by William Oday
He blew out a slow, shallow breath and pushed down the fear. Losing it wasn’t going to help. Another breath and he tried the only thing he could think of.
He took a few breaths to get oxygen into his system and then blew the last one out. And kept blowing. More than a normal exhale. He kept blowing until his lungs emptied out and his chest ached with the need for another breath.
The pressure on his shoulders eased a fraction and he kicked forward with his toes. It was enough. He squeezed through the tight spot and the diameter returned to a still claustrophobic constriction.
But it was manageable.
He inched through the remainder and made it out the other side.
A part of him wanted to rethink the whole thing, but that meant going back through the culvert and there was no way he was doing that again.
Cade kept low and hustled into the trees a ways before hooking right and going parallel to the road.
The firefight had quieted down but he had no illusions about it being over.
The bad guys were planning their next move. Or waiting for the farmer and Hudson to show enough of themselves to present a proper target.
He darted from one row of trees to the next, glancing toward the road in the open spaces between. He finally spotted the Cutlass and dove into the next row of trees, certain they’d seen him and that a volley of deadly fire was coming his way.
But no.
They hadn’t.
He continued through two more rows and then cut back toward the road. He made it to the embankment and edged up to take a look.
All three were lined up behind the Cutlass, attention and weapons focused down the road. One turned around and Cade ducked just in time.
Their voices floated over to him.
“We gotta kill those bastards. I’m not going to sit here all day twiddling my thumbs, waiting for them to run out of ammo.”
“Now you’re talking! Should we rush them all at once?”
“Yeah, sure, if you want to die, idiot. No, we’re going to be smart. See the embankments on both sides? One of you is going to sneak down each side and take them by surprise. I’ll keep their attention up here on the road.”
Cade cursed.
Any second, one of them was going to walk over and see him pitched over on the slope. It was now or never.
He crept up just enough to get a clear shot. He lined up the sights on the closest one and squeezed off two rounds.
Both hit center mass and the guy slumped against the car.
The other two reacted faster than him and his next shots missed as one dove into the car and the other disappeared on the other side of the road.
Cade fired a few rounds into the driver’s door, but didn’t know if any had gone through.
The Cutlass’ engine roared and it fishtailed around. The tires screeched and smoked as it took off like a rocket.
The guy hidden in the opposite ditch ran up onto the road, yelling and cursing at being left behind.
Cade was lining up the front sight when a rifle shot went off.
The guy took one in the back and fell to the pavement.
The farmer was leaning over the hood. He fired again and another round found its mark.
Cade finished off the first guy and turned to do the same to the other, but he was already dead. He watched the Cutlass speed away and finally took a breath.
He gathered up their rifles and found extra magazines in their jackets. He was rummaging through their pockets when Hudson and the farmer arrived. He pocketed what was useful and left the rest.
He rose to find the farmer’s hand extended toward him. “My name’s Wesley Guthrie and I believe I owe you my life. Thank you.”
Cade shook his hand and got a good look at him for the first time.
Late sixties. Early seventies. Thin white hair parted on the side. His face lined with deep wrinkles that were crusted with dirt. Skin like leather. A checkered long sleeve shirt with the cuffs rolled up. Faded denim jeans with patches sewn over the knees. Clear blue eyes that didn’t miss a thing.
“Cade Bowman. Glad it worked out like it did.”
He didn’t have to add that it could’ve gone another way and ended up with them dead on the road instead.
“Yeah, me too.”
Hudson grinned. “I knew we’d kick their asses!”
Cade stifled the urge to slap him. They were going to have a serious conversation about it. But now wasn’t the time.
“You folks from around here?” Wesley asked.
“No. Home is Durango, but we’re heading to Las Vegas.”
“Long way to go on foot.”
“We’ve got bikes over in the ditch,” Hudson said. “What did those guys want from you?”
“What else? Money. I just dropped off a full load of organic heirloom tomatoes to my distributor in Livermore. Those lowlifes must’ve known about it somehow.”
Hudson pulled a face. “You accepted payment in cash?”
Wesley frowned. “Yeah, not smart in hindsight. But I’ve always done it that way and never had a problem before. Was making my peace with the Lord when you folks showed up.”
He eyed the two AR-15s slung over Cade’s shoulder. “Nice score there.”
Cade wondered if he was going to ask for one and then wondered further how he would answer.
“Anyhow, I’m heading home to Elderwood. It’s a speck of a town northeast of Visalia. Not even a post office since the local branch closed twenty years ago. Be happy to give you a ride. It’ll get you halfway to Vegas a lot faster than a bicycle.”
It wasn’t part of the original plan.
It was better.
It was an unexpected opportunity. The kind Cade hoped they’d run across but knew they couldn’t count on.
But here it was.
And he couldn’t have been more thankful.
“Thank you. That would be amazing. My legs are about to fall off from riding all day.”
37
The trip back to Wesley’s farm took a good six hours because they stuck to country roads and went out of their way to avoid Modesto, Merced and Fresno. The rose glow of twilight was fading into the darker blues of night when the farm finally came into view.
