Rebel, chapter 7
A Revolution fic Bass Monroe, Charlie Matheson. Miles Matheson. Charloe. Blackout AU.
Denver, Colorado, 2027. The blackout didn't happen in 2012 because the weapon failed, killing most of the Nanotech project team although the Matheson's escaped and continued their work. When Charlie found out what they were doing and tried to warn people, everything changed and she was a fugitive, running to the only person left who might be on her side, her Uncle Miles.
AN: Hi, thanks so much for reading and for coming back. Sorry for the delay in posting – life is pretty full on at the moment but I'm really enjoying writing this story and work on it as often as I can :D Thanks so much too for your kudos and comments, they are very much appreciated. Hope you enjoy this next bit. Cheers, Magpie
…
'It doesn't look good.' Bass crept back behind the big RV where Charlie, Jim and Pete were waiting and crouched, leaning back against a front tyre, frowning. 'The front doors are smashed in and I spotted a few bodies just inside. Couldn't see if they were in prison gear or not but I could hear shouting and some shots further on in.' His eyes narrowed, angry. 'There were kids crying in there, babies.'
Charlie looked up at him, kneeling up so she could see the Mall entrance. She couldn't see anything much but the thought of children crying, scared and in danger made her blood boil. 'Then we need to do something. Now.' She nodded back to where they'd left Pol, her sons and the wagons. 'Do you think they'll be ok if we leave them here while we go in?'
Pete was checking and loading guns, passing them to Jim who laid them carefully out ready on a piece of oilskin. He looked up, 'Pol said they were fine when I went to fetch these, they're gonna pull back off the road and stay out of sight until they hear from us, but I'll stay with 'em if you like.'
Jim shook his head, glancing at Bass and getting a nod of agreement. 'Sounds like we'll need you in there. Pol and her boys are well able to look after themselves.' He snapped to attention as he spotted a couple of lithe figures coming towards them, moving from cover to cover in a smooth, coordinated dance. 'The Murphy's are back.'
Pete huffed, relieved. 'About fucking time, thought something'd happened to them.'
Sigrid and Freya ran over the last bit of open ground between the vehicles and columns of the parking apron to join them, running crouched over, hoods up over the bright dreads of their hair.
Freya arrived first and tucked herself in next to Pete, flashing him a grin and panting just a little, her voice breathy as she turned to the others. 'We didn't see any prisoner types, but there're some fresh tracks in the woods the other side of the highway, looks like a biggish group, twenty maybe? Mostly men by the boot sizes.' She tipped her head towards the tree lined rise, 'But there are some tyre marks too and they look fresh.' She glanced at Bass, puzzled. 'How could that be?'
He shrugged, non-comital, not quite meeting her gaze.
Charlie's hand went to the pendant around her neck almost without her realizing it, but she didn't say anything, didn't know what to say. If she hadn't run away from the DoD maybe none of this would've happened, maybe she could've convinced her parents to do something to stop it, maybe she could've convinced somebody, somewhere to listen. A cold shiver ran down her spine at the thought of any part of the mess they were in being her fault and she stared down at the ground, her eyes bleak. Was it time to use the pendant? To tell people what was really going on? Or as much as she knew of what was going on anyway…
She chewed her bottom lip so hard it stung and the tang of blood made her swallow hard.
Twenty soldiers. What could their little militia possibly do against that many without some kind of help? Thumb drifting to the bottom edge of the silver shape, she felt for the tiny bump, the on button, then hesitated. Once done there'd be no going back, and what use would it be anyway? The pendant's range wasn't enough to do anything more than turn on a few street lights and power up her phone but even if it was enough to fire up the whole grid she didn't have anyone to call. Miles could be anywhere. If he was still alive. Her heart clenched, her fingers closing hard around the hard metal of the pendant. He couldn't be dead, she wouldn't believe it. He was too smart, too alive to die. And he'd believe her. He'd spoken to her dad. Fuck it, he and Bass were the only ones she knew would be on her side. Her friends back in Colorado thought she was crazy, even Danny had believed the DoD's lies about her and as for her mom and dad? They worked for the enemy.
Shit. Her thumb hovered over the button.
Bass' gaze flicked down to her, a frown creasing his brows.
Sigrid slid in next to her sister then glanced around the group and nodded, ice blue eyes hard. 'Something's going down, something big. There were signs of three, maybe four heavy vehicles. Troop transports maybe?' The eyes narrowed. 'Maybe it's the army, or the enemy, I mean the enemy could have power, couldn't they?' She frowned, her whole body tense, 'maybe it's a fucking invasion?'
