The Travels of Scout Shannon Books 1-3

Chapter 9

9

Scout blinked as the floodlights all turned off at once, plunging everything around her into darkness. She blinked again, then deliberately kept her eyes open wide, waiting for them to adjust. It didn’t take long; the darkness had only seemed absolute compared to that blinding light. She could see squares of light ahead of her that she took for windows and a longer rectangle that must be an open door.

Tucker was waiting for her next to that doorway, leaning on the wall outside the door so that the light within bathed his features. Scout hurried to join him, but even as she walked she tipped her head back to look up into the darkness over her.

Stars. Not a cavern. The walls around her were tall and sheer, probably unclimbable, although that was difficult to tell by starlight. Still, not enclosed. But narrow enough that the bottom would only get sunlight for maybe an hour near midday, hence the chill. She felt ever so slightly better.

“Your dogs are already inside,” Tucker said. “They quite like Reggie.”

Scout stopped next to him, just outside the doorway. She could hear the voices of the others within: Reggie laughing, Ken chatting a mile a minute with occasional brief responses from Joelle. She didn’t hear Bente. Had she gone in or stayed behind to start the rover repairs?

There was a hiss, like water drops striking metal left out in the noonday sun, then a rush of smell. Scout breathed it in deeply but couldn’t identify it. The scent was rich, mouthwatering, and yet completely alien to her.

“Hamburgers,” Tucker said, watching her face as she puzzled over the aroma. “Have you ever had hamburgers?”

“You mean like meat in a bun?”

“Please—Joelle has her own recipe that is way beyond just meat in a bun,” Tucker said with a wave of his hand. “They’re fantastic.”

“I’ve had beef in MREs before,” Scout said. “Beef stroganoff, beef chow mein, chipped beef with toast.”

“Yeah, I’m not convinced any of that is strictly speaking beef,” Tucker said with a sly smile. “And such little amounts.”

“Even heated up, they never smell like this.”

“I know, right?” Tucker agreed. “Now, to be honest, this isn’t the best beef either. Still no cows on this planet, not even in the northeastern cities. But this is vat-grown beef, which they tell me is a pretty close approximation.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Scout said.

“Me neither, although someday I will,” he said fiercely.

Scout looked up at him. Did he too dream of leaving this world, of seeing the rest of the galaxy?

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s join the others. We all pitch in on the work around here.”

“Of course,” Scout said and followed Tucker inside the doorway.

The room beyond was long but narrow, running along the exterior wall that faced out on the open space where all the vehicles were parked. It was lined with equipment, most appearing to be turned off or in sleep mode but others running programs, their screens displaying text Scout couldn’t quite read as Tucker took her elbow and guided her through the room.

“Top secret?” she asked.

“Well, it might be okay, but it’s not my call,” Tucker said.

“Whose call is it? Joelle’s?”

“Her dad’s,” he said. “He’s not here now, but he should be back soon. I’m sure he’ll have no problem with you seeing anything, but like I said—”

“Not your call,” Scout finished. “Not a problem. I’ll probably be gone before he even gets back anyway.”

Tucker didn’t answer that.

They crossed the room to a hallway of closed doors, although next to each door was a window into what appeared to be a darkened office. Then the hallway ended in a warmly lit room, half covered with the same metal roof that covered the offices and equipment room they had just passed through, the other half open to the starry sky. In the middle of the floor of the open half of the room was a shallow pit covered with grates. Under the grates, flames danced over darkly glowing embers.

“What are you burning?” Scout asked.

“It’s a chemical compound that simulates wood fire,” Tucker said. “We have a bunch of it in one of the storerooms. It’s amazing stuff; I don’t know why they don’t have it in the cities. Can you smell it? I love that smell.”

Scout sniffed again. There was something—a fresh, dry sort of smell—but mostly she still smelled the hamburgers Joelle was tending to on the far side of the fire pit. Scout had only smelled wood once, many years ago, as part of one of her deliveries. Someone had sent a bundle of toys to a friend expecting a child and amid the brightly colored plastic there had been a single wooden unicorn. She sniffed again but couldn’t find that smell in the amalgam of scents coming from the fire pit.

“When we’re done eating you’ll be able to smell it,” Tucker said.

Joelle sat back on her heels, long spatula tipped back but not quite touching her shoulder, like a soldier saluting with a sword. Ken was on the other side of the fire pit setting roll halves sliced side down over a part of the fire that was burning much less vigorously than it was under the beef.

“How’s that cheese coming?” Joelle called.

“Nearly there,” Reggie said, slicing another square off from a long orange log of cheese and setting it on a plate. The two dogs were right beside him, both sitting at rigid attention. He cut off another slice and Scout could swear he deliberately botched it, cutting unevenly so the square broke off midway through. He broke the piece in half and tossed each dog a bit of cheese. Scout snatched his out of the air but Gert fumbled with hers, having to retrieve it from the swept earthen floor. She didn’t seem to mind the dirt.

