Yield (74 page)

“
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y-precise creases and immaculate clothes from his KOMO interview yesterday have been replaced by scuffed-up khakis and a navy jean shirt rolled crisply at the sleeves.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.

Devin
’
s group moves quietly into the morning air. Uncertainty and weariness travel with them along the glistening downtown streets. Water running across the asphalt looks crimson under the fiery sky.

Smoldering car frames rest beside the skeletal aftermath of buildings. Decapitated structures are everywhere, seeming almost commonplace now as Devin leads the others back toward I-5. No other signs of life move around them. Only the wind still breathes, tossing random scraps of scorched paper through the wreckage.

Chris
’
s arm rests protectively around Terra
’
s shoulders. They walk just behind Devin in the rain. Terra clutches tightly to her guardian, her fingers digging into the side of his Seattle High sweatshirt. The violence of last night still haunts her blue eyes, but somehow the explosive release
has also brought with it a glimmer of something new. Something
…
unexpected.

It
’
s as if all of
her
pent-up emotion and pain roared out with that singular bullet. There
’
s a fragile peace now on her face, just starting to blossom after the winter
’
s unforgiving frost.

Chris glances down at the jet black hair blowing around him. The shadows normally covering the angles of Terra
’
s face have been pushed back by the ruddy morning light. Her sapphire eyes now seem to sparkle at the edges. The dull haze that covered them
yesterday
has almost disappeared.

Feeling his eyes upon her, Terra glances up. Her 6
’
7
”
protector looks deep in concentration, trying to gracefully slow his limbs to match her much shorter stride. A timid smile touches the corner of her lips.

Without warning, she pushes her shoulder into Chris, throwing him off balance. He stumbles a couple of steps before regaining his footing. A grin spreads across his
own
face after he returns the favor.

“
You two,
”
Isabel chuckles. She turns from their game back to the fractured landscape. Even in the chaos, a splinter of optimism builds with the new day. An indurate hope, like the life inside her, grows the f
a
rther they move from the dead city. Every step feels almost worthy of thanks now
,
a gift never to be taken for granted again.

She quickens her pace to join Devin and Jacob ahead of the teens. Sierra is perched happily on her Papa
’
s shoulders. Her feet kick out rhythmically to some random song in the girl
’
s head.

“
So, can
’
t you just call in some air support for us, General?
”
Isabel asks.
“
Thought the military took care of its own.
”

“
Most times, yes. But you piss off enough brass, and they stop answering your calls,
”
Jacob laughs. The 57-year-old isn
’
t even a hint out of breath as he talks
,
though he
’
s carrying both his bag and his granddaughter while matching Devin
’
s aggressive pace.
“
And it
’
s Jacob. I
’
ve been a civilian for a while now.
”

They walk down an undamaged on-ramp almost a mile south of the warehouse, joining the hundreds already gathered on the southbound interstate. Clusters of people from all walks of life walk together to flee the soulless remnants of Seattle.

“
Bet you
’
re glad to be retired from this mess,
”
the fireman says. He slows down, looking around at all the tortured faces stumbling along the freeway.

“
Don
’
t know about that,
”
Jacob says, his eyes lighting up.
“
Never been one to shrink from a good fight.
”

“
Hopefully just the ones you can win,
”
Devin says.

“
Most times. But scars can be good teachers, too. You don
’
t look like you
’
ve backed down from
many
either.
”

“
I used to run into burning buildings for a living, mate. Not the most brilliant of concepts.
”

“
That actually explains a lot,
”
Jacob laughs.

“
What does?
”

“
Why even though you might piss and moan, you helped these folks instead of leaving them back there,
”
Jacob says.
“
Knew there was something behind that. I just didn
’
t know why you were being such a prick to the lady.
”

“
You
’
re quite a direct chap, aren
’
t you?
”
Devin
s
hoots the ex-soldier a defensive glance.

“
Like I said.
”

“
And for the record, I was not being a prick,
”
the fireman says.
“
I just don
’
t want to wait while the whole blooming world decides to trot along with us.
”

“
There are six of us, Devin,
”
Isabel says.
“
Six. Why do men always exaggerate?
”

“
It helps us tell better stories,
”
Jacob says.
“
They get really good the more you tell them,
too
. Men are allowed a little creative license.
”

“
Not in my house,
”
Isabel says. She lays a hand on top of her large stomach.
“
I have four other creative licensees at home. Well, five, if you count my husband. He
’
s just a big dang kid anyway. But everything is such a huge deal with boys. I
’
ve never understood that.
”

Sierra nods in agreement from atop her granddad
’
s shoulders.

“
I knew you
’
d back me up, Sierra. And they say girls are the dramatic ones. Whatever,
”
Isabel whispers to the five-year-old.
“
So, how
’
s the view from up there?
”

Sierra shows the ruinous scene to her teddy bear before giving a reluctant thumbs-up.

“
Good deal. Just keep a look out for a drive-thru,
”
Isabel adds. She puts her hands on the little feet squirming hard against her belly.
“
Baby wants a breakfast burrito.
”

“
You going to be alright toting that beast around all day, mate?
”
Devin asks Jacob.
“
If she
’
s anything like mine, they
’
re a whole lot heavier than they look.
”

“
I was an Airborne Ranger, son. When you jump out of airplanes, you have to bring every damn thing you
’
re gonna need with you,
”
Jacob says.
“
I
’
ve gotten pretty used to walking through rough terrain with packs twice her size.
”