by Harley Tate
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.”
Madison’s finger trigger itched. She wanted to shoot him so badly. Make him suffer for what he did to Wanda. Memories of her lifeless body and Tucker’s blood-soaked hands filled Madison’s mind. Her vision blurred. “Not good enough. I need an answer. Did you do it? Did you kill her?”
“Madison, maybe you should—”
She swung the shotgun around and pointed it at Tucker. “He shouldn’t get away with it.”
“But if you kill him, you won’t be any better than him. Wanda’s gone. I know. Her life slipped through my fingers. Killing Bill won’t bring her back.”
“It would feel damn good, though.”
Tucker nodded. “For now. But what about tomorrow? Or the day after? You’ll have to live with that guilt forever.”
Madison twisted back around, the barrel of the shotgun parading over the faces in the crowd. A little girl of no more than five stood a few feet from Bill, her arms wrapped around her mother’s thigh. Madison paused, concern drawing her brows together.
So many innocent people. None of them had any clue as to how the world was changing. They would learn soon enough. Madison didn’t need to be the one to bring it about. She focused on the little girl, her brown hair the same shade as Madison’s own.
She couldn’t kill a man in front of a child. No matter how much he deserved it. With a jagged exhale, she lowered the shotgun and focused on Bill. “This conversation is over.”
As she stepped back, Madison took a moment to look over all the faces in the crowd. “If any one of you so much as steps a foot onto Sloane property or touches one of our cars, so help me God, I’ll drop you where you stand. Is that clear?”
The crowd murmured, heads averted and bent. The little girl ducked behind her mother, a flash of the pale yellow dress she wore the only evidence she even existed. In moments, the crowd dispersed, people walking back to their homes in groups of two and three.
Tucker appeared by her side. “Thanks, Madison.”
“Don’t thank me yet. If that man so much as looks our way, I declare it just cause.”
Brianna walked up and clapped Madison on the shoulder. “Good job reigning it in, babe. I wouldn’t have been so neighborly.”
Madison exhaled and turned toward the cars. It had taken all her strength not to shoot. She hoped she wouldn’t regret it. “Come on. We need to check on my mom. She should be awake by now.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
WALTER
Downtown Sacramento
6:00 a.m.
“We’re never gonna get out of here.”
Walter cast Drew an irritated glance. “Not with that attitude, we’re not.”
“Come on. It took us three hours to get out of the parking deck.” Drew eased back in the passenger seat, wincing as he bumped his wounded shoulder.
Walter grunted. “You try moving a burned-out car all by yourself. It’s not as easy as it looks.”
From the attitude Drew was giving him, Walter half-wished he’d just let the man die. So far he had been zero help. He knew the man had a bullet wound and he had just lost his soon-to-be wife, but still. He could have put in a bit more effort.
Thanks to his complete lack of preparedness at his condo, they weren’t even able to scrounge up any food. His fiancée had been right—they had nothing. The extra clothes, lighters, and liquor would come in handy, but what Walter could really use was a Gatorade and a Power Bar.
He exhaled and eased the car down another alley. The little side streets proved to be less congested than the main streets: fewer rioters out looking to wreak havoc or cars stuck in the middle of the road.
So far the alley ahead appeared clear. If they could only make it to the highway, they had a chance to get out of downtown. As Walter eased the little Volkswagen between the buildings, he flicked his eyes up to the rear view.
A small light wavered behind him, roving over the alley and lingering on the back of their car. Shit. He pushed the accelerator down, increasing the speed from a slow crawl of fifteen to forty.
Drew shifted in his seat. “What are you doing?”
“Someone’s behind us.” Walter kept glancing at the rear view while navigating around the trash cans and dumpsters and intermittent debris in the alley as best he could. One fender hit a trash can and sent it flying into the air.
It slammed to the ground with a bang and a clatter.
“Hey! Watch it! My car’s only a year old.”
Walter snorted. “I don’t think you need to worry about resale value.”
“You have a point.” Drew turned to stare out the window. After a moment, he eased closer to the window. “Hey… Walter?”
“Yeah?”
“I think we’ve got another problem.”
“What?”
Drew leaned closer to the glass, glancing behind him and then out to the side again. “There’s a motorcycle on our tail. No lights.”
Walter squinted into the just-before-dawn light. “I don’t see anything.”
“It’s keeping to the shadows. I saw it in a reflection in a window.”
“Can you tell what it’s doing?”
Drew struggled to turn in the seat and keep his shoulder immobilized. “No. I only caught a glimpse once or twice. Single driver. Helmet covering the entire face. I can’t tell if he’s armed.”
Walter frowned. The light in the rear view still tracked them, bouncing up and down as if it were traveling on the same road. “I think they’re together. The light behind us must be a motorcycle as well.” He checked his watch. “It’ll be light enough to see in a few minutes. Hopefully they hold back until then.”
“If they don’t?”
“Ever been in a high-speed chase?”
“No. Have you?”
“Only in the air.” Walter glanced at Drew’s torso. “Buckle up. This could get dangerous.”
Drew laughed. “Like it isn’t already.” He reached for the seatbelt and pulled it over his chest, ea
sing it under his arm and wounded shoulder before buckling. “Okay. I’m ready.”
Walter hit the gas. “Good. Because we’re going to lose these two right now.”
The car lurched as it picked up speed and Walter gripped the steering wheel with both hands, holding it steady at ten and two. Driving wasn’t that different than flying, if he thought about it. He couldn’t do the same evasive maneuvers since the car couldn’t exactly leave the horizontal plane, but he wasn’t scared to push the car to its limits.
Multi-ton machines were built to handle a lot more than most people put them through. He glanced at Drew. Some people, in particular.
Walter punched the gas as the car came to a main road, flying over the curb and bottoming out in the middle of the street. Drew grunted next to him and reached for the handle above the window.
“You all right?”
“Fine.”
“Are they still coming?”
Drew turned around. “Yes, and you’re right. There’s two of them. One looks like a Harley or something similar, lots of chrome and pipes. The other is a crotch rocket, built for speed.”
Walter cursed. “We could outmaneuver and outrun the Harley, but we’ll never escape the racer.” He glanced at the time: 6:40. “It’s sunrise. They won’t be able to hide in the shadows anymore.”
He barreled down the next alley, swerving around a dumpster tipped on its side before hitting another street. They bounced over the curb, the tail pipes scraping as he turned the wheel. “Let’s see how they do out in the open.”
The car fishtailed as he whipped it onto the road and he hit some burned-out hunk of metal before he got it under control. The riot had died out some time in the morning hours, at least in this part of downtown. Not a soul was on the road except them and the two motorcycles.
The Harley behind them growled as it sped up. Walter glanced in the rear view. “I don’t see any weapons.”
“Then what’s the point?”
“I’m guessing they hope we crash.”
The street racer screeched and bucked before accelerating toward them. Walter slowed.
