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by Kyle Danvers

  “I dropped out of college and joined the service. My dad wasn’t pleased,” Ashley said.

  “Why not? I don’t see anything wrong with that,” Joel said.

  “Well, he was in the service himself, fought in Vietnam, and he didn’t exactly want that same life for his little girl. Then again, I was never the good little girl he wanted,” she said.

  “Hence all the tattoos?” Joel asked, and Ashley laughed.

  “Something like that, yeah,” she admitted.

  “He must’ve been proud of you at some level though, right? For following in his footsteps?” Joel asked.

  “He might’ve been if I hadn’t gotten discharged,” Ashley said, her heart dropping as the words left her mouth.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Joel said.

  “It’s fine; you couldn’t have,” Ashley said and paused, savoring the wind in her hair. “You know, when you’re on the battlefield, even as a medic, you see shit, shit you just can’t unsee. It messes with you, makes you unable to do things you could do without problems before,” Ashley said.

  “Is that why you were so upset about what happened in the woods?” Joel asked.

  “Yeah,” Ashley admitted. “Somehow, I don’t think he’d be proud of that either.”

  “He doesn’t have to know, but if he was in Vietnam, I’m sure he’d understand,” Joel said.

  “Maybe, but he’s never been the understanding type,” Ashley said.

  “Where does he live?”

  “Ventura,” Ashley answered. She observed Joel’s face, trying to gauge what he might make of that. It wasn't in Los Angeles proper, and she wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d assumed she was going to dump out on him once they got there.

  “Does that mean what I think it means?” he asked. He didn’t seem angry, though. He wore a smile, a little half smirk, and despite herself, Ashley found it kind of cute.

  “That depends on what you think it means,” she said.

  “Are you coming with me all the way to the city?” he asked. “I would understand if you didn’t. Hell, if I didn’t have family there myself, I wouldn’t be making the journey.”

  “I don’t know,” Ashley answered honestly. “My house is in LA, but I rent, so it’s not like it’s worth going back to it. I’m sure it’s been ransacked by now anyway.” There was no sense in lying about it. The thought had crossed her mind, about whether or not it was worth following Joel all the way to the end. But if this situation was what he said it was and if things were never going to get any better, then what good would it do her to stay in Ventura or anywhere that wasn’t with him?

  It was amazing to her, but she felt infinitely safer with him than she would’ve felt on her own. She didn’t know him well at all, but she knew him better than anyone else currently in her life, and more than that, she could trust him.

  And more than that, Ashley liked him.

  “That’s fair,” Joel said. “Do you think…?”

  “I have no idea what to think, to be honest. I’m not holding my breath, but I have to know one way or the other,” Ashley answered.

  “I understand,” Joel said and fell silent.

  “What about you? What are you going to do if, you know…”

  “I can’t answer that. I really can’t,” Joel said. For the first time, sympathy flashed through Ashley’s stomach. She couldn’t fathom what it would be like to be in Joel’s shoes. He had a wife and two kids stranded in all this without him, he was hundreds of miles away from them, and there was nothing he could do.

  As helpless as Ashley felt, it paled in comparison to Joel’s situation. His family probably assumed he was dead, that they would never see them again. Joel probably had to assume the same of them.

  Whether or not she wanted it that way, they were stuck together. Somehow, though she couldn’t quite explain it, she determined that if, in fact, her father wasn’t around, if he’d fallen victim to all this, she would go with Joel.

  She didn’t owe him anything—she’d already more than paid her karma back by saving and treating him the way she had—but she couldn’t imagine not knowing what happened to him afterward, in the same way she couldn’t imagine not knowing what happened to her father.

  “I could use my wife’s help right about now,” Joel laughed.

  “What do you mean?” Ashley asked, confused.

  “She’s a therapist,” Joel said. Ashley laughed at that.

  “I think we could both use her help then,” she said, and Joel smiled at her. “What’s her name?”

