“I also can’t shoot him in cold blood,” Garrett said simply. He glanced up at Manny, then Ben, and then Greyson. “Can any of you? Can any of you discount the possibility that he might be doing exactly what he says he’s doing, and escaping? Could you blame him if he was, after we’ve all had the same thought? Can you guarantee that he’s on the wrong side of this fight? Can you take his life, sure that you’re doing the right thing?”
Three scowling faces stared back at him, but then gazes started sliding to the left and the right, and Garrett knew he had his answer. These men might not be happy with this decision, but they could see the sense in it. They couldn’t kill Lance. Not without knowing for sure that he was still working for Kraken. If there was even a chance that he was innocent, they had to let him go.
Anything less would make them no better than those bikers.
Chapter 6
Garrett walked through the line of people, adjusting a person’s aim here, drawing their shoulders back there, straightening an elbow, tipping a head, and generally giving them all better form as they aimed at the row of targets in the distance.
“All my life shooting, and I never thought I’d have to teach anyone else about it,” he murmured to Alice, who was walking next to him.
She breathed out a laugh. “Needs must, I guess?”
And that was about it, he knew. Needs must, indeed. After Lance had come around, Garrett had started thinking about how vulnerable they all were, sitting out here in the desert without any reliable backup. The thing they did have was plenty of weapons. It seemed they’d found them in almost every town they’d ransacked. Personal armories in houses, entire aisles of weapons in the stores, rack after rack of guns in police departments.
He’d have thought those would be the first things people would have grabbed after the EMPs hit and the entire world went to hell, but evidently everyone had been more concerned about food and water than protection. They also had grenades and some explosives, sure, but more importantly, they had a range of handguns and rifles—some of them military-level sniper rifles. It had taken Manny and Ben precisely thirty seconds to identify them all and start telling him what they were good for, and they’d grabbed everything they could fit into the truck or their pockets during every raid where they found them.
Now, with the barricades built and the defenses set, Garrett was making sure that his people knew how to use those guns. Because they were next to useless sitting in an underground armory. In the hands of the people, though, they just might be the thing that decided any battle.
He got to the end of the line and found Elisa there, wearing pants and a leather vest that looked like she’d stolen it out of some Wild West show. She was holding a handgun up in front of her, and shaking so badly that she’d be more likely to hit the sand in front of her feet than the target. That sort of nervousness could put others at risk, too—not just herself.
Pursing his lips, Garrett stepped up behind her and stretched his arms out right next to hers, covering her hands with his. He held as still as possible, quieting the shaking in Elisa’s body, but felt her stiffen at his proximity. Well, stiff was better than shaking, and maybe it would give her a better shot at figuring out the right posture.
“Relax,” he said quietly in her ear. “You want your elbows locked and your arms straight and strong.” He stretched their arms forward a bit more, locking his elbows in demonstration. “But keep your hands as relaxed as they can be. Too tense, and you’ll jerk the gun when you fire it and miss your target. Jerk it too much and you might just hit a friend instead of an enemy.”
“I’ve never been any good with guns,” she told him, her voice quavering. “I don’t know how smart it is to give me one.”
“You’ll do fine,” he assured her. “And I want everyone here to be able to defend themselves if it comes down to it. It will also help us out if everyone can fight. The bikers will never see that coming. They’ll never think a little bitty thing like you might be deadly to them. And that, Elisa, will be the death of them. Right?”
He felt the quiver of her laughter, though she didn’t give it enough air to make it out of her mouth.
“Right,” she said instead. “They’ll never see me coming. Now if only I can hit them.”
He took a deep breath then blew it out, getting ready to try to communicate what it was to shoot a gun. It was surprising that a woman who had lived out in the wilderness like this didn’t know, and had never been hunting, but then again he’d known Elisa for several months and felt comfortable saying that she was the sort of woman who would rather defeat you with brain over brawn.
