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Prologue
Otto
“In and out,”my dad murmured, checking to make sure that the pistol he’d pulled out of the safe was loaded before handing it to me. “You’re just there to keep watch, yeah? Make sure there ain’t any surprises.”
“Got it,” I replied, checking it myself before sliding it into the holster hanging against my ribs.
“Got three chances to find those guns,” he muttered to himself. “Me and your uncle are takin’ you boys and Brody with us to the cabin. Casper’s takin’ another group to the warehouse downtown. Gramps and Dragon are checkin’ out the church down by the stadium.”
“We check out all three at once, they won’t have a chance to move ’em,” I replied in understanding. “Where do you think they are?”
“Honestly,” he said with a grimace. “No fuckin’ clue. My bet would be on the cabin. It’s isolated, yeah? Makes sense. But who knows with these fuckin’ weirdos.”
I let out a soft chuckle and loaded an extra magazine, running my fingers through the box of loose bullets my pops kept on a shelf next to the safe. “Can’t say our family’s any better,” I pointed out dryly. “We worship the wind in our faces and the open road as much as they worship their lord and savior.”
Dad scoffed. “Wouldn’t exactly call what we do a religion,” he mused. “But if I did, at least ours doesn’t discriminate, yeah?Plus, I doubt thinkin’ about their god gives ’em a tingle in the balls the way firin’ up my Harley does.”
“Pagan,” I said, laughing.
“Nah, man.” Dad reached up and scratched the back of his neck before turning toward the safe again. “I think there’s someone up there, keepin’ an eye on shit.”
“You do?” I asked in surprise.
“Have youseenyour mother?” I could hear the smile in his voice. “There must be a god.”
My lips twitched. Leave it to my dad to bring the conversation around to my mom. Typical.
“You know, I watched her give birth to Myla on a mattress on our bedroom floor,” he said, his tone growing more serious. “No meds, no hospital, just sheer determination and grit. That was what sealed it for me. If I’d had any doubts that someone was watchin’ out for us, that woulda made me damn sure.”
“Fair enough.”
“You don’t think there’s a god?” he asked curiously, glancing at me over his shoulder.
“Is this seriously what you two are discussin’?” my brother Rumi asked, poking his head into the closet. “Should I be worried?”
“You should always be worried, Rum,” my dad said, tossing a bullet at his head.
“I believe in God,” Rumi replied defensively, dodging the projectile. “Have youseenNova?”
I choked as my dad started to laugh.
“You’re turnin’ into Dad,” I said, shaking my head at Rumi as I ignored the nausea pooling in my belly. “You know that, right?”
“Whatever, I’m way more like Mom.”
“I’d say you’re a good mix of us both,” my dad said, not bothering to look at us.
“Yeah, you somehow inherited the worst traits from both of them.”
“I’m tellin’ Mom you said that,” Rumi threatened as he checked his watch. “We about ready to go? Cuttin’ it close.”
“Here,” my dad said, turning back toward me with a shotgun dangling from his fist.
“You serious?”
“Stop bitchin’,” he said, forcing me to take it. “Put some of these in your pockets.”
“You expect me to carry a shotgun?” I asked flatly as he handed me a fist full of shells.
