Fighting for Rain - BB Easton Page 0,9

Self-defense. Every day, when you wake up, I want you to ask yourself what you need to survive that day, and then your job is to go find it.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Okay.” I nod once, like a soldier accepting a mission. “So today, we need soap and water and a better place to sleep.”

I like this—having a goal again. Taking direction. It feels like it did back when we were searching for the bomb shelter. When it was just me and Wes against the world. It was almost fun.

Wes smiles, but his tired green eyes don’t even crease at the corners. There’s a sadness in them that feels new. He usually looks so determined, so focused. Now he just looks … resigned.

“See?” he says, letting his fake grin fall as two miserable mossy eyes bore through me. “You got this.”

“We got this,” I correct.

“Yeah.” Wes swats me on the side of my butt and waits for me to climb off his lap. “Well, we have to take a piss, so … time to get up.”

We both stand, and I watch as he stretches and cracks his neck from side to side. He’s gone—I can feel it. The fiery, passionate Wes that I was just beginning to get to know has become the Ice King again. Cold. Hard. Good at slipping through my fingers.

The air temperature seems to drop ten degrees as he breezes past me and over to the main entrance. When he doesn’t hear anything outside, he pushes it open with his gun drawn and disappears into the foggy morning.

Wes said my job was to figure out what I need to survive and go get it.

But I already let it walk out the front door.

Wes

I’ve got my dick in one hand and my gun in the other as I piss on a dead bush outside of Pritchard Park Mall. No sign of the Bonys yet. I have a feeling they’re not exactly morning people.

Fuck knows I’m not.

I zip my shit up, wishing like hell that I had a cigarette.

Rain’s dad probably had a whole stash in their house somewhere.

I look past the parking lot, through the chain-link fence, and up the ramp to the overpass. The eighteen-wheeler wreckage is maybe a hundred feet before the exit, hidden from view by the woods—just like Rain’s mom’s perfectly good motorcycle. I feel the weight of the key in my pocket, calling to me.

Leave before you get left, it says.

I chew on my bottom lip. Then, I reach into my pocket and pull out the key.

Leave before you get left.

I look down at the keychain in my palm for the first time since grabbing it last night. Attached to the metal ring is a frayed strip of leather, knotted on both ends and strung with a dozen mismatched plastic beads. The ones in the middle spell out I ♥ MOM.

Leave, dumbass—

“Wes? Are you still out here?”

“Yeah.” I spin around as Rain peeks her head out of one of the broken entrance doors.

Her big, round, puffy eyes lock on to me, and a giant smile spreads across her tear-streaked face. “One down, two to go.”

I pull my eyebrows together, but before I can ask what she’s talking about, Rain pushes the door open with her boot and holds her sparkling clean hands up so that I can see them.

“I found soap!”

I pocket the keychain and follow Rain back to the tux rental place where Quint and Lamar spent the night. Quint is still behind the counter, unconscious. His neck is bandaged, but the shard of glass is still there, poking out through the gauze. Lamar is sitting on the floor next to him with his back to the wall, and gauging by the bags under his eyes, I think he stayed up all night watching his brother breathe.

“The employee bathroom still has soap in the dispenser!” Rain chirps, pointing toward a hallway on the right side of the shop. “No running water though. I had to use some of the bottled stuff. Sit.” She gestures toward the checkout counter.

I lean against it and toss a glance at Lamar. “You okay, man?”

He nods, but his eyes never leave his brother’s face.

I wish I had something encouraging to say, like, I’m sure he’ll be okay, or, Rain will fix him up, but the motherfucker hasn’t moved a muscle since I pulled him out of that bulldozer last night. For all we know, he could be brain-dead.

Rain sets her backpack on the counter next to me and