Finally home, was a long week... still in pain but manageable.
Felt like neither of us really left the shop anymore.
Long nights.
Longer talks.
Which was new for us.
The new bottle of tequila we started together was already gone.
Now it was a bottle of Jack Daniel’s.
Plenty of walks to the Legion like a couple responsible adults pretending we had normal lives.
Could tell she was finally getting comfortable.
Like it actually felt like home to her.
Think I liked seeing that considering she basically lived out of a suitcase before all this.
She was already awake when I got up that morning.
My first coffee of the day was made and sitting on the kitchen table.
I headed down to the shop.
Soon as I walked through the door I knew something was wrong.
Z was standing near the bench.
Looked as tense as she was when I first saw her in Georgia.
Then I saw him.
Guy standing in the open garage doorway.
Massive.
Nordic.
Bigger than any of the Georgians from the estate.
Older too.
Didn’t move when I walked in.
I stepped most of the way in front of her without really thinking about it.
Asked him who he was.
Said his name wasn’t important.
Said why he was there was.
Then he looked over at the equipment spread across the shop.
“You were working for a very bad man.”
Z looked at him.
“Were?”
He nodded once.
“Yes. Were.”
Room went quiet after that.
Then he looked back at me.
“Have you ever heard of the Core Sun Rising project?”
Told him no.
He said it didn’t matter.
Said we were part of it now.
Said nobody would be bothering us anymore.
“But we’ll be watching.”
“And we’ll keep in touch.”
Then he reached into his jacket.
Set something down on the tool cart.
Turned around and walked back out into the morning like he belonged there.
Think both of us just stood there for a second after he left.
Looked at each other.
Then I walked over to the cart.
Picked everything up and brought it back over to her.
Electronic components mostly.
Parts I’d been missing.
Then it hit me.
He said they’d be watching.
Truth is they probably already had been.
Enough to help finish the device.
Underneath all of it was a stack of journal pages.
Torn.
Water damaged.
Some sections blacked out completely.
Others just missing.
But the name at the top of the first page was still readable.
Dr. Miriam Solace.
We dove into the journal after that.
Spent hours trying to piece together whatever we could.
Comparing it against Huntington’s journals.
That’s when we realized they knew each other.
Not casually either.
Worked together for years.
After both our brains finally fried I looked over at her.
“That’s enough.”
Asked her if she wanted to go get cleaned up.
Said we’ve got somewhere to be.
She looked back at me.
“Fish fry?”
“No. Not tonight.”
“Just be ready in ten.”
Soon as she headed upstairs I went straight outside.
Checked the Jeep from the tailpipe to the front bumper.
Looking for anything.
Tracking device.
Microphone.
Didn’t find anything.
Didn’t mean much.
If they’d really been watching us they probably already had the shop wired up anyway.
Headed back upstairs after that.
Went into the bedroom.
Grabbed this journal.
Think it’s time to come clean.
She needs to see it.
Hope this goes well.
Otherwise this might be the last entry I write in here.