by Harley Tate
Chris still stood in front of the door. “This isn’t a good idea. She’s putting our safety at risk by leaving.”
“It’ll be okay.” Dawn nodded at her husband. “Let her go.”
He frowned at Leah. “Don’t come back.”
She barely kept the scorn out of her voice. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”
Chris opened the front door and Leah stepped out into the dark.
Chapter Twenty-Five
LEAH
83 Iris Lane
Hampton, Georgia
Saturday, 10:00 p.m.
Crouched at the edge of her sister’s house, Leah waited for her eyes to adjust to the dark and her mind to stop spinning. Never in a million years did she expect things to devolve the way they did inside. How could her sister and brother-in-law be so short sighted? How could they kick Grant out instead of taking him at his word?
She frowned at the cloudless sky. If Hampton closed itself off from the rest of the country, would she ever see Dawn again? The thought of losing her sister gnawed at her insides, but Leah had no choice. Her husband mattered more.
Leaving Grant alone out there to face the future without her wasn’t an option. Wherever he was, she would find him. Leah sucked in a breath. Hiking to Smyrna would be difficult at best. She would need to conserve her strength.
Adrenaline carried her through the argument with Chris and her sister, but as it faded, her whole body trembled. Leah reached up and prodded the wound on her scalp. Less swollen than before, but the lack of draining fluid concerned her.
Was a latent infection building back up inside the wound? Would she succumb to its effects before she made it home?
Leah glanced back at her sister’s dark house. I should have asked about pain meds or antibiotics. The shock of it all clouded her judgment and turned Leah reckless. She said things she didn’t mean and hurt her sister out of anger.
Could she go back? She shook her head. Chris would never let her leave a second time without a massive fight. She couldn’t do that to Dawn.
With a deep breath, Leah stood up. Thanks to a three-quarter moon, she could make out enough to see. It was time to leave Hampton behind.
As she walked down the driveway, the door to the house opened. Leah didn’t look back.
“Leah! Wait!” Her sister hissed into the dark.
Leah stopped, but didn’t turn around. “I’m not changing my mind.”
“I don’t want you to. I know you need to find Grant.” Dawn hurried up to her side. “But you’ll never get out without my help.”
“What about Chris?”
Dawn glanced at the house. “He doesn’t know I’m out here. He fell asleep on the couch.”
“Already?”
“It’s been a long day.”
Leah took her sister by the arms. “I’m sorry, Dawn. I shouldn’t have yelled at you and said all those things.”
“It’s okay. You’re right, we never should have kicked Grant out. I knew it was wrong, but I was scared and… I let Chris take charge. I’m sorry.”
Leah hugged Dawn again. “It’s okay. I understand.”
“Do you have a plan?”
“Not yet. I was hoping I could find a way to sneak through a fence or a backyard.”
“It’ll take you forever to get home without a car.”
Leah glanced at her sister’s vehicle. “Yours can’t possibly work.”
Dawn held up a key. “No, but my father-in-law’s pickup still runs.”
“What are you saying?”
“Take it.”
“Doesn’t he need it?”
“With the town on lockdown and nowhere to go? Not hardly. The only reason it still runs is because Chris drives it around the block a few times a month. Dale hasn’t driven in years.”
“I don’t know. Won’t Chris be mad?”
“Madder than a box of frogs, but I can handle him.”
Leah hesitated. “How am I going to get out with a pickup truck? It’s not like the cop will just wave me on through.”
“There’s a farm on the north edge of town. It’s got a fence, but that’s all. If you get going fast enough, you can bust right through it and onto the road out.”
“All the way across town? There’s no way. Someone will spot me.”
“I’ll help.”
“How?”
Dawn smiled. “You leave that to me.” She shoved the key in Leah’s palm. “Just drive.”
Thirty minutes later, the sisters sat side-by-side in a beat up old truck with a frayed and stained bench seat and a window stuck a quarter of the way down. “You really think this’ll work?”
“Yep.” Dawn seemed almost giddy with excitement. “Just let me out south of the farm. Once you see a bunch of lights, gun it for the fence line.”
Leah exhaled. “What happens if you get caught?”
“You’ll have to drive faster, I guess.”
Gripping the steering wheel with both hands, Leah bounced and bobbled through the side streets of town, navigating without headlights under her sister’s directions. With the speedometer hovering around five miles an hour, she hoped the near-idle of the engine didn’t penetrate through eighty-year-old siding and single-pane windows.
“Will they chase me once I’m outside city limits?”
Dawn scrunched up her face in thought. “Doubt it. If this works, they’ll be too busy.”
Leah nodded and focused on the road. In a matter of minutes, her sister pointed out the farm.
“It starts here. Let me out on the side and ease down the gravel until you see the first fence. Wait for the lights.”
Dawn reached for the door handle, but Leah grabbed her arm. “I love you.”
Her sister smiled. “I love you, too.” Without another word, she hopped out of the truck and disappeared from sight.
