"You think you could have, I don't know, gotten a bicycle or something?" Kyle complained. "Would have made this trip faster. And less wet."
Lovely threw her bag over the top of the barbed wire fence surrounding the airport. Rain drenched her and the bag fell in mud on the other side with a splat. Kyle was dry, making his complaint fall flat. She sighed and ran her fingers along the fence until she found a pre-cut section, peeling it back to slip through. Afterward, she pushed the fence back into position—no need for someone to follow her. Or accidentally stumble across her not-so-secret entrance.
She could have walked around the tarmac to the front of the building, but she had wasted enough time already. And Kyle was getting on her nerves. The fact he knew what she was thinking and what she intended didn't help.
"So what, you're not going to talk to me now? You know that's the first sign that you might be going crazy," Kyle said.
"Yeah, that's the first sign," Lovely muttered under her breath.
"She speaks!" Kyle exclaimed.
"We're going inside," Lovely said, eyeing the tower.
"Figured that much. I know you're here to grab supplies, but why? This group in the North should have all we need. You saw Wheels' place!" Kyle exclaimed. So maybe he didn't know all of her intentions. "Not that I mind too much. At least you were smart enough not to bring Marybelle here."
"Would you shut up?" Lovely shouted, rearing around on Kyle.
But he wasn't there.
She was alone, standing halfway between the fence and the air traffic control tower, on a long strip of runway. She turned back to the tower and stomped through the puddles to the side entrance. Rifling through her bag, she pulled out a set of keys and inserted one into the lock. The door was heavy as she pulled it open, revealing a darkened stairwell. She stepped inside, the stairwell a symphony of pinging raindrops. It sounded oddly comforting as she started her ascent.
She was almost out of breath by the time she reached the top and wondered why she ever thought this would be a good idea while pregnant. She peeled back the barricade and entered her living area, careful to put it back when she was done. She wasn't afraid of N3s following her up the stairs—not that she had seen any recently—but of someone else following her. There were worse things out there.
"Still mad?" Kyle asked, appearing on the far side of the room, cowering from her.
"I'm not mad," Lovely replied, taking in the space she had called home over the winter.
"Right. You're not mad, but you're not talking to me," Kyle complained.
"I'm not talking to you because you're not there," Lovely replied.
"I take offence to that."
"I'm sorry," Lovely said, although she wasn't. Not yet, at least. She crossed the room to the consoles that lined the perimeter, radiating outward to match the 360 degree view.
"What're you doing?" Kyle asked. There was a hint of worry in his voice. That was good.
Lovely opened the access panel on the middle console and pulled out a duffel bag. She didn't have to, but she unzipped it anyway to confirm its contents: Kyle's clothes, his wallet, a picture of him. The only worldly possessions she had retrieved from the farmhouse. She felt a sting in the corner of her eyes when she looked at his picture.
"What're you gonna do with that?" Kyle asked again, his voice clipped and fast.
Lovely stuffed the picture back in the bag, zipped it up, and slung it over her shoulder. She kept Kyle out of her field of view as she stepped on the first rung of the ladder leading to the roof, but froze when she looked forward and saw Kyle standing on the other side.
"What're you gonna do with that?" He repeated, his eyebrows drawn. His eyes glistening.
Lovely huffed and climbed the ladder. It was easier than expected, although Kyle's pleading was not.
"C'mon, what do you think you're doin' climbin' up there? You're gonna get yourself hurt," Kyle continued.
"I'll be fine," Lovely replied as she went. She hadn't planned to reply, knowing it would egg him on, but couldn't help it. This would be easier if he didn't pop up at the most inopportune moments.
She unlocked the hatch at the top, a precaution in case the wind picked up enough to catch it, and pushed it open. A wash of water drenched her already wet clothes. That was to be expected with the rain and gravity and all.
She scurried out of the hatch and closed it to keep the remainder of her space dry. Then she rushed over to a makeshift tent that somehow kept its shape even in the strong wind. It was designed as a service area for the electronics inside, but she co-opted it for her own means. Mainly to protect the fuel and generator.
