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Find Me Series (Book 3): Finding Hope

Page 25

by Trish Marie Dawson


  * * *

  Drake didn’t trust the overeager man. As Connor took charge of the group, quietly doling out orders to everyone including Keel, Drake stayed off to the side with his arms crossed, watching. He didn’t know the mountains, but he was willing to search every square inch of them until he found Riley. It became obvious in the winter weather, though, that he couldn’t do that on his own. Even with Keel’s help. Even with Zoey’s. The damn dog had taken three shots to the torso, one laming a front leg, and though Drake had done his best in the field to patch her up, and rushed her back to the Ark, hoping Winchester could save her, the dog wasn’t healed and ready for any sort of search party. She barely lifted her head from Riley’s bunk as the group milled in and out of their room. It was more than the pain that kept the dog subdued. Drake wished the dog could speak and tell him what had happened.

  So he’d searched. There was just too much land out there, and the snow was either melting or being replaced every night with a fresh layer. Tracking Riley was a lot harder than he thought it would be, and though the dog was still recovering, without Zoey, it might even be impossible.

  With the announcement that they were going back on the road, each of them returned to their rooms in a hurry. Backpacks had been thrown together and dumped in the narrow hallway not far from Jacks and Lily’s suite, and Drake stood by as Winchester scrambled to organize his makeshift doctor bag. “So, what’s the plan? The people that run this place won’t let us all just walk out of here. And if we managed to do that, I doubt they’d let us come back again.”

  Connor stopped moving long enough to lock eyes with Drake. “Let them try and stop me,” he said.

  “Right. They have all our weapons at the security gate, with the exception of his,” Drake said, with a gesture at Keel.

  “My gun won’t be enough.” Keel picked at something between his teeth. “You need a plan. And that’s something I can help with. Maybe.”

  Again, Connor stilled. In his hand was a pair of winter gloves. “What do you mean, ‘maybe’?”

  Keel made a sucking sound and Drake looked away from him as he talked with one finger still in his mouth. “Simple. I think my time here is pretty much spent. I’m ready to move on.”

  “What’s that got to do with us?” Connor asked. “Can’t you leave any time you want, just walk away and never come back?”

  “Nah. The world’s different now. We all know it’s not smart being out there alone. Safety in numbers, and all that jazz,” Keel answered.

  Drake grunted. Keel wasn’t joining their group for fear of being alone. Connor glanced up at him, then looked back at Keel, and spoke in a low and cautious voice. “You want to go with us? And then what? How could we possibly trust you?”

  All eyes fell on Keel. He stood awkwardly, swallowed up in his coat, a loose black scarf wrapped around his neck, a look of confusion stuck on his face like a post-it note.

  “What?” he asked.

  Drake nodded at him. “Prove it,” he said.

  “Prove what?” Keel glanced at the members of the group, his expression still perplexed. “I haven’t done enough for you people already?”

  Winchester, taking Drake’s lead, stepped forward. “Where’s Kris, Keel?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Bullshit.” Drake moved toward him so quickly, Keel flinched. He stood his ground, though, and casually pushed his hands into his pockets as Drake stared him down.

  “Rumor has it the girl is knocked up. You don’t want to drag a pregnant woman around the mountains, do you?”

  Winchester lunged at Keel’s back, his hands going straight for the scarf. He’d been able to catch the taller man off guard, and the few seconds of surprise were enough to tighten his grip on the soft material, efficiently choking Keel.

  Jacks grabbed for Winchester, and Connor grabbed for Keel. Drake stood by as the odd man out, waiting for Keel to catch his breath. Once he did, he released a long string of heated curse words and made a lunge for Winchester.

  That was when Drake intervened. He took hold of Keel’s coat lapels and spun the man, shoving him hard into the nearby concrete wall. With his body pressed into Keel’s, he brought his mouth close to the startled man’s ear. “Do you know where Kris is? Because you have three seconds to decide if you want to live or die right here in this hallway. I’ll tear your throat out with my teeth. I won’t even bother using my fists.”

