Nuclear Survival: Western Strength (Book 3): Make The Cut

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Nuclear Survival: Western Strength (Book 3): Make The Cut Page 4

by Tate, Harley


  “I can wait if you want me to.”

  He shook his head. “We don’t have time. You need to get out there and come back before it’s dark. Long before.” He swallowed. “Jerry’s right. He’ll be the most useful here.”

  She nodded, her expression somber, and reached out to squeeze his hand. “I’ll be careful.”

  “You better be.”

  “Take the pistol. You’ll need protection.” Jerry held the handgun they had acquired in Los Angeles out in his hand and Lainey took it.

  With another squeeze of Keith’s hand, she stepped away. Owen already stood near the door to the kitchen, waiting for her to leave. As they ducked through the swing door, Bear barked.

  Keith shushed him. “It’s okay, buddy. They’ll be back.” Keith wished he felt as confident as he sounded.

  “You ready?”

  He turned and handed the roll of tape to Jerry. “No. But I don’t think I’ve got a choice.”

  “Should I rip the wound closure off first?”

  Keith nodded, but before Jerry bent down to grab the plastic material, Keith held up a hand. “I need one thing before we start.”

  Jerry lifted one eyebrow.

  “Check the kitchen for some vodka, will you?”

  Chapter Six

  LAINEY

  Daggett Road

  Yermo, CA

  Friday, 11:00 a.m. PST

  Dust coated Lainey’s shoes as she walked along the side of the two-lane road with Owen by her side. Black squiggly lines covered the asphalt where it had cracked beneath the weight of the scorching sun and been repaired with hot tar. A dirt berm separated the road from the miles of desert scrub brush blending into the horizon.

  “I wonder if we should go back. Cross the freeway and try on the other side.” Owen twisted around, using his hand to shield his eyes from the blinding sun.

  They had walked for a few miles with nothing to show for it except dirty feet, dry throats, and the beginnings of sunburns. Lainey slowed. Apart from a few scattered homes, they were alone in the middle of nowhere. She looked up at the power lines running down the side of the highway, brown wood poles one after another as far as she could see. “There has to be something up ahead. Why would they run power and phone lines if the road petered out?”

  “You really think we’re going to find gas out here? I don’t even see a tree.”

  Lainey understood Owen’s frustration, but she wasn’t ready to give up. She checked her watch. “Let’s give it until noon. If we don’t find anything, we can turn around and head back, cross the freeway, and scope out the area across the road.”

  Reluctantly, Owen fell into step beside her again. After a few moments, he spoke up. “Will you still try to be a reporter, in Canada?”

  Lainey glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. They were almost the same age, but their life experiences to date had differed dramatically. She swallowed hard. “Ever since my dad died, it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  She shrugged. They might have spent almost every waking moment of the past week together, but there were still things she didn’t share. “He was a police officer in Dallas.” As she relayed the story of his death while on patrol, the familiar pain at losing her father stirred up a slew of emotions. Anger. Bitterness. Resentment. And the desire to make a difference.

  “It’s why I’m a reporter. People deserve to know what’s happening in their own neighborhoods, to people they know and care about. If we don’t report the news, then everyone is in the dark.”

  Owen nodded as he stared at the road surface. “I figured you had a good reason. Who else would stick around Los Angeles when they knew a bomb was about to go off just to tell everyone else about it? Most people would cut and run.”

  “You didn’t,” Lainey offered.

  “Only because at first I didn’t believe you, and then you were already leaving. Believe me, if I’d seen a spot on the news, I’d have hit the road ASAP.” He winced. “Or bummed a ride, at least.”

  They talked about their lives before and how the conveniences of modern life took away the struggle of day-to-day living. Each shared stories of their neighbors and the poor delivery drivers who brought everything from dog food to potted plants to cases of wine up two floors of garden apartment steps everyday.

  “It was the best time to be an agoraphobic, that’s for sure.” Owen almost laughed before sobering. “What do you think is going to happen?”

