by Harley Tate
Madison nodded and pulled away.
“Are you two all right?” Her mom stepped into the room, a smear of blood on her cheek.
“Yes.” Peyton turned to face her. “Nice shooting in there, Mrs. Sloane.”
“Thanks. If you’re capable of helping, there’s two bedrooms still to clear.”
Peyton stepped away from Madison with a last squeeze of her arm.
As he left the room, her mother looked her over. “You sure you’re okay?”
Madison nodded. “I will be.”
“Good. Because I need you to help with Brianna.”
Madison’s eyes widened in alarm. “Is she?”
Her mom turned and motioned for her to follow. “Just come with me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
TRACY
316 Rosemont Avenue, Chico, CA
11:00 p.m.
Tracy hoisted the last dead man’s legs up in the air while Peyton carried him under the arms. They took the stairs one at a time with a pause on each one, until they reached the second floor. With one more push, they made it to the master bedroom.
His body landed in a heap on top of the others and Tracy gripped her thighs as she sucked in a lungful of air. “Remind me next time we go on a killing spree to pick some lightweights.”
“Not funny.”
She wheezed in and out. “I’m not kidding.”
Peyton walked past her and out to the second-floor landing. After a moment, Tracy joined him, shutting the doors to the bedroom on her way. The men they killed didn’t deserve a burial, but Tracy couldn’t leave them to rot all over the yard. It had been hard work hauling them up the stairs, but it was the right thing to do.
She glanced at Peyton. “You all right?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “To be honest, I don’t know. I’ve never… This is the first time I…”
Tracy nodded. “I understand.”
“Does it get any easier?” He looked down at her with wild, unfocused eyes. She wished they could rewind the last few days and make all of this a bad dream. But it wasn’t. They stood at the top of the stairs in a stranger’s house with six dead men locked in a room behind them. That was their new reality.
She wiped the sweat off her brow with the hem of her shirt. “Are you talking about killing a person? Does that get any easier?”
Peyton nodded.
“I hope not. If it does, then we’ve got bigger problems.” Tracy tried to smile, but it came out in more of a grimace. “We didn’t do this tonight because we enjoyed it, Peyton. We did it because we had to. They took our truck, our gas, some of our supplies. Without those things, we couldn’t bring any of the plants to Brianna’s cabin in Truckee.” She paused and took a deep breath. “The Jetta doesn’t have a windshield and it’s covered in Drew’s blood.”
“We could have found another car.”
“Even if we did, what’s to say these men wouldn’t come looking for us? They had to know they killed Tucker and Drew and they saw Walter get shot. They might have thought we were easy targets now.”
She ran a hand through her hair and pushed the sweaty strands off her face. “If they didn’t come after us, they could have hurt someone else. The next people who stopped at the farm might not escape at all.”
Peyton shook his head with a frown. “But who says we’re the right people to make that call? Why do we get to make that choice?”
Tracy grappled with the same issues. “We made the choice to attack them. We didn’t know what the end result would be.”
“So that makes it right?’
“No.” She exhaled and waited until Peyton looked her in the eye. “But we need to find our moral footing in this new world. There are no judges or juries. No police to arrest someone who’s broken the law or remind people why they shouldn’t do it in the first place.”
“I don’t think that gives us the freedom to kill other people whenever it suits us.”
“I agree. But we need to be prepared to make the tough choices. Walter could have killed Steve, but he didn’t. Madison could have killed Bill or any number of people back home. All we can do is make the best call in the moment.”
“How do you do that?”
Tracy shrugged. She didn’t know the answer to that question. “I can’t tell you how to do it. All I can say is that I ask myself, if this person stays alive, will my life be in danger? Will someone I love die? Could this person find me and hurt me? If the answer is yes, then…”
“Tonight happens.”
She nodded. They could talk the issue in circles, but it wouldn’t make the answer any more clear. “Come help me load up on supplies. There’s a ton of stuff downstairs.”
Peyton followed her down the steps in silence. They were on shaky moral ground. Tracy knew that. In the deepest parts of her soul, she understood tonight was about more than a calculated risk assessment.
It was about vengeance. No judge would order those men to pay for their crimes. No warden in a jail would lock them up and take away their liberty. In Tracy’s mind, it was up to people like their little group to keep and maintain some semblance of order.
But she couldn’t tell Peyton that. He needed to find his own way in this world. He needed to make his own determination as to where the line fell and whether he could cross it.
All she could do was hope that in the moment, he made the right decision.
At the foot of the stairs she stopped and turned to him, holding her arms out for a hug. The big guy bent and wrapped his arms around her. She smiled against his cheek. “Thank you for coming with us, Peyton. You’ve always been like the son I’ve never had. I’m glad you’re here.”
He squeezed a bit harder and Tracy smiled.
“Thanks, Mrs. S.” Peyton stood up and turned away before she could see his face. After a moment of throat clearing and eye rubbing, he turned back around. “So… what should we do now?”
A voice from the other room made them both turn around.
