Lavender Dreams: Life After Us: Book Two

by Rebekah Dodson

  “I suppose.” Danielle shrugged. “Though you can let them out in the woods to get eaten by a wolf or something. I don’t really care.”

  “Leave my kids alone!” Cole screamed from the next cell, ending their conversation.

  “What’ll we do with them?” Vince nodded towards Randy and Cole.

  “When the Leader arrives for the woman, we’ll see if they want these. He’ll want the Khaki, certainly. Make sure he knows he raped the woman.”

  “Whatever you say, boss.”

  Ambrose shook the bars as much as he could, his strength making parts of the cracked ceiling crumble to the floor, but Danielle ignored him.

  “Please, my wife is in Klamath,” Cole sobbed, rubbing the bump on his temple. “You have to let us go.”

  Randy was standing with his arms crossed, saying nothing. He glared at Danielle.

  “I can’t wait to get that money,” Vince was saying to Danielle. “Imagine what we can do with that kind of cash! Get out of this hell hole, that’s fer sure.”

  Danielle ignored him and threw one last look at Cole. “Anyone traveling with a Khaki deserves the same fate he gets.” She shrugged. With that, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room, just behind Vince. She turned to the third man who had entered with her and told him to stay there. Ambrose heard the lock as she turned another key in the front door. The man pulled a rusty desk chair out and sat heavily, pulling his hat down over his head and leaning back. It creaked with his weight.

  Ambrose tightened his grip on the ancient bars once more, hoisting himself with his thick arms to see out the frosted door to the highway. He could barely make out a man with a rifle, standing in front of the motel room right in the middle of the first floor, and above him, the lights were on in two different rooms. He had no idea how many there were, but including the three with Danielle, there was at least one more guarding the motel room. That made five, too many for him to take.

  Even if he knew a way out of here.

  Vicki. He pressed his forehead against the cool steel and dropped to his knees. He couldn’t let that bastard of a leader take her. Danielle said they’d be coming. When? In the middle of the night? Tomorrow morning? He plopped down on the bed behind, his head in his hands. If they found out he and Vicki … well, Danielle was willing to say anything to have his head.

  An hour or more dragged on while Ambrose flew through plan after plan in his head, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to focus.

  Long after the sun had fully set, and Cole and Randy began their synchronized snoring, Ambrose stood and began to pace. Where were Cole’s children? Had they found them? Was Vicki okay? The worries mounted, and each step he took around the cell exacerbated them. The man Danielle had left in the jail was still snoring softly.

  What I wouldn’t give for a gun right now, or any kind of weapon.

  Ambrose froze in the middle of the cell. Two of the walls were thick cement, the third, bars that faced the open office, and the fourth was a shared barred wall with Cole and Randy’s cell. Just beyond their cell was another door, maybe leading to another office or even outside. Ambrose took note of that for later, if he could even figure out how to get out of here. It wouldn’t be easy, considering his damn injured shoulder.

  He looked down. That was it, the sling! The sling was still around his arm, and he slipped it off, searching for the knife he’d slipped in there earlier. There hadn’t been time to set it down in the RV when Cole had motioned towards the glove compartment.

  His fingers seized the small hilt of his knife, and he felt relieved. Thank God Danielle hadn’t bothered to check for weapons, the stupid teenage bitch she was. On the other side of the adjoining cell, Cole was on the bottom bunk and Randy on the top, both sleeping soundly. He didn’t have time to wait for them to wake up. He had to get to Vicki, and now.

  “Cole,” he whispered urgently. “Cole!”

  “Huh?” Cole rolled over and faced Ambrose, rubbing his eyes. “What… what’s going on?”

  “I saw the kids.”

  “What?” Cole sat up now, his eyes wide in the faint light from the desk lamp in the office. “Ricky? Jilly?” He bounded up from the bed to the barred window. “I don’t see them!”

  “Shh!” Ambrose threw a cautious look at their guard, who was snoring loudly now. “I saw them from my window, just now. Come closer, I bet you can see the top of Ricky’s head.”

  Cole inched closer to Ambrose’s side of the cell. When he was a foot away, Ambrose slid one part of his sling through the bars.

