by Emily Garnet
Matt nodded. “Who would’ve thought it’d be so hard to find water?” As they ate, he pulled out his phone to look at the route. “We still have a ways to go, but we made some progress. Unfortunately, my battery is getting really low.”
“We should memorize it together then, in case we get separated, or we have to go off the current course. We should know the way out.”
Matt nodded, bringing the phone closer so they could hold it between them and each see the screen well enough. Ivy stared at it so long that she swore the image had burned into the back of her eyes, but she was also confident she knew the route out or could reconnect to it should she have to wander off-course.
“When the phone dies, will it ever come back on?” asked Matt.
Ivy shrugged. “I don’t know. I doubt it. Even if you manage to find a way to charge it, most of the generators will be out of power within twenty-four hours. You might get one more round of use from it before the cell towers start to lose power. Once that happens, the cell phones will be expensive paperweights.”
“But the Internet will still be out there?”
Ivy nodded. “As far as I understand it, at least the relay stations. There just won’t be any way to connect. So, unless you have a hardwired direct line, I don’t think anybody’s going to get much use out of the Internet in the future either. I’m really not sure.”
She rubbed her face, letting out a tired sigh. “It’s been ten-plus years since I had to learn about any of this stuff. My dad used to give us lectures, including videos and PowerPoint, and then he’d test us on those. That was his version of homeschooling. Once we knew math and reading, he focused on what he considered most important—survival. I guess I should be grateful that I remember what I do, and that he drilled it into my head, but even now, I’m having a hard time thinking the way I was raised was a good thing.”
Matt nodded, putting an arm around her shoulders. “That’s because it was kind of insane. Even if he turned out to be right, it sounds like he was really harsh with you and your sister. What’s that saying about good intentions? Something about a paved road…”
“‘The road to hell is paved with good intentions?’” At his nod, she nodded as well. “That just about sums it up. Anyway, we should get going.”
Matt groaned as he got to his feet, but he didn’t protest that it was time to end their break. He just took Ivy’s hand as he jumped down off the retainer wall before offering her a steadying hand to do the same.
They continued walking, avoiding people until they reached a block that was consumed with fire. “We’re going to have to skirt around.”
Matt nodded, glancing once more at the map. “If we take this detour three or four blocks ahead, we’ll be back on the right path.”
Ivy had figured that out for herself, but she wasn’t grumpy enough to tell him so. They just started walking, keeping a brisk pace as they moved away from the heat of the fire and the smoke clogging the air. “It’s a good thing Lacey isn’t here. All this smoke would trigger her asthma.”
She shuddered as she recalled the number of times her little sister had collapsed, and how Ivy had to run for her inhaler. There’d been a phase when Henry had insisted Lacey needed to conquer her addiction to an inhaler, since an inhaler might not be available after a collapse. Fortunately, her mother, Erin, had been alive then, and she’d immediately vetoed that nonsense.
By the time Lacey was older, she’d outgrown her asthma to a certain extent, and Ivy had ensured she had inhalers when she needed them. Sometimes, that had meant stealing them from the pharmacy in town, since Henry refused to fill them. Still, her sister had what she needed, and Ivy was proud of that. She just hoped her sister wasn’t surrounded by fires near her university. If she was, Lacey had the good sense to keep more than one inhaler around.
As they rounded the corner, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. At first, it was simply an instinctive response, and she had no idea why as a frisson of panic shot down her spine. After a second, her gaze focused on the crowd forming in the street. They were shouting and unified, but that appeared to be by anger.
She put a hand on Matt’s arm, shaking her head about him going any farther. She took a step back as she heard one of the people in the crowd shout, “We should march over to the fire station and demand they stop ignoring our neighborhood. We pay taxes too.”
There were several shouts of agreement, and the whole crowd had an energy of anger. They were barely leashed, and she didn’t want to be there when the anger spilled over into something like rash action.
Jerking her head, she gestured to Matt for them to backup. They started to do so, but she froze when someone shouted her name. Without thinking about it, she looked over her shoulder. It was a young girl, no more than fourteen or fifteen, who’d recognized her and called out her name. Ivy gave her a quick smile before turning around and starting to walk again.
“Look, it’s Ivy Gerard. She can help us. She has money and security.”
Ivy tensed. “Get ready to run, Matt.”
His radar wasn’t as good as hers apparently, because he seemed to think she was being silly. He turned to address the girl who’d shouted their way. “We don’t have any of our security with us. We were all split up. You guys should do what we’re doing, which is getting out of Vegas.”
“You’re lying. You have help. You just have to call them.” That came from an older woman. “I bet if you were with us, they’d have to help.”
Matt seemed to finally grasp what Ivy was trying to tell him—the crowd was angry, riled up, and ready to turn on a dime. They’d chosen to turn on them. “Get your ass in gear, Matt.” She started running, aware of Matt a step behind her to start with, until he caught up.
They ran down the street, but there was no escaping the heavy footfalls behind them. She doubted everyone in the crowd had chosen to chase them, but there were enough following that it could endanger her and Matt both. With the crowd in a mood like that, they might end up tearing them to pieces when they discovered Ivy and Matt really had no way to help.
