by Tate, Harley
He took a drag and blew the smoke toward the light. “Sure was.”
“To kill us?”
“Maybe. Depended on what I found.” He puffed again on the cigarette. “But it seems to me the tables have turned.”
Madison couldn’t get a read on the man at all. Was he serious? Did he actually expect her to shoot him in the head while he sat in the snow smoking? She looked past him toward the forest. “Anyone with you?”
“Not since you blew my cousin’s brains out back there.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Can’t feel much of anything thanks to this snow.” He practically smirked at her as he sucked down another lungful of smoke.
They were getting nowhere. Madison advanced close enough to kick him if she wanted to. The snow tinged red around his right thigh and his pant leg gaped where a strip of duct tape was peeling. He was big, larger than she’d thought from her position by the Jeep.
He had to outweigh her by close to a hundred pounds. But he looked to be in bad shape. If the wound on his leg was serious, he could have lost a substantial amount of blood. Even the toughest NFL linebacker was no match for blood loss.
She had two choices: shoot him and ransack his body for anything useful or take a chance and see if they could help each other. The first option was the safe choice, and both she and the man knew it. But it wouldn’t help her get out of the woods and it wouldn’t keep her or Brianna warm enough overnight.
The plan hatching in her head was crazy; anyone would tell her that. But it just might work. She motioned at the Jeep. “I’ve got medical supplies.”
“Rubbing it in before you shoot me?”
“Can you fix cars?”
He glanced past her to the Jeep lodged against the rocky outcrop. “Depends on how bad they’re jacked up, but I’m not bad.”
“How about a trade? I fix up your leg. You get that Jeep started.”
“I hate to break it to you honey, but that Jeep isn’t going anywhere.”
“I don’t need to drive it, I need to run the heater.”
He took another drag before flicking the cigarette into the snow. It hissed and a trickle of smoke wafted into the air. “Can you help me up? This leg isn’t good for much.”
Madison lowered the gun and approached the man. “First wrong move you make and I’ll shoot you. Don’t doubt me.”
“At this point, you’d be doing me a favor.” He lurched to the side and held out his hand.
She took it and used all her strength to haul him up. Teetering on one leg, he almost collapsed. Madison rushed to slide her shoulder under his arm and take the weight off his injury. “Can you walk?”
“We’ll find out.” He took a step and groaned in pain, his weight almost bringing Madison to her knees. She erased his ability to take her out. If he couldn’t walk without this much assistance, he couldn’t kill her without a gun and so far, she hadn’t seen one.
Together, they trudged through the snow to the Jeep. Madison stumbled, barely able to stay upright and keep the Glock in her hand. If she holstered it, she would be able to use both arms to hold him, but she couldn’t give up the advantage.
Finally they reached the vehicle and he collapsed against the front left fender, sweat beading down his temple. “If you can pop the hood, I can take a look at the engine.”
Madison struggled out from beneath his arm and opened the driver’s door. Brianna shifted as the outside air hit her face, but she didn’t wake up. Madison hit the button to disengage the hood catch and shut the door.
The man still leaned over the Jeep, gasping like a fish on a dock. Either he didn’t see Brianna or he was in too much pain to care. Madison hurried around him, gun held low in her strong hand. Running her fingers back and forth beneath the dented hood, she found the release and lifted the hood.
“Grab the flashlight.”
Madison hurried to fetch the flashlight still sitting out in the snow. By the time she stopped beside the Jeep and shined it on the engine, the man had sidled around the front and propped himself up on an oversized rock. “What happened when you tried to start it?”
“All it does is click.”
The man nodded. “Do you have a tire iron?”
Madison leaned back and brought her gun closer to her body.
“Not to hit you with. I need to check the starter.”
“You need a tire iron for that?”
He exhaled and looked at her like a disappointed teacher. “We could always go back to the double tap if that’s easier.”
Madison frowned, but did as he asked. She located the tire iron in the back of the Jeep and brought it up to him. After handing it over, she stepped well clear. “Now what?”
“Now I crawl under this damn thing and check it out.”
Madison raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it. If he wanted to shimmy all two hundred pounds of him under the vehicle, he could have at it. At least she didn’t have to worry about him shooting her from under there.
After a few agonizing minutes of watching him grunt and curse his way beneath the engine area, Madison jumped at a loud clang. “Did you just hit the engine?”
The noise sounded again before the man scooted out. He rolled over onto his back and tossed the tire iron into the snow. “Try it now.”
While he lay in the snow, panting from pain, Madison stepped around him and up into the cab. She eased around Brianna and pressed her foot on the brake while she turned the key. The engine groaned and sputtered. She tried again. This time it held. He’d actually gotten it running.
She stepped down in shock. “What did you do?”
“I smacked the starter with the tire iron. The electrical contacts probably got stuck in the crash.”
Madison didn’t know where to begin. She reached down and held out her hand. “Thank you. My name’s Madison Sloane.”
He managed a smile despite the pain and closed his thick hand around hers. “Silas Cunningham.”
