Storm Front (Collapse Book 3)

by Riley Flynn

  “I was watching. Should have been watching better.” Cam stopped every few words, coughing and spluttering. “They came around the corner so fast, carrying something. I tried to stop them. Got one. The other had a knife. No time to shout. He got away…”

  Alex could see the footprints in the snow, already starting to vanish.

  “Hold in there, Cam. We’re going to help you. We’re going to–”

  “Alex, stop.” Cam looked up at Alex, two big, baleful eyes. “I know it’s over. But you got to promise me-”

  “No, Cam. No. I’ll go get Krol. I’ll get Nelson. Timmy. Joan. Anyone. We’ll sew you up.”

  Cam shook his head.

  “Too deep for that, my friend. Too late.”

  “Timmy! Krol! Nelson! Anybody!” Alex was shouting in the direction of the farmhouse. Nothing happened. He screamed out again, his vocal cords tearing themselves apart with panic.

  “You got to promise me.” Cam pulled Alex in closer. “Promise me you’ll bring that kid back.”

  Alex pulled his head away, turned back to the farm. Someone had appeared at the door. Krol.

  “Help!” Alex shouted across the courtyard. “Help!”

  But Krol disappeared back into the house.

  “That son of a –”

  “Alex!” Cam grabbed his friend’s arm. Blood dripped onto the ground. They’d caught him in the lung. “Alex, listen to me.”

  “What is it, Cam? What is it? I’m going to get help, I promise you. I’m going to–”

  “You’ve helped me enough, my friend. You found me. Brought me here.”

  “I’m sorry for that, Cam. I’m so sorry.”

  “No. Don’t be. You’re not. It’s the best thing that happened to me. It gave me purpose. I belonged here. Alex, you…”

  The effort was too much. Cam coughed, his shoulders heaving and his bones cracking. But he continued.

  “I got to thank you, Alex. You and the others. You get that baby back. You do that. Levine, his people took it. They’re the enemy, not Krol. Don’t get distracted. Alex, you have to…”

  Cam trailed off. He looked up at Alex, his eyes blinking slow. A deep, painful breath.

  “Trust him, Alex. Trust yourself. You… you can…”

  Cam’s eyes closed. He slumped forwards.

  Alex, on his knees, began to shiver. There was no way of telling how long he stayed there. He felt the warmth fade from Cam. The snow began to build around them, covering up the scarlet streaks on the ground.

  After what felt like an eternity, Alex stood up. With care, he unfolded Cam from his arms.

  There was a choice, he knew.

  Go and get the baby or run away into the night.

  The two options in front of Alex stretched away like an empty freeway in either direction. It didn’t take long to decide. Only a moment. A flash. An instant.

  The road to Athena would be plagued on every side. Wherever Levine was, wherever they’d taken that little girl, Alex would get there. But first, he would need his guns.

  In bare feet, Alex began to walk back towards the farm. He couldn’t feel the cold. Not anymore.

  22

  Alex stepped into the house in the eye of his own furious storm.

  Blood had soaked into his shirt and his feet were numb with the cold. Everything hurt. But there was only one thought in his mind: get the baby back.

  The farmhouse wasn’t empty. It wasn’t quiet. Nelson arrived in the room, took one look at Alex and ran past him, out into the night.

  Krol was next to arrive. He was carrying the oxygen tank but not wearing the mask. His eyes, two little lumps of coal, burrowed in to Alex’s own. He stared and stared until, at last, Alex spoke.

  “I’m taking the guns.”

  All Krol did was stare. Behind him, Alex heard footsteps. He heard Nelson before he saw him.

  “Cam’s dead.” The man was panting, his hot breath blowing a cloud into the dark room. Even saying the words aloud hurry Alex. “Him and one of Levine’s.”

  Alex didn’t need to turn around. He kept staring at Krol, daring the man to stop him.

  “I’m taking the guns. And a car.”

  With that, Alex turned and walked away. No one followed. The bustle and shouting of the house resumed, everyone running in separate circles.

