by Ariel Bonin
"You don't have to say anything—I know it must be difficult for you," Lindsey said, resting a soothing hand over his heart, like she knew the hurt she'd caused him. "I'm sorry."
Andrew figured she was apologizing for bringing up his lost son, but it also sounded like she was apologizing for the predicament as a whole. He hoped Lindsey still didn't hold guilt for her involvement in Jacob's disappearance. It'd been one of those situations that had happened too quickly, but now they had all the time in the world to question what they could have done differently. It was human instinct; he was sure she still blamed herself.
"Jacob's still out there," he said finally. "We'll get out of here, and we'll find him."
The words fell flat. It sickened him to recognize that he simply did not believe them. That crushing realization threatened the tough exterior he'd built around himself. He liked to think that he lived by his father's saying "Real men don't cry," but loss was always the exception. Andrew had watched his dad weep when his mother's casket was carried out of the church at her funeral. He considered that one of his worst pre-apocalypse memories, and hated reliving it. Now it was hard not to, because he lived with that same anguish every damn day.
Andrew's eyes dampened and he clenched his jaw to ward off the looming tears. He needed to stay focused on the plan. There would be more than enough time to mourn when they got back to the ranch.
"We will," Lindsey said softly, replying to his statement about finding Jacob. Her avowal held much more conviction than his own.
Andrew didn't know what he'd do without her resilience. He'd fall apart—that's what would happen. They both had their moments of ups and downs, but they always managed to come through for one another. Sometimes he wondered if physical or emotional strength was more important for survival in this cruel world. If it was the latter, they might have a shot at outlasting this thing.
"Come here," Lindsey whispered as she brought him back to reality. She held his cheeks in her gentle hands and guided his head down to rest against her chest. She stroked his hair and held him close, her heart beating under his ear. "I love you," she said against the short strands.
Andrew grasped one of her hands and brought it to his lips.
"I love you, too, Linds."
Chapter 28
The next day, Andrew and Lindsey kept their promise of laying low. The machine in her section was still down, so they were stuck casting bullets again. Her body ached from the day before, but she pushed through it, knowing that they wouldn't be there for much longer.
When the group sat down for dinner that evening, they went over the plan one last time. Grace made sure everyone knew their jobs. All the pieces were in place. Lindsey was ready to get it done, but a part of her was nervous for her group and the innocent people involved. If even one thing went wrong, good people would die.
For that reason, she didn't sleep much that night. She knew Andrew didn't either. On more than one occasion, she caught him staring at the ceiling, his mind racing. When dawn broke the darkness around them, Lindsey curled into his arms. Andrew dropped soft kisses onto her forehead as he held her close.
Numerous workers began to rise from their cots, signaling the start of the day. Lindsey and the others went about their usual routine of getting dressed and eating breakfast. They began casting bullets again—nothing out of the ordinary. When Isaac and the rest of his goons walked by later in the day, Mickey grabbed their attention.
"Hey, guys! The sorter's been down for a few days now, but I went through this batch personally," he stated, passing the tattooed man a couple of boxes of ammunition. "You should have the best of the best here. They've got the Mickey stamp of approval for your run today," he added with a trustworthy grin.
"Yeah, okay," Isaac replied, taking the boxes without much interest. Lindsey watched Mickey swap a glance with Andrew at the end of the exchange.
Well, that was easy. First step—done.
The gang of coarse men left the factory floor to go on their run. Getting those key players from Samuel's posse out of the building was a huge factor in the plan. It left, what they considered, the skeleton crew—just enough security to get by until the others returned. Only three guards were posted in the vicinity. Lindsey wondered why no one had attempted an escape before this. Maybe they had, but with negative results.
About thirty minutes later, a man dashed into the large room, his eyes wide and frantic.
"There's a fire in the barracks!" he shouted.
Mass panic ensued, but Lindsey knew it was staged. Men and women rushed toward the exits, overwhelming the guards posted at each. Mickey pointed to the guard nearby.
