Driver 8

CHAPTER 9

Mindset. That’s all Kyle had going for him at the moment. Following over a week of fighting, beatings and torture he was now operating on nothing but pure willpower. After losing a couple hours because of the detour he pressed ahead to make up time, only stopping to refuel and urinate. He even ignored the screaming baby, a feat that was probably the toughest.

When he entered the Republic, hope began to rise in him. When he crossed into Salina, his hope turned to a rising confidence. Soon, he’d either find Portia or know where she wasn’t, then move onto the next stop. He had tried to call Jacob several times along the drive, but never reached him. The idea of a phone was great as long as the other person answered.

Now that he was in Salina, he’d be nearing the beginning of the end of his search. He rounded the last turn and up ahead stood the Rusty Nail. He wasn’t sure if this was the spot Jacob referenced in Salina, but it made logical sense.

He pulled the truck into the parking lot of the Rusty Nail and backed into a spot in the back. Across from him Conrad, the old lot guard, sat smoking a pipe. Today, he wasn’t going in to talk, today he was going in fight.

The baby began to stir and cry.

“Hey little guy, I’m sorry I don’t have milk or food, but I’ll have some soon, I promise,” Kyle said tickling the baby’s chubby cheek.

Kyle stepped out of the truck. He press checked two Glock 19s before stuffing them into holsters, one on his tactical vest and one on his hip. A third Glock 19 he kept on the seat of the truck, he’d carry that one in. He checked to make sure he had enough fully loaded magazines for his pistols and rifle, an old Daniel Defense MK18 carbine.

A whistle from across the parking lot jolted in out of his preps. He looked in the direction and saw one of the prostitutes standing near the back door smoking a cigarette. He nodded and went back to prepping. When his firearms were ready, he put Tommy’s Hoback knife on his vest, and attached Tommy’s axe on his left hip. An idea popped in his head, he looked back at the prostitute and waved her over.

She stomped on her marijuana cigarette and rushed over to him. “Look at you cowboy, you look like you mean business,” she said. She cocked her hip out and gave him a seductive look. She wasn’t older than seventeen and was wearing hot pants and a crop top with no bra underneath. Her blonde colored hair with roots hung down to her shoulders and her bangs were cut horizontally across her brow line.

“I do,” he replied reaching inside his backpack and pulling out a wad of Republic dollars. He handed them to her and said, “I need you to sit here with this baby until I return.”

“Baby?” she asked shocked by the request.

“Yeah,” he said nodding towards the child.

She looked in the cab and said, “Oh my, there is a baby, he’s so cute, or is it a girl?”

“Don’t know, haven’t checked. Can you feed and change him or her while I’m gone too?”

“I don’t know much about babies,” she said reluctant to take the proposition.

“Say, did you get some new girls in here a few days ago?” he asked.

“Yeah, ladies from The Collective, real prissy types,” the girl said.

“Any of them named Portia, average height, dark hair, lean build?” he asked.

“Nope, I don’t know any Portia,” she said smacking on gum. “You know, I’m not sure about this babysitting thing.”

“I’ll double the cash when I get back and I’ll toss in a bonus for you.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?”

“I’ll set you free, you and all the girls,” he said putting his rifle sling over his shoulder.

“Free?”

“Yeah.”

“How ya’ going to do that?” she asked.

He looked her deep into her eyes and said, “Because, I’m going to kill everyone responsible for this place.”

“Jacob, pull over,” Portia urged.

“No, we’re pushing all the way through,” Jacob replied. He was struggling to remain awake.

“Listen to me, you’re exhausted, I’m exhausted, let’s find a place to rest, just for a short bit, please,” she pleaded.

“I can’t, if we hadn’t stopped my team would be alive, Leigh would be alive,” Jacob said.

She put her hand on his and said, “That wasn’t your fault, that was Chef, he betrayed you and your friends.”

