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’ Mathilda, red hair glinting in the sunlight, grunted. ‘What promising information you give me all the time.’ ‘Well, I’ve got to keep you positive,’ Kaden said to her friend. Without Mathilda, Kaden would have been become a completely different person. She knew this and so was eternally grateful for the meeting of the two of them. Before, she’d been forlorn, neither surly nor cheerful, neither happy nor sad and had lived her life with a slight despondency and vacancy. She’d had friends, even a supposed best friend but no one came close to Mathilda. Mathilda brought out the laughter in Kaden, she brought out the life in her. ‘Oh, my God, Kaden,’ her friend suddenly said, grabbing her arm so tight that Kaden’s hand immediately flew to her back pocket where she held her knife. Kaden looked around, trying to spot the infected being but instead, saw Charlie walking with Alanna, the daughter of an engineer who set up their tent next to Mathilda’s. ‘It’s Charlie!’ Mathilda hissed.. ”The truck door swings open, a booted foot is planted on the step and a strong arm swings me up into the cab. I’m enveloped in man-scent. Not nasty, just the distinctively rich thick scent of Man. He juggles me around the huge steering wheel and various other pieces of equipment before depositing me on a seat to his right. He turns on a low, purplish under-dash light and examines what he has hauled in from the night. “Y’all kin call me Thad” he introduces himself. “From Sugar Hill, Georgia.” And I’m Honey-Lee from Punta Gorda, Florida I counter. “Right proud to meetcha’ll. Honey-Lee from Punta Gorda. But what in tarnation y’all doin’ wandrin’ amongst the wheelers in the middle of the night?”I spill my tale of a boyfriend snatched away by shadowy oil barons, criminal dikes at a rest haven, my sabotaged beloved Toyota, my stolen ID and credit cards and my fear of the dikes now patrolling the parking lot for me, for reasons I can only guess and fear. I don’t forget to spill a.
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