Free Unthinkable (Berger Series) by Merinda Brayfield

struggled against Damien.
    “You didn’t tell us he was one of those,” said Andy, nodding at Evan.
    “He’s cool man. He’s from Minnesota, not Baghdad. Just let him go."
    Andy looked from Damien to Evan to Yoshi and back to Damien. “Fine, let him go,” he said. The man let go and Evan stepped next to Yoshi with a glare. Damien let go and Yoshi jerked himself away. Evan realized Yoshi was shaking.
    Andy harrumphed and looked at the trio. “What are you doing here, Damien? And why did you bring these idiots with you?” Yoshi sucked in his breath.
    “I was just traveling. This seemed as good a place to stop as any. ‘Sides, these two needed a sitter,” said Damien.
    “A sitter?” exploded Yoshi. Evan grabbed his arm. “We don’t need you or anyone else.” He poked his free hand into Damien’s chest. Damien put his hands up.
    “Yosh, it’s okay…” Evan tugged on his arm.
    “No Evan,” Yoshi turned. “We should never have…”
    “Yoshi?” Damien interrupted, touching Yoshi’s arm.
    “What?” Yoshi pulled himself free of Evan and away from everyone.
    “I’m sorry, man. Look, they’re serving dinner here, why don’t you get something to eat and then ya’ll can leave,” said Damien
    Yoshi took another step back and looked from Damien to Evan. He shook his head. “Dinner…okay, fine.”
    Damien pointedly handed the shotgun back to Evan.
    “Now wait…” started Andy.
    “I gotta gun, you gotta gun, Yoshi’s gotta gun,” he said, looking at Andy. Evan cradled the shotgun, surprised at how glad he was to hold it. After a tense moment Andy led them behind the school bus, followed by his men.
    The town looked like any other small town in the middle of nowhere. A few building hunched up against the paved main street, with gravel roads leading to other buildings behind. An American flag flew over the town hall and an ancient cannon rusted in front of the VFW opposite it. Andy led them into the VFW. The place was crowded with people talking over steaming plates of food. Evan’s stomach growled at the smell. People glanced up when they entered, then openly stared. Evan would have turned around, but his feet had other ideas and he made his way to the buffet line. Yoshi stood behind him, tense.
    “We could just leave,” said Yoshi in his ear.
    “A good meal,” said Evan, “We’ll have one good meal and then we’ll go.”
    “We should go now, they don’t want us here.”
    “Maybe they’ll even have somewhere we can sleep, in a bed,” Evan ignored Yoshi and filled his plate. Holding the plate in one hand and the shotgun in the other he found a table in the corner. Evan leaned the gun against the wall and slipped off his pack before sitting down. Yoshi sat down with his back to the wall. Damien had vanished into the crowd. People still glanced their way, but most of them went back to their food. Evan forced himself to eat slowly and enjoy every bite. As he finished he scratched his chin and mumbled.
    “What?” asked Yoshi.
    “This beard,” said Evan, “I’ve never had one before and I know it makes me look all the more like the terrorist they think I am.”
    “What, the end of the world is supposed to come with grooming? That only happens in the movies.” Yoshi scratched his own hairy chin.
    “That beard is bringing out the Irish in you,” Evan said.
    “I’m getting red hairs? Figures my dad would be showing up at a time like this.” A shadow passed in Yoshi’s eyes, quickly gone. “If every guy with a beard is a terrorist,” he smiled, “then we’re all in a lot of trouble.”
    “You know what I meant.” Evan smiled at the sudden appearance of the old Yoshi. “Hey, who knows, maybe these folks even have a way to bathe.”
    “See, that’s why they keep looking at us, it’s not the beard, it’s the odor wafting their direction.”
    “That’s disgusting,” Evan made a face.
    “And probably true,” Yoshi leaned back and smiled, the smile at last, reaching his