Without Guilt

Chapter XXI: Choose Wisely

"Otis!" Tess called, jogging to catch up with the man as she pushed the casino door open.

Morning had come, dispelling the storm that had raged on through the night as though it had never been. A vast blue sky stretched overhead, the view clear for miles and not a cloud in sight. The bright daylight made the blankets of snow glitter, bouncing off what few windows survived along the street.

Otis paused, squinting against the brightness as he turned to look at her. The cold drew misting breaths from him, his gloved hands being tucked into his jacket pockets as he waited for her.

Kumi cast him an inquisitive glance, rubbing his hands together to warm them.

They had been planning to leave before the sun came up, an unspoken rule between smugglers not to be tracked, but the weather had made it impossible.

"Hey," The woman touched his arm gently as she reached them. "We got a lot of stuff on our last haul, not quite everyday supplies for Boston so we were looking at getting them traded." She admitted, motioning vaguely towards the heavy crate Joel was lugging out of the casino.

Otis briefly glanced towards it before looking to her again. "Cutting Bill?" He questioned; his voice quiet enough to nearly be drowned out by a crow crying up high in the trees.

"No, God no." Tess laughed. "Some of it is stuff Bill asked for."

"So?" He tucked his chin into his scarf not exactly enjoying standing idle when it was freezing.

"So, if you're willing to trade, we've got some stuff you won't find around Pittsburgh." She outlined.

Kumi shifted in a display of impatience. "We don't got time for this, T." He lightly nudged his partner as he turned to continue walking. He was impatient to get back to Dominique and they still had to find much more supplies to meet the camp's demand.

Otis seemed to half agree with him, taking a step back slowly while shaking his head. "I don't… do that anymore."

Joel lowered the crate with a haphazard drop that was cushioned by the snow. "We've got mechanic parts, firearms, that kind of stuff." He listed, receiving a satisfied smile from Tess for his back up.

Otis briefly looked towards Kumi's retreating form before eyeing them again. "Show me." He gave a light nod in the direction of the crate.

"Alright." Joel sighed, squatting down to crack the crate open.

"It's all pretty solid stuff. Won't cost ya much either." Tess added, watching as the two men sifted through the items in the box. Some of it looked worn, but Otis had no interest in correcting Tess on that matter.

Bill made a list and Tess and Joel supplied it. It was a simple enough procedure.

The mechanic tools though were of more interest to him. There were quite a few things around the camp that needed fixing or tuning – including the Humvee they'd ceased when they'd driven the military out of Pittsburgh. He could fix it, but it would likely need some other parts – diodes or a new alternator.

He retrieved his note pad to quickly scrawl something down before handing it to Tess.

"I don't really know what half this stuff is, but I can ask Bill." She hummed as she read through the list. "It'll cost ya extra." She added.

Otis straightened up. "How much?" He questioned, crossing his arms as he watched her toe the snow with her boots.

"Not much use for parts in Boston. We need something with a little more substance." Joel indicated.

"Supplies?" Otis tipped his head inquisitively. Those weren't exactly plentiful to spare in Pittsburgh, though he was sure they could do more with working weapons. It would put hunting back on the menu – animals and people alike. Raiding convoys was possible with enough gun and manpower.

"Supplies, ration cards, supplements. You know… the usual good stuff you used to bring us before." Tess listed. "We can take a down payment of what you got for the tools." She offered. "Then work through that list when you have more to trade."

"Yeah… I don't think so." Otis scoffed, shaking his head.

"Come on, Meyer, when have I ever cheated you?" She interrupted his attempt to leave. "A weeks' worth of supplies is not a lot to ask for this stuff. You clearly got somewhere to go back to, we can set a meeting place and do the drop-off like we did before." She proposed.

"Can't spare it." Otis declined again though he did seem to be considering something. He took back to writing what he wanted to say to save his recovering throat.

Tess and Joel exchanged silent looks, probably sensing that the negotiation wasn't yet over but neither spoke to avoid driving things in the wrong direction.

Tess took this next note, studying Otis as she collected it.

'sAfEhousE up AhEAD.

soME stock. Get bAttEry.

trADE.'

"You want a car battery?" She questioned in slight wariness before glancing around the street. "It's a long way to Lincoln. You think you can wait? Bill might not even have one." She pointed out.

