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The only warning I got was a bullet tearing into the brick two inches from my head. Of course, that was the standard “welcome to raider territory” greeting, as timeless as a muffin basket.
I dove to the side, behind the cover of a rusted car frame. “We’ve got some buddies, Deacon!”
As usual, he’d fallen behind. Out of all the people who accompanied me, I wasn’t sure any aggravated me as much as that spy. He seemed to go missing all the time, and I wasn’t sure anything broke my concentration more than that screech he made during fighting when he’d claim to have a splinter.
I aimed at the group of raiders across the street and fired. “Come on, D! You don’t get out here, I swear I’ll tell Tinker Tom you were eating food.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” he called from somewhere around the corner. “Just give me a second.”
“No. Now or Tom’s going to insist on probing you, and don’t think I won’t let him do it.”
Deacon cursed and came charging around the corner, rifle in his hands.
Wearing nothing but his underwear.
“What the fuck? Where are your clothes?”
“I was busy changing!” He ducked behind the car beside me, pale skin catching the light. “You’re the one who threatened me with probing if I didn’t come help right now. Couldn’t wait even a minute for me to make myself all pretty?”
“What are you doing changing in the middle of the city?” I pulled the pin on a grenade and hefted it over the car. “You don’t think strolling the streets in your tighty-whities might be a bad idea?”
“I wasn’t strolling. Besides, I’d been wearing that last costume for a few hours. I HAD to change. How was I supposed to know we’d be attacked exactly now?”
The explosion from the grenade shook the car, but at least the bullets had stopped. Must have gotten the raiders. It didn’t pause our conversation, though.
“We’re in raider territory; we're always getting attacked! You couldn’t wait another hour or two? You know, I never have this problem with Nick. He’s never once strolled around a corner in his underwear. “
“That’s because he can’t fill them out like I do.” Deacon stood, resting his rifled up on his shoulder, posing like an old renaissance statue. “Besides, you’re the first woman to complain about me in my underwear.”
“They’re probably not getting shot at!”
“Well-“
“Not another word, or I swear I’ll cut off something you can’t have swapped.”
A bullet struck the car to my left, and I tore my gaze away from the trainwreck that was the spy to spot one last raider, bleeding but dumb enough to think he had a chance. Deacon swung his rifle around and landed a single shot between the raiders eyes, then strutted away. “You’re welcome. Now, I’m going to go find some pants.”
I cursed as I watched his pasty ass disappear around the corner.
I really needed to get Nick back.