Are they fighting for Earth, or just on it?
It was a sobering thought. One that spiraled into more. Like, if they destroyed the Monkey Cats, what was to keep the OffFormers from spreading out? Their last reliable intelligence told them that most major cities had at least one ship over them. Were the Off Formers and Monkey Cats fighting in every city, or was DC just special?
And would freeing DC really do anything at all? Or was it like pissing on a wildfire?
Gabriel pushed the thoughts from his head. Those were the big, existential type questions he wasn’t qualified for. The kind people in starched suits and grim faces made while sitting at glossy tables in windowless boardrooms. Gabriel was just a pair of boots on the ground. He needed to stay focused on that.
“Our current issue,” Irving said, moving past Gabriel’s question. “Is how to get to the Host Monkey Cat.”
“No one is calling her that.”
Irving’s mouth twisted. “It’s the only logi?—”
“They’re calling her Queen Dolly.”
“Why in the world are they calling her that?”
“Because Dolly the sheep was the first cloned mammal. And Blake said she was a Queen like from that movie, so…” Gabriel shrugged.
Irving’s face said he was surprised they even knew about the first cloned sheep.
“Blake said she was on a roof. Could we do some recon to see about a fire escape?” he pulled the map closer. The area the vet clinic had been in was outside of the metro area, but still heavily populated. Mostly commercial, with a few studio apartments. Gabriel hadn’t spent enough time in the city, but he did know the architecture leaned toward brick row houses.
“It’s possible, but last we checked, the area was hot.” Irving was referring to the group he sent immediately following Alvarez’s team's return. They’d lost a good vehicle trying to get close.
“That’s a good sign. Means there’s something worth protecting.”
Irving hummed. “We’re down to two trucks and a car, if Thomas can get that one running.”
Neither of which helped them get to a roof. Blake thought it was at least a three-story building. Child’s play back when he had the might of the US Government funding him. But standing here in the lobby of the Potomac View Motel, it felt impossible.
Once again, he pushed aside the problem ofhowand got back to logistics.
“Where do we stand on diesel?”
The first spring storm hit in the middle of the night. It was wet enough that no one envied Judd and Phin as they went out to do some hunting or scavenging. Whichever they could successfully do. Phin looked thrilled when they left.
With the rain thrumming against the windows and the fire banked in the lobby, it was quite cozy. Gabriel felt the pull of a late afternoon nap and had to shake out his legs to keep from answering it.
Leaving the maps and other notes behind, he stepped into the canteen to snag a bite to eat. Someone had left some boxes of snack cakes piled on the counter, and he perused them. Pulling out some cinnamon thing, he unwrapped it and bit down. While it was far from the most delicious thing he’d ever eaten, it wasn’t the worst. The cinnamon did a pretty good job of covering the taste of preservatives.
“Toss me one,” Blake called from one of the tables. He had several intimidating-looking textbooks open, a pen in one hand and a highlighter in another.
“What kind?” Gabriel asked, assessing the boxes.
Blake shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. The plastic wrap is probably more nutritious.”
He tossed Blake one of the cinnamon confections he was eating and watched as Blake took a big bite. He sighed. “But damn, they’re so good.”
“Calories don’t count in a war zone.”
Blake smirked; his lips dusted in cinnamon sugar. “Good to know.”
Gabriel was tempted to lick the sugar off his lips, but they weren’t alone.
Because Victoria was the most responsible of any of them, she’d taken to tutoring Sara in things that weren’t cooking, illicit drugs, or how to load a semi-automatic versus a revolver. Phin had yet to allow her to actually shoot a weapon, but Gabriel suspected that was more to preserve ammo than because of her age.
The kid looked grim, hunched over a notebook, muddling through what looked like addition and subtraction. Several young adult books Gabriel recognized from Blake’s collection were sitting just outside of her reach. Judging by the way she looked at them, she would rather be reading them.