“How could he? After all those years together, he just turned us in. It all makes sense when I think about how he had been acting lately. For the past few days, every time we’d camp, we’d discover the Marshals are close behind. That bastard was giving them our coordinates.”

“It’s over now,” Portia said.

“And poor Leigh,” Jacob said fighting back tears.

“I didn’t know you two were together, I’m sorry,” she said.

“We weren’t, I mean we didn’t show the team our affection. I hid it for many years but had only recently opened up to her and now she’s gone.”

“Let’s pull over, please,” she again pleaded.

“Fine,” he said and immediately slowed and took the next dirt road off the old two lane highway. “We’ll park in that grove of trees,” he said pointing ahead some fifty feet.

“Perfect,” she said.

He pulled into the trees and turned the vehicle off. “We’re almost out of fuel.”

“We’ll take care of it later, let’s get some sleep,” she said, her eyes growing heavy.

“I’m really sorry about your husband,” he said.

“And I’m sorry about Leigh. Tell me more about Paradise.”

“What do you want to know?”

“How much further?”

“We’re almost in the Neutral Zone, then we go into Cartel country. If all goes smooth, we’ll be at the dock by tomorrow afternoon, so thirty some hours of driving.”

She yawned.

“You know something. We’re together because of pure fate. A simple call and now we’re sitting here,” he said looking over to see Portia was sleeping. He didn’t want to follow suit but it was becoming impossible. He removed his pistol and sat it on his lap. Leaning back he gazed south, closed his eyes and nodded off.

The drive through Cartel country wasn’t any more dangerous than anywhere else, it was a sparsely populated area due in part because of the Sonoran desert. After the war and the collapse of the grid, the once populated smaller cities emptied out, their population migrating northward towards what they hoped was abundant food and water. With no law and order, the Sinaloa Cartel moved in and quickly occupied, killing or enslaving those who remained. Conflict between the Republic and Cartel soon followed with both sides calling a truce and creating a barrier between their lands called the Neutral Zone. It was a band of land, twenty-miles wide that stretched along what had been the borders of California, Arizona, Nevada, Utah and parts of New Mexico. The Cartel attempted to push east into New Mexico but ran up against a sizable force from the newly formed New Texas.

New Texas was a force to reckon with, they kept to themselves, but anyone who wished to compromise their sovereignty were quickly dispatched. New Texas was huge, spanning the former states of Texas, most of New Mexico, Oklahoma, southern parts of Arkansas and western Louisiana with their capital in Baytown, a port city in east Texas.

During the height of Jacob’s tenure with Leviathan, he and his team had operated in the southern part of the Republic, Sinaloa Cartel territory, and New Texas; they avoided The Collective and never entered California, unless the job would pay heavily. The once populace state suffered dearly from the war with dozens of high yield nuclear warheads hitting cities all along the coast and inland. From San Diego, Los Angeles, Riverside, Sacramento, San Francisco, San Jose and many of the military installations, the state had turned into one large wasteland west of the Sierra, Laguna and San Bernardino mountains. With civilization destroyed, roving tribes of Generates took control years back and had pushed east past the mountains, threatening the other nations.

The Generate problem was the real issue plaguing the land. However, like the leadership in The Collective, everyone was choosing to ignore it despite pleas from small towns and hamlets. Instead, the powers that be targeted a greater threat to their bottom line, Leviathan. With Leviathan in the cross hairs of every government, leader or warlord it put them all in a situation; stay and fight or leave. At the moment, Jacob was still on the path to leave but with his team now dead his decision wasn’t set in stone.

Kyle approached Conrad and stopped a foot from him.

Conrad barely gave him a glance before going back to whittling a chunk of wood. “You’re back. What’s your payment?”

“A group of slaves came in from The Collective, any of them named Portia?” Kyle asked.

Conrad peered over the reading glasses he’d gotten from Kyle before and asked, “Who wants to know?”

“I do,” Kyle said firmly.