  “Shelby. Shelby Baker,” Joel said, his eyes twinkling in the moonlight. Ashley’s heart plummeted into her stomach. It wasn’t possible; it couldn’t be. There had to be more than one therapist in the Los Angeles area named Shelby Baker; it couldn’t possibly be the same therapist she’d seen for the last year.

  “Are you okay?” Joel asked. Ashley felt like she might be sick, though she wasn’t sure if that was because of what he’d just said or if it was because of the motion of the boat.

  “I’m fine, really,” Ashley insisted. She scrambled to think of something to say, something to change the subject and get them as far away from that realization as possible. If in fact, it was the same Shelby Baker, her therapist who knew all her secrets, Ashley didn’t know what to do with that information. She didn’t know what that made things between her and Joel or what her obligation was to him.

  “What’s that sound?” Joel asked. Ashley perked up, listening carefully for whatever it was Joel might’ve heard. It was a soft sputtering, the kind of sound that suggested something was wrong with the boat. It wasn’t exactly the distraction she was looking for, but it would work, even if it didn’t bode well for them.

  “I think we’re out of gas,” Ashley said, and the color drained from Joel’s face.

  “Are you serious?” he asked, running forward to look at the gauge. Ashley didn’t need to see it to know it was true. The last time she’d looked it was so low that she was amazed they’d made it as far as they had.

  So when the boat’s engine whirred to a stop, and they cruised to a standstill in the water, Ashley wasn’t surprised. The only question she had was about what they would do next. They were stranded. Ashley could put down the anchor again, at least to keep the boat from drifting away in the current while they made a plan, but that wouldn’t help them move forward.

  “I’m serious,” Ashley said. “We have to go ashore.”

  “We can’t do that this far out. For Christ’s sakes, you’ve seen what I’ve seen; it’s not safe,” Joel said.

  “The whole world isn’t safe right now,” Ashley said. She wasn’t trying to be combative; she just needed Joel to see the truth of things. If he wanted to get to Los Angeles, if he wanted to find his family, he’d have to take a dose of his advice—things were only going to get worse.

  Ashley went to the back of the boat and flipped up the seat. Underneath, to her relief, there were several lifejackets, bright orange in the night. It wasn’t ideal, but at least the water would be cool enough for them to swim to shore—which was exactly what they’d have to do. There wasn’t a dinghy boat for them to paddle, so the only option was to swim.

  She pulled one of the lifejackets out and tossed it to Joel. He caught it in his good hand, stared down at it, and then stared back at her, his brow furrowed.

  “Swim? I can’t even fully use one of my arms, how am I supposed to swim?” Joel asked.

  “You’ll have to doggy paddle with your good hand and use your legs. I can’t carry you, even if I wanted to,” Ashley said. Without another word, she slipped one of the lifejackets over her head and buckled it into place, desperate to put some distance between them.

  “What about our stuff? If it gets wet, the food will be ruined,” Joel said.

  “Then we’ll just have to find new food, won’t we?” Ashley asked. She couldn’t afford to stop, couldn’t afford to contemplate the idea of defeat, because if she did she knew she would lie d
own and not get back up again. She had to keep pushing forward, and Joel had to do it too. Otherwise, they were both doomed.

  She slipped one of the lifejackets around her chest, grabbed her duffel bag from the floor by the side of the boat, and jumped into the water.

  19

  Nate couldn’t believe his eyes.

  It had to be the darkness, the basement that concealed everything. The body that laid just feet away from Nate, lifeless and shining in a pool of blood, couldn’t have been his mother.

  His feet had landed in the basement just a few seconds too late. He’d heard the shouting, heard the commotion going on from outside, and knew he had to get back in, but doing so proved much more difficult than he thought it would be.

  Now, however, as he stood frozen in place, watching people move around him in slow motion, he refused to believe what he saw. It just wasn’t possible.

