by Lisa Harris
“Honestly, it’s been years since I even thought about him. I think he floated from job to job for a few years, then I lost track of him. Last I heard he was living in Houston, but that was several years ago.”
Nate frowned. The clock was ticking and they still didn’t know exactly what they were up against.
“Come back to Dallas with us,” Nate said. “Clearly Stephen thought you could help stop this. If you could work with our techs to find out what Stephen was working on, maybe you could find out what his solution was.”
Macbain looked at his watch. “I’m sorry, but your five minutes is way over, and I have no desire to get involved with your people or the FBI—”
“Stephen believed you could stop what they are doing,” Gracie said. “If the people who killed him have his work, the authorities are going to have a hard time stopping them.”
“You don’t get it, do you? I don’t hack anymore, good or bad. I spend my time working on upping the production of my solar power, and I’ve just started beekeeping. That’s it.”
Nate hesitated, then pulled out the one card he still had. “I met your daughter yesterday. I’m the one she gave the drawing to.”
Macbain frowned. “Don’t go there.”
“I also understand she’s a diabetic,” he continued.
“I said, don’t go there.”
“You do realize what will happen if the grid goes down?” Nate said.
“I don’t need to answer that again.”
“Is your ex-wife prepared?”
“Hardly. Like most of America, she lives in a house run by electricity, drives a fully computerized car, and relies on her smartphone.”
“Which means your daughter will be right in the middle of it,” Gracie said. “ATMs won’t work, the banks will stay closed, and once cash becomes worthless, which it will, people will have to barter in order to survive. There will be no cell phones and no way to communicate. What happens to the police and firefighters at that point? What happens when the electricity goes out? There will be no fuel, and no water, which means no flushing the toilet and no clean water. Law and order will break down. It’s going to be chaos.”
“Of course, people like you will be fine,” Nate continued before the man could argue again. “At least for a while. You’ll have food. But for how long? What if the grid is out for six months . . . a year . . . eighteen months? Can you last that long with what you’ve got right here? How much jerky, dried fruit, and MREs do you have?”
“And what about Danielle?” Gracie said, desperate now. “Those who rely on lifesaving medications won’t be able to get what they need because pharmacies will be stripped bare.”
“Stop.”
Bear tore around them, then dropped the ball in front of his owner. Macbain picked it up and squeezed the ball between his fingers. Nate studied the man’s body language and caught the tension. It was too bad life wasn’t as simple as a dog’s world where there was nothing more to do than play catch and run across the open field chasing squirrels. Whether either of them liked it or not, they needed Macbain, and they had to find a way to convince him to come back with them.
“Whoever is behind Stephen’s death might not have what they need at this point,” Nate said, “but I’m sure it won’t stop them from figuring out the rest of the puzzle. We’ve got to find a way to stop this.”
Macbain let out a sharp breath. “Even if I wanted to help you, I’m not sure I could.”
“Stephen wouldn’t have told me to come see you if he didn’t believe you could do something,” Gracie said.
Macbain threw the ball again for Bear to chase.
Nate tried one last time. “Come with us back to Dallas.”
“Fine. But I’m only doing this because of my daughter.”
18
Gracie had fallen asleep in the passenger seat next to him, while Macbain snoozed in the back on the long drive to Dallas. Nate gripped the steering wheel, willing his body to relax. The past two days had pushed him emotionally, and the events that had triggered flashbacks hadn’t helped. At least despite the possible far-reaching effects of the case, Gracie was safe, and they’d managed to convince Macbain to return with them. The FBI was being brought in to meet with them first thing in the morning, which was going to change the dynamics of the case. Whether for good or bad, he didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to worry about that today.
Gracie groaned softly beside him and opened her eyes.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” he said.
She tugged on the seat belt and leaned back against the headrest. “Sorry I fell asleep. I didn’t realize how tired I was. I think I’m still in a bit of a fog.”
“You haven’t exactly gotten a lot of rest lately.”
She shot him a sleepy smile. “No, I haven’t.”
“I know today hasn’t been easy, but you’ve been a trouper. And in the end, it turned out to be worth it.”
“Admitting I was right again?”
“I don’t think I’ll answer that question.”
She stared out the window and laughed. “Well, I might end up sleeping the next twelve hours after everything that’s happened, but I needed to be here.”
She had needed to be here, and she’d been right again. Now he was just ready for all of this to be over. The soft glow of the city lights that were coming on shone in the distance. It would be dark soon, but their work had only just begun.
“Have you ever thought how much we rely on electricity?” he asked, not wanting to imagine what would happen if someone was actually able to take down the grid. “Cell phone chargers, air-conditioning, the internet, refrigeration or heat in the winter . . .”
The list of things that would be affected was endless.
“My father always talks to me about what will happen,” Gracie said. “Every Thanksgiving he gives the same speech to the family, wanting to make sure we’re ready in case we have to live off the grid. I guess I never thought it would really happen, but after all I’ve seen the past couple days . . . I think I might have been wrong.”