"Get Samuel! Have him meet us there!" he yelled over all the screaming.
The guard looked torn as to what he should do, but ultimately decided to follow Mickey's orders. He took off in the direction of Samuel's office, disappearing into the crowd. The other guards were quickly disarmed and crushed in the swarm of escaping workers.
"Let's go!" Grace announced, heading away from the mob.
Lindsey's heart sped up at the woman's words. This was it—do or die. Andrew turned to Lindsey and kissed her with a breathtaking ferocity, his arms swallowing her whole.
"I'll see you on the outside?" she whispered from trembling lips.
Andrew nodded and gazed into her stormy eyes. "I love you."
"Andrew!" Ana yelled as she followed Grace and Zoey.
He slipped out of Lindsey's grasp, and her words were drowned out by the surrounding noise.
"I love you, too."
She watched him leave, everything around her moving fast and slow at the same time. Her feet felt rooted in place. She knew she had a job to do, but wanted to follow Andrew. It was the one part of the plan she hated. It seemed wrong to be separated from him right now, and reminded her of his previous plan with the horde at the development.
Charlie grabbed Lindsey's arm, and she snapped back to the task at hand.
_____
Andrew, Zoey, and Ana shadowed Grace down the winding hallways. The older woman knew the location of the armory after accidentally walking past it one day. A guard was always placed outside the door, signaling that something worth protecting was inside.
The three survivors halted while Grace peeked around the corner, catching a glimpse of their final destination.
"It's just the one," she mouthed, holding up a single finger.
Ana looked back at Andrew, nodding once. He returned it. He'd argued for Zoey to go with Lindsey during this phase of the operation, but eventually conceded when the girl assured him that she could help. Besides, Andrew did feel better when he could keep an eye on his daughter. That way, if something did happen, it would be on his conscience and no one else's. His only condition was that Grace keep Zoey from seeing what he was about to do.
Ana stepped away from the wall and casually strolled around the corner. Andrew waited for Grace's signal as his adrenaline swelled. He heard murmurs from down the hall, and saw Grace motion him forward. Her signal registered in his mind, but he processed it without thinking, almost as if he were having an out of body experience. Keeping silent, he moved around Zoey and Grace, and turned the corner. His foot falls were soft, almost inaudible. Ana was talking to the guard, her bright white smile illuminated as they exchanged some suggestive words. The guard's back was to Andrew, and he hoped it stayed that way. Ana made no sudden movements, keeping her eyes on the guard, as not to give away Andrew's position behind him.
In a flash, Andrew raised the belt in his hands, wrapping it around the guard's neck and pulling back. The man clawed at his constricted throat, and Andrew yanked it tighter. The guard got his fingers under the belt, and Andrew's forearms burned as he secured his grip on the leathery material. They fell back against the wall as the man weakened and slumped over. Andrew dropped his arms, winded from the physical exertion. Ana extended a hand and helped him up in one swoop.
As Andrew confiscated the man's assault rifle, Grace and Zoey
appeared beside them. Zoey stared at the dead man on the floor, her weary gaze settling on her father. Andrew's cold eyes glanced away, focusing on the armory door as Grace unsnapped a set of keys from the guard's belt. She tried a couple without success, but the third one was the charm. She swung open the door and they all stopped short.
The last time Andrew saw an arsenal like this was when he paid a visit to his old Army base. An indistinguishable amount of rifles hung from the walls, along with a large collection of handguns and specialized weapons. Various boxes of jacketed ammunition were strewn about the room.
Ana let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, baby, there you are." She walked over to her bow and removed it from the hook. Holding it up to the light, she inspected it to be sure it was exactly how she left it. Apparently satisfied, she positioned the quiver of arrows on her back and turned to the others.
"Grab a bag and load up," Grace said.