  “Hey! What are you…” Too late, Cole saw the sling coming for his neck. He tried to push it away, but Ambrose was too fast. He pulled the other side of the sling tight, yanking Cole’s head against the bars.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered into Cole’s ear. “I have to get to Vicki. I promise I won’t hurt you. Play along.”

  “The hell I will, you damn Khaki!”

  Cole’s shout was loud enough to wake the guard. He stumbled to his feet, his chair crashing behind him. “What’s going on over there?”

  “Wrong answer,” Ambrose growled. He pushed his knife against Cole’s throat, careful not to cut it, but just enough pressure to scare him into thinking Ambrose really would hurt him.

  Cole started to scream.

  The guard threw open the front door and shouted at someone outside.

  Randy hopped off the top bunk. “What the hell is this?”

  “This is me getting out of here,” Ambrose shouted at him. “Step back!”

  Danielle, Vince, and their guard all appeared in front of the cell. Ambrose noticed Danielle looked the worse for wear as she limped towards him. Her normally sleek hair was tangled, and a purple ring surrounded her left eye, just above a trail of three scratches. Her sweater was torn at the left shoulder. Ambrose smirked. Someone had kicked her ass, and he’d put money on Vicki.

  “Drop the knife, you khaki bastard!” Danielle shouted.

  Ambrose noticed Vince had a rifle pointed at him and didn’t have time to think about whoever kicked Danielle’s ass.

  “We both know that long range rifle won’t hit me behind these bars,” Ambrose boasted, “and he’ll be dead before your guy can get a shot off.”

  Danielle’s face twisted in a mire of rage. She looked at the guard. “Jim, unlock the cell.”

  Cole whimpered. “Don’t let him kill me, please!”

  Before Jim could reach for his keys, the thunder of military vehicles sounded from outside.

  “Looks like you’re too late,” Danielle huffed, crossing her arms and smirking. “They are already here.”

  “Vicki!” Ambrose yelled before he could stop himself. His grip loosened on the knife, and before he could regain his composure, Randy stepped up to the bars and chopped the knife from his hand, and the pain shot up his wrist. He stepped back from the bars, and Cole fell to his knees, gasping for breath.

  Danielle sneered at Ambrose. “This isn’t even about protecting your own freedom, is it Ambrose?”

  He stared at her.

  “It is about that woman. Now I see what a week has changed.”

  “Danielle,” Ambrose hissed, “I swear, if you give her to the military, you won’t leave here alive.”

  “I beg to differ.”

  A shot rang out behind them, and Vince yelled, dropping to the floor and clutching his knee. Ambrose backed up against the back of the cell as blood sprayed below his waist. Vince was lying on the ground, the tattered remains of his knee gushing into a puddle beneath him. Ambrose had never heard any man scream so shrilly as Vince did. And he’d seen some boxing matches ending in bloody, broken bones. He guessed a blown knee was more painful.

  Danielle backed up to the wall, and Jim dashed under the desk behind them.

  The rush of the Humvees outside came to a quiet, and Ambrose knew he was out of time. He looked up to see where the shot had some from, throwing his arms in the air, knowing if it was the military, it was already too late for him.
>
  Behind Vince, Ricky, the boy of barely eight years old, struggled to hold a double-barreled shot gun with tendrils of smoke escaping out the barrel. The barrel fell to the ground, and Ricky kicked it out of the way. His sister hid behind him, still clutching that dirty teddy bear. Ricky pulled a pistol out of his waistband, nearly the size of the child’s arm. He leveled it steadily at Danielle with a firm calmness Ambrose would have never thought possible.

  “You let my Pa out of there,” the child demanded.

  “Yeah!” Jilly yelled, still gripping Ricky around the waist. She buried her head in his side as Danielle turned and looked at them.

  “Jim, you fucking coward, it’s just the brats! Get them!” she yelled at the man under the desk.

  Ambrose wanted to laugh as Jim shook his head at her. He realized Danielle wasn’t armed; he wondered if she even knew how to shoot.

  Vince was still screaming.

