by Harley Tate
Leaving as a group had been the right call. As everyone finished dinner, Colt excused himself. “I’ll take first shift tonight.”
Dani spoke up. “I can do it if you want to sleep.”
He shook his head. “No. You get some rest. I couldn’t sleep if I tried.” He picked up a rifle and checked his handgun in his holster before walking toward the front of the restaurant.
“Do you think we’ll be safe tonight?” Melody’s question voiced the fear percolating in Dani’s stomach.
Larkin shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”
Chapter Twelve
COLT
Chili’s
Springfield, Oregon
11:00 p.m.
The tenuous nature of their existence hit Colt full-force as he peered out into the dark. Thanks to the restaurant, they were able to eat and drink and sleep for the night, but it wasn’t permanent. The lack of lookout positions drove him crazy.
He’d been all over the damn restaurant, trying to find somewhere to set up for a while. Nowhere worked. A few gaps between the front windows served as a decent vantage point during the day, but were useless at night. The back was all metal and concrete block.
What they needed was height. A little elevation and one or two people could maintain passable security. A one-story restaurant with solid doors and nooks and crannies everywhere wasn’t the best option. Not by a long shot. He eased the rear door open and squinted into the night.
Clouds floated across the moon and cast an eerie glow across the parking lot. At least he could see. The door closed with a click behind him and Colt stood still; a dark figure against the beige paint of the wall.
Something about the place was too good to be true. Why wasn’t it looted? The location in a mostly residential area? The boarded-up windows? He wasn’t sure either counted as sufficient deterrents.
Maybe no one as desperate as the people they’d seen downtown had stumbled across it. They were a long way from the woman crying in the street. He thought about Melody and her inability to process this new reality.
What she didn’t understand was that there could be no more charity. Colt’s run-in with the father-daughter team of the day before made that clear. Desperation had kicked in for everyone. He pushed off the wall and eased into the parking lot, scanning every few steps in a 360-degree circle.
As a SEAL, preliminary scouting wasn’t his specialty. He never patrolled an area, attempting to keep it secure. He went in, did the job, got out. Sticking around wasn’t a part of the plan. He hated patrol.
Too many variables. Too many avenues of attack.
Colt walked the perimeter with quiet steps, searching for a place to set up. A tree thirty yards across the lot held promise. So did a spot just behind the restaurant’s sign near the road. He could get comfortable, hide behind the unlit sign and watch. He circled the restaurant and paused.
A rustling sound came from the back near the Humvee. He faded into the shadows like a ghost and moved closer.
The tarp.
It shook and shimmied on top of the vehicle. Colt lifted the rifle and held the scope to his eye. Damn. Too close to use as a sight. Perfect if he needed to shoot an apple off the Humvee’s hood, but terrible to find the source of the noise.
He slung the rifle over his shoulder and pulled out his Sig. Crept another five feet along the building’s edge.
“Told you! It’s military!”
“Shh. They’ve gotta be inside.”
Colt froze. Two unidentified males. He couldn’t tell if they were kids or old enough to be dangerous. He hugged the wall and focused on their voices.
“They gotta have guns. We should bust in there. Check it out.”
“You got a death wish? They probably already know we’re here.”
Colt kept the smile to himself. At least one of them had a brain.
“Let’s just get inside and check it out.”
Damn it. He couldn’t let that happen. Colt stepped out of the dark. “You’re damn straight I know you’re here. Now leave.” He leveled the gun at the shape moving about around the vehicle.
“You don’t look military to me.” The shape shuffled closer and separated into three. Shit. Although they couldn’t have been older than twenty, what they lacked in age they made up for in size. The one in front outweighed Colt by a good fifty pounds. A big, hulking beast of a kid.
Colt pointed the barrel at his chest. “Guess you’ve never met a SEAL. I won’t ask a third time. Leave.”
“Don’t sound like you’re askin’ at all, mister.” The smaller of the three stepped forward. “We weren’t doin’ nuthin’. And this ain’t your store anyway. You got no right to ask us to leave.”
“That’s my vehicle you’re poking around.” Colt didn’t want to shoot them. The gunfire would terrify everyone inside the restaurant and call a ton of unwanted attention. Who knew what the sound of a shootout would bring out of the woodwork.
He made a show of cocking the gun. “You don’t want to die over a puffed-up ego. Leave and I won’t put a bullet in your head.”
The quiet one reached into his pocket. Colt took aim on his chest. As the kid removed his hand, a knife blade caught the moonlight. Colt groaned to himself. What is it with me and knives lately? The blade upped the odds of having to shoot. It was still the worst option.
He pointed at the knife with his gun. “You know how to use that thing or just showing off?”
The kid made a swiping motion with the blade. Guess that’s a yes. Colt widened his stance and unlocked his knees. If only he had Larkin to back him up.
All three young men fanned out, surrounding Colt in a half-circle. He had a choice to make. Use the gun and end this now or do it the hard way.
Shooting them meant at least three bullets, six if he didn’t want to take a chance. It would just about run him dry. It would also mean they had to leave as soon as possible. No sleeping in, no calm and orderly breakfast before hitting the road. No chance to wash some of the grime off.
