Page 4 of Unrest
When I turned to Devon’s tall, muscular form, he crossed his arms and shook his head. “I don’t know. I never made it out there,” was all he said. But his eyes were alight, probably remembering his loved ones, I think in Mississippi.
Was it possible that what was happening here in Nevada was happening nationwide? I wasn’t sure what was better—not knowing and being able to hope your family was okay—or knowing they were gone. My chest squeezed and I wiped my eyes on my shoulder.
“Let me finish this,” Sean said. “You can go get ready.”
I gave a small nod of gratitude and stood. Rylen and Tater were breaking down the tent and making quick work of it. They’d set my backpack outside of it next to the tightly rolled sleeping bags. When I leaned down to get my bag, Tater took my arm.
“Still mad at me?” he asked quietly. I’d been upset that my brother hooked up with my best friend, especially under these circumstances. But that was before last night’s bomb. The worry in his eyes killed me.
“No.” My voice was soft. “It’s the least of my concerns. Do you guys need help?”
“We’ve got it.”
I headed down the path to a patch of trees where I could get ready in private. I pulled a facial wipe from the pack and cleaned my face, then my underarms. The pack was only half full. I didn’t want to think about how we’d soon be out of the things we relied on. I changed into my skinny jeans and a thin sweatshirt with a wide neck that showed my collarbones and part of one shoulder. It felt baggier than usual. My fitted jeans that were supposed to be tight were loose too. At least my sneakers still fit right.
I ran a brush through my hair and pulled it up in a slick, high ponytail. That was it for my primping. On my way back up to camp, I tossed my bag in the back of Dad’s SUV where the guys were loading in the camping stuff. Rylen closed the trunk and looked me over, making me feel suddenly warmer.
“You’re losing weight,” he said grimly.
“We all are,” Tater remarked. He pulled up his T-shirt to show the camo belt he’d had to use with his jeans, pulled tight enough to bunch the fabric.
Rylen let out a small laugh and pulled up his own T-shirt to show he’d resorted to using his work belt, cinched tight, too. My stomach gave a flip at the sight of his lower abs with a light patch of happy trail hair leading down between his V-lined hips. I quickly turned away and walked the rest of the way up the hill to camp, shaking out my arms. I’d been checking out Rylen for years, even while he was married, which had caused me a fair amount of guilt. But it felt really wrong to do it while he was grieving a freshly dead wife. A girl who’d kind of become my friend.
The other guys were bustling around when I got there, and Sean handed me a steaming cup of watery latte. I closed my eyes and brought it to my nose, inhaling the scent.Well, friend,I thought,this is it. I hope we meet again someday.I took a sip and felt the sweet warmth down to my toes. A moan escaped me.
“Damn, that’s one lucky cup of joe,” Tall Mark said. I opened my eyes and caught his goofy grin, lopsided.
“Shut it,” I muttered. Normally I would have smiled, but the effort was too great. The grief that had flooded my body the night before still blanketed me, stunting my muscles from exerting signs of happiness. Every time I thought of a world without Juanita and Jacob Tate Senior, my insides felt like they were being massacred. Such wonderful lives, wasted. Suddenly I wasn’t even interested in my coffee.
“Enjoy it,” Mark said. I forced myself to take another sip for him. He patted my shoulder and went to help the others. His tall frame looked even thinner than yesterday, camo pants hanging lower with no butt to speak of, bunching around his ankles.
In a matter of minutes, the guys had packed up the camp and shoved everything in the back of Dad’s SUV and Devon’s mom’s minivan. We finished our coffees as we huddled around the front end of the SUV where Texas Harry had laid out the map.
“We gotta avoid all big towns, cities, and main roads,” he said. “Which means we’ll have to zig-zag our way northeast.”
“Let’s hope for clear back roads or dirt terrain without a lot of rocks,” Tater said. He pointed at part of our route. “This is the county we grew up in, so we know that area pretty well.”
“There’s a few national forests along the way if we need to stop,” Rylen said, pointing to a couple areas in Utah. He looked at Devon. “How much gas do you have?”
“‘Bout half a tank.”
“Shit,” Tater mumbled. “It’s at least 450 miles to Dugway Proving Ground. I used our spare gas to fill up and I’m at about three-quarters of a tank. That’ll only get us a hundred and fifty miles or so. We need to hit that gas station before we head out.”
His eyes turned downcast at the mention of the gas station, and Remy let out a whimper, quickly covering her mouth. I took her other hand and squeezed. Going there would mean seeing where the camp had been—seeing the aftermath of last night’s bomb.
“All right then,” Texas Harry said quietly. “Let’s get a move on. We’ll take lead since Matt has the binoculars. Once we get closer to your neck of the woods, we’ll switch out.”
Tater nodded and patted the hood. “Hooah.” The guys repeated him, and we broke apart. My stomach was a mess thinking about our upcoming journey. I kept hold of Remy’s hand until it was time to climb into the back of Dad’s SUV with her. Tater jumped behind the wheel and Rylen took shotgun. He glanced back and held my eyes a few seconds. I gave him a nod.
Remy and I sat close, holding hands, garnering strength and comfort from one another for what was ahead. I watched Mom’s car as we passed it, leaving the safe shelter of Ash Meadows National Wildlife Refuge. Remy’s grip on my hand tightened as we exited into open land. Whoever killed our parents was out here. Fear of the unknown threatened to make me cry out, but I strangled it back down. We had to move forward.
We had to survive and fight.
