The Last Mission of the Living (The Last Bastion #2)(37)

A throng of kids all under the age of ten rushed along the street, chasing a bright red ball. Laughing and shouting, the children darted around Torran and Lindsey, but nearly toppled an elderly couple wheeling a small metal cart down the road.

“Hey!” Torran shouted after the squealing youngsters. “Be careful!”

“Meant no harm!” a redheaded boy replied.

“Yeah, well, watch out for your elders, all right?” Torran gave the passing couple a brief nod.

The couple returned it thankfully.

“Didn’t see them,” another boy with a rakish grin and blond hair answered.

“Well, we’re not as fast as you and can’t duck out of the way like little monkeys the way you can,” Torran pointed out.

“Do you play football?” one of the girls in blond pigtails asked. Lindsey wondered if she was the other boy’s younger sister.

“Oh, back in the day when I was your age,” Torran admitted. “I’m a bit rusty. Toss it my way and we’ll see.”

The response was one of the little girls kicking the ball right at him. Torran expertly kicked it back, much to the delight of the children.

Lindsey laughed as the ball was knocked back and forth between the kids and Torran, but then one of the drones turned down the narrow pathway and instantly the game was over. While the kids scrambled out of the way and down a side street, Torran and Lindsey circumvented the drone flashing the latest news on the sanitization of the valley on its big screens.

“I thought you were going to thrash them,” Lindsey remarked. She was relieved he hadn’t. Though the kids had been thoughtless, they were also just children. The city was hard to live within and there was not a lot of space to play. In her younger days she’d played plenty of street football.

“Nah, they’re just little people with way too much energy.” Torran shrugged, his narrow face somber. Running a hand through his brown hair, he left the longer ends near his forehead sticking out at charming angles. “They just need to be reminded to watch out for others.”

“True. If the last few months have proven anything is that we need to stick together.”

“I hear ya on that,” Torran said in his faint Scottish accent.

Lindsey’s boots splashed through a puddle from a water main a group of female techs were trying to repair. The old equipment was obviously giving them issues and the group looked agitated. At least there was hope for new equipment in the near future.

They hit a snarl in the foot traffic caused by the break the water main, and Torran reached back for her hand. She surprised herself by taking it. Maybe it was just her loneliness, but she was enjoying her day despite some of the more dramatic parts.

“So what do they do?” she wondered aloud, indicating the bustle around her. “People who don’t have assigned jobs. How do they busy themselves? All day? The streets are always so full.”

Pulling her up to his side, then releasing her hand, Torran said, “I’m not sure, honestly. I suppose most are looking for food other than the rations. Maybe clothes. Equipment. Making credits any way they can. Or maybe they’re visiting friends. Shagging.”

“Shagging?” Lindsey laughed at that comment. “I suppose that makes a lot of sense. Especially with men being so outnumbered by women, I’m sure a lot of you guys keep really busy.”

Torran chuckled. “Well, yeah.”

Lightly gripping her arm, he tugged her into what may have once been an alley, but was now a walking path. It wasn’t as congested as the main road and led to a steel staircase. Tilting her head, Lindsey saw the monorail station looming ahead. The entrance wasn’t closed off and people were walking along the narrow tracks.

“Ah, a shortcut,” she observed.

“I know a few around here.”

“So, you never told me what you’re doing on this side of town,” Lindsey noted. “Isn’t the Scottish borough on the other side of the city inside the Isles Sector?”

Torran patted the leather bag hanging from his shoulder. “I was picking up some supplies, actually. An old girlfriend got me hooked on tortillas.” Flipping up the flap, he revealed two packs of the delicacy.

“You walked all this way for tortillas?”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely.”

Intrigued, Lindsey said, “So are they good?”

“You’ve never had tortillas?”

Shaking her head, Lindsey hoped he’d maybe offer her one. She was a little hungry.

“Well, if you like I can make you a taco sometime.” Then, as if expecting rejection, he said, “No strings attached, of course.”

“Strings are fine actually,” Lindsey replied, surprising herself a bit. He was definitely her type with a long, leanly muscular build and dark hair.

“Oh?” Torran gave this thought. “Oh, well. That’s good.”

“I mean, if you want to attach strings, that is.” Lindsey felt her cheeks flush, not quite sure where she was going with the conversation. “Friendship strings.”

“Friendship strings are good. But I am single. I was sorta seeing this one girl, but she wanted too much.”

“Oh, she was getting too serious?”

“Well, she wanted me to get serious with her and her four sisters.”

Clanking up the steps toward the monorail station, Lindsey lifted an eyebrow. “Oh?”