“Where do you get all this food?” Scout asked. Her experience with cheese was also entirely from MREs, which like the beef was probably some synthetic substance flavored to pass as cheese. She had never even imagined it came in great logs like Reggie was carefully wrapping in cloth to put away.

“Places,” Tucker said vaguely.

“Top secret,” Scout guessed, and he shrugged.

“Plates,” Joelle called without looking up from the grill.

“Follow me,” Tucker said, leading Scout to the roofed part of the room. There was a long table here, benches lined up neatly on either side. The far wall was entirely cabinets and drawers of various sizes. Tucker opened one of the larger cabinet doors and handed Scout a stack of plates. “Put those around the table. I’ll bring a platter for Joelle.”

Scout walked around the long table, putting a plate down at each step. She watched Joelle arranging Reggie’s slices of cheese on each of the beef patties. Tucker carried a platter so big that Scout doubted her fingers would touch if she circled her arms around it. He held it out for Ken, who snatched the hot toasted buns off the grate and lined them up on the platter. Then Tucker walked around the end of the fire pit to where Joelle was using the spatula to peek under the burgers.

“Forks too,” Reggie said to Scout as he returned from the room he had taken the cheese to, now with a plate covered in an opaque wrap in each hand. He set a plate on each end of the long table and pulled the wrap away, revealing two small mountains of sliced onions, tomatoes, and pickles.

“Where are the forks?” Scout asked.

“Drawer on the end there,” he said, pointing vaguely. Scout found it on the second try.

Bente came in through the hallway and headed to a sink set into the back wall. Her hands were already streaked with grease and she scrubbed at them with a little brush, looking repeatedly over her shoulder at Ken until he noticed her. He gave her a thumbs-up and went into the room where Reggie had left the cheese and emerged with a large covered bowl. Scout was just setting down the last of the forks as he unfastened the lid. The bowl contained a lumpy white and yellow mass.

“Potato salad,” Ken told her. “Bente’s specialty. You’re going to love it.”

“Mustard?” Scout asked, looking more closely at the streaks of yellow.

“And egg,” Ken said.

The others were taking seats around the table and Tucker tugged at Scout’s sleeve until she climbed over the bench to sit down next to him. Reggie sat down next to her, the dogs close behind him in case he had more cheese. Scout watched the others and mimicked their movements, loading up her burger with a rich, red slice of tomato, a thick slice of onion, and a generous stack of pickles. She squeezed a spiral of ketchup and another of mustard, then placed the other half of toasted bun on top of everything and pressed down until the condiments oozed out the sides. Then she took a bite.

Bliss. Only slightly mitigated by the hot juices that stung a bit as they dripped down her chin. She ducked her head over her plate. Tucker handed her a napkin and she mumbled a thanks around a full mouthful of burger before mopping up her chin.

“What do you think?” Reggie asked. Joelle, who was sitting across from her, paused before taking a second bite of her own burger to see how Scout would answer. Ken looked up from spooning a mountain of potato salad onto his plate. Even Bente’s eyes were on her. Scout felt her cheeks flush.

“It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever had,” Scout said through a mouth still half full of beef.

“Told you,” Tucker said, taking another large bite of his own burger.

“How come no one else has this?” Scout asked. “Even in the cities, I’ve never seen it anywhere.”

“The governor has it all the time in his mansion,” Joelle said.

“You stole this from the governor?” Scout asked after swallowing.

“No, the bandits robbed the governor’s supply train,” Joelle said blithely. “We just robbed the bandits.”

Ken laughed as he handed Joelle the bowl of potato salad. She smiled as she dished herself up a spoonful, then passed it down to Bente.

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Scout asked.

“Well, yeah,” Joelle admitted. “But we’re good at it. We’ve been doing it for years.”

“You guys?” Scout asked, looking up and down the table.

“Not just us,” Ken said. “We’re sort of the second generation. But this beef here was part of our first solo haul. In case we seem kind of proud of it.”

Scout didn’t know how to answer that, so she just took another bite of her hamburger. She wasn’t sure if it was a taste worth risking her life for, but it came closer than anything else she had ever had, including her hands-down favorite beverage, jolo.

“The bandits steal from the rich,” Joelle went on. “We steal from the bandits.”

“And give to the poor?” Scout guessed.

“In a way,” Joelle said.

Tucker looked like he wanted to say more, but Joelle gave him a little shake of her head and he kept silent, accepting the bowl of potato salad from Bente and putting a large spoonful onto Scout’s plate. “Try that,” he said instead.

Scout swallowed and took a drink of water to cleanse her palate. No glacier-melt water here, just the usual filtered stuff, but it got the job done. The salad was delightfully cold, creamy, and tangy. Potatoes she had had before, many times, but never like this.

“That’s fantastic,” Scout said. Bente beamed at her.

“Tell me you’re glad I talked you into this,” Tucker prompted.

“Okay, I’m glad,” Scout relented. “Thanks.”

Tucker grinned around a mouthful of burger.

