by Harley Tate
“Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.”
“Come on. Duct tape is one of man’s greatest inventions.”
“It’s meant to hold things like plastic pipes together. Not my skin.”
“Turns out it’s got a lot of off-label uses.” Walter held up the strip. “Would you rather I dig out a sewing needle and do this the old-fashioned way?”
Drew’s eyes went wide.
“Didn’t think so.” Walter leaned closer. “All right. Brace yourself.”
Drew reached out with his good hand and gripped the nearest chair leg. “Before you start, can I get some of that vodka?”
“Sure thing.” Walter handed it over along with six Advil. “Take those, too.”
Drew downed the little blue pills along with a hefty dose of liquor. “I’m ready.”
With one hand, Walter pulled Drew’s wound together. With the other, he laid the small strip of tape across. “When I’m done, the wound should stay closed, but it’ll still be open to the air to breathe and ooze.”
“It’s going to ooze?”
“If it gets infected it will. And we want to know if that happens.” He laid another strip of tape.
Drew grimaced, his face growing even paler than before.
“Hang in there, all right?”
Drew nodded and Walter laid another strip of tape. After about half an hour of careful work, Walter finished. Small strips of tape held the wound together on both sides of Drew’s shoulder.
“Thanks, man.”
“You’re welcome. Let’s not make a habit of it, okay?”
“So where’s Anne?”
Walter paused. “I don’t know.”
Drew sat up a bit straighter. “Did you look for her?”
“Not yet. I was focused on keeping you alive.”
Drew planted his good hand on the ground as if he were about to stand up.
“Whoa.” Walter held up his hand. “You’re not going anywhere yet. Give me five minutes. I’ll take a look around.”
“Thanks.” Drew slumped back against the wall.
Walter stood and wiped his hands on his pants. He’d half expected when he busted in the front door that Anne would be there, safe and waiting for them. But when she didn’t appear—not when Walter banged around in the kitchen or Drew cried out—he didn’t have much hope.
Either she wasn’t there, or…
He started in the front and worked his way to the back. Entryway, kitchen, living room, half-bath. Empty. Drew watched him until he ducked into the hall.
Walter cracked the first door. Guest bedroom. Empty. He moved on. In the hall bath, the medicine cabinet hung open. The bottles inside had been knocked about and three littered the floor.
Walter inhaled and checked his watch. Nine thirty on the fifth day without power. How long had riots been going on outside? How long had Anne been trapped inside her apartment, staring out at the chaos, losing hope that her fiancée would ever make it home?
He tensed before opening the last door. This is it. Walter turned the door handle and pushed it open.
The sight made him stumble.
A woman reclined on the bed, arms still against her sides, head resting on the pillow. She looked for all the world like an actress playing Snow White or Sleeping Beauty. But Anne wasn’t playing.
The ashen pallor of her cheeks and the incredible stillness of her body gave her secret away. Walter walked around the bed, careful not to touch it. A note sat on the bedside table, Drew’s named written in script across the front.
Walter didn’t know what to do. Did he tell Drew? Did he lie and say she wasn’t here? No, he couldn’t do that.
Drew would need to know the truth. He would need to know that his fiancée couldn’t wait for him any longer. She’d given up hope before he made it home.
“Anne!” Drew stumbled into the room, falling onto the bed as he scrabbled to touch her.
“I’m sorry, Drew.”
“No!” He reached for her, the duct tape on his shoulder straining as he dragged her lifeless body into his arms. “She can’t be gone.” Drew kissed the top of her forehead as he cradled the woman he loved in his arms.
Walter looked out the window. From their vantage point, the city was in ruins. At least thirty fires dotted the sky, smoke billowing up white and gray against the dark night. No sound of police sirens or fire trucks.
No one was coming to douse the flames.
“She left you a note.” Walter pointed at the bedside table but didn’t turn around. He heard the rustle of the paper.
Drew snuffed back his emotions. “She thought I wasn’t coming. She thought I must have died. That everyone had died. It was…”
He trailed off for a moment, grief and anger thickening his words.
“It was chaos here. Riots and looting. She watched a band of thugs beat a man to death for no reason. She saw a woman… oh, God.”
The paper crinkled and Walter turned around. Tears streamed down Drew’s cheeks and landed on his dead fiancée. “She ran out of food and water and didn’t see a way out. She… she said she’s sorry.”
Drew pulled her dead body closer. “I’m the one who failed her and she’s sorry.” He rocked her back and forth, oblivious to any pain in his shoulder or Walter’s patient stare.
“I’ll give you a moment with her. When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be in the kitchen.” Walter walked out of the bedroom and shut the door. Before he made it down the hall, he could hear Drew’s tortured weeping.
Walter walked to the cabinet that held the liquor and pulled down the scotch. He grabbed two lowball glasses and poured them full before taking them back to the table. He sat down and sipped.
Anne’s death made his mission all that more critical. He needed to find Tracy and Madison before any more time passed. The National Guard would close off downtown soon. If he didn’t get out of there, he would be trapped.
