by Tate, Harley
Walter ran his thumb over the back of Tracy’s hand. “It gets worse.” He glanced past her to an interior door. “Colt, Larkin, and Dani tried to rescue me.”
“What happened?”
“Dani was shot.”
“Where is she?” Tracy scrambled off the cot, but her legs wobbled as she tried to stand. Walter caught her before she hit the ground.
“Easy. You need to rest.”
“I need to see her.” Tracy gripped her husband by the forearms to keep upright. “Where’s Colt? Does he know?”
“They took him, Brianna, and Larkin to the stables. I’m assuming they’re still there.”
“Not anymore.” A man stood in the doorway to the medical facility, his massive shoulders blotting out the view of the farm beyond. “They are in the bunkhouse getting cleaned up.”
The man strode forward and stretched out his hand. “Ben Jacobson. Good to see you up and on your feet.”
Tracy shook his hand with caution. “Tracy Sloane. You know about my daughter, Madison?”
“Yes.”
“Then you know we need a vaccine as soon as possible. Every second we delay, she’s at risk. If we don’t get to her before the virus reaches her central nervous system…”
“It will be too late. I’m aware.” He turned to Walter. “I’ve spoken with Colt. He’s agreed to stand down in exchange for a conversation about where we go from here.”
Tracy stamped her foot and the room spun. “That’s not good enough and you know it.”
“You have to give us more than that, Ben.” Walter hugged Tracy closer. “She’s our only daughter.”
The other man held up a hand. “I’m prepared to give you all the benefit of the doubt. We will give you the vaccine.”
Tracy clutched her husband to keep from falling. “Thank God.”
“But it comes with conditions.”
“We’re listening.”
“First, you give us directions to your farm. Three of my men will go there with the vaccine. I’ve instructed them they cannot leave until they have a visual on Madison and confirm that she is sick. Only then will they hand over the vaccine.”
Walter shook his head. “That will never work. The Cliftons will shoot them before they even enter the gate.”
“My men can defend themselves.”
Tracy rolled her eyes. “So you’re going to go all Call of Duty out in the woods? What for? To make a point?” She pulled away from Walter and stood on her own two feet. “If we don’t go with you, it’s a lost cause.”
Ben’s lips thinned into a line. His brown eyes bounced back and forth, assessing Tracy and Walter. “One of you can go.”
“Not good enough. We need two.”
“Fine. I’ll get the blonde.” Ben glanced at his shoes. “She’s proving to be a pain in the neck around here.”
Tracy bit back a grin. “What about Walter?”
“He stays.”
Tracy nibbled on her cheek. They were risking their lives trusting a man who was essentially keeping them prisoner, but they didn’t have a choice. Ben had access to a vaccine. She pulled her husband aside.
“Will you be okay here on your own?”
“Colt and Larkin will be here, too.” He stroked her hair. “What about you and Brianna? It’s risky.”
“We have to do it. Once her parents spot her, Brianna can convince them to let everyone in.” She squeezed her husband’s hand. “It’s the best way.”
“I don’t like you going on your own.”
“I don’t like leaving you, but Madison needs us.” Tracy planted a quick kiss on Walter’s cheek and stepped away. “Everything will work out.” She turned to Ben. “When do we leave?”
“Within the hour.”
2:30 p.m.
“This is ridiculous.” Brianna lifted both hands behind her head and pulled her wet hair back into a French braid. “My parents are liable to shoot us before we even get near the gate.”
“Then you better convince them not to.” Daniel, one of Ben’s henchmen, scowled as he climbed into the driver’s seat of a Chevy Silverado on a lift kit. “I’m not interested in bleeding out today.”
Brianna finished her hair before climbing onto a tire and over the side of the bed. She flopped onto a blanket-covered hay bale and crossed her arms. “You might as well drive up with a banner that says We’re The Bad Guys all over it. No way will my Dad think I’m in the back of this thing via my own free will.”
