Naomi turned to him, feeling betrayed. “You don’t?”
Calvin retreated into his mind for a moment. He turned back to the door. “If you do, start praying. They’re going to need His help.”
Calvin vanished inside.
Naomi stood alone, watching the torches grow smaller with every second. The cold wind lapped against her solemn face and her short blond hair. She felt sorrow, not exactly for the men that held her at gunpoint and ruined her trust with her brother, but that she’d lost two more allies who could’ve helped save Trinity. Allen could boast about his independence all day long, but when the Scrapers attacked last night, they had needed the Ryans to survive. Fractured, both families were in jeopardy.
4
Return
Before heading to bed, Naomi and Calvin helped Allen fortify the front and back doors. They used scrap wood from the broken defense wall and nailed planks across both entrances, leaving the upper balcony door as the only way inside. They pushed furniture in front of that door. They were not particularly happy with sleeping upstairs after seeing the large bloodstains on the hallway floor. Nevertheless, it was the only part of the house where not every room had broken windows. Seeing that his door was damaged beyond repair, Allen slept in the study.
Using candlelight, Naomi changed out of her clothes and snuggled into the bed next to her husband. Guilt dripped on her like a leaking faucet. Every time it dripped, she wondered if she should be with the Ryan brothers. Dark thoughts came into her mind regarding the men who captured her daughter. She prayed that night, harder and more earnest than ever before in her life. Trinity was too young and too innocent to be a part of that world. Her age might be the only thing keeping her safe. There weren’t many men who’d go after a thirteen year old. But Becca... Naomi’s stomach twisted into a tight knot. Naomi’s heart broke for the girl. She felt that black claw of terror that Calvin had described squeezing the life out of her chest.
Calvin wrapped his arms around her, not caring that she still smelled like death and looked like it too. He didn’t say any comfortable words. He was just as silent and perhaps more rigid than herself. Neither one of them would rest tonight. Naomi held on to some small hope that Conner would knock on the door tomorrow with the rescued girls. Becca and Trinity would hug her. Everyone would get a proper apology for all the backstabbing and say a warm goodbye before each would go their way.
It was a wonderful dream.
They got up before dawn the next morning.
For breakfast, Allen made large plates of preserved vegetables, powdered eggs, grits, and pancakes. He gave them a vitamin supplement and plenty of water. It was the fullest meal they had since they arrived at his house just over a month ago. Naomi couldn’t help but wonder if they would’ve eaten this lavishly every meal if she’d not invited the Ryans. As big as a debacle as that may have been, she didn’t regret rescuing them in Philly. However, allowing them to live with her was a different story.
Without talking, the three of them finished their meal and continued to fortify their home. The last thing they wanted was for another raid to happen before they set out to spy on the scrapyard.
They spent the whole morning boarding up windows.
As Naomi went to gather more wood from the felled fence, she noticed the long row of tarp-covered bodies. The dirt must’ve been too hard to bury them. At least the cold would keep them from rotting. Naomi stared at them for a moment. She remembered the two people she shot the night before. Beneath the anger, she felt shame. The world would tell her that she was just defending her home, and it was her right to do so. That was true, but she also made the choice to pull the trigger. She could’ve just as easily surrendered the supplies and driven away. Instead she took two lives.
Collecting a bundle of wood, she returned inside and helped Allen board up the downstairs window. She held the planks in place. He hammered them. There was an uncomfortable silence to the way they worked. Naomi wanted to bring up last night’s talk, but she knew it was a conversational minefield. They didn’t need any more distractions.
As Naomi went to the kitchen to collect a water bottle, she noticed Calvin at the dining room table. He was hunched over a legal pad sketching something. Curious, Naomi walked up behind him. She glanced over his shoulder, looking at the fine sketch of the scrapyard.
“When we go scouting, I’ll get a better idea of the dimensions,” Calvin said.