“Straighten your arms, but only so far as is comfortable,” he said, demonstrating. “Keep your wrists tense. Relax your hands. Look down the nose of the gun and try to cover your target with the nose so that you’re shooting straight. Then…” He nudged her hands just a bit to the left. “When you pull the trigger, you’ll almost inevitably pull the gun in that direction. If you account for that when you’re aiming, you’ve got a better chance of pulling the gun and still hitting your target. See what I mean?”
“Makes sense,” she breathed, as still as a rabbit in the crosshairs.
“And now,” he said, removing his hands and leaving hers in the exact position. “You fire. But don’t yank on the trigger. Just squeeze. Like you’re working a spray gun, only…”
“Deadlier,” she finished, and he could hear the smile in her voice.
“Definitely deadlier,” he agreed, grinning. “But also firmer. Metal is harder to move than plastic. So you’ve got to be more decided about it.”
There was a pause as she digested that information, and then, “Now?”
“Now,” he said.
He felt her shoulders move up in front of him, saw the gun waver just a bit, then grow steady, and a moment later she squeezed the trigger.
The flash blinded him, but he stepped back from her and took a few steps toward the makeshift target—plywood painted with some spare orange paint they’d found in the garage. When he could make the target out again, he whooped in excitement and swept her up in a hug, too elated at the progress—at something good happening—to stop himself.
“Bull’s-eye!” he shouted. “And on your first try! Elisa, if I didn’t know any better I would say you’ve done this before. It looks to me like you’re a natural.”
She gave him a crooked grin. “I definitely want to practice more to make sure that wasn’t just beginner’s luck. But you’re right. It will feel good when they underestimate me. Because I’ll be able to prove them wrong.”
She turned back to the target and lifted her hands again, taking herself through the steps on her own this time—and shooting a second bull’s-eye—and Garrett turned to walk back down the line, still grinning to himself. When he looked up, he saw Alice staring at him, then looking pointedly at Elisa, and then back at him, one eyebrow lifted in question.
He shrugged his shoulders, not caring to think about that too closely. No matter what Alice thought she’d seen, this was nothing more than him teaching his people how to defend themselves—and each other—if and when those bikers showed up. Thinking about anything beyond that was…
Well, at this point, it felt like a waste of energy. There were too many other things to worry about right now.
Chapter 7
Garrett was walking quickly through town, his blood still singing at the success of the shooting class, when he heard the voices.
It wasn’t that no one should be talking in town. It wasn’t that it was uncommon to hear voices. It was the fact that voices being used as weapons sounded different than voices being used for just casual communication. And something about the voices he was hearing right now told him very definitely that they accompanied some very unpleasant physical actions.
He drew to a stop and narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out where the voices—male, and aggressive, in a suggestive, teasing sort of way—were coming from. There, he thought, his eyes goi
ng to the alley across the street. He hadn’t drawn parallel with it yet and couldn’t see down it, but someone had someone else in that alley, and whatever they were saying, he was betting they weren’t talking about the weather.
He crept toward the alley, cutting diagonally across the street so he could approach along the wall that connected to the small street. This wasn’t a well-traveled part of town, so there was no one else on the sidewalks. In any other city—in the world as it was before—it would have made this part of town ideal for any sort of underhanded activities.
But they were also living in a very small community, where everyone knew everyone else. The thought of anyone doing anything offensive or damaging to another resident was… beyond his ability to understand. It didn’t make any sense.
And there was absolutely no mistaking the sound of those voices in the alley—or the fact that he now heard a woman as well, pleading with them.
He stopped before rounding the corner, his heart racing, his eyes narrowed as he tried to decipher what was going on. Many of the town members had been at the shooting practice with him, and he’d seen the majority of them heading for the schoolhouse to get water and a snack, laughing as they walked and sharing tips and congratulations, as well as guesses for who might be the best shot. Whoever was here, he didn’t think they could have been at that practice. They wouldn’t have had time to get here far enough ahead of him to have set themselves up in the alley.
