She retrieved her phone. Thirteen new texts, but it wasn't connected! Maybe they'd come through last night, cascading down like the blizzarding snow. One flake would lay her low. The answer to the question, “Would anyone miss her?” seemed clear. She started replying, but realized again that she had no service. Her phone had downloaded as it could, leaving her an overwhelming mess of love to drown her. But until she got solid service, she could not say a thing in return.
With a happy sigh she started through the messages. Tomorrow she would go find service and one of those USB booster packs to run her cell off of batteries. She settled back into the blanket. The last message was from her father. It was short. “Lizzie? It's your dad. I love you. Hope you're all right. Wish you had come to me before you left. I need to talk to you. Call me ASAP.” She checked which phone it had come from, the scrambled one or his Provo phone—the secret one. What wouldn't he want to talk about on that line? Shit. It was going to be a long night. She'd better get some sleep and head out first thing.
Zach froze as Foote slipped out of his coat and tossed in the vehicle, his hand patting down his handgun. The men from the train were approaching.
“Sampson, you’re with me.” Foote turned to Zach. There was resolve in his eyes. “Lt. Riley, keep the troops chilled out. If they’d wanted us dead they’d have started shooting a long time ago.”
“Yes, sir.” Zach wanted to go along, but being left in charge was a sign of Foote’s respect. Still, if this was just a ploy to take out the leaders, he was going to take the rest of the men in shooting.
The two parties met half way and hands were shaken, introductions made.
Zach allowed himself to relax a little. What did they want? Where these people behind Mr. Ray’s death? He stayed still and calm, watching. For the sake of the men behind him he tried to appear to be patiently waiting while his brain raced. He flashed through scenarios; their defensive position was crap, but if they retreated, the boys on the train would have to come after them.
Finally, Will and the Colonel turned and strode toward him.
Zach was poised to react. If they were shot in the back…
But nothing happened.
The Colonel seemed more relaxed as he motioned Zach over. “They say they’re not interested in undoing what Mr. Ray and the city did, but want to continue the work of collecting and fortifying Provo.
“What are their demands?”
"It's a friendly takeover apparently," Foote said, tight lipped. "They say nobody will get hurt if we go along peacefully and we can all re-enlist under the new order in pretty much the same rank and position. They say nothing will change except who's in command."
Zach knew what Foote was thinking. None of their supposed soldiers were up for an armed confrontation. He was too good a commander to let it get to that if there was a peaceful way out. "Nothing will change?" Zach asked. "Do you really believe that?"
"That is a chance I have to take, because the alternative is not an option, Riley."
“So what’s next, sir?”
“We can go forward, but leave our weapons on the train. They promise re-enlistment bonuses.”
“Why would we do that?”
“Implication seems to be that someone needs to take over after we let our leader get killed.”
“But, sir,” Zach said. That one had hit too close to home.
“Riley,” Foote growled, “Major Guerrero has a mission for you. Get TOC on the radio.”
Did Foote know about Lizzie? “Yes, sir,” Zach said. So Mannie was a Major and in charge of Tactical Operations. He stepped a few strides away and punched the radio call button. “Crows TOC. Crows TOC, this is Murder Two.
Static popped. “Murder Two this is Crows TOC, Zach?”
“Major Guerrero?”
“Yeah. Lizzie’s out of bounds.”
“Shit.” What he was afraid of. “Sir.”
“Colonel’s willing to send you out on a dual purpose mission.”
“Permission to speak frankly, sir?”
“Zach. It’s Mannie. Tell me.”
“I’m needed here. We… I can’t keep pulling Lizzie’s bacon out of the fire while everything else goes to hell.” There was silence on the other end. “Do you copy, TOC?”
“Roger, Murder Two. I’ll do what I can from here.”
“Murder Two out.” Zach released the talk button. His hands were shaking. He tensed them into fists and then stretched them back as he walked back to Foote and Will. “I’m staying with you, sir.”
