by K. M. Fawkes
“Alice is a smart woman,” Julia noted. “I would count myself lucky if I ever became half as strong as her.”
Garrett reached out and squeezed her shoulder. This girl had done more to protect him and what he was doing in that prison than anyone else, and their escape had happened because she’d had his back.
“You’re stronger than you know,” he told her quietly. “And just as stubborn as Alice. But don’t let the compliments go to your head. I’ll be at my house if anyone needs me. Got some more… planning to do.”
It was a lie, and though he felt bad about lying to Julia, a large part of him knew that it was the right thing to do. If they were truly leaving tonight, it meant he had some things to put to rest before they went.
And he wanted to do it alone.
Though they were supposed to share everything in Trinity Ranch, there was one thing that Garrett had been keeping to himself. A bottle of whiskey, found on a raid just days after their arrival. He had shoved it into the farthest corner of the closet in the master bedroom he’d been sleeping in, thinking to save it for a special occasion, and when he pulled it out now, it was covered with spiderwebs and dust.
But he bet the whiskey inside was still liquid gold—and the best tonic for the pain he was feeling in his heart. Because no matter how much he and Alice talked about it, and no matter how many times she told him he was wrong, his gut still said that he was at fault for what had happened in Helen Falls. Hell, even the things that had happened before that. He should have been able to save Fawn. Should have forced his sister to come to New Mexico and bring her husband and her son with her. Should have been there to talk Green out of shooting Raoul, rather than sitting up in that cozy office pretending he was Green’s ally.
Should have been able to save Evie from that lonely death in the attic.
Yes, there were reasons for all the things he’d done. And much of that had been completely out of his control. But he hadn’t been able to get any of it out of his mind—or off his heart. The weight of the responsibility was weighing him down, and now that they were talking about leaving town, everything felt as if it weighed five times as much. The thought of leaving Bart and Riley behind, giving up on them, felt like a betrayal. Like something he’d never be able to forgive himself for.
He hadn’t stopped believing that they might be able to get out of it themselves. Hadn’t stopped thinking that Bart was a smart kid who knew his way around the desert. And those were good thoughts—outside, in the light. Here, in the darkness and alone with his own guilty conscience, they didn’t hold as much weight.
Suddenly his mind went back to something he’d thought about before—and discounted. Something that had seemed so outrageous that he hadn’t even spoken to Alice about it to ask her opinion. Had barely dared to allow himself to speak to himself about it.
What if he was wrong about going back to Helen Falls for the kids? What if he could do it—should do it—and he’d just been giving himself an easy out in thinking that it wasn’t a possibility? What if…
Helen Falls was a good distance from here, and it would be easier with a vehicle, yes. But it was within walking distance if he gave himself the time to do it. And he knew how to be stealthy, now. Knew how to crawl through the desert and hide so that anyone watching the town and the area would be no wiser. Knew how to get into that town. Hell, he even sort of knew the layout, now, given how long they’d spent watching it before they went in with the tanker full of water.
“Could I?” he asked himself, just breathing out the words.
Was it possible? He could walk to town, get in on the outskirts, and start combing the area for any place the kids might be hiding. Go through every nook and cranny, just to see if they were there. Maybe even spy on the bikers to see if they had them hidden away anywhere—or said anything about what might have happened to them. If the kids were there, he could save them. If they weren’t—if they were already dead—then at least he’d know for sure. He wouldn’t have to worry about leaving them behind anymore. Save them or put his conscience to rest. Neither seemed like a bad option.
But he’d go alone, he decided. If he went, he’d have to do it on his own, to avoid endangering anyone else. And he’d have to figure out how to send the rest of the people from Trinity Ranch ahead without him. How to track them once they were on the road. That shouldn’t be too difficult, though. They were heading in a set direction, so he’d know where to find them if he was coming up behind them.
It could work. It could work.
He unscrewed the bottle and brought the mouth to his lips, tipping it up for a long, throat-searing gulp. He pulled the bottle away, gasping, but brought it back to his lips a moment later, ready for another shot.
One more drink and he was on his feet, headed toward the makeshift memorial he’d built for his sister and her family in the backyard. He needed Kady’s advice more than he ever had. He only hoped she’d be listening tonight.
He’d only taken three steps when the banging on the door started.
Instead of going down the back stairs toward the kitchen, the way he’d been headed, Garrett turned to the left and rushed toward the main stairway, which led into the foyer. He took the steps three at a time, tripping and skidding as he rushed for the bottom. When he threw open the door, Alice was on the other side, her face devoid of any emotion.
“What?” he gasped, hicupping. “Why are you banging on the door like we’re in the middle of a fire alarm?”
She took one long look at his face, and then glanced at the bottle in his hand. When her gaze met his again, he could see that she was more upset than she’d let on, the lines around her eyes deeper, her mouth drawn tighter than normal.
