“I did—I’ll send you a photo.And I’ll come around later today.”
“Before dark, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure thing.”
We get off the phone, and a second later, a photo shows up in my texts.It’s Ford next to a big, strange-looking plant.He’s wearing his usual plaid shirt and smiling like he’s just met his favorite celebrity.
My cousin is a plant nerd, and I kind of love that.
I settle onto the couch and pull up the latest episode ofFlesh and Teeth.During the last episode, some new cowboys arrived at that monastery.Ostensibly they were good guys, but there’s no way their presence here won’t spell drama for the rest of the characters.
Before I pressplay, I open my security app to review the footage from last night.Thankfully, I find nothing out of the ordinary.All was quiet.
Of course, I wasn’t aware at the time because I stayed upstairs and refused to come down to the kitchen for anything until it was light outside.It’s still nice to know.These cameras are a game-changer.
Soon, the blissful sounds of zombies eating cowboys fills my ears.I soak in the vicarious drama of a wild western apocalypse, forgetting everything else.
3
DAMIANO
After responding to Madison’s “Happy Thanksgiving” text, I dial Ironwood Security.
“Ironwood Security, this is Joe.”
I recognize his voice.“Squid, this is Damiano.How are you?”
“Good, I’m good.Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Thanks, same to you.Look, I’m calling about one of your clients.”
“Is this about your girlfriend?”I can imagine him smirking.“You know we’re locked down from giving you any information.”
“I know.”It makes sense, but it is frustrating to be viewed as a threat.“This is merely a matter of courtesy.I’ll be supplementing Madison Greene’s security with guards of my own.”
“Full-time?”
“Full-time.They’ll be on the grounds round the clock.”
“Understood,” Squid says.“Is the client aware of this addition?”
I pause.“Not yet.”
SETH
Madison looks so pale next to me on my parents’ front porch, I worry she might faint.
Another car is parked on the street—I think the Dannigs are already inside.
“We can turn around at any time,” I whisper.“I haven’t rung the doorbell yet.They probably don’t even know we’re here.”
“No, I can do this.”She squeezes my hand.“But are you sure I look okay?”
I evaluate her outfit—a modest brown sweater dress, tucked in at her waist with a dark green belt which brings out the green of her eyes.Her brown hair is pulled back from her face in a simple braid.Her only jewelry are tiny gold hoops in her ears and her great-aunt’s ring on her finger.
“You look amazing.”I squeeze her hand back.“Don’t worry about a thing, all right?”
If things go bad, I have several excuses on the tip of my tongue.Migraine.Work emergency.Earthquake in Argentina.Emergency repairs needed on the Nove building.I could go on and on.I brainstormed even more excuses as I lay awake last night.
