“Well,” she said, “maybe we shouldn’t count us out either.”
“Maybe not,” he said, “but those radio guys made it sound like the people who survived are scared of kids, of us. That means we’re the enemy. We’re the threat. We’ll be lucky they don’t shoot us on sight.”
Ellie was not as unhappy as Alex had expected her to be, even when Tom sat the girl down and explained how things might be very different once they ran into other people. To Ellie, Tom was a soldier, as her father had been. Tom had saved them once before and would save them again.
Over the next two days, Alex re-inventoried their supplies, decided what they should bring, and, if it came down to it—if they lost the truck or got bogged down in snow—who would carry what. Tom worked on the truck, and Ellie stuck close, shadowing Tom, handing over tools. When Tom cranked the starter, they were rewarded with a series of heavy metallic clatters and coughs before the truck settled down to a throaty rattle. Tom and Ellie gave each other high fives, and Ellie crowed to Alex, “And now we got wheels!”
That night, after grilled steaks and baked potatoes, Tom asked, “What do you know about hunting, setting traps, that kind of thing?”
She handed him a plate to dry. “Well, I know how to shoot. I’ve done skeet. I know how to make a deadfall.”
He made a face. “That’s okay if you don’t mind hamburger. How about bow-hunting?” When she shook her head, he said, “Tomorrow, we go out with the bow. You know how to change a tire? Or drive a stick?”
“Why are we talking about this?”
“Because.” Opening the cupboard, he replaced the dried plates. “If something happens to me, or we get separated somehow, you need to know these things.”
She stared at him for a long moment. “Nothing’s going to happen to you.” It was, in fact, much more likely that something would happen to her. She wondered again when she would tell him.
“Believe me, I’d just as soon not go anywhere either, but I want you guys to have the best shot at making it.”
“With that logic, you ought to be teaching Ellie how to handle a gun. If something can happen to you, it can happen to both of us. Then she’d be all alone.” She could tell he wasn’t thrilled with the idea, and added, “She doesn’t have to carry one, but she should know.”
“Okay. There’s a Browning Buck Mark. That’d be good to start with. So.” He carefully folded his dish towel. “Leave in two days?”
She nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
29
29
“But I’ve already got a knife,” Alex said. It was early morning, two days later. The sky was still very dark, almost cobalt blue to the north where the snow must be falling. They were in the front room, their gear and provisions already packed onto the Ford’s flatbed. Alex looked down at the top of Tom’s head as he fiddled with her boot. “I’ll never remember it.”
“The beauty of a boot knife is that no one thinks to look for it unless you blouse your pants or tuck the cuffs into your boots, which you don’t.” Tom gave the right leg of her hiking pants a stiff tug. “How’s it feel?”
“Like I’ve got something clipped onto my boot. Tom, I’ve got the Mossberg, and there’s the Beretta from the safe. You’ve got your Winchester and a Sig, and there’s the Browning, and we’ve got the bow.”
“Which you did very well with, by the way.”
“Like Uryū,” said Ellie, appearing at the door. Her arms were full of green wool: blankets for the dog.
“What?” asked Tom.
“Who,” said Alex. “It’s a Quincy. Anime?”
“And manga,” Ellie added.
“Oh. Well, I know Hellsing,” said Tom.
“You would,” said Ellie. “They all use guns. Except for Alucard. He likes guns and rips people’s heads off.”
“What can I say? My kind of guy.”
“Great.” Alex rolled her eyes. “Tom, I don’t know how to fight with a knife.”
“And with any luck, you won’t have to. In fact, you’ll probably just end up getting yourself killed, so I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“So what good is it?”
“Ask the bad guy you stab when he least expects it.”
“You just said I’ll get myself killed.”
“Not if the first stab’s so good you don’t have to do it again.” He pushed to his feet. “Come on, relax. I was joking.”
“She’s not laughing,” said Ellie.
“This is for just in case,” said Tom.
“You say that a lot,” Alex said.
“Because I mean it.” He ran a critical eye over her body and then shook his head. “There’s still something missing,” he said, patting around his pockets. “Just give me a sec … ah …” He pulled out a holstered handgun. “I knew I had this on me for a reason.”
She knew what it was before her shaking fingers pulled the Glock free. The magazine was missing, but there was no mistake. “My dad’s … Tom, where … how …?”
“Hey, cool, you fixed it!” said Ellie. “Tom made me promise not to say anything. We went back for it the morning after … you know. Tom said you wouldn’t wake up and Mina would protect
you, so I showed him where I dropped it.”
“You went into the water?” Alex asked, incredulous.
“Not me,” said Ellie. “It was way deep and really cold. Tom got it, though. It only took him four tries.”
“I didn’t want to say anything until I had a chance to take it apart, clean it, get it back in working order. Ellie told me it was your dad’s. I figured you would want to have it, and it’s a perfectly fine weapon. Here.” He held up the Glock’s magazine. “The extra’s still in your fanny pack, and I tossed a couple bricks into our gear, too.”
“Thank you.” She carefully butted the magazine into place. “I mean that, Tom.”
“I know.” He held her gaze for a long moment, then said, “Best jack a round into the chamber before you safety that thing.”
“Just in case,” she said.
“So do I get a knife?” Ellie asked.
Tom and Alex looked at each other, and then Alex said, “You started this.”
“Okay, okay,” Tom said. “You can have a knife, Ellie, only yours is going to be a regular old knife-knife.”