“Alice,” he said intently. “What happened?”
“The truck is gone,” she answered. “Along with all the supplies we loaded into it.”
Chapter 3
Garrett didn’t even stop to put his shirt back on. He dropped the bottle of whiskey onto the table next to the door and rushed out, grabbing Alice as he went.
“What are you talking about, it’s gone?” he snapped. “How could it just disappear like that?”
“We were taking a break from loading it and everyone decided to go for dinner,” Alice told him, rushing to keep up with him as they hit the gate in front of his house. “When we came back, it was gone. Whoever took it has most of our supplies, because we were almost completely packed already. There are still some crates sitting in the shop, but you know Greyson—the moment he was put in charge it became military precision time.”
“They must have had everything packed in the space of ten minutes,” Garrett grumbled. “Whoever took it had just been waiting for an opportunity.”
“And they got it when we decided to take a break,” Alice confirmed.
They reached the garage in record time, and Garrett swept through the side door and into the interior. There he found the entire town standing around looking dumbstruck, as if they’d just been slapped by their best friend.
And in a way, they had. Whoever had taken the truck had left them with no transportation, and even worse, very few supplies. It was the height of selfish and irresponsible. The worst thing any of them could have done to the rest of the community.
Garrett’s brain screamed at the lack of loyalty, the willingness to hurt the others, but he shoved that part down into a dark hole and tried to get a handle on his temper. This was the time for logical thinking, not temper tantrums.
Looking around, he counted the number of crates still sitting against the wall. Ten crates, and who knew what was in them. He hoped it was enough water for the town. They could find food out there in the desert if they absolutely had to. Water was a lot harder to come by.
“Is everyone here?” he called out, speaking to no one in particular but knowing that someone would answer him.
“Everyone but whoever took the truck,” Greyson said grimly.
“Who was on watch?” Garrett asked.
/> “We were all gathered for our last dinner here,” Greyson replied, his voice subdued. “So nobody was on watch.”
“Right,” Garrett murmured.
Then he started counting heads. Julia, check. Greyson, check. Manny, Alice, Steve, check. He stopped at that and tipped his head a bit. If he’d been a gambling man—he wasn’t—he would have been betting on Steve being the thief, but there he was standing next to Manny, his face torn between horror and a snide comment.
No doubt trying to think of a way to blame this on me, Garrett realized. And good luck to him on that score. Garrett had been fighting for this departure from Trinity Ranch for days. He wouldn’t have done anything to mess it up.
Putting his dislike of Steve to the side, he kept counting. Moments later he was through the crowd and coming to Kristy—pregnant and sweating—and her husband, Shane. And then he stopped. Those two were one of the only couples that age in town. But there had been another couple their age, and he didn’t see them.
He scanned through the crowd again, specifically looking for a tall, lanky man who stood head and shoulders above the rest of the men, and the petite girl he’d called his wife. But they were gone.
“Cora and John,” he said quietly. Then, lifting his voice, “Anyone seen Cora and John?”
A murmur started up in the crowd as the townspeople frowned and started turning to each other, trying to figure out when they’d last seen either of the young people. Alice was frowning as well, muttering to herself, and even Greyson looked as if he couldn’t place the last time he might have seen the couple.
Finally, after letting everyone mull it over for several minutes, Garrett spoke again.
“I’m guessing they were here during the packing, but no one saw them at the schoolhouse for dinner. And I’m guessing no one can pinpoint them even having walked to the schoolhouse with you. Am I right?”
His only answer was an awkward silence—and then a sudden burst of speaking and yelling.
“How could they do this?” one woman asked sharply. “Take all our things? What gives them the right?”
“John was right there at the front of the line, helping me load things!” another man shouted out. “He knew exactly what was in that truck—and how important it was!”
Soon the individual statements and questions were lost in a growing crescendo of sound, the people getting more and more worked up at what they saw—correctly—as a betrayal by people who had been friends, and Garrett put his hands up to quiet them.
“Are you all sure that you didn’t see them at dinner?” he asked. “Sure that they didn’t say they were going back to their house, or something like that? Let’s not cast them as guilty until we know for sure that we haven’t just missed them.”
A deafening silence reigned, and he turned to Manny. “Manny, get to their house and make sure they’re not in there. Greyson, cover the schoolhouse. Maybe they were just late going to dinner. Get back here as quickly as you can. I want to know if they’re actually gone.”
“Not that it’ll make any difference,” Alice noted quietly as they watched the two men dart out the door. She cast a glance up at Garrett, meeting his eyes. “It doesn’t matter if it was Cora and John or someone else. All that matters is that our only vehicle—and more than half of our supplies—just disappeared.”
“Maybe they were kidnapped,” Kristy said again.
