Hope Survives

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Hope Survives Page 14

by Harley Tate


  Tracy let Walter go and laughed. “Sorry.” She peered in the direction that he came. “Tell me you found our daughter. Tell me the girls are all right.”

  Walter held out a hand. Even in the stratified light from the snowmobile, Tracy could see him shaking.

  Tracy’s insides seized. “What is it? What’s happened?”

  Peyton stomped up beside Tracy. “Are they dead?”

  Walter shook his head. “No. They’re alive and I know where they’ve been taken.”

  Tracy clutched at her middle. “Taken? By whom?”

  “The Cunninghams. That’s who ambushed us in the road.”

  “What?” Tracy palmed her forehead and looked out at the forest. The Cliftons had run into a few of Cunningham’s men while scavenging in the early days before Tracy and her family arrived. They had talked about how dangerous and brutal they were and convinced everyone to stay far, far away.

  Colt, Larkin, and Dani were the only ones to even encounter some of the clan, and it had been months ago. She couldn’t believe the news. If what the Cliftons had said about Cunningham was true, Madison and Brianna were in grave danger.

  She turned back to her husband. “Was it Cunningham who ambushed you on the road?”

  “I’m afraid so. We took out a good number of his men, but the rest are all living in an old motel on the shores of Donner Lake. I know where it is. It’s where they’ve taken the girls.”

  “What are they going to do to them?” Peyton voiced the question Tracy didn’t dare consider.

  “Nothing good.”

  “Then we need to go. We can hit them before they even know we’re coming.”

  “It’s not that simple. You remember all the guns Dani recovered from that car. If we show up, just the three of us, we’ll not only get ourselves killed, but we’ll be signing Madison and Brianna’s death warrants.”

  Peyton agreed. “No one else knows where they are. If something happens to us, they’ll be on their own.”

  “Then go home and tell everyone, but I’m not waiting. I have to save my daughter.” Tracy took a step toward the truck, but Walter reached out and grabbed her arm.

  “We only have one chance to save them, Tracy.” He closed the distance between them. “We have to do this the smart way.”

  Tracy sobbed. Her whole body urged her to go, to chase down whoever took her only child and make them pay. But her husband was right. She would only get them both killed. “We have to be fast, Walter. Every minute she’s out there…”

  “I know.” He clutched her tight, his lips brushing against her ear. Walter dropped his voice so only Tracy could hear. “I will do whatever it takes to get them back. You have my word.”

  She pulled away. “Let’s go. We need to plan.”

  Together, Tracy, Peyton, and Walter piled into the F-150 and Tracy punched the gas. It would take at least half an hour if not more to make it back to the Cliftons’ farm and a few hours to prepare.

  She checked her watch. They wouldn’t be ready until close to sunrise. She prayed they wouldn’t be too late.

  Right on her internal schedule, Tracy whipped the F-150 into the Cliftons’ farm just as the her watch turned to 4:00. She shoved the truck into park and blasted the horn three times.

  Colt and Dani were the first to emerge, followed by Larkin and Brianna’s parents. They all stood on the porches to the cabins, waiting.

  Tracy hurried to meet them. “Madison and Brianna have been kidnapped.”

  Anne covered her mouth with her hand. Barry’s cheeks flushed in anger. “Who took them?”

  Walter stopped beside Tracy. “The Cunninghams. That’s who ambushed us with the roadblock.”

  Barry’s face slipped from red to white in a matter of seconds. “Then it’s too late. They’ll be dead already.”

  “Don’t say that.” Tracy turned to Barry. “We’re going to rescue them.”

  “How?” Anne looked up at her husband, echoing his fear. “There’s fifty of them at least, all built like tanks and stockpiled with weapons. We even step foot near the lake and we’re asking to get strung up by our feet and left for the bears. We almost died when we ran into a group of them in Truckee.”

  Tracy slammed a fist into her palm. “We are going to get them back.”

  “We need all the guns and ammo we can carry and more besides.” Larkin motioned to Peyton. “Help me get everything together.” The two set off for the weapons shed and Tracy exhaled in relief.

