wouldn’t hold down an honest job.  While the post-flu world had changed him, it hadn’t changed him enough.  What she
had
underestimated was Jake’s ability to believe his own warped bullshit.  He was content to be the megalomaniacal ruler of his own tiny kingdom.  He had his food, his booze, his smokes, his guns, his armor, and his little private army that he could march around and treat like slaves.  That was enough.  He had no desire to achieve more, nor did he have the vision to do so.  To Jake, this was Shangri-La. 

Ava recognized where she’d faltered in her planning.  She’d made it too comfortable for him.  She’d organized things too well, and now it was screwing up her own plans…royally.  This was the first part of her preparations that hadn’t gone accordingly, and it scared the living shit out of her because it was the focal point upon which everything else hinged.  Instead of running to the safety of a new location as Ava thought Jake would, he wanted to stay and fight, facing the full on wrath of the Three Families.  Ava had no desire to die in Atlanta.  She hated Atlanta.  It was hot, boring, and ugly.  It’s why she’d hoped that making this most recent hit on the family-controlled gas station would force Jake to pull up stakes and move on to a new location…a location of Ava’s choosing rather than Jake’s.  But with Jake at the helm, it looked like the odds of that happening were decreasing by the hour.  Every minute they remained in their little rat hole decreased the odds of escape.  She felt trapped.  It was like they were holding out in the Alamo, just waiting to be overrun by the Mexican army.

Chapter 17

I don’t think I’d ever seen a dry spell last as long as the one through which we suffered in Olsten’s blistering-hot summer.  It’d been over two months with little more than a five-minute drizzle one late-July afternoon.  It wasn’t enough to even dampen the dust.

As we lay in bed late one balmy night after Jason had fallen asleep, Claire wriggled up close to me.

“You’re worried, aren’t you?” she asked, laying her hand gently upon my bare chest.

“Aren’t I always,” I half snorted in the darkness.

“More than usual though,” she said, her breath soft on my neck.

I decided to break the bad news to her. 

“The water level at the pond is low,” I said.  I decided to leave it at that.  I didn’t feel it necessary to tell her just
how
worryingly low it was.  And I definitely didn’t want to get into the fact that I’d seen signs of others making use of the same watering hole.  “Seems like
you’ve
been in better spirits lately though,” I added, looking to change the subject.

“Oh,” she said nonchalantly, trying to sound surprised, but I knew better.

“You were glad to see Joanna go, weren’t you?” I probed.

There was silence in the darkness.

“It’s okay, you can be honest,” I said.  “I won’t think you a bad person if it was a relief to see your only competition for the group’s best looking woman take a hike.” 

We needed to talk about it.  I could tell that the subject had been weighing on her.

There was more silence.  Finally Claire said, “Was there something between you two?”

Now it was my turn to consider my answer carefully.  “Yes,” I said.  “There
was
a connection.  She was a beautiful, strong, intelligent woman, but it never moved past that.”  I decided not to mention the kiss back in Tennessee.  It hadn’t led anywhere and it certainly wouldn’t do my efforts to reassure Claire any good.  Plus, it wasn’t me who had initiated the kiss, and I hadn’t even kissed back.  “She wanted more with me,” I went on.  “But both of us had the respect for you and the sense to realize that there would never be more.  That was the main reason she left.  She needed someone and wanted to give Shane a father.  Since I couldn’t be that man, and she realized that I would never leave you, she needed to find someone who could fill the role.”

I could feel Claire exhale heavily on my neck and then sniffle.

“Don’t cry,” I said surprised.  “You believe me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Claire said, half laughing, half sniffling.  “That’s why I’m crying.  I’m so happy…so relieved to hear you say it is all.”  She hugged me tight in the blackness of the night.  “You’re so good,” was all she could muster.

“I try,” I said.  “Sometimes it’s awfully hard.”

“She
was
beautiful,” Claire said.

“Oh,
now
you say she was beautiful,” I scoffed.  “Now that she’s gone.” 

“Well, I damn sure wasn’t going to say it when she was
here
.  I didn’t dare give my competition a leg up on me.  I’ve been jealous of that woman since you damn near killed her running her over with the car back in southern Illinois.  Do you know how hard it’s been being nice to her all this time?”

“You could have told me when she was here,” I nudged Claire playfully in the ribs.  “Maybe we could have worked out an arrangement…maybe a little ménage e trois?”

“You’re bad,” Claire laughed, sliding herself up and over to straddle me.

“If I was bad, there’s plenty of ways I could have shown it with ‘that woman’ as you refer to her.” I reached around her waist and smacked her butt lightly and then gave it a squeeze. 

Claire bent down and kissed me on the neck, the cheek, and then the lips.  “But you didn’t.”

“Nope,” I said.  “I saved myself all for you.”

She kept kissing me in the darkness.  It was a steamy Georgia night, and our bodies were doing nothing to decrease the stifling heat inside our bedroom, but Claire felt so good on top of me that it didn’t matter.

“Mind if I at least think about her once in a while when we’re having sex?” I ribbed Claire again, trying to be playful, but not wanting to take it too far.

