Jamansky’s death had shaken Carrie enough. What would happen when it was someone she loved, like Oliver Simmons?
On live television?
“What was that?” Zach said. He twisted around, trying to see out the back window.
“What?” Carrie said, turning.
Zach squinted. “I swear I just saw Braden Ziegler.”
“Braden?” Greg glanced in the mirror. Sure enough, a guy who looked a lot like Braden Ziegler had run into the middle of the road behind them, waving his arms over his head to get their attention.
Greg slammed on the brakes.
“Braden!” Zach yelled through the glass, waving uncontrollably. “It’s Braden!”
* * * * *
They were a tangle of arms.
Carrie couldn’t stop hugging Amber, and Amber couldn’t stop hugging her and Zach. They cried and laughed and cried even more. Their group stood off the road in the bright sunshine, soaking in the joy of each other. Carrie squeezed her one-footed sister again and nearly toppled over. Amber didn’t even complain. She just laughed along with the rest of them. Carrie could hardly believe it. She felt like she had experienced every emotion possible in the last twenty-four hours.
“I still don’t understand,” Greg said, staying close to their knot of hugging bodies. “Why’d they let Amber go?”
“Well…” Richard O’Brien put a hand on Ashlee Lyon’s shoulder. “She had the brilliant idea to draft a letter from Chief Jamansky on official Kane County letterhead. In it, Jamansky demanded that they release Amber to her father—me. Didn’t you put something in there about a long custody dispute?”
Ashlee Lyon smiled. “A great story, if I do say so. I never thought they’d fall for it, but…”
“They couldn’t wait to be rid of me!” Amber said happily.
Tears filled Carrie’s eyes all over again.
“Thank you, Ashlee,” she said. “Thank you to all of you. I…” She looked from person to person who had come to her family’s rescue. Unable to finish, she just laid her head on Amber and Zach’s, hugging them tightly again.
“If we hadn’t found that letterhead at Oliver’s house,” Braden said, “I don’t think Richard would have pulled it off.”
Greg turned. “Oliver’s house?”
“We stopped by Oliver and Ashlee’s houses to grab some things,” Richard explained. “Ashlee found the letterhead there. It worked perfectly.”
Carrie and Greg exchanged a look. He still looked shaken from the fight, his tan skin was pale, but he seemed to read her thoughts. They had only been blocks away from Oliver’s house, two small streets over. Carrie had seen Oliver and Ashlee’s homes on the maps. Maybe if she had tried to go there…
She pushed the thought away, too overjoyed to let a detail like that drag her down.
“I’m just relieved it actually worked,” Ashlee Lyon said. “If we would have known we were going to run into you, Carrie, we would have saved you some chocolate.”
“No, we wouldn’t have,” Amber quipped. “It was too good. Sorry, sis.”
Carrie laughed again.
Good old Amber was back.
“By the way,” Amber said, pulling back enough to look Carrie over, “nice shirt.”
Smiling, Carrie decided that Greg’s UNC shirt felt luckier than ever.
“Looks good on her, doesn’t it?” Greg said.
Carrie felt herself blush. Ashlee hadn’t noticed yet that Carrie was wearing her short shorts, but Ashlee was back in clothes that seemed better suited for her anyway. And her nails were painted bright red again. Everyone looked wonderfully alive and healthy.
“Zach,” Richard said, trying to see him through Carrie’s tight grip, “you should see the letter Ashlee wrote to get you out. It was another beauty.”
Zach straightened. “You were coming for me?” His voice rose three pitches. “For me?”
The group sobered.
Amber rubbed her brother’s mop of hair. “Of course. I didn’t want to go home without you. Are you…” Her beautiful, dark eyes filled. “Are you okay, little bro?”
Zach looked at Carrie. Carrie looked at Greg, none of them anxious to share their side of the story yet.
Finally, Zach nodded. “Yeah. I’m good.”
That brought a return of smiles.
Carrie couldn’t resist. In the happiness of the moment, she leaned close to Amber, the one person in the world who would care as much as she did, and whispered, “Greg asked me to marry him.”