Foote gave him a long, hard look. Then turned back to Will. “Lt. Sampson, you’re going to be taking a message to Benson.
Will looked perplexed. “Are they going to let us drive away?”
“I don’t know,” Foote said. “It’s nearly dark enough now. Get some men and have them push the last jeep back along the road until they can’t be seen from the trains. If anything happens, start it up and drive fast. They’ve got vehicles on the other side of the track, but I don’t think they’re going to move the train until morning. Riley, get him going and then report back to me.”
Will and Zach hurried to the rear of the line.
Foote was right, from the last jeep, Zach couldn’t see the train. He explained Foote’s plan to the men nearby. They seemed happy to be doing something, anything.
“Will?”
His buddy still looked nervous. “See you in Provo in a couple days.”
“Yeah,” Will said, his jaw set tight. “Be careful.”
“You, too. Everything’s gonna be fine. Nobody wants a war. They just want our stuff.” Zach was skeptical that it was really that simple, but it wasn’t like that was going to change anything. “Go.” Will hopped into the last jeep and pulled it out of gear. Zach pointed at the vehicle and made a pushing motion with his hands at the men who stood poised to push. They heaved into it and the vehicle started to move. “Good luck, my friend.”
Chapter Thirty-One
THE NEXT DAY WAS QUIET, leaving the countryside asleep, blanketed in snow. With the sun providing light, but still behind the hills, Lizzie plunged forward through several inches of new snow. Someplace nearby there was cell signal.
She turned on her phone and walked back the way she thought she'd come. A few minutes later she found a Y in the road. Which way? They were each coated with a clean layer of soft, downy snow. No signal. She started along the street to the right; pretty sure it was west, unless she had gotten completely turned around.
Her phone buzzed at her hip. She jerked it out of her pocket, careful not to let it fall. New voice-mails.
The first was another from her father. “Call me. I have to talk to you.”
She tried calling him back, but the phone wouldn't connect. She wandered around in wider and wider circles, hunting for bars. When her foot stepped down into a ditch, she decided to continue along the road. In a few hundred more steps her phone jumped from no bars to two bars.
She stopped walking and called her father.
“Lizzie?”
“Daddy. Are Rachael and Saj...?”
“They’re okay. They’re releasing them this morning.”
“Shit! This is insane. We are grown adults. They can’t make us stay. This is worse than the breeders! Is Duke around? Maybe he can get them out?”
There was no answer.
“Daddy? Are you still there?”
“Yeah.” His voice was soft, quiet, sad.
“I thought I'd lost you.”
“Elizabeth.”
She could hear some hesitation in his voice. “What is it, Daddy? Just tell me.”
“Duke shot Mr. Ray.”
Lizzie's mouth worked like a dog-person and nothing came out.
“Elizabeth, I’m sorry. I saw him run. With two rifles in his hands.”
“Duke’s no assassin.”
“Lizzie.”
“He’s not, Daddy.”
“How do you know that?” Her father paused again.
“I
know.” But even as the words escaped her lips she wondered. Had she been fooled? It had certainly happened before. “Tell me what you saw.”
She heard him take a deep breath. “We were out at the Olmsted Power Station, north of Provo. After the shots, there were two people on the ridge. I saw Duke clear as day.”
“Duke told me he was going hunting up north.”
“I'm sorry. It was a specialty rifle, not just for shooting deer. Elizabeth, come home—Saj needs you.”
“Don’t use Saj against me Daddy.” She had to be strong for Saj now. Her voice dropped to a whisper, husky with tears. “One day, he will understand.”
“Lizzie, don't—”
“Bye, daddy. I love you.” Tears dripped on the phone as she ended the call. She tried Duke's number, the Glen line first. It went directly to voice-mail. “Lizzie. Call me. Now.”
Then she tried the Provo-network phone—the one she was certain their spies would be listening on. “Hey, Duke. Just wanted to know how the date went with Aubri.” She heard the jealousy in her own voice, even if it made no sense.
