The Travels of Scout Shannon Books 1-3

Chapter 8

8

Scout had not yet attempted driving in the dark, but once she had turned off the floodlight over the door, she found that the monitors still attached to working cameras compensated for the low light, showing greenish outlines around the protrusions in the canyon walls and the occasional larger rock embedded in the baked mud of the ground. She got the rover moving as slowly as she could, a bit herky-jerky at first but smoother once she found a switch that automated the speed and let her take her foot off the pedal.

Tucker let the dogs curl up together in the passenger seat, leaning against the console between the two control panels and watching her as she navigated down the canyon.

“Which way?” Scout asked.

“Just keep going like you are,” Tucker said, not even looking at the monitors. She nodded, hoping her cheeks weren’t coloring. Those gray eyes watching her so closely were more than a little disconcerting.

“Until when?” Scout asked.

“It will be obvious.”

Scout nodded again. She wondered if there was a polite, nondefensive-sounding way to ask someone to stop looking at you.

Then he leaned forward and pushed her hat back off her head. She was sitting forward in the seat—she had to in order to reach the pedals—and the hat fell down her back to hang from its string around her neck.

“Hey,” Scout said, but the canyon was narrowing again and she couldn’t spare a hand from the controls to replace her hat.

“I just wanted a better look at you,” he said.

“What for? Put my hat back before I crash us into a wall.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, lifting the hat off her back, then brushing the blonde curls back from her face before setting the battered old hat back on her head. She had showered that morning before blowing up the compound, a rare treat. But she had been sweating on and off most of the day and those curls had been first soaked and then dried into crusty curlicues against her skin. She was acutely embarrassed he had even touched them.

Well, he was a sweaty mess himself. And yet his hair floated in a perfect wave, spilling over his forehead. Was he vain about it? Was that why he wore no hat? Because that decision wasn’t doing his skin any favors.

She fought the urge to heave a sigh. Premature wrinkling aside, he was nearly as cute as he thought he was, smiling at her all the time.

“Do you see it yet?” he asked, startling her out of her thoughts. Then she looked back at the monitors and saw what he meant. The rover systems were having a hard time defining it, but the greenish outlines ahead of her were slowly coalescing into a sort of gate.

“I think so. That’s where we’re headed?”

“Yes. They left the door open for us or you’d never see it at all,” Tucker said.

Scout watched the rover system fight to find the outlines of that gate. The canyon wall extended up out of sight on all sides of it.

What a perfect place for a trap.

Scout switched back to manual speed control and let the rover roll to a halt. Tucker looked at her quizzically.

“What are you?” Scout asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Look, I just spent the last four days locked in a secret place no one could find from the surface, and while I was down there I watched nine people die, one after another.”

“I’m sorry. That must have been horrible,” he said with what sounded like genuine empathy, but Scout didn’t let it melt her anger.

“I’m not going to repeat it. I’m not going into another super-secret location with no facts.”

“Fair enough,” Tucker said. “But most of it isn’t my secret to tell. I can promise you’ll be safe, and as soon as the repairs are done you will be free to go.”

“I have no reason to believe you’re trustworthy or that your promises mean anything,” Scout said.

“I guess not,” he allowed, tugging at his bottom lip while he stewed in thought. Scout slumped back in her seat, arms crossed as she waited for him to go on. At last he just shrugged. “I’ve got nothing. I can probably persuade the others to let Bente come out here and fix your rover for you while you wait. In the dark. She can lug her tools this far; she’s strong.”

“Don’t try to guilt me,” Scout said. “You’re the reason I’m even in this mess. I should have left you to walk back on your own after I found you.”

“I am sorry,” he said, reaching out to grasp her shoulder but thinking better of it at her hard glare. He let his hand fall. “Look, it sounds like you were just through a truly terrible experience and it’s left some scars. Totally understandable. I went through some nasty stuff myself those first few years on my own after my uncle died. Not that bad, but bad. Then these people found me and took me in, and they’ve been taking care of me ever since. Now I’m in a position to do some of that caring myself. Clearly, I’m not very good at it yet. But these people are my family. Maybe the thing you need the most right now is to sit at a proper table, filling your belly with warm food, surrounded by warm people.”

Scout felt herself relenting. She didn’t like it.

“Give us a chance to show you not all strangers are bad. I mean, most are,” he quickly amended with a grin. “That’s why Ken and Bente did what they did. We don’t like strangers any more than you do. But I feel like I already know you well enough to know you’re our kind of people. And if you give me a chance, I can show you that we’re your kind of people too.”

“Fine,” Scout said. “But mainly because I don’t want Bente to have to haul a bunch of tools out here and work in the dark, okay?”

“Of course,” Tucker said. “Just keep rolling straight in.”

Scout uncrossed her arms and sat forward to get the rover moving again. She thought she heard Tucker blow out a sigh of relief, but when she looked up at him he just flashed that too-confident smile at her again.

She didn’t return it.