And there were only a certain number of people who hadn’t taken part in the practice.
When another man spoke from inside the alley, Garrett already had a list of suspects, and it made recognizing the voice much easier.
“Saw you out there shooting, little lady. Sure looks like you know what you’re doing,” Steve was saying, the oil practically dripping off each syllable.
Garrett’s fists clenched. So they did have a woman in there. He started filing through the women who had been present at the shooting practice, making a list. He wanted to know exactly who he was going to be dealing with when he came around that corner.
“And that’s absolutely none of your business, Steve Thomason,” a female voice answered sharply. Elisa, Garrett realized, his jaw clenching. “And I’ll thank you to kindly step away from me and leave me the hell alone. I don’t know what you think you’re playing at, but if Garrett catches you fooling—”
“Garrett,” Steve snarled. “That man wouldn’t know what to do about it even if he did know what I was doing. Walking around with his idealistic sayings, pretending like he’s got a handle on things. Why, if I was in charge, none of this would be happening. Then again, you’ve always had a sweet spot for him, haven’t you?”
There was a squeal from Elisa and some low male laughter, and at that, Garrett had had enough. He strolled casually around the corner as if he’d happened upon them by mistake and came to a surprised stop at the mouth of the alley.
It wasn’t just Steve. He was there with his faithful sidekicks, Alan and Scott. And the three of them had Elisa backed up against the wall. Her face was flushed and her eyes wet, but Garrett could see that she was doing her best to hold her own. She wasn’t panicking.
Though she would have had every right to.
“Why Steve,” Garrett said in false shock. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going to be at the schoolhouse cataloging the supplies and giving us an idea of what we had left, and how long it would last.”
He moved casually toward the threesome, taking in the fact that Alan and Scott now had their eyes averted and were slowly edging away from Elisa. No doubt trying to pretend that they hadn’t had anything to do with it.
Steve bared his teeth in something that was probably meant to be a smile. “Already finished,” he muttered. “Left the list in the schoolhouse. Guess I’m faster at that sort of work than you must expect people to be. As it happens, I went out to the little shooting range you built. Figured I’d see what you lot were up to.” He placed a hand on the wall behind Elisa and leaned on it, drawing closer to the woman and leering back at Garrett. “Looked like you and this one were getting awfully close.”
And there it was, Garrett realized. It wasn’t that Steve had anything against Elisa. After all, they’d been living in the same town for some time—had probably even known each other before they knew Garrett. It wasn’t about her at all.
It was about Garrett having paid special attention to her. And Steve taking that personally. Or seeing a way to try to get under Garrett’s skin.
“Just teaching her to shoot, Steve,” he said, keeping his voice even. Trying to keep the anger out of his tone. In his pockets, his hands were curling into fists, and he could feel the tension running through his shoulders already.
His body knew what was coming. His mind had been expecting it for some time.
“I suggest you move away from her now,” Garrett continued. “The way you’re standing over her is making me think you mean her harm. We haven’t had any trouble in this town, and I’m not aiming to start now.”
Steve reached out with his other hand and ran his fingers down Elisa’s arm.
“Maybe that ain’t your choice,” he said snidely. “You don’t always get a say in what happens in this town, Garrett. I know you think you do. But I also know that there are quite a few who disagree with you being leader. Quite a few who would be happy to see me taking over.”
Garrett, at the end of his patience, didn’t care to hear anything more from the man. He was already moving forward, his hands reaching out to grab Steve and get him away from Elisa, when Elisa, in a lightning-quick move, grabbed something out of the pocket of her pants and held it up in front of her.
The gun, Garrett saw, surprised. The one she’d been practicing with. She’d still been carrying it—and its nose was now pressed against Steve’s chest.
