by Alex Gunwick
“What was that all about?” Sierra asked.
“He made a stupid, crazy decision about something and now he probably regrets it. I was hoping you’d still be asleep when we got back.”
“What did he do?”
“It’s better if you don’t know,” Nina said. “Plausible deniability.”
“Does it have anything to do with last night?”
“I’m taking a shower.”
“Wait.” Sierra jumped up and blocked the entrance to the hall. “We don’t keep secrets. You can tell me anything and I won’t say a word.”
“You don’t want to know, trust me.”
“I feel so bad about last night. It’s all my fault.”
“No.” Nina grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently. “I know you think the whole world revolves around you, but it doesn’t. Last night wasn’t your fault, so don’t wallow in self-pity. Even if you made some bad choices, it doesn’t excuse what he tried to do. Please tell me you understand at least that much…”
“I—”
“—I know you want to be liked,” Nina continued. “You want to be popular. The center of attention. Envied by all of the other women on campus. But you’re letting your need to be liked cloud your judgment.”
“You just said it wasn’t my fault.”
“It wasn’t, but the minute you realized something wasn’t right, you should have left the party.”
“I was trying to find you,” Sierra said. “I didn’t want to leave you there alone.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“And you’re saying I can’t?”
“All I’m saying is that you need to be more cautious about people. There are a lot of terrible people walking around who were very good at hiding their true natures before the bombs dropped. They knew the cops were a phone call away so that kept them in line.”
“But now we can’t call the cops,” Sierra said.
“Exactly. So you need to be even more vigilant. Don’t go anywhere alone. Don’t trust anyone you don’t really know.”
“Donovan’s the Chem TA. I knew him.”
“Not really,” Nina said. “You only knew him on a superficial level.”
“I figured he wasn’t a bad guy because everyone else seemed to know him too. How am I supposed to tell good from evil if they’re so good at hiding it?”
“There were signs.”
“Like what?”
“He wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Huge red flag,” Nina said.
“I thought he liked me.”
Nina sighed.
“You’ve been sheltered your whole life. You’ve never seen evil before, but it’s rising up now. People are starting to realize they can get away with things they couldn’t before the bombs. There are no rules anymore. There are no laws. A person could…” Nina swallowed audibly. “A person could get away with almost anything right now.”
“Did Grant do something bad?” Sierra asked.
“It’s better that you never find out. I’m taking a shower. When I get out, I don’t want to talk about the last twenty-four hours ever again.”
As Nina headed down the hall, Sierra stared after her. Nina had never scolded her before. Even though she’d repeatedly told Sierra what had happened wasn’t her fault, Sierra couldn’t stop a fresh wave of guilt from dragging her under.
Under cover of darkness, Luke hiked through the night. He stayed away from the main road, instead using cover wherever he could find it. With so many wide-open fields, he’d been exposed more often than not.
Although the last ten miles had passed without incident, he would have to stop before he reached Los Banos. Sunrise couldn’t be more than an hour or two away. Trying to walk through town in broad daylight was asking for trouble. He’d need to find a place to hunker down and rest. He hadn’t slept all night. If he could find an abandoned shed or barn, he’d stay there until sundown. He could rest, take stock of his water supply, and then be on his way after nightfall.
Another mile passed before he spotted a farmhouse on the other side of a huge field of tomatoes. Adjacent to the tomato field, a large orchard of almond trees stood up against the night sky. He skirted the tomato field and entered the first row of trees. Using them for cover, he continued toward a collection of buildings around the farmhouse. With any luck, they’d have a loft he could hide out in. At the end of October, almond harvesting season would be over for the most part, so there shouldn’t be many workers on the farm.
A long dirt road cut through the center of the orchard. As he continued toward it, the low rumble of a pickup truck came from farther down the road. He fell in behind a tree and pulled his monocular out. Three men sat sandwiched together in the front seat. Two more sat in the back of the truck. The red glow of cigarettes flared. He lowered the scope and pulled back as the truck rolled to a stop about ten yards away. The men got out and stood in a semicircle around one man. In the still of the night, their words carried.
“Are you sure the old man is home alone?” the man at the center of the circle asked.
“The wife might be there too,” a second man said. “I couldn’t watch the place all day.”
“We get to keep her, sí?” a third man asked.
The group laughed.
“Nah, ese,” the second man said. “Our old ladies would cut off our cajones if we brought a woman home.”
“If la esposa está aquí, we kill her,” the first man said. “We take the jewelry, the cars, el dinero, eso es todo. Entiendes?”
“Sí, Carlos.”
“Vámanos. I want to be home before the sun comes up,” Carlos said. “You two go around back and get the cars. Juan and Ricardo go with me to la casa.”
The two men headed off into the night. As they passed his position, Luke held his breath. Moonlight glinted across the butts of pistols they’d shoved into their waistbands. One man also carried an AR-15 on a single-point bungee sling angled across his chest.
They continued on, oblivious to his presence. Carlos, Juan, and Ricardo slipped into the orchard on the opposite side of the road and trekked toward the farmhouse.
