Page 17 of Dark Flame

Not wanting to sleep outside again and hear Flip and Nat, Spook took the sofa in the living room. Ben and Juan, the ever-present security, took shifts, walking the perimeter, and then settled into a tent at the back of the cabin. Within minutes of hitting their pillows, it was lights out for everyone.

“Should we approach tonight?” asked the young man, looking at their leader.

“No, not tonight,” said the older woman. “I think they might shoot us on the spot. We wait until daylight and then approach.”

“What about the others? Should they come as well?” he asked.

“Yes. We approach together.” She turned to see the dozen pairs of eyes staring at them. “All of us.”

CHAPTER NINE

Kane leaned his chair back against the cabin, his feet crossed at the ankles on the railing of the front porch. The sun was peeking out from behind a mountain range, its soft glow filtering across the valley below and sending light to the once darkened world. A soft fog covered the valley floor, the glistening of a light frost shimmering in the morning light.

He sipped his coffee, wrapping his hands around the mug for warmth. He heard the sound of the zipper on Flip’s tent open and then close as the big man unfolded himself and rose from the ground. He stretched, and Kane could hear the popping of bones as he realigned his large body.

“Morning,” he said softly to Kane. “You getting old, or is that my own bones I’m hearing creaking?”

“Morning, brother,” he said, shoving a cup of coffee at him. “Fuck you. We’re both getting old, and that tent isnotmade for my body.”

“What’s on the agenda today?”

Kane, you copy me?The voice of Ben Rollins came through loud and clear in his earpiece.

“I hear you, Ben. What’s up?”

I’m coming in and I’m not alone.

“Hostiles?” asked Kane, standing.

Flip immediately turned and set his coffee on the railing. He opened the door to the living room and saw Spook and Adam already moving toward the front door. The four men stood on the porch waiting for Ben’s response. Behind them, Uri stood with a rifle, waiting, Juan on the other side of the porch railing, hands at his sides.

I don’t think they’re hostiles. But it’s a whole bunch of ‘em. They look kinda… I don’t know, kinda lost and some of them look sick.

“What do you want us to do?” asked Adam.

“We wait. If Ben doesn’t think they’re hostiles, we wait. I trust his instincts.”

The men waited for what seemed an eternity until Ben walked up the dusty driveway. Beside him was a woman in her late forties or early fifties, pretty and yet plain at the same time, with short red hair. Her blue jeans had definitely seen better days, her plaid shirt tied at the waist, a white t-shirt peeking from beneath.

Behind her were at least a dozen young men and women. Kane let out a long slow breath, his palms tingled, and his back went rigid. He didn’t suspect evil, but he also couldn’t get a read on about half of them, and that worried him.

“Morning,” he said calmly. “Ben, you made some friends I see. Nice to see you playing well with others.”

“Bite me, asshole. This is Mary Clark. Mary, this is Kane Jackson.” The older man looked down at the woman and smiled. Kane couldn’t help but grin back at him.

“Yes, I know who you are,” she said, extending her hand. “It’s why I’m here. Why we’re all here. We’ve been trying to find you all, trying to catch up to you for a while now.”

Mary’s hand lingered in Kane’s for a few moments. She knew of him and wanted him to feel secure in the fact that she was friend, not foe.

“Is that right?” said Kane suspiciously, still holding her hand in his own. “Can you tell me what brings you to me?”

“I think you know the answer to that, Mr. Jackson.” The woman stared directly at Kane, her gaze never wavering as if knowing that he needed to look into her eyes.

“Kane, it’s just Kane. And please, details are important, Ms. Clark,” he replied in an equally unwavering voice.

“Mary. It’s just Mary. I… we,” she said, waving a hand around at the others, “are all children of the pink dust. I believe I was lucky enough to be the first.” She chuckled sardonically and then looked back at the rag-tag group of her fellow pink dusters.

Kane’s gaze scanned the group of people. They looked tired and worn, their clothes tattered and old. Two looked sick, but he couldn’t be sure, and they all looked hungry.

---