by Harley Tate
All at once it came back. The gunshot, the blackout, the windowless room.
Scrambling off the steps, Walter crouched on the other side of the door and sucked in a deep breath. This is it. Whoever was coming in would either end him or give him means to escape.
Fight or die. He didn’t have a choice.
Chapter Seven
COLT
Clifton Compound
Near Truckee, CA
7:00 p.m.
The second magazine went into his cargo pocket and Colt zipped it up. They had already taken too long. Every minute Walter was missing increased the odds they would never find him. Colt refused to tell Tracy his fears, but the woman wasn’t an idiot.
She had to know that Walter might never come home.
A knock sounded on the door and Colt swung it open. Dani stood outside the cabin holding Lottie and a wadded-up piece of cloth. “I grabbed one of Walter’s shirts. I figure she’ll need something to remember his scent.”
“Good thinking. What weapon do you want?”
Dani chewed on her lip as she thought it over. When Colt first met the girl she was a skinny scrap of a thing, starving for more than just food. Now she was fifteen going on twenty-five. Her dirty-blonde hair had grown out past her shoulders and she could have graced the cover of any fashion magazine if they still existed.
Colt didn’t wait for her to answer. He reached for the 20-gauge shotgun before handing it over. “You should have a pistol, too. Something for backup.”
Dani nodded and plucked a small Glock 42 from the wall. Running into a Camaro at top speed had almost killed them all, but at least there had been a silver lining. A back seat full of weapons and ammo had been a boon no one expected.
Whoever owned the guns was out there, somewhere, but they hadn’t found Colt yet. He hoped it stayed that way.
He bent to rub Lottie, the little Yorkie, on the head and grabbed the small daypack he’d loaded with water and energy bars and backup ammo. “Where’s Larkin?”
“Waiting by the Jeep.”
“Then let’s hit the road.”
They piled in the Jeep and in minutes were driving out of the gate and into the forest of the Sierra Nevada foothills.
Close to an hour later, Colt pulled over beside the grocery store. He’d circled the area twice, headlights blazing, looking for any sign of a person. Nothing. With the temperatures well below freezing, the chances of running into anyone would be slim.
They clambered out, Dani holding Lottie in her arms. Even with the little dog jacket and booties she wore, Lottie was no match for the elements. Keeping her warm would be a priority. If they couldn’t spot a visual on Walter’s whereabouts, they would need her nose.
Colt motioned Larkin over to the store’s entrance. With his flashlight, he pointed out the drops of blood now icing over in the night air.
“Is this where he was standing?”
“I wish I knew. The pharmacy’s at least a hundred and fifty feet away. Even if I’d taken off at a full-speed run, I’d never have made it out here in time.”
Larkin glanced around. “There’s nothing here but ransacked storefronts. Where would he go?”
“The question is where would someone take him.” Colt pointed toward the street. “I followed a set of tire tracks that way, but they petered out just before the highway.”
“If he was abducted via car, they could be anywhere.”
Lottie squirmed in Dani’s arms and gave a yip. The teenager looked up at Colt. “Can I put her down? She wants to help.”
Colt nodded and Dani set the little dog on the freezing snow before holding out Walter’s shirt. “Where is he, girl? Where’s Walter?”
Lottie rooted in the shirt, snuffling up the scent for a moment before taking off, scampering down the slippery sidewalk in the direction Colt found the watch. The three of them followed a few steps behind.
It didn’t take her more than five minutes to find the depression where Colt fished the watch from the ground.
“They must have been on foot. There’s no way she could follow his scent otherwise.”
Colt frowned. “Then where are the footprints? I should have seen some.”
“Not if they were in the ditch. It’s still all slush.”
Lottie ran around in a circle, yipping and jumping on their legs. She was freezing.
Dani scooped up the little dog and held her out to Colt. “Put her in your coat for a minute. I have an idea.”
