Page 4 of Digit's Deflection
“Yes, sir,” I respond, and the others echo my reply.
Gathering around the map table, we focus our attention on detailing the best strategy we can for this rescue. Because that’s exactly what it is – a rescue mission. We have every intention of bringing Commander Jones home alive and as unscathed as possible, to be reunited with Indie.
Nothing less is acceptable.
3
LIORA
Closing the doors on the back of the U-Haul van, I can’t help but sigh. After twelve long years of moving from place to place, I’m hitting the road again. In the beginning it was a matter of survival.
I kept moving so that no one from my hometown could track me down.
But then I realized I was just kidding myself. No one in my hometown gave enough of a rat’s ass to look for me. Not even my father. There was only ever one person who would have done that. Treven. But as weeks rolled into months, and that eventually became a year, then two, I realized even he wasn’t coming.
I kept moving anyway. Because then it became more about not feeling at home anywhere I stopped along the way. Somehow, there was nowhere I found that seemed welcoming. Then again, I’m not sure I have a clear idea of what home feels like since it’s something I never had.
My mother left when I was five – old enough to remember her, too young to be without her. And my father? Well, he resented the hell out of me for “making Mama leave, because I was bad.” Yeah, growing up was real fun in my house.
Through all of that though, there was Treven. Until there wasn’t. And I’ve been adrift ever since. Like a ship lost at sea, with no anchor to hold me in place, safe from life’s cruelties. He was my rock. The one person who sawme. Who actually cared about me.
Adjusting to being without him was agonizing. More difficult than I could ever have imagined. The day I ran away from the little hole-in-the-wall town I grew up in was the day my spirit died.
Now I’m on the move again, looking for a new start. Hopefully, this time I’ll find that unknown something I seem to be searching for everywhere I go. With no clear destination in mind, other than somewhere I can drop my U-Haul off, I can go anywhere. So I’ll just hit the road and see where it takes me. And who knows? Maybe this time I might just find that elusive place called home.
One benefit of moving so often is I get to see so much of this beautiful country. The landscape constantly changes as I drive. I stop long enough to refuel both the truck and me before hitting the road again. Hours turn into days, with no clear destination. But then, this morning, as I was passing through California, I saw a board that looked interesting.
Riverton.
I’ve never heard of it, but the board is eye-catching andmakesme want to visit. And surely a beach town will be heaving with work opportunities. I mean, people have got to eat, right? My waitressing skills are top notch according to my clients over the years.
We don’t talk about the lost opportunity of going to college. That ship’s sailed, and it’s no good revisiting the past. It won’t bring it back. So we continue to push forward, ever onwards. Just one foot in front of the other.
Finally, with the sun beginning to set, I see the skyline of the seaside town of Riverton against the backdrop of what promises to be an incredible sunset. I’m not sure what it is, but as I heave a sigh of relief that my road trip is at an end, for the moment at any rate, I feel something shift, settle, within me.
I’ve never heard of this place before, but for the first time ever I feel like I might just have found somewhere I can be happy, as the town comes into view around one last bend in the road.
First order of business is to find a place to sleep tonight. In the morning, I’ll set about finding a job and storage for my few possessions. And then I can tackle the task of some place to live. Who knows? I might even find myself finally putting some roots down. God knows, I can’t keep living the life of a nomad.
Making my way into town, I spot a pizza place that looks like it’s hopping. As my stomach grumbles, I figure now’s as good a time as any to head on in and grab some pie and ask if there’re any vacancies for servers. Two birds, one stone, and all that crap.
The sign on the window proudly proclaims Nero’s Pizza to be the home of the best deep-dish pizza in town. We shall see about that, Nero, we shall see. Chicago’s going to be hard to beat.
The smell that hits me as I clear the doors has my mouth watering, and I begin to reconsider my stance.
“Hi. Welcome to Nero’s. What can I get you?” a young woman at the counter asks with a sweet smile.
“Hi. Can I have a couple of slices of Buffalo to go, please?”
“Sure thing. That’ll be fourteen fifty.”
I pay her and, while I wait, I scan the restaurant. Besides the large take-out counter, there’s a large seating area packed with smiling patrons, so clearly Nero’s isn’t overstating the quality of their pizzas. It’s obviously the eatery to hang out in.
A table over in the corner of the room catches my attention. It’s a group of military men; their similar buzz cuts and buffphysiques tell their own story. They’re all of a similar height, for the most part, but one particular guy is huge. I’m not great at guessing people’s heights, but he’s got to bewellover six feet tall and built. Damn.
Out of nowhere, a pang hits me so hard in the chest, I’m surprised it doesn’t knock me on my ass. He’s never far from my mind, but seeing these sailors, it makes me wonder whether Treven ever joined the Navy. And, if he did, how he’s fared.
“Here you go, ma’am,” I hear the server say, and return my attention to her.
