by Harley Tate
Electricity.
Without it, everyone was on their own.
He leaned back. “This new life isn’t so bad. We’ve still got coffee. Food. Shelter.”
Larkin smirked. “And I’m one hot blonde away from paradise.”
Colt chuckled, but it was short-lived. While they’d talked, Lottie had woken up. The little Yorkie stood by the rear door to the warehouse, a growl rumbling in her belly.
He set the mug on the ground and clambered to his feet, Sig in his hand without a moment’s hesitation. “Wake up Dani. I’ll check it out.”
While Larkin hustled across the warehouse, Colt crept toward the door. Were the thugs who took Walter back already? If so, they didn’t waste much time. Overnight and back again meant an operation close by.
Thanks to breaking in the night before, Colt knew the door hinges squeaked. He waited on the other side, listening for any hint of the metal-on-metal screeching.
It didn’t take long.
Come at me. I’m ready. Colt raised the Sig Sauer, holding it level with two hands. Still an expert marksman thanks to countless hours on the range to maintain his air marshal status, Colt had complete faith in his skill. He could shoot a pea off the top of a bottle across a field.
That old saying about doing something blindfolded with one hand behind his back? He might have tried it. Shooting an intruder square in the chest was child’s play.
The door swung open and a pale face darted out from behind the metal like a rat on recon in a dirty kitchen. Colt advanced; a quick one-two-three shuffle. The kid didn’t stand a chance. Before he knew what was happening, the barrel of Colt’s gun pressed up against his temple and his lip quivered like Jell-O.
Colt dragged him inside by the worn-out scruff of his collar. “Who the hell are you?”
“Nobody. I’m nobody.” The kid held up his hands. His fingers shook. Younger than Dani, twice as scared. “Don’t shoot me.”
Colt sucked in a breath. “Identify yourself.” A bead of the kid’s sweat rolled over the barrel of the gun and dripped to the floor.
“F-Frankie.”
“Got a last name, Frankie?”
“Jones.”
Colt eased up a fraction on the gun. “You part of the group that was here yesterday?”
Frankie’s head rattled. “No, man. I’m not one of ’em.”
“Then what are you here for?”
“I’m a scavenger.”
Colt inched the gun forward. “A what?”
“Scavenger. Those guys are always leavin’ somethin’ behind. Candy bars. Cigarettes.”
“What are they like?”
“I don’t know.”
The kid shied away, but Colt still held his collar. He twisted the grubby fabric in his fingers.
“Try again.”
“There’s a lot of ’em.”
“When do they come? How long do they stay away?”
“I don’t know!” Frankie whimpered and fingers twitched. “I’m telling the truth! I just wait until they leave, run in and run out. I don’t stick around to get caught.”
Colt spun them both around so he stood between Frankie and the door. He let him go with a shove before slamming the door shut. The kid had to know something. He was just too scared to admit it.
With a wave of his hand, Colt ushered Dani over. “Fish out something to eat, will you?” He glanced at the kid. All skin and bones. “Jerky and water.”
“No freakin’ way.” Dani cut Frankie a glance and crossed her arms. “You just gotta rough him up a little. He’s soft. He’ll talk.”
“We don’t always have to be the bad guy.”
She snorted. “We don’t owe him anything.”
Colt dropped his voice. “Let’s give him a chance.”
“Fine.” Dani stomped over to their supplies while Colt kept his gun on the kid. Frankie shrank into himself, hugging his hollow chest with his arms.
“I’m tellin’ the truth. I don’t know nothin’.”
Larkin approached Colt from the other side of the warehouse. He zipped up his parka and motioned toward the door. “I’ll do a perimeter check, make sure he’s alone.”
Colt nodded. Wouldn’t be the first time they'd encountered a decoy sent to distract them from the real danger.
Dani returned from their gear holding a bottle of water and a handful of dried meat. While Larkin opened the door, Colt took his eyes off Frankie to grab the food. It was enough of a chance for the kid. He took off, lunging for the door.
