Fallen Earth | Book 1 | Remnants

by Morrow, Jason D.

  Right now, all that mattered was whether or not she was safe.

  Leland and Henry stayed close to the trees as the sun rose in the morning sky. He thought about the statistics several times and decided that there was absolutely no chance there weren’t inmates in Hope. It was the closest town to the prison, and there were nearly a thousand prisoners who had escaped. There were just too many inmates to ignore a small town so near the prison. That wasn’t even considering Savage.

  Leland looked at Henry and noticed the bags under the fugitive’s eyes. The boy probably hadn’t slept in two days now. Knowing he was going to escape the prison was probably too much for him to sleep the night before. He looked ragged, exhausted, and Leland wondered if his judgment was any good right now. Leland wondered if his own judgment was any good right now. He felt as tired as Henry looked.

  When the two of them reached the top of the hill overlooking Hope, Leland first felt a sense of relief. The town was quiet. It was Saturday morning and there was no traffic on the road. This was typical of a Saturday morning. In fact, Saturdays were often Leland’s favorite mornings to be patrolling because no one was out, the only sound he heard was the birds loudly chirping, and he felt truly alone with his thoughts.

  Leland knew he shouldn’t feel relief because that meant he was letting his guard down. Could he really have been worried about nothing? Had he really uncuffed the fugitive in order to help him against an army of inmates who had taken over his town—inmates who weren’t actually there? The moment they realized Hope would be empty of inmates, Leland would have to do a reversal. He couldn’t just let Henry escape. He would have to take him in.

  He tried not to let his thoughts show on his face—the betrayal that would put Henry back in the cuffs.

  “You see anything?” Leland asked.

  Henry didn’t answer. When Leland looked at him, the fugitive was staring at the town intently, probably wishing for there to be a large group of convicts. He wondered if he sensed Leland’s thoughts.

  Henry looked into the town from their spot in the woods and shook his head.

  “What do you think about getting closer?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Leland looked at Henry and took a long, deep breath through his nose.

  “You think we should get closer?” Leland shrugged. “I suppose we’re gonna have to because I don’t see anybody.”

  Henry nodded. He was about to move when he saw a figure near a bank on the corner of the street. The figure was tiny from this distance, and he couldn’t quite make out what the person was wearing, but he was moving.

  “You wouldn’t happen to have a scope or something like that with you?”

  Leland looked at Henry for a moment and shook his head slowly.

  “Yeah, I mean I didn’t think you would. I thought cops had something for every situation, though. Don’t you have, like, mini binoculars on your belt or something?”

  “Let’s get a little closer,” Leland said.

  The two of them followed the trail that went downhill which took away some of their view but brought them to a point where they could see directly through to Main Street. Henry could still see the figure near the bank, and as they moved it became clearer and clearer that the man was wearing khaki. Khaki shirt. Khaki pants.

  Prison jumpsuit.

  Then there was another man in a jumpsuit. Then another. And another. Each of them carrying weapons.

  Leland swore and Henry looked at him.

  “What do you want to do, Sheriff?”

  Leland shook his head. “I need to get to my house. I need to see if Gwen is still there. It’s early, and if no one has gone to the house, then she’s probably still in bed. And if that’s the case, then I’m gonna take her and get her to safety before we do anything else.”

  “Just because there are a couple, doesn’t mean there are a bunch of others.”

  “At the moment I’m only worried about one person in particular,” Leland said.

  “Can we get to your house without being seen?”

  Leland nodded. “Yeah, follow me.”

  Henry trailed behind Leland. With Leland’s quick pace and Henry behind, he thought about taking off and letting Leland deal with this on his own. In fact, there had been several times throughout the night, particularly without his handcuffs, when Henry could’ve just taken off and the sheriff would not have followed. Ever since Leland had killed that man near the prison, the mood of the night had changed.

  At first, it didn’t matter whether or not there was a massive power outage, or if the rest of the world was on fire, all that mattered to Leland was getting Henry back to the prison like he was supposed to. Now, all that mattered was getting to his daughter and Leland wouldn’t have been bothered by Henry leaving.

  He was sure Leland saw him as any other prisoner, but Henry didn’t see it that way. He didn’t have much in common with those men. The only thing he had in common with those men was the jumpsuit.

  The jumpsuit…

  “Leland wait.”

  The sheriff stopped at a tree and leaned against it, his breath coming out in bursts of white vapor. “Yeah?”

  “You can send me into the town,” Henry said. “I look like everybody else.” He pulled up his hoodie to remind Leland of the jumpsuit he wore.

  “Don’t you think you would be recognized?”

  “I didn’t exactly make a lot of friends while I was in the prison. And I bet a lot of the prisoners don’t even know that I escaped. I don’t think that information had gotten around to everyone before the power outage. Even if it had, there is only a handful of people I don’t want to run into because of my escape. They are probably long gone by now so it doesn’t even matter.”

  “Is that really how it works? You don’t think the guy that was supposed to escape instead of you will care that you double-crossed him? Even if he is out, if he sees you, he’s going to kill you. And he won’t even blink before he does it.”