She opened Maps on her phone and GPS pinpointed her location. The freeway entrance was to her left. Where would Duke go? The house with the dead guy in the foyer? He’d presented it like it was a backup location, but it was in The Shitty. No way. And she had the feeling that even that secret place he shared with her might be a ruse. Duke kept a lot to himself—even from her.
North, she decided. Into the more deserted lands. To find him, she needed a vehicle. She needed to drive.
Lizzie hurried back to the farmhouse. In the garage was an old Ford pickup. She looked up over the edge of the open window and breathed a sigh of relief. The keys were in it and it was an automatic transmission.
She pulled the door open and tossed her pack inside. The garage door was not electric, she found the cord, and yanked so hard that both of her feet lifted off the ground. The door creaked upward. She tried it again and it came up most of the way. Snow piled up where the wind had blown it into a wall up against the door, but there wasn’t much to break through before the snow became a thin blanket on the drive.
Lizzie crossed her fingers and climbed in. “William and Emily please let me borrow your truck—and let me be able to do this for once.” She twisted the key and the truck coughed. The gauge read Full, but the truck was old.
She cranked it again. “Come on, baby.” The engine growled to life, loud in the enclosed space of the garage. “Thanks.” She patted the dash. “Good girl.” She popped it into reverse and busted through the snow drift, swerving a bit as she backed down the driveway, narrowly missing a few trees. She kept it together and didn’t give up when she was out on the road and slowly making her way toward the freeway—thrilled to actually be doing it.
Her phone buzzed. She stopped, letting the truck idle in the middle of the road. A text from Duke on the GlenPhone. 14388 S. Bridgefield Dr. Draper.
Lizzie punched in the address. Im 20 min away. Driving. She texted.
You driving???
Yes. She’d rather not be driving in the daylight—rather not be driving at all, really.
Drive careful.
She shoved it back into drive, nudging the gas to get it moving. The rear of the truck swung on the icy road and she let out an embarrassing squeak. Good thing nobody was around to see. That seemed to really be helping. She didn’t have her dad or Duke looking over her shoulder, judging her driving abilities. She straightened out the truck and rolled down the road with something that could almost be called confidence. She kept in the grooves of other tire tracks, trying not to think of who could have made them.
Ten minutes later, her phone buzzed again. She slowed the pickup to the speed of to a slow walk. “Yeah?”
“How close are you?”
“Dunno.”
“Okay. Take the Draper exit, go right and then left almost immediately. Pull in and park at the state liquor store. I’ll meet you there.”
“I’m not here to drink with you, Duke,” she joked.
“Cute. Now shut up and drive.”
By some miracle, she made it. Ahead someone was running toward her. Her first instinct was to drive the other way, but then she recognized Duke. She ignored a handicapped sign, parked and jumped out. They caught each other at the halfway point and hugged hard.
“We’re both outlaws now, Duke. How did we get into this mess?” He might be a killer, but he was all she had. And whatever happened, there had to be an explanation or a reason.
“Let’s get indoors.” Duke released her and guided her up the street to a super-sized two story home.
“You like the place?” He gestured at the solid oak door and porcelain tile entryway. “No dead guy and no basement, but the neighborhood’s nice. This one has solar heating and electric. Not sure how long it will run…” He stared at her. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to see you again.”
“Yeah, being an assassin on the run is hard on a friendship.” Lizzie watched him carefully, but he didn’t get the hurt look she’d expected. Worry crept in at the edges of her certainty.
“I didn’t do it, Lizzie. I know they think I did. It was Travis.”
Immense relief lifted her heart, and then it sank again with cold dread. “But he’s locked up.”
“A ruthless willingness to kill folks is useful these days. Clearly it got him sprung. What’s happening back in The City?”
“Tony DiSilvio has taken over, I think.” Lizzie looked him straight in the eyes. “My dad saw you.”
