by Payne, T. L.
“Where’d Jason head off to now?” Pete Ashby asked.
“He went to check on the kids,” Savanah said. “He’ll join us in a minute.”
“He’s still upset about his brother?” Blake asked.
Savanah nodded.
“That’s understandable,” Pete said.
Blake gave Pete a look Will couldn’t read. Did they know about the incident in town already?
“So, what now? Jason’s brother is gone, and Pete says the cousins moved back into town,” Mr. Bertrand said.
Will was taking it all in, trying his best to piece together what had occurred there. If Jason’s cousins had fled to Vincent, they weren’t there now. Tank, Troy, and the military had cleared the town.
“I say we should reach out to the residents of Sugar Hill and let them know that we don’t blame them,” Jane said. “We should see if we can work together—”
“Work together? Those kids would have killed my wife and me. They did kill people. Work together—with killers?” Mr. Bertrand was outraged.
“So what’s your suggestion? Are we to treat them all as enemies?” Jane asked. “We have to all live together.”
“Why? We can never trust them. They just need to be driven from the area,” Mr. Bertrand said.
“And how do you propose we are to do that? They have children. Small children. Do you really want them to be homeless?” Jane asked.
No one answered her. Will had no idea what the residents of Sugar Hill had done, but it appeared that their presence could pose a threat to his family.
“I feel like we should continue to be vigilant as if they were a threat, but take no further offensive measure unless they act aggressively,” Savanah said.
Everyone grew quiet.
Will studied their faces. Were they trying to convince themselves that the plan would work?
A moment later, Savanah stood and pushed her chair away from the table. “I hope you will all agree because the alternative is war.”
Will didn’t have enough information to know whether that was even a possibility, but from their hesitation, obviously, the others did.
“How many people are we talking about?” Will asked.
“Fifty or so,” Savanah said.
“When did this subdivision go up?”
“A couple of years ago. Some developers bought the farm and started advertising to rich folks in Lake Charles. I never dreamed that many families would want to live out here. There are plenty of golf courses in the city. The forty-minute a day commute would have been enough to deter me,” Savanah said.
“It was the price,” Pete said. “After that ole boy’s wife sued him for divorce, he had to lower the price on the lots to buy her out of his business.”
“That’s why they filled up so fast after sitting empty so long,” Savanah said, returning to her seat.
“And Jason’s family is involved, how?”
“They took over and were forcing the teens and young adults to steal for them.”
“And they're not there anymore?”
“Someone from town said that Valson and his right-hand man had been killed. The rest fled,” Blake said.
News had traveled fast.
Will knew that wasn’t going to be the end of the story. If there were any Blanchards left alive, they would want revenge. He stiffened. He needed to tell them what the soldier had told him. “I just got here, and I have no idea what this group has done, but I’d say if you can avoid a battle with them, you should try.” Will rubbed his hand over his abdomen. He’d seen enough fighting to last him a lifetime. Besides, they needed to reserve any ammunition they might still have for if the Chinese showed up.
“Do we put it to a vote or what?” Blake asked.
“All in favor of just keeping an eye on Sugar Hill for now and maintaining the roadblocks, raise your hand,” Pete said.
One by one, everyone raised a hand. Savanah smiled and turned toward the house.
“I’m going to spend some time with my brother and nephew, and then I’ll take my turn at the road.”
“I’ll go fill Luca in on the plan,” Jane said.
“Let’s get you guys inside to clean up. Mrs. B will have dinner ready soon,” Savanah said.
“Wait,” Isabella said. She turned to Will. “You should tell them.”
“Tell us what?” Blake asked.
Will eased back into his chair and looked up at his sister. “You’re going to want to sit down.”
They took it much better than Will anticipated. He had imagined crying and freaking out.
“After Will’s cousin used Monte, Cayden, and me as bait to draw them out, all hell broke loose. Earl, the tow truck guy, showed up and got us out of there. We were running for our lives when I heard the military coming. Remember that sound, Will? Remember that day on the bridge when we met Lieutenant Sharp?” Isabella said.
Will nodded. It was hard to forget the sound of miles of military trucks.
“I ran out in front of them and flagged them down. They said they’d help.”
“What was the military doing in Vincent?” Savanah asked.
“Looking for Chinese scouts.”
“We’re aware their scouts have been in the area. I just didn’t want to scare you your first day home.”
“You know, and you aren’t packing up?” Will asked.
“We have things in place. We have an agreement with the folks down near Choupique. If they see them, they’ll send word. We’ll have a little time to prepare. If it looks like there are more of the enemy than we can handle, we’ll bug out.”
“Savanah, they could drop bombs on us here if they wanted.”