  “To the country?”

  He nodded.

  “Nothing good.” Lainey wrapped her arms around herself, thinking back to Rick’s last email. Someone inside the United States government worked with terrorists on the ground to launch the attack. Someone right now was reveling in their handiwork, happy to see the destruction of the nation.

  If she hadn’t heard the gunshots, if she hadn’t seen the photo of Rick’s body, she wouldn’t believe it. “Do you think the Canadian government will actually let us in?”

  Owen shrugged. “I have no idea. But if we keep feeding the TV stations news stories, at least we’ll have a chance.”

  A chain-link fence rose out of the dirt ahead and Lainey and Owen slowed. Just beyond, a warehouse painted in the same pale beige as the desert land hugged the side of the road with five garage bays all closed.

  Owen leaned forward, squinting to read the sign. “Refrigeration/AC. Complete Diesel/Auto Services.” He perked up. “I bet they’ve got fuel.”

  Lainey pointed out the fence topped in barbed wire and the padlocked gate. “Can we even get in?”

  “There’s got to be a way.”

  Together, they skirted the property, searching for an open gate or a way to sneak inside. With Lainey’s black leggings and bright teal workout top, she was the opposite of concealed. Owen didn’t fare much better in jeans and a T-shirt. If anyone was inside watching, they had been spotted a long time ago.

  Owen reached for the fence and gave a small side gate a shake. The chain wrapped around the sliding portion jiggled as he tugged. “I think it’s loose enough for us to sneak through.” Owen pulled again and the gate slid back far enough for him to duck his head between the vertical bars.

  “Do you think that’s a good idea? What if someone’s in there?”

  “They’d have come out already, don’t you think? It’s not like we blend in.” Owen didn’t wait for Lainey to agree. He shimmied his way through the opening, turning around as he emerged to hold the gate wide enough for her to follow. She ducked inside, catching her leggings on an errant twist of metal. The thin fabric tore and she cursed herself for not changing in the diner when she had a chance, but she still didn’t feel comfortable stealing when it wasn’t absolutely necessary.

  “Let’s see if there’s a way inside. If there’s gas, we can look around for a container and try and bring back what we can carry. If not, at least we’ll know where to drive and fill up.”

  Owen hurried to the closest door and tried the handle. Locked. He cupped his hands around his face and peered through the dark glass. “It’s a garage all right.” He leaned back, excitement coloring his cheeks. “There’s at least three cars in there, real beaters by the looks of them.”

  “Any gas cans?”

  He turned back to look again. “I can’t tell. But there have to be. If not, we can at least siphon out of the cars. I can’t believe they would be empty.”

  Lainey spun, searching for anything that would help get them inside. The lot was full of the same dirt and weeds as the rest of the desert without so much as a pebble to throw against the glass. “Let’s see what’s around back.” They skirted the building, hugging the wall as they dipped into the relative coolness of the shade.

  Another door and a garage bay occupied the rear of the building and Owen gave both a tug. “Locked, too.”

  “This might help.” Lainey picked up what appeared to be a short crowbar from a pile of metal and old wood that had been left lying in a pile. I
t was covered in rust and chipped paint, but still appeared perfectly useable. She held it out to Owen and he frowned.

  “Should I bash the window in?”

  “Try wedging it in the door lock first. Maybe you can pop the door open.”

  Owen did as she suggested, wedging the tapered edge between the door and the jamb. It took a few tries, working the metal back and forth, but they were rewarded with a splinter, a crack, and finally an open door. Lainey almost whooped.

  They eased inside, both blinking away the spots clouding their vision as their eyes adjusted to the dark. Lainey pulled out her mini-flashlight and panned it across the space. The far wall sported work benches with peg boards above filled with tools. The garage bays sat dead ahead, ready to welcome vehicles for repair. Across the warehouse sat a small reception area with faded vinyl seats and what looked like a coffee pot sitting on top of a mini-fridge.

