Flanked Read online

  DRY RUN Book Two

  FLANKED

  Lolly Walter

  Copyright © 2018 by Lolly Walter

  Cover design by Natasha Snow Designs, natashasnowdesigns.com

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2019

  ISBN 978-0-9997133-4-1

  Awl Collaborative Press

  PO Box 2435

  Pflugerville, TX 78691

  Awlcollaborativepress.com

  Run. Hide. Survive.

  When he finally — violently — escapes his sadistic boss at sex tourism den Flights of Fantasy, Joe has a plan: he and his lover, Devin, will hike over a thousand miles from bleak and barren Austin, deep in the Texas Territory, to the crown jewel of New America’s domed cities, Minneapolis. Joe’s been planning the escape for years, hoping to locate the father who left him behind, but he has no idea what he’ll find. All Joe wants is to keep Devin safe. All Devin wants is Joe.

  Life on the road is unforgiving and even more desperate than life in Austin, and it isn’t long before Joe’s careful plan falls apart. When he and Devin rescue a band of teenagers also on the run from Flights of Fantasy, things go from bad to worse. Battling hunger, thirst, pain, and prejudice, with every stranger more dangerous than the last, Joe will do anything to keep Devin and the teenagers alive. He can’t afford mistakes, and he doesn’t have time for anyone, even Devin, to question his decisions.

  But mistakes happen. And Joe finds the hardest questions are the ones he asks himself.

  To Eleanor, Colleen, and Natalie,

  Every day, you teach me a bit more about bravery.

  Contents

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Also by Lolly Walter

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  ONE

  Sun-baked earth scorched the blistered soles of Joe Brady’s feet.

  He hobbled back into the house and peered out at the sunset, red and orange and pink, shimmering over the crumbling, dirt-blanketed houses and the empty highway. Some other day, Joe would have enjoyed watching the sleepy-slow fade into night, but the buzzing that had awakened him was growing louder. He didn’t have time to spare.

  He turned into the dusty room and crouched next to his slumbering partner, Devin, whose skin flushed the same rosy pink as the sunset. Joe hated to wake him. They’d tried to put as much distance as possible between themselves and their old employer back in Austin, Flights of Fantasy, so they’d walked all day and night before collapsing, achy and exhausted, in this abandoned house. As far as they’d gone, it hadn’t been enough.

  Devin’s lips fluttered softly with his breath, and Joe wasted a moment tracing a finger along the contour of Devin’s cheekbone. He slipped his hand over Devin’s biceps and nudged his shoulder. “Papi, wake up.”

  Devin startled and rolled onto his back. His pupils narrowed as his eyes adjusted to the increased light, exposing more blue-lightning iris. He tugged at the collar of his sweat-damp shirt. “Is it time? I just got comfortable.”

  “We’re being tracked. A drone.”

  Something hit the house with a loud thud, rattling the windows.

  Joe and Devin jumped.

  “What the fuck?” Devin scrambled to his feet so quickly he almost hit Joe in the face. His massive frame filled the doorway as he peered out the peephole. He pulled a small white VICE-shot from his pocket. “Are there people with it?”

  The thumping sound came again and again, louder than the constant buzzing, maintaining a steady rhythm. The drone had to be banging itself against the side of the house.

  Joe snatched up his backpack and tossed another one to Devin. “Drones are unmanned, but we need to leave.”

  “Can’t we stay? Won’t it run out of juice and die? We’re safe in here.”

  Joe shook his head and knelt to tie his shoelaces. “I wish. If it’s tracking us, and it sure seems to be, it’ll have some sort of relay to let Boggs know where we are.”

  Devin scuffed his toe over the bland gray grout lines between the diamond-encrusted floor tiles. He stared at his foot for a moment before he met Joe’s eyes. “You think he’s chasing us?”

  After the way Joe had defied him and returned the baby Boggs had kidnapped? The greedy heat in the man’s eyes when he told Joe exactly how he’d be punished? “He’ll want us back.”

  “Right, then.” Devin cocked his head like he was listening. Before Joe could react, he stormed out the door.

  A green flash lit the outside world, obliterating the sunset.

  Joe inhaled sharply. Damn. He was fairly certain no one accompanied the drone, but he could be wrong, and Devin was his world. He hurriedly shrugged out of his backpack, then dug in a side pocket and pulled out a pair of vision shields. He suctioned them to his face, tapped a button to activate the protection, extended the switchblade he’d been carrying in his pocket, and ran after his lover.

  As soon as Joe stepped outside, the small, hovering drone fired another bright green pulse.

  When Joe kept moving, the light continued to flare, but the vision shields protected him. He scanned the area around the yard and beyond as far as he could see. No strangers, no armed men. Just Devin, slumped against the house, six or seven feet to the left of the door.

  Devin had shut his eyes, and his fingers scrabbled uselessly in the dirt around him.

  “Can you hear me? Keep your eyes closed.” Joe picked up the VICE-shot, which sat a foot away from Devin’s reaching hand, then squatted and checked Devin’s pulse.

  Devin’s heart was racing and his breathing was shallow, but both vital signs were strong.