'She could be right.' Pete's wide dark face was set, eyes angry, his hands tense on the gun he was holding. 'The bastards could've been planning this for months. First they knock out the power, then they come and knock us out while we're down.'
Jim stared out at the hills, his face like a stone. 'Yeah… they could be watching us now, waiting till we're inside.' His head swivelled round to the Mall, 'we could be walking into a trap.'
'Take it easy, folks.' Bass put a hand on Charlie's shoulder and squeezed, 'that's a hell of a lot of assumptions.'
She froze then looked up, catching his eyes, watching as they dropped to her hand on the pendant then back, seeing the warning in them, the tiny shake of his head. She held the blue gaze, casually letting her hand drop. He was right and so was Jim. The DoD could have people everywhere. Definitely not the time to let on that she had a source of power, or talk about the DoD either, because for all she knew any of these people could be with them, could be waiting for some sign that she had the pendant, that she knew how to use it.
The only person she could absolutely trust here was him. Bass. She nodded.
He smiled, just a little, just enough for her to see then swung around so he could face them all, his easy, confident charm and reasonable voice visibly notching down the tension. 'We don't know what's going on, not yet anyway.' He looked at each of them in turn, 'although I promise you we'll find out as soon as we can, but right now?' He pointed to the Mall, serious, 'right now there are people in trouble down there and I don't see any one else rushing to help them.' He picked up his back pack and slung it over his shoulder, standing up. 'So let's go sort out the bad guys and rescue the good guys so we can get the supplies we need for our friends and families and go home. Then we'll find out what's happening with the trucks and other shit. Ok?'
Jim stared at him for a moment, eyes dark, considering. Then he nodded, gathered his gear and stood up, glancing down at Pete and the two women next to him as he did. All three looked away, a little embarrassed. He frowned, staring them into looking back. 'He's right. First things first.' He looked down at the others. 'You coming?'
Sigrid looked mutinous for a moment, opened her mouth to say something then shut it again and nodded, glancing at her sister as she got to her feet.
Freya wrinkled her nose, her tattoo snarling. Then she stood up, lips set tight. 'Ok, but then we find out what the fuck's going on.' Her eyes swept round the others, 'because I've got a bad feeling about this shit.'
Pete stood too, his broad face fierce. 'Yeah, me too. Things are getting weird.' He tipped his head towards Pol and the wagons and beyond them the town. 'We need to get back home, make sure our own friends and families are safe.'
Bass looked at him, nodded. 'We'll be in and out before you know it.' Then he reached a hand down to Charlie.
She took it, swinging up to stand by his side, her eyes meeting and holding his in a mutual promise for later. They needed to talk, to work out a plan, and soon. Her hand stroked up his chest, fingers tracing the smooth, hard muscle, the strong heartbeat thudding against her palm. She put it all in her eyes… that she needed him, wanted him, wanted to feel him inside her again, wanted him to make her feel alive. She burned for him, her heart soaring when his blue gaze burned back at her, electric, his tongue dipping out over his lips sending shivers down to her toes.
He bent towards her, dropping a kiss on her lips that was soft and hard at the same time and so full of his unique energy and intensity that she shivered again, wanting more, glad that in the insanity that her world had become she had him at her back.
He stood back up, eyebrow quirked and a little smile playing around his lips, just for her. 'You ready?'
She glinted back, loving the challenge in that beautiful but totally and intensely male face. 'Always am.' Then she bent over and picked up two of the guns. It was a good thing she'd worn her high-tops rather than her boots, they were better for running and she had a feeling they might be doing a bit of that.
She glanced round at the others. 'Let's go.'
….
Miles marched into the porch and up to his front door. It was shut. Locked. No Bass. There were signs of life though, a basket of wood by the door, a pile of kindling next to it and two pairs of boots. He glanced at those, then frowned and took a second look, suspicious. The bigger pair, regular military issue, had to belong to Bass, they were his size with laces tied the way he liked them. But there was a smaller pair next to them, close enough to touch.
In fact the boots were leaning against the bigger pair, looking casual, at home, as though the owners were friends or even closer. Maybe Bass had a girlfriend staying? He chuckled. Trust his brother to find a girl to hang with even in the apocalypse.
