The Abandon Series | Book 2 | These Times of Retribution

by Schow, Ryan

  The passenger said, “I took a few, back in Iraq.”

  “Where in Iraq?”

  “Fallujah.”

  “That was a mess,” Garrity said, realizing the kid wasn’t a kid after all. He could be in his mid-twenties.

  “No need to tell me about it. I did two tours in the sand.”

  “What about you?” Garrity asked the driver.

  “I did time in the joint. Didn’t mean to, but I got in a fight with a guy and he died in it.”

  “Did he have a heart attack?” Garrity asked.

  The man looked over the seat and he said, “I killed him.”

  “Alright, then,” Garrity said, measuring the two of them. “If we see these guys harassing good folks, I’m gonna put them down and I want you to have my back.”

  “So if other bad people accidentally get killed along the way?” the driver asked. “Guys you didn’t legally shoot, but maybe, in the spirit of backing you up, they got shot from either of us?”

  Garrity said, “These are the times for that.”

  “The times for what?” the passenger asked, looking back at him.

  “These are the times of abandon, the times of retribution.”

  “I like that,” the driver said. “Retribution.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Leighton McDaniel

  When Leighton McDaniel woke up, the boy was curled into her, keeping her warm. Or was she keeping him warm?

  “Buck,” she said, lightly shaking him. He opened his eyes, looked around, almost seemed embarrassed by how close he was to her. “It’s okay, you’re safe.”

  He nodded but didn’t speak. The fact that she couldn’t hear him and he didn’t bother trying to speak to her seemed to work in both their favors.

  They scooted around, bumping arms, legs, and bodies as they crawled out of bed and into the bitter cold. Buck held himself against the chill; Leighton’s skin was peppered with goosebumps.

  In the living room, Kenley was making a fire. The redhead was half asleep by the look of her, and fully in her pain. The front door opened and Hudson walked in with a stack of wood in his arms.

  Morning, he said.

  Leighton nodded, graced him with the start of a smile. Unfortunately, her lips were too cold to give him a more welcoming look.

  The tall, good-looking former Golden Gloves fighter had a grace about him she respected. He reminded her of her father when he was a little younger. When she looked at him, however, she did not see her father as much as she saw what they’d done. Mass murder.

  But this was war, she told herself.

  War.

  Hudson stacked the chopped wood in a metal bin by the stove, then looked at Kenley and said, What can I help you with?

  As soon as the stove heats up, she said, referring to the wood-burning stove, we can heat the water. Ramira said she’s going to make oatmeal, but you may have to do it.

  If Ramira is making it, why would I need to do it? Hudson asked.

  Leighton was following the conversation with her eyes but trying not to be too obvious about it.

  Because she was crying all night, Kenley whispered. Why else do you think?

  Leighton looked away, not wanting to interrupt or be reminded of Niles’s death. Like Ramira, she had cried herself to sleep thinking of him, how close they had become, how they were planning a life together, how all that was cut short.

  When she wasn’t crying over Niles, she was thinking about Buck’s father, how they killed him, what he did to those girls. They must have been so scared and in so much pain as he beat them to death. It was too hard to even contemplate.

  When she wasn’t crying over Niles or trying to work through the feelings surrounding Buck’s father, she had been tossing and turning, sleeping fitfully. Her dreams were not of the losses she sustained or the losses of others, but of fire, screaming, men shooting at her, her shooting and killing these same men.

  She’d been deaf when she, Kenley, and Hudson went after the vermin at the fire station in Silver Grove, but in her dreams, she heard them perfectly. She heard the crackling flames, the constant booming sounds of gunfire, the shrill screaming…oh my God…the screaming!

  When she found herself waking in a fit in the dead of night, it was to Buck’s body against hers, and a harsh chill where his body wasn’t pressed into hers. She tried pulling the blankets tighter around them, but the cold burrowed into her bones and began to both crystalize and deaden the feeling in her face.

