Page 29 of Stone Blind

Helen needed to do a quick inventory assessment. “Pear, we are down supplies of four canisters, and we need a reload. What do you have in the van we can use?”

“I have snacks and lollipops along with blankets and bandages. I carry no weapons other than the one for my personal safety,” she said.

“What kind of snacks?” Helen asked.

“Chips, cookies, animal crackers, juice boxes,” she said.

“Can you spare a little so Yield and I can have a bit to nosh on while we head to the next site? We also need more supplies. Do you know where we can get a reup?”

“Call it in, and Azrael will handle it for you,” Pear said, adding, “Good work you two.”

She walked away to get the kids settled and returned a moment later with snack packs for Yield and Cranberry. Pear stated she needed at least an hour to unload before she’d be ready to roll out to the next one.

Inside the F-150, Cranberry opened the bag of chips and passed it to Yield. She didn’t know why, but she used the straw on the drink box to punch in the hole on the juice container, insert the straw, and pass that to him as well.

“Mommy, did you want to cut the ends off my sammich too?” Yield asked sarcastically.

“No, I figured it is what your wife does when you’re driving so you can keep your good eye on the road,” she said. “We will need to move as soon as I make this call.”

“Okay, Ms. Scary,” Yield said, sipping the juice box like a child who’d been reprimanded for being naughty. He snacked on the chips as she made the call.

“How did you know?” Azrael asked.

“Instinct, plus I’m sitting beside a master tracker,” Cranberry said to her boss. “We know where the other two are. If we can hit them now before they have a chance to hide the inventory or find out, it would be wise. I have addresses. Want to make some magic?”

“Give me the details,” Azrael replied, jotting down the information.

Helen provided a bit more detail, “Pear said she needs an hour. It has been fifteen minutes. We also need a re-up on smoke grenades, flash bang thingy-ma-bobbers, and tear gas. I think the flash bang thingies would work a lot better in the element of surprise, but the window is tight before somebody starts making phone calls to lawyers and shit, sounding the alarm of the raid. We can go scout it out and report back if you like.”

“Send the coordinates for the re-up for Yield. Go ahead and make it happen,” Azrael said, disconnecting the line.

“She loves me; she just doesn’t know it yet,” Helen told Yield, who nearly spit out the juice he was sipping.

“You do seem to have an effect on people. Is that how you reeled in the Mustang?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but that stallion is wild and free to roam whatever pastures he chooses,” she said. “As am I, but I’m not hungry and ain’t looking to be fed.”

“Yeah, I hear you, but that man is a master tracker. His instincts come naturally, like yours. He figures out what people want and need and based on that intel, he moves accordingly. Did he teach you the same?”

“What that man has taught me is between me, him, and Jesus,” Helen said, offering a smile. “The question is, what will you leave me knowing, Mr. Yield, about the art of tracking and making assumptions?”

“Right now, I feel like I know nothing, so there’s that,” he said. “You seem to have had plenty of training before I got here.”

“My training is based on survival,” she told him. “I have a certain look. People want to talk to me, and outside of sometimes looking like an angry black woman ready to snap her fingers and roll her neck for coming at her wrong, I’m can also be very approachable. I vibrate at a different frequency which puts people at ease with me.”

“Yeah, noticed.”

Helen pulled a knife from the inner pocket of the jacket. She pushed the corner of juice box to a point, then cleanly sliced off the end. He watched her turn up the container to drink, avoiding the fight with the straw going into the hole. Until now, in his entire life and existence with juice boxes, it had never dawned on him to do such a thing or think such a thing was possible. The Cranberry thought differently.

Technicians were trained by the government in some form or another to color within the lines. The Cranberry, as far as he could tell, lived on the periphery of a line drawn for her by people who wanted to control her existence. Instinctually, she’d learn to observe and move accordingly. She was operating on instinct alone and thus far, everything was as she saw it, and he couldn’t argue with the logic.

“Thirty minutes have passed; let’s get this done so you can get a good night’s rest,” she said. “We close them both out tonight, I’ll drive us back to Apple’s, and you can sleep there, if that’s okay.”

“It’s okay,” he said, turning to take a look at the woman. He incorrectly made assumptions about her when they initially metthis morning in Apple’s kitchen, and now he would have to eat crow, washed down with a juice box. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

AT FIFTEEN TILL MIDNIGHT, Helen pulled the F-150 into the yard at Apple’s rundown home. She was glad to see it and ready for a hot shower. The ick of the assignment was a bit too much for her brain to process. The last few months had been trying on a bitch’s soul, but she felt good.

On the porch, the headlights from the truck outlined Apple’s silhouette. Ricky’s form appeared next to him. At the upstairs window, she spotted curtains moving at the windows of Oscar, Stephen and Jeffrey’s rooms. A smile came to the corner of her lips.

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