“We’ll learn if there are significant forces in southwest Louisiana. Mr. B’s nephew has been running up and down the canal, letting us know their movements. So far, there have only been a few landing along the coast, and they are more interested in heading west than messing with us. Don’t worry, brother. We’re planning to be very cautious.”
“The waterways could be very useful. You all know them. They don’t,” Walker said.
“That is one of our advantages. We have a few,” Savanah said.
She took Will’s hand. “Now, let’s get you guys inside, fed, and cleaned up. You stink.”
Will laughed. “Gee, thanks.”
The house looked the same as the last time he’d been home, even though Savanah had lived there the last four years. Their grandmother’s afghan still draped the back of the dark brown sofa, and grandpa’s recliner was there next to it. The place had a different smell, though. Grandma was always cooking but now the home smelled like the herbal soaps his sister made. He liked it.
“Isabella, you can have my room, and Will, we’ll have to put you and Cayden out here in the living room on the air mattress.”
“No, I can’t take your room,” Isabella said.
“I insist. It’s just until we can figure something out.”
“Where are you and the kids going to sleep?” Will said.
“Upstairs in the attic.”
“No way. It’s hotter than Hades up there. You’d cook.”
Savanah appeared to think it over. “We could sleep in the outdoor kitchen. It would be like camping. The kids will love it.”
“Why don’t you and the kids sleep in here on the mattress, and Cayden and I will sleep out there. It will be much cooler anyway.” Will had been looking forward to sleeping in a comfortable bed, but he wasn’t about to let his sister and her kids sleep on the ground at their own place.
“We could bring the camper over. It sleeps six,” Mrs. B said.
“You have a camper?” Savanah asked.
“We do. We haven’t used it in years. It’s parked in the shed by the barn. It might need airing out, but it would be more comfortable than sleeping on the ground outside.”
“Bless you, Mrs. B,” Savanah said. “I’ll see if Jason will take the tractor and pull it over.”
“I can go with him,” Walk
er offered.
Will reached for her hand as she headed toward the door. “I can go. I wanted to have a conversation with Jason, anyway.”
Savanah put her hands on her hips. “You aren’t going to go all big brother on him, are you?”
Will cocked his head to the side and smiled. “Would I do that?”
Will heard the children’s laughter and stopped outside the barn. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. It was so good to be home again. He and Cayden weren’t alone anymore. It would be challenging, but he knew that all the adults gathered on the farm would do whatever it took to protect those kids. From one of the bedroom windows, Will heard Savanah and Isabella giggling like schoolgirls. It was strange. Despite the apocalypse that they found themselves in, he was happier and more complete than he had been in the last two years. Whatever they faced from there on out, he knew they’d take on as a family. There wasn’t anything on earth more important than family.
His conversation with Jason had been brief. It was evident to Will that Jason was grieving. He knew what that was like and didn’t want to be the source of any additional pain. He’d taken Karson and Cayden to pick up the Bertrands’ camper and left Jason to work things out in the barn.
Will slung his arms over the top of the gate overlooking the pond and stared out at the farm that had sustained his family for years. It would be tragic to have to leave there now. Savanah appeared to have the start of a strong community, and they could have a comfortable life there.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Isabella said, walking up behind him.
Will chuckled and turned to face her. “I don't think money is worth much anymore.”
“Are you glad to be home?”
“I'm glad to be with my family.” He reached over and took her hand. “I’m grateful that we all made it here alive.”
“Me too,” Isabella said as he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her waist.
“One thing that I’ve learned on this journey is to be grateful for what I have. The world may have gone to shit, but I have my son, we all made it safely here...” he paused and lifted her chin. “And a relationship with you, if you'll have me.”
Isabella raised herself on her tiptoes and kissed him. “I’m all yours, Will Fontenot.”
Thank you for purchasing No Turning Back, book three in the Fall of Houston series. The story continues in book four, No Surrender. Click here to pre-order your copy today.
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Sample Chapters
Turbulent: Days of Want, Book One
Chicago O’Hare International Airport
Chicago, Illinois
Day of Event
Terminal Three of Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport was filled with pissed-off passengers. After a four-hour delay, Maddison Langston was feeling cranky herself. Her flight from San Diego had arrived at eleven that morning. By three that afternoon, her connecting flight was still not boarding, even though the plane was at the gate.
When the lights in the terminal cut out and the flight departure screen went blank, Maddie sighed.
Looks like my flight will be delayed. Again.
Sitting in the dim light, Maddie pulled her cell phone from the Silent Pocket Faraday backpack Uncle Ryan had given her. Although she had promised him that she’d keep her phone in the bag while she was in the airport, she was having social media withdrawal. She was not as concerned about a thief scanning her RFID chips as he was.
