"It's a bloody sign from God if I ever saw one," Connor laughed, turning and offering his hand to help Eunice over the concrete barrier that had been put up days ago to redirect traffic. Murphy had his hand up, too, the boys doing the gentlemanly thing. It was something she appreciated about the boys. They were some of the politest men she'd ever known. Knew how to treat a woman with proper common decency.
She didn't need their help to get over the barrier, of course. And they knew that. But it was the principle of the matter. And she certainly wasn't going to complain about the proper escort they willingly gave her at the drop of a hat.
"I'll take your word for it," Eunice said with a thin smile and a tilt of her head. Not even a week since the state of emergency had been declared and most of the refugee centers across the country had devolved in much the way Atlanta had. The only good to come of the chaos so far was that no one stopped to check her clearance once she flashed her badge. No one had the time or care to make their way through the red tape. They wanted someone to be in charge and it not to be them.
It had made getting the brothers out of the detention center they'd been transferred to much easier than it would have been otherwise. Sadly, that blessing came at the expense of hundreds of thousands of lives and a country quickly falling apart. At least she was with two of the best people in the world to be stuck with as the government crumbled and the dead literally walked the earth. She hadn't ever been much of religious woman, but this was making her believe a little more every day it kept going on.
"It is. In big, bold letters, even," Murphy agreed with his brother, throwing his arms out as if to frame the words on the side of the van that was sitting parked outside an apartment building. It had pulled up only minutes before and a man had jumped out, calling for someone inside the building.
Holy Cross Lutheran Church.
Eunice shook her head, but tucked each of her arms into the boys' as they crossed the street toward it, "Would have thought it'd need to be Catholic to count."
"Oh, no," Connor refuted in that polite tone he took so easily. He and Murphy were always willing to educate and explain about God's ways to her. They knew her faith wasn't strong, but they wanted to encourage any spark of it that there might be. "It don't matter the exact specifics of the faith in times like these. Just that we can see God's path for us shining through."
"Aye, he's right. God provides, you just have ta leave ya eyes open," Murphy agreed, letting go of Eunice's arm to take point and run up to the side of the van and look inside. "Look at this. The bastard has enough food and water to last weeks holed up somewhere."
Said bastard came rushing out of the building's front door just then, an Asian kid in tow. He was a black man, big, looked capable. He slowed up when he realized there were people gathered around his van. The Asian kid hung back, staring wide-eyed before asking, "T? Someone you know?"
'T' (apparently) shook his head and swallowed some air before licking his lips. He was clearly unsure what to do about the three. Murphy coming around one side and Connor with Eunice on his arm coming around the other.
Eunice smiled brightly, "Good afternoon, gentleman. The boys and I here were wondering if we could join you in wherever you're getting off to."
The Asian kid looked between them, then to T when the black man turned to look at him. He was clearly still processing this. Hadn't been expecting anyone around but his friend.
She let go of Connor's arm and stepped forward, holding a hand out to shake, "Eunice Bloom. FBI."
"Uh... T-Dog. I mean, Theodore Douglas," T answered, blinking his way out of his shock and reaching out to take her hand. "But my friends call me T-Dog. Uh... this is Glenn."
Glenn gave a small wave and a tentative smile, "Hi."
"Great ta meet ya. T-Dog," Murphy snickered, unable to take the nickname seriously. "Howl's the prowl?"
Connor broke down in a fit of giggles with his brother, leaning on him as Murphy finally got back to his side.
"Ignore them," Eunice said before T-Dog could dignify the joke with a response. Then she flipped her hand from one side to the other and introduced them, "Connor. Murphy. We'd appreciate a ride out of the city, if you're providing."
"Can't you get one?" Glenn asked and realized in the next second he'd said it out loud. The widening of his eyes as he found everyone looking at him gave it away as a slip of the tongue. "I uh... I mean, you're FBI, right? Couldn't you get like, access to a tank or something?"
"Oh fuck, could you?" Murphy slid into her field of vision, grinning like a fool.
"Are you nuts? We couldn't all fit into a tank," Connor interrupted and drew Murphy into one of their arguments that Eunice had learned to tune out. She kept her attention squarely on T-Dog and Glenn.
"Unfortunately, no," she answered. "While I am certainly above the local police in clearance, I am not above the military command. The boys and I are rather low priority. Particularly when it comes to getting people out of the refugee center."
T-Dog shared another look with Glenn before shrugging and staring past her to his van, "I've got about fifteen more stops to make today. Church members. Been trying to find them and friends and get them out if they want to go."
"That's very kind of you," Eunice said. And the sentiment was genuine. "The boys here, they saw your van pull up while we were down the block and they said it was a sign from God."
T-Dog looked like he was stuck somewhere between laughing and crying at that. He shook his head, "Naw. My van isn't a sign from God. Whatever this thing going around is... that's the sign from God. And I can tell you, it's not a good one."
Eunice didn't answer that. She waited until the side door was opened before calling out to the brothers, who were still engaged in their stupid argument, "Boys? Would you be so kind as to help a lady into the van?"
The two broke apart, sharing grins (because they could never stay mad at each other, one of their most endearing traits), and jogged over. Murphy slid in first as Connor held his hand out for Eunice to catch her balance on. She knew it must look like they waited on her hand and foot to T-Dog and Glenn, and that was the intention: make anyone they came across think she was the brains and they were the very dumb brawn.
As the van pulled away and Glenn turned around to stare before asking the questions she knew was coming, Eunice allowed herself to relax. The end of the world seemed to be upon them and she'd managed to get herself a ride out of the worst of it with two of God's greatest artists willing to watch over her. In the back of her mind she conceded that maybe the van was a sign sent from the heavens.