by Harley Tate
She motioned toward the farm. “Are we ready?”
Her dad nodded. “Let’s do this.”
Brianna eased out of the truck from one door while Madison’s father climbed out the other. The rest of them followed, being careful to make as little noise as possible.
“The bushes along the rear fence line give decent cover. We can get in on the west side where the fence is partially broken. From there, we’ll split up and take one building each. Who wants to keep watch outside?”
Tucker volunteered. “I’ll do it. I’ve got good peripheral vision.”
“Are you sure?”
He smiled at his girlfriend. “Don’t worry about me, Brianna. I can handle it.”
She frowned as she looked him over. “All right. If you’re sure.” As Brianna leaned in to give him a hug, Madison couldn’t help but hear her whispered words. “Just don’t get shot, okay? I kind of want you to stick around.”
Tucker kissed her on the cheek. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
Madison’s father cleared her throat and Peyton stifled a laugh.
“If everyone’s done making me uncomfortable, it’s time to go.”
“Sorry, Mr. Sloane.”
Her father nodded at Tucker and turned toward the farm, making his way through the trees along the edge of the road and into the scrub brush along the side of the fallow field. Madison followed second, with Peyton and Brianna next and Tucker pulling up the rear.
Every ten yards or so, they would stop, survey the farm, and keep going. Her dad was right; most of the animals must have escaped. Madison didn’t hear a single bleating cry or see a single tail swish away the flies.
As they eased under the stretched wire fence one by one, Madison hesitated. “Maybe we should go back.”
“It’s too late. We’re already here.”
She shook her head at Brianna. “Something’s not right.”
“It’s just nerves.” Peyton put his hand on the small of her back to guide her through the wires.
“Let’s just get inside and we can regroup.” Tucker slipped under the fence and her father followed. He was the only one not offering an opinion.
“You feel it too, don’t you?”
He brought his finger to his lips as he stood up. “Head to the nearest building. We’ll regroup behind the wall closest to the fence line. I’ll take up the rear.”
Madison watched Peyton, Brianna, and Tucker each set off for the building while her father stayed back, rifle drawn and eye on the sight. With her friends halfway across the open space, Madison took off, hustling to catch up.
Her father joined them a moment later. “I don’t see anyone. It could be that we’re spooked over nothing.”
“Or a bunch of bad guys could be hiding just on the other side of this barn.”
Her father nodded. “That is a possibility.”
“Who would ambush us here? It makes no sense. Why wait until we’re all the way inside?”
Madison checked to ensure the handgun she carried was loaded and ready to fire. For a moment she pined for the shotgun she’d used in the communications building, but her shoulder still hurt from the force of the discharge. The 9mm would have to do.
Her heart thudded too fast and Madison forced air into her lungs, holding it there until her pulse slowed. “Are we still splitting up?”
“Yes. If there are hostiles in the area, we’ll be harder to hit if we’re in different places.”
Somehow the thought didn’t give Madison any comfort. “All right. I’ll take the open pole barn.”
“I’ll take the chicken house.” Brianna brought her left hand down to wrap around her right as she held her pistol straight out in front of her.
“I guess that leaves the shed over there for me.” Peyton looked uncomfortable as he held the shotgun in his hands, but at least the effects of the concussion seemed to be gone.
Madison’s dad followed. “I’ll search the large barn here. Tucker, can you sneak around front and keep an eye on all the main points of entry?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Holler if you get into trouble.”
“Will do.”
Madison’s father glanced at each of them in turn. “Good luck. Meet back here in ten minutes.”
Without another word, Brianna and Peyton headed off to their respective assignments. Madison didn’t make it a handful of steps before stopping to dry her palms on her jeans. Fear made her sweat like a linebacker in a bowl game.
Chickens. Goats. A trailer.
She tried to keep all the goals in mind as she walked, head on a perpetual swivel as she scanned the area in front and behind her. She approached the pole barn and squinted to see into the shadows.
A tractor with conditioning equipment sat in the middle, and beyond a hay baler and a smaller ride-on mower took up the bulk of the space. With growing season barely underway, Madison couldn’t believe any of them saw much use the last few months. She ducked behind the largest machine as she entered the barn, gaining a bit of protection from the metal body.
So far, so good.
As Madison eased closer to the far edge, she froze.
“I’m telling you, there’s five of them spread out like damn spiders in a jungle.”
The muffled voice didn’t come from one of her friends. Madison’s heart kicked into overdrive, her blood whooshing through her veins so fast, the strangers must have heard the pounding.
“But they’re kids. We handled a bunch of kids before and we can do it again.”
“Damn college brats.”
Madison could only distinguish two voices. She didn’t know if they were outside the barn, on the other side of the equipment, or even closer. Part of her wanted to rush them both. Shoot first and ask questions later. But for all she knew, there could be ten men right around the corner just waiting for an excuse to fire.
She couldn’t stay still and not warn her father and friends. Even if it meant exposing her location, she would have to try.
Madison swallowed down the spit clinging to the back of her tongue and took a step forward.
