Krista shook her head, her feet wanting to take off for Summer’s position.
Summer’s face turned tense as she pointed again at Lipton, sending a look that reminded Krista of the promise she’d just made about Lipton.
Krista nodded, though it was the last thing she wanted to do.
Summer put her arm down, turned, and took off after the dog.
“Dammit Summer,” Krista said as another guard from her team assembled next to her. She pointed at the rock shaped like a teardrop. “Get on that rock and see what’s ahead. If it’s the Scabs, then we fall back and make a stand. Nobody takes them on alone. Understood?”
The guard nodded and readied his rifle by releasing the magazine from the lower receiver and checking the rounds inside. He crammed it back into place before pulling the charging bolt back and letting it snap forward.
Krista led him with her eyes, aiming them at Horton and the Scab girl’s position. “Move.”
CHAPTER 39
Simms pushed through a grove of evergreen trees, looking for signs of Summer’s trail as the branches gave way.
The ground cover ahead had little in the way of loose dirt or leaves. Nothing soft for impressions or indents. No ice or snow either—only round pebbles the size of pennies and bits of dark-colored bark.
He didn’t understand it. He was certain Summer had just run through this very spot. It was as if she’d vanished right before his eyes. So had the dog, assuming Summer had followed the canine’s path through these trees.
Simms stopped moving and listened, not hearing anything other than the beat of his own heart and a few natural forest sounds.
Perhaps Summer had caught up to the dog and decided to duck down somewhere and hide. It would explain the lack of tracks. Sounds. Everything.
Simms cupped his hands around his mouth and took in a deep breath, about to call out to her. Then a strange feeling rose across his skin, sending a chill into his bones.
He dropped his arms and held his tongue, wondering if giving away his position was the right move. Maybe if he had more field training or some of Krista’s military experience, he’d know what to do.
Just then, branches snapped behind him, making him flinch as a shadow blurred past him on the left, catching part of his shoulder as it screamed by.
It was the Scab girl, her frizzy blonde hair and skinny legs darting through the foliage like a cheetah on the hunt.
“Come on,” a slender guard with a goatee said a few seconds later as he followed Helena, plowing through the forest with his boots.
Before Simms could move, he felt a pair of hands grab onto his elbow.
“Gotta keep up,” Horton said, yanking Simms forward. “She’s onto something.”
Simms peered back, expecting to see Krista holding up the rear. Yet she wasn’t there. Only the mirage of endless green mixed in with the brown.
He turned forward again and took off in a sprint behind Horton, wondering how many more trees he'd have to endure, each one with sharp branches out to smack him in the face.
When a riverbed with basketball-sized rocks came into view, Helena zoomed across the obstacle course, landing her feet with precision, like a squirrel hopping from tree to tree.
The rest of her entourage slowed down and slipped into a single file formation, with the skinny guard leading the way across the rocks.
Simms made sure to plant his feet in the same spots as Horton, who was apparently doing the same thing with the guard in front of him.
Ahead—maybe twenty yards—was a stand of scrub oak bushes, their thorns and acorn-sized leaves blocking the view beyond. There were also green plants with broad-shaped leaves snaking their way in and around the thorns, creating a mosaic pattern that resembled an abstract painting.
Scab girl angled left, then right, giving them a route to follow, though her slender frame meant the rest of them would most likely suffer collateral damage.
Simms brought his arms in as the thorns tore at his skin, opening cuts and scrapes in the uncovered areas around his hands, wrist, and neck.
He wasn’t sure how long this chase would last, but it needed to end soon. His chest was almost out of air and the bloodletting would only get worse. Scabs could smell blood, apparently from miles away. The more blood he lost, the more of a target he would become.
The bushes opened up to a clearing ten steps later. That’s when he saw them—Summer and the dog—plus a crop of men. Sleeveless men with neck tattoos.
Shit.
Frost’s men.
Each with a gun.
One of them was bald and had his dark-skinned hand wrapped around Summer’s mouth.
A slender man with stringy gray hair had the dog pressed into the dirt with his knee, keeping the animal’s mouth closed with a clamp of his hand.
“Welcome to the party, my friends,” the muscular bald man said from behind Summer. “We were starting to wonder if you’d ever get here.”
“On your knees,” a man with flaming red hair said, raising a rifle at Simms.
There was a bloody wrap of cloth sitting at the man’s feet, with a bushy tail sticking out from underneath.
Ground squirrel maybe, Simms figured.
Scent for the dog.
And for the Scab girl, who was lying unguarded next to the redhaired man. There was blood on her forehead, leaking out from a gash above her left eye.
Not far from Helena was the skinny guard who had zipped past Simms and told him to keep up. The guy’s throat was sliced open, with blood pouring out. And his chest didn’t appear to be moving. Or anything else along his body, for that matter.
Simms dropped to the ground and raised his hands, seeing Horton to the left.
The bearded man was on his knees and being detained by a giant red-skinned man with black hair that draped down his back in straight lines. He had a pistol pointed at the back of Horton’s head.
