“Again.” Danny nudged Jenny with his elbow. “Let’s go.”
Jenny gave the lead a few tugs, and Sherman rose from the ground. This time, she wrapped the lead around her balled fist to keep him closer than before—not willing to let him get out of her control again. They pushed on through the snow at a much slower pace and into a backyard of one of the more complete houses. With Sherman at her side, Jenny leaned into the wall of unfinished brick near the back door to the house. “What do you think?” Jenny asked, looking back toward Danny.
He remained stiff, standing to her rear, rifle up and ready for whatever might wish them harm. “You tell me. You're in charge.”
“Alright then...” Grabbing the screen door, Jenny tugged, but it was locked. This one's always open. Uneasiness fell over her. “What the hell?” Would've been nice to clear the street from inside here. She groaned, giving the door another quick jerk. “Someone might be inside...”
“So, what do you do now?” Danny asked.
“No choice but to go around front, right? Check and see what all we have.”
“Don't want a different house?”
“If someone's inside here, we don't want them having an advantage on us if we're moving around the street. This house has the best concealment. We've gotta clear it.”
“I knew you liked this house.”
“What?” Jenny bent an eyebrow. “Why you say that?”
“No reason...”
They took off toward the front. Past the back door and below the windows. Between the pallets of bricks. Over and around trees that hadn't been planted, lying on their sides, root balls still wrapped in brown canvas. After rounding the rear corner and nearing the front of the house, Jenny startled. “Platz!” The three of them came to an immediate stop. Pain shot through her chest—her heartbeat racing. Her eyes darted back and forth along a stretch of footprints coming from the end of the street. Shit! She slammed her back against the house.
“What you got?” Danny asked.
“Footprints come— coming from the dead end of the street.” She pointed, her finger nearly shaking loose from her hand. “Between those houses near the woods. They come this way, but— but I can't tell exactly where they end up.”
“Find out!”
Jenny closed her eyes, collecting her thoughts, her bearings, searching for the word she needed to ensure Sherman wouldn't move. She kept the lead tight within her hand, fearful of letting it go. Then, it came. “Bleib,” she ordered, glancing over to Sherman. Worried he wouldn't heed the command, she only inched her foot forward half a step. He didn't move, didn't even seem to consider it, so she dropped the lead to the ground. Can't risk you yanking me if I'm aiming at something. Stay put for me boy.
Creeping toward the front corner of the house, Jenny rocked her rifle up and into her shoulder, clearing the far end of the street. Working her way across, she steadied the muzzle over the houses opposite them. Two of them were merely frames, no basement. However, the house next to those was nearly habitable, similar to the one Jenny was currently hunkered down against.
Take it slow... The garage was open. No one inside. Each window appeared vacant, but she had no choice but to take several passes—her attention slow and methodical in clearing every perch, every nook that someone could settle in. Each additional pass over the house convinced her it sat empty. Nothing seemed disturbed. No real sign of life. No footprints across its yard. But it was always possible someone could've snuck through from behind. She had to consider the possibility. After all, they had done the same.
“Okay...” She puffed a few breaths. She retreated from the corner only slightly, angling back to pie off the nearside. Piece by piece, her muzzle revealed more of the same. The stillness of the street. Lifeless. I really don't think anyone's here. “These footprints have got to be old.”
“You willing to bet your life on it?”
No... “Alright, boy,” she said. “Seek!” The canine sprung from his position. Jenny and Danny followed—rifles back in position, covering Sherman as he rushed straight to the cut of footprints through the yard. Amazing! These police dogs don’t mess around. His nose hovered just above the snow, deliberate. He straightened up for a split second then turned away from the far end of the cul-de-sac. “Can he tell which way the prints are going?” she asked Danny over her shoulder.
“Something like that. He can pick up on where the scent is stronger, but we should probably look at the prints and see which way they’re pointing. Give him a little help.”