The sound of dogs barking greeted them as they pulled off the dirt road and onto the dirt tracks that led to the house.
Wesley turned on the headlights. The bright beams revealed dozens of dogs racing toward them. The whole pack twisting and jumping and leaping around and over each other.
Hudson stiffened and his mouth dropped open.
Wesley chuckled. “Don’t worry. They’re tame, for the most part. As long as they see you’re a friend, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” He slowed the truck as the dogs gathered round, barking and yelping their heads off.
Cade flinched away as one leaped up and appeared in the side window for an instant. He loved dogs more than most. Grown up with them. Always had at least one in his life. But this was crazy. “Do you operate a rescue center on the side?”
Wesley laughed. “Not officially. But you could say that. I take in strays and dogs that the pound is going to put down. Some haven’t worked out, but most find their place in the pack and do fine. I even adopt one out from time to time, so long as I know it’s going to a good home.”
“How much do you charge?” Hudson asked.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? It costs five hundred dollars to adopt a dog in San Francisco.”
“And people still do it?”
“Oh, yeah. All the time. My fiancé and I…” he trailed off.
Wesley looked over and Cade shook his head.
They pulled up to a white, two-story clapboard farmhouse with a wide porch out front. Mismatched chairs and side tables beside the screened front door. A porch swing that wasn’t quite level on the far end. Floral patterned curtains hung in the windows. A line of metal bowls on the ground along the edge of the house. A wiry-haired Jack Russell mix darted from bowl to bow
l, sniffing inside each for a forgotten morsel.
A barn and other outbuildings surrounded the house. Fields in various stages of harvest surrounded it all.
Wesley killed the engine but left the lights on. “You mind helping me feed this ravenous pack? If they don’t get properly full, they might come after us in our sleep.”
Hudson’s eyes went wide.
Wesley elbowed him good-naturedly. “I’m joshing. They won’t come after me.”
Hudson’s eyes darted to Cade for confirmation.
“He’s kidding,” Cade said and he was pretty sure it was true.
Wesley climbed out and made the introductions.
The pack sniffed over Cade and he gave the ones that came close a pat for greeting. They quickly turned their attention to Hudson, likely picking up on his nervous energy.
“Is this okay? Is this what they normally do?” Hudson said when a beagle hopped up and started humping his leg.
Wesley pushed it off. “Elvira! Behave yourself!”
Elvira darted away, her tail wagging furiously.
They waded through a mass of fur and bumping bodies, up the steps to the porch. Wesley shooed them away and the three slipped inside. Together, they helped fill all the bowls and fed the impatient mob. The howling and barking and yelping finally quieted down because food was more enticing than visitors.
Though Elvira kept looking over at Hudson, making him nervous.
Finally, the last bowl was filled and all the dogs were busy eating. All except for one. A cute little auburn-colored dachshund that had stuck to Wesley’s heel and ignored the other dogs like they weren’t worth so much as a sniff. Something was wrong with her back leg because she had a pronounced limp.
Wesley scooped it up and tucked it under his arm. “This is Lottie. Found her half-dead on the road after getting hit by a car. Took her to the vet and they did what they could, but she’ll never be the same.” He stroked her long muzzle. “For some reason, she’s gotten it into her head that she’s the queen around here.”
She barked and he nuzzled her ear. “Oh, you hush.” He turned up the steps and they followed.
Cade laughed. “I think I see why she thinks that.”
Wesley chuckled and led them inside to a small kitchen. He set Lottie on the floor and she resumed her position at his heel. He lit a couple of lanterns for light and started pulling things out of the fridge and cabinets. “I imagine you folks are as hungry as I am. Let’s pile up some plates and go take a seat on the porch.”
After Cade filled his plate with two pork chops, mashed potatoes, corn on the cub with a fat slice of butter and coated with salt, green beans, fried okra, a scoop of dressing, and collard greens, he paused to admire the mountain of delicious food.
And then felt a little self-conscious.
Wesley must’ve noticed because he laughed. “Don’t be shy. Eat up. I won’t be able to finish all this myself.”
He didn’t feel so bad when he saw that Hudson’s plate was just as full.
“Save room though,” Wesley said. “Ms. Whitley brought by some of her world famous rhubarb pie yesterday. You will not want to miss out on that. I promise you.”
“I don’t know how to thank you for all this, for letting us stay the night,” Cade said.
“It’s me who should be thanking you. I wouldn’t be looking forward to a slice of that pie without your help.”
Wesley led them out to the porch and they brought the lanterns along.
Hudson jumped when glowing eyes reflected back from the bottom step.
The dogs that had finished their dinners were gathered round the bottom step, but not coming up.
Cade and Hudson took a seat and were about to dig in when Wesley interrupted.
“You mind if I say a blessing first?”
“Not at all,” Cade said.
Wesley finished the prayer and then the conversation went quiet while they tore into the feast. All that could be heard was the tinking of forks on porcelain plates and the occasional whine from one of the dogs waiting more or less patiently below.
