Nuclear Survival: Western Strength (Book 3): Make The Cut

by Tate, Harley

He stuck a meaty hand out in her direction. “Give it over.”

  Lainey pulled back. “Not until I see the gas.”

  Tyler scoffed. “I’ve had just about enough of you and your boyfriend there. You hand me that money and you can walk out of here.”

  “Come on now, Tyler, you don’t need to act like that,” Jim cautioned. “If she has money, we can make a deal.” Lainey smiled at him and pulled her hand back, ready to ignore the younger employee and talk to the boss. As she turned, Tyler reached out and grabbed her by the wrist. His fingers dug into her flesh, squeezing until she yelped.

  “Let me go!”

  She tugged, trying in vain to get away, but he only dug his dirty fingernails deeper into her skin and pulled her closer. Her heels dragged across the concrete.

  “Give me that money!” He tried to dig the dollar bills out of her palm, but Lainey gripped them tight. He sneered as she struggled. “Maybe if you won’t give me the money, you’ll give me something else.” His eyes roved down the length of her body and fear bloomed in Lainey’s chest. She reached beneath her shirt and grabbed the revolver, tugging it out of her waistband and pointing it at the man as he ogled her body.

  “Let. Me. Go.”

  “Like you know how to use that. It’s not even ready to fire.”

  Lainey used her thumb to cock the gun. “I said let me go.”

  “I’d do what the young lady says, Tyler.” Jim’s words came out low and calm. “If she can steal my gun, she can probably shoot it.”

  After another moment of hesitation, Tyler finally released his hold on Lainey’s wrist. She stepped back and brought her other hand up to support the gun. “I’m sorry, but we really need some gas. Do you have a spare can?”

  “We do.”

  “You aren’t seriously going to hand it over, are you?” Tyler stared open-mouthed at his boss.

  “Usually when someone points a gun at me or my employees, I do what they say.”

  Lainey exhaled. Maybe they would get out of this without any bloodshed. “We just need some gas and then we’ll leave you alone.”

  “There’s a five-gallon can on the other side of that Buick over there. Should be full.”

  “Find it,” she directed Owen. He hurried over to the vehicle and ducked around the front fender. He held up a red plastic gas can a moment later. “Feels full.”

  Five gallons wasn’t a full tank, but it could get them fifty miles at least. Far enough to hopefully find a place willing to sell. With any luck they could leave Yermo before nightfall.

  She lowered the weapon. “We’ll get out of your way.”

  Jim nodded without saying a word. Owen stood hugging the gas can to his chest, waiting on the edge of the sunlight. As Lainey crossed the warehouse to meet him, Tyler charged. She spun in time to see him lift what appeared to be a massive wrench into the air. He planned to strike. She fell back, landing hard on her butt on the concrete.

  “Tyler, stop!” The older man called out, but it was no use. The younger man kept coming.

  Lainey pointed the gun at his chest. The wrench sailed through the air in a vicious arc, powered by the force of Tyler’s oversized frame. Lainey didn’t have a choice. The thick, knobby head of the tool was coming straight for her head.

  She brought the gun up and pulled the trigger. It kicked in her hands, but her aim was true. Tyler stumbled. The wrench clattered to the ground a few inches from her hip. His hands reached up to his chest as he sagged to his knees before landing face-first on the floor.

  Lainey scrambled backward with Owen helping lift her up to stand. She stared in horror at the blood oozing out into a pool around the man she’d just killed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

  Jim’s eyes flicked from Tyler’s body to Lainey. “You better get out of here before the cops get here.”

  “They won’t be coming.” Owen held onto Lainey’s arm with one hand and the gas can with the other.

  “They will as soon as I call them.”

  Owen began to argue, but Lainey pulled him back. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

  “He wasn’t a friend. Just an employee.”

  “All the same. I didn’t want to. He just came at me.”

  Jim nodded once. “I’m walking back to my office to report the shooting. You should have about a ten-minute head start.”