  Now, awake and trying to figure out what to do for the day, Buck held onto Leighton’s shirt, standing just behind her. She felt good having him near, for some reason. She didn’t think it was any kind of maternal instinct; perhaps it was just her knowing there were others out there who had worse things happen to them. This was a reminder to push through the pain, find the path ahead, and take that first step. Step one was to stop feeling sorry for yourself. Step two was to not be alone in your pain.

  Ramira walked into the kitchen looking tired, the bags under her eyes as heavy as Leighton had ever seen them. She went to Leighton and kissed her cheek—something she’d never done before.

  Good morning, she said into her face so that Leighton could read her lips.

  “Good morning, Ramira,” Leighton said.

  Will appeared moments later, his face wan, his mouth turned down. They had lost their only son, she lost her first true love, Kenley lost her father, and Hudson lost his wife. Turning, looking down at Buck, knowing he lost his father, too, she thought of him as different. A little boy who had been pulled from the fiery bowels of hell. His father was a monster, a serial killer, likely a rapist. She wanted to know what the boy was thinking, feeling, wanting. Was he afraid, or did the world look safe compared to where he’d come from? He was the only one who shouldn’t feel broken, but he didn’t look happy about anything. He was like an expressionless animal.

  Morning, Leighton, Will said when he looked up at her.

  She smiled. “Hi, Will. Did you get any sleep?”

  He frowned and shook his head.

  “Yeah, same,” she said.

  The truth was, aside from the emotional torment, the insides of her thighs and butt cheeks were chaffed and hurting. It stung just having skin at that point. But she wasn’t going to lament her woes. She had to go back to the dorms. If she knew her father—which she did quite well—he would wait a few days to see if things changed, and then he’d come for her. Faith would come too, for the two of them had proved to be inseparable over the years.

  But they wouldn’t have a working car. Would he come after her on the motorcycle? Maybe. Would he leave Faith behind? Probably not. He’d be worried—conflicted, for sure—but when he got a working vehicle, when it was safe to travel, would he come for her? For Rowan? For Marley? She believed he would, which was why she needed to get back to the dorms, even if her skin wore thin and started bleeding in the process. Everything heals, right?

  “Do you have any baby powder?” she asked Kenley on a whim.

  For?

  “Walking,” she said.

  My dad kept some Gold Bond in the medicine cabinet. It’s old, though.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  Why do you need that? Ramira asked as she measured a few cups of oats into a few cups of potable water.

  “I’m going back to the dorms to wait for my father.”

  What about him? Hudson asked about Buck as he stoked the fire. The wood-burning stove was already starting to warm. She moved closer to it, nearly sighed as the heat rolled over her otherwise cold skin.

  “He can decide what he wants to do,” she said.

  She felt a tug at her leg, causing her to look down. He was looking up at her, eyes wide. Can I go with you? he asked.

  She smiled and said, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  He looked back down, content.

  “That’s settled then.”

  Where do you live? Hudson asked.

  “Nicholasville, on a farm.” />
  Big house, small house? Kenley asked.

  “Big house,” she said. Then: “Big enough for all of us, if you want to come.”

  How will we get there? Hudson asked. Because my home is just fine.

  “They burned Silver Grove down,” Leighton reminded him.

  Maybe we can head back and I can check on it.

  We can’t go, Will said, concerned. We need to bury Niles.

  Leighton had been thinking about that all night. “Before we go, I want to help dig the grave,” she said. “And I want us to have a service. I want this for Kenley’s father, too.”

  Will nodded. So did Ramira. Niles’s mother said, Our boy was lucky to have you. To Kenley, she said, “We would be honored to hold a service for your father, too. He would be proud of you.”

  Her eyes began to water. She nodded her head, then thanked Ramira.

  After oatmeal, to Will and Ramira, Kenley said, Hudson told me you lost your house.

  Will nodded, the reality of it all over his face. Kenley started crying, which got Leighton crying.

  If you want to bury Niles here, she said with what looked like a hiccupping sob, and if you want to take the house, I want you to have it. That way you’ll have a home, and you’ll be close to Niles, too.