The sound of the door opening caught his ear and Walter glanced up. Drew walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. He picked up the glass of scotch waiting for him and downed it in one long, steady gulp.
He set the empty glass on the table.
“I know this is a lot to deal with, but you need to make a decision.”
Drew’s eyes flicked up to Walter’s face. “About what?”
“Whether you’re going to live or die.”
“I don’t follow.”
“You have two options. One, you can say your goodbyes and come with me and have a shot at surviving in this new world we live in.”
“Or?”
“Two, you stay here, wallowing in your grief, until the National Guard erects its perimeter and you’re trapped in this hell hole with no food and no water and no way to get out.”
Drew sucked in a breath.
“I can’t stay here any longer, Drew. My family is still out there, waiting for me.”
“Anne was my family.”
“I understand that and I’m sorry. But I need to leave. I’d like your help if you can manage. But if you can’t, I understand.”
After a moment, Drew nodded. “All right. I’ll go.”
Walter exhaled. “Good. Now get some clothes, your keys, and anything else you need. We have to get your car and get out of here while we still can.”
DAY SIX
Chapter Twenty-Five
MADISON
Sloane Residence
6:30 a.m.
The sky began to glow along the roofline of all the neighboring houses and Madison clutched the shotgun tighter. All that remained of her parents’ house was the chimney and walls burned almost to the ground.
The refrigerator still stood, warped and useless in a city with no power grid, but their clothes, beds, furniture, and at least half of the supplies her mom had acquired were gone. Up in smoke thanks to some jerk with a vendetta.
All because Madison tied some intruder up instead of shooting him in the head. She should have killed him and strung his body up
on the porch as a notice: don’t mess with the Sloanes or you’ll be next.
But she didn’t. Instead, she’d tried to be sensible and balance the need to protect her friends and family with the humanity that still hid inside her. There was a little bit less of it now.
“What on earth happened here?”
Madison spun around and brought the gun up to position. An older woman wearing a faded pink housecoat held up her hands. She lowered the gun. “Sorry. I’m a bit touchy.”
“Madison is that you?”
She nodded. “Hi, Penny.”
Penny Palmer had hosted the neighborhood meeting where Bill first showed his true colors. She wasn’t like him, though. Penny had always been a good woman and kind to Madison and her mom.
She stared the smoldering ruins in disbelief. “I smelled the smoke last night, but figured someone must be out grilling. I didn’t think to come check.”
“The gunfire didn’t tip you off?”
The woman managed a pained smile. “I turn my hearing aids off most of the time now to conserve the batteries. Is everyone okay?”
Madison sighed. “Mostly.”
“Do you know what started it?”
“Looters.”
Penny reached for the collar of her housecoat, pinching it shut against her neck. “Are you sure?”
“Shooting out our windows and setting the house on fire is a pretty good clue, yep.” Madison was tired of this conversation. She was done with people who didn’t understand. People who didn’t take this new world order seriously were on the tail end of their lives. They just didn’t know it yet.
Peyton wandered up from the backyard where he had set up camp after the flames died down. He smiled at Madison. “Did you sleep at all?”
“No. I wanted to make sure the fire was completely out and keep the cars safe.”
He patted her on the back. “Good job. How about you go get some rest. You can use my bag. It’s still out back.”
“Thanks, but I’m okay. I couldn’t sleep now even if I wanted to.” Madison tipped her head toward the neighbors across the street. While Peyton had been talking, another two neighbors showed up. It was beginning to be a block party.
Peyton nodded. “Something I can help you ladies with?”
“Oh, we’re just talking about how horrible this all is. That someone would do such a thing to the Sloanes’ house.” The woman speaking shook her head.
Madison snorted. “Funny. You don’t seem all that troubled.”
The woman’s mouth fell open, but she didn’t say any more.
Sometime in the middle of the night, while staring at the remains of her parents’ hard work and sacrifice, Madison lost her filter. Screw being nice and polite and trying to help people.
Strangers weren’t worth saving. Not now.
“Are you sure you don’t want a nap?”
“Why?” Madison cast Peyton a glance. “Because I’m telling the truth for once?”
“No. Because you’re acting like all those actors in those Snickers ads. The hungry ones.”
Madison exhaled. “A Snickers sounds good.”
“Tell me about it.” Tucker walked up from the backyard, scratching his head as he came to a stop. He waved at the growing crowd. “Looks like we’re the morning news.”
“They haven’t had the internet for almost a week. We’re the most interesting thing they’ve seen in days.” Brianna appeared and planted a kiss on Tucker’s cheek.
“Blech. Stay back, gorilla breath.”
“Hey, watch it.” She punched Tucker in the arm. “You think if we stole some curtains and made a stage we could barter a half hour theater show for some coffee? Those assholes burned down the kitchen before I could salvage the instant.”
A rush of tears welled in Madison’s eyes and she fought them back. No one was going to break her down. Not anymore. Those jerks could have their little party over their senseless destruction wherever they were. She wasn’t having it.
“How’s your mom?”
