by Kyla Stone
“Get behind me, Eden!” she cried. “Now!”
Startled out of her fugue, Eden shuffled like a sleepwalker toward Dakota.
Dakota shoved the girl behind her, against the wall.
Maddox stood, but he didn’t come after her. The gun was in his hand, but it was aimed low, at her knees. He swayed on his feet. His face was so pale she could make out the blue veins beneath his skin.
He spat a string of yellowish spittle.
“You’re sick,” she said. “You have acute radiation syndrome.”
“I should be dead a thousand times over.”
That part, she couldn’t disagree with. Maddox Cage was a cunning creature. Maybe he never came out on top, but he always made it out alive somehow, even when lesser men would’ve fallen.
“The Lord spared me,” he said.
“The radiation will still kill you.”
Even sick as he was, he managed to sneer. His steely blue eyes bored into hers. “It won’t. I have a holy mission. This is only a test. One I will pass.”
“You should’ve killed me when you had the chance. Isn’t that what you promised?”
He laughed, spittle flying from his lips. “I wanted to. I’ve imagined a hundred ways to make you suffer.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“I’ve missed you,” he said, ignoring her question. “You know that?”
Her stomach clenched. Her head swam with memories—the two of them in their early teens, sneaking around the docks, stealing one of the airboats to explore the Glades for a lazy afternoon, for a few moments of escape from their stifling, restrictive lives.
Maddox’s face was younger then, boyish and unlined, his dirty blonde hair spilling into those sly blue eyes. His features were more mischievous than cunning, but there was still a sharpness to him even as a boy.
They had been something like friends, once upon a time.
He was the one who offered her a reprieve from the exhausting toil of endless tasks the Prophet bestowed upon the females of the compound. He was the one who shared her doubts, who appreciated a barbed jab at the compound leadership—and even God Himself—on occasion.
The black sheep of his family, Maddox was the only one who understood the shame, the loneliness, what it felt like to be ostracized, singled out, scapegoated and punished for the sins of someone else. Though he was several years older than Dakota, that shared experience had connected them somehow.
At least until his father ordered Maddox to conduct her punishments in the mercy room.
Then Maddox began to hate her almost as much as he hated himself.
“It didn’t have to be this way,” she said.
“Wrong again.” He shook his head slowly, resigned. “It always had to be this way.”
Three feet above Maddox’s head, a bullet struck the side of the house.
9
Dakota
Maddox cursed and crouched. Another bullet sang through the air and cracked a Spanish tile from the roof above them. Broken pieces rained down on Maddox’s head.
Dakota spun and went for Eden. She pulled the girl down beside her and pointed past the pond, the way they’d come but to the right, out of the line of fire.
Across the backyard, she glimpsed movement. Logan was crouched at the side of a huge two-story house behind a large AC unit.
More bullets sailed over their heads as Maddox returned fire.
Logan couldn’t have many bullets left. If they were going to make the most of this, they had to go now. “Come on!”
Eden crouched, gasping, her eyes glassy. She was panicking, hyperventilating, rigid with terror. Dakota looped her arm beneath Eden’s underarms and dragged her back. “Hurry!”
Half-bent, they dashed around the pond and across the manicured lawns. Dakota’s muscles ached with exhaustion, her heart pumping sluggishly. She couldn’t go much further before her body gave out on her.
They ran between two houses and came out one street over from Bellview Court. She looked back as she ran, searching for Maddox. Logan had him pinned. No one was chasing them. But she was terrified to stop. He was still too close. He could—
Abruptly, Julio was there, grabbing her shoulders. “Hey! I’ve got you! It’s okay!”
She longed to sag into the comfort of his embrace. Instead, she used her remaining strength to hoist Eden up beside her. “We’ve got to get out of here. We need a car.”
“Come with me.”
She twisted to look back again. “But Logan—”
“Can take care of himself. Come on.”
For once, she gave in. She let Julio take her by the arm and pull her back toward the others.