With all her strength, she pulled Silas up to stand. “Let’s get you into the back and take a look at that leg.”
302 Days Without Power
Chapter Twenty
SILAS
Woods north of Truckee, CA
12:30 a.m.
“Damn it, woman. That hurt.” Silas beat a fist against the door to the Jeep as the girl tightened the tourniquet around his leg.
“Shh.” She chastised him for speaking too loudly and glanced up at the other girl in the front. Ever since Silas clambered into the back seat, the passed-out blonde hadn’t done much more than roll over and moan. He opened his mouth to ask about her when pain shot through his thigh. He cursed.
“You need medical attention. The tourniquet can’t be on too long or you’ll lose your leg.”
Silas snorted. “Don’t worry. When I get back to town, I’ll just pop into the nearest ER and, oh wait.” He smacked his own face. “I might be dying, but I’m not delusional.”
She leaned back. “The hospital might not be running, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t trained medical people around.”
“Yeah? You got one hiding somewhere around here?”
The girl lapsed into silence.
“Madison, right?”
She nodded.
Silas leaned forward, grinding his teeth against the pain. “Well, Madison, how about you find me some whiskey and let me ride out the end with some dignity, huh?”
She shook her head and muttered something beneath her breath.
“What was that?”
Her eyes narrowed as she glanced up. “I guess your confidence is more bravado than courage, huh?”
It was Silas’s turn to stay quiet.
“Thought so.” She cleaned up the back of the Jeep without giving him another glance and climbed into the front.
Silas watched as she checked the other girl’s pulse and pulled down the mylar blanket. Insulting him like that was stupid. If he had any strength left, he’d shoot her and her friend and be done wi
th it. But as much as he hated to admit it, he needed her to patch him up first.
She didn’t know what helping him meant, but she’d figure it out soon enough. He grunted as he leaned forward toward the driver’s seat. “What’s with your friend?”
Madison paused, eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the girl. “She got hurt in the crash.”
“She gonna make it?”
“I hope so.” Madison fumbled with something by her feet. “It’s not whiskey, but it’s all I’ve got.” As she sat back up, she shoved a bottle of water in Silas’s direction. “Thanks for getting the Jeep started.”
He hesitated for a moment, uncomfortable with the act of kindness. After a moment, he snatched the bottle and barked out a reply. “You’re welcome.” From a purely selfish standpoint, he was thankful. Now he had a warm place to sit and figure out a plan. Sure as hell beat dying out in the snow from blood loss and exposure.
Madison tucked her hair behind her ear. “Are you one of the guys who attacked us on the road?”
He paused, water bottle halfway to his lips. “Thought you already knew the answer to that.”
“Why us? We didn’t do anything to you.”
He snorted. “Tell that to Aaron back there in the snow.”
“You were the ones who attacked. You set up the roadblock and chased us into the trees.”
Silas shrugged and downed half the water bottle at once. “You had something we wanted.”
“That’s it? You just take whatever you want and screw everyone else?”
“It’s been working so far.”
She shook her head. “That’s no way to live. What are you going to do when you run out of things to steal?”
Silas frowned. “What do you mean?”
“At some point, there’s going to be nothing left to scavenge and no people left to steal from. How are you going to survive then?”
He shook his head. “That’s easy. We’ll hunt and fish and eat up all our stash.”
“And when the forests are depleted and the streams are empty and your stash is all gone, then what?”
“I don’t know, grow something.”
Madison snorted. “Like it’s that easy.”
He motioned with the water bottle. “What, you know something about farming?”
“That’s what I studied before the grid collapsed.”
“In college?”
She nodded.
He leaned back and hooked his arms behind the seat. “I always wanted to go to college. My old man said it was a waste of time.” He shook his head at the memory. “Turns out he was right.”
“Don’t say that. At some point we’ll rebuild or foreign aid will show up. You can’t lose hope that things will get better.”
“You never went hungry before this shit show, did you?”
She scrunched up her nose. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Working class stiffs like me and my family, we had it rough before the power went out. Not enough jobs, crappy pay.” He almost smiled. “All the so-called stealing? We’re just evening the score.”
Her eyes widened. “Just because your life sucked doesn’t give you the right to kill people and take what they have.”
He picked a piece of dried blood off his hand. “Why not?”
“My parents worked hard to get where they were. I got scholarships to go to college. We might not have gone hungry, but we deserve the same chance to survive as you.” She pursed her lips in disgust. “We’ve been through hell this past year.”
Right. From the look of the fancy Jeep and the clean clothes she wore, Silas doubted she’d gone through anything half as bad as he’d seen. The fights over supplies and vehicles. The rioting in town. The strung-out drug addicts and alcoholics desperate for a fix. His own father.
He drained the rest of the water bottle and tossed it on the floorboard. “Tell me one crappy thing that’s happened to you since the power failed.”
“One of my best friends was killed in a gun fight.”
Silas shrugged. “Wrong place, wrong time.”
