We stopped at the end of the row of shops. The second store to the end was one of those boutique outdoor shops catering to those with a big budget to spend on outdoor gear. You know that type who wore their logoed parka around town instead of at the ski slope. Of all the stores here, it was probably the best place for me to find a warm spring jacket.
Ror’k maneuvered his shuttle right up to the store so that we’d basically be stepping out of the shuttle and directly under the store’s awning, which was out of sight of the flyers overhead. When he threw open his closet door, which until this point had looked like a regular wall panel, I gawked.
“Jeez! There are enough weapons in there for a small army.”
He grunted. “Each is for a different situation. It is prudent to train and be proficient in them all.” Instead of reaching for the staff he’d carried before, Ror’k opted for a pair of swords. “Long staves are difficult to wield indoors. These blades are better. Many hunters have a preferred weapon, but I have trained many young hunters in the art of wielding them all. I do not have a favorite.”
“Good to know.”
“I briefly trained the young males who tried to steal from the settlement. They are fast learners.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that. I hope they’re safe and New Franklin forgives them eventually.” I grabbed my old jacket carefully from a clean spot. I knew it had been decontaminated, but touching bug brains still felt wrong, even if it was sterile. Whether I founda new jacket or not, I needed to dispose of this one. “I kind of feel bad that I didn’t figure it out. I mean, they are just kids, and every adult in their life has failed them.”
“I wish they were safe as well. They will make great warriors. I’d rather them be on our side.” He approached the door. “Stay here. I will make sure it is safe before you step outside.”
Minutes later, he was back at the shuttle, declaring the shop free of scourge or other dangers aside from a broken window and some glass.
The shop was dim and dusty, and a good portion of the outdoor equipment meant for survival had been looted clean. But that was fine; we weren’t here for freeze-dried food or the butane canisters. And there was still a decent selection of spring jackets and windbreakers at the back of the store.
I pushed aside a mannequin that had fallen into the aisle, sending a puff of dust into the air. I coughed, even as the plastic torso, barely attached to the stand, fell right back into place. Behind me, Ror’k made a deep rumbling sound that was definitely barely contained laughter.
I turned and shot him a glare.
“You are cute,” he said, not even sounding the slightest bit apologetic. “You bashed a centicreep in the head, but are struggling with a plastic form.” He yanked the mannequin off its broken stand and tossed it aside, clearing the way for me.
“It’s different. The mannequin isn’t trying to eat me.”
“Its loss. More for me. You are delicious.”
I huffed, rolled my eyes, and stomped on ahead, but I couldn’t stop the fizzy soda pop feeling bubbling in my belly from his flirty words.
After a quick try-on of all the different options, I settled on a jacket with a zip-out fleece lining and a water-resistant windbreaker outer shell, which looked much easier to clean than my previous one. It was warm, functional, and fit me well. I grabbed a new hat, an ultra lightweight daypack, and a pair of shades too.
“What are these for?” he asked as he picked up a pair of sunglasses from the display.
“They are to protect your eyes and help you see when the sun is too bright.”
He tilted his head. “Like when our shuttles dim the brightness of our external feed to protect our eyes. Except this is portable. Very smart.”
He tried to put them on his face. They looked ridiculously small. I stifled a giggle and scanned the display for a larger pair, though I wasn’t sure any of them would fit him.
“Here. Try this one.”
He took it from me and placed it on his face.
“Better. But it’s still too small.” I picked up a pair with oversized, exaggerated frames. “These might work if the arms were repositioned wider and extended longer.”
He tried them on. The size of the actual frames was a perfect fit, even though the arms were too short.
“Yes,” I said, my heart quickening a beat. “Very smart indeed.”
He turned to look at himself in the mirror and posed his head at different angles, clearly liking what he saw. I liked what I saw too. Smart but still ruggedly handsome, the frames added a dangerous charm to his already irresistible silver-fox look. He gave off a total movie-star heartbreaker, like he should comewith a warning, but as an alien, sort of vibe. Who would’ve thought Xarc’n warriors looked damn good in sunglasses?
But since the arms were too tight and short, holding onto the side of his head by pressure alone, they popped off his face and clattered to the ground when he moved. He retrieved them and frowned at the frames.
“This is fixable.” He went to the display, picking up another pair and comparing the lengths of the arms. “They are all too short.”
“You can straighten them and add a strap to the back to hold them on your head. I think I saw some elastic back in the swimwear area.”
