Age of Monsters by John Schneider (books to read for self improvement .TXT) 📗

indicating Ariel back in the van, “aren't you with her?”

Terry shrugged.  “She's there,” he said.  “It's not like we're married.  If you hadn't noticed, she's a little cuckoo.”

Jonah HAD noticed – and he was anxious to defuse the entire subject.

“Look,” he said, “she's married.  Very married.  And a couple phase-shifts out of my league even if she wasn't.”

“Ah,” Terry nodded wisely.  “She's a queen.  'Treat the queens like whores and the whores like queens.'  Works every time.”

“So what would that make Ariel?”

Terry shrugged.  “I told you.  She's a loon.”

Jonah was beginning to get impatient.

'You know what?” he said.  “Just leave Naomi alone.  She packs a gun, and she can get kind of pissy.”

With that, he turned to stand face-to-face.

“And frankly, so can I.”

Terry stared back a moment, debating the challenge.

But perhaps having not actually intended offense, he backed off.

“No need to get testy,” he said.  But before he moseyed his way back to the van, he gave Jonah a knowing man-nod to where Naomi was climbing out, stretching her own legs.

“It's the end of the world,” Terry said.  “Can't think of a better reason than that.”

He nodded to Naomi as he climbed back in the van.  Naomi looked at him, irritably, before marching over to Jonah.

“You know we could both hear you,” she said.  “It's the mountains.  Your voice carries.”

Behind her, there was a brief ruckus in the van and Ariel's voice – “A LOON?  You asshole!” – followed by a load smack and a yelp from Terry: “Owww, BITCH!”

And then Otto: “Owww, BITCH!”

Jonah smiled a little, but it faded at Naomi's stern glare.

“I don't need you fighting my battles for me,” she said.

“What battles?  I told the guy to back off.”

Naomi's eyes narrowed.  “I am not YOURS to protect.  Understand?  I don't even know you.  We are two people traveling together in a disaster.”

Jonah was taken aback – and found himself a little bit angry.

“Fine,” he said.  “I will remember that.”

And with that, he tossed the firewood he'd been gathering aside, brushing his hands, and simply stalked back to the van.

After a moment, Naomi picked up the loose branches and began gathering the wood herself.

Jonah kicked over a loose stump and sat down, staring after her as she meandered down the road.

He was actually mad at himself – he'd been stupid enough to let her drag him out into the middle of nowhere.  He could be safe in his cabin right now – minus TV and Internet, he wouldn't be living demonstrably different than he had the last ten years.

And then to get THIS bullshit?

He was beginning to think he really didn't like Mrs. Naomi Kathryn Anderson-Walker all that damn much.

In fact, as he thought about it, his temper began to boil over.

Maybe it was just time to tell the queen about herself.

He found himself on his feet and moving after her.

The dumb bitch had wandered out of sight – which was stupid enough anyway – oh, but SHE could take care of herself.

Jonah followed the road around the first turn and saw her sitting down on a road-side log.

She had her dead phone out in her lap.  Her head was in her hands and she was crying.

Jonah felt his temper fizzle.

A woman's tears, he thought – it was like a voodoo-hex.

And apparently because he really was just that stupid, he actually felt the momentary impulse to go and try and comfort her.

In other words, impose himself.

But he stopped, realizing that was clearly not what she wanted.  So instead, he simply stood out of sight, watching the path until she was done.

Only then did he step loudly onto the road, calling over, “Hey!  You got the firewood, yet?”

Naomi stood quickly, wiping her eyes.  “Keep your shirt on,” she hollered back.

Jonah turned back, hearing her muttering under her breath – nothing complimentary.

Back at camp, Terry and Ariel had apparently already made-up – again, hooray for short-term memory – and they were digging a pit for the fire.

And even though he'd been stuck in the back of the van all day, Jonah crawled wearily back inside, like a tired badger into its hole.

With a deep sigh, he lay his head down on his pack.

Above him, the bird-cage dangled.  Inside, Otto cackled down in Terry's voice.

“So, she's not yours?  She's available?”

Jonah spared the little lizard a dire eye.

“I hate that little bastard,” he muttered.

Otto chittered.

Chapter 23

Lucas left his meeting with General Rhodes, ready for the fight.

He was a good soldier.  He had his mission, and he knew as much as he needed, which was just enough to get it done.

Rudimentary communications had apparently been reestablished – with secrecy no longer a priority, basic contact was enough.

According to General Rhodes, some tower, somewhere, had kicked back on-line – perhaps through automation – and had reestablished contact with the EITS station, and with the back-up database in its computer system, the digital age had been reactivated – a half-life that had allowed direct communication with surviving overseas forces – holed up in bunkers in Europe, Russia, and China – and by extension, access to a world-wide nuclear arsenal that had never been released – because really, what use would it have been to nuke their own cities?

It was ironic – the cities failed, but the nuclear weapons designed to destroy them survived.  The very last blurb of technology preserved, put back in human hands the power to make the destruction total.

Damn, he thought, that sounded like Doctor Holland.

Lucas had been quickly brought up to speed.  They knew quite a bit more than when his plane had gone down just ten days before.

Most significantly, they knew about the Food of the