  You’re leaving? Ramira asked.

  I lost my mother in this house, and now Dad’s gone, too, Kenley said. I can’t be here anymore.

  “You can come with us,” Leighton said to Kenley. “My dad will like you. My mom, too.”

  I was in love with Niles, Kenley admitted, watching Leighton to see how she would feel. Leighton was taken aback by this. Not now, but growing up.

  “I’m in love with him now,” Leighton said. “I didn’t know him back then.”

  He was a good boy, Ramira said.

  Will nodded his head, wiped his eyes, then looked away. Leighton watched him clench his jaw, his body shuddering as he fought off the grief.

  “Would you want to come with us?” Leighton asked. “Because, if this is an EMP, then we will need to form a community. You can’t be lone wolves in these times.”

  She saw Hudson snapping his fingers. When she looked at him, he said, What do you know about these times?

  “The same as you,” she said. “Which is nothing.”

  I wouldn’t say that.

  “Fine, I know what this is, what this means. This is us under attack. Meaning an enemy is not far behind.”

  This was an attack on America? Ramira asked, like she hadn’t even considered it before now. I guess that makes sense.

  Will held her hand while she sat there looking stunned.

  This is a rural property, Kenley said. It should be safe here, better than being in the cities.

  Kenley, please stay here with us, Will said. You don’t want to be out there on the roads, not with everything you’ve seen. Not with…what happened here.

  She shook her head and said, I can’t, but thank you.

  You should come with us, Hudson told Kenley.

  She nodded and said, I’m going to.

  We can’t walk that far, Ramira said to Will, like she thought he might be considering it.

  That’s why you need to stay here, Kenley said. Why I want you to stay here. Make something good of this house. For me, it’s only brought me heartache. Looking around, I feel it in the walls. But you could make it your home.

  An hour later, Kenley showed Will and Leighton the shed in back. They grabbed shovels and gloves, then headed out back to a plot of earth near a big shade tree. The soil was easy to turn, and the views were beautiful.

  Leighton and Will were making good time when Hudson and Kenley joined them with a pickaxe and another shovel. Ramira and Buck sat on a nearby bench, watching. When they finished digging one grave, they started on the second. When both graves had been dug, the men brought both Niles and Jacob to their respective plots, then lowered them inside.

  Can we just say silent prayers for them? Kenley asked.

  Will looked at Ramira. She nodded that it was okay. Will then looked over at Leighton, who nodded as well. Finally, he looked at Kenley who also gave a stoic nod.

  Leighton’s heart shook with pain, the pinch of tears straining eyes that were already cried out, already raw. Any minute now, the grief was going to break loose inside of her and she would crumble before these virtual strangers.

  She closed her eyes to pray, to honor Niles, to remember his touch, the love she saw in his eyes, the safety she felt when he wrapped her in his arms. Waves of grief battered the shores of her soul, eating away at her resolve, depleting her of her precious energy.

  Leighton didn’t expect the little hand to take hers, but it did. She opened her eyes, glanced down, and saw Buck standing beside her. His bright eyes were squeezed shut in honor of these two men he never met. It was sad and cute, touching in ways she couldn’t describe. This little boy was a Godsend, and the longer she thought about it, the more she felt that meeting him was fortuitous.

  Will was the first to shovel a scoop of dirt onto Niles’s body. It took her by surprise. Knowing they were now folding Niles into the earth, knowing she was never going to see him again, the sob she’d managed to restrain finally broke loose inside of her, her mouth opening in a pained, silent wail.

  She let go of Buck’s hand. Tears flooded her eyes, the dam finally letting go. She wiped her eyes, told herself to keep it together. Then, when Buck leaned over and grabbed a handful of dirt, when he tossed it onto Niles’s body, and then on Jacob, she drew a deep breath and managed to regain her composure.

  Bending over, she took a scoop of earth into her hands, stood over Niles’s body, and said, “The next world is going to love you, just as much as I do now.”