  But not Alex. He knew what he had to do. Get the guns and then get the baby back. It helped to keep things simple.

  Time was moving slowly. Alex, still numb, felt isolated. He could see his thoughts taking form in his mind. Everything was crystal clear. Either it was the cold or the shock or the adrenaline, but something inside him was making this much easier.

  Don’t get the guns first, his thoughts declared. First, get your clothes.

  So he did. Alex went back to his room, the room he’d shared with Cam and Timmy. It was dark, just as he’d left it. The sneakers were on the floor, the sweater on the end of the bed. He took it all, as well as the leather motorcycle jacket he’d robbed from the store in Detroit so many months ago.

  Over time, it had been scratched and torn and stained and ripped. All of Alex’s adventures – his whole journey – were worn as scars on the jacket. He pulled it on, feeling warmer.

  Next, he went to the kitchen. A collection of flashlights was kept in a safe place. They were only to be used in emergencies. Better to save the batteries. Alex took two.

  When he had seen Jamie and Jenna opening the shed with the small arsenal of guns, they’d used a key. Alex didn’t bother. That door was opening either way.

  Walking across the courtyard, dark except for the lights floating out of the house’s windows, slowly becoming covered in snow, Alex paused. Someone had called his name. He turned around.

  “Alex, man! Come on! Why aren’t you listening?”

  It was Timmy. His eyes were red. He knew what had happened.

  “I’m going to fix it, Timmy.”

  “Fix what?”

  “Everything. I’m going to fix it all.”

  “How, man?” Timmy’s voice was breaking. “How?”

  Alex didn’t know. Not yet. But he knew he was going into Athena.

  “I’m going to get the guns. You want to help me?”

  Timmy looked around, over his shoulder, back at the farmhouse.

  “Their guns? Our guns? You think that’ll work? You said yourself, Levine lives on a compound, he’s got loads of people there with him.”

  It was the first time Alex had actually stopped and looked at his friend for months. He’d grown used to the scrawny Timmy. The man recovering from the virus, half dead on his feet, about to be blown over by a strong breeze.

  But times had changed. All that time on the farm, with regular sleep, meals, and work had healed him. He had filled out, more than when he was healthy. Aside from the emotional distress, Timmy looked almost well.

  “What’s going on with Joan?” Alex wanted to change the subject. “Did you help her?”

  “She’s… she’s still out. We looked at her but, well, she’s the only one with any real medical training. She’s asleep. I hope it’s sleeping, anyway. I didn’t want to wake her up. I didn’t want to tell her…”

  “I understand.”

  “Do you? Do you, man?”

  “Yeah, Timmy, I–”

  “Because it looks like you’re tooling up for a fight. You’re heading to Levine to do God knows what and have you even thought about us? What happens when you don’t come back? I’ve got to tell Joan that you and Cam are dead? That her little girl is still missing?”

  None of this had crossed Alex’s mind. The thought of the news being broken, of his friends sitting around, mourning. He could feel his heart strings being wrenched. But it didn’t matter.

  “I have to go, Timmy. I have to try. You’re not going to stop me. You may as well help.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” Timmy was shouting. “When have you ever done anything other than precisely what you wanted to do? For months, we’ve done exac
tly what you wanted. Exactly. No one’s questioned you. And now look where we are.”

  Standing in the falling snow, Alex let Timmy shout. The words had to be said. They were true, after all.

  “We travelled all the way down here, for what? To get in some gang war with some religious nut and… with whatever the hell Krol is? And now Cam’s dead. And Joan’s kid’s gone. And now you’re going…”

  Timmy’s voice slowed to a stop and his mouth hung open as he stared at Alex.

  “I’m coming back, Timmy.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do. I’m coming back and I’m bringing that kid back with me.”

  “I know. I know I can’t stop you. I just don’t want to lose another… Not you.”

  “You can help me.”

  “How? By getting myself killed, too? Cam was a soldier, he knew how to handle himself properly. Now he’s dead. What chance do I have?”