  Lainey paused. “Thank you.” Without another word, she turned and followed Owen out into the blinding light. A pair of vehicles sat in the dirt outside the warehouse. A shiny white F-150 and a beat up Toyota Corolla with a missing hubcap. She pointed. “Which one you think is Tyler’s?”

  Owen reached for the door handle to the Corolla and tugged open the driver’s door. “Key’s in the ignition.”

  Lainey exhaled in relief and opened the passenger door before falling into the seat. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Do you think the cops will really come looking?”

  “I have no idea. But as soon as we get back, we siphon the tank and dump this clunker somewhere.”

  Owen nodded and shifted into drive, easing through now-open chain-link fence, onto the road, and back the way they came.

  Chapter Eight

  KEITH

  Bonnie Rae’s Diner

  Yermo, CA

  Friday, 3:00 p.m. PST

  “They’re late.” Keith glanced at his watch for the ninety-seventh time in the past hour. He had practically snapped the strap off as he worked it back and forth between his fingers. All he could think about was Lainey and Owen out on the streets of this small desert town, putting their lives at risk when it should be him.

  As he leaned forward to peer out the last unobstructed window, the duct tape wrapped around his leg pulled against the wound and he gritted his teeth against the pain. The vodka sat across the table and he reached for it, hand lingering on the cap. No. A clear head would serve him better than a foggy, pain-free one.

  Jerry stood on a ladder tacking a blanket knitted with the face of Marilyn Monroe to the window. Over the course of the past few hours, the diner had been transformed into a strange combination of antiquated sleepover and end-of-the-world kitsch.

  Keith ran a hand down his face. “You really think any of this will hold them back?”

  Jerry turned and regarded him for a moment. “No, but it might slow them down or make them second-guess their decision to attack.”

  Keith huffed out a breath. “We don't even know if they’re coming back.” He focused on the tabletop, running his thumb along a crack in the Formica. “For all we know, they’re long gone.”

  “Do you really believe that?” Jerry tacked another corner of the blanket over the window. “More importantly, do you want to take that chance?”

  “No.” Jerry was right. As much as Keith hated to admit it, they didn't know anything. He couldn't even pick his assailant out of a lineup. He checked his watch again. “If they aren’t back in fifteen minutes, we should go looking.”

  “You mean I should go looking.” Jerry climbed down from the ladder and wiped his palms on his jeans. “You won't get very far with your leg, even if you are hopped up on pain pills and liquor.”

  Keith shifted in the seat and Bear nuzzled his good leg. The dog sat beside him all day, keeping him company and barking whenever he tried to do too much. Screw that. It was time to get to work. Keith braced his hands on the table and stood. Bear whined, but Keith shushed him with a shake of his head. “It’s okay, buddy. I'll be fine.”

  “You should listen to that dog. He knows what's good for you.”

  Keith waved Jerry off. “I can't sit here and do nothing. Lainey and Owen are out there alone.”

  “They can take care of themselves. That girl of yours isn't an invalid.”

  “She isn't my girl.”

  Jerry raised an eyebrow. “Could have fooled me.”

  Keith took a step and the pain radiated up his leg, but it was bearable. The duct tape held the wound together and he stepped forward, testing out his mobility. The ta
pe cut an ordinary stride in half and tugged on the flesh trying to knit itself back together, but it stayed in place.

  After hobbling over to the diner entrance, Keith peered out through the small window in the door. No sign of Lainey or Owen. The van still sat out front, flanked by the El Camino and the Buick. All out of gas. Keith thought about Lainey’s mother and sister and wondered when she would hear from Midge. He hated to think the worst, but the chances of finding Lainey’s mother alive were slim. Deep down, he thought Lainey knew that, but so far she hadn't said a word.

  As he stared out the window, an old sedan separated from the dust. It headed straight down the road toward the diner. As it neared, Keith could make out two people inside hunched against the glare of the afternoon sun. “We've got company,” he called out to Jerry.

  “What kind?”

  “Don't know.” The car came closer and Keith exhaled. “It's Lainey and Owen. They found a car.”

