by AR Colbert
Cato had walked these tunnels. Dad maybe had, too. When I considered it, it almost seemed natural that I was now taking my turn here in the dark, abandoned, underground maze. It was like a family rite of passage.
Eventually, John Michael turned us down a smaller, but very well worn passageway with far fewer staircases. We were getting close. He parked his bicycle next to a metal ladder, rungs shiny from years of hands and feet stepping and pulling their way up.
“Here we are,” he said, checking his watch. “And just in time. I expect I’ll be getting a call any minute now.”
“From who?” I parked my bike beside his and hopped down. My legs felt a little wobbly from riding six miles for the first time in years, but I shook it off and ascended the ladder after him.
“From the rancher.” He felt around on the ceiling above until he found the spot that would push our opening ajar. I watched his legs disappear above me. Then his face reemerged with a grin and he extended a hand to help me up.
“I’ve got it, thanks.” I didn’t need help getting out. What I really needed was a better explanation of the plan. I still wasn’t entirely sure what was going on.
John Michael’s pocket buzzed before I could ask. He pulled out a small screen, flashing with a series of numbers. It was a cell phone. I knew it had to be, but I was still stunned. Add another piece of tech to the list of things I’d only ever seen in history books.
“Hello... Oh no, where are you located?... Alright. I’ll get some tools and meet you there. Sit tight.” He tapped the screen and the device went dark before he slid it back into his pocket. “Man, I’ve got good timing.”
John Michael’s teeth were a little turned, but his smile was bright. I snorted at his playful arrogance. We were sitting on a dusty floor in the backroom of an empty business of some kind—automotive-related if I had to guess. The windows were caked over with dirt, casting eerie shadows from the gray sunlight that barely filtered in.
“Ever changed a tire before?”
“What do you think?” I crossed my arms.
“Eh, there’s a first time for everything.”
He helped me to my feet and led me through a storage area out into what was once the public-facing area of an old gas station. A side set of doors remained unlocked, and we exited around the back of the building to where a Classen City work truck was parked. Two tires sat in the bed of the truck.
I crooked an eyebrow at John Michael. “Well this is convenient. And so official looking, too.”
“I like to hide in plain sight.”
“That’s very John Michael of you. A boring John would probably be tucked away in the woods right now.”
“You’re snarky.” He pointed a finger at me with a grin. “I like it. You remind me of my daughter.”
The comment warmed my heart a little. I liked John Michael. There was something about him, like James, that I found endearing. I felt safe with him.
“Really though, it seems like you run a pretty tight ship. I don’t want to throw you off your schedule too much, but can we take a second to discuss the plan? I am still really out of the loop.”
“First of all, get used to it. Out of the loop is how the Embers roll. Second of all, yes. Climb in the cab and we’ll talk details on our way out.”
I hustled around to the passenger side of the truck and hopped in. The cab was comfortable, with plenty of room for both of our bags behind the seats. The truck came to life with a hum, and John Michael expertly pulled out onto the old state highway, driving toward the river.
“Emilio and I came out here after Felix called yesterday. Truth is, I was a little offended that he didn’t call sooner. I think I would have been great for this team. But that’s neither here nor there. Emilio played with his little airplane doo-dad until he located the camp.”
“You mean the drone?”
“Right. It didn’t take long. The Exiled are just a little ways up ahead, actually.”
I studied John Michael from the passenger seat. He was older than me, maybe my dad’s age, but full of life. There wasn’t an ounce of fear in the man. His eyes sparkled like his father’s, but his calming demeanor reminded me of my father.
“After we found where those scumbags are hiding, we threw some screws in the road.”
“Screws? Like the little metal fixtures?” He nodded. “Why?”
“So we could pop my rancher’s tires.”
Everything he said was so matter-of-fact, I don’t know why I laughed. He clearly wasn’t joking. But this was bizarre.
“How old is your daughter?” I asked.
“Twelve.”
“Okay, tell me what’s happening like you would explain it to your daughter.”
“She doesn’t ask as many questions as you. I think you may be a little more dense,” he said with a smirk.
I groaned and leaned my head back against the seat.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he said. “I called a Worker I know from one of the Classen City ranches east of town. I told him there was an emergency event coming up, and that we needed six head of cattle ASAP. It’s not completely out of line, and Cormack has called in favors like this before. It seemed plausible, so they didn’t ask any questions.”
Okay. This was starting to make more sense. Felix knew the Exiled stole cattle from the Embers, so it seemed natural that a truck full of them would catch their attention again. I liked where this was going.
“We dragged a log out into the main road the ranch Workers normally take into town so he would have to make a detour near the river. It’s not too far out of his way, but it swings him right near where the Exiled camp is set up.”
“You’re baiting them.”
“Exactly. But I don’t think they’re dumb enough to seize a moving vehicle hauling several tons of beef. So I had to stop the beef in its tracks. In its tire tracks, to be precise.”
“So you threw a bunch of screws in the road to pop the tires and bring the truck to a stop.”
“Yep. I was going to use nails, but then I thought, ‘screw it.’”
I rolled my eyes. Dad jokes were universal, apparently. “And the call you got earlier was from the Worker driving the cattle?”
