Free Forager by Peter R. Stone Page A

as it looked quite valuable, she would want it back.
    "Ethan, I've been thinking about yesterday, and something bothers me," Michal said when we finished eating.
    "Go on."
    "Excluding yesterday, we've fought Skel, what, four times in two years? Three of those times were in the middle or outer eastern suburbs, and there's never been more than three or four of them. So, have there been other occasions where you’ve 'detected' Skel and steered us away from them?"
    Michal was on the ball all right. The times we fought Skel was when they tried to jump us while we were in the act of stripping out a place. "Yes, on several occasions. And to pre-empt your next question, it was normally in the outer eastern suburbs."
    Michal met my gaze. "So why were there twelve yesterday, and practically on Newhome's doorstep?"
    "I’ve been pondering the same thing. I hope it was just a one off, but life is never that simple, is it?"
    Glancing at the other three sitting on the truck's cab, Michal indicated Leigh, who was staring into space with a dreamy expression.
    "What's up, Leigh?” I called out. “Never seen you this quiet before – can’t find something to grumble about?"
    "Leigh's been doing something lately that he shouldn’t be," David answered somewhat testily.
    "Like what?" I asked, curious. Whatever Leigh was doing, David was green with envy.
    "You don't want to know, Jones," Shorty said with a giant smirk, before adding in a whisper, "but he's not a model citizen these days."
    "Please don't do anything stupid, Leigh," I implored.
    "Too late for that!" Shorty laughed.
    "Keep your voices down, you drongos!" Leigh hissed.
    I grabbed his forearm and made eye contact. “I don’t know what this is about, Leigh, and I don’t want to, but whatever you're doing, cut it out before it’s too late. You hear me?”
    “Whatever!” he snapped back.
    I don’t think my message got through to him, so I gave up and jumped down to stretch. "Let's get back to it, guys. We don't want the Custodians keeping tabs on the length of our lunch breaks."
     
     

Chapter Eight
     
    I got to work a bit earlier the following morning as I was secretly hoping Nanako would bring me lunch again. Not because of the meal, but because I wanted to see her. She was the first thought on my mind when I woke, and I couldn’t deny my interest in her.
    These desires, however, confused me. What was I hoping to achieve by seeing her again? She would return to Hamamachi with Councillor Okada soon and that would be the end of it.
    I had read about romance in novels I found in the ruins of Melbourne, but it hadn’t ever occurred to me that I might experience it myself. All marriages in Newhome were arranged by the children's fathers and were typically devoid of romantic love.
    My teammates were already in the Recycling-Works yard, lounging against the truck as they waited for me. Sergeant King and his squad were there too, talking quietly amongst themselves, their box-shaped Bushmaster parked near our truck.
    "Hey Jones, you wet the bed or something?" Shorty teased.
    "What?"
    "You've never been here before nine o'clock before," Leigh said.
    "First time for everything," I laughed as I joined them. However, I wasn’t really listening. I was straining my ears in the hope of hearing Nanako’s small footsteps. 
    And then I heard them, coming down the street as she and Councillor Okada approached the Recycling-Works. A moment later, they stepped into the yard, the obento lunchbox cradled carefully in her arms.
    I stepped towards her, eagerly anticipating the chance to speak with her again. I had taken only a few steps when a Custodian G-Wagon roared down the street and with a screech of brakes, came to a halt in the yard. Three Custodians leaped out, readied their semi-automatic rifles, and headed straight for us.
    Nanako and Councillor Okada stepped quickly back into the shadows of the gate. I moved back towards my teammates, my face white with terror. Surely this was it