After The EMP Box Set [Books 7-9]: The Hope Trilogy

by Tate, Harley

  Tracy clamped her lips shut to keep from cursing. She wished her husband were there. He would be able to make the hard decisions and go off in search of a vaccine right then without any regard for the consequences. Walter had a capacity to do the right thing even if it was a horrible experience. Tracy wasn’t so blessed.

  She wanted nothing more than to put on her coat and hit the road, but her daughter needed her to stay. There were no good options. Tracy glanced up at Madison. Her face was deathly pale apart from two little circles of flame on either cheek. Her eyelids fluttered as she moaned.

  Tracy asked one more time. “Are you sure we shouldn’t close it?”

  “I’m sure.” Brianna stood up with the empty bowl and Tracy lifted Madison’s leg out of the bucket before setting her foot on a dry towel. The wound still oozed, but most of the bleeding had stopped.

  Tracy forced herself to stand up and carried the bucket into the kitchen area.

  As Brianna tucked the alcohol back on the shelf, she turned to Tracy. “Did you see where the fox went?”

  “No. By the time I found Madison, it was long gone.”

  “Do you really think it was sick?”

  Tracy glanced back at Madison and dropped her voice. “I have no idea. Even if it didn’t have rabies, it could have something else. We need antibiotics and a vaccine.”

  “We’ve looked every time we’ve gone on a run.” Frustration raised the pitch in Brianna’s voice. “Pharmacies are trashed, hospitals are worse. Even the warehouses have been hit.”

  “We don’t have a choice.”

  Brianna shut the cabinet door. “Maybe Colt and Walter already found what we need. They’ve been gone two days. That has to mean something, right?”

  Tracy opened her mouth to respond when the door to the cabin burst open. Colt stood in the entryway, forehead creased with dirt and worry.

  A pit opened up in Tracy’s stomach. “What’s happened?”

  Colt pinned her with a stare. “Walter’s disappeared.”

  She gripped the counter for support. “What do you mean, disappeared?”

  “I can’t find him anywhere. He’s missing.”

  Chapter Five

  TRACY

  Clifton Compound

  Near Truckee, CA

  5:30 p.m.

  Colt shut out the darkness behind him as he strode into the cabin and closed the door. His neck muscles stood at attention, tight and strained.

  Tracy waited for him to shed his coat before she spoke again. “I thought you were working together. How did you get separated?”

  Colt ran both hands over his head to the back of his neck and held them there as he spoke. “We had a system. Walter gave me cover while I entered the store. We’ve done it a million times before. He’s better with the shotgun, I’m better with a handgun. It makes sense.”

  He pulled out a chair and sat down beside Madison, registering her condition for the first time. “Are you okay?” His gaze landed on her wounded leg and Colt jerked his head up in alarm. “Was there an intruder? Is everyone all right?”

  Dani spoke up. “She tangled with a fox in a snare. We’re okay.”

  Colt leaned back in relief and Tracy bit her tongue to keep from pushing. Every second that ticked by increased her worry tenfold. At last, he continued. “I was in the pharmacy way in the back of a grocery store on the other side of Truckee, elbow-deep in broken boxes and twisted shelves.”

  He focused on Tracy and her heart thudded. “A shot rang out. I couldn’t tell if it was Walter or not, so I hightailed it back outside. He wasn’t there.”

  She swallowed. “Any sign of him?”

  Colt hesitated and glanced at Madison. “A few drops of blood.”

  Brianna reached out to steady Tracy and she took the young woman’s hand.

  “I searched on foot for an hour, but couldn’t find him anywhere. I was about to give up when I spotted something in the snow a few blocks from the store.”

  Tracy tensed.

  Colt pulled out something gold and shiny. Walter’s watch. She staggered back. “Walter got that as a retirement present when he left active duty.” She remembered the party his fellow officers threw the weekend they moved. They made him open the watch in front of everyone. He’d put it on and never taken it off.

  “Was there anything else?”

  “Tire tracks. I can’t be sure they were related, but I saw them outside the grocery store, too.”

