Baker's Crossing by Dan DeKoning

Author:Dan DeKoning
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Post-apocalyptic, dystopian, soulmate, America, cross country, romance
Publisher: Dan DeKoning
Published: 2024-07-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

When I returned to my truck, still ironically parked next to the police station, I opened the back door and sat on the tailgate. I stripped off the jacket and the long-sleeved camouflage shirt that Flagman had given me and tossed them without regard into the truck. The jacket, I’d noticed, appeared crusted with blood, and it would stay that way until I found a river to soak it in. I wouldn’t put it on again in its current condition. Next, I kicked off the black leather boots and tossed those in. I doubted I’d wear those again. They were a half-size too small, and my feet ached from the few brief hours I’d had them on. Lastly, I removed the camo pants and threw them onto the growing pile inside. The pants I liked since they had a good number of pockets and seemed comfortable enough, but like the jacket, they needed a good wash since I had gotten mud and blood on them.

I sat on the tailgate in my underwear and opened the half-liter bottle of water Jasmine had given me before I left and had a long drink. Once again, I got the urge to get back on the road, but I needed a little recovery time. I needed to collect my thoughts, get a hold of my feelings, and since my pulse hadn’t stopped racing since the night before, I needed to calm down before I rushed headfirst into a situation I couldn’t get out of.

As I drank, I looked down at my legs. I had a deep tan on my legs from where the bottom of my favorite shorts normally ended to where the top of my socks sat. On my right thigh, I spotted a tick. It wasn’t moving, so I assumed it had attached. It relieved me to realize it hadn’t engorged itself yet, so it couldn’t have bitten me too long ago. From behind, I grabbed it as close to the skin as I dared and gently pulled until it released. The trick was to apply enough pressure to get it to let go without either leaving the tick head embedded, or even worse, having the tick get irritated enough to regurgitate into the wound. Lucky for me, the tick let go easily, and then I had to decide what to do with it. I always thought fire, acid, or lava were good ways to dispose of a tick, but since I had none of those readily available, I flicked it into the road and hoped a bird or opossum would wander by and make a snack of it.

The tick brought Jenny to mind. Jenny was one of those people who walked into my life by luck and circumstance and stayed there. If used car salesmen were the dregs of society, Jenny was the pinnacle. She was wicked smart, funny, compassionate. It’s like nature took all the best qualities that a person had and combined them into one woman. Jenny’s bright blue eyes never failed to sparkle, and she was a beacon of positivity and hope.

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