Leah turned the truck off the asphalt and onto the rutted gravel drive. Slowing to almost walking speed, she hoped the dark hid the trail of dust kicked up in her wake. After an agonizing few minutes, a white post and rail fence came into view. She rumbled to a stop.
All she could do now was wait.
Leah turned around in the driver’s seat and stared out at the little town of Hampton. Idyllic setting. Quiet nights. Crazy rules.
She didn’t want any part of it. Too bad her sister didn’t agree. Maybe after things calmed down and the country began to rebuild…
But Leah didn’t know how long that would take. Was the president still alive? What about the rest of the government? How could anyone govern without electricity today?
She thought about the news report from Los Angeles. If parts of the West Coast still had power, would the government relocate there? Would the country end up with a version of the White House in Colorado or Wyoming?
What if there was no one left to lead? What if the perpetrators of the attack intended to invade? Would everyone become slaves to some foreign power?
Leah pressed her fingers to her temples to slow her runaway thoughts. She couldn’t go down this road, not when she hadn’t even escaped Hampton.
As she stared out into the dark, the first inkling of her sister’s plan filtered through the open window. Is that…? Leah leaned over and cranked the passenger side window down. She leaned back with a laugh. Pigs. Her sister had let loose the farm’s pigs.
Oinks and grunts sounded from the front pasture, followed by neighs and moos and a million other barnyard noises. Is that a duck?
Leah couldn’t tell the animals apart once they all got in on the action, braying and hollering and causing a ruckus. Orbs of light followed, bouncing around the front of the property while more came from the road. That was her cue.
Leah put the truck in drive and punched the gas. The fence rose up fast in the windshield, but Leah braced herself. The wood splintered like a shot and Leah kept going, pushing the accelerator down as hard as she could while still keeping a grip on the wheel.
Rows of crops slowed her down and the truck slipped sid
eways on a patch of mud. Come on. She squeezed the steering wheel tight and sat tall on the seat, angling for the second fence line a hundred yards on.
Noises increased behind her, but Leah didn’t dare turn around. If they were following her, she’d just have to outrun them. With a final punch of the accelerator, she broke through the second fence and bounced onto the road. The front fender of the truck scraped the asphalt and Leah rose off the seat.
As the truck bottomed out, she landed hard and bounced, hitting her knee on the steering column. But she made it. The little state road opened up in front of her and in half a mile, Leah turned west toward home. Daring the truck up to highway speeds, she didn’t slow down until the town of Hampton was no more than a bad memory.
She hoped her sister escaped the wrath of anyone in charge. In time, Leah would return and try to set things right. But right now, she needed to find her husband. She turned the headlights on, leaned back in the seat, and drove.
Chapter Twenty-Six
LEAH
Rose Valley Lane
Smyrna, Georgia
Sunday, 1:00 a.m.
The familiar sight of Leah’s neighborhood unleashed a torrent of butterflies against her ribs. Thanks to Grant’s trip to Charlotte and the terrible events of the weekend before, it had been ten days since she’d last set eyes on her husband.
Ten horrifying days.
She’d been through so much on her own, but it was all nearing an end. Leah eased the truck down the street and turned into her driveway. A pang of disappointment hit her when she didn’t see Grant’s car, but intellectually she knew better. Just like a million other cars all over the city, Grant’s late model Toyota didn’t run.
It would probably sit at the Atlanta airport forever, eventually succumbing to rain and rust and exposure. Leah put the truck in park and turned off the engine before bounding up the driveway and the two steps to her front door. She put her face up to the glass, but pulled back in shock.
Are those my new sheets?
She shook her head, squinting into the glass. Why had he used her sheets as window coverings? It didn’t make sense. Leah tried the door handle. Locked. She knocked.
The noise echoed through the silent house.
She bounced on the balls of her feet, up and down, side to side, waiting.
Nothing. She frowned and pulled her backpack off before rummaging through it for her keys. At least she’d remembered to take them. The key fit into the lock and Leah opened the door.
Stale air greeted her. “Grant? Are you home?”
Leah eased inside and shut the door behind her. Complete darkness enveloped her. Her breath caught in her lungs. Even when the power failed, their first floor wasn’t dark. The ambient light from the night always shined through the wall of windows in the back of the house.
Not tonight.
She called out again. “Grant? Honey, are you here?”
Leah fished in her bag for the hospital flashlight she’d managed to keep during the escape. She clicked it on. Plywood covered every window.
Leah spun around, panic rising in her throat. What’s going on? Every single window on the first floor had been barricaded. Leah didn’t know what to think.
Had Grant done all this after the blast?
Leah walked into the kitchen in a trance. No sign of her husband. She searched the rest of the first floor, ducking into the bathroom and the office. Not there.
She took the stairs two at a time, racing against her own pounding heart. Their bed sat empty and cold. Her husband wasn’t home.
Leah sagged onto the corner of the mattress, fighting back a wave of tears and despair. If he wasn’t there, and he wasn’t in Hampton, where the hell was he?
It was the middle of the night.