  “Where did they go?”

  “I hightailed it to the Jeep and followed the tracks as best I could. I lost them at a major intersection.” He held the watch out to Tracy, obvious tension in his voice. “I’m sorry.”

  She snatched it from his fingers, barely able to contain her anger. It bubbled below the surface and flushed her skin.

  Brianna and Anne asked a few questions, but Tracy wasn’t listening. All she could think about was Walter out there somewhere, needing help, while Colt sat in the comfort of the kitchen. She jerked her hand out of Brianna’s and stepped forward. Everyone turned to stare.

  “You’re telling us you don’t know where he is, or who took him, or if he’s even alive?”

  Colt’s jaw ticked. “That’s right.”

  “Then why are you here? Why aren’t you out looking for him?” Tracy’s voice rose just shy of hysterical. “How could you just leave him out there?”

  Dani stepped forward, hands on her hips. “Colt told you why. He didn’t know where to look!”

  “It’s okay.” Colt reached out and took Dani by the arm, but she shrugged him off.

  “No, it’s not. She shouldn’t be mad at you.”

  Colt managed a sad smile. “Actually I agree with Tracy.” He turned to her and the pain in his eyes deflated her rage.

  “You do?”

  He nodded. “We can’t leave him out there. I only came back because I needed more people. I can’t search for him alone.”

  “I’ll go with you.” Tracy walked toward her boots and coat, but Anne held out a hand.

  “We should get everyone together and decide as a group.”

  Tracy sidestepped and reached for her things. “Walter’s my husband. It’s only right.”

  Anne leaned close enough to whisper. “Madison’s your daughter.”

  Tracy froze.

  “If Walter doesn’t come back, she’s going to need her mother. What about the vaccine?”

  Brianna walked toward the door. “I’ll go find everyone. They should be about done in the barn.” She eased out the front door and Tracy stepped back to Madison’s side. She put a hand on her daughter’s forehead. It was hot to the touch.

  As much as she hated to admit it, Anne was right. She needed to stay by her daughter’s side. But that meant putting someone else’s life in danger for her benefit. It didn’t sit easy. She turned to Colt. “I’m sorry I jumped on you.”

  Colt nodded. “I deserve it. I shouldn’t have left him on guard for so long.”

  Tracy waved him off. “It’s not your fault. Walter’s a grown man. He can make his own decisions.”

  The door opened and Peyton, Larkin, and Brianna filed in, followed by her father. Everyone except Tracy’s husband now crowded into the kitchen area with expressions ranging from anger to disbelief.

  Brianna shut the door. “I filled them in.”

  Colt turned to address the men. “We need to head back out to search for Walter, the sooner the better. I’m thinking three people and Lottie, too.”

  “Why the dog? Won’t she get in the way?” Larkin found a spot on the wall and leaned against it. Career army, Major James Larkin spent a few months at Walter Reed rehabbing at the same time as Colt. They’d run into each other in Oregon and after a crazy few weeks, ended up together at the Cliftons’ place.

  Colt shook his head. “She’s got an amazing nose. If anyone can figure out where Walter went, it’s her.”

  Larkin raised his hand. “Then count me in.”

  “Me, too.” Dani flashed a tight smile
at Tracy. “I’m good in the city.”

  Brianna threw up her hand. “I can go, too. I’m one of the best shots. If he’s in trouble, I can help.”

  Even Peyton volunteered, raising his hand as soon as Brianna finished. “I owe Walter my life. It wouldn’t be fair not to go look for him.” The kid might look like a football player, but he was all squishy insides and teddy bear emotions.

  Tracy smiled.

  That everyone was willing to help her husband meant a lot, but they couldn’t all go. “Colt’s right. It should be a small group. With Madison hurt, we need to keep some people here who can defend the place.”

  Peyton ducked down to Madison’s side. The pair exchanged a few words while the rest of the group broke out into overlapping conversations and arguments.

  Larkin eased over to Brianna and waved his hand at the cabin. “You need to stay here. If everyone competent with a gun goes on this mission, the place will be defenseless.”