Andrew stood by Ana and noticed his gun belt, with the Beretta still intact. He wrapped it around his hips and felt like he had gotten back a part of him that'd been missing. Zoey smiled as she picked up her own holster and handgun. Hidden underneath, was Lindsey's Glock. The girl tucked it into the waistband of her pants and gave her father a nod. Andrew was happy to see Zoey taking initiative, and was sure that Lindsey would also be happy to get her gun back.
The group picked up two canvas bags and began filling them with whatever they could reach. Once full, Andrew shouldered the first bag, while Grace took the other. They had everything they needed, except for one thing. Andrew gestured to a spot by the doorway, and Zoey reached up, wielding Charlie's rifle. She secured it on her shoulder.
Upon exiting the armory, a smell of smoke hung in the air. Grace inspected the hallway in both directions.
"Fire must be spreading pretty quickly. We need to hurry."
They went back the way they came, turning one corner, and then another. In the last hallway, they came face to face with a wall of fire. Flames licked up at the ceiling, causing pieces to fall and further kindle the blaze.
"Shit! There's no way through!" Ana said, alarm flickering in her dark eyes.
Grace looked around. "We'll double back—this way!" she said, leading them down a different passage.
It seemed like this section of the building was clear of people, so they made no effort to search for evacuees, focusing on their own escape instead. They were almost outside when Andrew's bag got caught on something sticking out of the wall.
"Go ahead! I'll be right out," he said, dropping the bag from his shoulder. Zoey hesitated, and Andrew waved her away. "Go!"
Ana gripped the girl's shirt, hauling her outside. Andrew started to inspect the location of the snag, but was knocked to the ground.
_____
Lindsey and Charlie managed to get outside with the rest of the fleeing survivors. Once out in the open, she was able to get a better look at the people around her. Grace had pointed out specific people to watch for, and, so far, Lindsey was seeing all of them. How was that even possible? Was their plan really working?
Charlie motioned for Lindsey to follow him and he brought her over to a man she'd met the day before. His name was Arthur, a gruff survivalist-type, even before the shit hit the fan. With a deeply-lined face and salt-n-pepper hair, he looked like he'd spent most of his life in the wilderness.
"How's it goin', Charlie?" Arthur asked in a gravelly voice as he held out a weathered hand. Charlie returned the handshake, and Lindsey gave the man a friendly smile.
"So far, so good, I think," the rancher replied. "Where're we at, Lindsey?"
Lindsey reached into her pocket and removed Andrew's wrist watch. Grace had her own watch to keep track of the time, so Andrew had given Lindsey his after breakfast. She'd been a little hesitant at first to take it, because she'd never seen him take it off and didn't want to run the risk of losing or breaking it. He'd stuffed it in her pocket anyway, insisting that he could get a new one if it came to that. The recent memory softened her gaze as she glanced at the watch face.
"They should be out any minute now with the guns," Lindsey said, returning the watch to her pocket.
Arthur gave her a nod. Charlie squinted up at the factory, bringing a hand to his forehead to block the blinding sun. Lindsey followed his gaze and saw dark, billowing smoke pouring from a section of the roof. The fire was spreading rapidly, and Lindsey experienced a curl of fear deep in her stomach.
They waited a few more minutes, but Andrew and the others didn't show.
Where the hell are they?
"We should probably start getting these people out of here," Arthur said as he motioned to the vehicles parked nearby. "This smoke is gonna bring the deadheads in droves."
That step was supposed to take place after they were all back together, but Arthur was right. The shuffling forms of turners lingered in the distance. The guards had done a good job of keeping the area clear before this, but the dead couldn't be stopped now—the raging fire drew too much attention.
Lindsey trailed the two men over to the makeshift parking lot. Charlie's Ford stood out at the end of the line. He opened the driver's door, checking the inside, while Lindsey moved to the passenger side.
"Keys are in the ignition. Looks how we left it," Charlie said as he shifted to sit behind the wheel.
Lindsey searched the door cubby and glove box, coming across their spare hunting knife. She slipped it through her belt.
Charlie started the truck and examined the dash.
"Hell yeah, still got half a tank."
