They Will Run You Down

Eighteen: Hairpin-Trigger

John decided not to press Harley for answers and Harley seemed content to pretend the whole ordeal had never happened. If, or when she was prepared to share her story, he would be there to listen, but he wouldn't pry it out of her.

The pair made their way back to Robby's house to find Edvin waiting. Robby had gone back to the market to help people pack up the chairs and tables, and what little was left of their goods.

"I bought liquor," Edvin smiled, "I thought you two might need it after today"

"Thanks, but I'm not sure that's a good idea," John replied.

Harley paced over to the kitchen table where a few bottles of wine and two jugs of beer sat, "It's a great idea," she argued as she picked up a bottle of moscato.

Edvin beamed as he pulled a glass out of the cupboard for her.

John furrowed his brow, "Harley, you just finished a round of antibiotics"

"It's been forty-eight hours. She's in the clear. Now you two go relax and have a drink while I cook supper," Edvin insisted.

John wasn't as worried about the antibiotics as he was about Harley's emotional state after seeing the family who knew her as kid. There was a bad history there and he worried about how it might manifest itself in Harley when she was under the influence. He decided he would avoid any drinks himself so he could watch over her with a clear head.

Before pouring her first drink, Harley prepared Rebel's supper. She pet him gently and doted over him while he ate, but she seemed utterly detached and lost in thought.

When her pup was fed and happy and ready for nap, Harley filled her glass to the brim and gulped most of it down in one shot, then topped it up again. It was pretty obvious to John that she was trying to numb herself. She sat on the love seat with her knees tucked into her chest and chewed on her nails between big sips of wine, eyes glazed over and focused on nothing in particular.

"Harley, maybe you should take it easy on the drinks, yeah?" He cautioned.

Edvin popped his head around the corner, "She deserves a night of fun, John. Loosen up"

John ground his teeth and glared at Edvin. The man knew nothing about Harley, nor did he seem to care. He was only interested in impressing her and getting on her good side. A side with which John himself had barely even seen.

Angered, John stood from the sofa and walked into the kitchen to face Edvin, "Look," he spoke quietly, "I get that you're trying to be chummy with her but today isn't the day to encourage her to drown herself in liquor"

"Relax, John," Harley cut in as she appeared from living room, wine glass in hand, "I'm fine"

Edvin smirked, "See, she's good"

Harley padded into the kitchen, put her glass down and hoisted herself up on to counter top, using it as a seat, "What are you cooking?"

"Spaghetti," Edvin replied as he stirred a steaming pot above the cooktop.

John took a breath. He had to remind himself that Harley was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She had, after all, survived the apocalypse.

"Hope you like Spaghetti," Edvin confessed, glancing between the boiling pot and Harley.

She knocked back her glass of wine quickly and shrugged her shoulders, "It's not from a can. I'm happy"

"Touché," Edvin replied with a smile.

"You have a weird accent. Where are you from?" Harley questioned curiously.

Edvin snorted at Harley's effortless honesty, "I was born in Sweden but moved to Canada when I was thirteen"