  Brianna pushed her unruly curls off her face and stood her ground. “My dad’s a better shot than me and Tracy and Peyton can hold their own.”

  Dani spoke up. “Larkin’s right. I’m not as good as you out in the forest, but I know my way around a city. If Walter’s holed up somewhere in Truckee, I can find him and not get caught doing it.”

  “The girl’s right.” Larkin nodded in Dani’s direction. “She’s right up there with Lottie in the urban tracking.”

  Tracy frowned, but Colt stood up and closed the distance between them. He took her hands. “I know you want to go, but Madison is hurt. She needs you.”

  As much as it pained her to admit, she understood. “I know.”

  “Dani and Larkin are right. They’re the best in the city.”

  Tracy fought to keep her emotions in check. Over the past seven months, she’d come to know the three strangers well, but they still weren’t family. Relying on them to find her husband wasn’t easy.

  Colt gave her hands one more squeeze before letting go. “We’ll leave as soon as we can.”

  Dani headed toward the door. “If anyone can find him, we can.” She smiled, brightening her whole face in hope. “Just watch, we’ll all be back before you know it.”

  “Be careful.”

  “Always.” Dani slipped out the door and Larkin followed. Colt leaned down to Madison and said a few words that Tracy couldn’t hear. Her daughter glanced at her and nodded before Colt followed the others out the door.

  Madison called out. “Mom, they’ll find him.”

  She smiled at her daughter as a wave of tears filled her eyes. Willing them back, she pretended to busy herself with the discarded gear by the door. It would take all her strength not to follow the group to Truckee and help in the search, but it was the right thing to do. Walter would never forgive her if something happened to Madison because Tracy had been worried about him.

  Tracy sucked in a lungful of air and forced it out her mouth. She had to have faith that Walter was alive and that Colt and the others could find him.

  Peyton stood up and wrapped Tracy in a sideways hug. “He’ll be all right, Mrs. S. You have to believe that.”

  She patted Peyton’s arm and he let go. “Can you stay with Madison for a while? I need to get some air.”

  He nodded and Tracy bent to grab her jacket before scrunching her feet in her boots and easing out the door.

  Chapter Six

  WALTER

  Time and Location Unknown

  Damp, clammy cold permeated his consciousness like dirty water seeping from a used washcloth tossed on the floor. Walter blinked, attempting to bring the world into focus. Nothing happened.

  Eyes open or shut, the void all around stayed the same shade of black. He was either dead and trapped in some limbo of his own making or in a windowless jail cell in the land of the living.

  Maybe another view will help. Walter rolled off his left arm and his hands slammed into the floor. He jerked against whatever bound his wrists and a searing ball of pain exploded in his right shoulder. Sweat beaded across his forehead as he fell forward once more.

  Not dead. Good to know.

  Scant memories of the moments before he lost consciousness hit him in waves along with the pain. He’d been outside the grocery store, watching and waiting for Colt. The wind battered his face until tears leaked from his eyes and began to freeze in tracks down his cheeks.

  He’d had no choice but to flip up his hood. But the parka’s insulation muffled his hearing. No footsteps sloshing through melting snow. No tires crunching along the roadway.

  Nothing until the bullet ripped his right shoulder apart and he fell face-first onto the ground. Walter twisted on the concrete, gritting his teeth against the throbbing ache as he poked at the wound with his chin.

  Expecting a bloody mess, he jerked back when his stubbled skin found gauze. Someone cleaned him up and treated the wound. He eased down onto his side and exhaled as the pain lessened. Whoever took him wanted him alive.

  What for?

  He tried to remember what happened next. Snow in his nose and eyes. Pain clouding his thoughts. His hood hid the sun and muffled the noises behind him, but he’d sworn he heard voices. Were they shouting? Was there more gunfire?

  I can’t remember.

  He closed his eyes and leaned back against the ground. He remembered spitting out bits of dirt and ice as he reached for the shotgun. It stuck out of the snow just out of reach. With his right shoulder on fire, he’d been awkward and slow.

