Page 87 of The Commander

“When did he call you that?”

“When I was a girl,” she replied, a soft sadness touching her voice.

“You had your dad, yes? That’s good, a good memory. But that was long ago. You’re a woman now.” Bastian growled. A low, possessive sound.

Her eyes moved over his face, his mouth. Her pupils expanded as she physically responded to the lowered timber of his tone. Hurt, in shock, grieving, his little mate couldn’t resist him.

She probably hated that.

“You’re mine. My Kitten. You were his dear, but you are my breath, my purpose, my reason.” He reached out, lightly tracing the line of her jaw with his fingertips.

“I don’t know what that means,” she whispered under his caress.

“Then you’ll learn.”

The diagnostic panel finally flashed. He ran his hand over it, searching for their route, but it still wasn’t there. The external sensors were also gone, along with any system connected to the machine’sability to tell him where the fuck they were or where the fuck they were going.

Without guidance systems, they’d have to navigate the old ways.

“Before you were in Springfield, when your dad taught you how to hunt—did he teach you any other unusual skills?” Beyond the road and a few scattered trees, an endless flat landscape stretched all the way to the horizon. No obvious landmarks. At least, not yet.

“What skills?”

He waved a hand over the blank screen. “Tracking. Mapping. Not getting lost. Because it looks like the EMP destroyed my maps.”

Her eyes widened. “You mean you don’t know where we’re going?”

“We will be safe; I know the general direction. Southeast. I can smell the changes in vegetation, track the sun’s position. But specific roads and a direct route, that is lost.” He’d studied the map and had a good idea of where he wanted to go, but the best route, with the fewest obstacles, was gone.

“We’re lost in alien occupied Fallen Merika with no GPS.”

“Not lost. Temporarily navigationally challenged. I won’t drive us into a river, woman. Humans managed without satellites for centuries. You can show me what else you learned from your father figure. Guide me.”

Kitten straightened. “Fine. I can help. What direction are we going? East?”

“Southeast.”

“Keep going this way for a bit. We need to find a sign. There are some corporation cities still standing between here and there” Forgetting herself, she gestured to the road with her hand. Bastian saw her wince from the corner of his eye.

“Control should have leveled the cities and turned them into mulch.”

“There were people there.” She shot a glance in his direction as if to check to see that he meant what he said.

“It would have simplified matters. Not only are the places full of environmental poisons, but they are also shelters for rebels and a draw for scavengers. The city is where I believe Mackie found the power cells.”

He resisted the temptation to turn and grin at her. In spite of all she’d been through, his mate still valued a bile filled humanity. Mister Danov’s underhanded tactics served to support Bastian’s belief that humans were vermin. All of them except his Kitten.

“We needed those power cells,” she said.

“They did come in useful, yes. Not all the areas between here and old Kentucky are passable,” he redirected the conversation.

“I need to look for signs, something that tells me where we are. Routes to cities like Greater Louis are still the best marked. There should also be plenty of old guideposts. Have you seen any markers? I haven’t been watching.”

“Guideposts and markers? You mean the painted buildings and roofs?”

“Yes. The red is for radiation pockets, the green arrows for towns, that sort of thing.”

Bastian knew of those. His predecessor had ordered them painted over or demolished, but he saw no need for that.

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