Shay crouched beside Harlow’s body. Park had raised himself into a sitting position on the stretcher, his shoulders hunched, legs hanging over the sides. He stared down at Harlow’s limp form.
“She’s dead,” he said in disbelief. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. “She was just here, and then she wasn’t. She’s just…gone.”
Julio crossed himself. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Park. May I say a prayer for her soul?”
“She wasn’t religious. She always said she wanted to be Buddhist ‘cause she loved the idea of reincarnation, of coming back in the form you deserved, you know? But I guess it doesn’t matter now, does it?”
“What would she come back as?” Shay asked as she gently closed Harlow’s vacant eyes.
“Knowing her?” Park choked out a half-sob, half-laugh. “Probably a rhinoceros.”
Dakota’s gut twisted. She didn’t feel grief. She didn’t know the woman well enough to grieve for her. But anger, she knew well.
Maddox had no right to take Harlow’s life. Or anyone’s life. He talked all virtuous and self-righteous, like he believed the utter crap he spewed—just like his father, the Prophet, Jacob, and all the rest.
She should’ve found a way to kill him. She shouldn’t have run. She should have ended it with him, right there, right then. But Eden…
The girl had been standing in the line of fire. It was the innocent bystanders who always paid with their lives. She had chosen to protect Eden over taking vengeance. No matter how it ate at her now, it was a choice she’d make again.
Eden pulled away. Dakota let her go.
Eden trudged to the spot where she’d dropped her notepad, the pen tucked inside, and picked it up. She clutched the notepad to her chest and stood there, staring glassy-eyed at nothing.
Dakota retrieved her Sig, inserted the magazine carefully with her bandaged palm, and chambered a round. She didn’t holster the gun but kept it in her hands, ready.
Her vision went blurry with fatigue. She blinked hard, scanning the houses and yards behind them, searching for Logan and Maddox. She hadn’t heard a gunshot in a few minutes.
Something moved near the rear of a yellow house opposite them, about forty yards away. She stiffened, adrenaline spiking. She raised her pistol, finger on the trigger, and sighted the corner wall. “Come out slow and steady.”
Logan stepped into the yard, both arms up, the Glock in one hand. “It’s me.”
She lowered her gun, relieved.
Logan stomped up to her, his face livid. Anger radiated off him in waves. “Who the hell was that asshole I just risked my life to run off? What the hell are you doing?”
Guilt skewered her, but she lifted her chin. “Not now. There’s no time.”
Logan leaned in close, his eyes spitting fury. “We’re not finished here.”
She ignored his outrage. There were more pressing concerns. “What happened with Maddox?” Her throat tightened. “Did you—did you kill him?”
“He got away.”
“What do you mean, ‘got away’?” Dakota asked, her breath catching at the thought of Maddox still out there. Circling them, hunting, closing in.
Logan holstered his Glock. “I’m out of bullets. He wasn’t. Luckily, he turned tail and ran instead of attacking again. Otherwise, I’d be telling a far diff
erent story.”
Dakota shook her head. Dread and confusion coiled in her gut. “No. That doesn’t make sense. That’s not Maddox. He doesn’t run away.”
Logan shrugged, his eyes hard. “I don’t know what to tell you. I followed him for several blocks. He was staggering, clutching his stomach. Maybe I hit him, but I doubt it. He looked sick as a dog. Hopefully, he crawls into a hole somewhere and dies.”
“He might be gone now, but he’ll come back,” she said. “He won’t give up. Maddox never gives up. I have bullets. I should go after him. I should kill him.”
“We don’t have the time.” Julio gestured at the sun hovering just above the tree line. “We’re still in the hot zone. We have multiple wounded people who need to get to the EOC and receive medical care, including you.”
“I’m fine,” Dakota rasped.
“And your so-called sister?” Logan asked.
Dakota spun around.
Eden had sunk to her knees. Her face was gray. She turned her head, gagged, and spewed a sickly string of yellow vomit into the grass.
