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Authors: H. P. Mallory
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The fact that I’d even seen another compound (when Christina gave me a tour of the prison on Compound Three) was breaking news, well, according to Knight, anyway. Apparently, Christina took this undercover stuff pretty seriously because she refused to meet Knight and her team of Resistance officials in the same place twice. And , no one knew exactly where she spent her time holed up when she wasn't visiting the various compounds, much less where she slept at night. Knight also inferred that not even he knew where Chr istina's secret abode lay. A ccording to rumors on base, she never stayed at any one location longer than thirty minutes. But I guess paranoia is survival’s best friend, so who was I to judge?
"So you think we actually have a chance in hell of defeating my father?" I asked, growing tired of the uncomfortable silence between us. It was like there were so many proverbial elephants in the room, er the SUV, that I felt claustrophobic, like I was slammed against the window between three trunks and a huge elephant’s ass, the air in the confined space evaporat ing into a vacuum.
"If I didn't think we had a chance in hell, I wouldn't be here," Knight answered rather crassly. I frowned, figuring I deserved that one because my question was a stupid one. Well, excuse the hell out of me for trying to break the incredibly awkward silence.
We were driving along a dirt road that led away from Compound One. We'd been driving for maybe twenty minutes before we hit another dirt road that led to the west of Compound One. After being on that seemingly endless stretch of nothing for another ten minutes, we hit a third dirt road, upon which we were now traveling.
"How do you even keep track of where you're going when there aren't any street names and everything looks the same?" I asked. Now, more than ever before, I was hell-bent on starting some sort of conversation that might prevent Knight from bringing up the "us" conversation again. In the last thirty minutes, he'd already attempted it twice.
"I've been doing this a long time," he answered tightly.
I was spared the need to respond when he suddenly stopped in the middle of the road, looking like he forgot something. He backed up maybe five feet and then stopped again, putting the Denali in park as he opened his door. A sudden and persistent beeping blared through the silence, telling us the door was left ajar. He ignored it and walked to the front of the SUV, the headlights bathing him in white light. Turning away from the lights, he held his arms out straight on either side of him, stretching them wide. Then he dropped his head back and closed his eyes. A split second later, he let his arms fall and turned around to face me, beckoning me forward with a wave of his hand. Although I found his display strange, I possessed neither the curiosity nor the energy required to investigate it. I just shrugged and unbuckled myself, jumping down from the Denali and walking toward him.
"Was that your best impression of Close Encounters of the Third Kind ?" I asked with an irreverent laugh once I caught up to him.
He offered me an unimpressed raised eyebrow.
"Scanner just below that tree," he replied while jerking his head to the right. I followed his gaze and noticed a pine tree in close proximity to us, along with about twenty others. Given his less than precise directions, it wasn't a big wonder that I couldn't locate the so-called scanner.
"Well, if Rand McNally needs new recruits, I'd advise you not to apply," I said in an irritated tone.
I got the same unimpressed expression, this time with the opposite eyebrow raised. I just smiled pleasantly and waited for him to explain exactly what in the hell he was talking about. But instead of an explanation, he grabbed my hand and pulled me forward, until I was standing beside him, in the middle of the headlights.
"Stand here and stretch out your arms like I just did," he said hurriedly.
"Why?"
Knight rolled his eyes and shook
"So you think we actually have a chance in hell of defeating my father?" I asked, growing tired of the uncomfortable silence between us. It was like there were so many proverbial elephants in the room, er the SUV, that I felt claustrophobic, like I was slammed against the window between three trunks and a huge elephant’s ass, the air in the confined space evaporat ing into a vacuum.
"If I didn't think we had a chance in hell, I wouldn't be here," Knight answered rather crassly. I frowned, figuring I deserved that one because my question was a stupid one. Well, excuse the hell out of me for trying to break the incredibly awkward silence.
We were driving along a dirt road that led away from Compound One. We'd been driving for maybe twenty minutes before we hit another dirt road that led to the west of Compound One. After being on that seemingly endless stretch of nothing for another ten minutes, we hit a third dirt road, upon which we were now traveling.
"How do you even keep track of where you're going when there aren't any street names and everything looks the same?" I asked. Now, more than ever before, I was hell-bent on starting some sort of conversation that might prevent Knight from bringing up the "us" conversation again. In the last thirty minutes, he'd already attempted it twice.
"I've been doing this a long time," he answered tightly.
I was spared the need to respond when he suddenly stopped in the middle of the road, looking like he forgot something. He backed up maybe five feet and then stopped again, putting the Denali in park as he opened his door. A sudden and persistent beeping blared through the silence, telling us the door was left ajar. He ignored it and walked to the front of the SUV, the headlights bathing him in white light. Turning away from the lights, he held his arms out straight on either side of him, stretching them wide. Then he dropped his head back and closed his eyes. A split second later, he let his arms fall and turned around to face me, beckoning me forward with a wave of his hand. Although I found his display strange, I possessed neither the curiosity nor the energy required to investigate it. I just shrugged and unbuckled myself, jumping down from the Denali and walking toward him.
"Was that your best impression of Close Encounters of the Third Kind ?" I asked with an irreverent laugh once I caught up to him.
He offered me an unimpressed raised eyebrow.
"Scanner just below that tree," he replied while jerking his head to the right. I followed his gaze and noticed a pine tree in close proximity to us, along with about twenty others. Given his less than precise directions, it wasn't a big wonder that I couldn't locate the so-called scanner.
"Well, if Rand McNally needs new recruits, I'd advise you not to apply," I said in an irritated tone.
I got the same unimpressed expression, this time with the opposite eyebrow raised. I just smiled pleasantly and waited for him to explain exactly what in the hell he was talking about. But instead of an explanation, he grabbed my hand and pulled me forward, until I was standing beside him, in the middle of the headlights.
"Stand here and stretch out your arms like I just did," he said hurriedly.
"Why?"
Knight rolled his eyes and shook
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