Page 52 of Resilience

“Thanks, man!”

Jordan went through a side door. A few seconds later, the overhead began to roll up. Sam pulled the van in, and the door started rolling down as he cut the engine and he and Monty climbed down.

“You don’t have the door on a remote?” Sam asked as he and Monty met Jordan near the side door, where there was a keypad on the wall.

“They say it’s more secure if somebody has to physically press the code in. I guess if it’s remote, the code can be hacked? I don’t know. The only tech I care about is my PS5.”

Monty raised his arms over his head and stretched. “We off the clock yet?”

“I hope so,” Sam said. “I need a piss, and I’m fuckin’ starvin’.”

“We’ll be doing guard shifts all night,” Jordan reminded them.

Monty hooked an arm over Sam’s neck. “Which is why we need to get to partying right now, before it’s too late!”

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~oOo~

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“You been staring at your phone all night,” Jordan said as he passed the blunt to Sam. “You workin’ some kind a deal you gotta babysit?”

Sam had first watch, starting at eleven, and he already had a good buzz on, so he passed the blunt on to Monty—and gave him a quelling look when Monty gave him that smirk again.

When Monty made a subtle, ‘we’re cool’ gesture, Sam set his phone face-down on his lap and turned back to Jordan. “No, I’m not working a deal. What? I’m just having a conversation.”

Yes, he was texting with Athena. Yes, he’d rather be doing that than sitting here behind the Nevada clubhouse talking bikes and politics with a bunch of crabby old farts. Zach and Jay had gone off so Zach could show his brother the plans for the house he and Lyra were preparing to build, and everybody else was either old or crabby or both—or a prospect. Sam would have preferred texting with Athena before the brand-new change in their relationship, but now, she was all his brain wanted to think about.

“Sorry we’re boring you,” Jordan said and looked at his watch.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that, too.”

“The way you keep checking your watch,” Monty pointed out as he handed the blunt back to Jordan, “looks like we’re not the only ones bored.”

“We’re just not baked enough is the problem,” Jordan said and took a big hit—he blew it out so fast, though, he wasted most of it. “Sam, man, c’mon.” He held the blunt out to Sam.

Sam took it and handed it directly to Monty. “I’m on watch in a couple hours. I do not need to be baked straight through while I’m guarding the van. Thanks though.”

“Mr. Responsibility over here,” Jordan complained. “You saw the security. It’s stupid we gotta guard the fucker, too. More bullshit prospect busy work. Monty, help me out. What do you do to get this asshole to lighten up?”

Monty shrugged. “Looks to me like Sam’s doing what he wants to be doin’. Anyway, I ain’t his keeper.” He took a hit and passed the blunt back to Jordan.

Jordan dropped back into his chair like he was pouting.

Sam stood up. “Yeah, this is a laugh riot and all, but I’m gonna go inside and find something to eat.” He walked away and left Jordan to his mood.

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~oOo~

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Jordan had been acting like a basic bitch, but he wasn’t exactly wrong. Sam was bored out of his head standing watch from eleven to two. The way the compound was laid out, it didn’t seem like there was a lot of danger to worry about. The land was flat desert in every direction, with sightlines like five miles long. And it was eerily fucking quiet once everybody was asleep. No birds or anything. Total fucking silence. There was no way to sneak up on the place, and certainly no way to get into this bunker of a garage without being heard.

But, again, he was a prospect, so he did what he was told. He walked the compound perimeter a couple of times, then parked his ass on the bench in front of the charter’s racing shop and messed around on his phone, looking up every ten minutes to see the same vast view of literally nothing.

Finally, he heard scuffling over the gravel, and he looked up to see Jordan hurrying toward him. “Hey man, I’m up,” he said. “Any trouble?”

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