She pulled the charging cord from the pack and started to plug it into an outlet before realizing that it wouldn't charge with the power off. Maddie tapped a social media app on her phone, but it wouldn't load. Her phone didn’t have a signal. After shutting it down and restarting it half a dozen times, it still wouldn’t connect to her wireless service provider.
To pass the time, she listened to songs from her music library. She usually listened to her favorite music using streaming services. Luckily, she had a few games on her phone.
Maddie looked up to see an angry man in a sport coat and trousers with one knee on the American Airlines service counter. The terrified woman behind the desk had her back pressed against the wall as far from the out-of-control passenger as possible.
Maddie pulled the earbuds from her ears.
Two men had gripped the arms of the angry man, who was yelling obscenities at the woman, as the woman yelled for security.
“Why can’t you tell us what the hell is going on? My flight was supposed to leave three hours ago. Now the lights are out, and it is freaking hot as hell in here,” another passenger yelled at the petite woman.
“I do not have anything to tell you. I am in the dark too,” she said.
“Oh, is that your attempt to lighten the mood? De-stress the situation? Did they teach you that in customer service school?” the man mocked.
“My cell phone isn’t working. I need to use a phone. I have to call my husband. He’ll be expecting us to arrive in Nashville any minute,” a woman called out.
A tall man in a sports jersey and jeans stepped forward. He towered over the other passengers. Holding an arm up, the man said, “Listen up, folks. All this yelling and getting aggressive with customer service isn’t going to get us answers that the woman clearly doesn’t have.”
“Well, someone sure as hell better start explaining pretty damn fast,” the man in the sport coat barked, shaking his arms loose from his captors.
“Look around you. It is a chaotic mess in here. It’s not just American Airlines’ flights that are delayed. No planes have taken off or landed here in over an hour. The power is out to the airport, and something has disrupted the phones, including cell phones.”
Just then, an explosion rattled the windows. The ear-piercing sound of metal on concrete was followed by the cockpit of a jet skidding down the runway. It hadn’t occurred to Maddie that planes might collide mid-air without access to tower control for guidance. People rushed from the shopping area of the terminal, dragging their wheeled bags behind them, and huddled near the window to stare at the burning wreckage of the plane on the tarmac.
Maddie slowly rose to her feet. Grabbing her backpack from its position beside her, she flipped it over her shoulder and reached for the extended handle on her suitcase. The terminal was in darkness, lit only by the windows where a surreal show of flames and black smoke was casting long shadows toward the center of the concourse.
As Maddie stared out the window with her mouth open wide at the flaming, smoking, twisted mass, a second Boeing 737 dropped from the sky in pieces, scattering onto the runway and bursting into flames. The lights were out, there was no cell service, and planes were colliding in the sky above them.
Maddie came to a startling realization. It had happened. The EMP—the electromagnetic pulse—her dad and Uncle Ryan talked about had really happened. Her hand shot up to cover her mouth. Maddie’s feet would not move, even though her brain said run.
She couldn’t catch her breath. While her fellow travelers stood with eyes peeled to the horrid sight and their mouths wide in shock and terror, Maddie ran.
Her bag’s wheels skipped
off the floor of the concourse as Maddie bolted toward a family restroom. Her backpack smacked the wall as she spun around to turn the lock. Maddie dropped her pack and suitcase by the door and slid to the cold tile floor. Hugging her knees to her chest, she sobbed, rocking side to side. Mixed with the crushing fear was a pang of guilt. She had mocked her dad for his paranoia. A wave of grief threatened to crash over her without mercy. As she cried, the years of repressed grief burst to the surface as she recalled the training and warnings her father had tried to communicate to her over the years.
Maddie hadn’t cried this much since the accident. The day her dad died. The day her world changed forever.
As the tears flowed in torrents, Maddie rested her head on her arms. She was startled by loud banging behind her. She jumped to her feet and spun to face the door, her heart pounding against her chest. In the blackness, she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. Maddie pulled her phone from her back pocket and activated its flashlight feature. Holding it over her head, she turned and looked around the small room.
I can’t stay in here forever.
How long before a plane came crashing through the terminal? How many were up there circling the airport? How many had diverted from their flight paths to land after they lost their navigation system and contact with the control tower? Pilots would only have line-of-sight to avoid a mid-air collision. How soon would it be before they ran out of fuel? Maddie's thoughts raced.
She had to get some place safe right now. That was what her dad always told her. The longer she hesitated, the more dangerous it would be.
Maddie stood and blew her nose. She bent over to reach for her pack.
She froze.
Maddie's heart dropped. She was stranded in one of the country’s busiest airports in the middle of one of the most populated cities. And she had never felt more alone.
Maddie turned and put her back to the door. She slid once more to the floor, curling her arms over her head.