  Colt nodded. “We’ll need diversions, too. Dani and I can get started making up some smoke bombs. We can do what we did in Eugene and flush them out.” They took off, leaving Tracy and Walter and the Cliftons alone.

  Walter reached for Tracy’s hand and gave it a squeeze before turning to Anne and Barry. “I know this is scary, but Colt, Larkin, and I are no stranger to combat. We can do this. We can get our daughters back.”

  Barry nodded, but his expression was still grim. “We’ll go together. All of us.”

  “What about Ben?”

  “We can set him up with supplies.” Barry glanced at his wife. “We need to be prepared for the worst-case scenario, not just for Ben, but for all of us.”

  Tracy volunteered. “That Brianna and Madison are already dead?”

  “No. That we’re signing our death warrants. If we don’t kill every last Cunningham in that place, we’ll never be able to sleep again. They will hunt us down. They will make us pay. It’s what they do.”

  Walter nodded. “The one I spoke to said as much. It’s why he took Madison and Brianna. He blames them for his father’s death.”

  Tracy stayed silent as Walter explained what he’d learned to Barry and Anne. When he finished, Barry nodded in understanding. “It’s their code. Even before the grid collapsed they were like that. The old man lived not that far from here in a shack up north of the ski resorts. If he thought you wronged him, he never forgot it.”

  Anne nodded. “A few years ago one of his dogs was hit by a car. He was convinced Spencer, a nice old man who lived on the resort property, was responsible.” She pulled her coat tighter as she recalled the memory. “Spencer woke up one morning to find all his chickens slaughtered and his horses missing. He died not long after.”

  Tracy exhaled. “And it’s the same Cunningham who’s in charge now?”

  “His son, from what I can tell.”

  “Then we can’t waste anymore time. We need to hit them and hit them hard. Our daughters aren’t going to end up like those chickens.”

  Barry’s voice cracked as he spoke. “If we don’t get there in time, they’ll end up a hell of a lot worse.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  MADISON

  Somewhere near Truckee, CA

  5:00 a.m.

  “What the…”

  A groan sounded from somewhere nearby and Madison rolled onto her side. A sharp pain lanced her hand and she clutched it tight to her chest.

  “Where the hell are we?” Brianna’s voice cut through the throbbing and Madison managed to sit up.

  “Wherever Silas decided to take us, I guess.”

  “Who is Silas?”

  Madison blinked. She couldn’t see much in the dark. Using her good hand as a guide she stood and felt around. Wood table. Four chairs. Old tube TV on a bench. Bed with a bouncy, squeaky mattress. Ashtray full of cigarette butts.

  She recoiled with a grimace and opened the drawer to the bedside table. “Yes!” She clicked on the small flashlight and a weak beam of light illuminated the space. The room was just as she’d felt in the dark: old and run-down. “I think we’re in a motel.”

  Brianna groaned. “A really nasty motel.” She picked her fingers up from the floor. “The carpet is gritty.”

  Madison shined the light on the floor. What had once been brown indoor-outdoor carpet now looked like worn down strips of Velcro stapled to the floor. “Maybe this room was scheduled for renovation before the EMP.”

  “Or maybe this Silas guy is a slob.” Brianna
looked around the room. “Where are our jackets?”

  Madison glanced down at her sweater and jeans. “I don’t want to know. We need to get out of here.” She walked over to the windows and clicked off the light. It was still dark, but judging by the pale coloring of the sky on the edge of the forest, dawn wasn’t that far off. “We can’t be here when they come looking for us.”

  “Why not?”

  Madison turned to Brianna. “Because whatever they have in mind, it’ll be bad.” She filled her best friend in on what happened after she passed out. When she got to the part about Silas turning on her, Brianna cursed.

  “So you saving his life didn’t matter?”

  “Apparently not.” Madison eased down onto the edge of the bed. The flashlight lit up a stain streaked across the lower half of the comforter and she stood back up. “He thinks we’re to blame. He’s going to be taking out his anger on us.”