The squeal Amber let out echoed off every tree. She threw her arms around Carrie and started dancing around, hopping one-footed. “Yay, yay, yay, yay, yay!”
Carrie laughed, trying to keep them both upright. Greg seemed to figure out the subject of the celebration and winked at Carrie.
“What is it?” Braden asked, curious.
“Carrie and Greg are engaged!” Amber announced happily.
With a cry of delight, the whole group circled them. Congratulations rang out. Zach joined Amber in jumping for joy, and Richard O’Brien clapped Greg on the shoulder.
“Well done,” Richard said to Greg. “Your mother would be pleased.”
Greg beamed at the comment, which made Carrie’s smile grow.
“I can’t believe you’re getting married,” Amber said, still celebrating. But when she tried to hug Carrie again, she tripped on her cast, nearly pulling them both down.
“And I can’t believe you walked that whole way,” Carrie said with a laugh. She took in their flushed, sunburned faces. “Your poor leg, Amber. You have to be dying.”
“Oh, she mastered the crutches pretty fast,” Braden said proudly. “We’ve been following the road home, careful to stay out of sight. But then Ashlee Lyon recognized Jamansky’s car and started freaking out.”
“You’re lucky, Greg,” Ashlee said. “I thought you were David. I was about to chuck a rock at you when I noticed you driving. So…” She eyed the bloody towel Greg held against his arm, looking not quite as thrilled as everyone else in the group. “How did you get Carrie and Zach, and why are you driving David’s car? Considering dried blood is trailing down your arm, I’m guessing you had a rough day.”
Jamansky.
In an instant, the joy dissipated.
Greg looked at Carrie, and they held each other’s gazes. The weight of the memory rushed back. His arm, cut and bleeding. He and Jamansky smashing into and over things until a few shots ended it all—ended David Jamansky.
Acid crawled up Carrie’s throat, thinking of the weight of Jamansky’s body on her, no longer moving, but suffocating her all the same. She swallowed. That could have been Greg.
Or her.
Or Zach.
“How about we discuss that on the ride home?” Greg said.
“Yes,” Carrie said. “We actually need to get going.” Because Oliver didn’t have time for them to stand around and celebrate.
“You mean we can ride the rest of the way?” Amber said.
Carrie hugged her sister again. “As long as you don’t mind squishing in.”
* * * * *
Oliver kept his head down in the back of the armored truck. His only comfort came from knowing that in a few hours, maybe longer if President Rigsby stretched out the drama, it would all be over.
Greg and Carrie—along with Zach—would be home soon.
They—along with Ashlee—would take down David Jamansky.
That was enough for Oliver.
He closed his eyes.
I’m ready.
fifty-six
THE CLAN HUDDLED AROUND THE patrol car in Ferris. Everyone was there, including Jeff Kovach, who Carrie hadn’t even been able to talk to yet. She was beyond relieved that Jeff had come back for his boys, but talking could come later.
Now they had to move.
Fast.
Greg kept glancing at his watch, and Carrie couldn’t help but do the same. Already it was after five o’clock, with time moving too swiftly.
&
nbsp; Ashlee Lyon had taken Jamansky’s death the hardest. Her eyes were still red and puffy from crying. The fact that he’d kept Carrie at his house made it worse. But as Ashlee heard about Oliver and where he was headed, her expression had turned to steel, feeling like Carrie felt. They had to do something.
Carrie recounted the phone message as clearly as she remembered. It helped that she’d heard it twice. A man named Cliff Watson from Central. Scheduling conflict. 7 p.m. As she spoke, Greg’s head bobbed up and down, nodding with each thing. She could practically see his mind planning, giving her hope that he had something that might work. His jaw, tight and confident, clenched when she finished.
“East gate?” Greg asked.
“Yes,” she said. “Jamansky was supposed to be there an hour before everything started.”
Greg glanced down at his watch. “Alrighty. I’ve got this. Wish me luck.”
He started to move off.
“Whoa,” Carrie said, snagging his good arm. “I’m coming, too. I told you I’m coming, Greg.”