  She tossed the dirt inside, the soil landing on the tarp wrapping his body. Paralyzed, unable to move, the second wave of grief hammered her and she started to cry again.

  Movement caught her eye.

  She glanced up in time to see Ramira coming to her. The woman wrapped her arms around her, held her tight. Leighton didn’t want to let go. Will joined them, hugging the two women. From the corner of her eye, she saw Kenley staring down into her father’s grave. The ginger had a cold, stricken look, like she didn’t know how to process all of this. Leighton watched her body bow, and her shoulders begin to tremble. When she started to cry, Hudson went and pulled her into his embrace. She turned away from the grave, held onto Hudson as if her life depended on it.

  When Leighton let go and wiped her eyes, Will and Ramira hugged Kenley, who looked like she appreciated the gesture.

  Before leaving, Hudson shook Will’s hand and said, I’m so sorry for your loss. Leighton watched Hudson with Niles’s parents, thinking he seemed like a good guy. She hoped he wouldn’t stay at his house and let her, Kenley, and Buck walk back to NKU by themselves.

  When they finally said good-bye, Leighton set out on foot, her backpack on tight, her gun close, her emotions half reigned in and half chaotic. She tried to lead the way, but Hudson wanted to walk with her, so she slowed down and decided she wanted to take up the rear where she could be alone with her thoughts. Eventually, Kenley and Buck walked together, and Hudson led, which was fine by her.

  As they approached Silver Grove, they saw a horrifying scene. The town was burned to a crisp, roasted bodies lying everywhere. When they reached the fire station, it looked like only the bricks remained. There were charred bodies everywhere.

  “We’re going to be okay,” she said to Buck.

  He looked up at her. I know.

  When they were close enough to the fire station, she tried to cover Buck’s eyes. She didn’t want him seeing that. To her surprise, though, he shoved her hand away, then broke into a run, heading right for the nearest corpse.

  “Buck!” she cried, going after him.

  He changed direction, then ran into the fire station’s driveway where dozens of blackened bodies lay. Around several of them, there was dried splatter, along with chunks of brain th
at had been blackened to a crisp. She hurried after him, as did Kenley.

  They’d left so many bodies out there, so many of them dead and cooked. It hurt Leighton’s heart to see what they had done. These were humans once. Souls in bodies destined for a future that did not include a massacre by fire. But this was their future. You hurt others, she thought to herself, you get hurt back.

  Kenley grabbed Buck’s arm, but he shrugged her off as he stood over one of the bodies. The man was charred from the knees up. From the knees down, however, the fires had gone out, leaving two perfectly formed legs.

  Buck touched his foot to the man’s charred head, the ash crumbling. Leighton closed her eyes, her brain starting to break. Her inability to hear anything blocked out the sounds of whatever was going on among them.

  After a moment, she opened her eyes again only to see Kenley and Hudson holding Buck down. He was thrashing around, screaming, his little feet dusted black from stomping the body, which was pretty much destroyed down to the now exposed knee joints.

  Buck was looking at her, eyes wet, tortured. She went to the three of them, moving Hudson and Kenley aside.

  “Let me have him,” she said.

  Kenley and Hudson let go, standing back. Buck stopped thrashing around. She picked him up, held him tight, felt him calming down.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

  He turned his head toward her, hugged her a little tighter.

  A finger tapped her shoulder. She turned and saw Hudson. Let’s go to my house. It’s not far from here, and we can clean him up.

  They walked a few blocks, passing entire rows of homes burned to the concrete foundation, the ash of them piled high. So many memories, all of them having gone up in smoke.

  All along the road were the dead bodies the Hayseed Rebellion—or whoever this offshoot of scumbags had been—had slaughtered.

  Hudson turned a corner, slowed down, then stopped in front of a house that was nothing but ash and foundation. Hudson walked toward it, slowly, kicking aside the debris. Kenley went and stood by him. She didn’t say anything. She merely took him into her arms the way he’d taken her when she was standing over her father’s grave.