The Oklahoma Wastelands Series Box Set | Books 1-3

by Mary, Kate L.

  “I’m okay. I was with Regan.” Ava sniffed back a few tears. “What about you?”

  “Fine now. I thought—” Brady let out a deep sigh of relief. “I’m just so glad to see you.”

  I stood behind them, scanning the worn and dirty crowd of people with my heart thumping erratically, the hope in my gut twisting a little more with each face that turned to greet me that didn’t belong to Kellan. Soon it felt like a rope had been tied around my insides and was being pulled tight. He wasn’t here.

  I focused on Brady. “Kellan?”

  “I never saw him.” The corners of his mouth turned down, and genuine regret shimmered in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  A sob threatened to break out of me, but I forced it to stay inside and turned to Matthew. “These are the only people you’ve found?”

  The older man nodded, his expression more sympathetic than it had been before. “There’s one more, but he’s in the infirmary. A broken ankle, we believe.”

  It wasn’t Kellan, I knew that because Brady had just told me, but that didn’t stop the hope from trying to break out of the tight web it was caught in.

  “It’s Logan,” Brady said before I could ask.

  Logan.

  I did my best not to appear as defeated by the news as I felt but doubted I was able to pull it off.

  There’s still a chance, I told myself. He could still be okay.

  I clung to that hope as I scanned the group of survivors, frowning at each unfamiliar face I saw. No Beth.

  “Beth?” I asked, looking at Brady once again.

  He shook his head, his brown eyes sad, but said nothing about the missing woman, instead saying, “Ash?”

  “He was with us.” Ava exhaled and her shoulders slumped. “A wave washed him overboard as we were trying to escape.”

  “He could be okay,” I said even as I shook my head, “but it isn’t likely. The water was so violent, and there was so much debris.”

  “It is unlikely.” Brady nodded in agreement, his expression grave. “I hope he died quickly.”

  Ava stood, leaving her hand on his shoulder. “Yes.”

  I couldn’t think about it, less because of Ash than because of Kellan, so I turned to Matthew. “Can we see our other friend?”

  The older man dipped his head. “Of course.”

  He turned without saying anything else, and I headed after him.

  Brady and Ava came as well, talking as they went, their voices low so no one else could hear them. Ava left her hand on his shoulder as they walked, and when he looked up at her, the relief in his eyes was stark.

  The jealousy swirling through me almost took my breath away.

  Outside what had once been a concession stand, Matthew stopped, motioning for me to go ahead of him. Inside, the space had been set up as a clinic, with cots lining one wall while tables of supplies were set up on the other. The letter board that used to serve as a menu still hung in its place of honor, only instead of listing junk food available for purchase, it now listed the people on duty, as well as the patients.

  I spotted Logan’s name before I caught sight of him at the far end of the room, sitting in bed with his leg propped up, his ankle resting on an old, ratty pillow that looked like it had been taken off a couch. Unlike Brady, he had been cleaned up a little. The way his hair stuck up in places told me he hadn’t showered, but someone had taken the time to wash his face and arms and give him clean clothes.

  Just the sight of them made my legs start to itch from the filthy fabric of my pants, and I found myself wiggling my toes, cringing when water sloshed between them.

  “Regan,” Logan said as I headed his way, and his gaze moved past me. “Ava.”

  “How are you doing?” I asked, lowering myself so I was sitting on the edge of his bed.

  His blue eyes focused on me, searching my face. I could see my own worry reflected in them and knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth.

  “Beth?” he asked instead of answering my question.

  “No, I’m sorry.” I shook my head and hissed in a deep breath when my gut clenched again. “We never saw her.”

  The breath he let out sounded slightly relieved, as if he was clinging to the old adage that no news was good news. While I hated to bring him down, I knew I had to tell him.

  “Ash, though…”

  Too bad the words wouldn’t come out.

  Logan’s eyebrows jumped up, and when I didn’t go on, his gaze moved past me, over to where Brady and Ava stood. “Is he with you?”

  “No,” I said, drawing his attention back to me. “I’m sorry, Logan. I don’t think Ash made it.”

  His shoulders sagged. “Damn.”

  I couldn’t say a thing.

  “They could still show up,” Brady said after a moment of silence. “It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours.”

  He was right. Ash showing up would be a long shot, but Kellan and Beth, and possibly others from the boat, could still be out there. I couldn’t give up hope yet.

  Turning to Matthew, I said, “Are your people still out patrolling the area?”

  “They are,” he replied with a nod.

  “Good.” I let out a long breath, trying to cling to the little bit of hope still swirling through me as I turned back to Logan. It wasn’t easy. “We’ll wait. It’s not like you don’t need the rest anyway.”

  He nodded but said nothing, and something about the expression on his face made it seem like he’d already given up.

  “Then what?” I asked, turning from Logan to Brady and Ava.

  Matthew was the one who answered me.

  “Now,” he said, drawing it out like he wanted to make it more suspenseful, “you’ll be matched with someone and married.”

  Like before, he was smiling.

  At the older man’s words, Logan’s head snapped up and some of the fire I was used to seeing in his expression returned.

  “Married?” Brady said just as I uttered, “Like hell.”