Conrad looked at Kyle and saw he was holding a pistol in his right hand. “Don’t you look like Mr. Tough Guy? Um, any information will cost you.”

“How about your miserable life?” Kyle asked and put the pistol under Conrad’s chin. “Tell me if a woman by the name of Portia came here?”

“Listen, I don’t know shit, I just sit here and watch the parking lot,” Conrad begged dropping his knife and the carved piece of wood.

“You’re not helping yourself. This Glock has a five pound trigger pull. Being that I’m angry, it feels more like a two pound pull, and I’m squeezing it right now. I’d say you have half a trigger pull left to tell me what you know before your fucking brains end up all over the wall.”

“A truck came the other day, brought a bunch of them.”

“How many?” Kyle asked pushing the muzzle deeper into his chin.

“I didn’t count.”

“Guess then.”

“Oh, I don’t know, fifteen maybe,” Conrad stammered.

“Did they all stay?”

“No, some left, about nine or ten, but I swear I don’t know who or their names, I swear,” Conrad pleaded.

“How many men does Frank have in there?”

“Ten, he has ten.”

“Where are they usually?”

“Some hang in the bar, some are back with the girls and others have a break room near the back, for the most part everyone in there now is one of Frank’s men on the account it’s early in the morning.”

“Thank you,” Kyle said pulling the trigger.

The top of Conrad’s head exploded. The old man toppled off his stool and smashed into the ground.

“One down, eleven to go,” Kyle said, the eleventh being Frank by Kyle’s count. He shoved the pistol into his waistband, tossed open the door and entered the bar.

“Hey, no guns, read the fucking sign!” a large fat man hollered from the back of the bar. He was sitting at a table with three others playing cards.

Kyle brought his rifle into play. He raised it, flicked the selector switch to SEMI and began to fire. His first two shots struck the fat man, he made a subtle turn and shot the man to his right and another next to him. He pivoted to the left and shot that man. The men fell over or lay face down on the table, all were dead.

Screaming ensued as the few patrons and girls began to flee for cover.

Kyle wasn’t going to let anyone off the hook though, he leveled his rifle at a patron and squeezed two shots off striking the man in the back. He turned and engaged two more men, driving bullets deep into their chest. Clearly he’d changed the targets but after seeing these men preying on the girls, he decided to add them to the kill list.

The break room door flew open and three of Frank’s men came running out, weapons in hand.

Kyle turned and unloaded on them. All of his shots hitting.

The men didn’t have a chance and tumbled to the ground dead.

Kyle’s next destination was through the green door, he threw the door open and entered to find one of Frank’s men coming towards him. He was zipping up his pants and had his weapon under his arm. This was too easy, Kyle raised his rifle and fired, the first shot struck the man in the upper chest but no second shot came as the bolt locked to the rear. The man dropped to his knees and cried out in pain.

Kyle hit the magazine release. The empty magazine fell to the floor with a clang. He loaded a fresh magazine, hit the bolt release and squeezed two more shots off. The man fell backwards.

At the far end of the hall, a woman stuck her head out, looked at Kyle and screamed in terror before slamming the door shut.

“Portia are you here? Portia!” Kyle yelled. He walked to the first door on the right, kicked it open but found the room empty. He proceeded to the door opposite, this time he found a man in bed with a young girl. He leveled the rifle and drilled the man with two well placed shots to the chest. The young girl sprang out of bed, tripped and lay in the corner crying. Kyle said, “You’re safe now. Do you know a woman named Portia?”

The girl shook her head vigorously indicating she didn’t know anyone by that name, fear gripped her as she lay huddled on the floor.

“Put your clothes on and just wait for me to return.” Kyle exited the room, stepped over the first man he’d shot and went to the second set of doors. He stepped back to kick it open when a volley of bullets burst out of the door, two striking him in the chest. He stumbled back and grimaced in pain. His armor plates had saved him. He stepped forward, kicked the door open and stepped back. “Portia, are you in there?”