While Colt warmed Lottie with his body heat and layers of insulation, Dani broke open a pair of hand warmers and shook them until the chemical reaction turned them hot. With Colt’s help, she stuffed them between Lottie’s jacket and her fur.
“They won’t help her paws, but they’re better than nothing.”
“Good thinking.” Larkin used a pair of binoculars to look around. He brought them down, frustrated. “I can’t see anything tonight. The snow’s bright, but the flashlights ruined my night vision.”
Colt nodded. They were too pressed for time to wait for the morning. If Walter was still in the area, they needed to find him. Now. “Put Lottie back down. She’s our best chance.”
Dani did as he asked and gave Lottie another whiff of Walter’s shirt. The little dog took off in an instant, down a cross street Colt hadn’t checked.
As Colt stepped forward to follow her, Larkin grabbed his coat. “I’ll circle back for the Jeep.” He pointed at a partially concealed lot across the street with an abandoned diner on the corner. “I’ll park it there and hunt you all down.”
Colt thanked him and hurried to catch up with Dani. She was following Lottie at a jogging pace down a street that transitioned from strip malls to warehouses.
He called out as he neared. “Where is she going?”
“No idea, but it’s the best chance we’ve got.”
Colt turned off his flashlight and motioned for Dani to do the same. If they were walking into a kidnapper’s turf, advertising their presence wasn’t smart.
The pair lapsed into silence as Lottie slowed down. Every few steps, her nose dove into the snow and she came up with a shake before trotting on down the sidewalk. As she neared another major intersection, the snow turned slick. Multi-story warehouses loomed from the edges of the road, casting exaggerated shadows and blocking out the weak moon.
“'This street doesn’t get much sun. It’s already iced over for the night.”
Dani nodded. “I think she’s lost the scent. It’s buried under the ice.”
Colt watched Lottie as she turned left and right and whimpered. He scooped her up and blew warm air into her boots. “Let’s wait until she warms up and try again.”
“No need.” Larkin’s voice caught Colt off guard. He’d been so consumed with Lottie and her abilities that he’d tuned out the sound of crunching snow. He’d grown soft on the farm.
Larkin stopped beside Colt. “I think I know where they are.” He pointed down the street. “See anything out of place?”
Colt squinted into the moonlight, but Dani spotted it first.
“There’s steam in the air! Up there!” She pointed at a series of rooflines several blocks away and finally Colt saw it.
“That doesn’t prove anything. It could be anyone.”
“It’s the only lead we’ve got. Besides, what are the chances someone else is camping out in this part of town and Lottie leads us straight to them?”
“Maybe they’re cooking up some backyard chickens.”
Larkin cut Colt a glance. “Be serious.”
“I am.” He wished he could be as excited as Dani, but the facts were brutal. Finding Walter more than half a day since he went missing was highly unlikely. He’d have better luck getting struck by lightning. He handed Lottie to Dani. “Go with Larkin and put Lottie in the Jeep. She should be warm enough with the blankets and the hot water bottle.”
“What about you?”
Colt pulled his Sig from his holster and ensured it was ready to fire. “I’ll c
heck it out, but don’t get your hopes up.”
“We’ll meet back here in twenty.” Larkin pulled Dani away and Colt eased off the sidewalk and into the shadows of the closest warehouse. His feet crunched through the snow and for the first time in his life, Colt wished he didn’t weigh two hundred pounds. Dani’s footsteps probably wouldn’t make a sound.
He covered the distance to the warehouse in an agonizing ten minutes, watching every shadow for movement between him and the target. If the place was a hideout, it could have a sentry or a sniper on the roof. Anyone could be waiting in the shadows for someone like Colt to arrive. If Walter was inside, then they could even be expecting him.
Colt crept up to the side wall of the warehouse and leaned against the brick. Warmer than the outside air. Definitely heated. He kept tight to the building, grazing his back along the brick as he worked his way to the rear corner. It was old, built before tractor-trailers made deliveries and steel and aluminum were the building materials of choice.