CHAPTER TWENTY
TRACY
863 Dewberry Lane, Chico, CA
12:00 p.m.
Fear grabbed ahold of Tracy’s spine, its icy fingers slipping into space between her vertebrae. She shivered in the warm kitchen. “Something’s wrong.”
Drew chomped on a leftover muffin. “What are you talking about? These are perfect. Soft, but not squishy, moist but not wet.”
“The farm. Something’s gone wrong. I just know it.” She gripped the edge of the sink and stared out at the Jetta in the driveway. The feeling wouldn’t go away.
It was the same dread that shocked her into action when those two men showed up in George’s apartment. On some level, she had known if she didn’t act, if she didn’t take charge and eliminate the threat right then, it would be over.
Her whole body trembled. Her family was in trouble. She could feel it.
Tracy spun around at the sound of a slide racking. Drew stood at the dining room table, handgun in his hand. He held it out to her with the barrel pointed toward the floor. “What are we waiting for? If you think something’s wrong, we need to be there.”
“You’re too sick. You can’t fight.”
“Yes, I can. You all have been babying me for days. The antibiotic worked. The fever is gone, the wound is healing, and I’m up on my feet.”
Tracy shook her head. “I can’t ask you to come.”
“You don’t have a choice. I’m not going to sit here while you go off on your own. If they’re in trouble, the more backup, the better.”
The last thing Tracy wanted to do was put Drew in danger. The man almost died. He should be resting until the wound in his shoulder healed completely, not rushing off to fight a battle that might be all in her head.
He cracked a smile. “You can stare at me all you want and try to come up with a way to keep me here, or we can get in the car and
help.”
Tracy exhaled and let her head sag. Her husband went through hell to keep Drew alive. If she dragged him out into danger before he was ready…
But if Walter got hurt or one of the kids…
At last, Tracy took the gun with a nod. “Okay. Just don’t do anything stupid.”
Drew held up his hands. “Believe me, getting shot once is enough for me. I’m not looking for an encore.”
“All right. Then let’s go.”
She grabbed the keys to the car, slipped the handgun into her waistband, and followed Drew out into the backyard. The bright midday sun hit her face, but still Tracy couldn’t shake the cold that crept into her middle the second her husband and daughter left for the farm.
If anything, it grew stronger, fighting against the warmth of the sun to remind her of everything at stake. They shouldn’t have gone. A farm was such an easy target.
Tracy’s fingers shook as she tried to put the key in the ignition.
Drew reached out from the passenger seat and steadied her hand. “We’ll get there in time.”
“I hope you’re right.” Tracy revved the engine and eased down the driveway and onto the quiet road. They had been lucky in Chico. After the communications building, no one had bothered them. It had been too easy.
Too many hours had gone by where no one was trying to take what they had. Silence bred complacency and confidence. Tracy held onto the steering wheel so tight, her knuckles turned white.
They’ll be all right.
The drive to the university farm only took minutes, but every one stretched for an hour in Tracy’s mind. Visions of finding everyone dead consumed her. Would they be too late? Would they make it in time?
The curve in the road Walter described that morning came into view and Tracy looked for the truck. It wasn’t there.
Oh, no.
Her tongue turned to brick and her throat to mortar. The words came out slow and thick. “The truck isn’t there.”
Drew leaned down to peer out the driver’s side window. “Maybe they moved it.” Drew twisted in the front seat, grunting as his shoulder pulled. “I don’t see any sign of a struggle. There’s no tire tracks or run-over bushes. It’s been a few hours; they could have cleared the farm already and are hitching up a tractor.”
“I don’t think so.”
Drew turned back around to face front. “So what’s the plan?”
“I’m going to drive in there and get my family.”
“Whoa. Don’t you want to circle around and check it out before we just pull up in there?”
“Nope.”
He fell back on the seat and closed his eyes. “You and Walter have got to be the craziest people I’ve ever met.”
Tracy let out a snort. “We’re not crazy, Drew. We just make the hard choices.” She eased the car to the side of the road about twenty feet from the entrance to the farm. As she turned off the engine, she smiled at Drew. “Whatever happens, follow my lead.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
WALTER
University Farm, CSU Chico
12:00 p.m.
“I never got a visual, but I only heard two voices.”
“And you’re sure they haven’t seen me?”
“They think you’re a college kid.” Madison pointed at his ball cap. “The Chico State hat was a good call.”
Walter nodded. As soon as they arrived, the artificial quiet pricked Walter’s ears. No birds. No squirrels chittering on the roof. If the farm was abandoned, there would be something.
Instead, in every barn, down every path, quiet.
He checked his rifle and exhaled. He would need to confront whoever was there and deal with the situation, hopefully without bloodshed. “You find the others and regroup. I want you safe and well-hidden.”
Madison’s eyes went wide. “Dad! No! You can’t go out there all by yourself.”
“I won’t. You’ll be my cover. But we need to assess the threat. I’ll make myself known and get a read on them. Maybe they’re scared and trying to protect what they have.”