Colt took aim. “You keep running and you’re dead before your hand touches that handle.”
The kid didn’t stop. Colt swore beneath his breath and took off, sprinting to close the distance. As Frankie wrapped his hand around the handle, Colt grabbed his arm. He yanked, hard, and the kid crumpled to the ground.
Colt straddled him and kicked, rolling Frankie onto his back. With his gun aimed square at the space between Frankie’s eyes, Colt put a foot on his chest and pressed. “Give me something or I take the girl up on her offer and practice my soccer moves.”
Frankie’s eyes widened and his face paled to match the concrete floor. “When they leave, they take the north road out of town. Across the highway.”
“Where?”
“There’s a farm. A big white house with three grain silos. You can’t miss it.”
Larkin opened the door. “All clear. If he’s got any friends, they didn’t come with him this trip.”
Colt lifted his foot and Frankie sucked in a breath. He tossed the jerky at the kid’s chest. “Take it and go.”
“What?” Dani stepped forward, but Colt stuck out his arm. “He gave us what we wanted to know.”
“That doesn’t mean we give him our food.”
Colt waited until Frankie scrambled to his feet and scurried out the door. “He could be an asset.”
“He could be lying through his teeth.” Dani palmed her hips. “He could be running to that farmhouse right now and telling them we’re on the hunt.”
“Doesn’t matter if he does.”
“Why not?”
“He’ll never outrun the Jeep.” Colt holstered his gun and motioned toward the gear. “Pack up. Let’s get Walter.”
Chapter Eleven
TRACY
Clifton Compound
Near Truckee, CA
6:00 a.m.
A gray wash lightened the sky above the forest as Tracy tramped across the hard-packed snow to the supplies cabin. Half an hour until sunrise and most everyone still slept, snuggled in down sleeping bags to ward off the winter chill.
Without fruit and vegetables to harvest and fewer eggs this time of year, the chores around the Clifton property could be accomplished in the daylight. Tracy wished Madison had opted for mucking out the pig pen this past week instead of checking traps. If she hadn’t insisted on working the line, she wouldn’t be suffering in the bunk room.
Tracy yawned away her fatigue. All night, she’d stayed up watching Madison for signs of rabies. So far, her daughter seemed no worse than anyone with a leg injury. No fever, no uncontrollable sweating or mood swings.
She hadn’t had the heart to tell Madison about the fox, but she would have to explain before she left. Madison would need to know the symptoms. She would need to prepare for the worst in case Tracy didn’t make it back in time.
Tracy stomped the clumped snow off her boots and tried to send her negative thoughts along with it. Prepping for a trip required focus, not distraction. With a deep breath, she opened the cabin door and stepped inside.
The supply cabin housed more than just food and medicine; the small footprint also stored weapons and camping supplies. Tracy eased out of her jacket and hung it on a hook before setting down her small bundle of clothes.
She didn’t know how long she’d be gone, but she needed to pack light. With Colt, Larkin, and Dani using the Jeep to search for Walter, Tracy had no choice but to travel on foot. The farm couldn’t afford to lose its only other working f
our-wheeler if she didn’t come home.
After regrouping from the attack on the Cliftons’ place, Larkin and Walter had tried for months to find working vehicles in and around Truckee. It proved surprisingly difficult. Only older cars lent themselves to hot-wiring, and thanks to emissions standards and lease deals before the EMP, there weren’t many around.
Add in a few months on the side of the road and even if they could open the steering column and join the wires, the engines wouldn’t crank. They had taken to siphoning gas and maintaining the cars they had, instead.
Tracy exhaled and went back to work, picking out a small, one-shouldered pack that fit over her parka. It wouldn’t hold a tent or a sleeping bag, but she could do without. Rabies vaccines were stashed in hospitals, not forests.
She stuffed a single change of clothes and two pairs of wool socks into a small stuff sack and rolled it to squeeze out the air before adding it to the pack. A travel trauma kit was next.