“First, you can join an old guy for a drink. Then you can help tear this house apart.”
Walter sat in the dining room with a bottle of bourbon and a handful of glasses waiting on the table.
Peyton cocked his head. “You know I’m not twenty-one, right?”
Walter waved him off. “As far as I’m concerned, that law no longer exists. Anyone who has my back in a firefight can have a little sip of liquid courage.”
Peyton half-laughed and walked over to the table before pulling out a chair. “I could have used this a few hours ago.”
Tracy smiled and joined them at the table. “Better late than never.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
MADISON
316 Rosemont Avenue, Chico, CA
11:30 p.m.
Madison stood a few feet away from Brianna, watching and waiting. Her former roommate sat curled up in a ball, holding Tucker’s favorite shirt in her hands. Every time she rocked forward, she twisted, the shirt now as tight as coiled rope.
She must have brought the scrap of fabric with her on the fight. Something to hold onto while she fought to avenge him. A talisman. Madison pinched the bridge of her nose to stop any tears. She couldn’t cry now. She needed to be Brianna’s strength.
At last, Brianna sniffed back snot and spoke. “I thought… If only I killed them all… I would be better.” She sobbed and twisted the shirt even tighter. “I thought if they were all dead, I would feel something other than this ache that won’t go away.”
With a half-cry, half-shout, she turned to look at Madison. “But it’s all still there. All the hurt and pain and everything. Why is it all still there?” She blinked her wet lashes as more tears spilled down her cheeks. “I’m still just as broken.”
Madison crouched down beside Brianna and reached for her, sliding her arms around her small, shaking form and holding tight. Watching the strongest woman Madison knew fall apart tore at her insides. Seeing Brianna in so much pain, knowing it came from the loss of such a wonderfu
l person like Tucker, it almost broke Madison, too.
But she couldn’t break down. Brianna needed her. “I don’t know why it’s all still there. I wish I did.” Madison rubbed Brianna’s back up and down while she sobbed.
After a few minutes, Madison pulled back. “But there’s one thing I do know. Tucker wouldn’t want this. He wouldn’t want you to fall apart now.”
Brianna looked down at the T-shirt still twisted in her hands.
“He knew how strong you are and how tough you could be. He would want you to still be that girl who can take on six bad guys and never back down.” Madison paused. “He would want you to survive, Brianna.”
The tears started up again, but this time Brianna brushed them away, anger taking the place of pain. “I knew this would happen.” She stomped one boot-clad foot on the ground. “I knew that jerk would leave me. I just didn’t think it would be so soon.” As the last words came out, she broke down sobbing again, too overcome with emotions to do anything but cry.
Madison wished there was something she could do or say to help. She eased closer until their shoulders rubbed. She might not have the words to relieve any of the ache, but she could stay there. She could keep Brianna company in the dark.
They had been friends before all of this, but now Madison thought of Brianna as more of a sister. Reaching out, she took Brianna’s hand. “Whatever happens, I’m here for you. You’re as close to a sister as I’ll ever have. Whatever you need, I’ll be there. If it’s a shoulder to cry on, or someone to go shooting with, or even a sidekick on a quest for neon nail polish, I’ll be your girl.”
Brianna smiled a bit through the tears. “Thank you, Madison.”
“No, thank you. We would never have made it this far without you, Brianna. I owe you more than I can ever repay.”
Brianna wiped at her face again. “Just stay alive, okay? That’ll be payment enough.”
Madison smiled and reached for another hug.
A knock sounded on the door and Madison pulled away to see her mom standing in the doorway.
“I hate to interrupt, but your father is insisting we all gather together for a toast.”
Madison raised an eyebrow. “With what?”
“Bourbon.”
“You can’t be serious.”
Her mom leaned back and glanced down the stairs. “Oh, I’m serious. And if you don’t hurry down there and get some, I can’t guarantee Peyton and your dad will leave you any.”
Brianna wiped at her face. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”
Madison’s mom tsked at her. “You’re no such thing. All I see before me are two young women who underneath all their beauty have spines made of steel.” She cocked her head toward the stairs. “Come on, they’re waiting.”
“Not for much longer!”
Peyton’s voice echoed up the stairs and both Madison and Brianna found the strength to laugh.
CHAPTER THIRTY
WALTER
316 Rosemont Avenue, Chico, CA
11:30 p.m.
Walter poured a finger’s worth of bourbon into five glasses Tracy found in the kitchen and Peyton passed them around the table. Once everyone had a glass, he raised his in a toast.
“The last two weeks have been some of the hardest of my life. But tonight, I’m thankful for those of you sharing this table.” Walter paused and focused on Brianna. “Although some of us are no longer with us, their memory is still fresh in our minds and will forever be in our hearts.”
He took a breath and glanced at his wife and daughter. “Tonight we drink to not just what we’ve survived, but what the future holds. It’s up to us to make the most of it.”
Walter raised his glass a little higher before bringing it to his lips. The amber liquid poured down his throat and he drained the glass before setting it on the table. He meant every word of that toast and a million more he didn’t trust his voice to say. Losing Tucker and Drew was the last thing he wanted.