At the corner, he paused to listen. A hum carried on the stillness, mixing in with the night silence of cold air and desolate, abandoned buildings. He crossed his fingers and wished for a window as he turned the corner.
He found one, but not the kind he wanted. Fifteen feet off the ground, the louvered single panes were excellent for cross-building ventilation, but terrible for reconnaissance. He cursed turn-of-the-century architecture and crept toward the back door. Solid metal with a massive handle, there was no way to open it without waking up every person inside.
Colt scrubbed his face and hurried past the door. The second half of the warehouse mirrored the first, leaving nothing but the front for him to inspect. From his vantage point at the front corner, a series of four windows, two on the right and two on the left, flanked a main entry door. Although they used to let in plenty of morning light, the windows had been long since painted a dull red on the outside to match the brick.
He couldn’t see in even with the Jeep’s high beams for lights.
Damn it to hell. Backtracking to their meetup spot, Colt hurried to a shivering Dani and Larkin.
“Took you long enough. Two more minutes and we were coming after you.”
“It’s definitely occupied. But I can’t see a damn thing inside.”
Larkin fixed him with an experienced stare. “So what do you want to do? Wait until morning?”
“Not a chance.” Colt glanced at Dani. He hated to put her in danger after all she’d been through. “We’ll have to go in.”
Larkin’s shoulders sagged. “Blind. With no information.”
“Seems that way.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.” He swung the shotgun off his shoulder and exhaled. “Then let’s get on with it. At least once we’re inside I’ll stop freezing my balls off.”
Dani snickered beside him and readied her own shotgun, falling in step beside Colt. In no time, they were standing outside the rear door.
Colt took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”
Chapter Eight
TRACY
Clifton Compound
Near Truckee, CA
8:00 p.m.
Every time Tracy snuffed back a frustrated bout of tears, the freezing night air stung her nostrils. She pushed her hood back and absorbed the cold smack across her cheek.
First Madison, now Walter.
Her daughter could be dying and her husband already dead. She’d gone from secure and stable to upended and on the verge of losing the two people who mattered more to her than anyone or anything else in the world.
Icy wind watered her eyes and dulled the panic threatening to rend her useless. Somehow, despite everything she had endured, a part of her believed it would all stop. Surely, the little voice in the back of her mind argued, the country will struggle back to its feet. The horror of the past nine months will disappear into a worn and faded memory. It will all end sometime.
Tracy shuddered. I should take that voice out back and shoot it.
The EMP wasn’t a stumbling block that caused initial riots and unrest followed by crackdowns and order. Nothing got better. Everything just devolved. After the initial run-ins with the National Guard, neither Tracy nor Walter had seen any sign of aid workers nor any branch of the military. The government had been as silent as the radio.
Without electricity, the lights weren’t the only thing to never work again.
Tracy wondered about the larger cities. Were they burnt husks of their former selves? Empty apart from a few stragglers who managed to scavenge to survive? Truckee certainly wasn’t clawing its way back. The town was a burnt-out shell of humanity. Give it five years and it probably wouldn’t exist at all. The forest would claim the tumbled bricks and concrete blocks and erase the American footprint on the land.
The collapse of the grid might as well have been a biological attack or a zombie invasion. From the way Walter talked about downtown Sacramento and Colt described Eugene, they suffered even more. She couldn’t imagine what New York City must be like. Was that where the government focused their efforts? Did the major population centers scoop up all the attention and aid?
Tracy stepped off the porch and stalked out into the snow. With nine months of no light pollution, the fear of a pitch-black night no longer kept Tracy inside. The moon and stars—too many to conceive of—reflected off the snow and turned an electric-free winter into a natural night-light. With no neighbors for miles, they were alone. Ten people in a handful of cabins, working together and pooling resources for the greater good.
