The Last Bastion of the Living (The Last Bastion #1)(17)

“No. It’s volunteer only. They didn’t tell me the mission until I volunteered.”

“I should have known.” He leaned back on the pillows, covering his face with one hand. “The canceled meetings, the aircraft, the SWD being involved, and you being late back from your patrol.”

Maria tenderly rested her hand his chest. “I have to do this. They’ll give me a plot of land once the valley is cleared and the gate is repaired and shut. I can pick anywhere I want. I’ll get a standard settlement deal - one prefab house and furniture.” She leaned her chin on his shoulder and stared at him. “I want out of this city, Dwayne. I want those f*ckers gone. I want a life with you. Maybe we can’t have kids, but we could have a good life if those things aren’t out there.”

Lifting his hand, he settled it against her cheek. “How long?”

“The serum will give us four to six months to clear the valley. They think I’m unattached, so...”

Dwayne held her tenderly against him. “Other people will do it. You don’t have to go.”

She was silent, unsure of how to answer.

Dwayne chuckled, shaking his head. “What am I saying? Of course, you do. You’ve been going batshit crazy with the rolling blackouts and shortages just like the rest of us.” He kissed her brow, smoothing her hair back from her face. “The one thing you can’t stand is not being able to do anything.”

“Exactly. So now that I can do something...”

“Once you’re back, the divorce will be settled, the twins will have graduated from high school, and we can concentrate on us. We will get married.”

“And move out to a nice prefab house near the lake,” Maria added.

“Absolutely.” He swept her hair back from her face. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’m doing this for us.”

“I know, but I’ll still miss you and worry about you every second you’re gone.” He sighed, then asked, “When are you going to leave?”

“In forty-eight hours,” she answered, her voice catching. Rubbing her palm against his chest, she struggled not to cry. “I love you, Dwayne Reichardt.”

“I love you, Maria Martinez.” He slightly frowned. “Forty-eight hours, huh?”

“Uh huh.”

“You won’t be doing much sleeping,” he decided and dragged her over on top of him.



*



The small flat was refreshingly cool in the early hours of Maria’s last morning in her home. The air conditioner whispered above her head as she scrubbed the counters and sink. The last of her coffee stores percolated in the old coffee maker and the remains of her monthly rations were packed in a box near the door. She planned to give it to the Roses before she left her flat for the last time.

It felt odd packing up and preparing to leave, but when her duty was complete she wouldn’t be living in the city. Instead a house near the lake would be waiting for her. She had already reviewed the designs on her personal pad. Dwayne had sat at her side as she had studied the various floor plans before making her final choice. He’d left the decision entirely up to her. Again, she was reminded of why she loved him.

“You’re fighting for it. It’s your house. Just give me a recliner, a vid-screen, a beer, and I’ll be fine,” he promised her.

A long tendril of hair fell into her face as she finished rinsing out the sink and she pushed it back with a damp hand. Looking over her shoulder, she surveyed the flat one more time.

All of her uniforms were neatly packed in one small bag and her personal items were in another. She’d never decorated her tiny space and her personal possessions were meager. She was allowed only a few small mementos out in the field, but she was fine with keeping her possessions in storage until her return. As long as she had a life to return to that was all that truly mattered.

Straightening, she tossed the sponge she was using into the recycle bin and set her hands on her hips. She considered changing her clothes before calling her mother, but decided against it. Her final change of clothes before she left the flat would be into her uniform, and her mother had never approved of her enlisting.

Angling the vid-screen to face the bed, she slid her personal pad into the port in its side and dialed her mother. Sitting at the edge of the bed, she tucked her hair back from her face and took a deep breath. This was not a conversation she was looking forward to. The “Call Connecting” screen remained much longer than she expected. When it flickered alive, her brother appeared.

“Hey, Mariano,” Maria exclaimed in surprise, not expecting to see him.

“What you up to, sis?” Her brother’s dark kinky hair, big dark eyes, and charming smile were a welcome sight. He was the oldest in her family and strongly resembled her father. Like Maria, he was also named after their father.

“I need to speak to Mama. It’s important. Is she around?”

“Yeah. Give me a second.”

Her brother vanished from the screen. The camera transmitted a good view of her mother’s living room. The furniture was old, overly stuffed, and covered with brightly colored throws. A huge block of ice sat in a basin slowly melting as a fan whirred behind it. The wall was decorated with pictures of the family arranged around an enormous picture of the Virgin Mary. It was familiar and comforting. Maria felt a little tension leave her shoulders. Her mother entered the scene, sat down in her recliner and fussed with the fan so it would blow icy air over her.