“Well, look at this little pup,” he said. His voice sounded like someone stirring rocks with a stick. “Did you see anything interesting? Were we as impressive as you hoped we’d be?” He smiled, a big, toothy grin, all yellow teeth.
Owen expected violence, and he tensed. But Trent stood up and beckoned his men to lift Owen. They picked him off the ground, and he managed to get his feet under him.
“Would you like something to drink?” Trent asked. He pulled a small silver flask out of an inner pocket of his jacket. “This here is too strong for the likes of you, but we’ve got soft drinks.” He unscrewed the lid and took a sip.
Owen was shocked. The man sounded friendly all of a sudden. Was it genuine? He couldn’t tell, and he didn’t know how to respond, afraid it was some sort of trick. Trent signaled someone behind him, and Owen heard what sounded like someone rooting around in a cooler. A moment later, another tough ran up to Trent and handed him a glass bottle of Coca-Cola.
“Here you go, kid,” Trent said.
He thrust the bottle at Owen, and, not knowing what else to do, Owen took it. He took a sip. It had been quite a while since he’d had a soft drink, and it tasted far too sweet. Still, he was both thirsty and nervous, so he quickly downed the whole bottle.
“This kid’s a little too clean to be just another highway rat,” Trent said. “You looked damn-near civilized. What’s your story? Were you looking for something in particular, or did we just happen to be in your way?”
Owen had finished his drink, and one of the burly men took the empty bottle from him. “I just…I saw the smoke.” He couldn’t tell the truth, of course, but what was the safest lie? Trent was hard to read. The man didn’t seem angry.
“You just saw the smoke,” Trent said. He gestured at Owen’s guards, and they released their hold on him. Owen felt blood rushing down his arms, and his fingertips began to tingle. “Come and have a seat, young pup.”
He gestured to a small camp stool nearby. Owen didn’t feel like sitting down, but he didn’t dare refuse. Approaching the stool, he passed close to Trent and smelled a sickening combination of booze and body odor. He sat down, daring to glance back in the direction of the roadblock. He didn’t see Mike anywhere. Hopefully, his uncle had fled to safety.
“All right, level with me,” Trent said, still smiling. He squatted in front of Owen, hands clasped in front of him. “What were you looking for? Someone sent you here, didn’t they? It’s okay. You can tell me. We’re friends now.”
“No, sir,” Owen said, aware of the quaver in his voice. “No one sent me. I just happened to be in the area.”
“Are you sure about that?” Trent asked, the smile widening into something disturbing. “Just tell me. Don’t be afraid. We’re all friends here.”
Owen shuddered. “No, sir,” he managed to say. “No one…sent me.”
Trent nodded—once, slowly—and made the tiniest of hand motions to someone behind Owen. Suddenly, hands seized him again, pulling his arms behind his back, tipping him backward so that he was off balance. In that moment, Trent’s smile disappeared, and Owen saw hateful monster behind the mask, the dark glimmer in his eyes.
Owen saw the punch coming at the last possible second, and he flinched. Trent hit him square in the jaw. With a burst of pain and light, Owen’s head rocked back on his shoulders, and his breath left him in a rush. The burst of pain gave way to a strange, tingling numbness.
“I’m not as stupid as you think,” Trent said, grabbing the front of Owen’s shirt and pulling him forward. “I know you’re from the town. You had your chance to play nice, and you didn’t take it. So where is Pike?”
The whole bottom half of Owen’s face began to throb with his heartbeat, and he could feel his lips already beginning to swell. He groaned, his head lolling forward. In that moment, despite the danger, he felt the first real glimmer of anger.
“Have you checked the jail?” he said.
“My men have been there,” Trent roared. “We turned the sheriff’s office upside down looking for him. Where is he?”
“I don’t know,” Owen groaned. “Maybe he escaped.”
“He already escaped once,” Trent said, idly scratching at his whiskery chin. “If he was still out there, he would’ve found us, or we would’ve found him.”
