Solace & Taproots

3.13

It was a chilly and mind-bogglingly foggy morning three days later as their little exodus prepared to depart. The atmosphere reminded Rebecca of getting up early on the first day of a camping trip, trading sleep for excitement and an early start on the road ahead. Ronnie told her the general vibe did share some feel with loading up before a deployment exercise in Germany's alpine woodlands, down to the MRE hot cocoa that Chris had passed around.

Rebecca felt driven to express her gratitude to Lt. Fairbanks and "LCpl" Douglas (Doug) Epstein, and spent the prior two nights baking in Trent's ovens with supplies she'd begged, borrowed, traded, and raided a dozen local abandoned kitchens for. Even after attrition to desperate walk-ups following their noses, she managed a good four to five chocolate chip and sugar cookies (more of those due to ingredient scarcity) per caravan vehicle, and Sam jumped in with Grandma Rose's secret oatmeal raisin recipe. (The trick was blending the raisins into the batter. Really threw people for a loop.)

One of Epstein's colleagues must have possessed both some artistic talent and an arsenal of paint markers, because the "Valkyriemobile" was now badged as such in silver lettering on the rear, complemented by a simple but identifiable representation of a Pegasus-riding woman holding a rifle over head on the front left fender like B-17 nose art. Sam's door was ornamented with three x'ed out SUV's. All of the Black Tusk logos had been, well, blacked out with spray paint, except for one of the smaller logos on the rear, where it was instead supplemented with "better run!" like a sassy bumper sticker. As a finishing touch, someone with better handwriting had added "Sparky", "Gunny", "Rose", and "Rufus" in swooping cursive just below each door's respective window, along with a lightning bolt, a Gunnery Sergeant's stripes, a rose (with gold blood dripping from a silver thorn), and a paw print.

Just when Rebecca finished marveling at how they'd clearly been adopted, she heard Sam squeal excitedly from over by the semi trailer. She looked over and saw her watching their cannon mech getting loaded, and if she squinted, she could make out spiky, nay, thorny vines drawn on the hull and partial barrel shroud.

The art fairy was clearly a sneaky bugger, because when Rebecca came back from taking a closer look, there was a newly inked cookie with a bite missing below the lightning bolt. Well, at least she was certainly off to a good start feeling appreciated on her new adventure. She looked around trying to spot likely suspects, but couldn't pick any out in the swirl of activity. When Epstein popped back into view from connecting one of the wrecked trucks to an even bigger military cargo hauler, she waved to get his attention. When he saw her and waved back, she gestured sweepingly to all of the art on the left side of the truck, and held up her hands in a heart shape. He laughed and replied with a thumbs up, so she figured word of their appreciation would get around.

Everyone she knew, and some she didn't, circulated around to wish them well. David brought her the latest satellite maps (!) he'd manage to finagle. Months old, but still! She gave him a big hug and promised to send regular regional intel updates. Barry gave her a few ideas for watch and patrol schedules, all written out as drafts she could just fill in with names where he'd left blanks. Trent handed over an annotated and heavily dog-eared cookbook and a freaking goat femur for Rufus, and told her that as her official bartender, he was glad she'd found someone and totally approved. And thought it was totally hot. (She punched his arm for that as he laughed and turned away with a wave. Probably to go get a matching bruise from Sam.)

The wheelchair-bound scout clasped forearms with her, introducing himself as Riley. Rebecca thanked him for standing up for her, and said she really, really hoped he felt better soon. He was somehow firmly convinced that he would all thanks to her, and promised he'd forsake such heroic nonsense next time, in favor of solid cover.

That made her laugh. "I'm still working on that lesson myself, just ask Ronnie or Sam," she confided, and leaned in for a peck on his cheek before his buddies wheeled him off haranguing him about it. Well, whatever, he hadn't needed to go out of his way to defend her in front of Lassart like he did.