  Joe relaxed a little. He looped his arms under Devin’s armpits and dragged him toward the temporary safety of the house.

  The going was slow. Outweighed by a good thirty pounds, Joe struggled to move him. Every once in a while, Devin would get his feet under him and propel himself backward a foot or two. Finally, with one last burst of effort, Joe anchored his feet against the interior door frame and launched himself and Devin into the house.

  Sweaty and appearing dazed, Devin fell on top of Joe and grunted when Joe rolled him away and slammed the door.

  Joe patted Devin’s cheeks. “I need you to say something so I know you’re okay.”

  “I can’t see.”

  Thank God. Joe could deal with that. Anything worse, he didn’t want to think about. “The drone used a dazzler. That green light you saw? Causes temporary blindness and disorientation. You’ll be fine.”

  Devin groaned and sat up. “That was information I could have used before I ran out there like an ass. Sure doesn’t feel like I’m gonna be fine.”

  Joe swallowed a testy retort. He would’ve warned Devin if he’d gotten the chance, but it didn’t matter now. “We need to figure out how Boggs is tracking us. It won’t do us any good to run if the drone follows us.”

  “That’s why I was going to shoot it down.”

  “He’d send another one.” Joe retrieved Devin’s shoes from the hearth of the ela
borate white granite fireplace and couldn’t hold back his snort. Even in the decades before The Change shot temperatures so sky-high that people fled north, this part of Texas had been way too hot for fireplaces to be practical. “Did you have a fireplace in your house?”

  He knelt next to Devin’s feet and straightened out the socks that Devin had left in his shoes. Joe slipped one over Devin’s toes, only to have Devin jerk away.

  “I can do that. Just hand them to me. Fucking blisters. You’d think we wouldn’t have blisters after one lousy day.”

  Leaving Devin to it was easier than arguing. Accompanied by the drone’s whirring and the sound of it battering the house, Joe hustled about the spacious room, retrieving their few belongings and folding the ultra-thin polytherm sleeping bags until they were the size of rolled-up socks. He stuffed them both into a small black sack, then shoved the sack into the backpack on Devin’s back.

  In the darkening kitchen, Joe placed their water jug under the tap.

  The rusty water hit the filter at the top of the jug and dropped into the container, clear and inviting.

  He filled the entire gallon, took a drink, offered some to Devin, and topped it off again. He tucked the filter into a side pocket of his own backpack and wrestled the jug into the main pouch. The walk would be harder carrying the extra weight, but he wasn’t sure when they’d find water again. This exurb still had some, but for all they knew, the land to the north might be barren desert. They could die of thirst before they even reached another town. Judging by the mile markers on the highway, they were already fifty miles north of where they’d started. The Austin metro area might end soon. Better to take with them whatever water they could carry.

  “We had three fireplaces,” Devin said, finally answering Joe’s question. He’d managed to clumsily put on both his socks and one shoe. “Worthless junk.”

  Joe had to force himself not to try to help. Instead, he peered out the window to check for trouble. Still deserted. Luckily, the front of the house faced Interstate 35, the highway that led north away from Austin, so any threats approaching from home would be easy enough to spot. “We only had one, but we never used it.”

  Devin thrust his shoe in Joe’s general direction. “Get this goddamned knot out, will you?”

  Joe reached for the shoe and froze. “My timepiece.”

  Devin jiggled his shoe. “My knot.”

  “That’s how he’s tracking us.”

  It had to be. The slim black band and silver face had been a friend to Joe, helped him stay on time and feel in control when he worked. It also sent a GPS signal. He should have thought to dump it, but he’d been too preoccupied with their escape and thinking over what had happened their last night in Austin: the deaths of both his old lover, Victor, and Candy, the boss’s wife; Devin’s fury over Joe’s dishonesty.

  “You mean the way your timepiece could let dear old Fucks of Fantasy know where to pick us up if we were stuck after a client was through with us?” Devin whacked his shoe against Joe’s leg.

  Joe grabbed the shoe and chuckled at Devin’s colorful nickname for their old employer. The place had never been a fantasy for any of them, unless Joe counted the time he had spent with Devin. He untangled the laces and laid the shoe in Devin’s lap.

  After Devin put on the shoe, he rolled away and tried to stand. He made it to his feet before he swayed.

  Joe caught him by throwing a shoulder into his chest, though he staggered under Devin’s weight. Even though they were in a hurry, he reveled in the heat and power of Devin’s body. He stood still and let Devin use his shoulders as a handhold.

  “This dazzler shit has me messed up. Help me to a wall.”

  Joe shifted so Devin’s chest pressed against his back. He guided Devin to a garishly red wall, then slipped from his grasp. Less painful to move away on his own than to have Devin spurn his touch. Joe leaned against the wall, close enough that he could catch Devin if he started to fall. “What do you think of this plan? We’ll leave the timepiece here and sneak out the back door. The drone should stay fixated on the GPS signal, so as long as we don’t get caught in the view of its camera, we should be able to sneak away.”

  Devin grunted. “Fine.”

  Joe nodded, even though Devin couldn’t see him, and glanced toward the window again.