Pike escaped? Owen was shocked to hear this. When had he escaped? And if so, why hadn’t the sheriff said anything? Maybe he had. Maybe he’d already discussed it with the other adults.
“State Troopers got him then,” Owen said, withering beneath the flinty gaze of the gang leader. “That must be it.”
Trent nodded, pursing his chapped lips. “Maybe so, little pup. Maybe so.” He seemed to consider this a moment. “Tell me about the town. Who’s running the show around here? What are they hiding? Tell me everything.”
“I…I…don’t know much,” Owen said.
Trent nodded again, smiled briefly, then punched Owen in the stomach. Owen’s doubled over, his arms still restrained by Trent’s thugs. He struggled to catch his breath and tried not to vomit his guts out.
“You’re going to tell me at least one thing of value,” Trent said, “or I’m going to work you over with my fists. Got it? We’re real close to not being friends anymore, young pup. What a shame that would be.”
“They…they…” He had to say something, but he couldn’t think clearly. “They already know you’re here. The whole town knows you’re here, and they’re all hiding from you, waiting for you to leave.”
Instantly, he regretted the words. He’d said too much, but Trent clapped him on the shoulder.
“There you go,” he said. “That’s information I can use. What we’re looking for is food. Have they stocked up? Where is it?”
“I don’t know,” Owen said, aching. He could barely pay attention.
“And I don’t believe you,” Trent said. “You’ve got about five seconds to give me an answer I can use.”
“Okay, okay,” Owen said. His lips felt about twice as big, and he tasted blood. He knew he had to say something. “They’ve got food. They’ve got food somewhere.”
“Where?” Trent asked, softly, the fingers of one massive hand massaging the knuckles of the other.
“The…the high school.” Owen blurted it out without thinking. “There’s food at the high school.” He slumped back into the grip of the guards, ashamed at his own weakness.
Trent laughed and rose. “I believe you, little pup,” he said. Then he flicked at hand at the guards. “Release him. He won’t go anywhere. He’s a good boy.”
As soon as Owen’s arms were released, he crumpled forward, falling off the stool and landing on his hands and knees in the dirt, wracked with pain. He felt the sting of tears in his eyes, as men began moving frantically all around him.
“Mount up, boys,” Trent shouted. “We’ve got our target. Let’s go. Let’s go!”
All was chaos and noise in the camp, but Owen squeezed his eyes shut and pressed himself against the ground, hoping somehow to be overlooked. Trent began speaking to one of the guards who had first dragged Owen into the camp.
“Dirko, we’re not going to give them a chance to run out the back of the building,” Trent said. “We hit it hard from all sides. Got it?”
“Got it, boss,” the other man replied. “We’ll send someone ahead to locate all the doors.”
“That’s it,” Trent said. “If we move quickly, we can seize the building in one charge. They chose a really dumb place to hide their food.”
Wracked with guilt, Owen pushed himself off the ground. What could he do to stop the nightmare he’d just created? From the meticulous way they planned the attack, it sounded like Trent and his men might have had either military or law enforcement backgrounds. It would explain why they were all such enormous beasts.
“We’ll overwhelm them with numbers,” Trent said. “Enter the town with our whole gang, head straight to the high school, and subdue anyone we meet along the way. Secure all weapons
, food, and supplies. The whole thing shouldn’t take more than a couple hours. Let’s go.” And then, loud enough for the whole camp to hear, “Roll out, people. We’re on the warpath!”
Men and women all over the camp began to whoop, holler, and cheer. Owen heard motorcycles revving to life, and the only comfort he could take was that Beth’s house was not in the initial path of destruction.
23
“How could they be so stupid?” Jodi said. “What possible reason would either of them have to leave the house?”
Shane couldn’t respond to Jodi, afraid he might snap at her out of sheer frustration. There was no sane reason why Mike and Owen would’ve left the house without telling anybody. Something bad must have happened. Everyone was gathered in the living room now to fret and worry, but Shane couldn’t just stand around and wonder. They were out there somewhere—for whatever reason—and he intended to find them.
