“All fathers are protective of their daughters.”
“No, Lauren—I mean he’s really protective.” Megan snickered. “I mean—when he asked me to teach Brooke and Brandon how to shoot, I was stunned. It was the most freedom I’ve had in months.”
Lauren ran her fingers through her hair. There was more to the story and she couldn’t put her finger on it.
Megan blew upward into her bangs, casting the hair out of her eyes. She slid off the bed onto the floor and sat with her legs crossed just in front of Lauren. In doing so, the holster that carried her Sig Sauer P226 pushed into her side when it met with the floor. Megan leaned over and pulled the holster from her belt and set it just beside her. Until that point, Lauren hadn’t even noticed that Megan was carrying a weapon. Having a handgun on your side had now become as common as carrying a cell phone had been before the collapse.
“Okay, I’m going to level with you,” Megan said quietly, almost in a whisper. “There is a reason. But it’s a big secret…and my dad would prefer it to stay that way.” She paused and looked away as if to second-guess herself on the decision to divulge what she wanted to say.
Lauren’s interest had been piqued. She looked back toward the door, and although she could hear the adults downstairs still chatting away, she assumed that no one was within earshot. “I’m listening,” she said softly.
Megan frowned. Her usual glow had become downcast. She took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. “Last summer, during the attacks, three men assaulted me.” She hesitated. “They almost…well, you can guess the rest.”
Lauren sat back in her seat, her eyes wide open, her expression aghast. Megan didn’t have to say the word for her to understand. “What?” she asked, not knowing what else to say. “Are you serious?”
“I’m dead serious,” Megan said, her face showing the enormity of her thoughts. “They were seconds away from it, Lauren—seconds.” She paused and took a breath. “It was the scariest thing that’s ever happened to me in my entire life.”
“Oh my God,” Lauren said, not wanting to believe her ears. “Did you try to fight them? Where was everyone else? Where was your dad?”
“Actually, Dad was the one who found me,” Megan said. “They had pulled me deep into the woods and one of them had a knife to my neck. They told me that if I made any noise, they’d kill me.” Megan paused. “I didn’t believe them at first, and when I started to fight them, one of them grabbed me by my neck and choked me. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes—they were black and empty. His hand was as cold as ice. He told me…he said that no matter what, it was going to happen. And that, if it came down to it, he had no problem…well…doing it to a dead body.”
“Jesus,” Lauren burst out, thoroughly taken aback. She covered her mouth with her hand as a sensation of disgust overtook her.
“Yeah,” Megan said, her own words weighing heavily on her. “He was literally salivating. When he said that, I knew at that point he meant exactly what he said, and I didn’t have a choice anymore. It was the most helpless I’ve ever felt in my life.”
Lauren remained silent. She didn’t know what to think, say, or do, except give her friend the time she needed to talk it out.
“When Dad got there, two of them took off like a shot and he killed the one with the knife,” Megan said. She shuddered and an uncomfortable, semi-contented smile spread across her face. “I still have no idea how he did it without the guy cutting me in the process, but he did. He saved me.”
“I’m sorry, Megan,” Lauren said. She quivered as she let it all sink in. “I know inhumane things like that happen all the time in this world—especially now. I’m so sorry it happened to you.”
Megan shook her head dismissively. “It’s okay—and I’m okay. It’s not easy to talk about, but I’m honestly over it now. What could’ve happened didn’t, and I thank God for that every day.” Megan put her hand on Lauren’s knee. “Things like that…they happen for a reason. I know for a fact now how truly evil people have become—it’s made me more aware and vigilant. I don’t go anywhere without always checking over my shoulder.”
“Undesirable events can have that effect,” Lauren said. She was reminded of the events of her family’s ill-fated trip to Shenandoah National Park when she was younger.
“I guarantee you this…I won’t let it happen again—ever again.” Megan patted her Sig Sauer. “Next time, I won’t be the helpless victim. If it comes down to me or them, I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure it’s them.”
