Page 32 of Following Their Heart

Night 10: Jud

I’m gobsmacked when Corasets her plate beside mine and sits by my side at dinner. I spent practically the whole day with her, got to finally,finallyfuck her. Twice. And she still chooses me over someone she hasn’t spent as much time with.

This is my reward.

I’ve been a royal prick to her since that day I first spotted her in the clearing, but today, I’m trying to be better to her, betterforher. I thought it would be a challenge, but honestly, it’s been a piece of cake. I just had to wrap my mind around the fact that Cora isn’t Melinda. She’s not my cheating wife. I may not be able to see into her heart, like I can with everyone else, but I can look into her eyes and hold her in my arms andknowthat she’s good.

The others know it, too. They’re all smitten with her.I’msmitten with her. I was from day one. Hell, fromminuteone. And that pissed me off like nothing else. Because caring about someone makes you weak. It makes you stupid. Makes you blind.

Maybe I’m weak, stupid, and blind with Cora, like I was with Miranda, but Cora won’t use my weaknesses against me. She’s shown me time and again that she’s on my side. She gets that I’m the leader here, and she stands by my side as my queen, not on my shoulders as someone interested only in their own ambitions.

When she needs something from me, she asks for it with respect. Even when I piss her off, and she wants to give me a piece of her mind, she does it in a way that smooths my feathers instead of ruffling them. It might have taken me longer than the others, but I’m learning I can trust her.

Now it’s time for me to earn her trust. Tonight, I plan to show her that I’m the leader she deserves. I’m the protector she deserves. I can be unselfish, too. I can be respectful. And I’m going to get her to look at me the way she looks at Grim, the way she’s starting to look at Rev and Doc. Not because I’m competing with them, but because I’m one of her men. One of her seven. And I’m starting to be okay with that.

Dinner’s done, and I lead the meeting that’s become our nightly routine. Cora is snuggled up to Grim, the two of them on a couch by themselves. For the first time, I’m not annoyed to see her give affection to one of my men.

I’m in the zone as I listen to everyone’s progress. Doc and Shep finished shoring up the lodge, and it shows. The common room is a totally different space than it was three days ago. The log walls are now whitish-gray with ballistic concrete reinforcement that the guys sprayed on. Upstairs is the same. Every exterior wall, and the entire ceiling has been reinforced inside and out, and the concrete-dust scent hangs heavy in the air. Every window has been replaced, and every door has been fortified. The fireplace is now a storage space for weapons.

Brawn and Rev used heavy equipment to level and widen the road to the spot where we parked the first of six anti-aircraft missile trucks. The trucks are huge and heavy, and getting them into place required a lot of planning and finagling. We could have compromised and chosen easier-to-access spots, but the locations we chose are worth the extra time and effort. After pitching in this afternoon, I can understand how one truck was all we could hope to maneuver into place today.

“Tomorrow, I’ll work with you two again,” I tell Brawn and Rev. “We’ll learn from today and get two more trucks positioned on the south face, come hell or high-water.”

The two men agree with determined nods.

“Shep, Doc, what’s the status on the pelican?”

“We broke Bernard’s connection with Raptor this morning,” Doc says. “The connection was like a cancer or something. I could feel it, and somehow, I was able to heal it.” He shrugs modestly. “And Shep was able to communicate with him.” He nods to our resident cook and gardener.

“Ja.I can talk to him—” He wobbles his head from side to side. “Sort of. It’s more like images and feelings.” He waves that miraculous statement aside and goes on. “The point is, he was happy to be healed, and he hates Raptor as much as we do. He is flying south as we speak to be a look-out for us.”

“That’s awesome,” Scrap says. “You can still, like, talk with him, even if he’s out there?” He circles his arm in a vaguely southerly direction.

Shep nods.

“Wicked.”

“How far out is he?” Rev asks.

“Hard to say.” Shep tilts his head, like he’s concentrating. “He’s been following the Rockies south-east, but right now, he’s above a huge body of water. Like, really big. He’s going to catch fish and bed down for the night and fly more tomorrow. He could have flown further if he weren’t so old.” He shrugs. “I told him it is fine. We are glad to have him help us any way he can.”

As soon as I wrap my head around Shep having a conversation with a bird that’s in another state, I start working out where he could be. “When did he start flying?”

“Dis morning.”

“Big pelican like that, if he caught a good headwind, can maybe go thirty to fifty miles per hour. Multiply that by eight-ish hours. That’s what, three-hundred or so miles? Depending on heading, that’d put him at, let’s see—” I imagine my maps and mentally plot out potential locations in the Rockies with large bodies of water. “Could be Ocean Lake, or maybe the reservoir at Shoshoni. So, central Wyoming? Does he see any signs of survivors out that way?” We’ve scavenged out there, and I have a couple green pins on my map indicating a handful of survivors, but who knows if there are others we didn’t happen across in our travels.

Shep shakes his head. “He has only seen wildlife today. The cities are husks, overrun by weeds and coyotes. The bison are plentiful. No sign of a convoy.”

“Good.” We’ve already established the assault on our settlement will likely come from the air. But you can’t fly choppers all the way from New Orleans. They’ll either bring choppers in a massive, easy-to-spot convoy from down south and launch them from within a couple hundred miles, or they’ll try to sneak up here in a smaller grouping of vehicles and hijack choppers or some other kind of air vehicles from nearby military bases.

The latter would present a lot of unknowns for Raptor to consider, like what if someone already scavenged the bases and didn’t leave anything worth value—spoiler alert: we did that first thing when we arrived up here. We took all the weapons and ammo and disabled all the choppers except the two we moved up here. Another unknown, from Raptor’s point of view, is the likelihood of survivors occupying and defending the bases. There aren’t. We know because we’ve been there, and there aren’t any resources worth setting up shop for. But the enemy would only be able to suss out those answers with their bird spies.

If I were the one planning the mission, I wouldn’t rely on bird recon alone. I’d bring my own air vehicles, ones I knew were gassed up and in good working order. So, I’m betting on a larger convoy.

I tell Shep, “Have Bernard fly over major highways as much as he can. Fly high, so he can see as far as possible. Maybe he can give Scrap’s radar a hand.” I pin Scrap with my gaze. “First thing in the morning, get that radar turned on, and leave it on.” We’re not expecting Raptor’s crew for several more days, but turning on the radar now will give him a chance to get familiar with the readouts and work out any kinks. “And get with Doc to do a test ASAP.”

“Will do, boss.”

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