He made his way through the foyer, opening the coat closet and reaching up to the gun shelf. Mike and Owen hadn’t taken any of the guns. Shane wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad sign, but it certainly meant they couldn’t protect themselves. He grabbed the holster of his Glock 17 and clipped it to his belt.
“Don’t do it,” James said, the former sheriff approaching him from the living room. “I know you want to go out there and find them, but you’ll only make things worse. Whatever they did, I’m sure they meant to help us.”
“I can’t believe either of them are dumb enough to leave the house without explanation,” Shane said. “Are we going to have to lock the doors from the inside from now on?”
“People get stir crazy,” James said, “and start to make rash decisions.”
Shane shut the closet door and started back toward the living room. As he was passing through the foyer, the front door swung open. Startled, he spun to face the door, bringing his fists up. And there stood Mike, his shirt and jeans covered in grass stains. He was sweating profusely, as if he’d just run a marathon.
“Mike! Where have you been?” Shane said.
Without answering, Mike stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him, and stumbled into the living room. Everyone turned to watch as he made his way to the couch and practically fell onto the cushions.
“Where is Owen?” Jodi said.
“Guys, I’m so sorry,” Mike replied. He seemed on the verge of tears. “I didn’t want the kid to come with me. I tried to get him to go back, but he shut the gate and followed me anyway.”
“What are you talking about?” Shane said, moving into the living room. “Where is he?”
“I was planning to go by myself,” Mike said. “I just wanted to get a good look at their camp. We need to know the actual strength of this gang in terms of numbers. My position was perfect. They never would have seen me, but somehow the kid snuck away. He tried to get closer—too close—and they grabbed him.”
Shane felt a wave of cold terror. “What do you mean by that? Who grabbed him?”
“The gang,” Mike said, with a wave of his arm. “They got the kid and dragged him into the camp.”
“Oh, God, no!” Jodi said.
Amelia burst into tears and fled the living room, running down the hall to the bathroom. Libby went after her.
“Where is he now?” Shane said.
“Still there, as far as I know,” Mike replied. “I came back here as fast as I could.”
The trembling fear that had flooded his body was slowly turning into a something savage and hateful. Shane realized he was grinding his teeth, and he opened his mouth to stop it.
“That’s it,” he said. “I’m going.”
Blind with rage, he rushed back to the coat closet and flung open the door, reaching to the gun shelf. This time, he went for the AR-15, but as he grabbed it, he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. He turned to see James standing behind him.
“Don’t do it,” James said.
“You’re way outnumbered,” Mike added, coming up beside him. “I’ve seen them with my own eyes. There’s twenty to thirty armed thugs out there.”
Furious, Shane put an arm against Mike’s chest and forced him back against the wall. “Damn you, Mike. Why did you let him go out there? What were you thinking?”
“I’m sorry,” Mike said, tears spilling freely down his cheeks now. “I tried to get him to go back, but he insisted. It’s my fault. I know it.”
“Well, I’m not leaving him out there.” Shane pulled the AR-15 off the shelf and slipped the strap over his shoulder. “No matter the risk.”
When he tried to head for the front door, James stepped in his way.
“It’s not wrong to go after your son,” James said, “but you can’t do it half-cocked. They’ll gun you down as soon as they see the rifle, and that’ll be the end of it. We need a plan.”
Shane stared hard at the man for a few seconds. What sort of plan could possibly help this situation? It seemed best to rush in, guns blazing, before the gang knew what hit them. In his present state of mind, he couldn’t think of any plan more complex than that.
Shane realized people were starting to surround him in the foyer. Jodi was crying, but she reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. Amelia and Libby had come out of the bathroom, and they approached as well.
“If we lose you, too, it’ll be worse,” Jodi said.
Her words stung, and he hung his head.
And then a sobbing Amelia said, “You can’t leave him out there. They’ll kill him. I don’t want my baby to be born without his father.”
That cut through Shane’s fear and anger like a knife. Shocked, he lifted his gaze to Amelia. Libby held her as she cried.
“Your…baby?” he said, numbly. “What do you mean by that?”