"That's my deal." Otis could overlook trying to fix the battery already in the Humvee if he just got a new one. There was too much that could be wrong with it to get a load of other parts. And a battery could be used for other vehicles in case the Humvee plan didn't work.

"Well… I'll take ration cards and any pills you got, then we can see about that battery." Tess decided. As far as she was aware, he was settling for less. They would walk to Lincoln with full backpacks, the stuff for Bill and a lighter crate.

Whatever Otis needed that battery for must either be desperate, or the man had just gotten soft. Or he trusted that Tess would actually show up with one.

Either way, she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

:/ 1 ½ Weeks Later.

:/ Hunters' Camp, Pittsburgh Quarantine Zone.

"How much longer do you think they'll take?" Mason stressed as he scrubbed the soapy cloth against the washboard with vigour.

"I don't know. You've asked me that every day since they left, Mason." Scarlett replied, stirring the barrel full of clothes with the big stirring oar. The heat rising from the barrel sitting over the fire had turned her face red and made her hair curl from the humidity. "Most groups take about two weeks to come back." She reminded him.

"Sorry, Scar. Just this whole thing… the anxiety is killing me." He exhaled, his knuckles raw and joints painful from the arduous task. "What if I dreamt the whole thing up and he's actually still mad at me?"

Scarlett rolled her eyes. "Is Meyer all you ever think about?" She asked in a half whisper as she cast a cautious glance towards the other Hunters in the laundry facility.

Most of them were too occupied with trying to get the washing done, steam rising from other barrels, clothes being soaked, scrubbed, hung on the washing lines, dry ones being folded and returned to their correct boxes and bags to be collected.

"Well, no." Mason claimed, a little offended that she'd say such a thing. "It's just… how would you feel if Pier was mad at you then just turned around and kissed ya?" He grumbled out the question not really intending for it to be answered.

"First of all, Pier is nothing like Otis. No idea what you see in the guy." She replied anyway, any chance to gush about Pier of course. Maybe she felt some kinship with Mason about the difficulty of announcing their interest in one another in public. Truthfully, she appreciated his company to keep her mind off Ashton Lewis and the scene in the plaza.

"Otis is nice." Mason defended.

"Uh-huh." Scarlett agreed sarcastically, giving him a look. It wasn't that she didn't think Otis was nice, but she was questioning whether Mason's reasoning simply came down to that. "Nice to look at. What else though?"

Mason sighed, shifting the cloth he'd done scrubbing to the tub of water on the side. "I didn't even mention his appearance. I'm not vain, y'know."

"There's nothing wrong with finding someone attractive." Another woman cut in, startling them both.

Mason and Scarlett exchanged awkward glances, not sure how much she'd heard.

"I'm Tasha by the way." She introduced, giving them a wink. She was an older woman, maybe somewhere in her forties, her dark skin smooth enough to hide her age and a healthy afro had been meticulously styled with ringlets. Her body language exuded confidence that Mason found overwhelming, but she had a friendly tone and smile.

"Hey, Tasha. I'm Scarlett." Scarlett seemed to take an immediate shine to the woman.

"Oh, I know, honey," Tasha laughed. "Dominique's told me you done covered some shifts for her before. I kinda manage this place, nothing really to brag about."

"Think you could tell the Boss to find us washing machines?" Mason joked, earning another laugh.

"I wish." She expressed. "Not much electricity still running through Pittsburgh, whatever we got in here, it's just about enough to keep Med-Bay running. We'd need a generator or two at least. I tell ya." She shook her head and hummed. "Least with us folks working here, they'll pay us. You get the machines to do the work, well…" She let the thought fill itself out.

"Guess them expanding past the Quarantine Zone wasn't such a good idea." Mason reflected.

"Means more folk got somewhere to go. The Military weren't gonna take them in, that's for sure." Tasha seemed to consider the upside of everything. "Point is," She redirected, leaning on a nearby barrel of water. "Don't wait for nothing to fix itself. Never know when you'll end up in the body yard. You find that man attractive, you go tell him."

"I'm not…" Mason began to say uncertainly. "… exactly sure how he feels. I sort of already told him."

"Then talk it over." Tasha said, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

"He's not very talkative." Mason protested.

"Yeah, he can't exactly talk right now either." Scarlett added.

