“Shut the fuck up,” Brant says, the tips of his ears going red. “I meant I’d help with his fucked up neck,” he grumbles. “I was being helpful and shit.”
“Is that what your masseuse said too?” Theo teases.
Brant grabs a water bottle and chucks it at his head.
I laugh at the back and forth that goes on, but refocus on our surroundings. So far, things are going as well as they can, but with each mile that brings us closer to our destination, the tension in the car rises. None of us are sure what we’re walking into. Sheriff April didn’t mention anything about his son having a family, so we’re all hoping that it’s only the one guy we have to deal with. Then again, we did just find out that sheriff even had a kid, so he’s not exactly big on dishing out the details.
“Should we talk about what to do in the event this guy doesn’t want to go with us?” Theo asks out of nowhere.
Judging by his question, his thoughts aren’t far off from where mine just were. None of us answer.
“I mean, the sheriff did say that he and his kid haven’t talked in a long time. So there’s a good chance this Remington guy might not want a reunion with dear ol’ dad. Do you think the sheriff is expecting us to bring his son back whether he wants to come or not?” Brant adds, and again, the car falls silent.
“He’d have access to more supplies and aid in Endstone than he would be out here. That’s for sure. But I don’t know that we have the right to decide that for him,” Theo finally offers.
“We can give him his options, but if he doesn’t care and wants to stay out here, exposed and at risk, then he’s a dumbass and good riddance,” I tell them. “We’ll leave him behind and let the sheriff know we tried.”
Brant chuckles. “You always were a softy,” he goads.
I smile and meet his blue eyes in the rearview mirror. “If he doesn’t want to come, then I don’t want to waste daylight trying to convince him. I know this feels dangerously close to a mission, but no government official is ordering us to bring this guy back. If his issue with his dad is big enough that he can’t see past it to do what’s the safest and what makes the most sense for survival, then that’s on him. I’ll march my happy ass back to the car and be on my way.”
“Well, looks like we’re about to find out. Turn right up here, and then according to the map, we snake around a tight curve and the house is a mile or so down from that,” Theo announces.
Brant pulls our guns from the very back and hands Theo his. Theo checks it over, and I catch Brant doing the same. A part of me feels like showing up armed to some random guy’s house is a recipe for disaster, but another part of me acknowledges that since we have no idea what we’re walking into, it’s better to be safe than sorry. Dust trails behind us as we wind around on the road, and I spot a good-sized house not far in the distance. It’s two stories with a wraparound porch, and there’s a modern log-cabin look to the whole thing.
It’s about seven in the morning, and everything seems quiet and sleepy. There’s no movement of curtains or any other indication that anyone inside is awake and aware that we’re here. There’s a round driveway in front of the house, and I can picture people renting this place for hunting trips, pulling up to the front of the porch stairs to unload their luggage.
The brakes give the faintest squeak of protest as we come to a stop in front of the house. I quickly pass out the gloves and masks that sheriff packed for us, and we all pull them on. With practiced ease, Brant hands me my rifle, and then we all get out of the car. Brant and Theo watch the house as we approach it, while I watch their backs.
My M4 is raised and ready while I scan our surroundings. I stop at the base of the stairs and wait until Brant taps off to trade places with me. I swivel and follow Theo up the stairs, leaving Brant and Puddles to guard us from behind. Theo knocks on the door, and adrenaline rushes through me at the sound. I move off to the side of the door, and Theo steps back and out of reaching distance, in case anyone inside this house is sick. Worst case scenario, I’ll be able to get a shot off before anyone can reach either of us.
There are no sounds of movement inside the house. Theo steps forward to knock harder on the solid wood door before stepping back again. We wait, and I’m just about to voice that it seems like no one is home, when the sound of a shotgun being cocked sets off all of my internal alarms, and then the icy bite of a metal barrel is pushed between my shoulder blades, making my blood run cold.
Theo and Brant whirl in my direction, both of them quickly masking their shock. I can’t believe whoever this is just got the drop on us. Not even the dog fucking heard him. The sheriff better forgive me for decking his son...which I’ll do just as soon as he pulls the gun out of my back.
“Is there something I can do for you G.I. Joes?” a rich, smooth,femininevoice asks.
Brant keeps his rifle trained on the girl, but Theo points his gun to the ground and seems to take a second to collect himself before he answers.
“We’re here to speak with Remington April,” he announces, his voice authoritative.
“And just what business do you have with Remi?” she asks, her tone silky with just a hint offuck-offto it.
“I’m sure you’re aware of what’s going on in the country ma’am,” Brant starts. “And, um...Remington’s father asked us to come here and invite him back to Endstone where it might be safer, you know, given what’s happening.”
It grows quiet, and I try not to think about the tickle I feel as a bead of sweat traces down the back of my neck.
“Oh, I’ll just bet he did,” she grumbles, and relief floods me when the barrel of the shotgun pulls away from my spine, and I feel the woman take a step back from me.
I lower my weapon but don’t move more than that. I’m not getting my head blown off by some trigger happy redneck just because my curiosity got the better of me.
“Cobra Commander, tell Snake Eyes over there to move his sights away from me. Guns in my direction make me twitchy,” the silky voice instructs.
Brant aims his rifle just wide of the woman behind me, and the wood of the porch creaks as Theo shifts his weight.
“Can I turn around, or are you going to get twitchy and put a hole in my back?” I ask, the irritation clear in my voice.
“I promise no new holes...for now,” she answers.