The monitors still had a hard time pinning down exactly where the green outlines of the gate were, but it was wide enough that Scout could navigate between the innermost versions of the shifting outlines with room to spare on either side. Once the nose of the rover was through the gate, they were bathed in floodlights even brighter than the light over the rover door, shining down from some point higher up the canyon walls. Even through the window Scout could make out no details; the lights blinded her so that all she saw beyond them was black. Were they in a nook off the canyon with sky still above or was she once more underground in an immense cavern? She couldn’t tell; the lights were too bright to see stars even if they had been there.

The ground here was the same as the ground outside the gate, packed-down mud that might have been wet once decades ago but was now slowly eroding away into dust that whipped around in eddies as the rover treads stirred it up. She saw the armored bikes parked off to the right of the gateway next to a small four-wheeled vehicle. It might have been a jeep or a dune buggy; it was hard to tell what was going on past the bristles of armaments and all of the metal plating.

“Do you get into many battles?” Scout asked only half-jokingly.

“It’s best to be prepared,” Tucker said. He was standing now, one hand on the back of her seat as he looked out the narrow window. Ken and Bente were in front of the rover now, guiding her in past an array of lights set on the ground, blinding her from seeing the deeper expanse of the cavern or canyon or wherever they were. First Bente and then Ken put both hands up, palms out, and Scout braked the rover. Bente gave her two thumbs up, which Ken quickly echoed, and Scout killed the engine.

“I guess you’re home,” Scout said.

“Come on,” Tucker said, suddenly energized. “I can’t wait to introduce you to everyone.”

He leapt down the steps to the main compartment of the rover, the vigorous movement setting the dogs to barking as they charged after him, but they were just excited. Scout hurried after to be sure he didn’t recoil in fear again, but he seemed to be managing better now, laughing a bit as the dogs jumped all over him, desperate for his attention. He gave her a half grin with just a little nervousness in his eyes, but the dogs were oblivious.

“They think you’re taking them out to play,” Scout said. “You might want to walk calmer.”

“They can run through the open parts of the compound all they like,” Tucker said.

“I’d prefer they stayed close to me,” Scout said.

“Of course,” he said, still overeager to put her at ease. She opened the door and waved her arm for Tucker to go out first.

Ken and Bente were waiting outside. They had taken off their long duster coats, although Bente still had her goggles dangling around her neck. They both wore the same fitted jumpsuits underneath with belts as bulky with equipment as the one Scout wore around her own hips. Ken had cleaned up already, even his hair glistening wetly as it stood straight up off his scalp. Bente was still wiping the dust off her face and neck with a cloth.

Tucker turned to hold out a hand but Scout leapt down without assistance. The dogs hopped down after her. The air here was cold enough to raise goose bumps all over her flesh. It wasn’t just the usual cool that descended after sunset. This was a bone-deep cold, like this place never baked in the light of the sun. Was it a cave?

Shadow found a scent he wanted to follow and raced off but Gert pressed close against Scout’s leg, trembling, and Scout put her hand on the dog’s head to calm her. She had no fear of machines, but people made her nervous.

“Ken, Bente, this is Scout,” Tucker said. “She picked me up outside of McFarlane’s hut.”

“Oh yeah?” Ken said, giving Tucker a darting little look before extending a hand to Scout. “Welcome.”

“Am I?” Scout asked but shook his hand anyway. Ken gave Tucker another look and Tucker made the smallest of headshakes.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Ken said and flushed with pretty convincing chagrin. “We missed his message.”

“And you’re Bente?” Scout said, turning to the girl. She was even larger up close, fairly looming over Scout, although she seemed shy about shaking hands. But when she did take Scout’s hand it was a warm, comforting squeeze, more like a fond hug than a token gesture.

“I better close the gates before Joelle—” Ken started to say, but his words were quickly drowned out by a voice coming from beyond those blinding lights.

“What is going on here?”

“s**t,” Ken mumbled under his breath. Bente hunched her shoulders as if trying to make herself smaller, less visible. Ken shot Tucker another look before scurrying away back toward the gate.

“Joelle,” Tucker said, but the voice cut him off again.

“Save it, Tucker.” Her form eclipsed one of the floodlights, growing more defined until she at last became visible. She was shorter than Scout but wore her hair pulled up tight on the top of her head, where it puffed out in a thick mass of dark, glossy, tight curls that made her seem taller. Her skin was deeply brown but unmarred by the sun damage that lined Tucker’s face. There was a roundness to her cheeks and the curve of her eyebrows that Scout would normally equate with friendliness, but clearly at this moment Joelle was livid. She wasn’t wearing a jumpsuit like Ken and Bente, but the tight pants and tank top she wore under her tactical vest had a look almost like a military uniform. She had a screen strapped to her wrist identical to Tucker’s.

She stopped in front of Scout, arms folded as she looked the newcomer up and down. Scout fought the urge to take off her hat and hold it in front of her like she was being chastised. Gert cowered further behind Scout’s legs. Shadow was hiding behind the rover tread. It would have been a more effective hiding place if his fur didn’t glow so brightly even in the shadows.

“Why,” Joelle said, not a question. She directed the word at Tucker without ever taking her eyes off Scout.

“I messaged you. Surely you got it.”

She gave a curt nod, her eyes unblinking.

