“Right. Sorry. I’m trying to take it all in.”
“Well peel the damn tubers while you’re processing.”
In a daze Tamsyn worked beside Devora for the next few hours, doing the prep work and assisting with serving and cleaning. She baked fresh bread, finding all the supplies she’d need in the Fafield’s well stocked stasis keepers. “How can they possibly have so much left to eat?” she asked Devora.
“Jonny and some of his original crew took a few trucks to the city right before everything went to hell and they hit his suppliers. I don’t know if he promised them shelter here or if he rolled in guns blazing and took what he wanted but remember he owns the grocery store so he knew where to get the supplies. He’s done some smart things, I’ll admit,” Devora said, “But he’s gotten mean as a snake and twice as dangerous. The breakdown in law and order, and the power he’s grabbed have gone to his head.”
There was a commotion outside and the two women exchanged glances before running to the front of the mansion to see what was going on. Tamsyn was grateful for the reassuring feel of the blaster in her boot. She toyed with the idea of trying to escape this madhouse while people were distracted but quickly realized the guards posted inside the house were watching people like hawks, weapons unslung.
The crowd spilled outside, carrying Devora and Tamsyn with them in time to see a gaudy, huge groundbus pulling up in the driveway. ‘Lally O and the Celestial Notes’ was written on the side of the vehicle in huge flowing script and a picture of a woman Tamsyn assumed was Lally O had been painted there as well. The bus came to a grinding halt and the doors opened.
Jonny Fafield appeared, leading the singer herself by the hand. She was a sight to see, with her hair in intricate ringlets, blond and red mixed, wearing skintight jeans decorated with rhinestones and a top that revealed nearly all of her assets. She paused on the step and preened as if waiting for applause. Jonny gave the waiting crowd a glare and someone started clapping .Tamsyn kept her hands at her sides as people around her joined in.
“I give you our special guest, Miss Lally O herself,” Jonny shouted. “Come to seek sanctuary and safety with us.”
“I told my boys I knew Jonny Fafield up in Rosewater could keep me safe,” the singer said, her voice carrying easily. “I said we just gotta get there and Jonny will take care of everything. And here we are!” She was beaming and she kissed Jonny on the cheek, leaving a perfect imprint of her red lips.
If she was as good a singer as she was an actress, Tamsyn thought, she was probably someone on her way to the top before the epidemic. It was pretty obvious to Tamsyn anyway that Lally had never heard of Jonny or Rosewater but someone in her entourage must have suggested fleeing here and now the singer was playing it up bigtime. She had Jonny figured out for sure. He could barely take his eyes off her cleavage as she extolled how brave and smart he was and how she could relax under his protection.
Eyes narrowed, Tamsyn focused on the woman’s arm, which was covered in bracelets nearly to the elbow. Lally kept rubbing it before catching herself and gesturing as if to hide what she’d been doing. The bracelets shifted a bit and Tamsyn saw at least one nasty looking red scratch mark. Remembering how Rasty had gotten infected from nothing but a scratch from Clemt, she opened her mouth to say something but then remembered there was no one in authority but Jonny. And he wasn’t going to listen to her concern, not as puffed up as he was right now. Lally was all over him.
“All right now, back to work,” Jonny said to his people. “I’m going to get Miss Lally settled in her quarters and maybe later she’ll give us a mini concert to celebrate today.”
“I’d be happy to,” Lally said breathlessly. “Anything I can do to help keep the morale up and support you.” She trailed her fingers flirtatiously up his arm and cuddled closer.
The guards started shooing everyone inside the house and Jonny escorted Miss Lally up the steps, through the foyer and up the grand staircase.
“Bet she never sees the inside of the tent,” Devora muttered to Tamsyn as the two women headed to the kitchen.
“She knew how to handle him from the getgo all right,” Tamsyn said.
A little later she was in the dining room, which was actually the size of a banquet hall, serving the people who’d come on the tour bus with Lally. One man sat off to the side by himself and he asked her politely if there was any synthcaff available.
“I drove the damn bus,” he said with a grimace. “And I’m pretty wiped out. Haven’t been assigned a bed yet or I’d sleep for three days.”
“Sure, I’ll make you a cup. You look like you could use it.” Rushing to the kitchen she made a big cup of real coffee from a stash she’d found in one of the pantries and carried it carefully out to the dining room. Devora watched her with narrowed eyes but said nothing.
Tamsyn handed the man the mug and held a finger to her lips as his eyes widened when he realized what she’d brought him. “Mind if I join you?” she asked. “My feet are tired from all the time standing in the hot kitchen today.”
“Lady, you bring me a mug of the real stuff and I’ll be more than happy to share my seat.” He slid over a bit on the bench and she sat at the end.
“So what happened?” she asked, trying to sound a bit disingenuous. “Where were you?”
“In New Damarkal,” he said, naming the closest city. “Miss Lally had a gig there. She’s on a tour of the big venues, or was. We did one show as scheduled, not much attendance due to the flu. Then the authorities decided to make the place a shelter for people trying to escape the infected roaming the city. We hunkered down there and made the best of it because we were already there when the edict was issued and because of who she is, we had a pretty sweet set of rooms set aside for our use. At first things were fine—there was food and water and medical attention and the military was guarding the place.” He sipped the coffee and grimaced at his memories. “She offered to do a concert because all the people camped out in the arena were getting restless. She was in the middle of the first set when all hell broke loose. The infected had swarmed the place, drawn by all the people I’m guessing, or maybe the noise of the concert or both. A few infected stormed the stage and her security fought them long enough for the roadies and me to grab Lally off the stage and the whole group of us ran for the tour bus.”
So she could have gotten scratched and maybe even bitten then. “How did you get past the infected?” Tamsyn asked.
“The arena has a warren of tunnels leading outside, for the talent to get away without being mobbed by fans.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Not that the infected are fans of anyone.”
Tamsyn forced herself to smile. “So the tunnels were empty?”
“Pretty much. Some of our group couldn’t keep up. We lost her backup band, two of the dancers…” His voice trailed off and his eyes grew distant. “Yeah, it was bad. A few infected made it into the tunnel and were gaining on us when we broke outside. I sprinted ahead, got Lally to the bus, got the engine initiated and as soon as a few people were on board, I took off. No time for stragglers, not that night. We had two other buses on tour, you know, and the other two didn’t make it.” He glanced at the rest of his remaining group, huddled together at the other end of the table. “Had to leave people behind but it was them or us, you know?”
Tamsyn nodded. “I wasn’t there—I’m not judging.”
“Well they sure are.” He shot a glare at the others, who ignored him. “Saved their asses, ungrateful idiots. None of them can drive the damn bus and they know it.”
“How did you end up here? Does Lally really know Jonny?”
