Carrie never slept well on the night of the sweeps. No one did. More often than not, the patrol dogs woke them as they searched the homes. She made the mistake of lying next to Amber and her two friends, which meant she fell asleep to a lot of giggly whispers about Braden.
And Greg.
In the morning, Carrie was up and out of May’s house before most of the clan woke up. She worked hard to put her house back together, steering clear of Greg like the plague. She just had to learn Greg’s routine—or never leave her house. Either way she’d never have to see him again.
But it wasn’t until she carried her thirty plants inside that she realized something. Something horrible and devastating.
Her field.
Her garden.
Was in Greg’s backyard.
Planting was a month away. Greg would never put up with the endless hours she spent in the massive garden. No one loved it like she did. No one knew which corner had the least amount of sun or where each crop should be rotated next. She had even set aside a handful of extra seeds last year so she could experiment with raised beds. The field was the one place she could escape the world, and now it was guarded by a watchdog. A big, mean Rottweiler named Greg.
She stared at her plants.
There had to be another way.
The answer didn’t take long. For the first time, she had extra seeds. Maybe it was time to experiment in her own yard. Hopefully she’d get in a full round of peas before the patrolmen found them and ripped them out. Peas only needed sixty days to harvest anyway. Oliver would probably be scheduled for the sweeps that long.
Taking it a step further, she decided if she grew the peas inconspicuously enough, hiding them around her weeds, they might go unnoticed altogether.
She let the plan simmer long enough to know it was possible. Then she grabbed her sack of peas and ran outside.
thirteen
THE SUN BEAT DOWN ON CARRIE. Sweat beaded down the nape of her neck. She wiped her brow once, then twice, before taking a step back to admire her hard work. Large, yellow flowers popped out of the long rows of zucchini. The nearby cornstalks were waist-high even though it was only the end of March.
It was going to be a great year.
Her mom knelt in the dirt beside her, looking unaffected by the hot, penetrating rays. Her dark auburn hair—the same shade as Amber’s—blew softly in the breeze. Her skin glowed gold. Carrie didn’t know why, but she had the overwhelming urge to hug her mom. Instead she copied her stance, kneeling with her fingers sunk deeply in the soil.
“Dogs,” her mom said.
“Probably a pack of wild dogs,” Carrie said, hearing the same thing. “Seems like they’re everywhere lately.”
“Dogs,” her mom repeated, sitting back on her heels.
“Yeah, I hear them. Weird.” The barking grew louder by the second. Carrie searched the long rows of vegetables. “Where do you think they are?”
“Carrie! Dogs!” Her mom’s voice rose in pitch, eerily resembling Amber’s, only scared to death.
An awareness hit Carrie. Something wasn’t right.
The field began to dissipate, followed by her mom as Carrie questioned their existence.
“Carrie!” Amber screamed over her. “Wake! UP!”
Carrie’s eyes flew open in her pitch-black room. Surrounding her were three distinct sounds: Amber yelling, Zach chanting “Dogs,” and the undeniable sound of barking over it all. None of it made sense. Until she combined the three. Then she bolted upright.
“What day is it?” she asked.
Before Amber answered, Carrie determined the irrelevance. It didn’t matter what day it was. Patrolmen were searching their neighborhood, and they were in serious trouble.
It only took a millisecond to know what had to happen.
Carrie flung off her blanket. “We have to get to May’s. Now!”
Foregoing shoes, coats, and everything, Carrie grabbed her siblings and ran for the hall. She felt her way along the black wall and crept blindly down the stairs. Amber and Zach cried hysterically as she pulled them toward the front window.
Holding her breath, she peeked outside. It was a dark night with soft rain dampening all sound but the distant barking. She couldn’t see anything past a few houses. Not a single patrolman. Not a single crazed dog. All the homes were black as the barking grew in sound and fury.
Her heart stopped. Kovachs…Zieglers…Watsons…
NO!
How many people would they lose tonight? How many were sleeping through the government sweep like she almost had? Which clansmen were going to wake up in handcuffs? Jenna? Sasha? Little Jeffrey?
