 He glanced sideways at the kid next to him as he guided his Jeep through the mostly empty streets. It would be pitch dark soon, he didn’t want to be out in it if he didn’t need to be. “What do you do? Your job?” “Physicist.” The kid paused, bit his lower lip, and ducked his head, turning it enough Daniel got a look at large, dark eyes and a hint of those dimples he’d seen earlier. Not that Daniel had paid attention to the dimples or to the fact Kyle’s smile was what he could only describe as sweet. “Student actually, physics student.” Kyle spent most of the ride telling him how he’d been arrested, the van had crashed, and he’d escaped. Daniel decided he was one lucky kid. Kyle had lived because of sheer dumb luck, nothing else. He’d worked in one of the larger research facilities, probably the one closer to Saint Louis judging by the time he’d spent being transported between arrest and arriving along the southern shore of Lake Erie. When they pulled to the main gate of the barracks, Daniel heard a soft gasp from the seat beside him. “This where you’re taking me? Don’t they kill people?” Not looking at Kyle, Daniel chuckled and swung around to the back seat, pulling his pack from where he’d dumped it earlier. “Only the people who call me Danny.” He turned and sat straight again, looking at Kyle. The kid was white, a thin sheen of sweat covered his upper lip, and he was trembling. Daniel sighed. Apparently this poor guy believed all the hype about the Militia their government spread so liberally. Then, again, if he never had anyone to tell him otherwise, why wouldn’t he? Daniel realized if he didn’t say something, he’d be chasing this kid down again. He was tired, it was getting late, and running down lost kids once a day was plenty. “Have people died on missions? I won’t lie to you, yes they have. Are we a feral pack of assassins? No. What we do do is try to prevent more damage than has already been done and get supplies to people who can work on a cure without interference from the government.” Daniel gave Kyle a smirk. “Sometimes we steal those things, and occasionally someone gets beat up.” He was glad some of the color returned to Kyle’s face. Reaching out, he put his hand on the side of the kid’s neck. “No one here is going to hurt you. You have my word on that.” Strays is available in eBook and through Kobo Plus     Comments are closed.
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