  Keith opened the door, balancing on his good leg as relief flooded his muscles. The sight of Lainey alive and uninjured brought a wave of unexpected emotion. Ever since the threat materialized, he’d been downplaying what he felt every time he saw her. She was more than an ex-girlfriend. More than the one who got away. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him and it took the end of the world for him to see it.

  She slammed the door to the battered Toyota and hurried up to meet him. Her eyes glittered in the afternoon sun, bright blue and full of hope and excitement. “The car has almost a full tank and we've got a five gallon gas can, too.”

  Owen rounded the front of the vehicle, lugging the oversized plastic can in his arms. He hoisted it up for Keith to see. “This should get us most of the way to Vegas, shouldn't it?”

  Keith nodded. “It's a good start.” He turned back to Lainey. “I was beginning to worry.”

  “We had a bit of a hiccup, but everything’s okay now.”

  Owen cut Lainey a glance. Whatever happened, it was more than a hiccup. But Keith couldn’t take the time to press the issue. Right now they needed to change tack and prepare to leave. He turned back inside and hobbled his way into the main dining room. “You can stop battening down the hatches. They found gas.”

  Jerry stood beside the blanket-covered windows. “How much?”

  Lainey eased past Keith. “Enough to reach Vegas. Maybe more.”

  Jerry wiped the sweat off his brow as he turned to survey his handiwork they wouldn’t use. “I hope whoever shows up appreciates the decor.”

  They all set to work, Keith gathering what he could with his bum leg, while the rest of them did the heavy lifting. Within a few hours, they had loaded the van with all the remaining edible food, weapons, clothes, blankets, and anything else useful, and siphoned the gas from the Toyota.

  Keith stood by the life-size Betty Boop waiting for Lainey. She emerged from the store carrying a Yermo, California snow globe. She shook it and grains of sand danced around a desert landscape instead of snow.

  “Never thought you were the collecting sort.”

  She shrugged. “It's for my mom. She always got me something from everywhere she traveled. No reason I can't return the favor.”

  Keith nodded but said nothing, doubt still clouding his optimism where her mother was concerned.

  They all piled into the vehicle, Lainey driving, Keith in the passenger seat, Jerry, Owen, Bear, and the cat in the rear. As they pulled away from the diner with the gas tank full, Keith leaned back in the seat. The sun turned the sky a brilliant shade of pink and purple as it set in the west and Lainey turned onto I-15 headed north to Las Vegas.

  It didn’t take long for the sun to dip beneath the mountains and for the sky to darken. Lainey clicked on the headlights and everyone else tried to sleep. After an hour of restless tossing about, Keith rubbed his eyes and straightened up.

  “Can’t sleep?”

  He shook his head. “Every bump in the road and I wake up convinced I’ve ripped open this stupid gash.” He was so mad at himself. First for falling to begin with, then wrecking the wound closure, then lacking the ability to work through the pain. “I shouldn’t be hung up over this.”

  Lainey glowered at him for a moment before bringing her eyes back to the road. “Of course you should. It’s a three-inch long gash in your leg. If that glass had hit a major artery, you’d be dead. Don’t apologize for being in pain. It’s only human.”

  He shifted and stared out at the dark expanse of highway. Since nightfall, they had encountered no one on the road. The desert stretched on and on all around them and if Keith closed his eyes, he could pretend they were merely on a long-distance assignment for KSBF. Not fleeing one bomb only to drive into the remains of another.

  He glanced behind him. Owen leaned back against the side of the van, sleeping with the cat curled up in his arm. Jerry hunkered down on the floor with his head resting on the bench seat and Bear snuggled at his feet. It wasn’t the best means of travel, but they all fit inside and they still had the satellite. It would connect them with the outside world beyond the United States.

  He hated to admit that Canada was their best opportunity for long-term survival, but the more they witnessed of America outside of Los Angeles, the more he knew it was true.

  He turned back to the front and Lainey. She’d avoided talking about whatever happened while out looking for gas. With everyone sleeping, maybe she would talk now. “So are you ever going to tell me about what happened today?”

  Lainey’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “You don’t need to know.”