This can’t be happening!
Carrie scanned her neighborhood. I have to help them. I have to warn them or something. I have to—
Amber’s nails dug into her arm. She and Zach were crying, petrified. Right then and there, Carrie knew she had priorities. Her siblings came first. Over everything and everyone.
Even the clan.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered to the dark houses. Then she backed away from the window. “Alright, you guys. Let’s go.”
Zach reached for the front door, but Carrie grabbed his hand. “Not that way. Out back, through the woods.”
The three of them clambered across the living room into the black kitchen where Carrie stopped for a second time. Pulse thundering, she perched up to the deck door and strained to listen, praying it was just a pack of wild dogs.
They had learned the hard way that patrol dogs had a pattern to their barking: loud, muffled, loud, then muffled, as they searched house after house for squatters. Right now, the barking was definitely loud, and from the sound of it, only two or three houses away.
“We can’t go outside!” Amber shrieked. “The dogs will find us. The dogs will find us, and they’ll kill us. We’ll never make it.”
That got Zach going. “We’re gonna die. We’re gonna die. We’re gonna—”
“Enough!” Carrie snapped. “We just need to get to May’s, and then we’ll be safe. We can do this. We just have to make a run for it. Not another word until we’re safely inside. Not even a whisper.”
They clamped their mouths shut.
Carrie plastered her ear to the door again. The barking became muted in the next unsuspecting home. Patrol dogs. No doubt now. Refusing to calculate whose home they were raiding, she silently slid open the deck door.
Her senses tested the night for danger.
The rain dampened the sounds, leaving nothing but barking dogs and her siblings’ ragged breathing. But everything else told her they had a small window of opportunity. Frantic, Carrie clutched Amber and Zach’s hands.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Follow me.”
Carrie and Zach slipped out onto the wet deck, but not Amber. She remained stuck, paralyzed in the kitchen. Carrie yanked on her hand again. She might as well have pulled on a two-ton boulder.
“I can’t do it, Carrie,” Amber whispered in a strangled sob. “We’ll never make it in time.”
“Amber,” Carrie begged, “if we don’t get to May’s right now, I’ll be thrown in prison and I’ll never see you again. You and Zach will be wards of the state. Do you understand? We have to go, and we have to go now!”
The second time Carrie yanked hard, forcing Amber onto the rain-soaked deck. They crept down the wet deck stairs and along the hedge that lined their dark yard.
At the black corner, Carrie pulled them to a stop and pushed the freezing rain from her eyes. The barking was harder to hear than before. She hoped that meant the patrolmen were farther away than she originally thought. That gave her a moment to work on the next step.
The next house was fifty feet away at least. She was tempted to sneak through the patch of trees near the pond, but that would take time. With the dogs inside one of the homes, she hoped they had a minute of safety.
Shivering, her grip tightened on Zach and Amber’s wet hands. Then she took off, sprinting across the lawn. The slick g
rass was ice on their bare feet, but it only took seconds to clear the distance and slide behind the corner of the next home.
The three of them doubled over to catch their breath.
One more house, though twice as far, and then a mad dash across the street to May’s. Carrie’s best guess was the patrolmen had started their search in the front of the sub, which meant they were coming toward them, and not—
A loud crash pierced the air.
Amber screamed. So did Zach. Carrie’s hands flew over both mouths, eyes yelling at them to stay quiet. The crash was several houses away and that was good news. If they were going to beat the patrolmen, they had to go, and they had to go fast.
“Stay close,” she mouthed. “Don’t stop.”
Amber swallowed. Zach nodded through his tears.
“One…two…” And before Carrie got to three, she yanked them away from the brick.
They flew across the wet grass.
Halfway to the next home, something changed. In the space of a heartbeat, the pattern switched. It sounded like someone shoved a microphone in front of the dogs. Their furious howls echoed off every brick in the neighborhood. But she heard more than dogs, too. Patrolmen. Shouting orders.