  Henry knew Leland was right, but that didn’t mean Henry was wrong. Leland suspected that the prisoners in the town were with Jim Savage. Henry did not run with Savage’s crowd, so it was a good chance that Henry wouldn’t know any of the prisoners in the town and none of the prisoners would know who he was. Henry had purposefully kept a low profile during his time at Lone Oak, partially because he didn’t feel like he belonged there in the first place. He never claimed to be an innocent man like a lot of inmates did, but he certainly didn’t identify with the others.

  For some reason, Henry had the need to prove that to Leland. It made no sense on the surface, but how else would he show the world he wasn’t the person they threw into prison. He wasn’t a ruthless killer. He cared about people. He cared about the lives of those in danger. He was convinced that if the judge could have seen his soul, his true intentions, Henry would have never been sentenced, not for life, at least.

  Would proving himself to the sheriff benefit him? Would it change the fact that when this was all over, Henry would still go back to prison?

  Something gnawed at him. Something inside him wanted to help the sheriff, needed to help the sheriff.

  Maybe Henry just needed to prove to himself that he wasn’t the monster the jury thought he was. Maybe if he helped the sheriff, he wouldn’t have to live with his guilt any longer. Even if it meant going back to prison, maybe he could live with himself. Maybe he could feel peace.

  The two of them moved quickly, and soon they were within the city limits. Henry’s fingers opened and closed as he scanned the streets, wishing for something in his hands to help in a fight if one arose. Leland charged forward and about left Henry behind, forcing him to keep up.

  At a house, where the edge of the woods met a paved road, Leland slowed his pace and crouched low as he approached it, motioning for Henry to do the same. Henry looked in every direction, silently wishing he was only wearing his jumpsuit.

  This place must have been Leland’s house. Their approach was slow, but when Lela
nd saw the door smashed open and a window broken out near the back porch, he stopped and held up a finger to his lips, then cupped his ear and pointed to the other side of the house.

  Henry strained to listen, then heard it. Voices. Men standing outside Leland’s house near the front. Henry thought it could have been anyone. With the power outage and the spotting of prisoners in jumpsuits, people may have come to the sheriff’s house to make him aware of the situation. But something inside him said this wasn’t the case. Something told him the voices were owned by a few inmates who had been told to guard the house and wait for Leland.

  The sheriff edged closer to the house until he was on the back porch. Against Henry’s better judgment, he followed. When he looked over Leland’s shoulder, he could see through a window clear into the living room and out the window toward the front driveway.

  Four prisoners stood together, each of them armed and waiting for the sheriff to show up.

  If there was any doubt in Henry’s mind about Leland’s fears, it was gone now. The house had been broken into. His daughter was probably a hostage. And someone was out to get Leland. Worse still, the entire town had been taken over by prisoners, and there was no help on the way.

  Leland met Henry’s eyes and Henry was prepared to back away from the porch and creep back toward the woods to regroup. Instead, Leland took a deep breath and went into the house.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  If Gwen didn’t help Miss Morgan, the old woman would die.

  What bad luck. Forgetting such an important medicine? Last night of all nights? At first, Gwen thought Miss Morgan’s reaction was from the stress of being torn away from her bed in the middle of the night by armed prisoners, but certainly the shock of that would have worn off by now. Still, the older woman was sweating and had barely opened her eyes since they had come into the library.

  Gwen knew she wasn’t going to get out with the large inmate, Blake, guarding her, but in the last few minutes, he had been replaced by another, younger inmate who was a little too loose with the pistol in his hands. Blake obviously hated the idea of being stuck as a guard, Gwen could tell, but the young guard had been more than eager for the responsibility when Blake had grabbed him by the collar and told him they needed to switch jobs.

  “You’re guarding,” Blake had told him.

  At first, the younger inmate protested, then Blake pointed at Gwen and said that Savage wanted her guarded and that should be enough for him.

  “You’re one of Savage’s people, aren’t you?” Blake had asked. “Don’t you want to do everything he says?”

  The young inmate ignored Blake’s question, his eyes falling on Gwen, and they had hardly left since. He seemed too shy to talk to her, though every time he looked away, he would swing around and look back at her out of the corner of his eye as though she wouldn’t notice.

  His attention would have normally made Gwen feel uncomfortable, but she thought she could potentially use the prisoner’s temporary infatuation to her advantage.

  “What’s your name?” Gwen finally asked him.

  He looked around as though he were afraid of being caught talking to her. Then he said, “Mitchell. What’s yours?”

  “Gwen.”

  He nodded then looked down at his shoes.

  Gwen felt for the knife in her sweatshirt. It was a fold-out knife, just long enough to cut a person’s throat. Stab then slash. Stab then slash.

  She felt more confident about getting away from Mitchell than from Blake, though Mitchell seemed a little more careless with his movements. He swung his arms, his finger touching the trigger of his gun. Gwen wasn’t sure if Mitchell had ever held a gun before, but if he had, it was obvious no one ever taught him the proper way to handle one. One slip and he could fire off a round and kill somebody, though she wasn’t sure he would care.