“Doesn’t look like he needs it,” she said, impressed with the fact Sherman was now scurrying for the house. Jenny hugged the front wall, taking a beeline to meet Sherman on the porch. Upon approach, she immediately noticed the fractured jamb, the door ajar. “Platz.” From outside, she visually cleared what she could of the front rooms and held her position against the jamb, rifle out, sights aligned, targeting the inside. “It’s been kicked in.” Her words were quick and low to Danny.
This… She struggled to gather her thoughts. To her, this was supposed to be a training exercise. Practice. Something to hone her skills, to show Danny she’d been paying attention. It all became too real in too big a hurry. She swallowed, her breaths speeding uncontrollably from her gaping mouth. The handkerchief gathered moisture, becoming uncomfortably cold against her skin. Briefly, her eyes searched for advice in Danny’s face, but there was nothing offered. He simply dipped his chin, pushing her to go on.
Maybe I shouldn't be doing this...? Maybe Danny was right. She couldn't help but think this kind of stress, this rise and fall of adrenaline, of her heartbeat, was bad for the pregnancy. “Danny…” It pained her to finish what she was about to say. “I—I can’t do this.”
“You asked for this now finish it.” He gestured toward the door.
Jenny shook her head. “No. The baby. I can’t… I can’t risk getting hurt.”
“Damn it, Jenny! You dragged us out here in the damn snow for your selfish— whatever the hell the reason was. You’re not backing out now. Sometimes we don’t get a choice. Sometimes you just have to handle what comes your way. That baby isn't an excuse. She's gonna be your reason to live. To push through. You either want to fight and survive or not. And whatever your choice is will affect your baby! So it's time to grow the fuck up!”
She swallowed. The truth hurt going down. The mix of emotions that had swelled inside her throat pained her to ingest. He’s right. I have to learn to protect my baby. I don't have a choice. She stared blankly into the house. The rifle shook in her hands, her muscles beginning to burn from its weight. I just have to train until I'm the best. I have Danny. I have Sherman. I can do this. “Danny, hold the entrance.”
“There you go.”
“Sherman, seek!” she called out.
The retired police canine curled to the right and through the foyer toward the back hallway. Jenny went left into a living room. Drywall, absent paint—no carpet or hardwood, simply plywood subflooring riddled with wet footprints. Someone had certainly been through here. Fairly recent by the looks of it. Luckily for Jenny, if anyone was still here and absent-minded enough to move, there would be no hiding it. The clacking of Sherman’s claws echoed around the corners of every room. There was little doubt that any other movement wouldn't be so easily heard.
Stealthily, she advanced through the unfinished living room, past a fireplace, posting up at the corner with her eyes floating over the rifle's sights. The wet prints tracked through a galley kitchen and cut right to a door sitting partially open. Jenny pulled it wide, then descended a flight of stairs leading into the basement. Bare walls of the foundation. Concrete floor. Studs separating what would have been different rooms. A waste of time. No one. It was cleared within a minute of entering.
Back in the kitchen, she turned right from the basement, continuing into the dining room. More of the same. Nothing but bare walls and plywood. In the family room, at the rear of the house, she double-checked the backdoor. Still locked
. From there, she came full circle into the foyer. A flight of stairs to her right and a hallway that led into two first-floor bedrooms. “Hier.” Sherman promptly exited one of the back rooms and went to her, settling in at the foot of the stairs leading to the second floor.
“Bleib.” Sherman held his position while Jenny went and searched the first-floor bedrooms for her own peace of mind. “All clear down here.”
Danny threw a thumbs-up over his shoulder, still holding the rifle pointed out the front door.
Upstairs, the floor creaked.
Shit! Jenny spun her rifle toward the top of the stairs. Sherman barked, but stayed put. “If you're up there, announce yourself!” Jenny shouted. “If you don't come down on your own, my dog will find you, and he will bite you! No one needs to get hurt!”
Another creak of the floor.
“You're not leaving me with much choice!” She kept the muzzle trained at the top of the stairs. “Last chance!” Nothing. She readied herself with a few breaths. “Alright, boy... Seek!”