Carrie slid to a stop. The next house was too far. Too far! They’d never make it. She flipped the three of them around and sprinted back to the vacant house.
Taking in shallow pants of damp air, they molded themselves to the brick, waiting and praying their silhouettes would be hidden in the dark night. Until it occurred to her: dogs don’t need sight to find traitors. The three of them struggling to catch a breath was more than loud enough to give them away. Let alone their smell and…
A wave of dizziness overtook her.
Carrie closed her eyes, waiting for fate to decide their lives. The dogs were growing louder by the second. Barking. Patrolmen shouting.
Amber’s crying soon overtook the other sounds.
Carrie whirled on her. “Amber! Pull it together!”
Her sister threw both hands over her mouth.
Carrie spent the next terrifying minute listing the names of people she hoped were already tucked away at May’s: Jenna, Braden, Sasha. People who shouldn’t have to spend the rest of their lives in prison like she was about to. Especially the kids. They didn’t deserve to grow up in a prison of their own, raised on government propaganda.
Maddie. Lindsey.
Rain poured down her face.
Little Jeffrey and Jonah.
Her hands shook uncontrollably.
Amber.
Her insides shook as well.
Zach.
The list was just long enough for the pattern to change. The barking quieted as the patrolmen charged the next house. The Dixon’s, if she calculated correctly. Carrie didn’t have time to worry about Terrell, Jada, or their four kids. She pushed her mop of wet hair out of her eyes. They had another chance. Probably their last. Only this time they would be running toward the patrolmen. Not away.
Amber started to pull free, but Carrie held tight. They could do this. They had to. In another minute, the dogs would be to the empty house they crouched behind.
Offering one last prayer, Carrie bolted for the third time, dragging her siblings behind her. She didn’t stop at the row of bushes like she wanted to. She didn’t slink against the next wall to let them catch their breath. Her legs were burning, her lungs spent, but she forced her small family on, flying through the rain and onto the wet sidewalk.
As their bare feet hit the sleek pavement of Denton Trail, Carrie glanced over her shoulder. There was nothing to see. No dogs. No patrolmen.
She and her siblings grazed the last bit of wet cement, crossed the Trenton’s lawn, and flew through May’s already-open door.
fourteen
“CARRIE! WHAT IS going on? Carrie!”
Carrie ignored the furious questions being hurled at her and turned to Amber. “Take Zach to the basement and don’t come up until I tell you.”
Still hysterical, Amber tugged on her brother and they disappeared.
“Carrie!” Dylan shouted again. “What the—”
“Not now!” CJ yelled. “Get everyone safe first.”
Everyone.
Carrie scanned May’s front room. Mariah held up the only source of light, a solitary candle. Carrie started counting heads. Five, ten, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen! Her stomach lurched. Barely half the clan. Half! Some were in the basement, but half?
“Who’s missing?” she demanded breathlessly.
“Carrie?” May’s voice screeched across the room. “Carrie? Where’s my Carrie!”
Carrie waved a hand in the air. “Here, May.” Then she turned back to CJ. “Who’s still missing?”
“Kovachs,” CJ said. “Plus Elena’s family and Richard O’Brien.”
Eight people.
Elena and her two grandkids lived next door to the Trentons, in the opposite direction of the patrolmen. Richard was the independent type and had probably holed up somewhere on his own. But Jeff and Jenna Kovach lived at the end of the cul-de-sac. Seven long houses away. With Jenna’s present condition, the rain, and two little boys to carry, it might as well have been seven miles.
An image of Little Jeffrey being ripped from his parents hurled Carrie into action. She grabbed Dylan’s sleeve.
“We have to get Jeff’s family,” Carrie said, still huffing. “If we cut through the woods, we could—”
“You’re not going anywhere!” May shrieked.
At the same time May went off, someone yanked Carrie’s arm in the other direction. She turned and saw Amber still upstairs and still hysterical.
“Amber, I told you to get—”
“I can’t find Braden!” Amber said. “He’s not here, Carrie. What if he got caught? What if he’s gone? What if they shot him and he’s dead and—”
“Amber!” Carrie shouted. “Go. Downstairs. NOW!”