The man inside opened up again with a nine millimeter pistol, the bullets hitting the far hallway wall and door jam.

Kyle waited patiently for the pistol to empty. When he heard the distinct metal click of the slide locking back, he stepped into the open doorway and fired a burst of fire at the man who was hiding behind the bed. Kyle’s shots were true and the man fell over. Like before, Kyle told the girl in the room to get dressed and just wait.

Room to room, Kyle went until he had cleared them all, but came up empty handed. Finished, he proceeded back to the main bar. He peeked around the corner to see Frank talking with one of his men. “I don’t give a shit, find him and kill him, now!”

Kyle stepped out, his rifle pointed at Frank and hollered, “Frank, it’s over, all your men are dead. I’m here looking for a woman named Portia.”

Frank quickly raised his shotgun and pointed it at Kyle. “You’re a fucking dead man. You know that? The second the Republic finds out you attacked this place, you’re a wanted man.”

“Too late, I’m already a wanted man, now answer the question. Where’s Portia?”

“I don’t know any cunt named Portia!” Frank screamed.

Frank’s lone man, stood next to him behind the bar, his hands fiddling with something.

Kyle turned and shot him in the neck then trained the rifle back on Frank. “I said don’t move.”

Frank watched in horror as his man, gagged and choked, his neck squirting blood. The man stumbled back and fell down. “You’re a fucking dead man.”

“Where’s Portia?”

“I don’t know anyone named that!” Frank yelled back.

“She’s not here, she went south on the truck,” Candace said appearing from the red door.

Keeping his muzzle pointed at Frank, Kyle looked at Candace. “She’s not here?”

“No,” Candace answered fearlessly walking to Kyle and opening her hand to show Kyle the ring. “She gave this to me and said if someone came asking for her, this would prove she was here.”

Kyle glanced at the ring for a second then put his attention back on Frank. “Candace, go gather all the ladies, get everyone ready to leave.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Yes, you’re free.”

Candace turned and headed towards the Red door.

“You stop, Candy, don’t you dare get the girls. You’re not going anywhere!” Frank barked.

Candace stopped and turned to face Frank. “Fuck you, Frank!” she barked back holding up her middle finger.

Frank’s face turned red. He pivoted the shotgun in her direction.

Kyle was still trained on him and took the opportunity to fire. Several rounds blasted out of his rifle and struck him in the torso.

Frank reeled back, his finger pulling the trigger of the shotgun but the blast went into the ceiling.

Kyle ran towards him, hurdled the bar and found Frank on the floor coughing up blood. “You look like shit, Frank.”

“Fuck you,” Frank gargled.

Kyle let his rifle hang from the two point sling, he removed the axe, held it high then swung down, burying it deep into Franks’ face. “I told you I might come back.”

Candace rocked the swaddled baby in her arms and talked to her softly, “You’re so cute, yes you are.”

Seeing the tender and nurturing side of someone was a welcome reprieve for Kyle. Candace had agreed to take the baby girl, her gender finally identified. It was a happy ending for the child and for the girls from the Rusty Nail.

“You’re free, where will you go?” Kyle asked.

“Frank had a ranch, five miles up the road. We’ll go there for now. I know there aren’t any guarantees but we at least have a chance,” Candace said.

“That’s true,” Kyle said.

“I can’t thank you enough. Your friend said you were the hero type, I guess he was right after all,” Candace said flanked by twenty-two women and girls.

“I’m not so sure about that. You’ve got enough vehicles and weapons?” Kyle asked.

“Yep, we’ll be fine. And you’re sure you know where you’re going?” she asked referring to the Generate encampment.

“Yeah, I know it’s not exact coordinates, but I’ll find it and hopefully, Portia.”

Unable to resist, she leaned in and gave him a hug, “I hope you find her and if you do, tell her Candy did her part.”