Madison glanced at Brianna. “Sleeping still. Her hand looks pretty bad. I think she’s missing some skin in places and the rest is all blistered.”
“No wonder she was so out of it last night. The pain had to be incredible.”
Tucker whistled through his teeth. “We’re going to need to find some antibiotics. Burns like that can get infected easily.”
Madison clamped her teeth together. Antibiotics. Just another thing to add to the list. She turned away from the street and the gathering crowd to survey the house wreckage again. “We should poke through everything. Make sure we haven’t missed anything salvageable before we leave.”
“Where are we going to go?” Peyton asked the question that had lingered in the back of Madison’s mind all night.
“You all are welcome at the Clifton family compound, you know that.”
Madison turned to Brianna. “I can’t ask your family to take us in. That’s a lot of extra mouths to feed.”
“I didn’t say you won’t work for your supper. It takes a lot of labor to live off the grid.”
Madison reached out and wrapped Brianna up in a hug. “Thanks for the offer.”
Brianna pushed her away. “You’re welcome. But no hugging with the paparazzi about.”
With a laugh, Madison glanced back at the crowd. “Ugh. When did he get here?”
Brianna turned. “Who?”
“Bill Donovan. You know, the guy who threatened to kill us? The one who supposedly did all of this. Of all people to rubberneck.”
Peyton grumbled. “Want me to take him out? I bet that baseball bat survived. One good swing is all it would take.”
“No one is taking anyone out.” Madison said it as much to remind herself as to ward off any heroics from Peyton. Killing Bill might give her an immediate rush of satisfaction, but did she want his blood on her hands?
Most likely scenario, he’d die soon anyway.
She glanced at all the people standing around. So would most of them. Madison shook her head. “Let’s just tell them all to leave and then we can wake up my mom and pack up.”
Tucker walked toward the crowd. “There’s nothing to see, so if everyone could respect our privacy and leave, we would appreciate it.”
Brianna snorted. “He’s being too nice.”
“These people haven’t done anything to us.” Peyton shrugged. “He’s just being decent.”
“That one has.” Brianna crossed her arms, looking every bit the smug twenty-year-old a man like Bill Donovan couldn’t stand.
His voice rang out over the crowd. “Do you all need any assistance? A place to stay? I’m sure we could arrange something.”
“Right. And I’m Polly-f’ing-anna.”
“Stop it.” Madison hissed at Brianna. “He’s offering an olive branch.”
“No; he’s scouting for information. He wants to know if we’re still a threat.”
Madison called out. “Thanks, but we’re okay. We’ll be packing up and leaving today.”
Bill’s gaze cut to the two cars parked on the street. “Those cars look pretty full. Are you sure you all can fit?”
“Here we go.” Brianna toyed with a lock of her hair, a smile practically popping off her face.
“We’ll be fine. Thanks.” Madison turned away, signaling the end of the conversation, but Bill didn’t give up.
“If you all have too much stuff, I’m sure there are people in the neighborhood who could use it.”
Madison froze, one foot in the air. She set it down and spun around. “Excuse me?”
“You seem to have plenty. You could stop being so greedy and spread the wealth.”
Oh hells, no. Madison cracked her knuckles and hoisted the shotgun into plain sight before marching up to the edge of her parents’ property. “Let me get this straight.”
As soon as she began to talk, the crowd of neighbors parted like the Red Sea and Bill stood exposed and alone. His white hair stood out in contrast to the black
of his shirt and his personality. Madison wished more than anything that she could shoot him where he stood.
She made a show of raising the shotgun. The sound of Brianna racking her pump action brought a smile to Madison’s face. It wasn’t friendly. “My parents’ house burns down last night, a fire set by people attempting to break in, and you have the audacity to stand there and ask us to give you something?”
Bill shifted in his stance. “It only seems fair.”
“Fair? You want to talk about fairness?” She eased forward, anger rising despite her earlier attempts to talk herself down. “While you all were out there doing goodness knows what, my mother was risking her life to get the supplies we had. She was attacked and could have been killed. Thanks to the fire, she’s got massive burns on her hand that need medical attention.”
Madison paused to point at her friends. “The four of us risked our lives to bring what we did, driving here from Davis, almost getting run off the causeway and shot at in a convenience store.”
“What’s your point?”
“My point is that you’re a coward. We risk everything so that we have food and water and emergency supplies and you stand there in your polo shirt and driving moccasins asking for us to share. Show me how far you’re willing to go to survive and then we can talk.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
Madison stood her ground, heart thundering in her chest. “You’re right. I don’t. How about you fill me in? Were you the one who tried to break in last night? Were you the one who set the fire?” She lowered her head to line up the sight on barrel with the buttons on Bill’s polo shirt. “One of our friends died in the fight. Did you murder her?”
A gasp went up in the crowd around Bill, rushed questions and outrage flying around like a sudden swarm of locusts.
“Is that true?”
“Did someone die?”
“Who was it?”
“Bill, you didn’t…”
Bill’s mouth opened in outrage, but he shut it just as fast. “I don’t have to listen to this. You have no right to accuse me of anything.”