“It’s unnerving, if you ask me.”
Because it wasn’t just the lights that would go out in a society completely dependent on electricity. Companies would shut down, along with critical services like telecommunications, banks, emergency responses, and water supplies.
Nate glanced in his rearview mirror, monitoring a pickup coming up fast behind them. He took his foot off the accelerator as he went around a curve. If the driver was in that much of a hurry, he could go ahead and pass them.
But instead of passing as the road straightened out, the vehicle zoomed up within inches of their bumper.
“Gracie . . . Macbain . . . we’ve got a problem.”
“What’s going on?” Gracie turned around to look out the back window as the pickup smashed into the back of Nate’s vehicle.
Nate gripped the steering wheel, determined to keep his vehicle from running off the road.
“Both of you . . . get down.”
The back window shattered. Nate pressed on the accelerator. He had no idea who was behind them, but they’d clearly stumbled into the hornets’ nest that had gotten Stephen Shaw killed and now wanted them stopped. Or dead.
The truck slammed into them a second time as Nate fought to keep his car on the road.
“Gracie . . . I need you to contact dispatch on my phone, then put it on speaker. And in the meantime, hang on. I’m going to try to outrun him, but this guy means business.”
“Give me a sec . . .”
“This is Detective Quinn en route to Dallas with two civilians,” he said once they’d been connected. “A vehicle is trying to run us off the road and they’re armed, and I need you to send backup immediately.”
He quickly gave the dispatcher their location, hoping they could get there quicker than Paige, who was at least twenty minutes ahead of them.
The woman’s voice came over the speakers. “I’m sending backup to your location now. Can you get
me a plate and description of the car?”
“If you can speed up, I should be able to read it,” Macbain said from the back seat.
Nate pressed on the accelerator. Macbain read off the numbers on the plate while Gracie passed them on to the dispatcher.
Nate searched for options as the other vehicle again began to narrow the distance between them. If he’d been alone or with his partner, he could take more of a defensive stance and try to end this, but with both Macbain and Gracie involved, he wasn’t going to risk their lives any further than they were already being threatened. And on the narrow, curvy road, there was nowhere else to go.
“Nate . . .”
“I see it.”
“What’s going on?” Macbain asked.
“There’s an embankment to our right with the lake below and nothing but a guardrail to stop us.”
If the truck shoved them off the road, they’d end up in the water.
“Can we outrun them?”
“I’m trying.”
The road made another sharp turn. The pursuing vehicle hit the tail end of their car. Nate felt the tires skid beneath them.
“Hang on!” he shouted.
The car smashed through the guardrail and flew down the embankment. Seconds later, Nate felt the impact as the car hit the lake and immediately began filling with water as it floated away from the bank.
He undid his seat belt and reached for Gracie, who was struggling with her own seat belt. “Are you okay?”
“I can’t get my seat belt off.”
He caught the panic in her voice. The water rushing through the car felt like ice. With the back window shattered, they had a few seconds at the most to get out of the car before it sank beneath the surface.
“Move your hands, let me try.”
She nodded as he pushed on the release button. Nothing.
God, please . . . we need a miracle.
Hypocrite.
The word that flashed through his mind after his prayer took him by surprise. He didn’t remember the last time he’d actually prayed. The word was true. Why was it that most people called out to God only when their lives were on the line? Like he was some genie in a bottle just waiting for their latest request.
He pushed on the release button again and this time it came undone.
Nate grabbed her hand and started pulling her out the back window.
Where was Macbain?
The car was filling up fast, and there was no sign of him.
Fighting the current, Nate managed to pull her out of the vehicle and toward the surface, but there was still no sign of Macbain. Nate tightened his grip on Gracie’s hand. The other man must have made his way out of the back window as soon as they’d hit the water.
Something slammed into him and he lost his grip on Gracie. He swam to the surface and searched the dark water for her.
“Gracie?”
She had to be here, but he couldn’t find her. One second she had been right beside him. The next second, she was gone.
God, no. I can’t lose her . . .
By now the car had filled with water and was sinking. Nate drew in a lungful of air and dove down into the murky water. She had to be here somewhere. She couldn’t just vanish. But it was too dark to see. Fear swallowed him. Fear that Gracie and Macbain hadn’t surfaced. Fear that he couldn’t save her. But she’d just been here.
God . . . you let my team and twelve other people die in that explosion. Let me find Gracie. You owe me that much. Please. It can’t end that way again.
His lungs felt as if they were about to burst as he headed once again for the surface. He treaded water, searching for her. She’d made it out of the car with him. She had to be nearby.
“Gracie! Macbain!”
He turned in a slow circle, but darkness had already settled above the lake. Something bobbed in the water to his left. His heart raced and he swam toward it. A plastic bottle. He smacked the top of the water with his hands in anger.
“Gracie! Where are you?”
A pair of car lights hit the water from the shore, illuminating a slice of the darkness.