Then he frowned and looked again because the smaller boots looked kind of familiar and when he bent down to have a closer look he knew he was right. They were. Damn. He'd had them hand made in Chicago as a present for Charlie's eighteenth birthday. The buckles were steel, custom tooled with the circle M for Matheson, the same as his and Bass' damn, stupid tattoos. She'd even sent him vids of her wearing them as a thank you and here they were being way too fucking friendly with Bass' size twelve steel-caps. His ears got hot and he felt the growl that started in his chest rumble up into his throat. Charlie was here. Had been here for who knows how fucking long. In his house. With his absolutely and completely unfucking trustworthy around anything female best friend. And why the fuck was she here anyway?
'Looks like no one's home so I hope you've got your keys cause I really need to use the bathroom.' Jeremy stepped up closer, noticed the boots and grinned. 'Hey look. That's so cute. It's like the three bears, only two of them. Maybe they've left some porridge inside?' His voice tailed off and his eyes narrowed when he saw the look on Miles' face. 'What is it? What's happened?'
Miles stood up, dropping his bag on the ground, face like thunder. 'He's not in the house but he's around here somewhere, and so's my niece.'
Jeremy shrugged, carefully, 'and I'm guessing that's not a good thing?'
Miles took a deep, harsh breath, let it out. 'Not sure yet.'
'Who are you and what do you want?' The woman's voice came from behind them, from out on the path. She sounded scared but determined.
'Sophie?' Miles turned around, then raised his hands when he saw the glint of sunshine on the rifle in her hands. Despite the tension in the voice, the gun was pointed right at his belly button and was very steady. 'Sophie it's me, Miles.' He bent down a little so she could see his face and pointed a finger at Jeremy without lowering his hands, 'and this is Jeremy, a friend of mine. He's ok.'
The gun lowered an inch, no more. 'Ok. Maybe. But both of you come out where I can see you.' Her voice was still tense, but not as much. 'Slowly, and keep your hands up. I don't want any trouble.'
Miles moved out of the shadow of the porch, ducking under the low roof and out into the light, 'neither do we.' He gestured for Jeremy to come out. 'See? We've just got here from back east, came halfway across the map on a fucking railway handcart.' He rolled his shoulders, wincing a little. 'Had to leave my car on the road out of Indianapolis.'
She stepped back, sympathetic now. 'Really? I'm sorry Miles, I know how much you love that car.' Then she looked them over, 'you do look pretty rough.' she shrugged, 'but I guess we're all looking pretty rough these days.'
Jeremy took a step forward, his one hand still held up. He smiled, gently flirting, 'don't know about that, ma'am, you look pretty fine to me.'
She lifted an eyebrow, 'well aren't you just the charming one.' Then she noticed his missing arm and the badges on his kit bag and her eyes softened. She lowered the gun. 'You been out long?'
He shook his head, 'no Ma'am, I was heading up this way to find my family and bumped into this guy shortly after the blackout.' He tipped his head towards Miles, 'he looked like he needed a hand so I let him tag along.'
Miles snorted, 'don't listen to him, Sophie, it was totally the other way around.'
The other man smirked. 'Come on. You'd still be walking if it wasn't for me.'
Miles rolled his eyes, 'No. I wouldn't. I had a plan remember?' Ignoring Jeremy's snort, he turned to Sophie. 'Where is everyone?' He looked around, noting the half dozen other assorted people standing a little way away, all armed, all facing them, 'and is this how you welcome folks back home these days?'
Her face hardened a little, eyes sad, 'things have changed, Miles.' She turned and waved at the others to lower their weapons then turned back, worry lines creasing the smooth brown skin of her brow, her generous mouth tight. She brushed a sweat dark lock of hair away from her eyes with the back of her hand, her face tired and anxious. 'Jim went with Bass and Charlie and a few others to get some supplies from the Mall. They're overdue, should've been back by now. I was just heading down town to ask for some of the militia guys to help me go look for them when I spotted you two hanging round the house.'
Miles stared at her for a moment. 'I'll go with you.' Then he turned to Jeremy, reached into a pocket in his jeans and tossed him a set of keys. 'Thanks, Jer. For everything. There should be some whisky inside if Bass hasn't drunk it all, so make yourself at home then go find your family.'
Jeremy caught the keys and tossed them back, 'I'll come too. Don't have any family, not now anyway. I made 'em up,' He shrugged, 'didn't want to sound pathetic.'
