Guardian Angel

Chapter 20

After arriving in a borrowed pickup truck, Castle gazes around the Survival Barn as if he'd just stumbled into Disneyland. "Kate, this place is amazing! With stuff from here, we could survive anything."

"How long do you think we should prepare for?" Kate wonders loudly. "I mean, the dust cloud from an asteroid hit might keep anything from growing for years. And it will kill the animals, too. You wouldn't be able to hunt."

"You're so right," an approaching salesman declares. "You'll need supplies for five years, minimum. But we'll be happy to help you out. Lawrence Chaney," he announces, extending his hand, "but folks call me 'Chain,' because I help them hold the line."

"We could use help with that," Castle declares. "We just bought a house from the fifties that still has a fallout shelter, but the former owners were libtards. They turned it into a recording studio. I don't know who they thought they'd record for when the impact comes, but they got rid of anything that could keep a person alive. We put beds and shelves down there. There's water from a deep well and geothermal power, but we need everything else."

Chain nods enthusiastically. "Sounds like you have the start of a great setup, and we can help with whatever you want to finish it up. Let's start with food. Will you be cooking, or do you need meals ready to eat?"

Kate rocks back on the heels of her hiking boots, jamming her thumbs into her waistband. "Oh, I can cook. My mama always told me the way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

Castle grins, patting his abdomen. "She's right about that. This lady can cook up a storm."

Chain claps Castle on the shoulder. "That's great, Mr.…"

"Rick," Castle fills in, "and my woman here is Kate."

"Rick, Kate, we'll start with the staples and basic equipment then, and by the time we're finished, you be able to live through anything."


Kate arches questioning eyebrows at Castle as Chain totes up their purchases, taking care the salesman notices. "Was there something else you were looking for?" Chain inquires, as Castle pulls out a wad of cash.

"Go on, tell him, Rick, " Kate urges.

"Um," Castle hesitates.

Kate leans over the counter. "I think the people next door are from 'there,'" she whispers huskily. "And they're spying on us. I need to find out what they know, without them finding out I'm suspicious."

"Kate saw a video about how mercenaries bug their targets before attacking," Castle picks up.

"Right," Kate agrees enthusiastically. " They use tiny little thingies the enemy can hardly see but pick up everything they say. Do you have anything like that?"

Chain strokes his clean-shaven jaw. "We are associated with former mercenaries who teach classes for our customers about assessing threats and living off the land — that kind of thing. We stock items like that for them. I can sell you one, but you'll need instruction on how to use it."

Kate fist pumps the air. "I'd love to take a class like that."

"How do we sign up?" Castle inquires.

"We have a session starting tomorrow. You can register now. I'll have our guys load up your order, and we'll see you bright and early."

"Can't wait!" Kate exclaims.


"Castle, what are you going to do with all this stuff?" Kate asks, climbing into the passenger seat of the pickup.

"I have a room at a storage facility where I keep my collections: comic books, action figures, alien weapons, years worth. We can stash it there until I line up a homeless shelter or food pantry that can use it. The guy who runs the place loaned me the truck and has dollies and stuff so we can stow most of this load. Then we'll probably need to get more clothes for tomorrow's adventure. I wasn't anticipating long-term cosplay."

"Neither was I," Kate admits, "but we could be meeting up with someone who knows Mom's killer."

"Or we could be meeting up with the bastard himself," Castle points out.

Kate shakes her head. "I don't think so, Castle. Why would someone who makes the kind of money a hitman does want to waste his time with a bunch of would-be Bear Grylises?"

"For a laugh?" Castle offers. "But you're probably right, Kate. He'd be blowing hours he could use for a lucrative contract. Still, I'm glad you'll have your gun. I may bring along some defensive weapons from my zombie apocalypse kit too."

"Castle, aren't you supposed to shoot zombies in the head?"

"Uh-huh, but the hordes of scavenging humans can be just as big a threat."

"Just don't have Nikki Heat fighting any."

"I write mysteries and spy stories. Zombies are a different genre — although there are always crossovers," Rick muses.

"Castle, please."

"All right, Kate. I give you my word, Nikki Heat will never meet up with a zombie. How do you feel about vampires?"

"If Nikki puts enough garlic in her meat sauce, they won't be a problem."

"Good point," Castle acknowledges.


"Back, safe and sound," Castle declares, shutting the door of Kate's suite behind them and securing the privacy latch, "at least until tomorrow morning. I don't know about you, but I'm starved. After buying and hauling all that food and doing our other shopping, we were too busy to eat anything."

"You're right," Kate agrees. "And did you see those sandwiches they were serving in the cocktail lounge off the lobby when we came in? They looked incredible."

Castle can feel his mouth water at the mention of the outsized clubs. "We can have a couple sent up. Extra pickles?"

"Always."


Kate gazes contently at her empty plate, stretching her legs out in front of her, and closing her eyes. "That was great, just what I needed."

"Is that all you needed, Kate?" Rick murmurs, reaching for her hand. "Was last night just in the 'Heat,' so to speak, of the moment?"

Emerald shards appear as Kate reopens her eyes. She leans toward Castle. "No, it wasn't. We both know it wasn't. We're getting closer to my mom's killer, and neither one of us can afford to be distracted by anything. But when we get through this, we'll have time to figure out where whatever this thing is between you and me is going."

Rick pushes out his chair, throwing his napkin on the room service tray. "I intend to hold you to that, Kate. I'm going home. I'll meet you here in the morning, very early in the morning. Didn't Chain say the class starts at sunrise?"

"Yeah, he did, Castle. Hey," Kate calls after him, "don't forget your zombie apocalypse stuff."

Rick heads for the door. "I'm not about to forget anything."

"What was that?" Johanna demands as Kate begins to pace the suite. "You two could have had an evening together, and you practically kicked him out."

Kate shoves her chair against the table. "Mom, I was telling the truth. We can't afford the distraction. What if tomorrow, I'm reliving some moment with Rick instead of paying attention, even for a split second. I could miss something that would point me toward your killer or worse put Castle or me into the line of fire. I have to stay focused, and I can't do that if I fall into Castle's arms or into bed with him. But I meant what I told him. We'll have time."

That's what everyone thinks, Kate," Johanna warns. "It doesn't always work out that way."