Page 50 of Sanctuary
“You two just look after that little girl, and we’re even.”
They watched the truck sway out onto the road, then Patton turned to Ori. “Let’s go get you that chocolate.”
C H A P T E R F O R T Y - T H R E E
T he bread truck showed up about an hour later and took them right into Memphis, leaving them at a grocery store in what the driver said was the north end of the city. He passed them on to someone driving a long narrow truck, a picture of rolling green hills and vegetables painted onto the side of it. The driver, after taking one look at Ori wan face, had opened the back and handed them a couple of small bags filled with apples and carrots. "I got one a couple months older," he told them. "You need to eat healthy, 'cause they'll keep you up all night." Then he'd ushered them into the cab of his truck and they'd rumbled their way out onto the highway, heading north on the last leg of a journey that had until recently felt like it would never end.
"Where do you want to be dropped off?" the driver said when they'd been on the road for what Patton guessed was about half an hour. The radio was playing sad country songs in the background, but none of them had paid any attention to it.
"Anywhere with a phone," Ori said before Patton could come up with a reasonable lie. "My aunt said to call her when we got near and they'd come get us, so anytime now is fine." He smiled and looked down at the baby. "She said that little Willie Rose already has a bed. One of the neighbors had one, left over from her last grandchild. And clothes."
It was all lies, but it made a soft look come over the human's face and Patton realized Ori was making sure that the human wouldn't think he'd have to check up on them later on. They certainly didn't want that.
"Sounds like you're all set then." A combination gas station and corner store and maybe a mechanic's came into view as they rounded a corner. "This good? I'm turning off again in a couple of miles but I can take you that far if you'd rather. Don't know what's around for phones though. Think it's just an intersection."
"No, this is fine," Patton put in quickly. It might be better to be let off a little ways away from the enclave anyway. They could cut cross-country from here and find the place easily enough. The walls would be visible for miles, he figured, kind of like home.
"All right," the driver said and he pulled his truck over to the side of the road.
It took Patton a couple of tries to get the door open, but eventually he and their bags were on the ground and he could turn around and take the baby while Ori climbed down from the high seat.
"Hey," the driver called before they could close the door. "Here." He held something out to them, pale green and folded several times. "For the kid. Babies are expensive." Ori stared up at him for a moment, obviously torn. "Take it," the human said. "Put it away for emergencies if you don't want to spend it right away. But you and that little girl have had a rough enough start, you should have a little something set aside, just in case."
Half-mesmerized, Ori reached up and took the folded bill from the man. The end uncurled and Patton saw the number one hundred in the corner.
"Oh, no, we can't take that much," Ori protested.
"I'm not taking it back," the man said. "Someday, you'll have a chance to do something good for someone in need, and that's enough payback for me. The world's a tough place if you ain't got no one. We got to look out for each other." He nodded and put the truck in gear. "Good luck, and take care." Ori just barely got the door closed before the truck was moving, rumbling out onto the pavement and picking up speed until it disappeared from view.
"I am so confused," Ori said softly. He looked up at Patton. "I thought they were all monsters."
"I wonder if Mercy Hills is right, and it's the rest of us who are living in the past," Patton mused and put his arm around Ori's shoulders. "I think we need to head off that way." He pointed to the left and across the road. "You want anything from the store before we leave?"
"We should check how much food we have left." Ori set the baby down on a patch of smooth grass, tickled her belly, then laid out everything they still owned on the ground. "I can't wait to get my hands on a washboard again," he confessed, holding up one of Patton's t-shirts, now stained in several places. "Do you think they'll loan us some things until we've had a chance to earn pack credits?"
"I suppose we'll find out soon." Patton was less worried about that and more worried about how he would get the message into Mercy Hills. His original, half-baked plan had been to call them on the cell phone and, when that plan had to be dropped, to hide out by the gate and try to catch someone coming out to go to the city, or to go to work nearby. Looking at the area, though, with few houses nearby, he was starting to think it might not work. But full moon was soon--if they had any families outside walls, they'd have to come back to run. They could probably hold on until then. "Let's make sure we have food for a couple of days," he suggested.
Ori frowned and folded the t-shirt up. "Not beans. Anything but beans." He sighed as he tidied their spare clothing away. "Unless that's all we can afford." He picked up the dozen human diapers they still had and stared at them for a moment. "I don't know if these are enough."
"We'll see if they have any there," Patton promised and then he picked up the bags and followed Ori into the store.
C H A P T E R F O R T Y - F O U R
P atton kept an eye on Ori as they walked. His mate had perked up during the drive, but Patton was worried that making him walk again would also make him sick again. Ori's face was still pale and Patton made sure they stopped to rest as often as Ori would let him.
"Really, I'm fine," Ori snapped at him after the fourth time Patton had asked him if he wanted to sit down for a while. "It's just a baby, I'm not dying." But his steps were slowing and he seemed focused on putting one foot in front of the other, rather than looking around him the way Ori normally would.
"There's no rush," Patton reminded him. "So what if we spend another night on the road?" He stopped where he was and grabbed the loose fabric of Ori’s hoodie, pulling him to a stop.
They stared at each other in frustration, until Ori blinked and then sank to the ground with his legs curled beneath him, pretending to adjust the baby's blankets.
Patton thought it was more in frustration than exhaustion, though there was a good bit of the second etched into the lines of Ori's face. "I don't want her out more than she should be. She's not even two weeks old, she shouldn't be out camping yet!" His voice grew strident and Patton could see where Ori bit off the rest of his words.
After a moment, Ori said, in a gentler tone, "I just... I want to be home." He looked up at Patton. "In our home. You and me and Willie Rose. I want to sit in a rocking chair to nurse her, not hide under a tree hoping a bird doesn't shit on us. I want to bathe her properly and make nice clothes for her to wear, and not worry about diaper rash or if she's getting a cold or if it's just a normal cough." He looked down at the baby again. "Maybe I am tired, but we're so close, and I'm so ready to be done. One way or another." The last sentence was quieter than the rest, as if he was half-afraid of it.
Patton knelt beside him and wrapped both Ori and the baby up in his arms. "I know." He buried his face in Ori's hair and breathed in his sweet, sweet scent. "I promise, we're almost done. Would you rather we found you a den somewhere and I went on to Mercy Hills by myself? They might have a car we could bring back for you." Medeina, he hoped they did. Lady Lysoonka, you're supposed to look after the homemakers. Help us make a home, if only for Willie Rose.
"No, I don't want to stay here by myself," Ori said in a low, apologetic tone. "I’m sorry, you're right. One more night won't hurt, right? And the moon’s almost full. It’ll almost be like having a second campfire."