Sherman shot up the stairs. Jenny crept behind him, working her rifle along the unpainted walls atop the landing. Where the hell are they? The house had fallen into silence, giving nothing away. No clues to her adversary's position. Sherman cut left from the stairs, and Jenny held the top, focusing the rifle toward a closed door at the end of the hallway to the right. Come on, boy. We got this!
Once Sherman returned, he and Jenny took to the last room in the house. He tried nudging it open but couldn’t. Jenny braced herself against the wall and steadied the rifle, forward and level toward where the door would open. She stood listening, nervous. This is it. The last place in the house.
With one hand, she flung the door open, banging it against the wall. Sherman wasted no time storming through. Briefly, she saw that the left side of the room sat empty, but the door's recoil from hitting the wall blocked her view of the nearside. She stepped through the gap and backed into the far corner, her rifle fixed on the nearside, her only unknown. Again, nothing. Another empty room. Only the stiff wind from an open window gave the room any life. Sherman had his paws on the windowsill. “What you got, boy?”
Below the window, on the roof of the garage, distinct bootprints led into the backyard and disappeared up the hill toward the Depot. Jenny leaned against the window frame in an attempt to see if she'd missed something. What the hell just happened? Only a single trail of prints. She pulled the window closed. “Danny, we gotta get back! Whoever it is left for the Depot!”
“Just hold up a sec!”
“Didn't you hear me?!” She shouted, rushing from the unfinished bedroom. “They're heading back to the Depot!”
“I heard you. Just sit your ass down in that room. Show me what you're talking about.”
What the hell is wrong with him? She returned to the window to verify what she had seen. Again, just the single trail of footprints through the yard and up the hill. At least I'm not going crazy. Dumbfounded with Danny's indifference to the threat, she slid her back against the wall and sat, waiting with Sherman's head in her lap.
The front door slammed a few times—a futile attempt to close it with its broken frame. Eventually, Danny gave up, and the clopping of his boots echoed up the stairs. “Where you at?”
“Where you told me to be.”
“You find anyone?” he asked, smiling as he entered the room. She still felt herself shaking from the adrenaline dump and didn’t appreciate the blithe look on Danny’s face. “You catch the guy?”
“I said they got out and were heading for the Depot.” Her face was stone cold. “We need to go and warn them.” She tried to stand, but Danny palmed her head, keeping her from getting up.
“Relax, kiddo.” Danny tousled her sock hat then sat down beside her.
“I should have moved faster. Shouldn't have second guessed myself so much. Now, they got away.”
Danny couldn’t help himself any longer and began laughing. “Training. It’s all training.”
Annoyed, her eyes caught his. “You’re playing me?”
“Not exactly…” He smiled again. “Someone was here. Once you got inside, he went out the window and down the garage. So, you did what you were supposed to do. Great job.”
She stood. “You’re a dick.” Her eyes went back to the window. “Who was it? Who’d you talk into risking a broken leg sliding down the roof here?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Matt?”
“Why’s it matter?”
“Because it was stupid.” She continued staring out the window. “At least let them know I appreci—” Jenny's stomach twisted into knots. Her eyes went wide. Oh, shit... In the distance, four strangers traipsed down the street from the mouth of the cul-de-sac. Black uniforms. Unmistakably Second Alliance. She felt faint, touching her hand to the wall, sinking slowly toward the floor.
“It’s…” The room began to spin. “It's...”
“What? What is it?”
Danny’s feet scraped against the plywood as he clambered to his feet to help ease her to the floor. “You okay?”
“It's...”
“It's wha—” He took a moment at the window. “Who the hell are those people Griffin's with?”
Jenny couldn't answer. Again, darkness had fallen upon her. She could only imagine what was to come. After seeing the takeover of River's Edge… Now, Griffin leading them to the Depot. It was happening all over again. Why? Why again? It was too soon. Too soon to face Xavier’s murderers. Too soon to have to deal with them again.