He didn’t want to leave her here, but he needed help.
He started swimming for the shore.
An older man helped pull him out. “Are you all right? We saw a car go over and called 911.”
“I’m fine, but there are two more people out there. I can’t find them.”
“Help is on its way, but you’re far from fine. You’ve been injured.”
He followed the man’s gaze to a gash on his shoulder. Blood had soaked his torn shirt and ran down his arm, dripping onto the ground, but he felt nothing. Strange. He must have cut it on the rear window of the car, but at the moment he didn’t care. All he cared about was finding Grace and Macbain.
“How far out is your vehicle?” the old man asked.
“I’d guess twenty feet. Both of the other passengers got out. I just don’t know where they are.” He started back for the shoreline. “I need to go out there—”
“You can’t. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“He’s right.”
He turned to see his partner behind him. “Paige?”
She didn’t wait for him to argue. “What happened?”
“We were run off the road. Gracie and Macbain are still out there. I lost them . . .”
Paige immediately started shouting orders. Sirens screamed in the distance as more law enforcement and an ambulance arrived.
“We’re going to find them, but I need you to let them work.”
“No.” Nate stumbled as he headed back toward the water. “I need to be out there looking for her—”
“You need to stand down, Nate.” Paige grabbed his arm and turned him around. “That’s an order. You’re injured.”
“I don’t care. I just want to find her.”
“So does everyone here. Let them do their job.”
“And if she dies out there?”
“I promise that these men are going to do everything they can to find her. They’re already coordinating boats and divers—”
“This is still a rescue operation.”
“And no one is saying otherwise. But we need to be ready for anything.”
“Please. Let me help. I’m qualified—”
“I can’t take that risk.”
“I need to do something.”
“I’ve got two things for you to do. One, you’re going to be looked at by the paramedics, and two, you’re going to tell me exactly what happened.”
He could hear the motor of a boat revving, casting a light across the water as it headed away from the shore. She walked him to a waiting ambulance, where a paramedic started cleaning up his shoulder.
“There was a truck that came out of nowhere, shooting at our car and trying to run us off the road. We were able to give dispatch a license plate. They shot out the back window. I lost control of the vehicle when they rammed the rear end and it plunged into the water. The last time I saw Gracie, she was headed for the surface, but with the current and the darkness . . . I couldn’t find her.”
“There’s already a BOLO out on the vehicle. We will find it. Were you able to see who was in the other car?”
“No. Everything happened too fast.” A commotion caught his attention near the shoreline. “What’s going on?”
“Stay here . . . I’ll find out.”
Panic washed through him like the swollen current in front of him as the paramedic finished wrapping up his shoulder. He was there again. Surrounded by the heat of the explosion. The acidic scent of death swirling around him.
The uniformed man finished working on his shoulder.
Nate spouted his thanks, then shot out after Paige. “Who is it?”
“It’s Carl Macbain,” she said, turning around and catching his gaze.
“Is he alive?”
“Yes, but they’re going to take him to the hospital and treat him for h
ypothermia.”
“And Gracie?”
Paige hesitated. “They haven’t found her yet.”
He tried to refocus his mind. He had no idea how much time had passed. Or how long someone could survive out there. He felt in his pocket for his watch, but it was gone. What did it matter? Nothing but seeing Gracie alive could help him now.
God, I can’t go through this again. Please.
He’d shoved God into a box. Used him when he needed him or wanted something. And now that he needed him, he was ready to bargain, or beg, or whatever it took to get what he wanted. Except that wasn’t how things worked. Not in this life. He knew that. Prayers went unanswered. People died.
He knew because it was happening all over again.
19
Nate sat on the tailgate of one of the police vehicles with a blanket someone had given him wrapped around his shoulders while he waited. His hands shook as he took a sip from a steaming mug of coffee. He stared out across the water and at the lights reflecting in the darkness, unsure if he’d ever be warm again. He had no idea how much time had passed, but there was still no sign of Gracie.
Still no sign God was going to answer his prayer.
A wave of guilt pressed in around him. Maybe if he’d prayed more, gone to church more, somehow done more, maybe God would have heard him tonight.
“Nate?”
He turned at the sound of his name, then swallowed hard. “Pastor Rawlings.”
One of the volunteer police chaplains stepped in front of him, favoring his good leg. Cameron Rawlings was thirty-three years old, with two little girls and a third one on the way. He’d lost his leg in an IED explosion on tour in the Middle East. He’d come home a changed man with a determination to make a difference in the world, despite what had happened to him. Which had always made Nate question his own response to tragedy. Like the fact that the last time he’d been to church had been before the bombing.
He had, though, gone to the pastor’s office a few times after the bombing, trying to make some sense out of the world. But if he lost Gracie today, he’d know that making sense of his life was a hopeless cause.
“We were at my in-laws’ nearby, and I heard about the accident on the police scanner,” Cameron said. “When I heard you were involved, I had to come.”