“What’s wrong with it?” Craig, one of their other escorts, leaned back to look at the truck before climbing in the front seat.
“It’s not the truck that’s the problem. It’s the occupants.”
Walter helped Tracy into the bed and squeezed her hand. “I’ll see you again soon.” He smiled and leaned close. “Keep that one out of trouble.”
Tracy glanced at Brianna. “I don’t think that’s possible, but I’ll try.”
Walter pulled back and slapped the side of the truck. It rumbled to life.
Tracy settled into a spot on the wall of the bed, using a hay bale as a back rest. She motioned to Brianna. “How about you relax for a bit?”
“Not a chance.” The younger woman pouted. “They’re just waiting to get out of view before they shoot us in the head and dump our bodies in a ditch.”
“No, they aren’t.”
The truck jostled over the gravel drive and Brianna slid down to the floor to keep from falling out. She twisted her hands in her lap, reminding Tracy that she was only twenty. She looked up, the first hint of fear in her face. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because they want to scope out the farm first. They won’t kill us until we get them inside.”
Brianna snorted. “And here I thought you’d bought into their lies.”
Tracy shrugged. “I haven’t made up my mind. They could have killed us back at the hospital and dumped our bodies along with the rest of them in the morgue. But they didn’t.”
“You said it yourself, it’s so they can find out what we have.”
“Or else it’s because they thought we might be telling the truth.” She nodded up at the cab. “They have the vaccine. I watched Ben hand it to Daniel before we left.”
The truck bounced around a curve and Brianna slid into the middle. “If we can overpower them, we can take the vaccine and get home alone.”
Tracy shook her head. “Us against three guys who probably played football at UN Reno? We don’t stand a chance.” Tracy reached out and gave Brianna’s leg a pat. “For now, we play along. Convince your parents to let us in, give Madison the vaccine, and then—”
“All bets are off.”
“Exactly.” Tracy leaned back on the hay bale and closed her eyes. Every time she moved her left arm, shooting pain arced through her flesh to her fingers and up over her shoulder blade.
“You okay?”
She blinked her eyes open. “I will be once I know Madison is okay.”
“I meant your arm.”
Tracy smiled. “It’ll heal. How about you?” Tracy pointed at a goose egg on the side of Brianna’s head. “They hit you pretty hard to leave a lump like that.”
The younger woman reached up and patted the bruise, wincing as her fingers made contact. “I’ve had worse.”
The pair lapsed into silence, each worried about Madison, the safety of the Clifton compound, and what would happen if their escorts turned out not to be telling the truth. Tracy wished she had a weapon. It wouldn’t be a failsafe, but just having something to defend herself with would calm her nerves.
After half an hour, the truck slowed. Brianna leaned out and banged on the side of the door. The window rolled down. “Turn in, but don’t go more than twenty feet down the drive. I’ll have to walk the rest of the way on foot.”
Craig turned around to face her. “Not alone you won’t.”
The truck rumbled to a stop and Craig and John hopped out. Brianna followed. One look at his rifle and she palmed her hips. “My parents
see that and you’re dead before you even catch a glimpse of a single cabin.”
He glanced at Daniel. The other man handed over a pistol. Craig took it and set the rifle in the truck. “Fine, but no funny business. I can shoot you with a 9mm just as well.” He glanced up at Tracy and almost grinned. “Just ask her.”
Brianna strode forward and stamped on his foot. Craig jumped back, cursing and hopping as he grabbed his toes.
“Don’t be a dick. My parents will shoot you for that, too.” She took off, stomping down the gravel road and Tracy couldn’t help but laugh.
Daniel stared at the empty spot where Craig and Brianna used to be. “My brother’s got his hands full.” He glanced at Tracy. “Is she always like that?”
Tracy shook her head as she tried to breathe. “Most of the time, she’s worse.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
COLT
Unidentified Farm
Near Truckee, CA
3:00 p.m.
“Something’s going on. I can feel it.” Colt ran his hand over his hair and rolled his shoulders. The sweater they gave him itched like new wool.