“So this place isn’t a town,” Scout guessed. “Is it like a family compound?”

“Kind of,” Joelle said.

“With a loose definition of family,” Tucker said.

“So usually there are adults here too?” Scout asked.

“A few,” Joelle said. “Most of them are working on a thing north of here. My father and uncle went out to take care of a different thing. They’re on their way back now. You’ll get to meet them.”

“Okay,” Scout said hesitantly. She didn’t really mind Joelle’s vagueness about everyone’s activities. She just wasn’t sure she wanted to meet anybody else, particularly not an adult.

“Scout spent the last solar storm underground with some messed-up adults,” Tucker said as if reading her mind.

“Not just adults,” Scout said. “There were three tweens too.”

“You didn’t tell me that bit,” Tucker said. “Did they get murdered too?”

“Murdered?” Joelle asked, almost spitting out her drink of water.

“Yeah,” Scout said. “But I didn’t feel bad about that. They were trained assassins, apparently.”

“Girls?” Joelle asked, her voice hard.

“Yeah,” Scout said, surprised by the question. Joelle and Ken were both nodding as if this confirmed some suspicion they had. “How did you know?”

“We’ve been hearing rumors,” Joelle said.

“Someone has one implanted in the governor’s mansion,” Ken added. Joelle glared at him and he gave an apologetic shrug.

“Not anymore,” Scout said under her breath. “But wait—you heard this from bandits?”

“Not exactly,” Joelle said evasively, but Scout remembered the equipment in the room Tucker had hustled her through. She had seen similar equipment in the underground compound where she had waited out the storm.

“Are you guys in contact with Space Farers?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t say contact exactly,” Ken said, but he stopped talking at a fierce look from Joelle.

“Never mind,” Scout said. “Secrets. I get it. And I really don’t want to know.”

“No offense,” Joelle said.

“No, it’s fine. I’m leaving soon anyway. No need for me to get involved in any of it.”

Joelle gave her an assessing look. Scout guessed she passed the test when Joelle took another bite of burger.

“Can I ask one question, though?” Scout asked, caught off guard by her own words. She would swear she really didn’t want to know anything about whatever they were up to here, but there was one thing nagging her, one bit of unfinished business left on this, her home world. One last thread she’d like to have neatly snipped before she moved on.

“You can ask,” Joelle said. “I don’t promise an answer.”

“You guys are based here in the hills,” Scout said. “I’ve been over the hills loads of times running deliveries on my bike. I’ve seen signs of people about, sheltering in caves or leaving tracks on the paths, but I’ve never seen anyone. Not for sure.”

“What’s your question?” Joelle asked.

“Have any of you seen any sign of the rebels?” Scout asked.

All their faces fell blank at once and Scout had the sinking feeling that she had just inadvertently breached the most rigid of all protocols. Was she not explaining herself correctly?

“I mean, the rumors say they hide out in the hills, and I’ve been watching out for them for years. Sometimes I feel like they’re watching me when I pass through, but I’ve never seen anyone. Have you?”

There was another long moment of silence, then all five of them burst into raucous laughter.

“What?” Scout asked, feeling her cheeks heat. “There are no rebels, are there? That’s what’s funny?”

“Oh, there are rebels,” Tucker said, putting an arm around her shoulders to give her a good-natured jostling. “There are most definitely rebels in these here hills.”

“Oh,” Scout said, slowly understanding. She had spent her whole life searching for the rebels, or more exactly hoping they would come and find her. And just when she had given that quest up, here she was feasting on food plundered from the governor’s personal supply train with a quintet of rebels.

Joelle gave her a wink, then tipped her head back to put the last bit of burger in her mouth. The orange glow from the dying embers glinted off of something inside her tactical vest.

Knives. Rows of throwing knives. Ken beside her half rose from the bench to reach for the bowl of potato salad and Scout saw what she had neglected to look for before: the gun tucked in a holster at his hip. His outfit matched Bente’s so completely she was certain Bente had one too. She looked at Reggie beside her. Even little Reggie had a knife on his belt. It looked like a utility blade, but that didn’t comfort Scout much.

Tucker squeezed her close to his side briefly, then took his arm off her shoulders to help himself to a second burger. Scout wouldn’t consider that gesture so much a hug as a way of letting her know about the pistol he wore tucked into his pants.

She had looked. She was certain he hadn’t been wearing that when they were in the hut standing over McFarlane’s dead body.

But should she be so certain? She wished she had drawn her gun then and searched him. Or would that just have led to a gunfight?

Scout touched her fingertips to where an ache was forming at her temple. Was she sure? She summoned the image back to mind and the gun wasn’t there. But now it was.

“Hey, Scout,” Joelle said, reaching across the table to squeeze the hand still clutching a forkful of potato salad. “It’s okay. We’re all on the same side here, right?”

“Right,” Scout said and mustered a smile. “Definitely. All on the same side.”

Tucker’s gray eyes were looking over at her through the fringe of his lashes again, but this time her stomach just quaked with nausea.

She had to get out of here.