“I will,” he said touching Portia’s ring that now hung from a leather strap around his neck.

“If you ever find your way back here, you have a place to stay, I circled it on the map.”

“Sounds good. I’ll say goodbye then,” Kyle said and hastily walked away. He wasn’t a fan of farewells so he always tried to shorten their duration.

“Goodbye… Kyle Grant,” Candace said.

Portia sat up and opened her eyes. Around her was open desert. “Where are we?”

“You have been out for a long time,” Jacob said.

Portia rubbed her eyes and stretched. “This is so barren, dry. Are we in Arizona?”

“That’s what it used to be called, it’s now called Sinaloa. How nice they name their new country after themselves,” Jacob quipped.

“I’ve never seen the desert,” Portia said.

“Nothing here, makes for a boring drive but the bonus is we can go a hundred miles per hour,” Jacob said.

Portia leaned close to the windshield and gazed towards the southern horizon. “Is that blue sky?”

“A sliver, we get more glimpses of blue the further south we go.”

“I’ve seen it, just not all that much in Prime. I remember the sky was always blue when I was a kid, now it all seems like a dream, like the gray has been there forever.”

“I hear the sky is a deep blue in Paradise,” Jacob said.

“I can’t wait,” Portia said drawing her knees close to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

“Listen, when we get to Puerto Penasco, we won’t have much time to board the boat and leave,” Jacob warned.

“Why?”

“On the account I lied to our cartel contact.”

“What did you tell them?”

“They allowed the boat to dock in exchange for a large food shipment from The Collective that I’m sure we’re not going to get. Tommy, a Leviathan who was doing a job in The Collective, was bringing a truck load to us. I haven’t heard from him so I can only assume he’s dead.”

“Why don’t we wait?”

“It’s best to leave, get on the boat and set sail before the cartel knows we’ve lied.”

“Okay, whatever you say,” Portia said reaching up towards her neck to play with the locket that normally hung there. When she recalled it was lost, she sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“You look upset,” Jacob said.

“I had a locket from Kyle but it was stolen. I’m just sad that I don’t have anything of his except memories.”

“Be happy, that’s more than most have. At least you had a decent life.”

“The Collective was horrible,” Portia countered.

“I know that’s your perspective but look at the world you were almost sold off into. Whatever you dealt with paired in comparison.”

She thought about his comment and concluded he was right. “Sorry, I’m just being a baby, I miss Kyle and just wanted to have something of his, something tangible.”

“It’s just about perspective, that’s all, soon enough we’ll be on our way to a new home.”

“I’m excited,” Portia declared.

“Me too.”

Just when Kyle thought he was lost he saw thin wisps of black smoke rising from the adjacent ridge line. He looked at the map and determined it had to be the Generate camp.

Unable to take his truck, he parked it in a thick massing of tall shrubs. Like he’d always done, he disabled the truck by removing the battery and several spark plugs. He could never be too careful.

The hike to the camp was a haul, after first descending five hundred feet, he made that climb plus another three hundred by his estimates.

The distinct smell of burnt embers hit his nostrils telling him he was close. He made the last dozen feet and stood on top of the ridge. Below him a large clearly spread out and the obvious remains of a Generate camp lay before him. To his right huts and to his left lay huge heaps of charred blackened wood and ash. Between it all were bloated bodies. It was clear the Generates had been attacked and he could only assume it was Leviathan. He trudged to the huts and began to search, he turned over every female body he came upon until he reached the makeshift tables and grills used for their ceremonies. Flies and other insects swarmed over the burnt human remains that lay there. Unable to go further because of the putrid smell, he pulled out a handkerchief and tied it to his face.

From the remains there were at least seven or eight bodies that had been dismembered and cooked.

Was one of them Portia?