  Brianna tugged a hair elastic off her wrist and wrapped up her hair into a tight bun. “Then let’s go. You scope out the windows. I’ll try the front door.”

  She leaned forward on her knee and tried to stand. She didn’t make it more than halfway up before collapsing in pain. “Damn it.” She slammed her palm on the ground. “I forgot about my leg.”

  Madison walked over and crouched beside Brianna’s left leg. The swelling in her knee was almost gone. “In the Jeep your knee was huge. Are you sure it’s your leg that’s broken and not something in your knee?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What about your head? You were out of it in the Jeep. I tried to wake you up, but I couldn’t.”

  “I have a nasty headache, but other than that, I’m alive.” Brianna pointed at Madison’s head. “You don’t look so good yourself. Try to help me up.”

  Madison held out her good arm and Brianna tried to stand. She shook her head and eased back to the floor. “It hurts like a you-know-what as soon as I put weight on it.”

  “Then we’ll have to rig up a splint.” Madison spun around, searching for something she could use. The flashlight beam lit up old, painted cabinets with one knob missing. A kitchenette with a wood-paneled mini-fridge and a single burner on the Formica counter. A small closet with sliding doors.

  “Here!” She rushed to the closet and popped the wooden closet rod out of the slots on the wall. “We can secure your leg to this to stabilize it.”

  “I don’t think that will work.”

  “We won’t know unless we try.”

  Madison brought the rod over and set it beside Brianna’s leg. “Try and straighten it out.”

  Brianna clenched a fist as she lowered her leg toward the floor. A few inches away, she shook her head. “I can’t do it. It hurts too much. I need some sort of crutch.” She grabbed the closet rod. “How about this? Can we make it into a crutch or a cane?”

  “We can try.” Madison picked up the rod and set it on the bed before beginning her search. She managed to find a wooden clothing hanger in the closet and two potholders in the kitchenette. After ripping off a strip of fabric from the flat bed sheet, Madison brought everything over to Brianna and the pair set to work bending the metal hook of the hanger and wedging it into the hole on the end of the rod.

  When it was tight enough not to wiggle, Brianna wrapped the pot holders around the hanger and wound the strip of sheet around and around the entire contraption until it resembled a single crutch. She held it out with a smile. “What do you think?”

  “That I have an amazing best friend.” Madison glanced down at her own injury. “I wish we had something for my hand.”

  Using the new crutch, Brianna managed to drag herself up to stand. She held her injured leg bent with her foot off the ground and leaned on the crutch. “This will work. Let’s look for something for you.”

  “We don’t have time. Besides, I can manage. Check the front door. I’ll check the windows.” Madison hurried over, but her hope soon faded. They were old, single-paned, and unable to open. She peered down into the dark. They had to be at least a full story off the ground. “We can’t get out this way.”

  “The door is locked. It won’t even budge.” Brianna gave the handle a yank. “There’s a plate covering the lock. Even if we had a crowbar, I don’t think we could wedge it in far enough to pop it.” She sighed and turned around. “I can’t see anything through the peephole, either.”

  “Then we’re trapped.” Madison reached up and gingerly felt around the bruising on her temple. Her head still ached and every time she turned too quickly, it took a moment for her vision to catch up. Two of her fingers were mangled and she didn’t know if she would ever be able to set them right again.

  She slumped onto the bed, no longer caring about the grime. “We have no weapons and no way out. We’re going to die here.”

  “Don’t say that. We’re not giving up. Not yet.” Brianna hobbled away from the door and stopped at the foot of the bed. “There has to be another way.” She crossed the room and threw open a cabinet. Using her crutch to keep her balance, she ran her fingers up and down the back wall.

  “That isn’t a magical wardrobe. We’re not going to find a gateway to another world through it.” Madison fell back onto the bed and a cloud of dust plumed into the air. The circle of light from the flashlight came to rest on a vent grate in the short wall above the closet.

  Madison stared at it for a moment before peeling herself off the bed. She dragged a chair over to the closet and climbed on top. Using the flashlight, she inspected the screws and the space beyond the vent. “I think it’s big enough. If we can get this grate open, we might be able to crawl out.”