Miles caught the bunch in one hand, shaking his head, an eyebrow lifting. 'You've only got one arm, Baker. You don't have to do or say anything else to be pathetic.'
Sophie stared at him, shocked, 'Miles Matheson. How could you say that?'
Miles glanced at her, totally unapologetic, 'sorry, Sophie, but if you'd spent as much time listening to this guy sing fucking Ramble on as I have…' He grinned, then turned back to Jeremy. 'Ok, if you've got nothing better to do the railway'll take us right to the Mall siding and it'll be quicker than the road. You figure you've got enough juice left in that arm to do another few miles?'
The other man shouldered his bag, 'I'm betting I've got more juice left in my one arm than you've got in both of yours, Matheson.' He winked at Sophie, 'never met a grunt who complained more about every little thing, almost made me wish I was deaf as well as missing an arm.'
Miles huffed, settled his own bag over his shoulder then turned to Sophie. 'Ok, me and the one armed bandit here'll go on ahead, see what we can find out.' His lips tightened, 'you send a few of your folks on after us by road though. Just in case they have run into trouble, ok?'
She nodded, looking from Miles to Jeremy then back, more than a little bemused. 'I'll do that, they'll be riding bikes so they won't be too far behind you.' She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. 'I'm glad to see you, Miles, glad you're ok. And thanks for helping out.' Her face softened, 'Jim can take care of himself, but things are getting bad everywhere and I can't even call him.' She pulled a phone out of her pocket, 'I carry this around just in case though, just like everyone else.' She put it back, 'I didn't know how much I'd miss being able to talk to people, see people, whenever I wanted, and I'm really worried about him, Miles. About Bass too. He's done a great job around here of helping people get through all of this. He and Charlie are real heroes.'
Miles felt his jaw drop a little, trying to take that in. It sounded as though his playboy, hard drinking, narcissistic but always the one he could rely on in a fight best friend had turned into Captain America. And Charlie a hero? She'd always been a good kid, but a hero? Then he straightened up. Charlie was out there, maybe in trouble, maybe Bass was in trouble too. Or maybe he was the trouble? Shit. He turned and started walking, calling back over his shoulder. 'Don't worry, Sophie. We'll find 'em.'
Jeremy followed, nodding to her as he left, 'hope to see you soon, ma'am.'
….
The Mall entrance automatic doors were smashed, heavy shards of glass lying everywhere.
Bass was hugged against the concrete wall leading up to the doors, peering round into the wide concourse leading to the first bank of escalators. Some of the shop windows were broken too and the floor was littered with bits of furniture and goods from the stores. He lifted a hand and gave the signal for the others to move forward.
Charlie was first, of course, her shoulder bumping his arm as she hurled herself in next to him, hair flying, her eyes meeting his all wide, blue and gorgeous and full of so much of her particular brand of intensity and courage that a frisson of electricity sent blood surging from his brain to his dick. He firmly told it to settle down, then held her eyes and tipped his head in the direction of the broken doors. 'They've left one man on guard outside Dunkin' donuts.'
Her lips were full and very tempting as she licked them, 'I wonder if there're any left… I love Dunkin' donuts.'
His eyes dropped to her mouth then back up to hers, their meeting heated, intense and full of promises. 'Me too, but if there were any he's finished them and he's moved onto popcorn.'
She shrugged, 'they were probably stale anyway.' Her belly rumbled though, disappointed and she reached into her bag for one of the chocolate bars she'd brought for snacks, chewing off half and passing the rest over to Bass.
He took it with a totally wicked smile, chewing with relish and strong white teeth. Then they both got back to business.
The big, massively muscled and heavily inked ex-prisoner in filthy prison orange overalls draped with a bright pink scarf was about thirty feet away, sitting back on one of the couches set up as rest spots in the centre of the wide shop lined avenue leading into the Mall proper. His bald head and heavy beard shiny with sweat, dirt and other things. Grabbing handfuls of popcorn from a bag on the low table in front of him and shovelling them into his mouth, he thumbed the pages of one of a pile of magazines scattered over the table, taking an occasional swig from a quart bottle of whisky.
Sigrid and Freya slid in next to Charlie followed by Pete and Jim, all of them loaded for bear.
Bass turned, eyes resting on the sisters. 'Ladies?' He tipped his head towards the guard. 'Looks like we've got a wallflower. You feel like dancing?'
Freya grinned, looking as feral as her wolf, 'thought you'd never ask.' She glanced at Sigrid, an eyebrow lifting.