He thought. Putting aside his revulsion he went through the pile of limbs and torsos looking for something that would tell him she was among the dead. He started at the first table and moved left. As he headed to the last table his eye caught the glint of something in the tamped down grass. He picked it up and instantly recognized it as Portia’s locket. His legs began to feel weak and his stomach tightened. He fell to his knees and vomited. There was no doubt she was dead; and worse, murdered and consumed by savages. Deep sorrow overwhelmed him as he began to sob. He’d come so far only to find that the worst possible thing had happened to her. There would be no happy reunion, no, his life was forever changed. There was no amount of revenge that could temper the feeling of loss, but he’d try either way. He got to his feet, put the locket around his neck and headed back to his truck, an empty man but one with a new purpose; kill every Generate and slaver that crossed his path.

Upon seeing the expansive sea, Portia froze and stared in amazement. Having lived her entire life in the mountains the sight was beautiful and foreign, a feast for her eyes. The salty air filled her nostrils and washed over her face. Unable to resist, she removed her shoes and stepped out across the sand towards the water.

“You were serious when you said you’d never been anywhere other than The Collective,” Jacob said watching Portia walk towards the lapping water.

“It’s so beautiful. Is this the ocean?” she asked stepping into the warm water.

“Not technically, it’s the Sea of Cortez, or that’s what it used to be called.”

Her feet disappeared under the shifting sand and water. She wrapped her arms around herself and instantly thought of Kyle. Her heart ached knowing he was dead. If only he could be there with her to experience this.

“I know this seems nice, but where we’re going it’s a hundred times nicer,” Jacob said.

“Are you sure? How can such a place exist?” Portia asked her eyes still fixed on the horizon.

“That’s why they call it faith.”

She looked at Jacob over her shoulder and said, “I’m not sure I can thank you enough for saving me.”

“It’s what we do. Now come, the boat is ready,” Jacob said motioning towards forty foot sail boat tied to the side of the dock.

“I’ve never been on a boat before,” Portia said.

“It’s fun.”

Fun? That wasn’t a word she used often. How could she enjoy something knowing Kyle was gone?

“Portia, come, let’s go,” Jacob urged.

She looked down and wiggled her toes enough so she could see them. Looking up towards the open water once more she took a mental snap shot. This was a moment she never wanted to forget. Today marked the first day of a new life. If Jacob was right and a Paradise existed out beyond the horizon, she’d soon be there; free of the burdens from her old life and with a hope that one day she could find love again.

“Portia, come on, they’re waiting for us,” Jacob said pointing towards the waving crew of the boat.

“I’m coming, I just wanted a moment to collect my thoughts,” she replied stepping out of the water. She picked up her shoes, and headed towards him.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just wish Kyle could be here with me.”

“He would want this for you, I know that.”

A man whistled from the boat and waved, “Time’s wasting!”

“Are you ready to go find Paradise?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

The two walked along the beach until they reached the dock.

An elderly man by the name of Winston stood on the aft of the boat smoking a pipe, he gave Jacob and Portia an annoyed looked before he snapped, “Anytime you two want to go would be nice. The cartel could show up anytime and change their bean eating minds.”

“We’re going old man, calm down,” Jacob laughed.

Portia leaned in and whispered, “Is he always that grumpy?”

“Pretty much,” Jacob admitted.

“Great.”

Jacob put his hand out and she took it. With a slight lift, he helped Portia climb onto the boat.

A young boy popped his head out from below. “Welcome aboard.”

“Oh, hello,” Portia said with a smile. “Who are you?”

“I’m Nathan,” the boy, who was about eleven answered.

“Shut your mouth boy and get back to work,” Winston barked. “Jacob, untie us, and be quick about it.”

Jacob did as he said and tossed the lines on board the boat and gave it a shove.

Winston turned a key. A small engine that powered a single prop near the keel of the boat came to life.

Portia turned and watched as the boat drifted away from the dock but Jacob wasn’t on board. “Jump, come on.”

Jacob shook his head and replied, “I’m staying. My fate is tied to these lands,” he said.