  But right in front of them was what they’d come for. An old sedan cranked up in a lift, no tires on its wheels.

  “I’ll look for a gas can.” Owen took off, searching the work benches for any sign of a familiar red can.

  “If they don’t have one, try to find anything we can carry.” Lainey eased into the warehouse, walking past the sedan and through the work bays. Two more cars took up valuable real estate inside the warehouse and both held promise of tanks full of gas. In the back corner, a small box was carved out of the floorspace with drywall walls and a door marked Employees Only. Lainey worked her way there and tried the handle.

  Inside was what passed for a management office with an old metal desk straight out of the 1950s and a pleather desk chair on wheels. Lainey pulled the chair out and sat down. A cloud of dust puffed up around her and she coughed through it as she bent to try the drawers. The top yielded a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and a pad of blank carbon-copy receipts. The next was full of hanging files with copies of invoices.

  The third yielded an unexpected bounty. Lainey reached in and pulled out a small revolver and set it on the desk before grabbing a box of ammunition. She read the side. Winchester .38 S&JIM. The revolver reminded her of the first gun her father carried as a beat cop when she was a kid. The department transitioned to semi-automatic pistols and he’d been allowed to bring his original service weapon home.

  She remembered sitting at the dining room table as he explained how it worked. Lainey held her breath as she pressed the small lever on the side of the gun and swung the cylinder out. It was exactly like she remembered. The gun was already loaded. She swallowed and pressed the cylinder back into position.

  Nothing else in the office yielded positive results. Lainey hesitated. Keith’s handgun still dug into her back where she’d wedged it beneath the waistband of her leggings. She shouldn’t take someone else’s only means of protection, but the thought of the man who injured Keith coming back filled her with dread.

  Before she could make up her mind, the door burst open. Owen rushed in, out of breath and panting.

  “What is it?”

  He shushed her. “We have to be quiet. Someone else is here.”

  Chapter Seven

  LAINEY

  Daggett Road Warehouse

  Yermo, CA

  Friday, 1:30 p.m. PST

  Lainey clicked off the flashlight and plunged the small office into darkness. “What do you mean, someone’s here?”

  “I was searching the tool boxes for a real siphon and a gas can when I heard voices. They were right on the other side of the closest garage door.”

  “What were they saying?”

  “I couldn’t make it all out. Something about plenty in the safe to pay this week in cash.”

  Lainey felt the color drain from her face. “Where’s the safe?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She turned around, staring into the dark corners of the room. The safe was probably somewhere inside the office. They were sitting ducks. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  “But there’s gas in the cars, I’m sure of it.”

  “It won’t matter if we get caught.” She tugged on Owen’s sleeve. “Come on.”

  “No! We have to hide.”

  “I found a gun in the bottom drawer.” Lainey grabbed Keith’s gun out from behind her back and held it out to Owen. “Take this. I’ll take the revolver, and we’ll both have a weapon.”

  Owen fumbled for the gun in the dark. “Keith only showed me how to use it once. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  Lainey shoved the box of ammo beneath her waistband in the same spot where Keith’s gun once rested before picking up the little revolver. “Maybe you won’t have to, but if we run into whoever’s out there, at least we’ll have a chance.”

  “You really want me to shoot someone?”

  She pressed her lips together. “No. But it won’t be the first time we’ve been stuck in an impossible situation since this all started. Let’s go.”

  Lainey sneaked out into the main warehouse space as a shaft of light broadened across the floor. One of the garage doors groaned and creaked as it opened. She motioned to Owen to hurry.

  They darted out of the office and Lainey sank into a crouch as she hid behind the closest vehicle. Owen joined her. Together they inched toward the rear and away from the open door.

  “Open up those other doors, will you? We need some light up in here.”

  Lainey cursed beneath her breath as another voice responded with words she couldn’t make out. A moment later, another garage door opened. Soon there would be nowhere to hide.