  Danielle sneered at the little boy but huffed as she unhooked the keys at her belt and tossed them towards him. They fell short, and Jilly scrambled to retrieve them.

  “Take him and get out.” Ricky’s tiny voice warbled, as he tried to stare down the older girl. “Or I’ll shoot you like I shot him. You, too, coward under the desk. Don’t think I don’t see you!”

  Jim crawled out on his hands and knees and made a break for the door.

  As the door opened, Ambrose could make out three, maybe four, military hummers, and a white, windowless minivan parked on the other side of the highway. The door banged shut behind Jim before Ambrose could spot anymore.

  Danielle was helping Vince off the floor but slipped in the pooling blood and fell on her ass.

  Ambrose chuckled.

  Jilly stepped around the mess, her eyes wide. She examined the keys for a minute, then chose one and stuck it in the lock, and to Ambrose’s surprise, it turned. Jilly looked equally as shocked as she gaped at her father.

  “Papa, you okay?”

  “Daddy’s fine honey.” Cole smiled at her, pulling open the door.

  “Are we gonna get Mama now?”

  “Yes.” Cole scooped her into his arms.

  They both glared at Danielle, who was pulling herself up with the help of the desk. The glare gone from her face and replaced with one of terror, she took one look at them and bolted for the door, leaving Vince behind, whose screams had dulled to a whisper. Ambrose watched as his eyes rolled in the back of his head and he passed out.

  Cole sat Jilly down, and Ricky lowered the gun, sighing heavily and swaying on his feet. Randy joined them and were all making their way to the front door. Jilly still held the keys loosely in her hand.

  “Jilly!” Ambrose called. “Jilly, honey, toss me the keys?”

  Cole looked back, then down at Jilly. “Don’t do it. He hurt yer daddy.”

  “Jilly, they have Vicki, and they are gonna hurt her. Do you want that to happen?”

  Jilly dropped Cole’s hand and looked at Ambrose. She shook her head slowly.

  “Toss me the keys, please, honey?” Ambrose begged,

  In that awful moment, Ambrose knew she wasn’t going to. He was going to rot here, unable to help Vicki, all because of the child’s indecision. The four of them turned away from him.

  “Don’t go that way!” Ambrose pleaded. “The military is out there. Didn’t you hear them pull up?”

  Cole and Randy looked at each other. “Yeah,” Randy said, “but they ain’t got nothing on us, just you, Khaki.”

  “I can get you out of here. Out of Oregon, I mean.”

  “What?” Cole eyed Ambrose.

  “I’m a pilot.” Not entirely a lie, but he bet it was more than either of them knew.

  “Hmm.” Randy and Cole exchanged a glance. “There’s an airport in Klamath.”

  “He might be able to get us out of the state,” Cole said. “Once we find my Mary, that is.”

  “That’s right!” Ambrose beseeched, knowing his voice was high. Outside, he could hear voices shouting orders. Two gun shots rang out, which made Ricky and Jilly jump.

  “There’s an office by the cell, and probably a back door. Why else are there so many keys? Maybe we can get out that way and hide.” Ambrose crossed his arms.

  Cole sighed, and put his hand on Jilly’s shoulder. “Give me the keys, baby girl.”

  Jilly peered at him as she handed him the jangling keys. “Are we going to save Miss Vicki?” Cole didn’t answer but instead scooped her up into his arms.

  Randy snatched the ring from Cole and deftly unlocked Ambrose’s cell, throwing the door open. “You better be telling the truth mister, that we can get us a plane.”

  Ambrose held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

  Chapter Nine

  An hour earlier:

  The man Danielle had called Terry pushed Vicki into the motel room, and she stumbled, falling face first on the bed. She turned over, bringing her knees into her chest. “Don’t rape me,” she cried in a small voice.

  Terry backed up the door, his hand on the brass knob. He ran his tongue over several missing teeth, which made Vicki cringe. “Don’t be silly, bitch. You’re only worth the reward untouched, at least that’s what Boss says.”

  Vicki relaxed, as much as she could, anyway. “Why do you follow her? She’s like seventeen!” Vicki struggled to sit up. Her head was pounding.

  “Oh, that’s easy. She promised us she’d take us out of town when the time comes.”

