Dark of Winter: Prepper Book Two

Chapter VIII: Awakenings

The early morning sun is warm on our skin as Jake and I sit on the deck and sip steaming hot cups of bitter instant coffee. The beverage is as black as used motor oil and the taste is likely not too far off either. Eggs are sizzling and popping on the coleman stove. None of us have slept and dark circles ring our bloodshot eyes. Starlings chatter noisily in the treetops while a trio of squirrels run frantically up and down the fence caught up in some sort of dispute. Ari tends to the eggs and arranges some thinly sliced homemade bread on a rickety tin and wire contraption that serves as a toaster.

"Just about done," he says.

Jake picks up a canvas fetch toy and pitches it far into the back yard, it barely hits the ground before Merida catches up with it and snatches it from the grass. She returns it smartly, dropping it at my feet and awaits another toss her tail wagging madly.

Jake nods. "A dog can only serve one master."

I pat Merida on the head and scratch behind her ears sending her briefly into a spasm of doggy rapture. "Yeah." I reply, but my mind isn't really on dog training. I'm mostly thinking about Heath and I'm overcome with anxiety over his condition even if I'm not showing it outwardly. I give the toy another half-hearted toss and return to blowing on my hot coffee.

Ari serves us our breakfast and disappears into the house with another plate.

"Dunno why that fuck gets breakfast too," I say.

"Because we got what we want from him and there's no need to punish him further. You beat the snot out him, terrorized him and left him tied to a chair all night in piss-soaked pants in the garage. He's suffered enough." Jake says, looking out at the Sun and shoveling eggs into him mouth. I never really saw Jake as the merciful type. I never really expected him to show more compassion than me. Mine is an upside-down world.

"I don't think so."

"Look Connor, if you want to exact revenge, at least direct it at the right people. Danny is a pawn in this, he's given up all the intel we need and he's more useful alive and in good condition than otherwise. Be smart Connor."

Jake is entirely correct, which is probably what pisses me off the most. Danny talked, gave up some useful information and in the process has himself become a bargaining chip of no small value. Any reply I could muster would just come out wrong at this point, so I swallow my retort and finish my plate washing it down with the dregs of my coffee. I glance up at the Sun and let out a sigh.

"Sorry about the truck," Jake says, changing subjects and wiping the remains of his eggs off the plate with his toast. "You know, your truck was a lot faster than I was expecting. I mean, that thing hauled ass." He continues, maybe in an effort to put me in a better mood.

"Hauled--past tense," I reply. "Did you really have to jump a ditch? Couldn't you just have head him off at the highway?"

"Seemed like the only way to cut him off. It's not like I had time to form a committee and do a cost-benefit analysis. Plus, I did get him."

"How bad is it?" I ask.

"Unfortunately it is pretty bad, and will likely get worst since we don't have a flatbed to use, so we'll have to chain it to the TAPV and drag it back here. That will likely cause more damage."

"Great."

"As long as the frame isn't bent, we can likely scrounge up the parts from some wrecking yards. Fixing it with only hand tools will be a bitch, but it's not impossible." Jake says.

"I dunno, might be best off just to drain the gas out of it," I respond.

"Ah, don't write it off just yet. At least I didn't roll it. We also scored a nice UTV in the process too."