Beyond all of them was a scattering of mature oak trees. Maybe forty yards away. Each trunk had something tied to it with rope. Wait, check that. Someone tied to it.
There were four naked women, each one tanned and scarred, their heads covered with some kind of brown hood. Burlap sacks, perhaps. None of them appeared to be moving.
“Looks like we’re missing one, Fletch,” the redhaired man said to the bald guy.
“I’m getting to it, Dice,” Fletcher replied. He then leaned in close to Summer’s ear from behind. “Where’s Lipton?”
Summer broke into a frenzy, swinging her arms and kicking her legs as she screamed something into his hand.
Fletcher tossed her body from left to right and back again as if she only weighed five pounds. “Easy now, bitch. That’s how more of your friends will get hurt.”
Summer continued her punching and kicking, apparently not hearing the man’s words.
Fletcher threw her to the ground and climbed on top of her, his hand still covering her mouth. “Stop it or I’ll kill every last one. Slowly.”
It took another second or two, but Summer’s arms and legs ended their resistance, falling limp as if she’d passed out.
“That’s better,” Fletcher said, sliding off and getting to his feet, dragging her with him. “Now, if I remove my hand, will you stay calm?”
She nodded.
He took his hand away in measured increments. “Now, answer my question.”
“Which one?”
“Lipton?”
“He’s not with us,” Summer said. “We left him back at camp.”
“That’s a load of bullshit,” Dice snapped. “We were just there and he wasn’t.”
“Plus, we saw him when we took a shortcut to get ahead of you. So try again. This time, the truth,” Fletcher said, flicking his eyes in the direction of Simms. “Otherwise, wonder boy over there is next.”
Before Simms could react, Horton spoke up. “Fletcher, you don’t have to do this. I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
Fletcher turned his focus to Horton and burned a gaze
into him. Then he looked at the red-skinned guard keeping Horton secure. “Archer, if that traitor speaks again, shoot him.”
“With pleasure,” Archer replied.
Fletcher continued, his eyes now aimed at Summer. “So what’s it going to be, girl? Or should I do the world a favor and gut that mangy mutt of yours? Right now, with the dullest blade we have.”
Summer closed her eyes and held still, making Simms wonder if she was playing possum.
Before he could decide, she stuck her jaw out, opened her eyes, and said, “He’s back at our trucks.”
“Is Carr with him?”
“Summer, no. Don’t tell him anything,” Simms said. A second later, he felt something smash against the back of his head, sending him to the ground in a twist. He craned his neck and looked at Summer, hoping she’d follow his suggestion.
Summer nodded to Fletcher. “Krista doesn’t want to let that jerk out of her sight. She doesn’t trust him.”
“Nor should she.”
“Why are you doing this?” Summer asked. “I thought we were all on the same side.”
Fletcher huffed a short breath, as if he were amused. “There are no sides, Summer. Only the winners—us. And the losers—you. It boggles the mind that none of you understand the dynamics at play.”
Summer scrunched her face. “What does that even mean?”
“It means we only put up with Edison and his Trading Post bullshit because of Frost. Now that they’re both out of the way, it’s time to take what’s rightfully ours.”
“Lipton?”
“No, everything. The silo. The tech. The food stores. The fuel. The weapons. Everything.”
Dice laughed before he spoke. “You don’t really think what happened at the Trading Post was an accident, do you? Some random Scab attack?”
Summer held for a moment, then asked, “That was you guys?”
Dice laughed. “Of course it was. How else do you think we knew to bring the repellent spray?”
Fletcher nodded. "You people are far too trusting of random events, when they are nothing even close to random.”
Dice continued, “We knew Frost was planning to take out Edison that day, so we arranged a little stampede of our own. As a diversion, to keep Frost occupied while we moved to take him out.”
Summer held for a moment before responding. “The Scabs? How?”
“With a little help from a friend.”
“Someone in our camp?”
“No. Again, not even close,” Dice said.
Fletcher looked at Dice and raised an eyebrow before returning his focus to Summer. “One way or the other, Edison and Frost were finished that day.”
“It was time for new leadership and a new set of rules,” Dice added. “And none of it involved monthly meets at the Trading Post or any of that nonsense.”
“Now we’re going to deal with Carr,” Fletcher said, bringing his eyes around to the biggest man in the group. “Go find her, Boone. End this once and for all.”
“It’s about Goddamn time, Fletch.”
“Take wonder boy there with you. Carr will get the message.”
CHAPTER 40
Krista finished lashing Lipton to the steering wheel of the truck, pulling the ends of the paracord tight in a double knot. “That should do it.”
“You can’t just leave me here,” Lipton said, his eyes round and flared as she took a step back, leaving the door of the vehicle open.
“The hell I can’t.”
“You’re supposed to protect me.”
“Maybe in the dream world you live in.”
“I heard Summer tell you that I’m supposed to be kept safe at all costs.”
Krista held for a moment, running the conversation with Summer through her mind. “Nice try, Lipton, but you couldn’t have heard that. We were too far away. Not unless you can read lips.”
“Ah-ha,” the man said, his voice energized. “So I am right. You just confirmed it.”