  “No. They jumped him. It wasn’t a fair fight.” Alex put his arm around his friend’s shoulder. “You’ve got to be vigilant. You have to take care of Joan. You have to bury Cam. I don’t want those other people to do it. It has to be you.”

  Timmy didn’t speak. Alex knew why but he didn’t say it. He spoke for both of them.

  “There’s a place, down the track, beside the big oak tree. That’s the spot. You need to hurry. The ground will be too cold soon.”

  They looked around the courtyard together. Cam’s body was behind the barn, not far away.

  “After that, you’ve got the important job. You’re going to have to prepare the house. Make it ready. Whether I’m successful or not, people are coming. We don’t want them to get inside. Talk to Krol. Talk to Jamie. You and them plan it out, okay?”

  A nod from Timmy. It was agreed.

  They stood together for a moment under the snow. Then it was time.

  Alex went to the gun store, Timmy to find a shovel.

  The door to the shed which hid the arsenal of weapons was sealed shut. A shiny new padlock and Alex didn’t have the key. He didn’t have his lockpicks.

  The padlock was held in place by a piece of metal bolted to the old wooden door. Alex aimed just below it, kicking it with the heel of his foot. The wood splintered and fell apart. He was inside.

  The flashlight clicked into life. Alex ran the beam across the rows of guns. There were far more here than he’d ever hope to carry. First things first, Alex looked for the important pieces.

  Walking up and down the shed, scanning the rows, Alex couldn’t find it. They’d stored it somewhere. Handguns, SMGs, shotguns. All of them gathered together. Alex took two familiar-looking pistols. He was always terrible with manufacturer names and models. That was Timmy’s role. But he knew what he liked. They might have been Glocks. They felt familiar in the hand.

  Ammo, too. As much as he could carry. Two handguns, a long-barreled shotgun and plenty of shells, and then – right down at the end of the shed – Alex’s light fell across what he’d been looking for all the long. The Savage. His rifle. A gift from Cam, almost. It felt right.

  The strap for the Savage slid over his shoulder. The two pistols – unloaded – were tucked down the back of his pants. He stacked up as many cardboard boxes of bullets and shells as he could and laid the shotgun across the top, holding the flashlight in his mouth.

  An awkward haul. Enough to do some damage.

  Alex crossed the courtyard again. The snow was maybe half an inch thick now and falling faster.

  Stepping into the house, he went straight for the kitchen, dumping everything on the table.

  The house was alive. People were buzzing around everywhere. Any time a person passed through the kitchen – Jenna or Reni – they’d stop and stare. Alex sat there, methodically checking guns and slipping rounds into magazines. Getting ready.

  None of them said a word.

  Alex was torn between taking his time, ensuring each and every magazine was loaded perfectly, and running out of the house right that second and driving to Athena as fast as he could. But if he was going to do this, he would have to do it properly. There was only one chance. He couldn’t get it wrong.

  As he worked, the familiar clunk echoed through the hallway. Alex didn’t need to look up to see who was approaching.

  “You’re not going to stop me, Krol.” He didn’t take his eyes off the bullets. He kept working.

  The footsteps shuffled and clunked closer and closer. Into the kitchen. Up to the table. Krol pulled out a chair and sat down. Alex looked up. A lantern between them lit up the room. The scars and creases on the old man’s face were shadows and valleys in this light.

  “I’m not here to stop you.”

  “Then you don’t have anything to say. Let me work.”

  “I can’t let you go alone.”

  Alex knew what that meant.

  “No.” It was a simple answer. An honest one. “You’re not coming.”

  “I have to, Alex. This is my fault. You will suffer alone.”

  “Better than suffering with you, Krol.”

  The metallic click of the rounds being slipped into magazines rippled through the kitchen. The thuds and bangs of the house continued. They were getting ready, Alex knew. The other people knew what was coming.

  “I am to blame for this, Alex. I must be allowed to redeem myself.”

  “I don’t owe you anything. I’m going alone.” Alex talked with a flat voice. Emotionless. A liar’s voice.

  Krol just sat and watched. He wasn’t wearing the mask. His breathing still rasped and croaked. An uncomfortable silence dominated the room. Alex cracked first.