“It looks good,” Naomi admitted. She’d forgotten how good of a sketch artist her husband was. As an experimental electronic engineer, he was always designing little robots or mapping out AC currents for different projects.
Naomi returned to Allen. He had finished up a window without her. The house grew darker with every plank they hung. Naomi folded in beside him and picked up where she left off.
Naomi spoke softly. “Maybe we can make a trade for Trinity.”
Allen drove in another nail.
Naomi continued. “They came here for the supplies. Perhaps if we give them some, they’d give us back Trinity.”
Allen grunted out of annoyance.
Naomi’s mouth made a line on her face as she watched him.
Allen kept hammering. “You really think these people are that civilized?”
“No,” Naomi admitted. “But it’s worth a try.”
“They’ll kill you, Naomi,” Allen said, drawing a nail from his tool belt. “That’s after they’ve had their way with you.”
“Wonderful,” Naomi said with disgust. “But seriously, Allen, what if this whole conflict can be resolved peacefully?”
Allen took a deep breath. He lowered his hammer and turned to her. There was a new tiredness to his expression. “These are bad people, Naomi. They prostitute women. They murder. They took your daughter.”
“Maybe for leverage,” Naomi argued. “What if they’re only keeping her so we surrender our supplies?”
Allen’s face grew dark. “You didn’t listen to me when I told you about the Ryans and nearly got us all killed. So listen to me now, these people are takers. We’ve seen their storehouse. They have more than enough to survive, but yet they still attacked us. They aren’t concerned with a couple of canned beans. They want control. You, being what you are, should know that most people are evil. Nothing you can do can change that.”
Wearing a bleak frown, Naomi silently returned to her work.
It was mid-afternoon when the entire first floor was fortified.
Calvin had made a pretty good sketch of the scrapyard. He’d marked ‘Xs’ where he saw the guards patrolling and drew curving arrows to mark their paths. Being from memory, it wasn’t a perfect representation.
They packed traveler’s gear. As they stepped outside, Naomi’s eyes were drawn to her husband’s Land Rover. The rugged eight-seater vehicle got her out of Philadelphia. It had bullet holes in the fender and cracked windows, but still functioned. Part of her was tempted to load it full of supplies and just leave. Rescuing Trinity came first, but the other thought selfishly stayed in her mind.
They headed back out into the woods. The skies had clouds, but little snow. Keeping an eye out for danger, they took the four-hour walk to the scrapyard. Instead of going belly down on the cliffside, they stalked around the scrapyard, getting a 360-degree view of the land. The fence didn’t have any visible breaches.
The guards walked a different patrol route, meaning they changed paths daily. Allen remarked that it was to prevent spies from learning their patrol route.
They also saw a number of bicycle riders arrive and leave the compound. Many of them dropped off large backpacks full of supplies. Naomi kept a keen eye out for the Ryan brothers, but didn’t see them. After two hours of observation, they decided to head home.
The sky was pitch black by the time they arrived at the house. They hiked up the external balcony and unlocked the upstairs door. After they were all inside, they pushed the furniture in front of it and then proceeded downstairs. They worked together to illuminate th
e living room and watched Calvin finish his sketch.
Feeling cramps from the hike, they slouched in their chairs.
Allen brainstormed. “They’re much better organized than I thought. It seems they’re active throughout the day, meaning we have to plan the extraction for nightfall.”
“I thought that was always the plan,” Naomi remarked.
“Nighttime poses its own set of challenges,” Allen said. “During my time with the SEALs, we had proper night vision goggles and frequent radio contact. We don’t have that luxury anymore.”
Calvin nodded in agreement. “And a torch light is practically a signal flare for their guards.”
Allen stroked his beard absentmindedly. “Not only do we need to get to the girls without being spotted, we need to get them out, too. This might be plausible for Becca and Trinity, but I can’t vouch for the other captives.”
“We can come back for them,” Naomi said with determination.
Allen eyed her skeptically. “We might not have a choice. If one of them get ornery that we’re saving the younger girls and not them, they might start to scream.”