Not that hygiene should come above his own safety, but Colt was sick of being on the defensive. Sick of always being one step behind. After Jarvis, he wanted a break.
The kid with the knife rushed him as he thought it over. A quick jab and Colt parried, dancing back like a boxer. Another stepped forward and swung. Thanks to the kid’s size, he telegraphed everything from the angle of the blow to the force of the impact.
Colt dodged again and the kid stumbled as his fist caught nothing but air. Heat rose off the two who missed, their anger reflected in the bunch of their shoulders and the grimaces on their thick, blocky faces. Brothers, maybe.
“Last chance, boys. Leave now and you won’t get hurt.”
The one in the middle stood watching. “You ain’t gonna shoot us or you’d-a done it already. I bet there ain’t any bullets in that gun.”
So much for the easy way. Colt unslung the rifle and brought it into position. “There’s plenty in this one.” He flicked the safety to single rounds and aimed. “Now get out of here.”
The two on his flanks hesitated and turned to the boy in the middle. He could have been the oldest or the de facto leader or just the biggest bully. Colt didn’t care. If he gave in, the others would too.
Come on, leave.
Out of the punk’s waistband came a tiny revolver. A .22 or a snub nose .38. A piece with accuracy for shit and a kick a kid couldn’t control.
“I’ll drop you before you even take a shot.”
“Come on Sammy, it ain’t worth it.”
The kid brought the gun up with one hand, holding it sideways like idiots did on TV.
“He’s right. You don’t have to do this. Just walk away.”
Sammy’s thick brow shielded his eyes as he struggled with the decision. Colt kept the rifle aimed at his chest. At this range, the bullet would sail through the kid’s chest like a rock through water, but a hit to the heart would still kill.
His finger rested light and easy on the tri
gger.
The kid stepped back.
Colt exhaled. Maybe this would end well after all. As the kid retreated another step, a metallic clink and slide echoed behind Colt. The restaurant’s rear door was opening. Shit.
“Hey, Colt. You out here? It’s my turn to stand watch.”
The kid with the gun panicked, backpedalling into the dark as he took aim on the rear of the building.
“Get back inside!” Colt shouted, but he knew it was all over.
He aimed at the kid’s chest and fired, but it was too late. The revolver discharged. The booming echo of the shot bounced off of the metal dumpster and carried into the night.
The kid on the left screamed. The kid on the right turned and ran. Sammy still stood, head bent to inspect the hole in his chest. “You shot me. You bastard.” He brought the gun back up, but Colt fired before he had a chance. This time he ended it with a shot to the head.
Sammy crumpled to the ground. The one still standing rushed up, falling to his knees at the sight. “No! Sammy, no!” He reached for the body, hands diving into the thickening blood. He turned to look at Colt. “You didn’t have to shoot him.”
“Yes, I did.”
“He’s my brother. You shot my brother.”
“Your brother tried to kill me.”
Even in the moonlight Colt could see the snot and tears streaming down the boy’s face. “He was backing up. He was gonna leave.”
“I gave him plenty of chances.”
The door to the restaurant banged open again. “What’s going on? Doug, are you…? Oh, no.” Melody rushed up, but Doug grabbed her by the waist and held her back. “We have to help him.”
“It’s too late. He’s dead.” Colt never took his eyes off Sammy’s brother. The kid was still a threat and the gun his brother used was a foot away.
“Get the gun, will you, Doug?”
Doug let his sister go and took a step forward, but the kid lunged for it. Colt didn’t hesitate. He put two quick rounds in the space between his eyes. He died before he hit the ground.
This time Melody didn’t scream. She fainted instead.
Day Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirteen
MELODY
Chili’s
Springfield, Oregon
6:00 a.m.
The cup of coffee in her hand did nothing to stop the shaking. Flashbacks of her fight with Captain Ferguson flashed before her eyes. His hands on her body. The menacing look in his eyes. What he intended to do.
She remembered the way his body jerked with each bullet. How he fell to the ground with life still in his eyes. She’d stood up and hobbled away from the first and only man she’d killed and carried on.
The horror of that moment would always stay with her, but it was nothing compared to this. She glanced up at Colt, sacked out on a makeshift bed across the room. The man shot a pair of kids in cold blood and he slept like he’d just had a boring day at the office.
It turned her stomach.
Her brother eased into the chair beside her. “How are you?”
She cut him a glance.
“Ouch. That good, huh?” He sighed and scooted his chair a bit closer. “Don’t be so hard on Colt. He did what he had to do.”
“No, he didn’t. Shooting that kid wasn’t necessary. He could have taken the gun from him and let him go.”
“You weren’t there, Melody. Not at first.”
“And you were?” She eyed her brother. He looked like he’d been on a three-day bender. Black circles clung beneath his eyes and his skin took on a sallow tone. “You didn’t see the whole thing.”
He rubbed his eyes as if to rid himself of the memory. “You need to lay off Colt.”
“Why?”
Doug waited until she met his eyes. “Because it was my fault. I’m the reason those two kids are dead.”