Watching his wife and daughter take life-threatening risks wasn’t easy. But they survived. The five of them still sucked in the evening air and pumped blood through their veins. They would live another day.
Peyton took a sip next to him and launched into a coughing fit, gagging and hacking as he set the glass down. “Ugh. That stuff’s foul. How do you drink it?”
“One sip at a time.” Walter smiled. “You get used to it.”
Peyton pushed his glass up the table. “No, thanks.”
Madison set hers down with a grimace. “I don’t know. It’s not that bad. Kind of makes me feel all warm inside.”
Tracy gave Walter an oh, great look and he shrugged. Madison earned her choice whether to drink or not. She’d grown up so much in such a short time. Or maybe, Walter thought, she’d already been there, he just hadn’t been willing to see it.
The ambush that night had proven a few things to Walter, most important of all that teamwork meant the difference between life and death. No one tried to be the hero. No one broke protocol and got injured or killed. They all worked together to accomplish the mission.
They all survived.
He didn’t know what the future would bring, but as long they could count on each other, they would endure. Survive. Grow.
Brianna took another sip of the liquor and cleared her throat. “I want to thank all of you for coming here. You didn’t have to fight these men. You could have decided to just pack up and leave, but you didn’t.”
She glanced up at Walter before turning to Madison. “You stayed out all night and scoured the town to find them. I can’t thank you enough for that. If you hadn’t found them, we wouldn’t be sitting here. I would always be wondering where they were and beating myself up for not finding them myself.”
Madison started to speak, but Brianna held up her hand as she turned to Walter. “Mr. Sloane, you took a bullet, but kept on fighting. And then you risked opening up your wound or worse to come here and fight again. I couldn’t have done this without you, so thank you.”
“It’s the least we all could do, Brianna.”
“No, it’s not.” She shook her head and looked around. “All of us made a choice to come here and end these men’s lives. I know it was hard and ugly and maybe a little bit wrong, but Tucker deserved it. He—” She stuttered a bit on her words and took another sip of bourbon. She grimaced as she finished. “He deserved so much more than a bullet to the chest.”
Pressure built behind Walter’s eyes, but he willed his emotions back. In the short time he’d spent with Tucker, he had grown to appreciate not only the kid’s intelligence, but his steadfast commitment to Brianna. The two seemed made for each other. To watch her suffer without him was painful and tragic.
He glanced up at his wife. Tracy’s eyes shimmered with tears and as she turned from the weight of his stare, one spilled down her cheek.
Walter knew that a disaster of this scale, whether caused by a terrorist attack or the sun, would wreak havoc. But living it was a whole different beast. He poured more bourbon into his glass and downed it.
So many people would die in the next few weeks. So many were already dead. When winter hit the northern states, people would freeze by the millions. By spring so many who survived would starve. All this little ragtag group could do was ride out this apocalypse.
No amount of heroics or sacrifice would stop the loss of life on a grand scale. Cities would burn. Governments would fall apart. People they knew would die.
But in the end, Walter, Tracy, and the three kids sitting beside them would emerge to rebuild and start anew. It wouldn’t be easy. Hell, it would be the hardest thing Walter had ever done. Harder than OCS or TBS, harder than watching his wife give birth to their daughter. Harder than accepting that Madison was all grown up.
In the coming weeks, this little family would be tested, but they would survive. They didn’t have a choice.
He set the empty glass on the table and smiled. “How about we pack it up for the night and come back in the morning?
We can dig through this place a lot easier in the daylight.”
DAY FOURTEEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
MADISON
316 Rosemont Avenue, Chico, CA
8:00 a.m.
“Remind me never to drink bourbon with broken ribs.” Madison hunched over the sink in the trashed house, trying to decide whether her breakfast needed to come back up.
“Really?” Brianna glanced up from the living room with raised brows. “I would think a few shots of bourbon would take care of the pain.”
“It did last night. But now I’ve got a headache and I’m nauseous, and every time I bend over to hurl, my midsections hurts like a linebacker hit me full-speed.”
Brianna started laughing, a little snicker at first, but the longer she looked at Madison in her bent over state, gripping the counter like a lifeline, she lost it. Huge, baying laughs came out of her little mouth and she landed in a heap on the couch as she dissolved in a fit.
Peyton walked in carrying an armload of fertilizer and froze. “What’s going on?” He stared at Brianna as she convulsed and snorted. “Did she have some sort of psychotic break? Please tell me she’s not delusional.”
With a cough and mighty wallop on her chest, Brianna righted herself. “Not delusional. Just amused. Our good friend Madison has her first hangover.”
Peyton glanced Madison’s way. “From the bourbon? Gross. How could you drink enough of that stuff to be hungover?”
Madison shrugged, then winced when it hurt, sending Brianna into another fit of giggles. “It tasted fine last night.”
“Well, that seals the deal for me. No liquor, ever.” Peyton set the massive bag of fertilizer on the floor next to the other items they found.
