Tace flashed his teeth. “Is that an invitation?”
“Whoa.” Sami held up both hands. “Boys, we’re working together right now, so there’s no need to pull ’em out and measure them. You’re both big dicks, so don’t worry about it.”
Damon snorted. “Don’t you mean that we both have big dicks?”
“I said exactly what I meant,” Sami said, flattening her hand over her gun again.
Tace couldn’t help the chuckle, surprised when his chest warmed. “I like you, Sami.” He genuinely liked her. He’d forgotten that fact in the last few weeks as he’d recuperated from the fever.
“Man, you’re smooth,” Damon murmured.
“Shut up,” Tace said.
“Both of you shut the hell up,” Sami snapped. “I feel like I’m in a bad chick flick all of a sudden.” She lifted her gun toward the windshield. “Next guy who speaks in the coming hour gets shot in the face.”
Fair enough.
Tace sat back to watch crumbling buildings and deserted alleyways rush by. Nature had quickly begun to reclaim the earth, poking through concrete and climbing up brick. What was once a perfectly gray and concrete area was rapidly turning green again. Seemed like the earth always won the battle, didn’t it?
The ninety-mile drive took nearly three hours as they tried to avoid roving gangs and Rippers. Soon the smell of the ocean salted the air.
Tace shifted his sweaty back against the seat and glared at the sun. For weeks they’d enjoyed an odd and strong rainy season, but it appeared to be over. Air-conditioning was a thing of the past . . . a luxury already fading from reality. “We in Merc territory?” He broke the heated silence.
“Yep. We’re relocating headquarters to the mansion next to the one the president blew up,” Damon said. He glanced at Sami. “How would you like fresh fish for dinner?”
She lifted a shoulder, but Tace could see anticipation in the curve of her lip. Man, he had to stop focusing on her mouth. “We’re not here for a social hour,” he drawled.
Sami nodded and focused outside the truck, no doubt taking mental notes.
Tace did the same. They drove beyond two fences guarded with guns and into a high-end suburban area full of mansions. He whistled.
“You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff we found in these places,” Damon said. “Drugs, guns, prepper provisions. And lots of dirty homemade videos with fortysomething-year-old women with fake tits and Botox faces. When did home sex tapes become a thing?”
“Dunno,” Tace said, counting soldiers on the way. They patrolled in packs of three, all wearing black T-shirts with different pants. “The black shirt mandatory?”
“On patrol for soldiers, yeah,” Damon said.
Loud pops punctuated the quiet day.
Tace went on full alert. “Was that gunfire?”
More pops echoed, and he partially turned to cover Sami.
Damon swiveled his head. “From the beach.” He yanked the wheel and ripped through the empty streets, driving past a house and right onto the beach. The wheels churned up sand, and the ocean rolled in not far from the truck.
An explosion ripped apart the world, throwing debris into the air.
Tace moved his body between Sami and the fight.
Damon jumped out. “Status?” he barked to a group of men fronting a fence that faced another mansion.
A redheaded guy turned around, blood dripping from his chin, his eyes a wild blue. “Noise yesterday brought them all out—Rippers and rogue scavengers. Third attack of the day . . . and this one has explosives.” His buddies fired over the fence.
Tace quickly scanned the area, his blood boiling. They weren’t familiar with the area, and he didn’t see a safe zone. The truck was too visible. He leaped from the vehicle and yanked Sami out by the arm. “Stay behind me.”
“No.” She pushed past him, her gun already out.
He paused. A tingle spread from his foot up to his knee. God, not now. His vision hazed. That was new. His knee weakened. Shit. He was gonna fall.