“So am I,” Ashlee Lyon said, stepping forward. “No offense, Greg, but there’s no way you can do this on your own.”
“I agree,” Richard said. “I’d like to go as well.”
“Me, too,” Braden said.
Amber whirled around and stared at Braden. “Braden? Why you?”
Braden faced her, taking her hand. “This is our chance, Amber. If we can stop this, if we can help in any way, we can make things right for a lot of people, more than just Oliver.”
Carrie watched the torture in her little sister’s eyes. At one point, Braden had wanted to become a patrolman—not to hurt people, but to try to make things right from the inside out. To become another Oliver. In a way, Carrie understood his motivation. And honestly, the more people they had, the better.
Carrie nudged Amber. “I’ll keep an eye out for him.”
“As if you can,” Amber growled. “Then I’m coming, too.”
“With your broken leg?” Braden said. “No way. You’ll only slow us down.”
“Hold up, people,” Greg said, lifting a hand. “We only took one of Jamansky’s uniforms. I don’t need anybody to go with me.” He gave Carrie a look that said, Especially you. “If I can get to Isabel and McCormick in time, I might not even have to find Oliver. They might be able to take down President Rigsby, and the whole demonstration will dissolve before it starts. I’ll just grab Oliver in the mayhem and be back before dark.”
“And if not? What happens to Oliver?” Carrie said. Her insides tightened, and her voice dropped in volume. “What happens to you?”
Greg ran a hand over his thick, brown hair. “I know I gotta help Oliver—and I’ll do all I can to help him—but Carrie, McCormick might not know about the schedule change. If he doesn’t…” He blew out his breath. “We’ll never get a chance at Rigsby like this again. That man has killed thousands—no, millions—of Americans. He has to be stopped. I’ve gotta do what I can to help. If I don’t, there will be more Olivers out there. More Donnelles, Kendras, Jennas, and my mom.” He studied her, pleading for understanding. “I’ve gotta do the right thing. I’ve gotta warn McCormick.”
Possibly at the expense of losing Oliver. She could read between the lines.
“Okay,” she said even as her gut clenched. “I understand, and Oliver will, too. You need to find McCormick and tell him about the change. But you don’t have to do it alone. Let me help.”
“Us,” Ashlee Lyon said firmly. “Let us help.”
Greg’s jaw clenched again. “I don’t need help. Once I warn them, I’ll go after Oliver. You’ve got my word. Jamansky’s uniform will get me inside the facility, and that’ll be enough. But if I don’t go now, I might not make it in time. You have to let me go.”
Carrie saw the weariness in his eyes, his shoulders, and whole body, as if he carried the weight of the world on them.
“There’s not enough time,” she said. “You can’t do it all, Greg, but the great thing is that you don’t have to. Not anymore.”
She tried to reach for him, but he stepped back, dark brows lowering in anger.
“Look, Carrie, you’re either here in Ferris, where I know you’re safe, or by my side, where I can see you at all times. I’m not losin’ you again.”
“Ditto,” she shot back.
The two of them stared each other down in a faceoff of wills.
Ashlee Lyon stepped forward. “Then that settles it. You and Carrie stay together and warn McCormick of what’s happening while the rest of us split up. Richard and I have our citizenship cards. We’ll get Greg whatever he needs to get inside Naperville to Oliver. We’ll meet back in the middle and go from there.”
Greg hadn’t even looked at Ashlee. He was still glaring at Carrie, breaths coming too fast. “Not worth the risk.”
Nodding, Carrie took his hand. “You’re right. It’s not worth the risk of losing Oliver or the chance to end this madness. Choosing one over the other is unacceptable. It’s also not worth risking you going alone, so no one goes anywhere alone anymore.”
His eyes widened, perfectly understanding her meaning—and reference. Going alone to Shelton to get Amber and Zach’s citizenship had nearly cost her everything.
Before emotions could hijack her temporary bravado, she said, “Five of us fit in the car. That’s me, you, Braden, Richard, and Ashlee. So…am I driving, or are you?”