Calvin glanced up from his sketch. “You think they’d go that low?”
Naomi felt her stomach swirl. “They might be desperate or jealous.”
“We release them all at one time then,” Allen said. “Hopefully, the chaos will provide us enough time to escape.”
“We can arm them, too.” Calvin suggested.
Naomi didn’t like the idea. “The ones we saw looked drugged or traumatized to the point of insanity. They might not even know what’s happening to them. Putting a gun in their hands is risky.”
The three of them fell silent.
Calvin finished the sketch. He pointed to the right side of the two-story house. It was on the opposite side of the cliff. “We can breach here.” He pointed at the fence and moved his finger alongside the scrapyard. “And use this road to get to the house, assuming that’s where they store all the girls. Then we exit out the way we came in and loop around the back until we are back in our neck of the woods. If the girls stay quiet, it might work.” He adjusted his fractured glasses. “Thoughts?”
Allen reviewed the plan. “If we can get them on the night they’re throwing one of their bonfire celebrations, this might work. Otherwise, there’s no telling how many hostiles will be inside the house. Also, we won’t be able to use firearms if we run into trouble. Are the two of you comfortable using knives?”
The breath sucked out Calvin’s lungs. His face turned a shade of green. “I--I think so.”
Allen stared at him intensely. “You can’t think. You need to know. One second of hesitation will compromise everything.”
Calvin cast down his eyes. When he looked back at Allen, his face was determined. “If it means saving Trinity, I can do it. I will do it.” He was speaking more to himself than Allen.
The men awaited Naomi’s response. She’d retreated into her thoughts, recalling the man’s fingers she’d severed in Philadelphia. It was out of self-defense. To slash a man when he slept felt like a whole other matter. Despite this, she nodded to the men.
“How soon do you think we’ll be ready, Allen?” Naomi asked.
Allen thought on it. “With the changing of the guards, there’s no telling how soon we will be able to establish a pattern. If we make camp outside their place for the next two nights, perhaps we’ll have a good enough understanding to act.”
Calvin ran his hand up his hair. “You think Trinity will be okay for that long?”
“That’s out of our control,” Allen said. “If you were concerned about getting her quickly, you should’ve stuck with the Ryans.”
A look of guilt strained Calvin’s face.
Allen sighed. “Listen, both of you, having to wait while your daughter suffers is not easy, but if you want to make sure everyone survives this ordeal, being impulsive is out of the question.”
They ate a hearty meal that night. Naomi thought the stress would keep her from eating, but instead her appetite raged. She failed to stop herself from consuming too much and went to bed with an achy belly. After a month of rations, her stomach wasn’t ready for such a big meal.
Keeping their weapons close by, Naomi became resolute that this would be the last time in a real bed before getting Trinity back. She promised herself to enjoy it, but thinking about getting sleep made it much harder to actually rest. Calvin offered a few solutions to help her out, but after kissing for a few minutes, Naomi couldn’t get into it. Both of them lay back, unsatisfied.
“Sorry, I just…”
“Yeah, I know,” Calvin replied with a hopeless sigh.
“We’ll get her back, and then life will be normal.”
The moment the words left her mouth, she realized how disingenuous they were. How could anything be normal after what happened to Trinity?
Somehow, Naomi’s body gave way and she slipped into a horrible nightmare.
It was immediately interrupted by someone banging on the door.
In darkness, Naomi and Calvin jolted out of their bed.
A line of light danced beneath their door.
“It’s Allen. Open up,” a voice said urgently on the other side.
Calvin quickly got out of the bed. He almost tripped on his shoe on the way to the door. He opened it. Allen stood on the other side, holding a candle. “They’re back.”
He quickly headed to the balcony window
Calvin twisted back to Naomi. She had a mixture of confusion and fear. “What’s happening?”
“I don’t know,” Calvin said.
Naomi reached over and turned on the hand crank lantern.