“Neighbors set my parents’ house on fire and burned everything before attacking us. One of our friends died trying to escape.”
He looked her up and down. “You seem all right.”
She threw her hands out in disbelief. “People I know were murdered and we were forced out of our home because of arson and you act like it’s nothing? What’s happened to you that’s so awful?”
“All of that and more. Twelve people in my family were killed before today. Probably up to twenty now, thanks to your group.”
“They wouldn’t have died if you hadn’t blocked the road. You can’t do bad things and expect people to be nice.”
He shook his head. “All those people we’ve looted from? They wouldn’t have made it anyway. We’re just helping them get rid of their stuff a bit early, that’s all.”
“Who appointed you the decision-maker?”
“Guns and ammo, mostly.”
Madison shook her head. “Weapons won’t save you from bad timing. Part of my group was in a horrible car crash. Killed one instantly and led to the death of a bunch more.”
“What’s that got to do with guns?”
“The guy that hit them had a back seat full of them.” She snorted. “Duffel bags crammed with guns are useless in a car crash. You’d be better off staying put and learning how to homestead instead of driving all over in a muscle car.”
Silas stilled. “What kind of car?”
“I don’t know.” She blew him off. “Maybe a Camaro or a Mustang, what does it matter? The car isn’t the point.”
He shifted on the seat and lowered his right hand, struggling with the impossibility of the coincidence. What were the chances that this scrawny, spoiled, college girl’s family ran into his father? A million to one?
It had to be someone else, some other man on a gun run. Not his father. Not Butch Cunningham. No way would he survive the riots and the early days of chaos to die in a car accident on some back road. But if he did, and this girl or her family had something to do with it…
He wrapped his fingers around the gun tucked into the back of his pants. Silas would avenge his father’s death. Even if it meant he would never make it out of the woods alive.
As calmly as he could, he looked her in the eye. “Where did you say this happened again?”
Chapter Twenty-One
MADISON
Woods north of Truckee, CA
2:00 a.m.
Madison eased back in the seat. Fear pricked the hairs running down her neck and she swallowed hard. What did I say? She racked her brain, thinking through her brief recounting of the car crash. Guns and a muscle car.
Were they his? Did he know someone who left on a gun run and never came back?
She tried to remember what her father said about the guns they recovered. They were from some cult or group the Cliftons ran into when they first made it to the cabin. A nasty bunch of thugs who didn’t care about grace or hospitality.
In time, they had been forgotten along with so many other things. Now, she desperately needed to remember.
Who are they? Madison squeezed her eyes shut, willing the answer up from some recess in her mind. It wouldn’t come. Whoever her father thought the guns belonged to, the name was gone. She opened her eyes.
Silas stared at her with unabashed hatred. His cheeks flushed and his neck muscles bunched as he sucked in a lungful of air. He teetered on the edge of control and a wave of panic rose up in Madison’s chest.
I’ve got to get out of this.
She glanced around the Jeep. Thanks to Silas’s injury, she could probably make it out the passenger door before he reached her, but that meant leaving Brianna behind. Madison couldn’t do it.
Silas asked his question again. “Where was this crash?”
Madison licked her lips. “I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”
“But you have some general idea, right? Was it in Ca
lifornia? Montana? New York?”
“Somewhere around here, I think.” Madison eyeballed the console. The handgun sat in the tray, no more than six inches from her right hand and Silas’s knee. She had set it down to treat Silas’s wound. So stupid. The rifle lay on the passenger floorboard behind her. She couldn’t grab either one without it being obvious. She cursed herself.
“What color was the car?”
Madison looked up at the man. Frustration and pain turned his voice sharp. A shimmer of sweat broke out across his forehead and glinted in the flashlight glow. He had to be in terrible pain, but for some reason the car crash mattered more.
I have to stall and find a way out. She eased to her right. “I don’t know anything about the car.”
“You said it was a muscle car. What kind?”
“I don’t know. You’d have to ask someone who was there.”
“They live with you?”
Shit, shit, shit. Why did I say that? She stammered. “N-No. I mean, they used to, but—” She scrambled for some way to deflect the questioning. “You just attacked us. For all I know, my family and friends are dead. We could be all that’s left.”
Silas wiped a hand down his face, lingering on his tangled beard. “Then tell me everything they told you about the crash. Don’t leave anything out.”
She swallowed and shifted again in the seat, hoping to angle her body enough to hide the visual on the rifle with her hips. There was no way to go for the Glock without risking a physical fight, and Silas outweighed her by close to a hundred pounds. The rifle was her only option. I have to distract him.
Madison cleared her throat. “They were driving down a rural road in two vehicles. An old pickup truck was in front. The vehicle following the pickup spotted a car on a side road.”
She hacked up a dry cough and leaned over.
“Don’t stop.”
“I’m thirsty.”
“You’ll be a hell of a lot worse if you don’t finish.”
She coughed harder. “Just give me—” Madison stretched her arm behind her, fingers brushing cold metal.
