"A reading list?" Shilloh said, eyeing the paper skeptically.

  "Well, I wouldn't call it that, Deary," Agnes replied. "But it's hard to have a book club without us all reading the same books. Look, you can even choose the first!"

  "Thank you, but I feel like even the titles of these books would need to be blurred."

  She was with Birch and Agnes, leaning against a trailer with more suspension than an insecure man's pickup truck. Most of the caravan consisted of large all-terrain vehicles. They were beefy and robust without being big; something that could haul fallen trees off a road but also fit in narrow spaces if the trail demanded it.

  The caravan included vehicles that had been largely hollowed out for storage, as well as special all-terrain trailers designed to follow behind them. Including caravan workers, guards, and more than a dozen passengers, this was a big group.

  Inevitably, people would find their favorite vehicle and travel companions. Birch, who had used this caravan before, took them to a big-ass monster-jeep lookin' thing. They would all be camping in their own tents during the night, but thanks to Birch, they had managed to call dibs on a prime vehicle during the day.

  The short, crazy woman was off trying to bribe and annoy someone in charge so their bags could stay in the suped-up jeep with them instead of going into the luggage trailer.

  Apparently, wise people avoided leaving their things with the rest of the passenger luggage. There was more theft and less priority in a crypto attack. That trailer was one of the first things they would jettison in an emergency.

  "Agnes," Shilloh said, thinking of the book Nick had suggested for her," I appreciate the gesture, but this isn't what I meant when I said I was finally getting back into reading."

  "What do you mean?"

  She chewed the inside of her lip and tried to find a polite way to phrase what she was thinking. Unfortunately, her eyes ended up roaming down the titles. The list included high works of art like "Pounded by My Step-Brother, the Sleep Paralysis Demon," or "Ref Sent Me to the FUNishment Box: Sin on Ice, a Hockey Story," and other titles that seared images into her mind that furthered her distrust of the entire male population. Also, since she was reading the list while talking to someone who looked like the grandmother from a sappy Christmas movie, even reading the titles made her feel ashamed.

  "I mean," Shilloh stammered," I appreciate the effort, and you're right, having other people involved would help kick start a habit, but…"

  "Yes?"

  She folded the list and started power walking away. "But we should check in on Birch."

  Agnes kept up, eyeglasses bouncing on their brightly beaded loop as she followed. "Honey, I think you're evading. I'm not precious about my reading; you can tell me the truth."

  "It's just a bit much for me, Agnes. I'm barely back into reading romance novels, let alone things that seem like they're almost entirely focused on," she glanced around, seeing a few rough and tumble caravan workers bustling around with boxes, luggage, and the occasional weapons. She leaned in and whispered. "Well, just focused on highly specific, niche kinky sex."

  "Kinky sex! That?" Agnes cried, bursting into a peal of laughter.

  Everyone stopped and stared at the puffy-haired old woman.

  Shilloh's cheeks heated, and she started walking even faster. Dammit, she was the one who teased people, not the other way around!

  "Shilloh! Wait!"

  She sped up.

  Unfortunately, that meant Agnes had to raise her voice to be heard. “I’m sorry, hun! It's just that I don't consider a little butt play and nipple clamps to be particularly kinky. I mean, none of those books on your list even look at things like snowballing or—"

  Before the adorable older woman could say another word, Shilloh had wheeled around and lunged back towards Agnes.

  "SHHHHH! Don't say things like that in public."

  Anges blinked a few times and looked around before leaning in with a puzzled look, "I'm sorry, but why? I don't see any children around."

  "Because," she hissed in her most forceful whisper, "that is private talk, about private activities."

  Agnes pursed her lips and tapped her feet, clearly struggling with something. "Alright, let's set aside the question of why you think any of those things shouldn't be done in front of a crowd of consenting adults. If this isn't just you playing around, then I will obviously respect your boundaries. But I do feel like it's the role of the elders to help normalize things when they realize their generation perpetuated a damaging view of it."