“I’m pregnant,” Amelia said, grabbing her belly, “and Owen is the father. We can’t let him die, sir. We can’t!”
He’s ruined his life. That was Shane’s first thought. He looked at his wife, and Jodi nodded at him. She already knew! Suddenly, her mysterious visit to the pharmacy made sense. They intended to hide this from me. And on the heels of that, he thought again, Owen has ruined his life.
He checked himself. After all, did a pregnancy really ruin anything? Turning back to Amelia, he saw her brokenness, her face twisted in grief. In the old world, an unplanned pregnancy might have derailed Owen’s college plans, ruining both his and Amelia’s futures. Did that really matter now? College wasn’t even on the table. In the new world, all that mattered was survival.
“Okay, so be it,” he said to Amelia. “You’re pregnant. I don’t need to know how or why this happened. I guess it doesn’t matter. But if Owen is the father, then he needs to be safe, so I’m going to get him back. He helped make this baby, so he’s going to help raise it.” He turned back to James. “What do you figure they’ll do with him? Will they leave him at the camp or bring him into town?”
“I’m sure they’ll question him first,” James said.
Shane didn’t want to know what this interrogation might entail. “Fortunately, Owen doesn’t know very much.”
“He knows the townsfolk are hiding at the high school,” James reminded him. “If they force it out of him…”
“Okay, we’ll check there first,” Shane said. “If we find them at the high school, we hit them hard before they have a chance to respond.”
He expected pushback from James—from anyone—but nobody disagreed, not even Jodi. After a moment, James nodded.
“We might be able to get the drop on them,” the former sheriff said. “I doubt we can take out the whole gang, even if they don’t see us coming, but we might force a retreat. Whatever the case, we’re there to rescue Owen, so we have to keep our eyes open.”
And if we can kill every single last one of the gang members, Shane thought, so much the better.
“Okay, we know what we need to do then,” he said. He scanned the crowd around him until he found Corbin. “I want Beth, Jodi, Violet, Kaylee, Amelia, Libby, Bauer, and Ruby dow
n in the subbasement. It’s the only safe place in the house—maybe in the whole town. The rest of us—”
“Wait just a minute,” Beth said, cutting him off. “Why do you include Jodi and me in that list?”
“We are both fully capable of firing a gun and hitting a target,” Jodi added, heat in her voice.
Shane had to pause a moment to collect himself. He couldn’t have this argument right now. He was too close to rage, and it took every ounce of willpower to keep it together. “I know you are fully capable of shooting people,” he said, somehow managing to maintain an even tone, “and it might come to that. However, neither of you are in perfect health, so for now, I am asking you, I am begging you, to please go down into the subbasement with the others. Keep an eye on them. It’s the single most important thing you can do right now. James, Corbin, Mike, and I are heading to the high school. We’re taking the Glock, the Tikka, The AR-15, and the shotgun with us.”
Beth and Jodi were quiet. When Shane looked at them, he saw a change in their expressions. The slight defensive scowl on Jodi’s face had utterly disappeared. Clearly, she had heard the undercurrent in his voice and knew what was boiling inside of him.
“Beth and I won’t do any good if we’re down in the subbasement,” she said, after a moment. “Put the others down there, yes, I agree, but we’ll do more good if we’re up here keeping an eye on the property. We can always retreat if need be.”
“Fine,” Shane said. “In that case, I want Corbin to stay here with you. He can keep the Tikka. The three of you—Jodi, Beth, and Corbin—can take up strategic points around the house to watch for intruders. The minute it looks like they might breach the property, retreat to the subbasement with the others. Can you agree to that?”
Jodi and Beth both nodded, though neither seemed entirely pleased.
“Sir,” Corbin said, pushing through the crowd, “if it looks like these gang members are going to breach the property, I will draw their full attention and run to the woods behind the house. If I make it obvious enough, they might follow me, and I can either lose them or shoot them in the woods while Beth and Jodi safely retreat.”
Surviving The End (Book 3): New World Page 22