A litany of silent curses blasted through Luke’s head. This wasn’t his problem. Hell, he should steal their truck and use it to get as far south as possible.
He walked over to the driver’s side and slowly opened the door. He reached in and found the keys dangling from the ignition. Clearly they hadn’t expected there’d be anyone hiding in the orchard in the middle of the night.
He lifted his foot up to the running board then stopped. He hung his head, at war with the part of him desperate to get home as soon as possible. His family came first, but leaving another family outnumbered and presumably outgunned didn’t sit well. What kind of man would leave innocent people to be slaughtered?
As he stepped down, he reached for his P938. He pulled three additional magazines from his Get Home Bag and shoved them into his front pocket. Each held six rounds. If he couldn’t take out five targets with eighteen rounds, he deserved to get shot.
He approached the front of the house. He’d take out the three men inside first, then deal with the two who were tasked with stealing the cars after he’d secured the homeowners.
As he reached the tree line, Carlos’s leg disappeared through a front window. Since he hadn’t heard the crack of glass, the intruder had probably breached the house through an unlocked window.
Luke waited until Carlos disappeared before running fast and low across the open space between the orchard and the house. When he reached the window, he stood to the left side. Right now he had the element of surprise on his side. But as soon as he entered the home, he’d be faced with an unknown layout. He considered pulling out his night vision, but it wasn’t hands-free and it wouldn’t do much if the enemy wasn’t in the room.
He took a quick peek around the edge of the window frame into the house. The dim glow of a nightlight from the hallway gave him enough light to make out a couch, a TV, and several chai
rs. Moving in a semicircle, he took small steps while scanning for Carlos and his buddies.
After clearing the room, he climbed through the window. He pressed his back against the wall. He held his gun out as he rescanned the room.
Still empty, he slowly walked across the wood floor. As he took another step, the floor creaked. He froze. Footsteps sounded from near the rear of the house. He quickly pressed himself against the wall next to the door to the hall. One of the men walked past the room without looking inside.
Luke stepped into the doorway. After a fast scan to make sure they were alone, he rushed the man from behind. He slammed the butt of his gun into the man’s skull, knocking him down. He dropped to the floor. As he landed, a resounding thump echoed down the hall.
A scurry of footsteps came from somewhere upstairs.
“Juan?” Carlos whispered.
Luke stood motionless with his gun pointed at the top of the stairs.
Footsteps from another room downstairs caught his attention. Before he could change positions, another man stepped into the hall. He startled and reached for his AR-15, but it was too late. Luke put two shots in his heart and advanced to put another between his eyes as he fell.
Upstairs, a woman screamed.
Luke rushed to check the man on the floor. He was dead. Luke grabbed the AR-15 while stuffing his SIG in his waistband. He pulled back the bolt to make sure a round was chambered then headed for the stairs.
A gunshot rang out.
Using the sight, he swept up the stairs. The area was clear, so he moved as quickly and quietly as possible. Unfortunately, the old house creaked and squeaked. Warped boards at the top of the stairs didn’t help.
Since Carlos already knew his location, he expected a hail of bullets when he glanced around the corner into the hall. Nothing happened.
He pressed his back to the wall and headed in the direction from which he’d heard the scream. Several doors were closed. Falling back on his tactical training, he opened the first door and swept from left to right until he’d cleared the room. He stepped inside to check under the bed and inside the closets. Empty.
As he returned to the door, pounding footsteps approached. A woman in a white nightgown ran past, screaming when she spotted him. He leveled the AR and waited for Carlos. When he didn’t follow, Luke risked a glance down the hall. The woman peeked out from the last room on the right.
“Where is he?” Luke asked.
“My husband. Oh my God!” she shrieked.
“Where?”
The woman pointed down the hall in the direction from which she’d run. Not very helpful.
As he stepped into the hall, he pointed the gun toward the next door. He opened it and swept the room while trying to keep an eye on the hall.
A blast of gunfire sounded from the stairwell. He spun into the room, clearing the doorframe as bullets chipped away at the wood. Two sets of footsteps pounded into the hall. He’d completely forgotten about the two men outside. Of course they’d come running when they’d heard the first shots.
The woman shrieked.
Luke took a breath before peeking out. One man had an arm around her neck. He held a gun to her head. The second man stood a few feet in front of them. Without hesitation, Luke put a round through his chest. The man stumbled before falling down the stairs.
“Cabrón! Come out or I kill her,” the other man snarled.
He didn’t move. They planned on killing everyone anyway, but he hadn’t shot her yet. He couldn’t take him out with the AR without risking hitting her so he switched to the SIG.
“Carlos?” the man called.
“Down here,” Carlos said from the opposite end of the hall. “Who the hell is shooting?”
“I don’t know. Where’s the husband?”
“Knocked out. They have a safe. He wouldn’t tell me the combo,” Carlos said.
“Maybe she can tell us.”
The woman screamed.
“What’s the number bitch?” the man asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t know.”