10
Logan
Logan watched Dakota run to her sister.
“She has radiation sickness,” he said. “And I think I do, too.”
His guts felt like some unseen hand was tying his intestines into knots. His skull was pounding. Even though the evening air had cooled, it felt like he was trapped inside a sauna.
“I feel okay,” Julio said. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” Shay said dully from beside Harlow’s body. She rose heavily to her feet and leaned against the stretcher for balance. “With radiation exposure between one and two gray, some people will get sick; others won’t. Some will live long, healthy lives, but five percent will die within months.”
She tilted her chin at Eden. “She was exposed to higher radiation, but I can’t tell you how much, not until we get her to a doctor.”
Shay tried to stand on her own and walk to Eden. She swayed and sank back down onto the curb.
Julio rushed over to her. “Are you okay?”
She touched her bandaged head. “Yeah…”
“This isn’t the time for optimism,” Julio said. “If you’re hurting, we need to know.”
Helping Park set his broken bones and then tending to Dakota after the fire had taken a lot out of her. Her face was ashen. She was sucking in rapid, shallow breaths.
“I’m…dizzy from the blood loss,” Shay admitted. “I’m sorry.”
Dakota looked back one more time in the direction Maddox had fled. She obviously wanted to go after him and empty a mag into his chest, or worse. The desire was written all over her face.
Logan hadn’t wanted to let him go, either. He hated the threat of a hostile out there somewhere. Even if Maddox was sick enough that Logan could hunt, ambush, and overpower him without a weapon, it would take precious time they didn’t have.
Dakota let out a frustrated breath and set her jaw. “You’re right. We’ve got to get to medical care. That’s our first priority.”
“What about Harlow?” Park stared down at her body with glassy, unfocused eyes. “She is—was—a good person. We can’t just leave her like this.”
Julio exchanged a glance with Logan. “What if we carry her into a house across the street, wrap her in a blanket, and leave her on a bed? We’ll write down the address, and as soon as we get to the EOC, we can report it to the authorities. They’ll come take care of it.”
Park nodded in weary resignation.
Something thumped behind them.
Logan and Dakota whirled toward the sound.
Someone moved behind the gray F-150.
“Is it safe?” a man asked in a quivering voice.
“Yes,” Shay said at the same time Dakota snapped, “No!”
“Come out, but leave your weapons behind,” Logan called, his adrenaline spiking. “Keep your hands where we can see them.”
“I’m putting down my Remington. Just…don’t shoot.” A Caucasian couple stood up slowly, moved around the truck, and walked toward them.
“This is my wife, Vanessa,” the man said, tense but not hostile. Dressed in pressed khakis and a golf shirt, he was average height and weight, with black-rimmed glasses and graying hair. “We’ve lived in this neighborhood for twelve years. Just who are you people, and what do you want?”
“I came here to get Eden,” Dakota said. “We were attacked by…a looter. Now, we’re getting the hell out of the hot zone.”
The woman, Vanessa, looked from Dakota to Eden. She was in her forties and trim with short, carefully styled auburn hair and tasteful makeup. She wore diamond earrings and a pearl necklace draped around her neck. The fear only partially faded from her expression as she realized they weren’t a threat. “And how do you know these people, dear?”
“Eden is my—” Dakota cleared her throat uncomfortably, then scowled. “She’s my sister.”
Vanessa smoothed her hair with shaking fingers, regaining her composure. “Oh, the sister! We’ve heard so much about you. Eden is such a lovely girl. She walked our little Yorkshire Terrier, Munchkin, every day after school until he passed last month.”
“It was cool of you to try and defend us, but you nearly shot me.” Dakota looked like she was restraining herself from punching the guy in the teeth.
“I was trying to shoot you. I thought you were thieves and looters.”
“Have you been here since it happened?” Julio asked Carson, trying to change the subject.