“But you said you were coming, all that talk!” Portia exclaimed, her face flush.

“I was when my team was going, but that all changed. I’m sorry, but I need to go start what I finished with the slavers and those marshals,” he hollered, the boat drifting further and further away.

“They’ll kill you, no please, come with us. Turn the boat around, now!” Portia ordered Winston who in return gave her a frown.

“If the man wishes to stay, he stays, simple,” Winston growled.

“Turn around, please,” Portia begged.

“Portia, you’ll be fine. I know Winston is gruff but he’s got a good heart and Nathan, don’t let his tenderness fool you, he’ll protect you, he’s tough and strong,” Jacob hollered.

“Why?” Portia asked flustered and sad.

“Goodbye, Portia Grant, live a good life,” Jacob said. He turned and walked towards the embankment.

Portia kept her eyes on him until he got in the SUV and drove over the hillside and out of sight. Her stomach was a ball of mixed emotions. In front of her lay open water, behind her a life that had given her moments of joy and love but mostly loneliness and stress. What will happen to me? She asked herself and drifted off into deep thought.

“Don’t worry, ma’am, I’ll keep an eye out for ya’,” Nathan said taking a seat next to her.

Nathan’s sudden appear jolted her back to the present. With a gently smile she asked, “You’ll look after me.”

“You bet, ma’am, it’s what we do,” he said. It was a common phrase Jacob would say.

“Then I feel better already,” she said tucking the fine loose hairs that came loose from her ponytail behind her ears.

“Jacob saved me too,” Nathan confessed.

Not shocked to hear even after knowing Jacob for a short while, she replied, “He’s a good man.”

“And so is Winston back there. Like Jacob said, he’s got a good heart,” Nathan said glancing back at Winston who returned his glance with a scrunched face.

“Will we ever see Jacob again?”

“Ma’am I’ve been told to always be honest and the answer is simple, no. He’s on another path and he has a mission to fulfill. Believe me, I wish it weren’t the case but Jacob is gone, forever,” Nathan said.

“That makes me sad,” Portia frowned as she put her attention to the shifting water around her and noticed she couldn’t see land anymore. This made her a bit fearful but she also couldn’t escape feeling excited about the adventure she was on.

“Jacob said you were a teacher. Is that true?” Nathan asked.

“Yes, it is true, I was an elementary school teacher in The Collective,” she replied.

The boat rocked as it hit bigger waves.

“Good, then maybe you can show me how read and maybe even write?” Nathan asked sheepishly.

“You don’t…” she said before stopping herself from saying something insensitive. Not every child was given an education like The Collective. She didn’t know Nathan’s story but he was a post-war child and she had a feeling he had been a slave and educating slaves wasn’t a priority. “Of course and if you want we can start now.”

“Really?” Nathan said, his eyes wide with excitement.

“We’ll start with the alphabet. Have you ever heard of that before?”

Nathan shook his head.

She recited the letters of the alphabet then encouraged him to follow along.

As he did, she got up and headed towards the aft. “Any water?”

Winston grabbed a bottle and gave it to her.

“Thank you,” she said taking the bottle and taking a drink.

“Why are you bothering?” Winston asked nodding towards Nathan.

“Because everyone deserves a chance to learn,” Portia answered.

Winston grumbled, “He’s learned all he needs too.”

“If where we’re going is what Jacob says, he’ll need to know,” she said turning back to go sit down when a sliver of deep blue sky penetrated the gray clouds. She stared and longed for a day when she could see the entire sky blue. It had been many years since she’d seen that and sometimes she wondered if it really was blue or just a dream. And just as fast as it appeared, thick gray clouds covered it but didn’t darken her spirits. Whatever lay ahead gave her the promise of a new beginning and even if she were given the chance to turn around she’d turn it down. She didn’t know if anything about Paradise was going to be how Jacob described it, in fact it could all be wrong, however; the one fact she did have was it was going to be her new home.