  It wasn’t until another gunshot rang out, making him instinctively crouch down and cover his ears, that he roared back into reality. A scream, a female scream, tore through the basement as still more gunshots rang out, the flash from the barrel temporarily lighting up the room.

  Cass stood over another body, emptying the gun into it, and screaming over the noise. When the barrel was empty, no more bullets left to pump into the guy, Nate ran to her and put his hands on her shoulders. She whirled on him, her fist cocked, ready to swing, but her face softened when she realized it was him.

  “Nate,” she whispered, her voice cracking, tears in her eyes. Nate didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do to comfort her—or if he even should. Without another word, Nate went to their mother. She was lying on her side, her face turned toward the ground, and she wasn’t breathing.

  Nate reached out to her, shook her shoulder, praying it wasn’t what he thought it was. Shelby didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. The only noise was the scraping of her body against the cement floor. She was gone, dead by Cass’s hand, and Nate didn’t know what to make of that.

  “No, no, no,” the words poured out of his mouth without them even being conscious of it. This wasn’t supposed to happen; this wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. If Cass hadn’t been so stupid, hadn’t rushed across the street like some reckless Rambo, none of this would’ve happened. He didn’t want to blame her, didn’t want to say it was all her fault, but what else could he say?

  Because it was her fault. She didn’t have to squeeze the trigger, she didn’t have to have gone across the street, but she had. Then again, wasn’t it just as much his fault? If Nate had stopped her, hadn’t allowed her to go, things might’ve been different.

  But none of it mattered. Nate's mother was gone.

  “Mom!” Cass shouted, shaking her body violently. Still, there was no answer, but Cass didn’t seem to understand what was happening—or what had already happened. She screamed, her voice spilling out through the open window into the night, and Nate wrapped his arms around her. It wasn’t that he was trying to comfort her, it was more that he was trying to keep her quiet.

  Nate didn’t know whether or not these guys were alone. If they weren't, maybe Cass's screams didn’t matter because the gunfire would’ve gotten their attention, but Nate couldn’t be too cautious.

  “What are we going to do?” Cass asked, barely able to speak through her tears. Nate had no words, could hardly even think straight, much less come up with a plan. How could he plan for something like this? They were kids, teenagers, and now they were alone. They hadn’t seen or heard from their dad in days, and now their mom was… Nate couldn’t even think about it.

  “What the hell did you do?!” Nate shouted, his disbelief giving way to rage.

  “I didn’t mean to, Nate, you have to believe me! Nate?! Answer me!” Cass screamed. Nate wanted to believe her, wanted to give her the relief she obviously needed, but he couldn’t do it. If she hadn’t meant to then why had she pulled the trigger? He hadn’t seen it, couldn’t understand the chain of events.

  “He had her in his arms, he was going to hurt her, I couldn’t just stand there and not do anything,” Cass sobbed.

  The floorboards above creaked, freezing them both. They weren’t alone after all. Whoever these guys were, the guys who’d gotten his mother killed, they were part of a larger group. Cass looked at Nate; her face turned white with fear. She’d emptied the clip of bullets into both guys after their mother had fallen, so even if they wanted to defend themselves, they couldn’t.

  They had to flee.

  Wordlessly, Nate crouched by the window and put his hands down to boost Cass. She scrambled toward him, climbed up into his hands, and he hoisted her up. At the moment, he couldn’t stand the thought of even touching her after what she’d done, but he knew she was still his sister and he couldn’t just leave her behind.

  She wriggled out the window and stuck her hand back through to offer it to him. He could reach it, but he knew she wouldn’t be strong enough to pull them up, so he went to the nearby shelf and pushed it toward the window as once more footsteps echoed down the stairs.

  He’d just finished climbing up, had just shoved his shoulders through the window and onto the grass outside as the screams of whoever followed him pierced the basement in the darkness, along with a gunshot. As quickly as he could, Nate pulled his legs through the window, jumped to his feet, and ran hand-in-hand with Cass as fast as he could down the street.