Larkin sat at one of the desks, scooping peanut butter out of a jar. “They wouldn’t let us shower and feed us if they were planning on killing us. Relax.” He shoved a spoonful into his mouth and groaned. “I haven’t had Jif in years. I forgot how good it was.”
“Dani could be dead and you’re slobbering over peanut butter. Your priorities are seriously messed up.”
“She’s not dead. And if she is,” Larkin paused to lick a blob off his finger, “there’s nothing we can do about it. You should eat.”
“I should find a way to kill everyone in this place, is what I should do. Definitely not eat. For all you know, that jar is laced with poison. You could be foaming at the mouth in minutes.”
Larkin shrugged. “There are worse ways to go.”
“Jesus.” Colt sat down hard in the other desk chair. Larkin was right. They couldn’t do anything trapped inside a bunk room with an armed guard standing watch outside. If Dani was dead, then nothing else mattered. If she was still alive, he needed his strength to save her.
He held out his hand. “Pass me the jar.”
“Atta boy.” Larkin handed over the peanut butter and another spoon.
Colt took a bite and closed his eyes. It was damn good. He remembered how amazing food tasted whenever he returned home from missions years ago. After months in the desert, simple things like a piece of bread with butter could almost make him cry.
Larkin cleared his throat. “You need me to give you some privacy with that jar?”
Colt leaned back with a laugh. “Thanks for talking me off the ledge.”
“Don’t go getting all soft. I wanted you to eat, not give up.” Larkin stood up and carried his chair close enough to whisper. “You remember that gag we pulled at Walter Reed with the visiting nurse on the night shift?”
“The brunette with the legs for days?” Colt stared up at the ceiling. “What was her name?”
“Victoria.”
He grinned, remembering her face when she found out it was a false alarm. “I sure do. But what’s that got to do with anything?”
“I figure if it fools a nurse, it ought to fool a football player.”
Colt glanced at the door. “How are we going to disarm him?”
Larkin held up a pair of shoelaces tied together. “All we need is a few seconds.”
Colt clapped Larkin on the back. “It’s good to have you around.” He finished off the peanut butter and put the lid on the jar while Larkin moved his chair back into position.
It only took a few minutes to plan the attack. When they were ready, Larkin held one hand out in front of him. “I’ve got two pencils. Whoever is left with the shortest one has to be the victim.”
Colt plucked one.
Larkin opened his hand. “Aw, man. If I throw up, I’m aiming for your shoes.”
Colt walked over to the door and waited, doubled shoelace balled up in his fist.
Larkin sucked in a breath and crawled onto the floor. He clutched at his throat.
Colt banged on the door. “Help! Help! I think he’s choking!”
Larkin’s face turned red as he forced himself not to breathe.
Colt hit the door harder. “He’s going to die! Help!”
The door opened and the single guard eyed him warily.
Colt pointed at Larkin, now a violent shade of purple on the floor. “He’s choking!”
The guard rushed in and Colt followed close behind. “You know the Heimlich?”
Colt shook his head. “No! Can’t you do something? Look at him!”
Larkin’s eyes were bugging out of his face. If he didn’t breathe soon, he would pass out. Colt shouted louder. “Do something!”
The guard leaned over, arms outstretched, rifle dangling from his shoulder. It was the best chance Colt was going to get. He unfurled the shoelace and crowded up against his back.
As the man began to stand, Colt whipped the cord around his neck and yanked. He was outweighed by at least twenty pounds, but Colt had determination on his side. While Larkin sucked in oxygen, gasping like a fish on a dock, Colt tightened the cord.
The guard grunted and clawed at the shoelace, but Colt hung on. He counted in his head. Five. Six. Seven. If he had a good enough hold, the guy should pass out within fifteen seconds.
It took twenty. The guard sagged and Colt grabbed the rifle before letting the shoelace go.
Larkin eked out words between gulps of air. “D-Did you kill him?”