  “I don’t understand why we’re working today.” A voice rougher around the edges than the first one carried through the open door. “It ain’t like anybody’s coming to get their car.”

  “We have open jobs, Tyler. We have to finish them.” The older voice paused. “Besides, it’s payday. If you work a full day, I’ll pay you in cash, just like I said.”

  “We should be on vacation. Permanent vacation.”

  “Until we hear otherwise, we owe it to our customers to fix their cars and that’s the end of it.” The older man came into view, lit up from the afternoon sun. About fifty or fifty-five judging by the graying hair and slight rounding of his shoulders. He wore a work shirt with Jim embroidered above the pocket. “You don’t want to get paid your last paycheck, that’s fine. But I’m going to finish these jobs with or without you.”

  Tyler, the younger man, grumbled beneath his breath. “Whatever you say, boss.” Heavyset, with a belly that hung over his work pants, he sauntered into the warehouse wiping sweat off his forehead. He bent in front of the sedan one bay over from Lainey and Owen and pumped the arm of a jack to lift the car’s backend off the ground.

  Lainey shrank back. Owen tapped her on the shoulder and pointed toward the open garage door. He wanted to make a run for it. Lainey nodded in agreement and inched closer. If they could sneak out without being seen, they could come back after working hours for the gas.

  Owen eased around the car and Lainey followed close behind. The box of bullets dug into her back as she crept forward. They just might make it. As Owen neared the front of the vehicle, a clang of metal against concrete rang out and a wrench skittered across the floor. It smacked against Tyler’s heel. He twisted around and picked it up, turning it over in his hand as he frowned.

  “What the heck?” He rose slowly, eyes tracking the path of the wrench until he froze. “You! Stop!” He spun. “Jim, we got somebody in the warehouse.”

  Lainey cursed. This wasn’t how she wanted this to go. “Stay down,” she whispered to Owen. “Try to get out if you have a chance.” She stuffed the gun in her waistband and flounced her shirt over the top before stepping out into the open space, hands up.

  She smiled. “Hi.” She tried to sound sheepish and afraid. “I’m sorry I broke in. Someone was following me on the street and I didn’t know what else to do. I ducked behind your shop and sneaked in. I was going to wait the guy out.”

  Tyler looked her up and down. “You f
rom around here?”

  She shook her head. “Los Angeles. I’m trying to make it to my family in Chicago.”

  The older man’s voice carried across the warehouse and Lainey turned. “The whole place is locked up tight, miss. From the fence to the doors. How did you get in, exactly?”

  She chewed on her lip. “There might’ve been a crowbar outside?”

  Jim came closer. “So you’re saying you broke in. Trespassed. All so you could hide from someone following you? I didn’t see anyone out on the road, did you, Tyler?”

  The younger man shook his head. “Nope.”

  “We’re looking for gas.” Owen’s voice carried across Lainey’s shoulder and she twisted around, incredulous. He was supposed to stay hidden!

  Jim crossed his arms over his chest. “This isn’t a spot for users to camp out. I don’t allow drugs in my warehouse.”

  “We aren’t using. Just out of gas.”

  “Where’s your car?”

  “Back near the highway.” Owen held up his hands. “I swear no drugs.”

  “I don’t believe them.” Tyler shook his head. “We should call Howard down at the precinct and have them picked up. Trespassing is trespassing.”

  “We don’t want any trouble.”

  Lainey tried to placate them. “He’s telling the truth. We’ve been walking for miles, trying to find somewhere with gas. I meant what I said. I’m trying to reach my family in Chicago. We left LA and made it here before we ran out. None of the gas stations are open. We can’t find anyone to help us out. When we saw your sign for car repair we thought maybe you had an extra can.” She fished for the little pocket sewn into the waistband of her leggings and pulled out a folded bundle of cash. “We can pay.”

  The younger man hoisted up his jeans. “How much are we talking?”

  Lainey glanced down at the wad of bills. “About a hundred dollars. I’ll give it all to you for as much as you have.”

 

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