CJ laid a hand on their shoulders. “Braden and his dad left to find you three. You didn’t see them?”
“See!” Amber wailed.
“We went the back way,” Carrie said.
“You probably just missed them,” CJ said. “Now that you’re here, I’m sure they’ll be here soon. And Greg and Terrell are getting Jeff’s family.” His eyes traveled to the window. “Let’s hope they’re already headed back.”
“Richard’s here!” Mariah called out.
That left seven people. If Greg and Terrell were getting Kovachs then…
“What about Elena? Why aren’t they here yet?” Carrie’s hands flew to her mouth, as she answered her own question. “The rain. It makes it hard to hear the dogs. Elena might still be asleep. We have to get her.”
“No, you can’t go!” May cried. “CJ, tell her she can’t go. Dylan, you go help Elena.”
The back door burst open. Braden and his dad flew inside with the entire Kovach family. Braden held Jonah football style, and the toddler’s frantic sobs blended into the pandemonium. Jeff clutched his namesake—or more accurately, Little Jeffrey held his father’s neck in a death grip. Braden’s dad had an arm around Jenna to help her inside. They were all drenched with rain.
Carrie pushed through the dark room. She pried Jonah off Braden only to have Amber take Jonah’s spot, throwing her arms around Braden.
The toddler was beside himself. He flailed his frozen, wet body in every possible direction. Carrie struggled to keep hold of him. Instead of fighting him, she helped Jenna to the nearest chair and set Jonah on his mom’s lap. Then Carrie went to the two Jeffs.
She held out her hands.
Little Jeffrey didn’t say a word, but he climbed off his father and clung to Carrie instead, choking the air from her throat. He was shivering. She was, too, and squeezed him tighter.
“Where are Greg and Terrell?” she heard CJ ask. “I thought they were getting your family. Are they okay?”
Jeff leaned against the wall, sucking in deep breaths. “They got us here but… kept goi
ng to Elena’s. The patrolmen are heading…back of sub. Should be fine.”
CJ heaved a sigh of relief, along with the rest of the room. “Okay. Let’s do another head count.”
Carrie clutched Jeffrey’s wet, shaking body. Everyone’s okay. Everyone’s safe, she told herself. She scanned face after face in the dim candlelight.
Weaving through the bedlam, she peeked out May’s front curtain. Patrolmen couldn’t search yellow cardholder’s homes without a search warrant anymore. Too many lawsuits from tax-paying citizens sick of having their lives turned upside-down month after month. Trenton’s home should be safe, which was good considering the chaos inside.
What happened? she finally allowed herself to ask.
The dogs were harder to hear, but something at the end of the cul-de-sac caught her eye. A bright orange glow, growing by the second.
Fire.
It had been years since Carrie had seen a fire like that—five years to be exact. The patrolmen were burning their things. Not their homes—thankfully not the homes—but all the things people hadn’t grabbed and the patrolmen hadn’t hoarded for themselves were being dumped into the growing bonfire. A fire like that shouldn’t have been possible in the storm, but then again, nothing from tonight should have.
Carrie shut the curtains, unable to process anymore.
“Dogs,” Little Jeffrey whimpered in her arms. “Bad dogs.”
“I know, but you’re safe now.” She squeezed him close. “Everyone is safe, and that’s all that matters.”
For several minutes, they stayed clinging to each other. But as Carrie’s breathing slowed, her mind sped up. Why were the patrolmen there a day after the other sweep? A double sweep? If so, why hadn’t Oliver warned them? They already lived on so little, how would they survive now? She couldn’t make sense of anything. Too many questions. Not enough answers.
The only comfort came when Greg and Terrell Dixon flew in the back door with Elena and her two grandkids. All thirty-six people were safe, in part thanks to Greg. From the stories Carrie was hearing, Jeff and Jenna had been sound asleep when Greg and Terrell burst into their house. Even Terrell had been asleep when Greg burst into his bedroom.
Citizens of Logan Pond Box Set Page 10