Exhaustion needled her, sparking a throb in the wound on her scalp. She needed to sleep, but she’d built up this moment so much in her mind: finally finding Grant, wrapping her arms around his strong middle, sinking into his chest.
Leah forced herself to stand and trudged back down the stairs. She tugged open the fridge and stared at the clean, bare shelves. She turned around and opened the cabinets.
Everything had been cleaned. No food sat rotting on the shelves. She opened the trash. A new bag.
A pair of dishes sat on the floor. Leah squatted down and squinted at the bowl half full of water. They didn’t own a dog.
Leah shook her head. Nothing made sense. Where could he be?
The garage was the only place left. Leah walked to it, prepared to find it empty. Instead, an old sedan sat on sagging tires in the middle of the space. She approached with caution and peered inside, but the car was empty.
If her husband had a working car, why wasn’t he using it? She leaned over and shone a light on the front tire. A gash marred the side. Leah walked around the vehicle, inspecting each wheel.
The tires had been slashed. She stood up with a start. Who would do such a thing? A neighbor?
Leah didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t think. She walked back into the house and picked up the air rifle. If someone would slash her husband’s tires, what would they do when they found out he wasn’t home?
She walked back out the front door and closed it softly behind her. A pair of rocking chairs nestled on Leah’s front porch right where she left them and she sat in the one closest to the wall. From her vantage point, she could make out most of the street.
If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well stand guard. It didn’t take long for exhaustion to overtake her nerves.
A metal clang roused Leah from quasi-unconsciousness. She blinked at the dark. Where am I? The air rifle slipped and banged against her shin and she jolted fully awake.
Her neighborhood. Her empty house. Her missing husband.
She heard the noise again, a metal-on-metal screech coming from her driveway and the truck. Was someone trying to steal it? What if someone hot-wired it and drove off? She needed that truck to search for Grant. No one could take it from her.
Leah lifted the gun back up into her hands, all of a sudden alert and ready. “Is someone there?”
The noise cut off.
Leah squinted into the darkness, but even with the moon and stars, she couldn’t make out any movement. Blood whooshed in her veins and her heart picked up speed. Leah didn’t know if she could handle another altercation.
First Howie and then the men in the hospital. What would the next assailant do?
She eased off the rocking chair. “Hello? Are you out there?” With both hands firmly on the gun, she brought it up to her shoulder. If someone appeared, she wanted to be ready.
With quiet feet, she crept toward the edge of the porch and the driveway beyond. Thanks to the recessed front of the house and the looming hulk of the truck, Leah couldn’t see the other side of the drive. Ten guys could be crouched over there and she’d have no idea.
Leah nosed around the engine. From her vantage point, she couldn’t see anyone inside the cab. The doors were shut. She braced herself and swung into the open drive.
A shape hunched toward the back of the truck, bent over the wheel well.
Leah took aim. “Step away from the truck.”
The shape jerked away. From the height and the bulk in his shoulders, Leah guessed it had to be a man, and a sizable one at that. She kept her voice firm and even. “Who are you?”
He didn’t say anything.
“What are you doing?”
No response.
She bent her head toward the sights. “Talk or I fill your shoulder full of lead.”
“I don’t think there’s any need for violence.”
Leah couldn’t place his voice and without more light, he was too far away to see. “Identify yourself.”
“What if I refuse?”
She took a step forward. “You need to leave.”
He took a step back. “I’m just having a look at the truck, that’s all. Real classic.”
“I wouldn’t
know.”
“Does it run?”
“What do you think?”
He didn’t respond.
Leah advanced another step. “If you don’t leave, I’ll shoot.”
“Do you really know how to use that thing?”
She almost laughed. “You’re not the first man I’ve had to shoot this week, so, yeah. I know how to use it.”
The man’s form shifted as he turned toward the truck.
“Stop moving.”
He eased back upright. “I won’t be much longer.”
“That’s right. Because you’re leaving now.”
“Not quite.”
Leah couldn’t figure him out. What was he doing standing beside the truck like that? She advanced another step. Another shape materialized out of the dark and Leah gasped. “You’re stealing my gas!”
“I’d like to think I’m borrowing it.”
“Get away.”
The man picked up the plastic gas can from the ground and held it in front of his chest. “I need it.”
“So do I.”
“If you shoot me, we’re both liable to explode.” He yanked the tube from the gas tank out of the truck and wrapped both arms around the gas can, using it like a shield.
Leah didn’t know what to do. She remembered all the signs at every gas station warning about the risk of explosions. She’d heard about gas cans spontaneously catching fire in weird places like hot garages and the trunks of cars in places like Phoenix or Las Vegas.
But outside Atlanta in the dark? It couldn’t have been over sixty degrees. From the cold across her skin, Leah guessed more like fifty. Would the gas explode? If she aimed for his face, would she hit the tank on accident?
“Let me go and neither one of us gets hurt.”
“No. Put down the can.”
“I can’t.” The man took a step backward.
Leah took aim. With a good shot, she might incapacitate him enough to steal the can back. It was the best option. If he attacked her, she’d have to fight it out.
He wasn’t stealing her gas.