Lauren nodded her agreement.
“I do have something else to tell you, though,” Megan said. “It’s something that, in light of things, you might like to know.”
Lauren adjusted herself in the chair. “What? Something bad?”
Megan gestured negatively. “Not at all. In fact, it might make things a little better for you.”
“Okay.”
Megan scooted closer. “The two guys…the two that got away that day…I’m pretty sure you killed them.”
Lauren’s eyebrows lifted. “What? How do you know that?”
“When Dad went to help clean up your property, he brought me along,” Megan said. “I wanted to see you, but he told me that you wanted to just be alone after what happened—can’t say as I blame you. Anyway, two of the guys lying dead near your family’s shed I recognized right off the bat. I didn’t say anything to Dad. That one guy…the one who said those words to me, I knew it was him. I’ll never forget his face.” Megan paused. “Lee told me that he was pretty sure he didn’t shoot them. He said that you had gotten most of them because he was freaking out and couldn’t get a shot off.”
Lauren giggled. “He told you that? I would’ve never guessed he’d be so humble.”
“Lee has had a thing for me since we first met. The one thing he won’t do is lie to me,” Megan said, a confident smile adorning her face.
“That is true,” Lauren confirmed. “But being honest, he more than likes you.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“And in his defense, he was freaking out because he was getting shot at. That’s enough to make anyone lose their shit,” Lauren said.
“But not you.”
Lauren nodded acceptingly, but didn’t respond.
“How did you manage to keep your head?” asked Megan.
“I wish I knew how to answer that.”
“No worries,” Megan said. “Look, I know you’ve been hard on yourself after what happened. I think any normal person would feel the same. You didn’t just kill random people the other day. You killed evil men—complete bastards who deserved to die. And now they can’t hurt me, you, or anyone else ever again. And it’s because of what you did. So I just wanted to say thank you.”
Lauren began to smile genuinely. Sitting outside in the rain earlier today had in some way helped to cleanse her of a surplus of negative emotions. Megan’s encouraging monologue was helping to put on the finishing touches. She could feel her confidence returning. Her actions were now fully justified and she knew now that she’d acted on the side of good. Those among the dead were wicked men with malevolent intentions, capable of doing something abominable to the friend that sat in the room with her. And for those sins, they deserved the deaths they were provided. The ends justified the means. And it just didn’t seem to hurt as much anymore.
When Lauren’s meditative thought process didn’t allow her to offer a timely response, Megan reached for her hands and pulled on them. Lauren snapped back to life and made eye contact with her friend.
“You know, my dad has always told me that some people in this world just don’t deserve to live—and that killing, even though it’s never easy to understand, is sometimes necessary. It fixes problems that nothing else can fix.” She paused. “I used to be a pacifist. I never liked the military, war, or anything involving violence. I used to question it all—until those guys tried to take something from me that I could never get back. I know for a fact now that some men
in this world…just plain deserve to die.”
Lauren nodded as her memory recalled the woman who had so diabolically murdered her own child several days before. “And some women, I suppose.”
“Yeah,” Megan said. “Evil exists everywhere—especially now. I just hope that when it shows its face again, I’ll have the same courage that you had.”
Both girls jumped when a sudden knock was heard on Megan’s bedroom door. Megan got up and opened the door wide to see John standing in the hall just outside.
“What’s up?” she asked.
John motioned his head into Megan’s bedroom to where Lauren was sitting. “Is she—all right?”
Megan turned to Lauren and then looked back at John. “You should probably ask her that yourself.”
John nodded. He looked at Lauren, who stared at the floor, refusing to look back. “I’m sorry, Lauren.”
“Sorry for what?” Lauren fired back, peering up at him, her eyes smoldering. “For making me question myself? Not trusting me? Or for just being an asshole?”
Megan straightened up and her eyes widened. “I’m going to leave you two alone to figure this out.” Reaching down, she picked up her holstered Sig Sauer, slid it back onto her belt, and then edged out the door.
