“Each minute we delay makes traveling more dangerous.” He scrubbed a hand across his chin. “We’ve either got to leave now or stay in the city and wait out the fighting. That could take weeks. Maybe longer.”
Was he right? “We don’t have the money for a motel for more than a night or two.” She ran her tongue over her teeth, thinking. Traveling out of the city would be more dangerous, but that didn’t mean they would be affected. “I think we’ll be fine.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Why do you think that?”
Because her father hadn’t warned her of any danger. When she’d asked why they needed two guns, he’d said he was only giving them two for her peace of mind. He would have given her some sort of special instructions if she was going to run into criminals. “I don’t think the government would move so many reservists that they’d put the city at risk.”
He stared at her, speechless for a moment, then turned toward the backroom door. “Hey Speedy,” he called, “you’re not living up to your name.”
The door banged open, and Speedy dawdled over, a bag in one hand, a half-eaten burrito in the other. “Oh, so sorry. Did waiting inconvenience you? Couldn’t be helped.” He took another bite of his burrito.
Man, the black market wasn’t big on customer service.
Speedy handed the bag to Charity. She opened it to check the contents. Before she’d completely gone through it, Enzo grabbed her elbow and towed her down the aisles toward the door.
“I need to make sure everything is here,” she protested.
“We have a truck full of goods,” he said. “We’ll be prime targets.” He cursed again. “Hurry.” He took hold of her hand and picked up his pace. She nearly had to run to keep up with him.
Once outside, he continued pulling her down the sidewalk.
“How dangerous is this?” she asked, more worried. “Maybe we should stay in the city until it’s safe.” Her mind went to Callum’s parents. They’d said they wanted to help Charity, but they were likely staying in a hotel themselves. “Do you know anyone who can put us up for a while? Friends? Family?”
“If I had, I wouldn’t be a harvester.”
“How bad was this data entry mistake you made?”
“Bad enough that I’d rather take my chances with the criminals on the road.” He slowed his pace back to a quick walk. “But I don’t have the right to unilaterally make the decision. If you’re afraid to go, we’ll find a way to stay. We’ll think of something.”
Staying in the city would mean the two of them would be together for days, perhaps even weeks. Just the two of them. Maybe that was supposed to happen. Or maybe Enzo would realize he wasn’t going to be arrested for whatever he’d done,and he’d decide to go back to his old life. Or, worse, maybe he’d be caught and arrested.
Outguessing fate was difficult.
After a few minutes, they reached the parking garage. “I’ll ride shotgun,” he said and tossed her the key. “If you want, we can use the rest of the money your father gave us on a motel. I know of some cheap ones that don’t ask a lot of questions.” He slid into the passenger side.
The thought of spending the rest of the co-op’s hard-earned money on a motel made the decision for her. She couldn’t waste it due to fear of the roads.
She climbed behind the wheel of the truck. “We’ll head home. If things look bad, we can always turn around and come back, right?”
“Only if this truck can outrun the other vehicle.” Enzo took his gun from his pocket and laid it on his lap. “It’s got a chance. The slavers like to drive fast vehicles, but we’re carrying extra weight.”
“How well do you shoot?” she asked. “Because if you’ve never practiced, you should be the one driving, and I should ride shotgun.”
“You drive,” he said. “We’ll be fine.”
He was either optimistic about his aim, assumed waving a gun would be enough to keep them out of trouble, or data entry clerks had more interesting jobs than she’d previously supposed.
They leftthe city without a problem. An older woman sat in the security booth, checking the paperwork of the vehicles that left. Some of the booths had been closed. Was Enzo right and more of the military had been moved to fight at the border?
The road in front of the city stretched clear of trees and tall brush for a mile in all directions, a measure of precaution. But after that, trees, bushes, and the occasional abandoned building blocked the view and provided places for vehicles to hide. Enzo took a pair of binoculars from the glove box to search the area ahead. “The first five to ten miles will be the most dangerous,” he said. “Raiders will stay close to the city to catch cars before the roads branch off in too many places.”
Charity’s gaze darted back and forth across the road. When Milo had driven to the last market, slavers had boxed them in. At the first sign of a roadblock, she would turn and head in the opposite direction.
They drove five miles without incident. No sign of trouble. Maybe they would be fine. Maybe all their worry had been for nothing. Then she passed by a large dark shape partly hidden in some trees. It didn’t look natural. She caught sight of movement in her rearview mirror. Enzo turned in his seat. He’d seen it too.
A brown truck emerged from the trees and pulled out onto the road behind them. Raiders.
“Pick up your speed,” Enzo said.