Tasha made a face, letting out a huff of air to dismiss the silly notion. "'course he can talk unless he's dead. That action-hero bullshit tough guy can't talk 'bout his feelings is so last century." She paused to retrieve a can of peaches from her nearby desk.

Scarlett seemed to find her words funny because she agreed.

"No, Tasha, actually, he kind of literally can't talk." Mason clarified, trying not to laugh at the mental image of Otis dressed like a superhero. Admittedly, he'd pay to see him in form fitting clothes, but he'd keep that thought to himself.

Tasha returned, munching a slice of peach. "He a mute?"

"Something like that." Mason shrugged.

"Well, can he write? You find a way, just don't be pushy. No one likes that, behave like an adult and you'll get treated like one." Tasha advised.

"Yeah, instead of asking me about it." Scarlett teased.

Mason flustered but seemed content with that idea. He'd have to talk to him when he got here. "But what do you think I should do? I mean, he's had a hard time so far, I tried to give him a place to stay, but he's got his own. I want to give him something special."

"That sounds sweet." Scarlett agreed. "Not sure what you can give him though. I don't know Meyer like that. Maybe something he likes?"

"Uh, let's see… he likes coffee, cigarettes – I think he said he quit smoking though." Mason slowly got quiet as he realised, maybe not for the first time, that he really didn't know much about Otis.

Tasha and Scarlett were looking at him still, expectant. They looked to each other when Mason sighed.

"Do you think I'm shallow?" He asked after a moment.

Scarlett was about to assure him, but Tasha scoffed. "Ain't about being shallow, like I said, end of the world and all, you take what you can get." She was honest at least, going back to eating her peaches while she moved further down the line to check on the other workers.

"It's not like I don't want to know more." Mason protested, thinking about what little he did know. "His ring." He perked up.

"Ring?" Scarlett frowned in light confusion.

"Kumi and Pier should've brought it back from Will's place, right?" Mason looked to her for confirmation.

"Not sure if they would've found it. There were supplies left there too, not sure why Murphy wouldn't have taken them." Scarlett reflected.

"Reckon Murphy would've taken it? I think it was real silver." Mason speculated.

Scarlett shrugged. "Real silver or not, unless it's worth something to trade for, don't see why it would matter."

Mason sighed. It was tricky. "Maybe I should just talk to Murphy."

Scarlett blanched, staring at him like he'd grown a second head.

"Yeah, I mean, whatever reason he's bothering Otis and Dorothy, I can probably get it sorted, right?" Mason proposed optimistically.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" She hissed at him. "You're just giving him more ammunition to shoot us with!"

"What? No, I'm not." He insisted. "Look, I know Murphy's type – he does the blackmail so he can get fat and rich and retire without a damn to give."

"Bullshit." Scarlett cut him off, pausing briefly to eye a scruffy looking young woman who was lingering around the water dispenser. She lowered her voice and continued. "Murphy does it because it makes him powerful, he's got the parts to fucking retire anyway. He's got it out for Meyer, he's not just going to take a down payment and settle."

"You're just saying that because you're scared. You heard Tasha, communicating is everything." Mason protested.

Scarlett's face was boiling with more than just the steam. "Mason, don't you fucking dare."

"Everything alright?" Tasha's voice cut their argument to silence, but she wasn't talking to them it seemed. "Hannah, honey, you've already used your week's whole allowance for water." She was speaking to the scruffy woman by the water dispenser.

"I know, I just…" The woman looked dishevelled; her ginger hair badly sheered at the shoulders. She seemed new around here. "I'm starving, Tasha." She admitted, holding her hands over her cramping stomach. "Ben won't give me anything and I've got nowhere to go."

Tasha briefly looked around before taking her by the arm to pull her away from the dispenser. "I can't help you, honey," She admitted apologetically. "I don't want no trouble with Ben."

"No, I know…" Hannah's expression looked defeated as she rubbed at her pale face, drawing her oversized coat more tightly around her. She was freezing more because she'd been hungry all week.

Tasha took her hand, pushing her can of peaches into it. "Ain't much left in there, but that's all I can spare you."

Hannah seemed lifted by the simple gesture. "Are you sure, Tasha?" She felt bad for making the woman give her her food.

Tasha gave a firm nod. "Now get on outta here." She shooed her away.

Please R&R!