“Now
that
I can deal with,” she said as she kissed me again, and again, slowly starting a rhythmic, pulsing grind of herself against me.

We enjoyed one another as passionately as we had in a long time…maybe ever, the emotions of my fidelity to Claire and the relief that we both felt in one another’s honesty taking over.               

Claire eventually rolled off me, both of us exhausted and satisfied.  She left one leg draped across my lower abdomen.  We lay there, breathing heavily, contentedly.  I rubbed the leg she’d left upon me with a hand. 

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“My pleasure,” I said.

“No…” she paused, “…for…for staying true.  I know it must have been hard.”

I breathed in deeply, “Well, in some ways yes…but in some ways no.  Let’s just say the body was willing but the mind wouldn’t comply.  Plus, you shouldn’t have to thank me for such things.  But since you are; thank you too.”

“For what?” she said.

“For making my resistance so easy.  There was never
really
a choice to have to make.”

She hugged me close again and kissed me on the cheek.  “I love you,” she said dreamily.

“I love you too,” I said, reaching down and giving her tight little butt a final squeeze and then leaving my hand there as we both drifted contentedly off to sleep.

* * *

The next morning, the group sat munching their breakfasts on the front porch in the relatively cool morning air. A light fog lingered, masking parts of our tiny town and waiting to be burned off by the cruel and ever-present Georgia sun.

After we finished our morning meals – which had largely consisted of slices of bread and pieces of apple pie that Sharron had been churning out, and which, for better or worse, had as of late become regular staples of our diet – Claire pulled me aside. 

“Will you watch Jason for a few minutes while I run over to Mary’s?  I noticed that he needs a few more pairs of shorts, and I need to look for another pair of shoes for him?”

“Sure, no problem,” I said.  “We’ll hang out here on the front porch and play with toys.  Sound good, buddy?” I asked him.

Jason looked up at me from the piece of pie he’d been working on; a bit of crust stuck to the side of his face.  “Trucks with daddy!  Yay!”

“Guess it’s fine with him too,” I smiled at Claire.

She waited as I took our dishes inside and came back out carrying a bucketful of dusty and dirt-covered metal and plastic toy cars, trucks, haulers, and assorted heavy equipment.  I dumped them out on the porch and Jason dove in, immediately sorting them into piles that I’m sure made sense to him, but to which I could assign no such order. 

“I won’t be long,” Claire called behind her as she made her way down the front porch steps and across the street to the resale shop. 

The others were busy taking their plates inside, cleaning up after breakfast, and getting ready for work out in the garden, which was now coming along quite nicely and starting to repay our efforts with a sizeable selection of harvestable items.

“I’ll be out to help as soon as Claire gets back,” I called after Sharron as she headed inside.

Soon, Jason and I were alone on the porch.  He had designated a small pile of the crummiest vehicles for me to play with while he kept the majority for himself, shoving them about haphazardly while making puttering, revving, and vrooming motor noises.

After just a few minutes of this, from the corner of my eye, I noticed movement. 

It was Claire. 

She stopped halfway across the street, beckoning me to her with a hand. 

I didn’t want to leave Jason alone, so I said to him, “Oops, looks like mommy wants us buddy.  Come on, she probably needs you to try on some shoes.”

“Awww,” he moaned.  “No shoes.  I go barefoot.”

“Sorry partner; got to have shoes,” I told him, standing from my pathetic pile of toy junkers and clunkers.  “Let’s go,” I took him by the hand.

Claire waited as we made it down the front porch steps.

“Something’s wrong,” she whispered as we approached.

“What do you mean?” I said, instantly alert.

“I think someone’s been in Mary’s,” she continued to whisper.  “I mean…besides us.  Come on,” she turned. “I’ll show you.”

“Hold on,” I said, grabbing her hand, handing Jason over to her, and then feeling around behind me for the .44 that I always kept in my waistband now.  After our previous encounters, it was almost a part of me.  Instead of carrying a wallet with cash, credit cards and identification, I now just carried a handgun.  “Are you sure no one’s in there right now?”

I didn’t want her – and especially Jason – following me into a potentially dangerous situation.

“Yes,” she said. “I looked all around.  No one’s there.  It might just have been an animal…I’m not really sure.”

She led us around back to the building’s rear entrance.  The back door was standing wide open.  We walked inside and into the main display room of the resale shop.  Clothing was strewn all over the place.  Shirts and pants were scattered across the floor or lay in disheveled piles of disarray upon tables and shelves.

“We didn’t leave it this way the last time we were in here,” said Claire.  “And I’m almost positive we closed the door behind us.”  She paused and said nervously, hopefully, “You think an animal could have found its way inside and done this?”

I looked around at the array of clothing that had been scattered about the space.  My mind immediately flashed to the tracks at the pond and I wondered if it was the same person or people who had done this. 

“I mean, I guess animals are a possibility,” I said, not really believing it.  “But I don’t really think it’s probable.  Raccoons are mischievous, but their damage is usually done in the hunt for food, not a new pair of shoes or some summer duds.  This looks more like people to me.  You sure you guys didn’t go wild and leave the place torn up like this on your drunken shopping extravaganza, or that maybe one of you didn’t sneak back over here on your own?”