Chapter Seven
“This won’t end well,” Jenny huffed, slogging through the snow behind Danny and Sherman. She yanked her kerchief down. “I'm serious! They're no good!” Neither Danny nor Sherman reacted to her warning. She couldn't even be sure her voice reached them up the hill. The appearance of these Second Alliance strangers had Danny consumed by curiosity. Had him trekking home with seemingly endless strength, endless stamina. He kept plowing ahead. Sherman too. And Jenny was falling behind. Again. “Danny! Please! Just listen to me for a second. You can't go into this blind. You know it's not a good idea. Let me—”
“Let you what?” Finally, he slowed, but wouldn't stop. For him, the hill peaked only a few paces away.
“I’m telling you the S.A., er… The Second Alliance is no good!”
“How the hell do you know what they're called?”
“It's...” Jenny's voice faded, she tossed her head back in frustration, hating herself for not telling him earlier, for not sharing what Danny deserved to know. It had been wrong to keep it from him. She should’ve told him where she and her friends had come from and why they had fled. Maybe then Danny could’ve warned Griffin of the Second Alliance and the whole thing could have been avoided. Maybe we were wrong...
“How do you know who they are?” Danny asked again from atop the hill, clearly annoyed with Jenny's unwillingness to reveal all she knew. “We’ve never seen them before. Not even in as many times as we—” He pulled the kerchief from his mouth and scoffed. “Shit... How the hell didn't I see it sooner? These are the ones in black, aren't they? The ones you asked about in that house where we got shot at? The ones that had you so worried?” His tone became aggressive. “Why are they looking for you, Jenny? What did you do to them?”
“What did I do?! What the hell, Danny?!” Anger coursed through her veins—the accusation completely uncalled for. “After all we've been through, you're actually going to stand there and ask me that? What the hell do you think I could've done, Danny?!” She took pause from the conversation. The yelling was exhausting. Her strength was dwindling. It took everything inside herself to best that hill. To come even with Danny. To make him look her in the eyes with any more baseless claims.
“Alright, look.” She threw her rifle across her back. “Gimme a sec to explain before this gets any worse than it already is.”
His face read of impatience.
“We didn't do anything to them. Nothing. And that's the t
ruth.” Their eyes locked. Hers felt fragile. His were steadfast. “Those assholes are why we had to come to the Depot in the first place. They're the reason why we had nowhere else to go. What they did...” She broke her gaze from his.
“What, Jenny?” She felt he wanted to grab hold of her and shake the words loose from inside her. “Tell me.”
Still unsure of how to phrase it, Jenny searched herself.
“If you want me to take anything you’re about to say seriously, then you gotta tell me everything. You can’t keep holding back.” He raised his eyebrows. “I’m trying to be patient. I’m trying to understand what’s going on, but I need you to quit playing this back and forth shit. I need the truth, Jenny. Not your opinion. What happened? What the hell is wrong with these people? Why would Griffin be leading them here if he didn’t trust them?”
“They—” Her voice shattered, vibrating her lips into a violent quiver. “I...” The hesitation in her voice wasn’t purposeful. It took everything she had not to completely fall apart in front of Danny. “I’m sorry. I’m trying.” A tear. A gasp—a deep shudder into her lungs.
“You can tell me. You can tell me anything. You should know that.”
“If what I think is about to happen, if Griffin’s already struck a deal, then… it’s already over. The Depot’s done.”
“I still don’t—”
“The whole thing’s a sham!” she snapped. “They’re murderers. That’s their thing. That’s the whole thing. They come in with these ideas. These— Like everything they say is this amazing… I don’t know. They just fucking show up. Then everything changes. At my home before here, before the Depot, they made promises, all sorts of fucking promises for us to agree to work with them. But Matt told me Larry knew they were trouble. That he’d sent them away—”
“The name Larry means nothing to me.”
“You’re right. That doesn’t matter. I—I’m sorry, I’m just...” She swallowed before continuing, slowing her words. “The point is our leader didn’t trust them. He didn’t take the bait. He sent them away for—”
Almawt Virus Series (Book 3): Days Since...Jenny [Day 986] Page 9