His daughter shook her head. “No. I’m not agreeing to that. You could be walking into an ambush.”
They had been so lucky at the greenhouse. Would it hold or would this be a repeat of the communications building? Walter handed the rifle over to his daughter. “Take this and go. I’ll give you ten minutes. After that, I’m walking out.”
Madison handed over her handgun and gripped the rifle with two hands. He could tell by the way her jaw set and her shoulders tensed that Madison hated his idea. But he couldn’t risk her again. He might need her and the others to end this, but he would protect them as much as he could.
This wasn’t about him being the hero or sheltering her as much as it was base instinct. He couldn’t put his daughter in harm’s way on purpose. He had to keep her alive. Madison stood in front of him a moment longer, frowning at the rifle before taking off for the nearest building.
So far, whomever she heard hadn’t made it to this portion of the farm. Walter eased down to the opposite end of the building and glanced around the corner. Clear. He felt like a dog ready to flush out a flock of birds so the hunters on their horses could shoot.
Only he didn’t know which hunters would do the shooting.
As Walter braced himself on the wall of the barn, his fingers rubbing against the faded red paint, a familiar voice pierced the silence.
“Hello? Is anyone here?”
No. Nononono. It can’t be. Walter swallowed down a wave of panic.
“Our car just ran out of gas and we’re hoping someone can help. Hello?”
Walter eased back toward the edge of the barn and stuck his head around the corner. His wife stood in between two buildings, hands cupped around her mouth as she shouted.
From his distance, he couldn’t see a weapon anywhere on her body. Damn it.
Whatever Tracy thought she was doing, it wouldn’t work. She was going to get herself killed.
“Hey there, pretty lady, how can I help you?”
A man appeared out of nowhere, hunting rifle hanging from a strap on his shoulder. His beard and scraggly hair obscured most of his face, but the tanned skin of his hands and forearms said farmer. The grease stains on his denim shirt were either from the farm equipment or a car that wouldn’t start. Either way, he was used to hard, dirty work.
Not the type of person Walter wanted to confront. He’d take a greenhouse graduate student any day of the week over a man used to physical labor and difficult choices.
Walter wished he hadn’t given Madison the rifle. If he still had it, he could have taken the man out where he stood. With a 9mm in his palm, he couldn’t do anything but wait.
His wife smiled at the man and Walter’s insides twisted.
“Oh, thank you so much. My husband and I are trying to make it to Redding and our car just sputtered to a stop right at the fence out there.” She turned and pointed, the motion accentuating the curve of her hips in her form-fitting jeans.
Walter didn’t miss the man’s gaze as it checked out his wife’s figure. He ground his teeth together.
“Where’s your husband now?”
Tracy turned back around with a smile. “At the car.” She leaned in and her smile deepened. “He’s not one for getting his shoes dirty.”
The farmer chuckled. “City type?”
Tracy nodded. “I keep trying to tell him he needs to get out and get into nature, but his idea of roughing it is a hotel room with only a queen bed.”
The man stepped closer to Tracy. “We have plenty of fuel, but it doesn’t come cheap.”
“I’ve got cash back at the car. I’m sure we could settle on a fair price.”
The man’s eyes roved up and down Tracy’s body and Walter gripped his gun tighter. “Money’s no good any more. But there’s something else you could use as payment.”
Something inside Walter snapped. He couldn’t stand there a second longer and let his wife take this man’s bait. A
s soon as she left his sight, who knows what would happen to her. A parade of horribles flashed across his mind’s eye and Walter stepped into the clearing, gun drawn.
“Step away from her.”
Tracy spun around, her eyes wide. She shook her head a fraction, trying to tell him to back off, but Walter ignored the gesture. He would take care of this problem.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Her husband.”
The farmer looked up and down. “You don’t strike me as the city type.”
“I’m not. Now hand her the rifle or I’ll put a bullet between your eyes.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
Walter aimed. He couldn’t waste anymore time. As he pulled the trigger, a shot rang out. The bullet pierced his dominant leg, midway between the hip joint and his knee. Walter jerked and his shot went wide as the lead tore through his quad and out through his hamstring.
Everything happened in slow motion after that. His wife ripped a small handgun from out of her bra and twisted toward the farmer. She fired without hesitation, one, two, three times. He clutched his heart as more gunfire rang out.
Walter staggered toward her, gun raised as the blood pumped from his leg wound to coat his pants. Tracy dove for the rifle, scrabbling on the ground for the strap. She tugged at it, unable to wrest the weapon out from under the weight of the dead man.
Another shot rang out and Walter turned to see Brianna with a shotgun in her hands.
No! It was all going so wrong. They were supposed to stay hidden and safe. Protected. Walter fell to one knee as he tried to find a target. Where were they? Where were the shots coming from?
His breathing slowed and his vision dimmed, but Walter sucked in a lungful of air and concentrated.
God, give me the strength to get through this.
He’d prayed more in the last two weeks than he’d prayed his entire adult life, but Walter wasn’t going to stop now. Just give me the strength. Please.