  Drake could see Keel mentally counting, and when Drake himself reached three, he lunged at the pulsing vein in Keel’s neck. Just before he could bite down, Keel cried out.

  “Fuck! Yes, yes I know where she is!”

  Immediately, Drake leaned back, taking his mouth off Keel’s skin. “Where? Where is she?”

  “You’re fucking insane, man…” Keel wheezed. “Get off me!”

  Winchester, still flushed in the face from his attack on Keel, popped up beside Drake and jabbed a finger in Keel’s face. “Tell us first!”

  He appeared to be weighing his choices. He stood outnumbered, four to one. Drake watched as the realization of his situation hit close to home. Keel took a deep breath and cursed, then he rested his head back on the wall and his body slumped slightly.

  “I guess if I want to leave, their secrets aren’t important anymore, are they?” he said with a heavy sigh.

  “Secrets?” Connor asked.

  Drake shot an angry look over his shoulder at Connor. “One thing at a time. First…Kris.”

  “I can take you to her. She was moved upstairs to the admins’ quarters. She and the others.”

  The others. A sickening feeling warmed Drake’s gut. He didn’t have to look at Jacks or Winchester to understand they felt queasy as well. The room was thick with guilt. Riley had been telling them the truth. The hall was silent until Lily cried out from her crib. Jacks left them standing there, to retrieve her and finish packing her belongings.

  The rest of them listened to Keel talk about his plan for two minutes. When it was quiet again, Drake laughed. “That’s it? That’s your big escape?”

  With a shrug, Keel pushed off the wall and out of Drake’s hands and stretched. “I know the way this place works. I’ll take you to Kris. I can help you get out, maybe even help with a truce, so to speak. The Ark has its perks, you know.”

  “I don’t get it,” Drake said. “I know you would do just fine out there on your own. Why bother helping any of us?”

  “Maybe I don’t want to sleep with one eye open every night for the rest of my life,” Keel answered. “And remember, I haven’t told them you’re back. Once they find out, they won’t be happy. I can only get the guards to do so much. Eventually, they’ll want something in return.”

  Drake shook his head, not believing much of Keel’s reasoning. To Connor, he said, “And what about your new friends? That girl of yours, specifically. She going to be running off into the sunset with us or staying here?”

  “I guess I’m running off into the sunset with you,” said a small voice from the stairwell. Ashlyn stood with her arms limply held at her sides, her eyes fixed on Connor and wide with concern. She swallowed hard and tilted her head upwards. “Unless I’m not welcome.”

  Drake stared down at the floor, as did Winchester. A long silence filled the hall, until Jacks reappeared, one hand on the baby carrier hanging from his chest and the other struggling with a large diaper bag. “We’re good to go, all packed. Everyone ready?” Lily was in a snowsuit with her little limbs sticking out of the carrier in comical straight lines, as if she was preparing to do a somersault in mid-air. Since she wasn’t moving, Drake figured she was asleep, or close to returning to it.

  “Almost,” Connor called back to him.

  The temperature had dropped considerably, Drake realized, and though he appreciated getting help, he thought it ridiculous that Jacks would even attempt to leave the Ark with his sick infant in tow. He bent over and scooped up his pack, and left the others to gather their belongings. He took the stairs, ignoring Ja
cks, who had called the elevator, and the startled Ashlyn, who stood off to the side, unclear of where to go. Keel’s plan was severely flawed, but it was the only one they had. Drake wanted to ensure it worked.

  Which meant something at the Ark had to go terribly wrong on their way out. A fire, Drake thought, would be the perfect distraction.

  * * *

  “We have to go,” Connor urged, pulling a reluctant Kris behind him down the hall. “We have to go, right now.”

  She moved, but slowly. Still groggy from medication, her feet dragged and she tripped several times before they made it to the staircase leading back to the main floor. “What about Cole? I want to say goodbye to Cole,” she whined.