Unzipping it to check the contents, Tracy checked off her mental inventory: two pairs of nitrile gloves, EMT shears, a tourniquet, Sharpie, QuikClot gauze, an Israeli bandage, mylar blanket, burn gel, and a Surgicel hemostat. All there. Thanks to the Cliftons, Tracy now knew basic trauma first aid and how to use all the supplies.
She’d come a long way in nine months. Tracy zipped up the pouch and slipped it into the pack before grabbing a simple first aid kit and tossing it in, too. Between the two kits, Tracy could survive a bullet wound or a nasty accident and have a fighting chance to make it home.
With half a bag left, Tracy loaded up on mechanicals and defense. A backup Glock 19, same as what she carried now day-to-day, three magazines, and a box of ammo. Although the car crash that led to the deaths of most of Colt’s friends was tragic, it came with the gift of an arsenal. Tracy would forever be thankful that something positive came out of that tragedy.
As she finished filling the pack with a multi-tool, flashlight, and few other odds and ends, the door to the cabin opened. The morning sun lit up Brianna’s curls like a halo before she shut the door. “You’re not doing this alone.”
“Yes, I am.” Tracy zipped up the pack and plucked her parka off the wall. “I’m not putting anyone else’s life in danger.”
“You’ll never find what you need.”
Tracy shook her head. “With Colt, Dani, and Larkin out looking for Walter, we’re already dangerously shorthanded around here. If you come with me, that leaves only your parents and Peyton to hold down the entire place. It’s asking too much.”
Brianna reached for a shotgun and a box of shells. “If I don’t come with you, Madison could die.”
“If you come with me and this place is attacked, it won’t matter.”
“That’s not going to happen and you know it.” Brianna loaded the shotgun as she argued. “We’ve increased our perimeter defenses, the solar panels have full charges, and thanks to Walter’s work we can see and hear anyone coming long before they reach the farm. It’s as secure with three people as it is with ten.”
Tracy shoved her arms in her coat sleeves. “I can’t ask you to come with me. Madison is my daughter. You and your family have already done so much to help us.”
“Madison’s my best friend. I’m not sitting around here and watching her die when I could be out there, finding a cure to save her.” Brianna pushed a riot of curls off her face and pointed at the door. “I’m going whether you want me to or not.”
“Your parents will never forgive me if you get hurt.”
“They’ll understand.”
Tracy frowned and tried one last time. “We don’t even know if the fox had rabies. This could all be for nothing. You should stay.”
“And the virus could be racing through Madison’s tissue right now, struggling to find a way to her nervous system. Every minute we waste arguing is a minute she might not have.” Brianna yanked open the door. “The rest of my gear is with Madison. You should say goodbye before we leave.”
Tracy watched the twenty-year-old stomp out of the supply cabin and down the hard-packed trail to the makeshift infirmary. Changing Brianna’s mind would be impossible. If anything, the past few months of working the land and beefing up their defenses only made the girl more headstrong and determined. Brianna wasn’t the type to settle down and enjoy the quiet life. She craved the kind of action they met while out on the road.
Tracy frowned as she followed the girl. Tracy would let Brianna tag along, but it didn’t mean she had to like it. She thought about Anne waking up and finding her daughter gone and it filled her with dread. If the roles were reversed, Tracy would be consumed by worry.
After stomping her boots off on the porch, she slipped inside. Brianna sat beside Madison’s cot on the far wall, their young heads almost touching as they talked. As Tracy shut the door, Madison leaned toward her.
“Do you really have to go?”
Tracy dug her thumbnail into her palm to keep from tearing up. “I’m afraid so.” She smiled at her daughter. “We need to find you some medicine.”
“The wound isn’t that bad. We have some fish mox left. I’m sure I’ll recover just fine.”
“It’s not a bacterial infection we’re worried about.”
Brianna glanced at Tracy. “Your mom found the fox. It was… acting strange.”
Madison’s eyes widened as she stared at Tracy. “How?”