  The sun had set more fully. Only a little light made its way between the slanted window shades.

  They had decided to travel by night to avoid the threat of heat stroke, even now in the dead of winter, but Joe worried about other people who might be out when the sun went down. He was distracted from his thoughts when he saw Devin cradle his head in shaky hands.

  For the first time, Joe worried that Devin might not be well enough to travel. They were already on borrowed time. Maybe they should stay in the area, find a new house to hole up in. Maybe —

  “I’m fine.” Devin wedged himself against the wall and squared his shoulders. “I can hear you overthinking.”

  “The effects of the dazzler have worn off?” They were only supposed to last a few minutes, but Devin sure didn’t look steady on his feet, and he wasn’t making eye contact.

  “We have to go.”

  Joe sighed. “But if you’re not feeling up to it, we can find a different house, spend some more time —”

  “We do that, he’ll find us. We’re not going back.” Devin listed forward. “Now hold my fucking hand so I don’t bang into anything, and let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Joe took hold of Devin and led him back out into the world.

  ***

  Blurred shapes moved in and out of Devin’s path. He couldn’t tell if what he saw was moving, or if his movement changed what he saw. The blindness wore on him, heightened his fear that one of Boggs’s men could sneak up on them. He should be able to see by now. Joe had said the effects of a dazzler wore off in half an hour, tops. Had it been hours now since he’d run outside like an idiot and been flashed by that drone? Felt like it. He stumbled over something and swore.

  “Sorry,” Joe muttered and tightened his grip on Devin’s hand.

  Devin didn’t want to answer, so he squeezed Joe’s biceps with his free hand and kept his mouth shut. As dangerous as being out on the road was, running away had been their only choice. It had been bad enough being prostitutes, but yesterday morning, Boggs, that sick fuck, had been bent on punishing them for ruining his plans. He swore he’d force Joe to be his personal sex toy; he said he’d make Devin do the most perverted things for strangers while Joe watched. So yeah, they’d had to leave. Besides, Joe needed to find his father, and Devin intended to be there when he did.

  He slipped his hand inside Joe’s thin micro-poly jacket and traced the V-shaped cut on the outside of Joe’s elbow. It was already beginning to scab. Devin hated that Joe had chosen to cut himself, but Joe had wanted a scar, something to remind him of Victor’s sacrifice. Devin hated that, too.

  Joe’s steady pace wavered for a moment. He must be checking behind them.

  Even though it was pointless, Devin turned his head, and immediately wished he hadn’t. His stomach lurched. He wrapped his free hand around Joe’s arm again. “Anyone there?”

  “If someone was there, I’d tell you.”

  “Like you tell me other stuff?” The words jumped from Devin’s mouth and into the chilly night air before he thought them through. He understood why, back in Austin, Joe hadn’t told him Boggs had kidnapped the baby, that his lies had been to keep Devin safe, but it didn’t change the fact that Joe hadn’t trusted him. They could have figured out a solution together.

  “I tell you everything now,” Joe said.

  This wasn’t the time to get into it, so Devin let the statement slide. He wanted to prove he was more of a grown-up than Joe gave him credit for, and prioritizing his thoughts seemed like a smart way to do it. He needed to focus on the fact that a sick pervert psycho was hunting them.

  “How do you think he’ll try to find us?”

  Jo
e sighed. “Well, since the drone stopped moving, he’ll send someone to check on it. Once he finds out that we evaded it, I don’t know. I don’t think he’ll send anyone to chase us unless he has a good idea where we are.”

  “So we’re safe.”

  “He’ll guess we’re on the highway.”

  The resignation in Joe’s voice dashed Devin’s last shred of optimism. If Boggs sent men along the highway, he and Joe would be overtaken in no time. They were shuffling along at a snail’s pace, thanks to Devin’s blindness. They’d tried walking along the side roads and in the brush at first, but Devin had tripped over everything.

  “God damn it.” He didn’t want to be the reason they got caught. And now that the thought of being found had entered his brain, it was all he could think about. His nerves jangled. He listened for anything, but all he heard was their breathing and the sound of their feet as they dragged along. He felt for Joe’s cut again and rubbed it with his finger.

  “We’re coming up on a town,” Joe said. “That’ll make it easier to hide, but we have to watch out for other people.”

  Their first night on the run, a few people with tattered clothes and vacant eyes had come out in the dark, but they’d kept their distance. During his time at Flights of Fantasy, he’d learned that most people were reluctant to walk on the highway, considering it bad luck. Maybe the people in whatever town this was would feel the same way.

  To their right, someone yelled.

  Devin tightened his grip on Joe’s arm. Joe tensed but kept them moving forward. When a cry came again, closer, Joe whispered, “Sit tight,” and slipped from Devin’s grasp.

  Devin inhaled sharply and stopped moving, twice as blind without Joe’s guidance. He spread his arms and reached in every direction but found nothing. “Joe,” he whispered, afraid to make noise.

  The seconds stretched. Devin shuffled forward, not daring to move his feet off the ground, just sliding them along. Where was Joe? The noise of another human came again, and Devin turned in the opposite direction and started to walk. He’d taken four steps when he tripped and fell.