Page 83 of Junkyard Dog

Charlotte stirred thegrainy mashed potatoes around on her plate, holding a forkful up to Max. “You’re picking me up in the morning, right?”

Max nodded, angling his head away from the offensive food. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll even bring you a change of clothes.” He shuffled his chair closer to her. “You’re lucky, Chuck. I thought for sure you had some serious damage, the way I found you…” He trailed off, clearing his throat. “We’ll head over to the tavern tomorrow, okay? Thomas wants to see for himself that you’re okay.”

Swallowing the bland potatoes, she nodded. “How’s the bar look?”

“A bunch of us pitched in with the cleanup this afternoon. The liquor stock took a hit, but it doesn’t look like the place took any structural damage.” Max popped the lid off a bottle of water and handed it to her. “You’ll give me the rundown at lunch, right?”

She twirled her fork, keeping her eyes off the unappetizing bandages on her hand that held her IV needle in place. “I’m still piecing it together,” she muttered. “I’m not sure what was real and what I imagined.”

Pushing himself up, he gathered his wallet and keys and crossed his arms. “You freaked me out, Chuck. Don’t do it again.”

She watched him walk from the room and saunter over to the nurses’ station, his sights locked on a pretty woman lining files across the counter. Reaching across the bed, she unplugged her phone and swiped it to life, surprised to see the number of notifications that up from well-wishers and coworkers. Scanning them over, she typed out a quick, generic update and copied it, sending it to every number before she opened her contacts.

Alex Echidna.

She hovered her thumb over his name, drawing a deep breath before she tapped the number and waited until the phone went to voice mail. Hanging up, she sank back in the uncomfortable bed and attempted to make sense of what she’d seen.

*

Thomas released herimmediately, apologizing profusely when Charlotte jumped, her bruised ribs protesting the contact.

“It’s okay.” She laughed, grabbing his hand and smiling. “I’m happy to see you, too.” She scanned the bar halfheartedly for a tall, muscled guy with long hair and a roguish smirk. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather have my first post-hospital-meal lunch.”

“Take a seat and I’ll send Daniel over right away,” Thomas ordered, gripping her hand tightly in his. “You gave us all a scare.”

Max hauled her over to a quiet corner and sat, his arms spread across the back of the booth. “Spill.”

“There’s not much to spill.” She sighed, pulling an elastic from her purse and gathering her hair up. “The quake hit while I was coming down from the Chasm’s peak and a rock dropped between me and the exit.” She rubbed her elbow through the thick bandage. “Going back up was too risky with the tremors, so I just stayed put.”

He frowned, lifting a finger to order their meals when Daniel approached them. “And Alex found you.”

She pushed past Butch to the calming voice that carried through the caves. “Yeah, he did.”

Waiting for her to elaborate, Max rolled his hand in the air. “And?”

“And I don’t know,” she replied absently. “He managed to move the rock enough for me to get under it. But Butch’s legs got caught underneath and Alex… Yeah. I don’t know.”

He fixed her with a dead glare. “So Butch was there.”

“No. Yes.” She leaned back and stared at the table, squinting as though it would help her see the night clearer. “He got me out and I left. I drove away.”

“Alex and Butch left you alone in the park during the aftershocks of a quake.”

She closed her eyes tight and groaned. “Dammit, Max. I don’t know. He had somewhere to be. And Butch was… Can I just eat?”

“Eat and talk. So you made it under half a mile from the Chasm?” he demanded, eyes narrowed in disbelief. “Chuck. When we found you out there… Did Alex do something to you?”

She shook her head. “No. No, of course not. My head was just playing tricks on me. Spooking me.”

“Your voice is still messed up,” he stated, thanking the new bartender as he set down their coffees. “Fuck, Charlotte. You were so white and still, I thought rigor mortis had set in or some shit. Scared the hell outta me.”

Taking her first sip of coffee in three days, she closed her eyes for a moment. “Did you see anything weird in the sand there?”

“Weird like how?” Max asked.

“Like a fire had been through there,” she clarified, opening her eyes and glancing down at her phone as it buzzed. “Anything burnt?”

“Like a sand fire?” he snorted. “No, Chuck. No sand fires.”

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