  So many thoughts went through her mind. It was hard to pick one thing to voice. "You mean you're actually trying to be overheard?"

  "Absolutely! I need to normalize sex! It is healthy and natural. Plus, this makes it much easier to find a play partner with similar values."

  Shilloh slapped both hands to her face. "Stop."

  "What?"

  "Don't you have a boyfriend who you just pulled out of his cradle?"

  "Well, I'd call him more of a 'boy toy' if we had to put a label on it."

  Shilloh groaned and started walking again, "I was hoping you were just talking too loud to get even with me."

  "About the disappearing act after a disaster?"

  "Yeah."

  "Public shaming as a punishment is a horrible thing," the older woman said, her hands gripping her purse so tightly that Shilloh could hear the creak of leather. "I refuse to shame someone as a way of forcing them to conform to my worldview. The people who use that tool are monsters."

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  "I hit a nerve?"

  Agnes gave her a hard little smile, "Yes. But it's not your fault. And, honestly, it's something I'm sure we can talk about over drinks after our first book club meeting." The older woman winked and did a little shuffle so she could bump her hip into Shilloh's as they walked.

  Shilloh just shook her head. Maybe she could hold off on Nick's book suggestions for a while yet. It was important to pick your battles.

  ~~~

  The two of them asked around and eventually found a lead on where Birch had gone.

  Not far from the head of the caravan, they saw her step out of a little canvas tent just before people came to break it down. She was talking to a tall man with a messy beard, oversized clothes, and gorgeous eyelashes that were only barely thinner than the haze of brown hair on his forearms.

  She and Agnes called out to their impish friend.

  Both Birch and the man she had been talking to jumped a little. The two's eyes fell back on each other.

  If Shilloh hadn't been watching closely, she would have missed it. Birch gave the man a slight shake of her head and palmed something before giving him a massive, arm-pumping, two-handed politician's handshake.

  When she let go, her hand was empty.

  Before Shilloh had time to process what had happened, Birch had her arms wrapped around the two women.

  "So," her short friend chirped, "have we decided on the first book? There are only two copies of each, but I'm sure we can take turns throughout the day."

  "Well, Candy, I was talking to Shilloh, and we think our original list might be targeted towards those who have read long enough to already have a more discerning taste."

  "But you said this was an excellent primer if I wanted to be a Woman of Culture?"

  "It is, but we should be accommodating. Shilloh has just gotten back into reading."

  "Yes," Shilloh interjected, "and I'm enjoying a bit of smut, but some of these books like Ass Blasters from Outer Space are a bit much for me. I still need at least a thin veneer of plot over my porn. Otherwise it's just too—"

  "Aspirational?" interrupted Birch.

  "Too likely to make you flick the bean till you've got a sore hoo-haw?" asked Anges before Shilloh had a chance to respond.

  "No! I am not aroused by the idea of an alien I don't know sticking something up my bum. And, Birch, the only aspirational books for me right now are true crime novels about how to kill someone in a caravan and hide their body in the same grave as their professional basketball dreams."

  Agnes stopped walking and put her hands on her hips, staring at both of them, "Now let's keep short jokes out of it; they're unkind. Also, I should note that the whole point of the books is to feel like you know the alien engaging in butt play. Regardless, the main point is kindness. Let's not be unkind to either Birch or our delightful alien friends."

  "Actually," Birch said with an evil grin, "I have an idea. Why don't we make this more approachable for Shilloh?"

  "I like the sound of that," said Agnes.

  "I hate the sound of that," Shilloh muttered, seeing a trace of the devil in her friend's grin.

  "Perfect! Agnes, my dear, my heart, my north star. Do you know any good smutty novels about Weres?"

  "Of course! Why didn't I think of that? How about weres who work as Banes and—"

  Desperately, Shilloh cast around for any excuse to end either the conversation or her life if no excuses were forthcoming.

  Something caught her eye, and she found herself doing something she never would have expected.