They took it and joined Allen by the semi-barricaded window. Cold winter wind brushed against Allen’s bushy beard. He twisted back to them. “Turn that thing off.”
Naomi obeyed without question.
The three of them peered out of the two-inch gap between planks on the barred window.
In the distant woods, a single torch bobbed. It was too far away to see who wielded it.
“Do you think it’s the Ryans?” Calvin whispered.
“Can’t tell,” Allen admitted. “But they’re coming this way.”
Naomi’s heart pounded. “What do we do?”
“We wait,” Allen said firmly.
The small fire moved closer, but was still about two hundred feet from the front door.
The Baxters were completely still.
Another fire appeared in the distance. Then another.
Naomi felt her entire body become rigid as over a dozen more torches lit up. Another dozen more followed, moving in a broken horizontal line toward the house.
“Scrapers,” Allen said spitefully.
Calvin gawked. “There’s so many of them.”
Naomi felt her world spin.
Allen’s commanding voice slapped them back into reality. “Calvin, get wood and nails. We’re sealing ourselves in. Naomi, get the guns from my cabinet and all the ammo you can carry. Lay them out on the floor here.”
Without thinking, Naomi and Calvin followed orders.
Allen stayed back at the window, watching the reinforcements. A sliver of light made a bar over his eyes as he slowly unslung his assault rifle.
Naomi dashed over the sticky bloodstains on the floor and opened Allen’s bedroom door. Turning on the lantern and placing it on the floor, Naomi picked up the bundle of weapons and moved them into the wide hallways. She rushed back inside and grabbed the deceptively heavy ammo boxes.
Calvin raced upstairs with wood planks and Allen’s tool belt slung over his shoulder. Him got to work nailing shut the door. Meanwhile, Naomi laid out the guns in a row. She opened the ammo boxes and fed rounds into the weapon, just how her brother had taught her. There were hunting rifles, two shotguns, and four handguns.
Allen joined her in loading the weapons. Despite the tension, they both took their time. Neither one of them wanted to jam the weapons.
Ca
lvin played scout. “Guys.”
Allen and Naomi kept working as he talked.
“They’ve stopped moving forward.”
Allen and Naomi traded looks. They got up and joined Calvin by the window.
The semicircle of torches stopped just before exiting the woods, preventing a clear visual of any of the targets. Nevertheless, there were at least twenty.
A voice yelled out from the woods. It was a man’s, confident, soothing, and friendly. “My name is Logan! Sorry we never got a chance to meet the other night! Prior business engagements! I was hoping to make it up to you this evening!”
Naomi tried to pinpoint his voice. It could’ve come from any one of the torchbearers.
“I’m going to assume you’re listening,” Logan continued after a brief pause. “So here's what I’m offering: the girls for your supplies!”
Naomi and Calvin traded worried looks.
Allen slipped a fresh magazine into his automatic rifle.
Logan went on. “To ease your mind, I made sure they are both undefiled, despite the younger one’s violent outburst.”
Calvin moaned. “Oh, Trinity, what have you done?”
“Before you decide to retaliate, let me remind you that my offer is generous.” He said. “You can always find more food, but a human life is irreplaceable, and I’m giving you two.”
Allen aimed his rifle.
“You have three minutes to open the door!” Logan said. “The time starts now!”
Suddenly, every torch cut out as if dipped in water.
Allen cursed under his breath as darkness hid his targets.
It was completely silent.
Some of the bushes moved as the targets changed position.
Calvin ran both hands up his scalp. “Maybe we should make the trade.”
Allen grunted. “Bad idea.”
Calvin turned to Naomi, who was still watching the woods. Calvin swallowed. “From a logical standpoint, Logan makes a good case. What good are supplies if we’re dead? Besides, they outnumber us six to one. We can’t win this.”
Allen glared at him. “The minute we open our door, they’ll kill you and me and take Naomi back to their camp.”
Aftermath (Book 2): Aftermath Page 4
