by Payne, T. L.
Imagining his little girl sleeping on a cot in an overcrowded, noisy, and frightening shelter broke his heart, but it was better than the alternative. At least there would be food, water, and security.
"What about you? You anxious to see your folks?" Scott asked.
"I am so ready to get there. I am going to get out of these filthy clothes, get a shower, and hover over the wood stove for a few days."
"That sounds like heaven, all right."
"You could stay the night and head out fresh tomorrow. My folks wouldn't mind."
Scott said nothing.
The thought of warm food, a shower, and a warm place to sleep was compelling, but not so much as being eight hours closer to his daughter.
"I appreciate the offer, I really do." Scott turned and looked at JJ. "But I need to get down the road."
JJ placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I know, but the offer still stands. You can come in get a quick bite to eat."
He thought about it. He could spare ten or fifteen minutes. It might be the last cooked meal he'd eat for a very long time.
When they reached the end of Possum Hollow Road, Scott turned right and headed toward the highway. As they pulled through the intersection, Scott spotted a man standing on the roadway on the opposite side. They locked eyes for a moment. Scott noted fear in his expression. He didn't blame the man. After all he'd seen and been through the last few days, he'd say the man had cause to be wary of strangers. The man slipped behind some brush along the roadway as Scott accelerated and turned south.
As they passed the turn for the S Bar F Scout Ranch, Scott noticed tracks leading to the camp.
Scott pointed to his left.
"Looks like people are staying at the scout ranch."
"That would sound like a good plan if the place weren't haunted," JJ said.
Scott glanced over at her.
"Haunted?"
"Yeah. Some guy murdered his wife and buried her there. Rumors are that she roams the camp looking for revenge."
Scott laughed. "Sounds like campfire ghost stories to me."
"The part about the murder and body being found there is true. It happened back in the eighties or something. I heard about it as a kid and looked it up. I was kind of into true crime novels back then."
"Interesting."
That thought led Scott to think about all the bodies they'd seen since the lights went out. How many more would die before they got all this straightened out and back to normal? Where were they going to put all the bodies if it didn't happen soon?
Scott was lost in thought, thinking about cities filled with the dead. He looked down at the speedometer. He was only able to go thirty-five miles-per-hour. If he were driving a vehicle with lower clearance, he doubted they'd be able to travel at all.
"Scott!" JJ screamed.
He looked up at her just as another vehicle plowed into the passenger side of the Suburban. Scott stomped on the brakes, but on the slick roadway, the vehicle just kept sliding to their left. The other vehicle was pushing them off the road.
JJ was holding onto the dash as the Suburban dropped off the edge of the roadway and began sliding down the incline. Scott fought to hold on to the steering wheel as they accelerated. They were going to hit bottom—hard.
Chapter 2
Possum Hollow Road
Farmington, Missouri
February 22nd approximately 6:00 pm
A single candle sat on the coffee table in the Wards’ family room. Raine watched the light dance on the ceiling and wall behind the old wood stove. Antonio had the fire blazing hot. After freezing for so many days, Raine and the rest of the group were huddled close to it, soaking in its warmth. Raine couldn’t get enough of it. Getting warm had even taken a back seat to eating.
“You think he’ll make it?” Sheena asked.
“Scott? I want to say yes,” Raine said.
The others nodded.
Raine rubbed her hands together. It felt strange to have feeling in her fingers again. “I mean. I want to believe in happy endings.”
Brandon eased himself down onto the chair next to hers. “It won’t be easy driving halfway across the country. And even if he gets to Tallahassee, the odds of him finding his little girl are slim.”
Raine shifted to face him. She wondered if he felt a little guilty for not going with Scott and trying to locate his own family down in Georgia.
“He’s tough and has common sense. He could make it. His daughter could still be at his ex-wife’s house. He said they lived in some rich gated neighborhood. They probably have security guards. They could be okay,” Lucy said.