She had been close with Cora, Garrett remembered, and didn’t want to admit that her friend might have done something like this—though Kristy herself stood to suffer the most as a consequence. Six months pregnant and already ungainly on her feet, there was no way she’d be able to make the trek to another town. The lack of vehicle meant she was stuck here, come hell or high water.
“By who?” Alice snapped. “Kristy, I know you want to give Cora the benefit of the doubt here, but who do you think would have come in and taken them?”
“The men from Helen Falls?” Kristy said quickly. “What if they came in, intent to hurt us, and Cora and John happened to be here at the time? What if they got caught up in something the bikers were already going to do? We hurt them by keeping the tanker, so it makes sense that they would try to hurt us back.”
“It does make sense,” Garrett said, walking up and grasping Kristy by the shoulder.
The bikers would most certainly have been looking for vengeance for the tanker, and this would have been the perfect way to get it. It didn’t even matter how they would have known that Garrett and the townspeople were packing up and getting ready to leave; the fact that they’d known, and had found all the supplies gathered in one place, would have been enough. Throw in two members of the town and it would have been a celebration for the bikers. It would also account for the loss of the couple.
Looking around, though, he could see that not everyone was so willing to give Cora and John the benefit of the doubt. Greyson was shaking his head firmly.
“I don’t see it,” he said. “If it was the bikers, they would have made a lot more noise, and a lot more trouble. Subtlety isn’t exactly their MO.”
And therein lay the problem with Kristy’s idea, Garrett thought. The bikers most definitely would have made more trouble if they’d been in town.
“After what we did in Helen Falls, they would have come in with guns blazing,” he agreed. “And it doesn’t really matter, regardless. Whether Cora and John left of their own accord or were kidnapped, the outcome is the same. Our one vehicle is gone, and most of our supplies are gone as well. Which means we’re not equipped to go traipsing around in the desert. We’re going to have to call our plan off.”
And do what? he wondered, as he watched the faces around him grow angrier. Everyone had been on board with the idea of leaving—well, everyone but Steve—and now that rug was suddenly being pulled out from under them. That hope was being yanked away from them. What could he replace it with?
His mind started rushing through the possibilities, but he felt just as lost as the rest of them. This had been his plan, and in the few hours since the disaster at Helen Falls, Garrett hadn’t had time to think of anything even remotely resembling a backup plan. This is already was the backup plan.
Still, the people were counting on him. He was still the leader here. So he started talking—not knowing what he was going to say until he said it.
He held his hands up and gestured for quiet. “I know what you’re feeling. Believe me, I’m feeling it too. But we can’t give up now. Things have changed, sure, but that doesn’t mean we just throw in the towel. Doesn’t mean we let them win. Does it? Anyone in here just want to let those bikers win?”
A pause, and Garrett got the sense that the people were starting to redirect their anger from Cora and John toward the bikers—the more solid enemies. The people who actually wanted to harm the inhabitants of this town.
There were murmurings of agreement and a few shouts of “Not on my watch!”
Garrett allowed himself a grim smile.
“Not on my watch, indeed. I didn’t want to stay here, you all know that. But this is our town. Our town. And as long as we’re stuck here, I say we make sure we can protect it, and protect ourselves! Those bikers might think they can just come in here and have their way with us. But what do they know? They certainly don’t know how strong the people of this town are. They don’t know that we’ll fight to the death for one another! And they don’t know that we’ll go to the ends of the earth to protect what’s ours!”
The people were cheering now, and Garrett had to stop and shake himself in surprise. He didn’t know where the words were coming from—most likely from that whiskey, he thought darkly—but he did now have a plan. A plan that had come to him while he was speaking—and a plan that he thought might just work.
“So what are we going to do?” he asked.
The words dropped into a heavy silence, and he knew that though the people were riled up, they weren’t exactly full of ideas. It was on him to come up with something, and quickly.
A roar erupted from the crowd, people jumping up and down and pumping their fists in what could only be called patriotic furor, and Garrett took a couple steps back, breathing hard. He came up against Alice, and cast a glance over his shoulder to see her lifting one eyebrow in speculation.
“Never knew you were such a rabble-rouser,” she said quietly. “Think it’ll work?”
Garrett paused a beat, trying to get his thoughts in order. “Whether it works or not, it’ll give them something to think about. Keep them from giving up. I don’t know how much stock I put in it, really. Our supplies are almost all gone. We don’t know if we have any water left at all. Don’t know whether we can last. Don’t know whether the bikers will actually attack—or whether we can beat them. No vehicles to use for scavenging other towns anymore. Do we really have anything left to fight for?”
Alice reached out and brushed his hand with her fingers. Just a slight touch, and then it was gone.
“Each other,” she answered. “We have each other left to fight for.”
Chapter 4
“Bet you’re glad now that I said the people walking should carry the weapons, rather than them being packed in the truck,” Garrett noted quietly to Alice as they watched the men of the town carrying the large array of rifles, handguns, and bullets out of the schoolhouse.