“I hope not.” Colt used the shoelace to tie the man’s wrists to the bunk bed’s post. The guy would wake up soon. He glanced at Larkin. “You okay?”
Larkin nodded. His face had almost returned to normal. He picked up the rifle and switched the safety off. “The nurse was easier.”
“We didn’t choke her.”
“Next time, it’s your turn.”
Colt grabbed his coat and hurried to the door. “Come on. He’ll wake up any second.” Most blood chokes lasted less than a minute. They didn’t have much time.
With Larkin following on his heels, Colt poked his head around the open door. The hall was empty. “Brianna must be in one of these rooms.”
Larkin held out the rifle. “I’ll stay here and look for Brianna. You go find Dani.”
Colt glanced at the gun. “You’ll be defenseless.”
Larkin tapped his head. “Not entirely. Now go.”
Colt nodded once and took off down the hall, away from the rec room and toward the antechamber he’d first entered the day before. Somewhere on the farm, Dani was locked away and he was determined to find her.
Chapter Twenty-Six
WALTER
Jacobson Family Farmhouse
Near Truckee, CA
3:00 p.m.
“Thank you for sending the vaccine to my daughter.” Walter leaned back and sipped the hot coffee Ben brewed moments before.
“You’re welcome.” He set his own mug on the table and leaned back. “I feel I owe you an apology. We should have listened when you said your family would come looking.” He ran a hand down his beard. “I honestly thought when we picked you up that you were delusional. Maybe had a bit of Alzheimer’s.”
“Do I look that old already?”
“You have a bit of the crazy old guy vibe, yeah.”
“Guess I should listen to my wife when she says I need a haircut.” Walter grew somber and leaned forward. “I’m sorry we met under these circumstances. It seems that we’re out for the same things.”
“To rebuild America.”
“And stay alive in the process.”
Ben held out his mug and Walter clinked his against it. The door behind Ben opened and a little girl of about eight rushed in, braids waving behind her and hood flopping against her back. She stopped beside Ben, panting and out of breath.
“Daddy! Daddy, I saw a dog in the field.”
Ben hug
ged his daughter before pointing at Walter. “We’re in the middle of a grown-up talk, sweetie. Can you tell me about it later?”
“But Daddy, I want to keep it.”
“Stray dogs are dangerous, you know that, Wendy.”
“Mr. Larkin says it’s his dog.” She pouted and stamped a foot. “But I want to keep it.”
Ben glanced at Walter. “What do you mean, Mr. Larkin?”
“I was coming here to tell you.” Jenny, Ben’s wife, walked in and nodded at Walter. “It seems we’ve had a bit of a jailbreak.”
Larkin eased in past the woman and Ben began to stand. Jenny waved him off. “It’s okay, Benjamin. We’ve talked. He’s a good man.”
Ben eased back down. “Is that so?”
Larkin scratched behind his ear. “Halfway decent, at least.”
Walter chuckled. “Don’t let his humility fool you. He’s saved my life more than once and we only met after the EMP.”
“Jenny tells me that you’ve sent Brianna and Tracy with the vaccine to the Cliftons’ place.”
“That’s right.”
Larkin nodded. “Good.”
Ben motioned to the bench. “With the crisis averted and my wife deeming you acceptable, come and sit. We can talk about next steps.”
Larkin scratched his head again and glanced behind him. “That’s just it. The crisis isn’t over. Not one hundred percent.”
Walter swallowed. “Let me guess.”
“Colt’s out there and he’s on a mission.”
Ben stood up. “Jenny, get Wendy and the rest of the kids inside.”
“But Daddy, what about the dog?”
“Not now, sweetie. Do what I said. Go to Mommy.” He gave his daughter a pat and reached for his pistol.
“Do you really think that’s necessary?”
“That man tried to kill me while on the ground and defenseless.” He checked the chamber. “I should be carrying a bazooka.” Ben turned to Larkin. “Where’s the last place you saw him?”