Lauren got up and walked over to John, who stood motionless in the doorway, his head lowered. “Well?” she pressed.
“All of the above,” John said. “But I have to be honest. I’m not comfortable with you and him being so close.”
Lauren smiled. “John, you’ve always been protective. You’ve never been jealous. Why now? Why all of a sudden?”
John paused before responding. “I just don’t want to lose you,” he said softly.
“You are not going to lose me,” Lauren said, her eyes squinted.
“It feels like it sometimes,” John admitted. “We aren’t as close as we used to be—and don’t forget, you almost didn’t come home a few days ago.” John’s hands went into his pockets and he shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t help it. It’s been weighing on me. And now there’s this new guy here, and even though I actually like him and I believe he’s a huge asset to us, I can’t help but wonder sometimes what’s going on in his head—or yours.”
Lauren reached for John, and even though he pulled away at first, her second attempt was aggressive enough to succeed. John’s arms gently surrounded her in a familiar embrace. Lauren put her arms around him as well and rested her head on his chest. John sighed in surrender as she squeezed him.
“I love you, John,” she said slowly and concisely. “I furiously love you. I know I don’t say it enough, and I know I’m not an easy person to get sometimes. But I always have, and I always will.”
“I can’t tell you how good it is to hear you say that,” John said. “I love you back.”
The two stood silently for a minute. Everything around them drifted away and the only thing that mattered for those seconds was each other. It had always been like that for them, and that was why Lauren knew in her heart that John was made for her. She just knew it.
“I can’t believe you honestly think that I’m attracted to Christian,” Lauren said. “The beard alone is a deal-breaker.” She giggled. “The only person I’ve ever liked with a beard on his face was my dad.”
“I guess it sounds pretty stupid.”
“That’s an understatement. Have you been watching him and Grace lately? It’s disgusting.”
“I can tell they like each other,” John said as he ran his nose through Lauren’s hair.
“She’s smitten,” Lauren said. “As happy as I’ve ever seen her. Head over heels.”
“That’s crazy.”
“No,” Lauren said. “That’s Grace.”
Everyone in the Mason house had gathered in the foyer to say goodbyes as the guests were preparing to leave. Lauren stood directly beside John and held his hand tightly. Lee was chatting with Megan, and she was being receptive to his banter for a change. Fred opened the front door to allow folks to file out onto the porch, where the sound of the rain flooded the air.
A sudden gunshot was heard in the direction of the Russell cabin, and the once-talkative group silenced themselves. Lee moved away from Megan and shouldered his AK. John let go of Lauren’s hand and brought his shotgun up to a ready position and moved to the edge of the porch. Norman followed his sons, his eyes peering into the darkness beyond them.
Another shot rang out and, amazingly enough, a muzzle flash could be seen through the sheets of rain. Fred bolted inside as Norman, John, and Lee all maneuvered their ponchos over their heads and descended the porch stairs. Just as Norman’s and his sons’ feet hit the gravel, Fred emerged from the house with his M1A in one hand and a radio in the other. As he struggled to put on his own poncho, the radio’s speaker crackled to life.
“Um, hello? Guys? Everyone? It’s Grace,” her voice modulated over the radio.
The group froze in place.
“Grace, it’s Fred,” Fred said as he pushed the PTT and spoke into the microphone. “Go ahead.”
“Yeah—hi, Fred,” Grace said. “Christian wanted me to let everyone know that we’re okay. The shots were from us.”
Michelle let out a loud breath and put her hand over her heart. “That was good thinking.”
Kim and Whitney both let out sighs of relief almost simultaneously while Norman, John, and Lee began a slow trot back to the porch.
“Well, what in the hell were they shooting at?” begged Norman.
“What’s going on down there, Grace?” Fred asked, his own heart beating out of his chest.