  “It’s God’s will that you were brought here.”

  Thanks to the open space and the multiple fires set up in the area, it was brighter here, and in this light Matthew’s expression looked even creepier than it had in the dark room I’d woken in.

  Brady looked at me, his eyebrows raised.

  “He believes God has called him to help repopulate the Earth,” I explained. “He wants Ava to marry Gideon.” I jerked my head toward the teen standing silently at Matthew’s back.

  The kid hadn’t said anything other than that one sentence, but he’d followed Matthew everywhere like an obedient dog. His silence was even creepier than the older man’s smile.

  “Is that so?” Brady pressed his lips together. I didn’t know him well, but I could see his brain working as he processed this information. When he looked back at Matthew he said, “Perhaps we could sit down and discuss the situation?”

  “You are her father?” The older man’s tone was unwavering.

  “I’m her guardian,” Brady said. “When her mother died, I took on the responsibility of raising her.”

  “And you believe your wishes for the girl should trump the will of God?” Matthew asked, an unmistakable challenge in his tone.

  Brady blinked three times, clearly unsure of how to proceed. “I find it difficult to believe it’s God’s will for a fifteen-year-old girl to be married to a stranger.”

  “The Lord works in mysterious ways,” Matthew said, lifting his hands and motioning around him. “Look at all we’ve been able to accomplish simply by being faithful. All of this was given to us by God because we were willing to follow His plan.”

  “I think,” Brady said, nearly choking on the words, “I would attribute your success more to hard work than to faithfulness. It isn’t as if all of this just showed up, now, is it? You went out and found the supplies to build this community. You worked the fields and built the homes.”

  “Have you no faith?” Matthew asked him.

  “There�
�s nothing wrong with a little faith as long as you’re willing to acknowledge the fact that you have to work for it. If you’d sat inside the stadium praying for God to drop food and supplies in your lap, you would have been a fool. But you weren’t. You prayed God would watch over you, then went out and got the things you needed. That’s a kind of faith I can get on board with.” His expression hardened. “The kind of faith that says you’re supposed to marry off a child without her consent, however, I cannot abide by.”

  Matthew’s smile faded, and he turned his gaze on me. “And what of you? Will you abide by God’s will and marry someone so you can help bring forth future generations?”

  He had to be kidding.

  “I can’t marry a stranger. Even if I didn’t have someone, which I do,” I said a silent prayer that I still did, “I wouldn’t be okay marrying someone I don’t know.”

  “This is a very troubling turn of events.” Matthew sucked in a deep breath, that creepy smile finally gone from his face, but in its place an expression that was even more unnerving. “I shall pray on it.”

  He turned his back on us, and I watched in stunned silence as he walked away. Gideon, for once, didn’t follow, but remained in the doorway. I didn’t like the way he was standing there. It was like he was a sentry who’d been ordered to keep an eye on us.

  My gaze met Brady’s, and his frown said the same thought had gone through his head.

  “What do you think he’s going to do?” I said, keeping my voice low.

  “Tough to say.” Brady shook his head. “He’s a zealot, so I wouldn’t put much past him.”

  “He can’t make you marry someone,” Logan said, looking at me and then at Ava.

  “Not just us,” I corrected him. “He doesn’t discriminate. He thinks everyone he saves should get married and start having babies right away.”

  “I don’t know if that makes him more or less dangerous,” Brady mumbled.

  “At least it makes him less of a sicko,” I muttered. “He could have been one of those weirdoes who has fifty wives because he thinks his seed is the only way to save the world.”

  I shuddered.

  “True.” Brady rubbed the stubble on his chin, thinking. “End of the world cults are pretty common these days, but this one is different than the others I’ve come across.”

  My curiosity momentarily overshadowed my concern, and I asked, “You’ve seen others?”

  “Several,” Brady replied with snort. “You know about The Church, of course?”

  “They worship Angus James,” I said, nodding. “We’ve seen a few members in Oklahoma. I don’t know how they survive the heat in those red robes, though. Sounds like torture.”

  “Well, anyone who worships Angus James can’t be very stable.” Brady’s lips twitched despite the uncertain situation.

  Ava elbowed him. “Be nice.”

  “You’re right, my dear.” He smiled up at her, a fatherly glint in his eyes. “Sometimes I forget the Angus we knew at the end. The one who decided to sacrifice himself for the world.”

  Ava returned his smile.

  “What else have you—” My words were cut off when Matthew swept back into the room.

  Two men came in behind him, and right away I recognized them as the men from the bridge. They weren’t masked this time, but that only made them twice as terrifying. Their expressions were as hard as the muscles flexing in their arms, their eyes as dark as they’d been when they cornered Ava and me only a short time ago. Regardless of what Matthew liked to think, these men weren’t here to help bring about the will of God.

  The man on the right, the one who’d carried the machetes, moved toward Ava, and like before, I stepped in front of her. He shoved me away, the gesture seeming to take very little effort, and I stumbled to the side. My leg banged into the bed, and I practically fell on top of Logan.

  He let out a gasp of pain even as he said, “What the hell is going on?”

  Ava yelped when the man grabbed her in his meaty grasp.