  “It’s my fault, Krol. My mistakes. I have to be the one who fixes this.”

  “Even if it were true, Alex, you would be a fool to go alone.”

  “I won’t be alone.” Alex held up a pistol. “I have my friends with me.”

  “I know Levine. I lived there. I know the town, the entrance, the layout. I know the way these people think, Alex. I know it all. I am responsible for the monster Levine became. I must be there to stop him.”

  Alex loaded ammo. He was worried Krol had convinced him. Two people were better than one, even if it just meant another body to soak up the bullets.

  “If we do this—” Alex stopped working and spoke slowly. “—we do it my way. You hear?”

  Krol nodded.

  “So you accept?”

  What the hell kind of decision is this? Alex stared into the man’s pitiless black eyes, searching for some scratch of humanity. Some miniscule sign that said he could trust Krol. Should they try together or should he try alone? Some choice.

  A plan formed in the back of Alex’s mind. He pushed a box of ammo and a magazine towards Krol.

  “Load it.”

  23

  The weapons piled up on the backseat of the car. For every moment they spent preparing, Levine’s people were farther away. Hardly half an hour had passed since the screams and the fighting but it felt like years. Alex opened the driver’s door.

  “You don’t have any bigger cars? Anything with a bit of power?”

  With Krol, he was standing beside the same beat-up sedan he’d driven to Athena, the car driven by the man whose body he’d seen in a shallow grave in the barn.

  “This one has a tank of gas.”

  It was a fair argument. Alex looked around the inside. It was empty but for the guns. They didn’t need anything else.

  Before he could get inside the car, Timmy came running out of the house.

  “Alex! Alex!”

  Krol was already inside the car, waiting to go. Alex looked away into the night, into the dark, through the falling snowflakes. They had a long way to go.

  “What is it, Timmy? Can it wait?”

  Looking over his shoulder, around the courtyard, Timmy tucked in close to Alex. He began to whisper.

  “This isn’t a good idea, man.”

  “I know that. But have you got a better one?”

  “No, it’
s just… I was thinking about what you said. About all of them. We can’t trust them. Krol. Any of the others.”

  “We don’t have much choice right now. At least they seem to hate Levine.”

  “Yeah, man. But… What if they’re working together? What if it’s just a big plan? A cover up, to catch you? What if they’re working with the CIA? What if they want a cure and, like, your blood or the baby or the black market or –”

  Timmy’s voice was speeding up, approaching terminal velocity. Alex could barely distinguish the words.

  “Slow down, Timmy. I know. I know it’s bad. But we’ve got to do something.”

  “Yeah, but –”

  “I’m on top of it, Timmy. Trust me. You’re in charge here, right? Get everything in place. Defenses. Did you find the place to bury Cam?”

  “Not yet. Nelson went out looking–” Timmy’s voice almost cracked, the emotion breaking through.

  “Go and do it now. We need to be ready when I get back. I trust you, Timmy.”

  Alex patted his friend on the back and ducked down inside the car. One hand on the door, he leaned out one last time.

  “I trust you, Timmy. Get it done.”

  Timmy stood there, watching. Nodding. The door slammed shut.

  It was quiet in the car. Just the sound of Krol breathing. The snow hitting the windshield didn’t make a sound. Alex tried the engine. It worked.

  “You’re ready?” That scratchy, metallic voice. Alex had to learn not to hate it.

  “Almost.”

  Alex reached into the pocket of his jacket. Pulling out a pistol, he handed it to Krol.

  “This is yours. Take care of it. Hide it. I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

  Looking at the gun, Krol took it and slid it into the depths of his heavy coat. He nodded.

  “Thank you, Alex.”

  Don’t thank me just yet, Alex thought to himself. The gun wasn’t loaded. He didn’t trust Krol that much. Testing the pedals, he pulled the car out of the courtyard and on to the track. Next stop, Athena.

  The journey was so familiar, Alex let his body take over. Decades old muscle memory kicked into gear and he didn’t have to think hard about navigating the roads. He just drove.