“Then I’ve already explained. It just seemed like the thing to do,” Tucker said.

“My father—”

“Will understand when I talk to him,” Tucker interrupted, making her eyes narrow. “Where is he?”

“Still out,” Joelle said.

“I don’t know what this is about,” Scout said. “Your friends have damaged my rover. Tucker promised repairs. Then I’ll be on my way.”

Joelle tipped her head to look past Scout at the rover. Then she seemed to notice the dogs for the first time.

“It was entirely my fault, and I’ll make the repairs myself if Bente has other work,” Tucker said.

“Oh, stop it,” Joelle said. “You can’t fix a child’s toy, let alone this rover.”

“I promised to make this right,” Tucker said. “And dinner. I also promised dinner.”

“I have food,” Scout said. Retreating with her dogs to the comfort of the rover interior was feeling like a better option all the time.

“No, no,” Joelle said, finally relenting. “I’m sorry. Some protocols were breached here, but clearly that’s not your fault. We have more than enough to share. I probably made too much anyway. First night out of the storm shelter, sick to death of packaged food, you know?”

Scout nodded, but in fact the bulk of the food she ate was packaged food. She had occasionally splurged on fresh soup or stew if the public house where she was staying had something particularly tempting on offer. But the range she traveled on her bike seldom strayed out of the southwest quadrant, where grain was nearly the only food grown. Fruits and vegetables, those were more of a northeastern thing and usually quite out of her price range.

She was suddenly curious just what dinner would be.

“Dogs,” a boy’s voice said.

Joelle had been about to speak but turned to look past the lights behind her. This voice was small, hesitant. A young boy, not yet a teenager. The last of the anger had melted from Joelle’s face when she turned back to Scout. Now she looked a bit worried.

“Are your dogs good with kids?” she asked.

Scout had a sudden flashback to that morning, another pang of regret. “When the kids are good with them,” she said.

Joelle looked at Gert still pressed tight to Scout’s legs, then at Shadow taking the first tentative steps out from under the rover.

“They look scared,” Joelle said. The worry on her face intensified a notch. She had good reason; scared animals could react in violent ways. But Scout was certain that Shadow wouldn’t harm a fly, and Gert had been mightily provoked before she had resorted to biting.

“I’ll keep an eye on them, but they should be fine. They’ve just had a long day,” Scout said, suddenly feeling all the hours of it herself. She was tired.

“I’ve never seen a dog,” the boy said as he appeared out of the light. He had the same dark skin as Joelle, the same warm brown eyes, although his hair was cut close to his scalp like Ken’s. He had the lanky look of someone who had just shot up a lot of centimeters in a short amount of time, his ankles and wrists protruding from his too-small clothes. He put out his hands and waited for the dogs to approach him. “I’ve read about dogs,” he went on. “Man’s best friend.”

“They’re certainly my best friends,” Scout said, gently encouraging Gert to follow Shadow in investigating the boy.

“This is Reggie, my little brother,” Joelle said. Scout would guess the kid was about twelve.

“I’m Scout,” she told both of them. Reggie dropped down to one knee as the dogs sniffed him all over.

“Do your dogs know any tricks?” Reggie asked.

“Shadow knows a few,” she said.

“Is this one Shadow?” Reggie asked.

“No, that’s Gert,” Scout said. “The white one’s Shadow. When he was a puppy he followed me everywhere, and my dad said he was my little shadow. The name stuck.”

“Hey Shadow, Gert,” Reggie said, carefully moving from light touches to full-on head scratches. Scout wondered what he had read about dogs. It appeared to have been quite thorough. He knew just how to put them at ease. It might end up being a good thing that they had stopped here, that the dogs were getting a good experience with a kid so soon after their bad experience with kids. She didn’t want them getting fearful or mean.

“Can we eat?” Tucker asked, pressing his palms together as he waited for Joelle to answer.

“Might as well,” Joelle said. “Come on, Reg.”

Reggie had sprawled down on the ground, letting both the dogs nose him all over, tails wagging madly, but he leapt to his feet to follow his sister, the dogs trailing close at his heels.

Well, they had certainly made a new friend quickly.

Scout was about to follow when a loud metallic clang suddenly echoed through the space. Scout flinched, afraid to look back.

“That’s just the gate closing,” Tucker told her, but she found that not the least bit reassuring. “There are other doors out. Smaller, people-sized ones,” he went on. Her anxiety must be showing if he was trying to reassure her. “As soon as the rover is fixed we’ll open the door back up and let you out. You understand we can’t just leave it open, not even at night. Especially not at night.”

“Of course,” Scout said, but she couldn’t help looking back even as she followed the others toward the blinding floodlights.

The doors behind the rover were firmly shut, some sort of massive wheel locking the two together. There was a mechanism, a machine that would control that lock. There had to be. No human could turn that wheel with their hands, not even Bente with her arms bigger than most people’s thighs.

Scout bit down on her lip and forced herself to turn her back on that gate. She told herself that even if it never opened again, all that was trapped was the rover. She and the dogs could escape any number of ways.

But still, she felt trapped. And she didn’t like it.