The blonde grinned at him and hopped in. Charlie drove to where they'd been standing before, turning the truck so that it faced away from the factory. Between the turners and a more than likely explosion, they needed to get out of there as soon as possible.
When Lindsey stepped down from the vehicle, a shout echoed across the yard.
"We've got company!"
She fully expected to see a swarm of turners pressing in on them, but was surprised to see Samuel's men returning from their run, also drawn in by the smoke.
Oh, shit. This isn't going to be good.
There were only two armed people in the crowd of workers, but Lindsey couldn't locate them. The large military truck came grinding to a stop, kicking up a thick haze of dirt behind it. Isaac swung out, his assault rifle aimed at the person closest to him.
"Charlie!" Lindsey yelled in an attempt to warn the man.
Charlie had no time to react—and nothing to protect himself with as Isaac fired his weapon.
_____
Andrew struggled against the person on top of him. He took a punch to the brow before he caught sight of his assailant. Samuel was almost unrecognizable underneath the layer of soot that coated his body, but Andrew could tell it was him from the unforgettable gray eyes.
"I knew I should have let you die!" Samuel snarled as he struck Andrew a second time.
Unadulterated rage flowed through Andrew. He clocked Samuel in the side of the head, freeing himself from the weight of his attacker. He scrambled to his feet and kicked Samuel in the stomach, driving his boot into the bastard's ribs. Samuel reached out and grabbed Andrew's ankle, wrenching him sideways. His leg twisted, and he experienced a popping sensation in his kneecap. It instantly gave out.
They tousled on the cold concrete and, when Samuel managed to get behind him, Andrew threw his head back, catching Samuel in the face. The man was temporarily stunned. While fighting the pain in his knee, Andrew clambered to his feet. He grimaced as he kicked Samuel again, this time under the chin. Blood pooled in the man's mouth and he gave Andrew a red grin as the latter pulled his gun.
"So that's it? You're just gonna shoot me?" Samuel slurred. "I saved you from the fights, and I could've fucked Lindsey if I'd wanted to, but no! We made a deal, Andrew—and this is how you repay me?"
Andrew sneered at the man's statement. "No, I'm not just gonna shoot you."
A moment later, he put a bullet into Samuel's leg. The man yelped an
d writhed on the floor. Andrew holstered his weapon and got down next to the injured man. He took his time withdrawing his knife. He reflected on all the shit Samuel had put them through in just the past week: the stand-off at the gas station, the people Charlie and Lindsey were forced to kill—and the way he'd looked at Lindsey after Andrew had made love to her right in front of him.
Andrew clenched his teeth together and jammed the knife into Samuel's stomach, twisting the handle for added torture. The man grabbed at his wound as Andrew yanked out the blade. Samuel was suffering, and that was exactly how Andrew wanted it.
"You're never going to hurt another person again," Andrew muttered, moving the blade to Samuel's throat, "and this is for Lindsey."
With a swift movement, Andrew cut Samuel's throat. Crimson liquid pulsed out, pooling on the floor beneath him. Andrew watched the life fade from Samuel's eyes and knew it was over. When he finally looked away, he was shocked to realize that the room was fully engulfed in flames.
There was one thing left to do.
Seizing the deceased man by his leg, Andrew dragged him across the concrete. He stopped at the edge of the flames, and shoved Samuel into the fire.
_____
Charlie flinched, but when Isaac's rifle made a resonating "click," he started forward. Lindsey released the breath she'd been holding, and simply observed as Samuel's men attempted to fire their weapons to no avail. The barrel of one rifle exploded, sending the man onto his back. Miguel watched his comrade fall, and met the same fate when one of the armed workers put a round into his forehead.
Charlie snatched Isaac's rifle, using it to knock the man in the face. He grabbed Isaac by his shoulder and forced the man to his knees. Lindsey approached them, vengeance flickering in her dark eyes. Wasting no time, she leaned over and apprehended Isaac's handgun. After removing the magazine, she inspected the top bullet. She then reloaded it and expelled the round in the chamber.