Her sister nodded, dropping her pack onto the concrete and moving forward. She took one side of the entrance and Freya took the other, keeping to the edges and out of sight as much as possible, their movements fluid, graceful from one cover to the next, getting closer to the man on the couch with every step.
Charlie was watching the prisoner, he seemed to be oblivious, bending closer to his magazine and absently rubbing his crotch. She could hear crying from somewhere far inside the Mall, a young child by the sound, but the man didn't react to that either. Then she jumped as a figure darted out from behind a stack of shopping trolleys, and another from behind an advertising poster on the other side of the concourse, her mouth dropping open as Sigrid went in from behind, one arm going round the man's throat pulling in tight, the heel of her other hand coming down like a hammer on his temple while Freya flew in from the front, a knee going into the man's groin and her elbow landing on his solar plexus with her entire weight behind it.
Without a word, he collapsed back on the couch the breath rushed out of his mouth in a cartoon ooff… and what sounded like more than a fart escaped the other end.
After she'd tied his hands and feet and gagged him with his belt and the scarf, Freya stood up, a hand waving in front of her face and her nose screwed up in disgust.
Charlie stifled a grin, then got serious as Bass waved them inside, following him as he ran down the long, echoing concourse, aware of Pete and Jim flanking her, of the Murphy's joining them as they ran down the tiled floor of the eerily empty, shadowed and rubbish strewn concourse, through dusty beams of sunlight cast through giant skylights in the ceiling several stories high above them towards the sounds of shouts and crying. Her gaze swept up the frozen steps of escalator zig-zags to the as yet un-touched by looters boutiques and beauty shops on the mezzanine floors rising above them and felt a pang of loss, because even with the limited displays due to a world at war, they were a reminder of times of plenty, of freedom and small, sweet pleasures. Her eyes pricked with sudden, useless tears and she sucked in a breath, wiped them away and kept running.
As they got closer to the food stores the piercing cries were joined by other voices, some demanding and harsh, others defensive and as they turned a corner into the food court Bass held up a hand, signalling for them to take cover.
Charlie followed him down behind a carousel displaying banks of sunglasses, phone cases and other things, aware of the others ducking behind the decorated columns and empty shelves of a bakery frontage, part of her mind remembering that the blackout hit at night before baking started and only the 24 hour supermarket night staff, a few customers and security would've been around. Until the people stranded on the highway arrived of course, and the escaped prisoners.
Up ahead, the security mesh screens were partly closed across the wide entrance to the store and a barricade of shopping trolleys had been placed in a tall, haphazard pile across the narrow open strip, blocking it to the height of a tall man. Behind those were stacked cardboard boxes, placards and crates and behind those were several shadowy figures. A dog was barking from behind the pile, the sound defiant, and from a long way back came the sound of several young voices, fear making them shrill. The sound of a baby crying rose high above everything else, piercing the air.
Charlie felt her stomach tense up at the sound, a visceral, instinctive need to comfort, to stop the crying setting her on edge, making her want to do something, anything…
Gathered into semi-circle in front of the barrier were a group of hard, rough looking people, mostly men but a couple of women in prison orange and assorted other clothing, throwing missiles over the top, brandishing knives, guns and yelling obscenities and threats.
Charlie felt her stomach clench and anger like a tide rise into her throat. On this side of the barrier a few yards away, lying tumbled and still, she could see the bodies of an older woman, a boy, no older than Danny and a thin, bald, legless man lying next to a toppled wheelchair. She swallowed back horror and the urge to run out, to challenge the attackers but stopped herself. She'd seen plenty of bad things, she needed to be calm, to think, they needed to win this without anyone else dying.
She glanced up at Bass.
He was rigid with concentration, his eyes hard. 'I count nine of them out there.'
'There were twelve got out of the bus I think.' She whispered back.
He nodded, 'yeah, so counting our guy at the front door, there're two missing.' He glanced around, 'they've either cut and run or they're here somewhere, maybe trying to find a back way in.'
She nodded, 'nine of them here, six of us.'
He glanced back at her, dipped his eyes to the gun in her hand and handed her the pistol from his belt along with an extra clip. 'Five. Stay here, cover us and keep an eye out for the other two.'
She scowled, angry. 'Why me?'