  “Stop,” Brady said.

  Like me, he was shoved aside. Only he fell to the ground.

  The other man, the one who’d tackled me, moved my way. I was still sprawled out across the bed when he grabbed me. This time I didn’t let him get me without putting up a fight.

  “Keep your hands off me.”

  I kicked at his shin, and my boot made contact, eliciting a grunt from the man.

  His hand tightened on my forearm and he twisted me around so my back was to him. He pulled my hands behind my back, and the rough fabric of a rope was twisted around my wrists. When he spun me around, I came face to face with a frowning Matthew.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked, still struggling but getting nowhere. “This is God’s will?”

  “You will comply with the will of God or you will be considered a heretic.” His gaze moved from me to Ava, then to Brady—who was still on the floor—and Logan.

  “If we don’t comply?” Logan asked. “What then?”

  “We need the faithful to work together to restore the human race. Those who prove themselves unworthy of this task are a blemish on the Earth and must be wiped out.”

  “You’ll kill us if we don’t marry someone?” Ava asked, her eyes wide.

  Matthew didn’t blink. “Only the faithful will survive judgment.”

  Judgment? I didn’t like the sound of that.

  18

  The man who’d tackled me on the bridge dragged me from the room, holding onto my arm in a grip that was no doubt meant to leave a mark and definitely would. Behind me, Ava fought while Brady yelled after us, but even when I looked over my shoulder, I couldn’t see where they were. The asshole at my back was blocking them from sight.

  We reached the stairs that led into the stadium, and his grip tightened even more. My feet stumbled over each other as we headed down, but thanks to the way he was holding me, I couldn’t fall. Not that I was grateful to him or anything.

  I couldn’t believe anyone went along with this insanity of Matthew’s. It couldn’t have been because they actually believed what he was saying, because it was just too crazy. Why, then? Fear? That was a very real possibility, I knew, because I was shaking in my soaking wet boots at the moment. Safety? Yes, this place was secure—there was no way the zombies could break through these walls. What else?

  Looking over my shoulder, my gaze met the gleaming eyes of my captor, and I shivered.

  Power. That was definitely the reason this gorilla of a man was going along with the crazy prophet who thought his purpose was to repopulate the Earth. I remembered the way the asshole had looked on the bridge as he lunged for me, and the words he’d uttered when he’d dragged me to my feet.

  “Told you that you’d regret cutting me,” he said as if reading my mind.

  “I only regret not cutting your throat,” I spit at him.

  His fist tightened on my arm, making my bones scream in agony, and I had to clamp my mouth shut to keep from crying out.

  “You won’t be so sassy after a few hours in the stocks.”

  Stocks?

  This place was getting weirder by the second.

  We reached the field, and I was dragged forward, past people and houses and fields of food. Nearly everyone looked away, some even pulling children into nearby homes and shutting the door, and I found myself wondering how many of them had taken the same trip when they first arrived here. How many had resisted the insanity only to give in after… What? I had no idea what to expect. A few days without food and water? Torture of some kind? It was impossible to guess just how twisted the leader of this crazy cult was.

  We reached the middle of the field, and a row of wooden stocks came into view. There were six of them. Six. What the hell was wrong with these people?

  More and more I tried to resist as I was dragged forward, but the man’s grip didn’t loosen, and no matter how much I twisted, I couldn’t get free.

  Other men appeared, moving past the one leading
me forward, and the center stock was opened seconds later. Once we were close, I was spun around so I was chest to chest with my captor. I jumped when cold hands brushed the skin above my wrists, but I still couldn’t move. The rope was loosened and unwound, then fell away, and I was forced to spin around once again. The whole time, the man holding me never let go, and he didn’t ease his grip until I was in front of the stocks, at which point my arms were set free only to be grabbed by the man on the other side. He pulled while the man behind me pushed, and my neck was suddenly pressed against wood. I wiggled, but couldn’t get free, and then the wooden plank was brought down, trapping my arms and head in place, and escape became utterly impossible.

  “Let go,” Ava said from somewhere to my right.

  I tried to twist so I could see her, but with my head locked in the stocks there was nothing I could do. A scuffling beside me said she was being put into a similar position, though.

  What about Brady? There was no way he could fit into one of these things; he was way too short. And Logan? His ankle was injured, maybe even broken.

  My head was down, my eyes trained on the ground—it was the only position that didn’t make me feel like I was choking—when someone stopped in front of me. Knowing it was Matthew, I lifted my head as much as I could, wincing when the wood dug into the back of my neck.

  “You will remain here until morning, at which time we will discuss the situation again,” he said.

  At least he wasn’t smiling this time. The scowl on his face wasn’t really a comfort, but it did make him seem slightly less insane.

  “What about the others?” I asked.

  “Your injured friend will remain in the infirmary, and the others have been brought here to consider God’s will and decide if they will answer the calling or be sent to judgment.”

  “Brady?” I tried to look to the left but couldn’t see much of anything beyond the wood holding me prisoner. “Are you there?”

  “Yes,” he said, his voice strained. “I’m here.”

  The wood dug into my neck when I turned my gaze back to Matthew, waiting for him to explain how he’d put the short man in the stocks.