  More noise. A car. Something heavy and solid behind him. Was it a group? A single person? He shook his head.

  Everything was a blur after that. Judging by the low throb in the back of his head, he could guess why. Gun stocks had a way of erasing memories and consciousness.

  Walter rolled forward enough to rest his forehead on the ground. The floor wasn’t sealed, and the cold and wet from the dirt beneath the concrete seeped to the surface. A basement? Warehouse? Fallout shelter?

  He had no idea. Without more light, he wouldn’t know unless he got up and felt around. Gunshot wound or not, he couldn’t lie there and wait for his captors to come back. With a grunt, Walter used his head to push off and struggle up to his knees.

  Still nothing but darkness. He closed his eyes and listened. A faint hum. Something mechanical. A generator? Boiler? Hot water heater?

  It could be anything.

  He sniffed back congestion and breathed deep. Moist earth, cool air. His bare arms pricked with cold, but he didn’t shiver. Either the place had a heat source or he was underground. Root cellars and caves stayed temperate all year, but he didn’t smell the brackish decay of living things long since forgotten.

  Bracing himself for a rush of pain, Walter jabbed his right knee up and found the ground with his foot. Tipping himself forward, he managed to wobble and strain and drag his body up to stand. Vertigo rushed over him and he gagged on a rising tide of spit.

  Walter gritted his teeth and swallowed. Falling down wasn’t an option. If he ripped open the bullet wound, he could bleed out and no one would know.

  He closed his eyes and stood still, breathing in and out through his nose until the threat of fainting subsided. For all he knew, he’d been unconscious for hours. Lack of food and water and a gunshot wound could turn even the most seasoned of warriors into a liability. And Walter was just a middle-aged man who chopped wood and tended to a farm most days of the week.

  Visions of his wife and daughter and the rest of their group filled his mind. He couldn’t give up. Tracy depended on him. Madison was only twenty years old. Not that the current state of affairs lent themselves to weddings and college graduations and happily ever after, but he still hoped to live long enough to see his daughter happy.

  Bending his wrists, he strained to reach the binds securing his hands. No matter how hard he struggled, he couldn’t reach them. A tentative tug later and ensuing pain, he guessed zip ties. Uninjured, he might be able to break free. A few painful twists of his wrists and he co
uld probably stretch them enough to get out. But with a bullet hole in his shoulder? Not a chance.

  Walter sagged in defeat. Only after sitting for some time did he realize his wrists were smooth and stuck together. My watch! He’d worn the gold watch for years, only taking it off to shower and work out. Where was it? It couldn’t have fallen off when he hit the ground. Did someone take it?

  He grumbled. If someone on the other side of the door walked in wearing it, Walter would make them pay. The thought gave him a surge of energy and he eased forward in the dark. With small, shuffling steps, he walked until his toe grazed something solid.

  Walter turned around and his fingers brushed concrete. Not poured, but block. Keeping his fingers against the wall, he shuffled to the left. Nothing but concrete until he hit a seam. He repeated the procedure over and over until he’d circled the room twice, once at his normal height and once in a crouch.

  All he found was a handful of concrete steps and a single door. Smooth, painted metal, and warm to the touch, the door was the only way in or out of the entire room. That explained the dark. Walter sagged against the wall and relieved the pressure on his shoulder from the zip ties.

  He couldn’t stay in there forever. Someone would come for him, and when they did, it could be the end of his journey. The door was his only option. He eased over to it once more and pitched himself forward until he could scrabble up the steps and reach the handle.

  It slipped in his fingers.

  He tried again. Twist. Twist. Locked.

  Walter frowned. If he couldn’t escape, then Colt was his best hope. He slid down the wall, sitting on the top step with his head against the door handle. If anyone tried to open it, he would feel it. It wasn’t the best way to defend himself, but he would need to conserve his strength for whatever happened next.

  A rattle in his skull broke through a dreamless sleep and Walter jerked awake. He blinked at the darkness, confused and discombobulated until it happened again: the doorknob wiggled against his head.