They had just crossed another section of road, and she glanced behind her to see the crowd appeared to be catching up. Surely, they would give up within a few minutes and return to the mob they’d already formed. Right? They couldn’t keep chasing her and Matt forever. Unfortunately, they had expended part of their energy already trying to escape the city, and the crowd was gaining on them.
“Son of a…” Matt screeched to a halt, banging into the side of a truck that pulled up in front of them. He barely had time to stop.
Ivy was certain the truck was with the crowd until Kenny stuck out his head. He looked shocked. “I thought that was you two. I was driving by, heading for the exits out of town, when I saw you. Get in.”
Ivy didn’t hesitate, and neither did Matt. He clambered up and climbed into the bed of the truck as she ran around and took the cab. It was a small truck that could’ve been a ‘70s or ‘80s model. She didn’t know vehicles well enough to be sure which. The most important thing was it was still running, even if it had a small capacity and only seated two people in the front.
Driving like a stuntman, Kenny backed up just enough to be able to turn to the right with a peel of rubber. He slammed down hard on the gas pedal, and the truck shot forward with a jolt. Ivy hadn’t had a chance to put on her seatbelt, so it tossed her forward. She braced her weight on her hands as they slammed into the dashboard, which sent sparks of pain ricocheting up her arms, but at least she hadn’t broken her nose.
“Sorry about that. I figured we’d better get out of there.”
She nodded, her hands shaking a little bit as she reached for the seatbelt. “I think you’re right. I can’t believe you saw us. Thank you. What are the odds?” At first, she asked that with a sense of awe at the coincidence of them crossing paths again, but it needled something in the back of her mind. What were the odds?
He shrugged. “I live not too far from here. I decided to tak
e your advice and get out of Dodge. I went pretty much straight home after you left the pawnshop. I was too focused on getting my stuff to stop and help with the van.”
Her mouth went dry, and she turned her head to look in the back of the truck, ostensibly to check on Matt. “He looks comfortable.” She sounded nervous to her own ears, and she wondered if Kenny would pick up on it. If he’d stopped to pick up his gear, where was it? The back of the truck was completely empty, aside from Matt and a metal toolbox. “I think you can probably stop and let us out. It looks like we’ve lost the crowd.”
“I think we should stick together a little while longer. There’s a pretty intense fire over there.” He gestured with his right hand.
Ivy turned her head to look out the window, and she saw a blazing inferno, but it was at least three or four blocks away from them, and the wind was blowing in the other direction from where they planned to go. “I think we’d be fine.”
“You might as well stick with me. I have a vehicle, and we can get out of here a lot faster.”
Ivy nodded, her mind racing. Her fingers twitched to reach for her phone so she could text Matt about her suspicions, but of course the phone wasn’t there, and it wouldn’t have done much good if it had been. The text might or might not have gotten through to his dying cell phone. Still, she hated feeling so vulnerable and having the suspicion all by herself.
Impulsively, she took off her seatbelt and turned around in the seat to open the window to the back. “How are you doing back there, Matt?”
He was leaning against the windshield, his butt firmly on the floor of the truck bed. “It’s not the most comfortable I’ve ever been, but it’s sure better than running from that crowd.”
Her mind was racing, but she managed to sound semi-normal when she said, “Isn’t it really bothering your tailbone?”
Matt blinked. “My tailbone?”
She gave him an intense look, hoping he would understand she was trying to relay information without being able to speak freely. “I know you have a hard time sitting on hard surfaces ever since you broke it a few years ago.”
Matt opened his mouth, looking like he would protest, but then his gaze darted from her to Kenny, back to her again. He was clearly confused, but at least he didn’t call her on the ruse. “I’m okay so far.”
“You’re not going to be able to ride like that for hundreds of miles though.” She spoke confidently. “Would you rather walk?”
Matt nodded hesitantly. “Yeah, that would be more comfortable.” He clearly had no idea what she was talking about, or what she was doing, but she appreciated that he wasn’t revealing that information to Kenny.
With a nod, she turned to Kenny. “I think we’d probably better get out then. Matt can’t ride like that, at least not for long.”
Kenny sighed, making a production of it as he looked around before pulling over to the side of the road. “I think you’re making a mistake, but it looks like it’s clear enough here.”
She began to doubt her suspicions. Could it really have been just a coincidence that Matt saw them, or an even bigger coincidence that he’d seen them with the van and the people surrounding it? If he was stopping without arguing, then clearly his intentions had to be good. Right? That didn’t explain his lack of gear, but she wasn’t going to worry about that as long as they got away quickly.
She reached for the handle on the door, but nothing happened. Keeping her voice level, she said, “Unlock the door please.”
Kenny was already standing on the street, having opened his door and gotten out. “I’ll have to come around and open it for you. For some reason, the handle just doesn’t open from the inside anymore. I’ve been meaning to replace it, but since this was my dad’s truck, I don’t drive it very often. Keeping it’s more a sentimental thing, you know? Of course, my practically brand-new Toyota didn’t start.” He shook his head, sounding disgusted.