“Yeah, DiSilvio and his guards shot at me when I tried to take Travis back. They were in shoot first, ask later mode. So I ran.” Duke’s eyes shone like a cornered wolf. “I told you I was going hunting. But it wasn’t deer. I found out he was on the loose and I wasn’t going to wait around for him to hurt you.”
Lizzie continued to watch him. How could she tell if he was lying?
“You believe me, don’t you?” His earnest worry that she wouldn’t was genuine.
“Duke. Don’t be stupid.” Lizzie lay her hand on his shoulder. “As much as everything didn’t work out… I know you. I never for a minute thought you shot Mr. Ray. Now if DiSilvio had been shot, I might have wondered.”
He huffed and gave her a humorless smile.
“That was a joke.”
“But is it?”
“What?”
“He’s not a joke. I’ve been thinking a lot being out here alone. Maybe I’m just paranoid.”
“No. He wigs me out, too.” Lizzie shivered thinking about the new laws requiring women to be barefoot and pregnant—DiSilvio was behind it, she was certain.
“I should have shot Travis. I had him in my sights. But I couldn’t do it. Not like he does. Cold blood. So, I told him to drop his gun, he did. And I forced him back toward the plant.”
Duke’s eyes seemed to look through Lizzie back into that night. “Then the shooting started. He ran. I went after him. His gun is stashed at the safe house. Not sure if it can clear me, but I’m hoping.”
“Duke, you’re not a killer.” Lizzie touched his cheek. “At least not like him. I couldn’t kill him either.”
“But he needs to die.” Duke sucked air through flared nostrils, then blew it out. “Enough politics. God, it’s good to see you.” He sighed.
But she could tell he was glad to have someone on his side. “What are your plans?” she asked, yawning.
“My first plan is to get you to bed—”
He shook his head at her arched brows.
“Not like that. How’s Aubri.”
“What do you mean? Why would I know?”
“Come off it, Lizzie. Don’t tell me you didn’t talk to her again.”
“Why would I?”
“God, you can be stupid. You should stop running away sometime, long enough for you to catch up to yourself.”
“Whatever. I am tired,” she said, unsure she wanted to go down the rabbit hole he was leading her into, right now. “This pregna
ncy is a killer for energy. Speaking of pregnancy, where’s the bathroom?”
He squinted at her. “Down the hall to the right. There’s a clean bedroom across the hall. Bed’s probably been made for a year.”
Lizzie walked down, her fingers fidgeting. Yeah, she’d thought about Aubri. But what did that have to do with anything?
When she came out of the bathroom, she could hear music coming from the room next door. It was slightly ajar. She knocked. “Duke?”
“Yeah, come on in.”
The lights on the bedside glowed, their shades covered with t-shirts to keep the light low. The windows had cardboard duct-taped over them. “Paranoid much?”
“Not feeling particularly safe in this country. Some people actually think I killed their demi-god.”
Lizzie sat on the bed. “Just because you’re paranoid, doesn’t mean people aren’t out to get you.”
“You sound like you lived that.”
“Yeah. Can I take a nap here? I don’t really want to be alone.”
Duke nodded and Lizzie lay down, slipping under the comforter. She lay her head on the pillow facing away from Duke.
She closed her eyes and tried to breathe long and slow. But her brain was racing. It wouldn’t let go. Finally, she rolled over and found his bemused stare. “What did you mean by the comment about Aubri?”
He put down the map he was studying. “Listen, I don’t want to sound like th“Sampson, you’re with me.e cliché guy who got dumped, but it’s kind of obvious you’re a lesbian, or at least bi. You looked at Aubri, the first night you met her, the way I wish you would look at me, for even a second.”
Lizzie bit her lip. “I may have experimented with girls, but—”
“It’s not an experiment. It’s your normal.”
Tears misted her eyes. She’d spent so long trying to have a “normal” relationship with a guy, she’d never stopped to consider that her normal would be different. Which was stupid. She’d never been mainstream.
Deserted Lands (Book 2): Straight Into Darkness Page 27