  "Jasque! Friend! Buddy! How are you doing?"

  The dark-haired man had been passing by with a few well-worn canvas bags in tow. He had on a pair of very snug jeans, a black button-down shirt that he was trying to button only insofar as it could be done without obstructing the view of his sternum. Add in a fashionable haircut, and he seemed dark, fit, dangerous, and very, very male.

  He was also an absolute, dead-eyed ass-hat who she wanted to tattoo using a toothpick instead of a needle and lemon juice mixed with extra-strength tetanus rust powder instead of ink.

  Still, it was better than nothing, so she speed walked away from the two perverts and gave Jasque a handshake that was just a bit too energetic.

  "Shilloh? Great to see you!" He said, smiling like an actor trying too hard on their close-up.

  "Yeah, good to see you too. I was just, uh, looking for you."

  "Oh really? But first, please forgive me, I don't remember the names of your two friends."

  Anges and Birch had joined them, Birch far too happy about having made her run, and their older friend eyeing Jasque up like she either wanted to knit him a sweater or tie up a harness that would suspend him in a compromising position: it was hard to tell the difference with Agnes.

  They went through introductions. Before she could move the conversation to a more PG space, Birch jumped in.

  "It's good to see you again! We were just talking about a book club for the long trip." Shilloh glared and tried to mouth the word 'no' but her short friend powered through." I don't suppose you have any suggestions?"

  "Trip? Are you going to be part of the caravan as well?"

  "Yes, we are," Birch said, putting her hands on her hips. "Are you the reason the caravan has added on all that Appalachian bullshit onto the stops?"

  "Yes," he said, putting on his greasiest grin. "Anything to spend extra time with you."

  The short woman snorted, uninterested. "How sweet. I don't suppose you would like to join our book club, would you? We were just talking about switching the roster."

  "That's kind, but I'm afraid I don't have time for much leisure reading. Banes tend to be very busy on caravans like this," he leaned in, whispering conspiratorially. "We get discounts if we help with security. But! I actually did grab some books for you, Shilloh. I remember what you said about The Book of Five Rings and thought these might be interesting. It'll definitely help your interview."

  He handed her two books. She looked down at them. They were an old copy of the Book of Five Rings, as well as a well-worn edition of The Art of War. Even looking at them made her sleepy.

  The last couple of weeks had been terrible. Every part of her wanted to be in bed with no pants on. But, at the same time, whenever she stopped moving, she felt a spike of anxiety that told her she had forgotten something important.

  She was just about to thank Jasque in a way that did not obligate her to read anything when Birch jumped in.

  "Thank you."

  "Of course, I'm also happy to tell you which duty stations are best."

  "Wait," Birch whipped around with an expression of affronted horror. "You'll have to relocate? I thought you said you weren't going to!"

  "I never said that. I said that I had no current plans to move."

  "Fuck that noise. I just found you, I'm not just having you run off right after I hung out of a car window to save your ass."

  Shilloh narrowed her eyes, embarrassment falling away, "You will not hold that over my head. It's not fair."

  "Chill out, I'm not manipulating you. I'm just not letting you make dumb choices or get taken advantage of after all the work I put in. This whole thing stinks. You're going to show me this NDA right now, and we're getting to the bottom of this."

  Shilloh's pulse picked up, and it was all she could do not to glance at Jasque. "Didn't we just put this whole pushy business to bed?"

  "We let it rest, we did not put it to rest."

  "Then consider it put to rest. Dead as a doornail. This is not yours to ask for."

  Birch glowered, "Friends don't ask permission to stop their friends from getting taken advantage of."

  "Yeah? Well, maybe they should," with that, she spun around and marched off.

  "I'll see you at the car," Birch shouted after her.

  Shilloh did not turn around. Just lifted a middle finger into he air. Not sure who she would ride with, but certain it would not be with Birch.

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