"This is why you came back here?" Kyle asked, incredulous, as he appeared beside the Jerry can that sat by the generator. "I hope the stuff in there has turned and doesn't ignite anymore."
Lovely swiped the Jerry can and carried it across the covered space. No need to risk potential damage to the generator. She put the bag down on the roof, sighed, and then drenched it with the gasoline.
"That's not smart, you know. You could burn the whole place down. In the least, smoke attracts attention."
"I don't plan on staying," Lovely said, before she caught herself again and zipped her mouth.
"I know you don't want to do this. You know you don't want to do this. So you shouldn't do it," Kyle pointed out.
Lovely pulled a book of matches out of her pocket but she couldn't bring herself to strike it. This was Kyle. Her Kyle. The man she loved. The man she still loves. But she needed to get him out of her head and the more she went to the spaces that reminded her of him—even though he never made it this far East when they were travelling together—the more she saw him. She couldn't deal with that anymore.
"Did I tell you you're gonna regret this? Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but—"Kyle stopped when flames engulfed the duffel bag. It crackled and popped and the rain threatened to drench it before the flames could consume it—but then it was done. The bag expanded for a second from the heated air and then contracted and fell in on itself.
"I hope you're happy," Kyle muttered.
"I didn't want it to end this away," Lovely replied. No harm in talking to him now.
He didn't respond, he just waved and walked off the edge of the roof. And then he was gone.
She had more to do here. She ensured the fire wouldn't spread and then returned to the main floor of her shelter by sliding down the ladder. She opened another one of the compartments and began stuffing the baby formula that was inside it into another duffel bag—she had spent so much time searching for it it would be a waste to let it rot there.
Then she went to the door, glancing back at her opened storage areas and smelling the tangy smoke from Kyle's belongings hanging in the air. Her eyes caught on her radio and she thought of Marybelle. She stalked over to it and flicked a switch to turn it on. Before she was able to grab the microphone, it crackled to life.
"This is High Priest, we have the package back inside," a random voice —not belonging to Wheels—sounded through the speaker, giving Lovely pause. It sounded strained, like the owner just finished a series of exercises.
"A little preoccupied," a voice responded, but it wasn't the words that bothered Lovely. It was the sound in the background. A constant popping. Gunfire.
"We are leaving now, join the convoy or make your own way back," the original voice said. She wished she knew where they were.
"We're pinned down outside the house, why didn't you say someone shot him when we got here?" the second voice asked. The gunfire louder now. Closer.
"You think I care about the old man? Frankie never liked Walther so it—" the radio cut to silence, or at least as much silence as a layer of snowy interference could make.
"Shit," Lovely said. There couldn't have been that many Walther's around, especially ones getting in firefights. Or losing them. She switched the channel to the one Marybelle had designated for her.
"Marybelle?" she asked. She stamped her foot, as if that would speed up a reply.
"Oh thank god," Marybelle's voice was exasperated and tired. "You're alive."
"Of course," Lovely replied.
"Frankie just declared all out war on The City, or at least it was close enough to not to make a difference," Marybelle said.
"And they're at this Walther guys house?" Lovely asked. She hoped she misheard them.
"Sounds like it," Marybelle said, confirming her fears. She didn't sound as worried as she should.
"I'm going there," Lovely said, surprising even herself with the admission.
"You're what? You're in no position to do that!" Marybelle countered.
"What do you propose then?" Lovely challenged.
"We hit Frankie where it hurts. In his town. While he's away," Marybelle said.
Her plan made sense. With Frankie and his escort gone, the town would be lightly fortified at best. Even then, they would be badly outnumbered.
"I need to know if Walther is OK," Lovely said. She needed to know she hadn't just abandoned Kyle for nothing.
"Fine," Marybelle replied, resigned. "I'll go to Frankie's alone, you go check on Walther. Divide and conquer."
"Or something like that," Lovely replied.
"Good luck," Marybelle said after a long pause. "When you're done you should come find me."
Lovely paused as well, taking in a lungful of air. "I hope so. See you soon."