Page 20
Story: Over the Top
“Dude. You have to get a life.”
They reached the car, and Gunner tore open the cardboard box with the car seat in it.
Chas said drolly, “Because I know you pride yourself on being a lone wolf, I’m gonna let you figure that out and install it while I load everything else in the trunk and put a diaper on Poppy.”
He laid the toddler down in the front seat and dressed her from the skin out in a proper diaper, new outfit, and a cute pair of tiny running shoes. By the time he put her arms into the windbreaker he’d bought for warmish fall days like today, Gunner was swearing freely in the back seat.
“How’s parenthood going back there?” Chas called.
“Don’t. Even.”
“Need some help?”
“No. I need decent instructions in actual English.”
“I’ll just go put the cart in the cart corral. C’mon, Poppy. Let’s let Daddy Number Two have a little tantrum in private while he defeats the big, bad car seat.”
“IfI figure this out. And I’m totally Daddy Number One,” Gunner called after him.
Chas let his laughter float back over his shoulder toward Gunner. By the time he and Poppy returned to the car, however, Gunner stood triumphantly beside it and gestured with a flourish for Chas to put Poppy into the seat, which was duly installed and secured.
“Congratulations. I guess you can be Daddy Number One… for now.” Chas passed Poppy a plastic toy that was inset with colorful rubber pieces that popped back and forth with a smacking sound. She went to town on it in the back seat as they pulled out of the parking lot.
Chas noticed Gunner spending a lot of time watching his rearview mirror, and he asked in alarm, “We’re not being followed, are we?”
“Not that I can see. But I’m playing this cautious, not letting my guard down because we’re on American soil and appear to be in the clear. I’d like to put some more miles between us and Misty Falls, to be honest.”
“Why did you freak out back there when I tried to use my credit card?”
“Credit cards are trackable. If our bad guys have connections to even a semi decent hacker, we can be tracked through your credit cards.”
“What about yours? You used one last night to pay for the motel room.”
“I have sanitized cards in fake names.”
“Fake names? Seriously?”
“Sometimes SEALs have to live off the local economy, but we can’t afford to leave trails.”
“Nice.”
Gunner pointed the car south but turned onto a winding two-lane road instead of the major highway only a few miles away.
“Umm, I hate to be a buzzkill, but I have to teach school on Monday. I can’t exactly go on a road trip with you for grins and giggles.”
“What if the shooters are hanging around Misty Falls, waiting for you to show back up with the kid?”
Chas stared at Gunner in dismay. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Go on a road trip with me for grins and giggles until we figure out who the shooters are and what they want. And then we eliminate them.”
“Eliminate, as in kill them?” he squeaked.
Gunner shrugged. “Whatever works.”
“What about my job?”
“Call in sick. Tell them you’re suffering post-traumatic stress after your house got shot up and your neighbor died on your porch. You might want to ask your boss to call the police and let them know you’ll be back in town in a few days and will make an official statement to them then.”
They reached the car, and Gunner tore open the cardboard box with the car seat in it.
Chas said drolly, “Because I know you pride yourself on being a lone wolf, I’m gonna let you figure that out and install it while I load everything else in the trunk and put a diaper on Poppy.”
He laid the toddler down in the front seat and dressed her from the skin out in a proper diaper, new outfit, and a cute pair of tiny running shoes. By the time he put her arms into the windbreaker he’d bought for warmish fall days like today, Gunner was swearing freely in the back seat.
“How’s parenthood going back there?” Chas called.
“Don’t. Even.”
“Need some help?”
“No. I need decent instructions in actual English.”
“I’ll just go put the cart in the cart corral. C’mon, Poppy. Let’s let Daddy Number Two have a little tantrum in private while he defeats the big, bad car seat.”
“IfI figure this out. And I’m totally Daddy Number One,” Gunner called after him.
Chas let his laughter float back over his shoulder toward Gunner. By the time he and Poppy returned to the car, however, Gunner stood triumphantly beside it and gestured with a flourish for Chas to put Poppy into the seat, which was duly installed and secured.
“Congratulations. I guess you can be Daddy Number One… for now.” Chas passed Poppy a plastic toy that was inset with colorful rubber pieces that popped back and forth with a smacking sound. She went to town on it in the back seat as they pulled out of the parking lot.
Chas noticed Gunner spending a lot of time watching his rearview mirror, and he asked in alarm, “We’re not being followed, are we?”
“Not that I can see. But I’m playing this cautious, not letting my guard down because we’re on American soil and appear to be in the clear. I’d like to put some more miles between us and Misty Falls, to be honest.”
“Why did you freak out back there when I tried to use my credit card?”
“Credit cards are trackable. If our bad guys have connections to even a semi decent hacker, we can be tracked through your credit cards.”
“What about yours? You used one last night to pay for the motel room.”
“I have sanitized cards in fake names.”
“Fake names? Seriously?”
“Sometimes SEALs have to live off the local economy, but we can’t afford to leave trails.”
“Nice.”
Gunner pointed the car south but turned onto a winding two-lane road instead of the major highway only a few miles away.
“Umm, I hate to be a buzzkill, but I have to teach school on Monday. I can’t exactly go on a road trip with you for grins and giggles.”
“What if the shooters are hanging around Misty Falls, waiting for you to show back up with the kid?”
Chas stared at Gunner in dismay. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Go on a road trip with me for grins and giggles until we figure out who the shooters are and what they want. And then we eliminate them.”
“Eliminate, as in kill them?” he squeaked.
Gunner shrugged. “Whatever works.”
“What about my job?”
“Call in sick. Tell them you’re suffering post-traumatic stress after your house got shot up and your neighbor died on your porch. You might want to ask your boss to call the police and let them know you’ll be back in town in a few days and will make an official statement to them then.”
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