“And I say that no one is actually in favor of you taking over, Steve, and you’d better just shut your mouth before you say anything else to make yourself look stupid,” she hissed. “And while you’re at it, I would also recommend taking three steps back.” She cast her gaze at Scott and Alan, who had frozen at the sight of the gun. “You lot as well. I know you do whatever he tells you, but I’ve just had quite a lesson in shooting and I’m not afraid to put my new skill to the test. Don’t tempt me.”
Her gaze moved back to Steve’s face—as did Garrett’s—and he could see the man’s complexion draining of color, his eyes shifting quickly back and forth. Whatever he’d been expecting in this alley, it certainly hadn’t included Elisa drawing a weapon on him.
“Look, Elisa, we didn’t mean any harm,” he said, stepping backward. “We just wanted to talk, see? I know you’re one of Garrett’s special friends and I thought you could talk some sense into him. That’s all it was. You believe me, don’t you? You’ve known me a long time. You know I would never do anything to hurt you. Or anyone else.” He kept backing up until he came to the wall on the other side of the alley, where he came to an abrupt stop, and quit talking.
She looked him coolly up and down. “You’re right, Steve. I have known you for a long time. And that means I know you well enough to know that you’re exactly the sort of person who would hurt others if you thought you would get something out of the deal. Stay away from me. And stay away from my friends.”
She clicked the safety on the gun, slid it back into her pocket, and walked quickly to Garrett’s beckoning hand. Once she was safely ensconced up against him, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, he turned her and hustled her out of the alleyway, thinking the entire way that she probably hadn’t needed his help after all.
As soon as they rounded the bend and were out of sight of Steve and his friends, though, her knees gave out and he had to catch her, her breathless laugh rushing into his ear.
“I never even shot a gun before today,” she said, shaking from either laughter or adrenaline in his arms. “And now I’m pulling a gun on someone trying to attack me?”
Garrett laug
hed with her and set her back on her feet, keeping his hands on her shoulders until he was sure she was steady enough to stand on her own. “I told you you were a natural. Look at you, taking to guns like a fish to water.”
“Only because of you,” she told him solemnly. “Garrett, be careful of that man. Like he says, we’ve known each other for some time, and he’s never taken well to coming in second place. Definitely hasn’t taken well to anything that looked like law. I don’t trust him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he came after you just because he’s decided he doesn’t like you. He certainly has visions of grandeur in regards to running this town himself, rather than leaving it to you.”
Garrett nodded once. She wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know.
“I agree with you, and I’ve been warned about him before. But rest assured that I won’t let him take me by surprise. I’ve known people like him. And they very rarely have the guts to actually do anything more than talk.”
Keeping his arm wrapped around her shoulder, he directed them toward the schoolhouse and started to walk quickly toward the people he could hear up there. He wanted to get Elisa into the hands of someone who could keep her steady until she was over her adrenaline rush.
As for Steve, he’d deal with him in another time, and another place. Right now he had other things on his mind—like making sure the people of Trinity Ranch were prepared for whatever might come their way.
Chapter 8
Three days later, they were all starting to feel restless. None of them had seen any further sign of the Helen Falls gang, and they’d gone through their barricades and traps and explosives again and again—enough that there were no more improvements to be made. No more tweaking to do.
In short, they were out of busywork. They hadn’t been able to go out scouting for any further supplies, either, which meant that their supplies were now dwindling, starting to reach dangerous levels. And without the bikers attacking them and giving them access to Helen Falls, per his plan, Garrett wasn’t sure how they were going to get more. The towns in this area were picked clean, courtesy of the people from Helen Falls and Trinity Ranch, so they weren’t going to find anything else—even if they could get to the other towns, which they couldn’t, given the lack of transportation. Sure, they might have walked, but it would have taken them too long to reach any of the other cities, and none of them would have taken that sort of risk. They still weren’t sure how many bikers might be around Trinity Ranch, or whether they were under surveillance.
At Any Cost (Book 3): Bleak Horizons Page 5