  “Keep moving. That idiot, Drake, has gone and done something stupid. Or brilliant. I don’t know yet.” Connor shifted beneath the heavy weight of his backpack, and gripped harder onto Kris’ hand. He wasn’t going to let go. He’d toss her over his shoulder and carry her if he had to. Keel had gotten them onto the upper floor without much issue, but getting Kris out had been different. They took down two guards and two nurses. None of whom would remain unconscious forever.

  Ashlyn followed quietly behind them. She was light on her feet; the only way he knew she was there was by the swishing sound her arms made as they rubbed against the sides of her coat. Swish-swish. Pause. Swish-swish. Pause. Connor knew Jacks and Winchester were outside, waiting, but not where exactly. He still couldn’t believe there was a baby. That Jacks was a father. That Ana and Skip were dead. He shook his head, trying to clear out the fog that twisted around his thoughts. He couldn’t afford to drift down memory lane before they were off the compound, each of them safe. Each of them alive.

  The fire alarm continued to screech and scream at them, and got louder with each step they took. But Connor imagined it was because the echo was simply reaching deeper into his brain. He’d had to pick up the dog only half way to the top. Zoey couldn’t do the stairs yet.

  “Don’t let go of me,” he said over his shoulder at Kris, who had hooked a hand around his backpack strap. “If I run, you run, understand?”

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  Luck was on their side when they finally reached the main floor and found the lobby empty. Connor carefully put Zoey back on the floor and inched down the hall with his side rubbing against the painted concrete, fearing that someone would come walking out of a doorway and discover them. But that didn’t happen. When they reached the front doors, they were able to see why the alarm was going off, and where most of the residents were gathered. And it had nothing to do with their present escape attempt.

  The community building, where the cafeteria was, stood engulfed in flames. Even with the structure surrounded by snow, they could feel the heat in the air as they pushed through the doors and slowly made their way around the building. With people running in all directions, women crying and children screaming, the scene was chaotic and no one paid their small group of people much notice. Once at the rear of the main building, they began walking away from the property, toward the narrow road that led north, to the cemetery.

  “Where are they?” Kris asked. “Winchester said to meet them behind the gardens. They aren’t here.” Medicine still coursed through her veins, it was clear to see, but she was doing her best to remain alert.

  “They’ll be here,” Connor said, patting Zoey’s head.

  “Look,” Ashlyn pointed into the white distance. “Something’s out there…coming right for us.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  L aughter boomed out around us. The sound seemed to come from all sides, like the cackling of an old witch that flew about on her broom. But Shannon and I ignored it and continued playing our game, slapping down cards in between fits of giggles and gasps. She won, like she always did.

  “It’s warm in here, Mom. Can I open a window?” Shannon stood and crossed the dark room, dropping her cards along the rug as she went.

  “Shannon, look, you’re making a mess.” I rose from my chair and stooped to pick up her forgotten cards.

  The rush of fresh air pushed the hair off my face and I looked up to see Shannon standing at the window, her blond waves moving with the breeze. Moonlight framed her figure, and I got a glimpse of the woman she would one day become. Most likely taller than me, with long limbs and my unfortunate thighs. She would be gorgeous, just like she was now.

  “Mom,” she said, snapping me out of my daydream. “There’s someone outside.”

  Leaving the cards stacked neatly on the floor, I crossed the room and met her at the window. We looked down at the land from at least three stories up, and my head went fuzzy from the height. My fingers dug into the wooden window sill to steady my body, and I stared at the ground, searching for the person Shannon had seen. But there was no one.

  “It’s just the shadows, baby,” I said, still watching the trees. “Playing tricks on your mind. Let’s put the cards away, clean up and go to bed. First, we need to close up this window.”

  “But I’m too hot. One more minute?”

  Without looking at her, I shrugged and granted her another minute in the fresh air, and returned to the table to clean up our mess from game night. The floor groaned under my feet and for a second I thought I’d crash through it to my death, landing with the charisma of a flying pig on the forest floor.

  The air changed and I turned just in time to see Shannon crouched on the sill, her body filling the frame, preparing to jump.

  “Shannon! No! Get down from there!”