“We’ve been sheltering in place,” Vanessa said, “just like the emergency broadcasts instructed. We were at Carson’s office for the first day and a half, but we just wanted to be home. We drove back yesterday afternoon…” Her voice faltered. “I…I work on Brickell Key as a litigator for Juniper, Hollandale, and Associates. I just finished a huge case and took the morning off to surprise Carson at his office for lunch…I was supposed to be right there, when it happened. On any other day, I would’ve been there.”
She looked crushed, stricken. “All my co-workers are dead. All of them…I heard what they said on the radio. My building…it’s not even there anymore.”
She hugged herself, her movements slow and jerky, like a sleep-walker moving through a nightmare she couldn’t escape from.
None of them could.
Carson slipped his arm around her shoulder to comfort her. “Where are Gabriella and Jorge Ross?” he asked, as if he’d just realized his neighborhood was completely abandoned. “Eden is their foster child.”
Eden scribbled something on her notepad and held it up. They never came back.
Vanessa blinked rapidly, a distant, vacant look in her eyes. “I’m sure they’re fine…in a hotel somewhere, perhaps…”
“We’re heading to the airport to catch a plane to stay with Vanessa’s brother in Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin,” Carson said. “We can’t stay here with this fire, and there’s no way to call 911 with the power out. It should be safe there.”
“Planes are grounded all across the country.” Julio quickly explained everything they knew so far, with Park adding a few things they’d missed. “The airport is the acting Emergency Operations Center. They have food, shelter, and medical care.”
Julio didn’t say anything about Dakota, Eden, Shay, and Logan moving on to Dakota’s friend in the Everglades, which was wise. It wasn’t their business.
Vanessa raised a trembling hand to her mouth. “The government is there, at this emergency place? It’ll be safe?”
“Yes,” Dakota said. “That’s where we’re going now.”
The husband and wife exchanged weighted looks. The wife tilted her chin, still trembling, but the husband shook his head in some long-practiced non-verbal communication only they understood.
Carson straightened his thick glasses and cleared his throat. “Look, I’m an orthodontist. I run a successful family-owned business in Buena Vista. We aren’t prepared for what’s out there. I’m smart enough to know that. I ha
ve my Remington rifle, but I admit I’m not a great shot. My wife can’t shoot, and if I’m driving…we have no way to protect ourselves if bandits try to carjack our vehicle or steal our things.
“You all seem like decent folk who know what you’re doing. And you’re well-armed. If you’ll escort us to the Emergency Operations Center, we can offer transport. We’ve got a Ford F-150 SuperCrew that seats six in the cab, with room in the bed if needed.”
He looked at Logan, his apprehensive gaze straying to the tattoos snaking up his arms. He cleared his throat again. “It seems to me there’s safety in numbers.”
Julio and Shay looked to Dakota and Logan. Logan figured Dakota was adding up their lack of bullets and able-bodied manpower in her head, just like he was.
They were running out of options. They could waste time searching for a van or SUV in the neighborhood, along with the matching key fob, but the sun was setting fast.
If they wanted to get out of here quickly, they didn’t have much choice.
“Fine,” Dakota said. “But you defer to Logan on matters of security.”
Logan raised his brows, pleasantly surprised, but didn’t say anything. No way she was winning him over that easily.
“Deal,” Carson said.
“I need more ammo,” Logan said.
“What about my .308 Remington 700?” Carson offered. “My father passed it down to me when he died. You’re welcome to use it. I have four boxes of ammunition.”
A bolt-action rifle was accurate, dependable, and trouble-free. Logan wouldn’t get off as many rapid-fire shots as with a semi-auto, but the rifle would hit its mark.
“Done,” he said with palpable relief.
Dakota cast a sharp glance at the darkening sky. “And we leave in five minutes.”
11
Dakota
Dakota and the others hurried as they prepared to leave. Vanessa provided several blankets from her guest bedroom, and Julio and Logan helped Park and Eden into the bed of the truck so they could lie down.
