Page 29 of Haven

I hesitate. Maybe I’m being foolish. But I’ve relied on my instincts all this time about whom to trust and whom to shoot, and they haven’t let me down yet.

“Okay,” I say. “I guess that would be all right. He shouldn’t be long.”

Layne is smiling at me as Travis puts the Jeep into park. It doesn’t have any doors, but it seems to be in pretty decent condition. For the first time, I notice a dog is sitting at Layne’s feet. Some sort of shepherd mix with a pointy nose and intelligent, dark eyes.

“This is Duke,” she says, stroking the dog’s head.

“Hi, Duke. I’m Faith.” I’m still holding my gun—I’m not about to put it away—but I’ve lowered it so it’s not pointed right at the Jeep anymore.

“Faith?” Layne glances over at Travis, who returns her look like they’ve both thought of something. “You don’t happen to have a farm in central Kentucky, do you?”

I blink, my heartbeat accelerating. “Wh-why?”

She shrugs, still smiling. “Just that there’s a Faith who picks up requests on this help network we work with. Mack mentioned her. She offers produce sometimes and has someone who can help with cars. If that happens to be you, then it’s very nice to meet you.”

I’m relaxing even more now. I wasn’t wrong about these two. “You know Mack?”

Layne is grinning like she ran into a long-lost friend. “He’s a good friend of ours. He never stops raving about your eggs and vegetables. I can’t believe we ran into you here. We were just helping get some people resettled and are on our way back home. What are you doing so far east?”

“We’re on a supply run. Trying to find antibiotics for one of our people. Mack mentioned there’re some resources here that haven’t been looted yet, so we were hoping...” I glance back down the road, but no sign of Jackson yet. “You don’t happen to know if there are any pharmacies around here where there might still be medication?”

“There’s an old Walmart a few miles that way,” Travis says, speaking for the very first time. He’s got a thick, pleasant mountain accent, and he gestures in the direction Jackson and I were headed. “Keep goin’ for a while, and you can’t miss it. It’s been picked over a bit, but y’all might be able to find somethin’ if you don’t mind diggin’ around.”

“We don’t mind. Thank you.”

“Are you sure Travis can’t help with the engine? He really is a good mechanic.”

“It’s just a belt. Jackson went to get one. There’s a store back there where he thought he might find one.”

“Do you need any other kind of medication? We don’t have antibiotics, but we’ve got Tylenol and aspirin and ibuprofen if you need any extra for your sick person.”

“I think we’re fine on that. Mack got us some extra Tylenol, and we found some ibuprofen recently. You keep what you have. Someone else might need it more.”

“Sure thing. So when did—” Layne’s conversational tone breaks off abruptly at exactly the same time Travis tenses and lowers one of his hands to a holster on his hip.

I raise my own pistol in the direction they’re looking, relieved when I see Jackson. He’s got his rifle aimed at the Jeep, and his expression is tight. Dangerous.

“It’s fine, Jackson. Don’t do anything stupid. They stopped to help.”

“We don’t need any help,” Jackson says in almost a growl. “Back the hell off. Right now.” He’s soaked with sweat. It’s dripping down his face and making his T-shirt nearly transparent. He clearly ran all the way back if his ragged breathing is any indication. He’s got a couple of things that look like drive belts hooked over one shoulder.

“I told you. They stopped to help. They’re friends of Mack. Part of that help network.”

Jackson doesn’t lower his rifle, but he looks a little less fierce. “Hell of a coincidence. Just happened to run into you?”

“We were just resettling some folks out this way. There’s hardly anyone else around here. Mack told you about this area, right? It’s not that big of a coincidence.” Layne’s voice is just as sweet and reassuring as it was with me. “We didn’t want to leave Faith all alone out here. Didn’t seem safe.”

“Faith can take care of herself.” He gives me a quick, searching look.

“It’s really fine, Jackson. You can pull in your quills.”

He does lower his rifle at last, but the look he gives the Jeep isn’t entirely friendly.

“We’ll take off if you want us to,” Travis says, “but I’d rather make sure you get your vehicle workin’ before we leave you stranded.”

That makes good sense to me, and even Jackson doesn’t object. He moves over to the ATV, pops the hood, and pulls the belts he found down his arm. I don’t actually know if he just got extra or if he got different sizes, but the first one he maneuvers into the engine evidently fits. He turns the ignition and drives it a few feet. It seems to work fine.

“Excellent!” Layne exclaims, clapping her hands like a little girl. “Now you’re good to go. I hope you can find antibiotics at that Walmart.”

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