“They could, but I don’t think rich folks stock a lot of food in their pantries. Most people don’t, for that matter. They eat out so much and then they only shop for a couple of days at a time. If Scott’s ex-wife ran out of food, I bet they’d head for the coast,” Brandon said.
“That’s where I’d go,” Tom said.
Gage nodded. “Me too. I think that’d be the best place to be in a situation like this.”
“You and everyone else. That is exactly why I would avoid the coast and go north into the national forest to get away from the hordes of people thinking just like that,” Raine said.
“Isn’t your family on the coast?” Lucy asked.
Raine nodded. The thought of her mother and Gwen fighting off hordes of people sickened her. “Yeah. My mom went to my aunt’s house. She had stocked food for a few weeks. You learn the necessity of doing that after going through hurricanes every year or so.”
“They’ll be good for a while then, I bet,” Sheena said, placing a hand on Raine’s knee.
“Why did you not go with Scott?” Lucy asked.
Raine said nothing. She swallowed hard and stared down at her hands. She knew she’d made the right decision, but she was still racked with guilt—and grief. She wasn’t sure she’d ever see her mother again. She’d never get a chance to repair her relationship with her dad. Raine fought back tears. They’d be all right for a while if no one took their supplies from them. In her heart, she really didn’t think Scott would ever make it to Florida—not with all the violence she’d seen so far. She knew that her mother would want her to live and would rather see her safe on a farm far away than take such a risky journey. At least that was what she kept telling herself. Was she a coward?
Brandon looked from Lucy to Raine. “I… Honestly, I don’t think there’s any way to make it across the country. Not from what I’ve seen so far.”
They all sat in silence watching the flames dance through the glass in the door of the stove. Raine looked around the room at all the Wards’ framed photos and collectibles. They’d had a long and happy life, by the looks of the photos lined up on the television cabinet. Raine recalled the photos along the wall going up the stairs of her childhood home. The photos of her with her mother, father, and brother when they had been a happy family. She tried to remember the good times before David had gotten sick. It seemed like a lifetime ago. She wished she still had her cell phone. It held photos of some of the best times of her life. They were all gone now. She no longer had a record of her camping trips or days on the beach.
Raine was lost in thought about how they’d deal with summer heat, if the lights weren’t on by then. DeAndre’s stomach growled loudly. He giggled and slid out of his mother’s lap.
“Someone’s hungry,” Sheena said.
Lucy stood and stretched. “I imagine we all are. I’m going to see what I can round up for dinner.”
“I’ll help you,” Antonio said, jumping to his feet a little too fast. He winced and hopped on one foot.
“Is that knee getting any better?” Sheena asked.
He nodded. “Some,” he said as he followed Lucy to the kitchen.
With a roaring fire going in a second wood stove tucked into a corner of the kitchen, Lucy and Antonio took turns warming the canned soups pulled from the pantry.
With warm soup filling her belly, Raine’s e
yelids grew heavy. She yawned and rubbed her eyes.
“I think we are all ready for bed,” Lucy said.
Sheena yawned, “I’m going to sleep until this time tomorrow.”
“We should think about posting a guard, just in case those neighbors decide to return to run us off,” Brandon said.
Raine was so tired. The thought of having to go outside and stare off into the dark sounded like torture. But Brandon was right. They couldn’t afford to let their guard down now. Not after all they’d been through to get here. This place was worth fighting for. She wouldn’t let anyone take it from them. Raine looked at DeAndre. He bounced his toy soldier on the backs of the chairs as he followed Sheena out of the kitchen. She wouldn’t let anyone take this from him.
“I’ll go first. I’d rather get it over with now,” Raine said as she stood.
“Maybe we should have two guards. One for the front and one for the back,” Lucy said.
Brandon nodded. “That’s not a bad idea. Tom. Gage. You two can observe and wake us if you spot anyone, right?”
Tom and Gage looked at one another. For a moment, Raine thought she was going to see the old irresponsible guys she’d known back at the apartments.
