Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“I’m just… bored, I guess. Aren’t you bored?”
By the time Amon and I got to the compound Ryan and Nash had already unloaded all the weapons and were in the process of arranging them neatly onto pegboards and shelves in the bunker.
We don’t have any furniture, just our duffels. And the only other thing we brought with us was the armored truck. So there’s no unpacking to be done. I mean, I guess I could hang up my t-shirts, but they’re just as usable folded neatly away inside my bag.
“How can you be bored? Isn’t your place a mess?”
I shrug. “It’s… whatever. I got a sleeping bag.”
“Well, I’m not a heathen. I like a clean house.”
“Since when?”
“Since now. I’m a homeowner, Collin. I’m responsible for this place.”
He says this with the most serious face, so I can’t tell if he’s joking or not. “Are you gonna start cooking too? Are you taking on new clients? How much do you charge an hour? I’m looking for a maid.”
“Fuck off.” He goes back to sweeping.
I’m kinda jealous of his kitchen. Turquoise and black is a little bit badass.
He stops his sweeping to side-eye me. “Why don’t you go shopping?”
“Shopping for what?”
He pauses his sweeping to stare at me. “Dude. Are you gonna eat MRE’s too?”
“Oh, food.”
“What did you think I meant?” He’s laughing at me now.
“Couches?”
Now he’s guffawing. “You’re hilarious. Go grab some lunch then. Not fast food. I’ve eaten enough fucking crap these past few years to last me a lifetime. I’ll call in an order at the inn in Bishop. You go pick it up. What do you want?”
“What do they have these days?”
“Same shit they’ve always had, Collin. This is Trinity County. Nothin’ ever changes. Burgers, spaghetti, pizza, meatloaf. Just pick something.”
“Steak, then. Medium rare. And baked potato.”
“Salad?”
“Sure.” I point at him. “With ranch. No onions.”
“No one puts onions in a house salad, Collin.”
“I just like to make sure.”
He’s shaking his head as he takes out his phone. “Go. I’ll order and it’ll be ready by the time you get there.”
I let out a long breath, then throw up my hands. What the hell. If I’m driving at least I won’t be bored all by myself in an empty house.
Bishop is a curious place if you’re not from around these parts. It’s got a historic district right smack in the middle of town that’s cordoned off and no modern modes of transportation are permitted, just the ol’ horse and buggy.
Authentically restored to 1700’s specifications, it’s a lot like Colonial Williamsburg—in fact, that’s what it’s modeled after—but on a much smaller scale.
It’s about four blocks wide on all sides and the whole downtown is nothing but people in old-timey costumes, peasants tending to pigs and chickens, and time-period-appropriate businesses like a blacksmith’s, the general store, and the Pineapple Pub.
The Bishop Inn in Bishop has been in business longer than I’ve been alive. It’s not technically inside the historical zone, but it is right on the edge. So if you’re coming to do the whole Trinity County thing, it’s a nice place to stay and it’s close to everything.
The Bishop Inn was a once-a-week thing for my family when I was a kid. Every Sunday we’d go for brunch. And after I was done eating, I’d take Olive out back to the gardens so my mama could sip her mimosas and my daddy could read the paper. I started doing that as soon as she could walk. We were close when she was really small like that. But that’s because I was still basically a kid and playing hide-and-seek wasn’t a distant memory yet.
That was every Sunday morning until I was almost sixteen. And by that time Olive was in school and too big to play hide-and-seek because the hedges were only four feet tall.
I smile thinking about those days. I had no idea that in just two short years my whole life would be flipped upside down and it would stay that way forever.
I am going to be this guy forever.
Even after all these years the Bishop Inn mostly looks the same when I enter the foyer and wait for my turn to talk to Jessica. It’s bustlin’, and busy, and packed with people. Jessica looks a little flustered.
It kinda surprises me that she’s still here. It also surprises me that I remember her name.
She finishes with the people in front of me and she’s still looking down at her book when they move along and I step up, so I catch her full reaction when we finally lock eyes. She starts to say, “Hi, how can I help—”
But that’s as far as she gets.
There are about five seconds of awkward silence and then she lets out a breath. “Collin. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Yup. I’m back.” I shrug, not sure I owe her an explanation, but also not sure I don’t. “I’m picking up food. Amon called it in.”