  “I’m asking all the same.”

  She reached into the pocket of the door and pulled out a revolver. He held out his hand and she laid in on his waiting palm. Keith turned it over. A little thirty-eight special. Shop owners usually kept those for self-defense. “Where did you find it?”

  She hesitated.

  “Come on, Lainey. Whatever happened, happened. I just want to know.”

  She relaxed her grip and exhaled. “We found a service station of sorts for cars and trucks in a warehouse on the side of the road. Owen and I broke in. We figured no one would be working today, but we were wrong. The owner and one of his employees showed up while we were still there.” She frowned. “It got tense.”

  Keith pressed her. “Tell me.”

  “The owner was reasonable. He was going to give us that gas can in exchange for all of my cash.” Her voice cracked on the last word. “But the younger guy, the employee, he didn’t like it. He grabbed me and tried to take the money. He threw me to the floor and I—”

  “You shot him.”

  She nodded.

  “Kill him?”

  “I think so.”

  “Oh, Lainey, I’m so sorry. I should have been there.” Keith hated that he didn’t protect her. He should have been the one to go scouting and risk his life for a few gallons of gas. Not her. “You did the right thing.”

  He stared at her as she drove, this beautiful woman forced to take charge in a world turned upside down. He needed to tell her how he felt. She needed to know that whatever happened with her mom and sister and a possible escape to Canada, that he would be by her side. Not because she asked him to, but because it’s where he belonged.

  “Lainey, I—”

  She slowed the van.

  Keith turned to the front. A cluster of cars blocked the ramp leading north. “What’s going on?”

  “The exit is blocked. I was going to go around Las Vegas, but I can’t even get off the highway.” She pointed at the crunch of cars blocking the exit that would lead them around the city center. “There’s only one way through.” She turned to him, expression grim. “We have to go into the city.”

  Chapter Nine

  LAINEY

  I-15 North

  Las Vegas, NV

  Friday, 11:00 p.m. PST

  I’m never going to make it. Lainey gripped the steering wheel with both hands, knuckles white from the strain. Keith sat beside her as steady as a
rock despite the terror building up inside her. “The van is too big and the spaces are too small.” She edged through another accident, trying to thread her way down I-15 as it inched ever closer to the heart of Las Vegas. She glanced at Keith. “What if we exit?”

  He flipped through the map of all fifty states, shaking his head in obvious frustration. “It only shows the highways. It doesn’t even have an inset showing Vegas. Apart from I-15, I can’t direct us through.”

  Owen and Jerry still slept in the back of the van, but they wouldn’t stay that way for long. Bear nosed his way between the seats, his front paws resting once again on the console. Keith ran a hand through his fur. “It’s okay, buddy. We’ll be fine.”

  Lainey wished it were that simple. She cranked the wheel as the headlights illuminated a multi-car pileup stretching across the entire highway. She bumped over the rumble strip and slowed, side mirror scratching along the Jersey barrier as she inched past a pickup truck with a crumpled hood and blown-out tire.

  She shook her head in growing irritation. “I don’t understand. Why are there so many accidents? Las Vegas isn’t big enough to have been hit with a bomb.”

  “Think about it.” Keith shut the map in his lap. “It’s a huge tourist destination. Everyone here is from somewhere else. As soon as the news broke out, it had to be chaos. All these people trying to get home to their families. They had to be clogging the roads, opting for Ubers and Lyfts, even buses and rental cars. Anything that would get them home.”

  He glanced out the window at another accident. “Then there’s all the foreigners. So much money flows into Vegas from Asia. Think about all the people vacationing from halfway around the world when the bombs deployed. All those people were stranded too. I should have thought about that earlier.”

  He turned to her. “I’m actually surprised it’s not worse.”

  The thought didn’t comfort Lainey. She drove past a limo T-boned by a Suburban. Windows shattered, tires shredded. Up ahead, a tractor trailer was crushed against the beginnings of an overpass, blocking the entire roadway. “It’s totally jammed.” Lainey slowed as she passed a sign for the exit pointing toward downtown.