“It was. Can you believe he got three flat tires?”
“There are only two new ones in the bed of the truck, though.”
“Whoops. Guess he’ll have to ride back with us and leave the truck and the cattle behind.” John Michael grinned and tapped the brakes as a muddy farm truck and trailer came into view over the hill before us. He brought it to a stop several yards away from the rancher, ensuring we wouldn’t drive over the same screws that popped the other man’s tires.
“I’ll deal with the rancher. While I’m talking to him, you go and place the amplifiers Emilio dropped into your bag. Put one in the cab of his truck—they’ll probably steal it. But in case they don’t, put one on a cow too.”
“What if he sees me?”
“Don’t let him.”
“And how am I supposed to attach an amplifier to a cow?”
“Quickly, so he doesn’t see you.”
The rancher was walking in our direction. John Michael didn’t hear me huff because he’d already opened his door to greet the agitated Worker. I hopped out of the cab and walked toward the cattle truck.
“Thanks for coming so quickly, John.”
I wanted to shout ‘it’s John Michael,’ but I walked forward instead, averting my eyes. I didn’t want to risk the Worker putting a name with my face. This whole operation was beginning to feel like the opposite of stealth.
“I didn’t realize you were bringing help.” I could feel the rancher’s eyes boring into me, but I kept my head down, walking quickly toward his vehicle.
“Yeah, she’s in training. I told her she could come but she had to stay out of our way.”
I picked up my pace as I neared the truck, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling I was being watched, even after I’d moved out of the rancher’
s sight. I heard the men’s muffled voices from around the opposite side of the truck, but everything else was silent. The cows didn’t shuffle in the trailer; they just stared unblinking through the open slats along the side. Even the wind was absent. It was like the world had stopped around me. But the hair on my arms didn’t get the message. It stood defiantly on end.
I shivered, and pulled my backpack off of my shoulder, unzipping it to find an amplifier sitting atop the rest of my supplies. I pulled it out and left the bag on the road, propped up by one of the tires on the farm truck. I pulled at the passenger door handle and swore under my breath. Locked.
Should I get the cow first or sneak around to the driver’s side door?
I peeked around the front of the truck and overheard the rancher’s raised voice. “I told you there were three! What am I supposed to do now?”
I didn’t have much time. I scurried around the front of the truck and tossed one amplifier into the open driver’s side window. I’d go back and attach it if there was still time after the cow.
Ugh. The cow.
I stole a glance back at the men talking as I snuck back to the trailer, and I felt it again. A sense of dread. Was I being paranoid? Looking around, I saw nothing out of place. Nothing at all. There was no noise—no heavy breathing, no racing pulses. I had to have been imagining things.
I examined the lock on the trailer, trying to decide whether I should attempt to pick it or just throw another amplifier in through one of the slats. The smell was starting to get to me and the giant, sad eyes of the animals tugged at my heartstrings. Poor things. They were going to get slaughtered soon either way.
I walked around to grab the second device from my bag, but it wasn’t sitting on the road anymore. The backpack was gone. My eyes immediately flashed back up to the forest, my heart racing. Again, there was nothing. No movement of any kind. But I wasn’t crazy. I knew the bag was here just moments earlier.
I tiptoed back to the front of the truck, watching the forest beside me as I went. The rancher was still shouting at John Michael, but he wasn’t paying the man any attention. His eyes were on me, questioning. He must have seen the fear on my face even from as far back as he stood. Something wasn’t right.
I turned once more to look behind me, the hammering of my pulse so loud in my ears now that I couldn’t hear anything else. The passenger door slammed open, knocking my body to the road and leaving skinned strawberries on my hands where I tried to catch my fall. Fire spread across my scalp as someone yanked me up from the ground by my hair.
“Claren!”
John Michael came running. I watched him through the dirty windshield of the farm truck I was now sitting inside. I couldn’t turn my head. My captor held me still in his lap with a fist full of my hair and a knife held to my throat.
“One move and you’re dead,” a gruff voice whispered in my ear. He reeked of an old wine bottle, and despite the situation, his energy was remarkably calm. It was terrifying.
My left arm and hip were throbbing from my fall, but my right hand was ready. I could reach up and grab his knife-wielding arm. But could I do it before he slit my throat? Probably not. The blade sat cold against my skin, pushing in enough that even a large swallow would leave me bleeding.
John Michael was almost to the truck when a sharp movement caught my eye from the tree line. He saw it too. With a quick turn of his torso, he fired off two loud shots, resulting in two bodies hitting the road. My captor didn’t like that.
He pushed the knife harder and it broke my skin. I felt the warmth of my own blood pooling around the cold blade. I couldn’t utter a single word without it cutting deeper. I was going to die. Right there in that dirty farm truck, in the disgusting lap of a man whose face I would never see.
John Michael set his sights on our farm truck next. His eyes twinkled no more. He had the look of a killer. And he was staring straight past me at the stranger who held me motionless. In the distance, I saw the Classen City work truck roar to life—the truck we’d taken here just minutes earlier.