  “How are we going to get up there?”

  Madison hopped off the chair and opened the drawers in the kitchenette. She pulled out a beat-up butter knife and climbed back onto the chair. With the flashlight gripped between her teeth, she wedged the knife under the side of the vent and tried to pry it open. It wobbled, but didn’t come free.

  She spit out the flashlight long enough to talk. “Let me see if I can get it open.”

  “I’ll search the rest of this dump for anything we can use.”

  While Brianna opened cabinets and drawers and looked under the bed, Madison managed to slide the knife blade into the screw top on the lower left of the vent grill. With painstaking effort, she twisted the screw until it popped free. “One down, one to go.”

  “I think we can stack these bedside tables. That should give us enough height.” Brianna pushed the far table off the wall. “Ooooh! And I found a lighter!” She disappeared beneath the side of the bed and came back holding a glowing flame. “Plenty of butane, too.”

  Madison managed to unscrew the other side and used the knife to pop the bottom of the vent grill free. She shone the light down the shaft. “It’s a return duct. Pretty big. Tons of dust and…” she groaned. “Dead cockroaches.”

  “I don’t care if it’s full of live rats if it gets us out of here.” Brianna shoved the table again. “Help me move this over there and we can climb up.”

  Together, the young women worked to build a steady platform, stacking the bedside tables against the wall and using the bed to keep them stable. It wasn’t the safest of climbing structures, but it would give them a means of getting up.

  Madison climbed up onto the bed and held out her one good hand. “I’ll stand here and help you up.”

  Brianna took ahold and grimaced against the pain as she stood on one leg. She looked up at the vent. “Here goes nothing.” With Madison’s hand gripping the underside of her thigh, Brianna used her upper body strength and Madison’s leverage to make it onto the first table.

  She stood up eased the crutch into the hole. “If we fall through the duct and into someone else’s room, I hope they’ve got a bigger bed.”

  “Why?”

  “So we land on it and not the floor.” Brianna shoved her arms into the vent shaft and hooked her elbows over the opening. “Push as hard as you can on three. One, two, three.”

>   Madison shoved her up, straddling the sinking mattress as Brianna scrabbled with all her might. After a few touch and go moments, her good leg kicked like a dolphin and she disappeared inside the shaft.

  “When you said cockroaches, you meant it. These things are as big as chihuahuas.”

  “Can you see anything?”

  The flashlight beam bounced around in the vent for a moment. “It ends in the T about twenty feet ahead. We’ll have to make a choice which way to go.”

  “I vote for the path with the fewest bugs.”

  “Deal.”

  Madison climbed up the end tables and shimmied into the vent. The grate swung shut behind her and she low-crawled toward Brianna. “Let’s find a way out of this place.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  WALTER

  Donner Lake

  6:00 a.m.

  The lone sentry leaned back against a dented Toyota Tacoma, shotgun perched on his forearm.

  “See anyone else?” Colt leaned close enough to Walter to whisper.

  “No. But the way he keeps checking his watch, we’ve got to be near a shift change.”

  “Then let’s wait him out.”

  “Tracy will be impatient.”

  Colt glanced behind him where the rest of their group sheltered in the trees. “Do we want to do this right or fast?”

  Walter exhaled. “We’ll wait.”

  It didn’t take long. Within five minutes, another pickup truck rumbled down the single access road on that side of the lake and stopped beside the Tacoma. A man lumbered down from the cab, hair shorn close to the scalp, with a wiry beard stretching almost to his collarbone.

  He hoisted a leather jacket over his expansive shoulders and plucked a hunting rifle off a rack mounted in front of the truck’s rear window before walking around to shake the sentry’s hand.

  “All quiet?”

  The sentry spit out a wad of tobacco juice and adjusted the dip in his lip. “Yup. Ain’t seen nothin’.”

  “Good.” The new man ran a hand through his beard. “Silas brought us back a couple of real nice presents.”

 

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