“What?” Melody couldn’t keep her voice low. “I didn’t see you with a gun in your hand. You’re not the one who shot first.”
His jaw ticked as he forced out the words. “I came outside like an idiot, banging the door open and calling out to Colt.” Doug swallowed hard. “I spooked the kid with the gun. He fired into the dark. The bullet hit a foot from my head and blasted concrete dust all over me. Colt was protecting me.”
Melody glanced back at Colt. Her voice must have carried because he wasn’t sleeping anymore. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching her.
She turned back to her brother. “I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true. If he hadn’t shot the first kid, then who knows what would have happened. I could be dead. So could Colt. He did the right thing.”
Melody pursed her lips. “What about the second one? I was there for it. You could have disarmed him.”
“Not if he got to the gun first.” Doug reached out and took Melody by the arms. His fingers dug in but didn’t hurt. “The world is different now, Mel. You should understand that.”
She shook him off. “I do.”
“Not well enough.”
Melody snorted and turned away. On some level her brother had a point, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Colt had a choice and he opted for the wrong one. Taking a person’s life should be the absolute last resort. It wasn’t like choosing which socks to put on or whether to bike or drive to work.
She glanced up at Colt. He still sat in the same spot, his expression stoic and unreadable. Was this the way the world worked now? Take someone’s life before they take yours? Shoot first and don’t bother to ask questions?
If they had never taken Colt and Dani in, she would still be in Eugene, in her own house, sleeping in her own bed. Not dirty and tired and living like a criminal. A yip sounded from a booth a few tables away and Melody turned. Will and Lottie were playing tug with a dishtowel.
Lottie.
Even if she’d stayed in Eugene, she wouldn’t have been safe. At some point a militia member would have found Lottie. And then what would have happened to her? Lottie would be dead. Melody would have been rounded up.
If the bedroom they threw her into was anything to go by, she’d have been forced into unspeakable things sooner or later anyway. Melody rubbed at her face. It was all so unreal.
Maybe Doug was right. Maybe she had to accept that killing was a fact of life now, like peeing behind a bush or in a pit dug in the ground, or using gray water to rinse the grime from her hair.
She wanted to believe otherwise, but the more she thought about it, the more unsure she became of everything. The fate of Oregon, the Pacific Northwest, all of America. Was this same scene playing out all across the country? Were other ordinary people struggling with who to let live and who to kill? How to eat and sleep and not die?
Melody stood up and headed over to Colt. She stopped a few feet away and eased into a chair. He regarded her with calm interest.
She tugged at the corner of her shirt. “I’m sorry I gave you a hard time earlier. I know you were protecting us.”
He nodded but didn’t speak.
“You have so much more experience with taking another person’s life. I guess I’m just having a hard time coming to terms with it.”
“It never gets any easier.”
“It doesn’t?”
Colt ran a hand over his head and pinched the back of his neck. “The day ending another person’s life becomes easy is the day I put a bullet in my own skull. It doesn’t matter if I’ve been trained to pull the trigger, Melody. I’m still human. I still feel it.” He put his fist over his heart. “Right here.”
“Then why do it?”
“Because I want to keep living. It’s as simple as that.” Colt stood up with a grimace and headed toward the kitchen.
Melody watched him walk away.
“That man has put his life on the line for you more times than I can count. I’m not sure questioning his humanity is the right way to say thank you.” Larkin stopped beside her chair and offered his hand.
She took it with a frown and stood up. “That�
�s not what I was doing.”
“When you ask a former SEAL why he kills people, that’s exactly what you’re doing.”
Melody bristled. “I wasn’t questioning his military service.”
“He killed those young men last night for the same reason he killed insurgents on active duty. To protect the freedom everyone in this country takes for granted. Just now it’s on a more localized scale.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“I sure as hell hope not.”
Melody stared up at Larkin. He’d always been so quick to lighten the mood or change the subject before. But he was all grim stares and hard lips now. She didn’t want to fight with him or Colt.
After a moment, she tried to smile, but her lips wouldn’t cooperate. “Is it too much to ask for an uneventful day?”
Larkin relaxed and his whole face changed. The hard angles were gone. “You can always ask. Whether it’ll happen… that’s above my pay grade.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze as he walked away.
Melody exhaled and the weight of the night before settled on her shoulders. She didn’t know if she would ever get used to this new way of living or if she would struggle with every heartbreaking decision and terrible choice. She stood alone in the little corner of the restaurant, thinking about the future and her place in it until Will called out.
“Melody! Come quick! You’ll never believe what they’re doing with the Humvee!”
She smiled at his enthusiasm and followed his bounding form toward the rear of the restaurant and the scene of last night’s horrible nightmare. Part of her wished she could be as innocent and naive as Will. But she wondered, how long would she survive before reality snuffed her out?
Chapter Fourteen
DANI
Chili’s
Springfield, Oregon
7:00 a.m.
“That thing will really run on nasty oil?”
Colt shrugged as the used fryer oil slugged into the gas tank of the Humvee. “Not forever. It’ll get us a couple hundred miles, though, before the filters clog. We might make it all the way to Tahoe.”