  “I’m too hot,” she said.

  I lunged for her, my arms outstretched to grab at her legs, but she looked over her shoulder at me and the charred remains of her burnt face cracked into pieces as she smiled and blew me a kiss. I stumbled in shock, and missed her legs by an inch, before she threw herself out into the night. Bits and pieces of ash drifted into the wind, and my daughter was gone.

  * * *

  “Slowly.”

  My cheek was on fire and the cackling sound of laughter popped loudly by my head. Certain I had fallen into a nightmarish coma, I refused to open my eyes and see where my mind had taken me next. Would I find Dean, dying or burned or worse, waiting for me to watch him fling his little body out of a window to join his sister? I didn’t want to know.

  “Slowly.”

  A man spoke calmly above me and my reflexes urged each muscle to strike out. My hands, fisted into balls and ready to pound into the flesh of another, were easily pinned down. I could no longer keep my eyes closed.

  “Let go!” I screamed, followed quickly by a chest-heaving cough.

  The hands instantly released, and I sat up to find myself on a large papasan chair, facing a wood-burning fire. It popped, cackled and roared, explaining the evil laughing sounds in my already fading dream.

  I was fully dressed, missing only my outer coat and boots, with a thick quilt draped across my lap. My hands and arms had been wiped clean, too. “Where am I?”

  The heat in my cheek subsided the instant I turned my face, but I pushed upright too quickly, which shifted the chair frame and tilted me toward the floor. I landed on my hands and knees, with the quilt wrapped around my midsection.

  “I said, slowly,” repeated the man from the room.

  Where he stood in wait, I couldn’t see. The room, oddly shaped and mostly dark, held nothing but shadows. “Where are you? Who are you?” I demanded, while struggling to stand on my socked feet. My boots were neatly placed in front of the fireplace, and I reached for them, but snatched my hand away when the hot fabric burned my skin.

  From a nearby corner, a wooden plank creaked in protest and the long, lean legs of a man in dark clothing slowly came out of the shadows. He turned a chair toward me and sat down on the seat. I followed the line of his body as he bent forward and rested his arms on his knees. We stared at each other for a full minute.

  When he didn’t pull out a weapon, I swallowed and climbed back into the papasan chair, dragging the quilt up off the floor
to cover my legs. Though the side of my face was hot from being so close to the fire, the rest of the room was rather cold. “Who are you?” I asked again.

  “Jin.”

  I frowned at him. “Is that your name, or are you offering me a drink?”

  “My name is Jin,” he said curtly. A thick Asian accent layered each word, and I knew immediately that, at one time, he’d been a foreigner. If such a thing existed anymore.

  “Well, Jin, where am I?”

  “In the trees.”

  I blinked at him and watched his stoic expression for any sign of sarcasm or humor. There was none. “Right,” I said. “In the trees. So…you’re crazy. And I’m leaving.”

  Quickly, before he could stop me, I scrambled off the cushioned chair and grabbed up my boots, hot as they were, being careful to keep him in view as I backed across the small room.

  “You are no prisoner here,” he said. Then he leaned back in his seat and waved at me to go.

  “I can just leave?”

  “If this is what you want.”

  My socks were dry and toasty, but my jeans were still damp. Considering how cold the room was away from the fire, I knew I would need my coat. As I scanned the far side of the room, while shoving my feet into my boots, I spotted the coat draped on a wall hook, just a few feet away from a door. The exit, I hoped.

  “Okay, I’m going to leave now.” It was more a warning than a request. The recent memory of going rabid on Jay and Lee was still very clear in my mind.

  He made a subtle move with his shoulders, which I assumed to be a shrug. My feet made soft scuffing sounds on the wooden floor as I crossed the room to my coat, where I pulled it on and shivered. The material was damp and cold. When I opened my mouth to speak again, a long bout of ribcage-rattling coughs came out instead. It wasn’t until I swiped a hand under my nose that I realized I had a fever.

  His voice, still calm and exotic, spoke flatly, “You are not well.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

 

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