“Absolutely,” Tom said.
“Just let us know when,” Gage added.
Brandon pulled a notepad and pen from a basket on top of the now-nonfunctional microwave and scribbled everyone’s names on it. “Raine and I will take first watch.”
Chapter 3
Highway 67
Farmington, Missouri
February 22nd, approximately 6:15 pm
Scott yanked at the seat belt across his neck. His eyelids felt heavy. He tried to lift his head, but his throat hurt. His cheek hurt. Everything hurt.
What the hell happened?
Lifting his left eyelid, Scott tried to orient himself to his surroundings. He felt as though he was dreaming.
And where in the world am I?
He reached across his chest and attempted to push himself up to a seated position. The seat belt dug into his neck. He opened his right eye. It was dark out. Scott reached down and felt around for the seat belt latch and released it. When he did, he slid sideways slightly. He turned his head to the right and looked around the vehicle. He couldn’t recall what had happened, but he must have wrecked somehow. Scott reached out and ran his hand along the bench seat as far as he could reach.
This isn’t my truck.
It was all so confusing. The vehicle was obviously lying on its driver’s side. He wouldn’t be able to get out that way. He’d need to climb up and go out of the passenger door. Scott grabbed the steering wheel in an attempt to pull himself up and turn. It hurt to move. He wondered if he’d broken bones. No matter, he had to get out and away in case the vehicle caught on fire.
Twisting around and grabbing the back of the seat, Scott pulled himself toward the passenger door with all his might. He was almost standing with one foot on the driver’s door and another against the steering wheel. He attempted to push the door open, but it was too heavy. He couldn’t hold it open and climb out at the same time. He’d have to try the window.
He felt around for the window switch and pressed it to roll it down. He heard nothing. It wasn’t until he felt the cold air on his face that he realized the glass was missing. Scott pushed off with his legs and pulled himself through the hole. He hit the ground hard.
With the wind knocked out of him, Scott lay there a moment trying to catch his breath. Once he was able to breathe somewhat, he got to his hands and knees and crawled away from the vehicle. He made it only a few feet before the pain in his chest stopped him. He was on a steep incline. He didn’t have the energy to climb just yet.
Scott turned and sat on his butt, staring at the wrecked Suburban, its headlights illuminating the tops of the trees. He had no memory of the accident that had sent it into the ditch.
With the adrenaline rush from his climb out of the vehicle wearing off, Scott was beginning to feel pain from his injuries. He was shivering now. His hands and feet were painfully cold. He brushed snow from his hands and rubbed his brow, wincing as he touched a gash above his left eye. Scott ran a hand down his cheek. Sticky blood caked the left side of his face. He felt his scalp. He had another gash just above his left ear.
Was I knocked unconscious? How long have I been out here?
It hurt to breathe. Scott unzipped his coat, unbuttoned his shirt, lifted two base layers of clothing and inspected his chest and abdomen. He wasn’t bleeding, but there was a nasty bruise forming across his chest. He lowered his shirt and zipped his coat. His ribs could be broken, but binding them would have to wait.
He had no idea why he was driving an old Suburban instead of his new pickup truck. He tried to remember where he’d been heading. As he stared at the wreckage, a memory tickled the back of his mind. But his head was pounding, making it hard to concentrate. He swallowed and tasted blood. He touched his lip. It was swollen and cracked. It was becoming increasingly harder to breathe. He’d for sure broken some ribs.
I hope I haven’t punctured a lung.
He rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them and restore feeling to his fingers. The cold snow beneath him was chilling his body even more. He needed to find some way to get warm and quick.
Scott tried to stand, but he was dizzy. He sucked in a deep breath and managed to get to his feet.
At least my legs still work.
Grabbing hold of anything he could, Scott pulled himself out of the ditch.
