The Restoration Project

4.03 - Plain-Faced Charley

A rain drop splashed the map in Charley's hands. She folded it and stuffed it back in her pocket.

"You sure this is the right place?" Righty asked, leaning against a tree beside her.

Charley brought a pair of binoculars up to her eyes and gazed across a rolling field. On the other side was a farmhouse, in as accurate a spot as the Junkie could mark it on her map. There was no certainty it was the right house, but something felt good about it. Even though it looked empty, it didn't look abandoned.

"You think he can make it?" Charley asked, pointed to Skillet. Rousing him in the morning was tough and he hadn't said a word since, just the occasional grunt. It made it all the more surprising when he responded.

"I'm fine," Skillet muttered. His voice was quiet, sapped of power. "I just need another shot. Another shot will help." He pushed himself to his feet and stabilized himself against Righty.

"You need something, that's for sure," Righty said, scrunching his nose. "A shower would be nice for starters."

"Another shot will just make it worse," Charley told Skillet. "This stuff isn't supposed to make you feel better and you don't want to overdose on it."

Skillet grumbled. More rain drops fell and the darkening clouds promised a torrent soon. Charley let the binoculars fall back down to her chest. She was overladen with the supply bag and the credits they stole, but it wasn't like Righty or Skillet were in any shape to help carry them.

"You really think we should head there, you know, together?" Righty asked.

"We've got nothing to hide—"

"—We have a soon to be Baldy leaning against my shoulder," Righty pointed out.

In defiance of his words, Skillet pushed himself off Righty's shoulder and staggered forward. "I said I'm fine."

"You're right, Righty. We need to leave the guns here," Charley ordered and opened the duffel bag of their supplies.

"Wait, I wasn't talkin' about that," Righty protested.

"Three people showing up at his door with weapons might send the wrong message," Charley said and, to lead by example, took the pistol out of her hip holster and dropped it in the bag.

"We're just going to leave everything here?" Righty asked.

"You think anyone's gonna steal it?" Charley pointed out. They were at least an hour hike from the pharmacy and they hadn't seen another person this morning.

Righty sighed and handed her his rifle. Skillet pulled a pistol out of the waistband of his jeans. Charley bent down and zipped up the duffel bag, dropping it at the trunk of a big tree. One less thing to carry, at least.

"I still think that's a stupid idea," Righty said, staring longingly at the bag.

"Good thing you're not the one that came up with it then," Charley said as she started the trek across the field. There were fields on three sides of the house, with a brush leading into its backyard, right beside a barn and a shed. As they neared the house she spoke again, "You guys keep your mouths shut and let me do the talkin' when we get there. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure boss," Righty said.

"Mmhmm," Skillet mumbled.

"Think anyone's even home?" Righty asked.

Charley shrugged. She didn't think so, although when she scanned the windows on the near side of the house she hoped to spot movement. But there was nothing. She took another step forward when Skillet's hand shot out and grabbed the back of her shirt, yanking her backward. "Hey! Don't do that!"