“As I recall, madam,” came Doc’s calm tones from his end of the table, “the boy’s father was discussing that very same subject a few weeks back.” Doc paused to chew another mouthful of the cooked fish he’d been forking into his mouth while placidly observing the altercation between Dean and Shauna.
“What? About being chilled?” Shauna twisted Dean’s ear again to emphasize her point. The boy involuntarily raised himself from his seat, attempting to keep the pain under control.
“No. About manners. Dean is young, a mere slip of a man just on the cusp of his teenage years. I assure you he means no disrespect to you, our host, or to the unfortunate Dwellers. The boy has lost a woman he loved as a mother and a longtime friend in the span of one stormy night. Any words out of his mouth right now are to be viewed as suspect. I suggest he’s transposing his own anger at their perishing, and his emotional anguish, into aggression at yourself.”
Doc’s blue eyes misted up when speaking of Krysty and Jak. He took out his swallow’s-eye kerchief and dabbed at his forehead and cheeks. “Emotional anguish that each of us you rescued is still trying to cope with in our own private ways.”
Shauna pondered that, still keeping a white-knuckled grip on Dean’s aching ear.
“You make good sense, Tanner. You said you were a doctor, but not a med guy. What, you a head-shrinker or something?”
“I?” Doc boomed, sounding offended. “My degree is in philosophy, my dear, and in philosophy, men have found answers to the questions that plague them for thousands of years. My wisdom comes from the words and teachings of the ancients, along with a healthy dose of education I’ve been exposed to while traversing these so quaintly—and so accurately— named Deathlands.”
Shauna chuckled at that, and released her grip on Dean’s earlobe. The boy slumped in his chair sullenly, rubbing the sore spot where her fingers had twisted the sensitive cartilage. His skinny arms crossed in over his chest in an unconscious protective position.
“Okay, Dr. Tanner, we’ll let this one go. I haven’t had to deal personally with a boy child in a long time, and I’ve forgotten how mouthy they can be. I’m still hoping we can convince your group to hang with us. We need warriors if we’re ever going to get out from under Admiral Poseidon’s thumb. I won’t speak of it to Cawdor if you won’t.”
“My lips are sealed. As for Dean’s…” Doc trailed off, leaving the boy an opening.
Dean stared up at Shauna. “Doc says nothing happened, I say nothing happened.”
“Damn, but you are your father’s son,” she commented, and left the way she came.
“Thanks for the assist, Doc,” Dean said. “My ear feels like she twisted it plumb off my skull.”
“There was never any reason for you to fear, young Cawdor,” Doc said, and suddenly, like a razor-edged jack-in-the-box, the cutting blade hidden within his walking stick sprang out from a secure and hidden place beneath the table. “Had she continued to press the issue, I would have been forced to sever her offending appendage at the wrist.”
Doc returned the blade to its proper place and dropped his swordstick back into his lap.
“Now, be a good boy and please pass that bowl of potatoes. I must address my starch deficiency.”
RYAN LOOKED DOWN at the colors of the coastline below him, the vibrant hues of the ocean and the dusky tones of the land, dotted with sporadic growth of forest and upheavals of rock, and knew in the bottom of his soul that any other time, he would have allowed himself to enjoy the sight. This part of Georgia seemed to have escaped the utter devastation other sections of the United States had endured. Krysty would have liked it. She liked any natural spot that was unblemished.
At his side were J.B. and Mildred, along with their long-haired guide, Alan Carter. They all stood at the top of a one-hundred-foot observation tower built of wood and metal.
“There’s two ways they can come,” Carter said, pointing as he spoke. “One by land, one by sea. If they cruise up in one of his yachts, we know Poseidon himself is aboard. Supposedly he rarely steps onto dry land. Prefers the feel of the ocean beneath his feet We joke he’s part Dweller.”