Year One (Chronicles of The One #1)(118)

“A what?”

“Natural gas well.” He gestured vaguely toward the window. “It’s piped into the house. We’ve got gaslight, gas stove, gas every damn thing. Some wind power, too.”

She washed her hands in the farm sink, then the herbs and vegetables. “I need a few things. More eggs, a small bowl, a whisk.”

“I’ve got it.”

After heating the skillet, she put on bacon. She took a chef’s knife—serviceable—from a block, pulled over a cutting board, and began chopping while it sizzled.

Cooking. Normal. How could anything be normal?

And yet, chopping herbs, she felt more herself than she had in weeks.

“You were in the army.”

“Yeah, for about ten years. I’d had enough, but I got out primarily because my mother got sick. Cancer. They needed help around here while she was fighting it. She fought it, beat it. And then … Well, fucking Doom.”

“I’m sorry.”

They worked together in silence for a few minutes. He got her the can he used to store bacon grease, the plastic tub he used for kitchen compost. And watched, mildly in awe, as she cooked.

“How long have you been on the road?” he asked her.

“I don’t know. I lost track. It was the Fourth of July when … I left.”

“About six weeks. Where’d you start?”

“We were in a place we called New Hope, in Virginia. I think south of Fredericksburg. Where am I now?”

“You came a ways. This is Maryland, western.”

“What are the mountains?”

“The Blue Ridge.”

“Are there other people?”

“Some. There’s a town—more a settlement now. We do some trading. I was taking produce in. There’s a mill. They’re making flour. Got some sheep, a loom. A blacksmith, a butcher. You work with what you’ve got.”

She nodded, folded the egg over the vegetables. “Is there a doctor?”

“Not yet. A vet assistant’s as close as we’ve got.”

She lifted the omelette onto one of the plates he’d set out, cut it in half, slid half onto the second plate.

“Are there any Uncannys?”

“A few sprinkled in. Nobody has a problem with it. Do you want that milk?”

“I hate milk, but yes, it’s probably good for the baby.”

He got out the jug, poured her a short glass.

They sat at the kitchen counter, a classy and mottled gray granite. The first bite had her closing her eyes as her system absorbed.

He took a heftier bite. “Okay, you were serious about the chef deal. I haven’t had anything close to this good in a hell of a while.”

Calculating, she ate slowly. “If I could stay for a couple of days, I could pay you back with cooking. And we had a garden in New Hope, so I learned how to garden. I could help there. A couple of days should be safe.”

For both of us.

“Then what?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about anything but moving, getting away, keeping the baby safe.”

“When’s she due? You said she, right?”

“Yes. The last week of September.”

“You figure to deliver her on your own, on the road?”

She knew how it sounded, had worried about it constantly, but hadn’t seen a choice.

“I hope to find a place and … do what I need to. I won’t let anything happen to her. Whatever it takes, nothing’s going to hurt her.”

“There are women in the settlement—houses scattered around.”

“I can’t … I can’t risk so many people. The Purity Warriors, you don’t know.”

A pretty park, a happy celebration. Bodies scattered, smoke rising. Max’s blood soaking the brown earth.

“Yeah, I do. Some of them came through the settlement a few weeks ago. They didn’t get a warm reception.”

Fear jumped back into her voice. “They were here.”

“From what I hear there are some of them traveling around, looking for others who think like they do. Like I said, they didn’t find that here.”

He ate, considered. Between the Purity Warriors, Raiders, and general assholes, the road wasn’t close to safe for a woman alone. Add in that that woman was due to give birth in about eight weeks.

And fierce or not, she apparently had a target on her back.

He scooped up the last of his eggs, turned to her. “You should think about staying here. You can take over the kitchen, that’s for damn sure. You should think about staying at least until after you have the kid. Four bedrooms upstairs. I’m only using one.”

“They could find me. Eric—”

“That’s the brother?”

“He’s mad with power. There’s something about my baby, something special. Important. I don’t know. But Eric and Allegra want to kill her.”

“Well, if she’s special and important it’s just more reason to get her here safe. I don’t like people who start trouble, start wars, look to generally fuck things up. However they’re built, I don’t like it.”

“You don’t even know me.”

After nudging his empty plate aside, he shrugged. “What the hell difference does that make?”