He loomed over her, tall, imposing, in total soldier mode, his eyes an intense, piercing blue, full of something she couldn't quite name but that sent a thrill down her spine even through her anger. 'Charlie, the rest of us have hand to hand training and experience, you don't. I can't look out for you and fight at the same time, you'd slow me down.' He lifted a hand, signalling the others to move out then leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to her lips. 'Stay here. Cover us.' Then he was gone, followed by Pete, Jim and the Murphy twins.
Pete swept past her and nodded, looking relieved when he saw her staying put. So did Jim.
She didn't give them the satisfaction of showing them how frustrated she was.
Freya winked at her as she ghosted past, looking badass tough, slightly amused and annoyingly beautiful.
Sigrid glanced her way as she followed her twin, sympathy as well as a kind of challenge in her pale blue eyes.
Shit. Furious, her lips set in a tight line although she couldn't help running her tongue over them, tasting him, Charlie lifted the gun and got ready to do her job. She understood, she really did, but that didn't mean she liked it or that things were going to stay the way they were. Bass was going to start training her as soon as they got back, hell, she might even ask Sigrid and Freya too.
…
'What do you mean, they're all still alive.' Flynn was angry, his eyes cold.
Strausser shrugged, 'the survivors in the mall are better organised than we thought, sir.'
He didn't sound perturbed, was almost admiring. 'One of the women has taken charge, got the rest into a defensive position in the supermarket. They lost a couple of stragglers but they're currently holding our ex-prisoners at bay behind the security grille and a pile of shopping trollies. Apparently knows something about explosives too.' His cold eyes gleamed, 'she used a home-made grenade to kill two of the prisoners while she was getting her group set up in the shop.'
Flynn looked impatient, 'so? They're still just a gaggle of civilians, what's taking so long?'
Strausser stiffened, 'I told you sir, they're holding their own. Monroe has some good fighters in his group too and he and the others are about to engage with our remaining band of escapees.' His lips twisted in a sneer, 'I'd say the chances are good that he's going to win unless we intervene.'
Irritation made Flynn's eyes pinched, his lips tight. He stood there for a moment then, 'how many prisoners uniforms can you retrieve from the bus?'
The other man sniffed, 'I arranged for retrieval as soon as the girl and the others left the scene sir, so as well as the two from the Mall, we have six from the bus as well as another from the idiot they left on watch at the doors.'
Flynn nodded. 'Good, then we'll stick to the plan. I want word to get out that we're the good guys when we step in and save whoever's left.' He smiled a little, although it didn't reach his eyes. 'Send in nine men. Monroe won't know what hit him.'
…..
Climbing down off the hand cart onto the platform, Miles rolled his shoulders, looking around at the deserted station, noting the shadowy bulk of warehouses on one side of the lines and the towering sprawl of the shopping mall beyond it. 'This place is a motherlode, I'm kind of surprised there aren't people everywhere gathering supplies.'
Jeremy nodded, rubbing the back of his neck with his one hand, the strain of continued exertion showing a little in his face, although he didn't complain. 'It's still early days yet, folks'll be hanging back being good little citizens and waiting for things to get back to normal.' He stretched, jaw cracking, then reached up for his bag, 'if the blackout keeps going a few more days they'll be on this place like a rash.'
Miles grabbed his pack and headed on up to the turnstiles at the exit. They were locked in place. He threw his pack over the barrier, vaulted the turnstile and glanced back at the other man with lips twitching and a gleam in his eyes. 'Always wanted to do that.'
Jeremy rolled his eyes, strolled up to the guards gate, unhooked the chain and walked through. 'Little things…'
'What?' Miles threw him a look then froze, his eyes focusing on something up ahead. He held a hand up, signalling for quiet and for Jeremy to take cover.
Jeremy flattened himself against the curving brick wall leading out to the road, every muscle tense, alert.
Miles slid in beside him, his voice a harsh whisper. 'Sophie said that Bass came with Pol and three wagons along the road from town. That's on the other side of the Mall from here.' His eyes narrowed as he tipped his head towards the group of uniformed men standing in the cover of a loading dock, some busy changing into what looked like orange jumpsuits. 'I haven't seen any sign of troop movements since Indianapolis,' he glanced at Jeremy, 'have you?'
Jeremy shook his head, his eyes scanning, assessing the situation. 'No.'
Miles frowned. 'So who the fuck are they, and why are they here now?'
…
AN: Hi there, and thanks again for reading J I thought I'd better stop before this chapter grew any more, lol but I wanted to get everyone to their places for the next scene so hope you didn't mind too much. Next one's on its way, hope to see you there, cheers, Magpie.
