We’ve met our fair share of lurkers. There’s ash all over New Jersey thanks to us. But, despite Maverick’s insistence that there are plenty of rogues on the Outside, we haven’t met one yet.
Until Mav returns from scouting ahead with a woman wearing a backpack of her own—and a pair of sunglasses.
She has basic survivor gear on: a pair of muddy jeans, a faded grey t-shirt, and tennis shoes that have seen better days. Her curly black hair falls around her shoulders. She has a mid-size build, but curves that are enviable.
After the Turning, a frame like that says you not only survive, but you have plenty to eat.
I’d put her around thirty-five, maybe a year or two older. Definitely closer to Mav’s age, though I wouldn’t describe her as motherly the same way I did Chloe.
Something about her is attractive. I see it. I hope Chase doesn’t.
I know from one look that Maverick does.
“Veronica McLean,” she says after Mav introduces Chase and me to the rogue. “Aren’t you two adorable? They make a cute couple.” She nudges Maverick in the arm. “Don’t you think?”
I pretend not to hear her. Instead, I focus on the shades.
It’s sunny out. I’m beginning to think all the non-stop fire all over the country has really put global warming into overdrive because we’re knocking on October’s door and it’s still way too damn hot outside. In the before times, I wouldn’t be surprised to see a woman like this Veronica wearing sunglasses.
But now?
“Sunglasses?” I ask her.
She knocks the ear hooks on each side, making the frames dance. “Of course. They make me look good.”
I watched her do it. I’m pretty sure her eyes are blue. Not black.
Not a lurker.
Okay, then.
It’s weird, having a fourth travel companion.
On the one hand, it works out. Veronica and Maverick hit it off almost at once. I’m not sure if it’s because they’re closer in age or they’ve both spent a lot more time on the Outside so they have that in common, but almost immediately after he introduces her to us, they partner off, Maverick leading the way while Veronica keeps up easily.
And that’s the problem. Those two are getting along like flies on honey, but that leaves me with Chase. I got so used to refereeing between him and Maverick, without the two squabbling over stupid shit, it’s just me and Chase and a whole lot of baggage between us.
I’m not talking about our backpacks and bedding, either.
It doesn’t take long before Maverick invites Veronica to New York. At first, I thought she was just enjoying the company, but when he tells her about the lurker nest we’re targeting, she shrugs her shoulders and says it sounds like fun.
Fun.
Man, rogues are weird.
I’ll take the help, though. And, well, it’s nice having another woman around. Maybe with Veronica here to distract Maverick, Chase won’t shoot daggers at him with his gaze for the sole crime of being friendly with me.
He’s jealous. Chase, that is. He’s so jealous, he’s almost green with it. I try to act as if I don’t notice it. Maverick, realizing that a younger man’s issues aren’t his problem, totally disregards it.
If anything, I’m basically like a daughter to him, not a prospective lover. Veronica, on the other hand…
I’ll give the two of them credit. At the end of the world, it’s nice to see two people who aren’t screwing around, dancing around the subject of attraction and having sex just to have it. All through today’s travel, Veronica’s laid it on pretty thick. I guess I should be glad she didn’t target Chase with her flirtatiousness, but Mav… he’s no match for Veronica.
They don’t even wait until they’ve known each other a couple nights. Almost immediately after we made camp for the night, setting up a fire and eating whatever we have in our packs, Veronica buddies up with Mav, the two of them bowing their heads together, murmuring about something I can’t hear over the roar and crackle of the fire.
Chase noticed their instant spark, too. He noticed it, and I don’t think he’s a fan. Jealous, remember? When he looks at the two of them cozy and intimate, almost like it was love at first sight for them, I know he’s wondering why I’m purposely keeping my distance.
To be fair, I’m thinking the same thing.