Lottie sat in Wesley’s lap and got a nibble of about every fifth bite that Wesley took for himself. She was definitely queen of the manor.
Once they’d plowed through an indecent amount of food and their bellies were uncomfortably bloated, conversation picked up again. They hadn’t talked much on the ride over because the farm truck’s old diesel engine made shouting the only way to be heard. But they had discussed the event and Cade had explained what they were most likely facing.
“An EMP, huh?” Wesley said as he poked at the last few green beans on his plate. “Guess that means we’re at war.”
“Most likely, yes,” Cade said.
“Who attacked us?”
“My guess is North Korea or Iran. Whoever did it is now a smoking pile of irradiated ash.”
“How?” Hudson said. “I thought the EMP toasted almost everything.”
“We have fourteen Ohio-class submarines patrolling the waters around the world. They carry about half of our active strategic thermonuclear warheads. Besides those, some portion of the domestic military apparatus will have survived the pulse. The military has known about the EMP threat for years. They know how to harden infrastructure and vehicles to withstand an EMP. It’s just been a matter of budget dollars and priorities to get it done.” He turned to Hudson. “You saw all those military vehicles outside Pleasanton. A lot of them looked vintage, probably pulled out of mothballs from a local National Guard armory. But plenty more were newer models that must’ve been hardened.”
Wesley tossed a few bones off the porch and the scramble below made clear the dogs had been waiting for it.
Cade left a few good bits of meat on his pork chops and lobbed them out to the pack.
Crickets chirped and a bullfrog trumpeted his mating call. A breeze rustled through the leaves of the towering elm on the side of the house. The heat of the day had broken. The cool air a relief on skin made pink by the sun.
It was idyllic.
A peaceful little corner of the world.
But for how much longer?
38
Lily shifted position to relieve the ache in her shoulders. It helped, a little. She and Piper had been tied up and sitting on that filthy couch all day long.
The light filtering through the sheets covering the windows was fading so the sun must’ve dipped below the horizon. It had been nothing but hours and hours of waiting. Waiting while her imagination ran wild with all the horrible things that would happen to them.
It had been so long that Donny had gotten drunk, stomped around ranting about Zeke double-crossing him and how he was going to kill the traitor, threatened to knock Lily’s head off, ran out of beer, finally sobered up, decided Zeke would never do that after all they’d been through together, eaten something that looked like it hadn’t been edible in days, smoked a bowl of meth, jittered around again threatening to beat the crap out of them, come down and been angry there wasn’t any more beer, and finally, half an hour ago, fallen asleep. He sat in a ratty brown recliner across the room. One leg hanging over the side. Chin resting on his chest and snoring. The revolver that he’d waved in their faces all day long in his lap. One hand near it, but not holding it.
It was now or never.
As soon as Zeke got back, they’d be taken to whoever Jax was and he sounded even worse than these two.
Lily rolled back on the couch and bumped into Piper.
Piper jerked away. “What?”
“Shhh,” Lily said. She rolled back into a ball and reached her bound hands out. With a little work, she managed to squeeze her legs through her arms and end up with her hands in front. The change from having them behind her for the last however many hours brought a measure of instant relief to her aching shoulders.
“What are you doing?” Piper whispered.
Lily held her finger up to her lips. She wrenched her arms out trying to snap the three zip ties cinched around he
r wrists. They didn’t break. They did cut into her skin though, almost making her cry out.
It would’ve been better to have them off, but it wasn’t required.
She carefully lowered herself to the floor.
A spring in the couch creaked and she froze.
Waiting for Donny to wake up and come flying at her in a rage.
His snoring continued without a hitch.
Lily got on all fours because she couldn’t walk with the zip ties around her ankles.
“No,” Piper hissed. “Don’t do it. He’ll kill us.”
Lily started toward him. And more specifically, toward the handgun in his lap. If she could get it without waking him up, this whole nightmare could end. More importantly, the nightmare yet to come could be averted.
She scooted along, closing the distance inches at a time. She set her hands down on something she hadn’t seen. A cellophane wrapper crinkled. In the relative quiet, it sounded like a car alarm going off.
She froze, too scared to even breathe.
Donny’s snores stuttered and he shifted in the chair. His head tipped to the side. The hand by the gun scratched himself. He muttered something and she knew it was over.
But then he settled and the snoring returned to a regular rhythm.
She let out the breath and took another to steady her nerves. She continued forward, getting closer.
A car outside sped up the street. Louder as it approached.
Fear flooded through her and settled in her belly with a sickening splash.
Zeke was back.
They were going to be taken to Jax. A criminal underlord that dabbled in the sex slave trade from what she’d heard.
Headlights flooded through the front window, lighting up the living room. The car roared by. Light swept across the wall, hit Donny and slid away. The car roared down the street.
Whoever it was, it wasn’t Zeke.
Donny’s eyelids fluttered and he shifted again. The gun fell off his lap and into the crease between his leg and the chair.
Lily gritted her teeth. She looked around, thinking maybe she should grab something to hit him with.