“Shit,” Krista said, mad at herself for letting her lips slip. She checked her stock of ammo and made sure her pistol was ready to fire.
Lipton continued. “Come on, this isn’t right. If the Scabs attack, I’m a sitting duck.”
“Then maybe next time when someone is kind enough to take you in and protect you, you’ll do what you’re told and quit being such an asshole all the time.”
“I’m not an asshole.”
“Oh yeah, you are. Big time. In fact, I’ve never met anyone bigger.”
“What? Because I’m smarter than all of you combined? How is that my fault? I was born this way. I can’t help it if I’m surrounded by dullards with the collective IQ of a crayon.”
“You see, there you go again,” Krista said, shaking her head. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”
“What if you don’t come back? None of you? What am I supposed to do? Just sit here and starve to death because you think I’m an asshole? Really? How is any of that fair or just?”
“Oh, it’s just. And fair. And long overdue,” Krista replied. “Let’s face it, Lipton. Deep down in that big, fat brain of yours, you knew this was coming. It was only a matter of time.”
“Maybe in the dream world you live in,” Lipton shot back in a tone similar to what Krista had used when she said that same phrase. “Look, we have a critical meet with Blackstone. You need me. I’m the sole reason they’re coming here in the first place. Without me, you get nothing. How does that help you and your cause? Or anyone back at the silo?”
“Yeah, like I believe any of that bullshit for a second,” Krista said, turning and walking away.
If felt amazing not to have to look at the man’s face. Or listen to his incessant chatter. His voice was like a barrel of cats being pureed in a blender, making her want to take out a fork and jam it into his eye.
Summer may have given her a direct order to stay and protect Lipton at all costs, but this time the girl was wrong.
It was time to disobey orders, maybe for the first time since she’d enlisted with the Army, long before the volcanoes erupted and ruined everything.
“Hold it right there,” a man’s voice called out from somewhere ahead.
Krista snapped out of her thoughts and stopped her feet, then dropped into a one-kneed firing position, bringing her weapon up.
Two figures—both men—broke through the trees in single file formation, just to the left of the boulder shaped like a teardrop.
The guy in back was huge, at least six-four, with a chin covered in facial hair. The other one was smaller, blonde, and looked as though his hands were bound behind his back.
When they stepped closer, Krista realized the bigger one was missing sleeves and had a tattoo on his neck.
Plus she recognized the kid in front. It was Simms—with a gun trained on the back of his head.
If Simms was a prisoner, then so was Summer.
Shit.
And probably the rest of her people.
Double shit.
Or they were all dead.
Endless shit.
Krista took a moment to glance back at Lipton and the truck. She saw the scientist flailing about in the driver’s seat, trying to work himself free.
Total piece of shit.
Krista brought her attention forward. “That’s far enough.”
“Krista, it’s me. Simms,” the prisoner said after the man holding him pushed him forward in a stumble.
“You okay, Nick?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
“What about Summer?”
“Fletcher has her. And the others.”
“Put your gun down and raise your hands,” the big man said.
“Please, Krista. Do as Boone says. If you don’t do what they want, they’re going to kill Summer.”
“We just want Lipton,” Boone said. “Turn him over and the rest of you are free to go.”
“Shit. Shit. Shit,” Krista said, working the situation through her head. Somehow they’d found her and her
friends in the middle of nowhere, heading to a meet with some unknown group.
It didn’t make sense, but it didn’t change the fact that they were here. Now. Holding Simms. And apparently the others, too.
“Put your gun down and stand up slowly with your hands above your head. I’m not going to ask again,” Boone said, pulling Simms closer to the barrel of his weapon.
Krista held her position, not wanting to surrender to a threat. It would go against that which she stood for.
Boone continued, his voice even sterner than before. “Lipton, for the others. Simple enough. So what’s it going to be? Decide. Now.”
Her trigger finger was ready to shoot but her heart couldn’t go there. Not without more time and firepower. It would take lightning-quick aim and a perfectly placed bullet to kill the man before he could take out Simms. She knew she could do it, yet it was a gamble. A huge one.
The only other choice was to turn over Lipton in exchange for Summer and the rest, but it still didn’t sit right.
Especially since she didn’t have her own intel to rely upon.
Only what was standing in front of her.
She needed to shake things up, see if she could glean any additional information or change the balance of force.
Plus, giving up her weapon was a no-go for her. “Go ahead and shoot him. That kid means nothing to me.”
“Wait. Wait. Wait,” Simms said, his voice charged with energy.
Boone pushed Simms to the ground and levered a boot into the kid’s back, standing with his arm out and pistol aimed in a downward trajectory. “Need I remind you that when Fletcher hears the gunshot, he’ll execute the rest of your group? Summer included. You have three seconds to surrender.”
“He’s serious, Krista. They’re gonna kill everybody. Please, just do as he says,” Simms said. “Lipton’s not worth it.”
“Three . . . Two . . .” Boone said in a measured tone, cocking the hammer on his weapon.
Krista let out the breath she’d been holding and got to her feet, then put her hands above her head. “Okay. Okay. I surrender.”
Silo Page 21