“It was pawing the ground and snarling, walking in circles. It seemed disoriented and confused.”
“That could be the blood loss. It was injured from the trap.”
Tracy closed the distance and sat on the edge of Madison’s cot. She took her daughter’s hand. “Or it could be rabies.”
Madison’s face paled. “If it is—”
“Then you need a vaccine as soon as possible.”
“If I don’t get it?”
Brianna exhaled. “You’ll die and it won’t be pretty.”
Madison leaned back against the wall. “How long do I have?”
“It depends on how far the infection had progressed in the fox. If his spit was raging with virus, then a few days. As long as the virus hasn’t reached your nervous system, a vaccine will cure you.”
“Once it has?”
“Then it’s hopeless.”
Tracy squeezed her daughter’s hand. “I’ve heard of people living for months without symptoms.”
“It’s true. Sometimes the virus takes months or even years to reach the brain. But the sooner we get you medicine, the better.” Brianna stood up. “You’re lucky the fox bit you in the leg.”
Madison tried to smile, but it came out in a grimace. She grabbed Brianna’s hand. “Are you going?”
She nodded. “I’m going to help your mom. Thanks to that infectious disease class I took sophomore year, I know what to look for.”
Tracy leaned forward. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”
“Don’t get killed for me.” Madison’s eyes shimmered. “Dad needs you.”
“I love you, honey.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
Tracy hugged her daughter, holding her breath to keep from shaking. Madison wouldn’t die. They would go on the hunt and find the medicine and come back home in time.
She pulled away.
“Even if you don’t find the vaccine, there’s a good chance I’m not infected. I still think the fox was just hurt.”
“We can’t take the chance.” Tracy stood up as Brianna reached in for a quick hug.
The younger woman dropped her voice, but Tracy could still make out the words. “If you start to show signs of the disease—confusion, fever, drooling—stay inside. You don’t want to infect anyone else.”
Tracy shivered. The thought of losing her daughter to a disease like rabies filled her with dread. She wouldn’t let that happen. They would find a vaccine and prevent the sickness.
As Brianna gathered her things, Tracy waved once more at Madison and stepped outside. The cold winter air forced tears from her eyes
and she wiped at her face.
Madison would be okay. Colt would find Walter. They would all make it home.
She kept repeating the affirmations in her mind over and over until Brianna joined her on the front porch. A warm glow lit up the eastern sky as the sun rose for yet another day.
“Ready?”
Tracy nodded. “Now or never.”
Chapter Twelve
TRACY
Unoccupied Forest
Near Truckee, CA
10:00 a.m.
“At least it’s not snowing.” Brianna wiped a blob of wind-induced snot from under her nose and keep trudging. Almost two hours into their trek and they were nearing the outskirts of Truckee.
It took concentration and stamina to hike through soft, loose snow. They’d barely said more than a few words to each other, focusing instead on not falling down or stepping in an unseen hole. But as the terrain leveled out, Tracy broached a topic she’d only touched on in the months post-EMP.
“Back in college, were you decided on a major?”
Brianna glanced up. “Not a hundred percent, but I was leaning toward veterinary medicine.”
“Hence the infectious disease class.”
She nodded. “I’d taken all the intro science classes and that was my first elective. Tucker was always trying to get me to try for med school, but I didn’t want to work that hard.”
At the mention of Brianna’s boyfriend, Tucker, her voice warbled. It had been over six months since he died. A pang of guilt lodged in Tracy’s chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories.”
Brianna lapsed into silence and Tracy changed the subject. “The vet clinic we’re headed to, is it in town?”
“No. It’s a country vet. We took the pigs there when they were having a skin problem a few years back. The doctor saw farm animals, mostly.” Brianna stopped and fished a map from her bag. She tugged off a glove and pointed at a red dot of marker. “That’s our place.”
Tracing a line down the hilly terrain to the flatter areas closer to town, she stopped at a rural intersection of a pair of two-lane highways. “Here’s the vet.”