  “Please,” a man from about five feet away said to the guard. It was Mr. Tinsley. “Why are you keeping us all in here like this? There’s no point.”

  A fire caught in Mitchell’s eyes—something Gwen hadn’t expected. “Shut up!” he screamed, then he lifted his rifle in the air and smashed the butt of it into Mr. Tinsley’s head, knocking the man to the floor. A few screams went out and blood trickled from Mr. Tinsley’s new wound. Mitchell then stood back where he was, the anger drained from his face and he started casually swinging his arms again. The only difference was that this time he looked at Gwen out of the corner of his eye and grinned at her, as though he had just tried to impress her with how powerful he was.

  On the inside, Gwen was horrified, terrified. On the outside, she lowered her gaze and allowed a hint of a smile form at the edge of her lips. Then slowly, she bit her lower lip as if to tell him that such a display of power had caught her eye. She didn’t want to encourage him to do it again, but she saw the opening and went for it.

  “You’re strong,” she said.

  Mitchell couldn’t hide his smile. It was obvious he didn’t have the same self-control as Blake, and that he was just enjoying the ride. This could work in Gwen’s favor. She stared at him for a few seconds, then looked away. When she glanced back at him, Mitchell’s eyes hadn’t left her. She had caught his attention.

  She let a few minutes crawl by, making sure he caught her looking at him several times. The last time, she let her eyes travel up and down, from his head to his toe. Now, he was staring at her with no pretense of feeling shy or awkward. Gwen stood up and got close to him one hand by her side, the other holding the knife in her hoodie.

  “Mitchell,” she said, motioning to Miss Morgan. “My friend here is sick. Do you think we could go grab her medicine at her house? She’s not going to make it if she doesn’t get it.”

  Mitchell looked past her and shook his head. “She looks fine.”

  “No, you don’t understand,” Gwen said. She reached her free hand to his arm and touched his gently. Then, her fingers gripped him firmly, not in a threatening way, but inviting him, enticing him. He had been stuck in a prison filled with men for who knew how long? When was the last time he’d felt the touch of a woman?

  He looked down at her hand, then into her eyes. “You’re wanting me to go with you?”

  “That’s the idea.” The charade made her feel nauseous. There was nothing about this man that attracted her. She had heard about people who sought out criminals and studied their cases, falling in love with them without knowing a thing about them, though they were sure their target was innocent. Relationships would form, even with lifers, and the two would continue the fantasy of being in love.

  She imagined there was only one thought going through Mitchell’s head, so his ability to judge the outcome of this situation was non-existent.

  He smiled when he looked down at her hand, then he looked around to make sure none of the other prisoners could see him. “Where is it?”

  “A couple of blocks,” she said. “I’m guessing it won’t take long.” She dared to let her thumb rub the side of his arm and it was everything she could do to keep herself from retching.

  Mitchell stood there for a moment as though there was a battle in his mind—the logical one screaming for him to backhand the girl flirting with him and move away, and the one that wanted to take her to the empty house where no one could see them. The silent offer was too much, and finally, he nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”

  Gwen swallowed then bent down and grabbed Miss Morgan’s shoulders. “I’m going to be back in a few minutes. I’m going to get your medicine.”

  Miss Morgan looked her in the eye for the first time that morning, then leaned closer to Gwen, hugging her neck. Then, she whispered into Gwen’s ear. “There’s a gun in the nightstand next to my bed. Bring it, would you?”

  Gwen didn’t acknowledge Miss Morgan’s words, she didn’t even nod as she stood and turned away. She looked at Mitchell and she was ready.

  Stab then slash. Stab then slash.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Leland was careful as he went into his
house. He did his best to avoid the floorboards he knew would creak and kept his feet as light as possible. He knew there were four guards outside, but he didn’t know if there was anyone inside. These weren’t trained guards. They were prisoners. That’s why the four of them were out front talking to each other instead of diligently creating a perimeter around the house watching for the sheriff. It was to Leland’s advantage that he wasn’t dealing with trained professionals, but the problem was he still had no idea how many of them there actually were. If the house was clear, then all he had to worry about right now was four.

  A quick scan of the house showed him that no one was inside waiting for him. He jumped slightly when he heard Henry trip on the edge of the carpet near the living room, and both of them immediately jerked their heads toward the windows to the front of the house. None of the inmates seemed to notice the noise. Leland looked back at Henry with wide eyes and clenched teeth. His knuckles were white as he gripped the shotgun, ready to let pellets fly.

  Leland turned and headed for Gwen’s bedroom. When he got there he was relieved to see that there was no sign of a struggle. Her bed wasn’t made, but it didn’t look like she had been ripped from her sheets. Nothing had been knocked over, nothing seemed out of place, at least no more than usual. That at least helped him feel relieved to know there was a possibility that she got out on her own. That meant there was a possibility she was safe.