The speaker came to life again and Grace could be heard talking to Christian in the background. “Is it dead?” she was heard asking. After a few seconds, her voice came back loud and clear. “Yeah—sorry. Christian shot a bear. It’s a big one, too. He says it’s probably three hundred pounds or so.”
Norman shook his head. “Well, Scott, Whitney—there’s some of that protein I was talking about. A bear should feed us all for a couple of weeks or so.”
“I’ve never eaten bear before,” said Whitney, with a worried look on her face.
“You’ll like it. It’s kinda like deer—but a bit more greasy,” Scott said, using his hands to get his point across.
“Greasy?” Whitney quizzed.
“Just a bit,” Scott said as he held his thumb and forefinger a short distance apart. “And gamey. It’s definitely gamey.”
Whitney’s face warped. “Gamey?”
Fred smiled and slung his rifle. “We’ll have to get to work on that thing tonight. That’s a lot of meat to process. After I drop some dinner off to the boys, I’ll be over to help.”
Kim shook her head and shivered as she headed toward the door and her calm began to return. “Never a dull moment.”
After the group got ready for the short walk home in the rain, they made their way onto the driveway and waved goodbye to the Masons and to the Schmidts. Fred Mason gave his wife and daughter a kiss and then trudged over to his Humvee, carrying a backpack full of food for his sons on one shoulder and his venerable Springfield M1A slung over the other.
Before the group got too far away, Megan called to Lauren, and before Lauren could turn around, Megan was already running over to her in the rain. By the time she’d gotten there, she was drenched from top to bottom.
“Did I forget something?” asked Lauren.
Megan approached her within inches and offered a broad smile. “No. Just wanted to say…I was serious about what I said earlier—about the road patrols. I think we should go for it.”
Lauren nodded her agreement, and Megan gave her a quick hug.
“Okay. See you tomorrow morning, then,” Megan said, and then turned and sprinted home.
Chapter 6
“Sometimes I wonder if love is worth fighting for, but then I remember your face, and I’m ready for war.”
—Unknown
Winchester, Virginia
Approximately four year
s earlier
Alan pulled his car slowly up to the curb in front of the mall entrance next to a newly built movie theatre. Outside, hordes of unsupervised teenagers were parading about—displaying the type of behavior he’d grown accustomed to seeing, but wasn’t particularly fond of. Young girls were wearing some of the most provocative clothing he’d seen and, at times, wondered how it was even legal. Young boys were being typical young boys. Alan knew full well what that meant, having himself been that age before. The clothes kids wore in his teenage years weren’t as much of a distraction as they were today. In fact, calling them a distraction had become quite an understatement.
Lauren sat anxiously beside her father in the passenger seat, her eyes fixated on the commotion occurring just outside the vehicle. Despite what most younger teens wore nowadays, Alan and his wife had always leaned on Lauren to adorn herself with more conservative attire, even though she didn’t always agree. The jeans she had on tonight weren’t full of rips, tears, and holes, and they weren’t overly skintight like the ones painted on the majority of girls’ lower bodies in Lauren’s age group. It was summertime, and even though Lauren wasn’t allowed out of the house in what were referred to as ‘booty shorts’, she’d been allowed to wear a tank top tonight that showed a little too much, in her father’s opinion. Nevertheless, a compromise had been made and Lauren wasn’t known to go around flaunting her body, and that was enough to give her a little leeway on occasion.
“Do you see him?” Alan asked.
“Yeah,” Lauren replied. “He’s over there—near the entrance.” She pointed to a somewhat tall, slender, young man in shorts and a white Tapout T-shirt. He had a large group of friends crowding him, all of whom were carelessly laughing and showing off, dressed in a similar fashion.
Alan stared at the boy. “That’s him? That’s this Hunter I’ve heard so much about?”
“Yep, that’s him,” Lauren said proudly. She turned hastily to her father and held out her hand. “Okay, Dad. I gotta go now—he’s waiting. Money, please.”
What's Left of My World (Book 2): This We Will Defend Page 9