“Excuse me?” Greg said.
Carrie held out her hand. “Give me the keys.”
One eyebrow lifted. “You’re gettin’ a little sassy there, Miss Ashworth.”
Even though she hadn’t driven a car in six years, she held strong. “Yes, I am. Keys?”
With a slow smile, he shook his head. “Not a chance. Let’s go.”
* * * * *
Richard and Ashlee dropped the other three off near the place McCormick planned to gather with the rebels. Carrie prayed that all would go smoothly, that Richard would drive Ashlee Lyon without incident to the front gates of Naperville to get the special uniform for Greg—the guy who, hopefully, wouldn’t be joining the firing squad because they already had Oliver.
Leading the way, Greg held Carrie’s hand, pushing branches aside as they went. Braden followed. Carrie didn’t allow herself to think of everything that could go wrong. She forced herself to stay optimistic. This could work.
It had to.
She lifted their entwined hands enough to see Greg’s watch. Six o’clock. One hour until the president’s demonstration.
“I told McCormick and Kearney to hang west of the training grounds until it was time,” Greg said to the two of them. “The woods here are thick enough to hide a large group. If they took my advice, they should be right about…” He paused and pointed. “Look. See the colors?”
Squinting, Carrie saw what he did. “You found them?”
He looked less enthusiastic than she felt. Reaching up, he stroked her cheek, green eyes searching hers. “It’s not too late to back out. You can still go back to Ferris and wait this out with Amber and Zach.”
That had been the hardest part, saying goodbye to her siblings after being separated from them for so long. Amber had cried, which made May Trenton cry. Even Zach had cried, clinging to Carrie, which tore her apart. But her siblings were safe now. They would be taken care of, no matter what happened going forward.
Her thoughts raced over the plan: Ashlee and Richard were getting a special demonstration uniform for Greg while he, Carrie, and Braden warned McCormick and the rebels. Once those hurdles were cleared, Greg, posing as Chief Jamansky, would take in his three prisoners—Carrie, Ashlee, and Braden—and lead them to where Oliver was being held. Richard O’Brien would act as Greg’s assistant, wearing Jamansky’s everyday patrol uniform they’d stolen from his house. Between the five of them, they could do it. Strength in numbers. Once inside, once they found Oliver…well…they’d figure out what to do from there—or that was what she kept telling herself.
; So many things could go wrong, so many ways she could lose someone else.
Her gaze dropped to the bulge under Greg’s waistband where he’d hidden Jamansky’s gun. A shudder tore through her.
Squeezing Greg’s warm, strong hand, she forced a smile. “This is the easy part.” The safer part, she nearly added. “Let’s go find McCormick.”
The second they neared the camp, Carrie could tell people didn’t know about the change to Rigsby’s demonstration. Several rebels were lazily setting up tents for the night, laughing and talking as if they had all the time in the world.
“I didn’t know there would be so many of them,” Braden said.
Frowning, Greg surveyed the area. “This isn’t even half, which isn’t good. That means the rest are still comin’.”
Two men approached them, holding rifles.
“What do you want?” one asked.
“We’re here to see McCormick and Kearney,” Greg said. “And we don’t have time for the runaround, so just let us through.”
“Sure, sure,” the first one said. “What’s the password?”
“Password?” Greg snapped, growing angry. “How about this? Tell Commander McCormick that Greg Pierce is back.”
The rebel’s eyes widened. “Mr. Pierce? I…I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t recognize you at first. But now…yes, of course. I’ll show you where the leaders are.”
Carrie looked up at Greg in surprise. He seemed equally taken aback.
“That doesn’t usually work,” he whispered.
Carrie smiled. “I guess you have a reputation now.”
“Not a good one. These people have tried to kill me more than once.”
That wiped the smile from Carrie’s face.
As they started into the makeshift camp, she noticed people pointing at Greg. They knew who he was. Braden shot Carrie an impressed look.
Suddenly, a dark-haired woman broke through the group, running toward them full-speed.
Citizens of Logan Pond Box Set Page 128