At the top of the hill, Scott turned and stared down at the wreckage. He had a faint recollection of doing that before. He ran a hand through his hair. It was longer than he normally kept it. A face flittered into memory. He couldn’t place it. Then it came to him—a pink Jeep at the bottom of a ravine, the EMP, and JJ Durham.
Where is she?
Scott retrieved the flashlight clipped to his belt and flicked it on. The flashlight’s beam illuminated the wreckage. His gaze followed the path the Suburban gouged in the ground up the hill to the snow-covered road. He shined the light all around the old SUV. If JJ had been thrown from the vehicle, he couldn’t see her.
“JJ, are you down there?” Scott called.
All he heard was silence.
He slid back down to the Suburban and scanned the area for her. As he looked closer, he noticed several sets of footprints. He hadn’t noticed them before. They led down the hill to the vehicle and back up again. Scott bent over and inspected a set of tracks that looked more like drag marks. He reached out and touched what appeared to be blood. He rubbed it between his fingers as he stared down at the Suburban. JJ could be injured. Where the hell is she? Did she go for help?
Scott shined the light inside the back seat to confirm it held no other passengers. He saw no evidence that anyone else had been with them. And then he remembered. They’d dropped the others off at the Wards’ farm. He looked back up the hill. Was that where JJ went? Had she left to get help from Brandon, Raine, and the others? That had to have been where she’d gone.
Pulling the rear passenger door open, Scott retrieved his pack from the third-row seat. He tried but was unable to put his arms through the straps and place it on his back. It was just too painful. He’d have to carry it over his shoulder. That too hurt like hell, but it was manageable.
Scott climbed the hill and followed footprints to a second set of tire tracks. Had they collided with another vehicle? Did they go to get help? Did JJ leave with them? His heart was hammering in his chest. His mind was racing, trying desperately to remember what had happened. He turned and looked around.
There were no houses or businesses along the stretch of road for as far as he could see in the beam of the flashlight. Scott listened. He heard nothing. From the middle of the intersection, Scott began to reconstruct the accident from the tracks the vehicles had made in the snow. One set of tire tracks led north. He studied them. From the skid marks, it looked like the second vehicle had pulle
d out from a side street and struck them. Scott followed the tracks across the southbound lanes and down a side road about fifty feet until it branched off to the right and left. He shined the flashlight back and forth and studied the tracks. The vehicle had proceeded to his right. Scott followed them down a narrow lane lined on both sides by woods.
A moment later, Scott found himself in the driveway of a two-story ranch-style house. For a moment, Scott was hesitant to approach it. Maybe they’d come here seeking help? Maybe they were tending to JJ’s injuries. But why had they left him behind? Had they believed that he was dead?
Scott hesitated before approaching the front door. He wasn’t sure, but something seemed off about the whole thing. He felt a wave of nausea. Everything was such a fog. He knew something was wrong, but he just couldn’t remember what.
He was just about to knock when he heard voices to his left. Scott turned and took a tentative step toward a detached garage. He stopped and listened.
They’re speaking Spanish.
Leaning against the wall of the detached garage, Scott listened to three men. At that moment, he regretted not paying attention in Spanish class in high school. He recognized banco and dinero. They were talking about money.
The realization of what had happened hit Scott hard. It was unreal. It made no sense that the drug cartel could have found them. Not without technology. Not after all this time. Had they been standing by the road for days waiting for them to pass? Then he recalled his conversation with Dean Cartwright and how Mrs. Ward’s neighbors had been upset about JJ staying there. They’d been going door to door searching for her. And now they had her.
He had to find her and get her out of there, but how? He needed to find out where they were holding her. He wouldn’t entertain the thought that she wasn’t alive. He pushed gruesome images of drug cartel murders he’d seen on television from his mind as he crept to the back of the garage looking for a window. Scott peered around the back corner. A faint light shined through a window. The ground was dark. He couldn’t see if there were any obstacles next to the building. He hoped not. He didn’t dare risk turning on his flashlight and alerting the men inside to his presence.