“Liar!”
“He didn’t tell me,” she wailed.
“Bring her to me,” Carlos said.
“What about the other guy?”
“Pendejo! Kill him!” Carlos muttered a string of words Luke couldn’t make out.
Luke risked a glance. The man dragged the woman down the hall. Luke waited until they were closer. He raised the pistol and closed his non-dominant eye. He couldn’t risk missing. After blowing out a breath, he took the shot.
The man’s brains exploded against the wall. He crumbled to the floor. The woman screamed and flung herself at Luke. He pulled her into the room behind him.
“You have to save my husband,” she screamed and grabbed his shoulders.
He shook her off.
“Step back,” he said gruffly.
“I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.” She slid down the wall and sat at his feet.
“Which bedroom are they in?”
“On the right. At the end.”
Before he could step into the hall, another gunshot blasted. Luke knew he didn’t have much time, if any. He checked the hall. It was empty, so he pressed his back against the wall and hurried down toward the open door.
“Surrender and I’ll let you live,” Luke lied.
Carlos’s laughter skirted the edge of madness. He leapt into the hall and fired off two shots before Luke could react.
Searing pain radiated out from the center of his right shoulder. He staggered forward and raised his gun.
“Get down,” the woman screamed.
As he dropped down, the loud boom of a shotgun blast cut through the air. His face hit the floor and darkness sucked him under.
7
Liz scraped the last few granules of French roast out of the tin on the kitchen counter. After dumping them into the percolator, she turned on the machine and waited. There seemed to be an inverse relationship between how much sleep she’d had to how long it took to brew coffee. Less sleep, longer brew time.
The doorbell rang. After checking through the peephole to see who it was, she opened the door to Jennifer.
“Sorry I split on you yesterday,” she said. “I knew Kent was going to launch into his conspiracy theory crap and I didn’t have the patience for it.”
“He’s got some interesting ideas. Coffee?” Liz asked.
“Sure.”
While Liz grabbed two coffee mugs from the cupboard, Jennifer sat at the kitchen table.
“What was it this time? Aliens? Government mind control?”
“Martial Law to take all of his guns,” Liz said. “Cream? Sugar?”
“Both if you have it.”
“I hate to admit it, but I’m worried. Did you hear the gunshots last night?”
“Yeah. Woke me and Frank up around three a.m.”
“What’s he think about all of this?” Liz asked.
“He thinks we should go to the grocery store and stock up just in case.”
The doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” Kyle yelled as he bounded down the stairs.
“Make sure you know who it is before you open it,” Liz called.
Jennifer’s husband Frank walked into the kitchen a few seconds later. His normally smiling lips formed a thin line. The leathery skin on his forehead scrunched up. He pulled a chair close to his wife. As he sat, he wrapped a protective arm around her.
“Ran into Kent a few minutes ago,” Frank said.
“He still ranting about the government?” Liz asked.
“No. He has a police scanner. Apparently a group of people were looting the grocery store last night. Sheriff’s deputies shot and killed two of them.”
“They shot people for stealing?” Liz sat in a chair across the table from them.
“Yeah. Isn’t that crazy?” Frank asked.
“It seems like…well, for lack of a better word, overkill,” Jennifer said.
Frank groaned.
<
br /> “Well, what else would you call it?” she demanded.
“Excessive force, maybe?” Liz said.
“Whatever you want to call it doesn’t matter,” he said. “If people are already trying to loot places, we need to get to the store and stock up before everything’s gone.”
“Should we go together?” Liz asked.
“It might be safer,” he said. “Strength in numbers.”
“When do you want to go?” Jennifer asked.
“Now, before more people decide to stock up,” he said.
“Kyle!” Liz called. “Do you want to go to the store with us?”
“No.” He yelled from the living room. “I’m watching a movie.”
“Okay.”
Frank offered to drive his work van so they’d have plenty of room for everything. As they pulled into the parking lot, Liz’s eyes widened. The outside of the grocery store looked like it had been hit by a tornado.
“The windows are all broken,” she said.
“There are cops at the front door,” Jennifer said.
“I wish I’d brought my gun with me. Just in case,” Frank quickly added.
“Let’s get in and out as quickly as possible,” Liz said.
“There are a ton of people in line waiting to get inside,” Jennifer said. “This isn’t going to be an in and out job.”
“I hope there’s enough food left,” he said.
The line to get inside snaked along the side of the building. Four deputies carrying AR-15s stood three feet apart at the front of the store. They were letting groups of ten customers in at a time.
“We might not get another chance at this,” Frank said. “Grab as much food as you can. Get a lot of canned stuff too. Don’t get all fresh. It won’t last very long. Don’t waste time on water. We still have that at home. Although, we should probably fill up extra bottles just in case.”
“Got it,” Liz said as Jennifer nodded.
Thirty minutes later, they were the next group to go inside. A stone-faced deputy handed one small hand basket to each person.
“You have ten minutes to shop. You can only purchase what will fit in the basket and in your hands.”