Ivy let out a small breath, not sure if she completely believed him, but he was moving around to her side of the truck as Matt clambered out of the back. He certainly sounded and acted normal—though she didn’t know him well enough to decide what was his normal.
In the passenger mirror on the door, she saw Kenny lift a tire iron that he must’ve taken from his side of the truck when he got out, because he hadn’t had a chance to reach into the back. She turned her head to shout a warning to Matt, but it was too late. Kenny had already knocked him out.
Her best friend fell to the ground without even a cry. A puddle of blood surrounded him where he lay, but she tried not to panic. Head wounds could bleed voraciously even if the wound wasn’t that serious. “Matt, get up,” she shouted at him as Kenny returned to the truck.
Ivy reached for her gun, but she wasn’t fast enough. Kenny was in the truck and on her before she could get it out of the holster. He pressed the tire iron against her neck, pushing her back against the seat. She tried clawing at his arm, which held the metal bar and the fleshy part of his arm against her trachea, but she couldn’t get a good hold. Her nails scrabbled over his arm, making Kenny hiss with pain, but that was the only sign that she’d scored any kind of injury. He maintained a steady pressure until her gaze darkened, and everything went fuzzy. She was still struggling to breathe when she passed out.
Chapter Six
Matt’s head was pounding, and it was reminiscent of some of the early days they’d been on tour, when he’d been out of control with alcohol, and a few other substances he was ashamed to admit he’d used. Back in those days, he’d been a wild party animal, and he’d also only been nineteen.
All the women and all the availability of chemical substances had gone to his head, and there’d been more than one morning-after migraine before Ivy stepped in and told him to knock off his crap. He hadn’t been an addict, but he suspected he’d been close. If it hadn’t been for her stepping in, he would’ve been a total wastoid, and his career probably would’ve been over by now.
Since he knew for a fact he hadn’t had a night like that in almost four years, he couldn’t explain the pounding headache, and when he opened his eyes, he was drawing a blank. He searched his memory, but the last thing he recalled was running from the crowd of angry people with Ivy.
“He’s awake,” said a voice that sounded like it belonged to a teenage boy. It was in that cracking stage, somewhere between boy and man. It also had a fearful note.
“Don’t worry. He’s not going to hurt us. I’d be surprised if the dude can get up. I thought he was going to die.” That came from a firmer, slightly older voice. That boy had clearly gone through the change, and his voice was deeper, but still identifiably teenaged.
Matt groaned as he slowly turned over so he could see the people to whom the voices belonged. “I’m not going to hurt anyone.” He sounded awful, his voice slurred.
“Are you drunk, mister?” asked the younger boy.
Matt started to shake his head, and then groaned at the pain that accompanied the motion. “No, I’m not. Some assh…bad guy,” He changed the word at the last minute since he was talking to children, “Attacked me and kidnapped my friend, Ivy.”
“Ivy Gerard?” asked the younger boy.
Matt sat up slowly, feeling the world tilt around him as nausea lodged in his stomach. “Yeah.”
“Dude, I told you he was Matt Cromwell.”
“Yeah, you were right, David.” The older boy sound pained to acknowledge it. “What are you doing here in the middle of the road?”
“Like I said, someone jumped me and knocked me out. His name is Kenny, and he owns a pawnshop, but that’s all I can tell you. That creep has Ivy.” He blinked as he spoke the words, because the memory returned. It had just spontaneously burst into his head, filling the blank spots in his memory that had been there just seconds before.
“Crap, I have to find her.” He tried to stand up, but he made it only as far as his knees before he had to lean over and throw up. Still, he kept trying. He was surprised a moment later to feel
two hands on each of his arms, helping him to stand. “Thank you.” How was he going to find Ivy? Even thinking about it made his head pound harder.
“I think we’d better take him home, Dean.”
“Mom will have kittens, David.”
“Mom wouldn’t just leave him here either. We know who he is, and he’s not going to hurt us. How could he? It would be the wrong thing to leave him here, and you know it.” David spoke passionately, and it seemed to sway Dean.
“Yeah, okay.” His arm went around Matt’s back. “Just behave yourself.”
“Yeah.” Without thought, Matt’s hand went to his hip holster, and he was surprised to find the Desert Eagle still there. At some point, someone must have stolen his backpack and his rifles, leaving him lying on the road. It must’ve been luck that obscured their vision, so they didn’t see the handgun, or they would’ve taken that too.
He wondered what kind of person could steal from someone who was unconscious and bleeding, but then he decided maybe it was better they’d just taken his things and gone. If they had so little conscience, they could’ve just as easily decided to finish the job.
He felt like he was moving as slowly as molasses as the boys guided him off the road and onto the sidewalk. They were doing most of the heavy lifting when it came to keeping him aloft, and all he could manage to do was drag his feet forward and grit his teeth hard to keep from vomiting again.
“Just a couple of blocks, Mr. Cromwell,” said David. “You can do it.”
“Yeah. Just a couple blocks.” Matt’s words sounded slurred to his own ears, and he wondered how scrambled his brain was. He needed to get it together and focus, or he wasn’t going to be able to find Ivy.