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He pulled out a flashlight instead.
Time to get our guest settled in uncomfortably.
I yanked Luiz out of the back seat, and he got loud again. Or he tried. With zero coordination skills, he jumped and stumbled as I dragged him along. Come morning, I’d remove every trace of his arrival in the dry dirt.
The barn looked like anyone would expect. Six stalls for horses that hadn’t been around in decades, a hayloft I wouldn’t trust to hold my weight, concrete floor, and more dust and spider webs than I’d prefer.
We knew how to live it up.
River righted the thick plastic we’d rolled out across the center of the floor, where a chair waited for Luiz, and into one of the stalls.
We secured him to the chair by removing the old duct tape and applying new. Each foot taped to a leg, hands cuffed around the back, more tape because it was like lube—you could never use too much of it. And I was too exhausted to take risks that would result in me chasing after the piece of shit.
“You go get some rest,” I told River quietly.
We’d set up a four-person tent in one of the stalls, partly to leave fewer traces behind. This was a place we couldn’t torch at the end of our stay, so we had to be careful. No straying off the plastic.
“I’ll be up in an hour,” Riv replied.
I inclined my head, knowing there was no use in arguing. Call it our twin curse—he couldn’t sleep well without me nearby, and I couldn’t shake the anxiety if he didn’t eat properly. Unfortunately, we’d failed at both since the moment Shay had been taken from us, so we were running on fumes and empty stomachs.
I pulled out one of my own flashlights, the one I could dim the light on, and hung it on a rusty nail between two stalls.
Luiz glared at me, following my every move.
He’d get his chance to speak soon.
Before I allowed myself a minute’s rest, I went out to the truck to grab our bags. I dropped two of them inside the tent, in case River wanted to change clothes, and the rest right outside. Then I dug out the fan we’d bought, ’cause let’s face it, we were on the outskirts of Bakersfield in the middle of summer. My watch told me it was seventy-eight degrees.
I plugged in the fan and positioned it outside the tent, aimed at River just as he slumped down on his mattress.
“Thanks.” He nodded once and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Now to get my brain to power down…”
If he succeeded, he was welcome to tell me how he’d done it.
I opened another bag and hauled out everything we had to eat. A few meal bars, couple bags of chips, lukewarm water and soda, and a half-eaten Twix. As much as I would’ve wanted to just say fuck food and water till we found Shay, I had to get us proper sustenance tomorrow. Forcing down an energy bar once a day wasn’t doing us any favors. We needed to be able to concentrate.
“Get something to eat before you crash, brother.” I tossed him one of the bags of chips and a bottle of water. Then I spotted a pack of smokes at the bottom of the bag, and I swallowed.
He hadn’t opened it yet.
He’d once promised me to quit when we turned forty-five, and Shay had quit for good at the same time.
I sighed and tossed him the smokes too.
Hell, even I might cave.
Riv eyed the pack, then me.
Not for the first time, we had nothing to say. Life was fucked. Old rules didn’t apply. Our whole life structure had crumbled.
River set the pack between our mattresses before he stripped down to his boxer briefs, and I reminded him to at least drink some water before he fell asleep. After that, I got my own bottle and left him alone.
I removed my combat vest and trailed over to Luiz. In the dim light, his skin was almost blue, and each bead of sweat was pronounced.
I squatted down in front of him and took a swig of my water.
“You’re gonna listen carefully before I consider letting you speak.” I kept my voice down. “Chances are you’ll spout bullshit the moment I take off the tape, so I wanna spare myself that headache.”