  It was dark, so dark he could barely see a foot in front of him, but it didn’t matter where they ran. They just needed to get away, as fast as they could, and as far away as they could. Once they were safe, or relatively, they could stop and breathe, figure out where to go and what to do. As it stood, they had nothing more than the clothes on their backs, no food, no guns, nothing, and they were being chased by a group of people who apparently had no compunction about taking lives.

  At the end of the street, Nate skidded to a halt. A car was parked, idling, its driver side door wide open—with a horned devil spray-painted on its hood, the same one Nate had seen on the Humvee the day before.

  Were the guys who’d broken into the house the same ones who’d left the car here, and were they part of a gang or something? Had they found the body of their friend in Austin’s house and come looking for his killer—and left the car running to make a quick getaway in case things went awry?

  No one was around, or at least no one he could see. He yanked Cass back by the hand, making her yelp, and crouched down in the bushes by the side of the street. He listened, as clearly as he could, for any sounds—either of the people following him or of the driver of the car.

  Seconds passed, long, torturous seconds, and he heard nothing except for the low rumble of the car some few hundred feet away. They could make a run for it, dive right into the car, and peel away before anybody could stop them if they were lucky—but they hadn’t been fortunate so far.

  “What are you doing?” Cass asked.

  “What do you think? We’ve gotta get outta here, and that car is our one ticket out,” Nate said.

  “Are you crazy? It probably belongs to those psychos; they’ll kill us as soon as they see us near it,” Cass said.

  “We’re dead either fucking way, so what do we have to lose?” Nate whispered, and Cass let out a noise somewhere between a cry and a groan.

  “On the count of three, we’ll make a run for it. You go first, jump across the console into the passenger seat, and I’ll be right behind you,” Nate said. Cass looked him in the eye, silently begging him not to do this, to try to come up with some other way, but there was no other way. They couldn’t go back home. They had no home left.

  At least this way they would have a vehicle, some way to get the hell out of town and away from whoever these people were terrorizing the neighborhood. They could get out of the city, go out into the sticks somewhere, maybe try to find some people who knew what was happening and could keep them safe.

  It was a desperate plan, but so were the circumstances.

  “R
eady?” Nate asked. Though Cass cried, she nodded.

  “One, two, three!” Nate said and shoved Cass from behind, forcing her to run. She dashed across the street and dove into the open car door, Nate right behind her. He’d just closed the door and put the car in gear when he heard someone shouting and noise coming from the street.

  Nate didn’t hesitate. He slammed on the gas, making the tires squeal as they peeled off around the corner. Gunfire rang out, and the metal of the car shrieked, but it kept running. Nate kept the gas pressed all the way down, kept the vehicle moving as fast as possible away from his house and his dead mother.

  There was no going back.

  “Drive south,” Cass said.

  “What? Why?”

  “Just trust me,” Cass said. Nate didn’t see much reason to do that, but he couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. “Austin told me about a place before he left. I think it might be safe for us there.”

  “Are you serious? Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Nate shouted.

  “Because I didn’t know if it was real! I still don’t. It could just be bullshit, but where else are we going to go?”

  “Where is it?”

  “The Los Alamitos base,” Cass said. Nate couldn’t believe it. How had he not thought of that sooner? The joint forces base was less than an hour from their new house; he’d driven past it many times. It wouldn’t be easy to get to with all the people out and about, but it was their best shot.

  There would be military guys there with guns and food and water. They’d have to take them in. Wasn’t that what the military was supposed to do in times of crisis?

  If Austin and his family had gone there, that had to count for something. They needed friends, people they could trust.

  Because all they had left was each other.

  20

  Salt stung in Joel’s lungs, choking him.

  Despite the pain in his elbow from trying to swim on a busted arm, he’d made it to the shore. Thanks in no small part to the lifejacket around his chest, he’d made it. The ocean was rough, tossing him and Ashley around like rubber ducks in a bathtub, especially as they’d gotten closer to the shore, but they’d survived.