Could small towns where everyone knew everyone else be thriving? With so much of the country used for animal herds and crops, there must have been pockets of resilience. The Clifton compound couldn’t be the only working farm this side of the Sierra Nevadas.
Tracy stopped walking and pressed icy fingers to her eyelids. I’ve got to stop this line of thought. She couldn’t do anything about the collapse of the United States. She couldn’t change the trajectory of the country or the downward spiral of even her own family into mere subsistence living.
All she could do was concentrate on their immediate needs: shelter, food, water. It was the best anyone could hope for now. Walter’s absence tugged at her heart. Not hitting the road to search for him drove her practically insane. Combined with Madison’s injury and the threat of rabies, she wanted nothing more than to accomplish something.
But Colt, Larkin, and the rest of the group were right; she couldn’t leave Madison now.
What if something happened to her? What if Walter was already dead? Leaving her daughter alone because she tried to be the hero and failed would be worse than losing Walter. Tracy had to hope her husband was alive and that Colt would find him.
But it wasn’t like Walter to disappear or to leave something as meaningful as his watch behind. That watch had survived everything from the emergency landing in Oregon to the escape from Sacramento and the years of ordinary life beforehand. He wouldn’t let it slip off his wrist. Something bad had happened. She knew it.
Tracy exhaled.
She had to have faith things wouldn’t get worse. It was the best she could do.
As she turned to head inside, a disturbance in the snow caught her ear. Was it an animal? An intruder? Visions of snarling mountain lions or bobcats filled her mind and Tracy dug out the flashlight in her pocket. She clicked it on and pointed the beam at the edge of the tree line thirty feet ahead.
A patch of reddish fur wriggled in the snow bank. Fireball? Could the little cat be out in the elements? If he were outside, then he was at risk of being caught or injured. Tracy stepped off the porch and hurried toward the animal.
Ten feet away, she froze. The pricked ears and black paws weren’t attached to a fluffy cat with a penchant for field mice. It was a fox.
With a bloodied right rear leg, it had to be the one that bit Madison. Tracy stared at it. The animal bobbed and weaved like a drunkard, stumbling forward and back and never getting anywhere. Was it delirious? We
ak from the injury and pain?
Tracy eased closer. The animal snarled and Tracy jumped but it didn’t advance. Instead, it flattened its ears and pounced at the snow bank, attacking nothing.
A shiver rushed down Tracy’s back. An erratic and discombobulated animal could be more than injured. It could be sick with a latent infection or Tracy’s worst fear: rabies. She fluffed her parka up in the back and eased a handgun from the appendix holster clipped to her jeans.
Cold and unforgiving, the steel frame of the handgun slowed her frantic heart. Taking aim, Tracy steadied her breath and her hand and pulled the trigger. The crack of the shot echoed through the snowy woods as the fox fell in a lump in the snow.
Tracy closed the gap between her and the dead animal before crouching at its feet. Ice crystals melted into the burnt orange fur as blood from the chest wound spread out in a half circle. Tracy poked at the animal’s shoulder with the muzzle of the gun until the carcass rolled over.
She pushed up the fur around its snout and used the flashlight to inspect the fox’s mouth. No obvious foaming, but plenty of spit and spittle.
“Tracy!”
A familiar voice called out from the dark and Tracy turned around to see Brianna standing in the light of the cabin door with a rifle in her hands.
“It’s okay. I’m over here.” Tracy waved the flashlight and Brianna hurried down to join her.
“What’s going on? I heard a shot?”
Tracy pointed at the furry heap in front of her. “It’s the fox from Madison’s trap.”
“You killed it?”
“It was injured.” She shined the light on the mangled rear leg. “It was stumbling around in a circle, disoriented and out of sorts.”
“From the blood loss?”
“That or a sickness.” She glanced at Brianna. “It could have rabies.”
The younger girl stood up with a start. “Do you really think so?”
“It’s possible.” Tracy pulled the gums back again. “See all this? It could be some foaming.”