  Vicki rubbed her aching temples. “Don’t you have cars? That run?”

  “When the military came through, they destroyed the cars, and the people, with this strange gun. Boss said it was an Ee-and-Pee.”

  “Electromagnetic Pulse?” Vicki inquired.

  Terry looked at her, confused.

  “Never mind.” Vicki sighed. “If there are no cars, how will she get you away from here?”

  “Oh, there are cars, a whole bunch of them, behind the police station.”

  “They weren’t affected by the EMP?

  “Nope, just the ones out there.” Terry motioned his head to the parking lot outside the motel. “Boss started a patrol car yesterday to show us they were working. Said the concrete protected them or something like that.”

  “You don’t have to listen to her. My friend, he’s a pilot, and we can get away. You could come with us.”

  “You got twenty thousand bucks, Miss?”

  She blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

  Terry shrugged, pulled the door closed. “Cuz the military does, and they’ll be here shortly.”

  “What?” Vicki cried, but the door shut, and the lock clicked from the outside.

  Vicki lay back on the bed, her eyes covering her pounding head. They were going to turn her over. And where was Ambrose? Had Danielle… No. Vicki refused to admit Danielle would kill him. She’d shot him once out of desperation, but Ambrose was resourceful. He’d get her out of here. Any moment, he would just come crashing through that door and pick her up and they’d get away. Away from all this, forever.

  Any moment, she thought, as she closed her eyes, willing the headache to go away. Any…

  Vicki bolted upright, the icy water splashing into her face. “What the…” Her vision was still fuzzy, but she could make out Danielle’s face in front of her.

  “Wakey, wakey, bitch.”

  Just behind Danielle, Terry was standing next to the partially closed door. Vicki wondered if she could make it past Danielle without a fight. She struggled to her feet, her legs wobbly.

  “How dare you…” Vicki trailed off as she reached up and slapped Danielle across the face as hard as she could. “That’s for shooting Ambrose!”

  Danielle grabbed her cheek and stumbled back towards the window, catching herself on the white radiator just below the sill. She chuckled and smiled at Vicki. “Well, well. What a few days in the wilderness will do to the city girl!” She laughed. “I see you have changed.”

  “We never did anything to you!” Vicki yelled in her face.<
br />
  “You’re wrong,” Danielle scoffed. “God, you’re like, so wrong. His kind did everything. Who was there to save my father when he was shot in the war? Who was there to tell him he’d never walk again? And in his last minutes, who was there to save him? No one!”

  “We saved your ass!” Vicki shouted. “I’m sorry that happened to your father, but…”

  “I didn’t need saving, not from you, not from that Khaki!” Danielle screamed, advancing on Vicki.

  “Don’t you call him that!” Too late, Vicki realized where this was going. Danielle shoved a fist into Vicki’s stomach. She fell back against the bed, bounding off the end and falling to the floor.

  Danielle stood over her, an awful smirk on her face. Vicki spit up at her. “You don’t know Ambrose. You don’t know he would do anything for anyone. He saved you!”

  “Oh, I see what’s going on here, now. I thought it was just him, but, wow, you two are really fit for each other.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Danielle laughed. “Isn’t it obvious? You love him. And if his red face was any indication, he feels the same way.”

  “I do not!” Vicki could feel her cheeks heat as she remembered the night they spent together in the woods. Her head spun: does he love me?

  Danielle just laughed again, and brought her foot down, right over Vicki’s stomach.

  Rolling on her side, Vicki tucked her knees into her chest and threw her arms over her head. “Stop!” she cried. “Please, I’m pregnant!”

  “Well, well, Vicki, you little Khaki slut.” Danielle stomped on her wounded ankle instead.

  Vicki cried out, grabbing her legs. “Use your brain, Danielle,” she seethed through the searing pain, “it’s only been a little more than a week.”

  “Regardless, you don’t think I saw what you in the tent, cuddling up to him, like the khaki whore you are?”

  “We didn’t…” Vicki sputtered, but the lie burned her lips. “There’s no way it’s Ambrose’s…”

  “Don’t use his name like he’s human!” Danielle screeched at her.