John Michael and the rancher turned to the noise, but it was coming too fast. The vehicle flew over the road, hitting the rancher with an astonishing amount of force, sending his body flying off of the road and into a ditch on the opposite side.
“One down, one to go.” His hot breath on my ear made me want to gag, but gagging against the blade would probably kill me, too. I had barely registered what happened to the rancher when another group of three men came running around from the back of the trailer.
“You wanna watch this one die, too?” Phlegm rattled in my captor’s throat as he laughed viciously into my hair. He twisted my face toward the side mirror of the truck, giving me a perfect view of John Michael struggling against the other men. One had batted the gun from John Michael’s hand, and he retaliated with a strong punch to the Exiled man’s jaw, sending a mix of blood and saliva spraying.
But in forcing me to watch through the mirror, my captor had also loosened the blade against my neck. I seized the opportunity, grabbing his armed hand and slamming my head back into his nose.
“You stupid girl!”
He struck my temple with the handle of the knife, and I immediately slipped out of consciousness.
CHAPTER 26
My wrists were raw and my throat itched where the blood had crusted from the small cut made by the Exiled man’s knife. But I couldn’t scratch it. Not with my hands tied behind my back as they were.
I’d awoken lying on my side on a filthy cement floor covered in rat feces. Slowly, cautiously, I twisted myself up into a sitting position, bringing my knees toward my chest. I didn’t want to make any noise for fear I might attract one of the voices I heard talking through the wall.
I must have been taken by the Exiled. Kidnapped. Though this wasn’t a tent, like I’d seen them in before. It looked like I was sitting in an old workshop or large shed of some kind. Rusty tools and boxes sat on shelves along the walls. One tiny window in the opposite wall revealed nothing but tree branches outside. I didn’t dare get up and investigate closer. Not with those voices just outside.
I was alone. Which meant they’d either tied up John Michael separately, or...
Tears stung at the back of my eyes. He had a family. How could I face James after this? How could I explain to John Michael’s twelve-year-old daughter that her dad died trying to save me? I wasn’t worth saving.
A single, salty warm tear broke free from my lower lid and meandered down my cheek. The truth was, I probably wouldn’t have to worry about facing James and the rest of the family at all. If the Exiled killed John Michael, then my chances of escaping alive were slim to none.
The doors abruptly pushed open at the front of the shed and two scruffy men stepped inside.
“I told you she’d be awake.”
The second man grunted. “Go get Milo.”
The first man disappeared through the doors again, while the shorter, broader man approached me. His lip was slightly curled as he squatted down to inspect me more closely. He was nervous. Whatever they planned to do to me, he didn’t like it. Though it wasn’t my safety he was concerned about. He feared for his own.
I wanted to kick him away. I wanted to plant my heel firmly in his face. But I wasn’t that foolish. So I sat still, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I allowed the man to examine me from every angle. Disgusting.
After just a minute, the first man returned followed by a third. This third man, Milo, had a commanding presence. He sauntered in with bowed, denim-covered legs and a filthy black canvas jacket. His eyes were wild. Untamed. His grin was chilling. And he was wearing my backpack.
“There’s my little princess.”
My stomach twisted at the sound of his voice. This was the man who had pulled me into the truck. The thought of sitting in his lap was revolting.
“Sorry about your boyfriends,” he said, kneeling in front of me. He rubbed his thumb across my jawline, his skin so rough it practically scr
atched at my flesh. “But it’s nice to know you have an interest in older men.” He winked.
“I’d rather die.”
He tsked and stood. “Careful what you wish for, princess. I’m not so bad.”
The other two men chuckled. They believe that sentiment less than I did.
“We can kiss and make up later. Right now, I’ve got some questions for you.” He swung the bag over his shoulder and pulled out an amplifier. Turning it over in his fingers, he laughed. Then his smile disappeared and his brows drew angrily together. “What is this?”
He threw the device at me and I winced, unable to catch or block it with my hands tied behind my back. It bounced off my knee and hit the floor, sending all three men into a fit of laughter. These guys were lunatics.
“Well it didn’t explode,” Milo said, pacing in front of me. “Is it a weapon? Or are you trying to spy on me, princess?”
I gritted my teeth together, refusing to answer.
“I’m not an idiot, you know. Something’s going on. You want me. Why?”
I looked away. I didn’t plan on entertaining this creep. And I wouldn’t offer him any information. He was probably going to kill me, anyway.
He walked over to me quickly, dropping beside me and bringing my face close to his with my hair in his fist again, yanking my chin up in the process. He whispered loudly in my ear. “I’ll get you to talk. I suggest you do it now, because I’ll be the only one having fun if I have to force it out of you.” He licked my ear lobe, and I would have rathered he cut the whole thing off.
I swallowed the words I wanted to shout. This man was pure evil. He was really enjoying himself. But I needed to keep cool. He wanted information. Maybe I could play this to my benefit and still manage to find a way out of here.
“It is a weapon,” I muttered. “We know you’ve been attacking the city. I was sent to take you out with these.”
“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” Milo’s sing-songy voice was even more terrifying than his laugh. “They’ve got men for that type of work.” He grew more serious. “But you’re obviously someone important to them. They’ve sent you twice now. Who are you and what do you want with me?”