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He heard Chuck heaving in the stall and his own stomach revolted. The muffin and
coffee came up and he felt better clean, almost, as if he d rid himself of the end of the
C.S. garbage. Chuck, pale and shaky, leaned on the stall.
 You okay, kiddo?
 Oh hell no. Seven clung to Chuck s waist, unsure whether he was supporting the
big man or using him for support. They stood that way for a long time, coming down
from the adrenaline and sheer terror of the day. Chuck s color came back and Seven s
hands finally quit shaking, so they washed up and rinsed their mouths.
 Let do some trip planning, Seven, Chuck said as they walked back to the truck.
 Going back through Heartland would be a bad idea.
 Yep. Seven climbed back into the passenger seat and got out a water bottle. He
fired up the atlas.  Chuck, I can t get anything but Heartland routing, he complained
after a few minutes.
Chuck lowered the paper atlas and traced it out for him.  We ll take 65 to Gary
today. Then tomorrow we ll brave Occupied Chicago to I-90. 90 rolls us right home to
Seattle.
 That s like a thousand miles to get to the Tribal Border.
 Same distance as the Heartland route, and this is U.S. all the way, except for that
stretch in Illinois, but the U.S. holds that. Chuck fumbled the keys when Seven handed
them back.
 I ll drive, Seven said.  You re still all shaky.
69
Angelia Sparrow & Naomi Brooks
 I m a rotten passenger. Let s check the truck until I calm down. We can lay over in
Gary if we need to get her fixed. He gave Seven a smile.  See you figured out the
onboard. Good job.
Seven felt his whole insides light up at the praise.  I couldn t sleep, he said.
 You got a helluva nerve. Chuck didn t bother closing the curtains before kissing
Seven.
Seven melted under his mouth, clinging as if still afraid of losing him. Busy hands
groped in Chuck s hair, stroked his back and shoulders as Seven pressed hard against
him. When they parted, Seven laughed sheepishly.
 You would not believe how hot I am for you. He pressed up close again,
reassuring himself that Chuck was really still here with him.
Chuck smiled and shot a glance at Seven s jeans.  I d believe it. He stroked his own
fly.  Ridiculous as it sounds out of a man who came real close to getting executed, I
could pound you through the mattress right now.
 Not safe, Seven said.  We re too close to the C.S. The memory of Holland haunted
him.
Chuck gave him a grin.  I can hold out until, he checked the map for the next rest
area,  Cave City, but no longer. Nothing like almost dying to make you appreciate life.
 I m starving too. Seven felt silly even saying it.
 You flushed your breakfast, kiddo. Chuck laughed when his own stomach
growled.  And I didn t have any. He tossed Seven a meal packet and set one on the
console for himself. He pulled the privacy curtains and started stripping.
 Are we eating or screwing? Seven asked.
 You re eating. I m changing clothes. Chuck stripped off the thin scarlet prison-
issue broadcloth, and his own underwear.  Damn, they confiscated my favorite shirt
and my boots. He pulled on jeans and socks, and dug in the locker under the bunk,
finally producing a pair of battered sneakers. He shrugged into a long-sleeved tee shirt
showing a wolf howling at the northern lights.
Seven watched all this, nibbling at the food pouch. Any other man would have been
cussing and ranting about injustice and having a general fit about things. Sometimes the
way Chuck stayed so calm all the time scared him. His stomach decided to accept the
food and he watched Chuck tie his sneakers.
 I m gonna burn the C.S. crap. Chuck bundled it all, jumpsuit, underwear and flip-
flops into a paper bag. He scrounged in one of the cubbies and found a lighter and
fluid.
Seven hopped out of the cab with him and followed him to a barbecue grill under
the pine trees. Chuck shoved the bag under the grill, doused it in lighter fluid and set [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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