But there were benefits to the location. They had enough water with the number of streams in the area, and there were plenty of greens to forage, especially without any so-called weed control in the parks and yards of the homes dotting the area. And while Austin worried that the NWO had tracked them, on some level he knew that they hadn’t been covering easy ground. Heading west had made sense, but it had made for rough travel. That in itself offered some measure of safety—or, at least, he thought it did.
Unfortunately, they were in sore need of a steady source of protein. Hunting had fallen off, and while they were surviving, by no means were they thriving. Ennis had managed to harvest a couple of wild turkeys from the forest, but there just wasn’t much else to hunt where they were—not with so many people trying to survive off of what they could catch and scavenge from the forests.
Austin breathed easier as they got further from the highway, traveling up the deserted two-lane road that was overgrown on both sides with tall, dry grass that made a rustling sound in the breeze. The lodge they’d taken over was down a gravel road with a gate blocking vehicle entrance. There was even a small barn for the horses. It really was an ideal home for their large group… but the location was wrong.
“He’s still out there,” Austin said, cutting through the silence. With Amanda, he knew he didn’t have to explain who he was talking about.
She was his other half. She knew what he was thinking most of the time, and vice versa. They were so much more than housemates, though he hadn’t quite figured out how to deal with what that meant. For now, he was content to keep his relationship with her in a neat little box to be dealt with later. Survival came before romance.
“I know,” she replied.
“We don’t know if or when Zander is going to show up. I don’t believe for a second he’s going to give up, Amanda. And as much as I’d like to think we lost him, I can’t. With our large group, there’s no way we hid our tracks all that well. They’re probably not all that far behind us even now,” he stated. “If not Zander, his people, ready to report back to him.”
It was the same thing they’d been saying every day for the last several weeks, ever since they’d lost Nash and the house—everything had changed that day. They’d been on the move, crossing the land toward the upper part of Utah and the lower part of Wyoming, heading loosely toward Oregon on what Tonya had joked was their own version of the Oregon Trail. They’d done their best to stick to the mountain areas, preferring to stay out of the small towns that had dotted their way west.
“Are we supposed to keep running?” Amanda asked.
“I think we have to,” he said, knowing it wasn’t a permanent solution.
It took a moment for her to speak, and he almost didn’t hear her when she did.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
He swallowed down arguments, knowing just how badly she wanted to remain at the lodge—and how badly he felt the need to keep going. “Sarah is working on those files,” he reminded her. “That’s what we’re working toward. There’s a chance we can end all this; we just have to be patient and stay alive long enough to make it happen.” Beside him, she’d come to a stop and leaned on a tree, all but demanding he stop and listen. He did.
She leaned back, and glanced up toward the lodge before she spoke. “Austin, look what we have here. At some point, we have to stop, and there’s no guarantee Sarah’s going to come up with anything. We have to be realistic. I can’t imagine the entire NWO operation can be taken down with a single USB stick. I mean, look what they’ve managed to accomplish thus far! They aren’t going to be easy to beat, and I don’t see how our little group is going to save the world. What are we going to do, blackmail them? We have nothing. And I know you think they’re following us, but we can’t be sure of that.”
Her face looked pained, and he knew she was speaking reason, but it just didn’t ring true. “We have the key, I just know it,” he answered. “You can’t give up on that yet.”
She let out a long sigh. “I’m willing to try, but we have to figure something out. I don’t want to keep running.”
“Amanda, we don’t have any other options!”
He stared at her for full seconds, willing himself not to give in. She was tired, yeah; they all were. But his gut told him that the NWO were following. And he couldn’t do this without her. Finally, she pushed off the tree and gave him a quick nod—of acquiescence if not agreement—and they began walking again.
They made it up to the lodge and found that everyone else was already back. As Austin stepped into the main living area with the huge brick fireplace as its focal point, he automatically looked around for Savannah. He didn’t see her, though. Lately, she’d been doing a very good job of keeping herself separated from the rest of the group.
“Did you get anything?” Wendell demanded, leaning forward from a chair pushed up against the wall dividing the kitchen and living space.
Austin just looked at him, still not all that pleased to have him along. Even though the guy’s alcohol withdrawal was long gone, there was no denying that Wendell was generally unpleasant to be around. He was separated from the others, moody as always, and doing what he did best—nothing but watching and eavesdropping.
“I guess not,” the man muttered, as if he would have done better.
“What happened?” Ennis asked casually.
Austin shrugged, but let out a sigh and sat beside his brother to take his boots off. “Same thing that always happens. What about you guys?” he asked Malachi and Jordan, who were sitting at the table with a chess set.
“We got chased out almost immediately,” Malachi replied, grimacing.
Jordan nodded. “Got confronted about half a mile from the campground on the east side of town. Guys were convinced we were from the other campground. We decided it was best to walk away.”
“You walked away? No fighting?” Tonya Loveridge asked, entering the room as she wiped her hands on a dish towel, kissing her son on his head before she moved to sit down.
Malachi looked down at the chess board. “Basically,” he replied after she’d turned away.
Tonya shook her head, but didn’t look surprised. Malachi had managed to convince her to let him go on the run with the agreement that it wouldn’t be dangerous. There was no way any of them could have guaranteed that demand, though, and she knew it.
“Did you have to use the gun?” she asked.
Malachi put the chess piece he’d been holding down and finally met her eyes. “Nope. We talked our way out of it.” After a moment, his mother nodded, but Austin didn’t miss the fact that her eyes were more concerned than they’d been earlier. Doubtful, even.
“Same with us,” Amanda broke in. “I don’t think any of them are all that violent, Tonya. They’re all just trying to survive. Honestly, I say we leave them alone,” she added, earning a nod from Gretchen, who was sitting on one of the overstuffed sofas knitting with some yarn she’d found in one of the rooms. Drew echoed the sentiment as he continued using a knife to whittle a frog gig.
Tonya finally smiled and reached out to pat Amanda’s arm as if in thanks for the reassurance. Austin knew how she felt, though. As Malachi’s mother, she wouldn’t stop worrying about her son any more than he could stop worrying about his daughter. It didn’t matter whether or not these kids wanted to be treated as adults—they weren’t there yet. He knew where his daughter was, too—she’d be in her room upstairs or out on the back porch, one or the other. The doctor, on the other hand…
“Where’s Sarah?” he asked.
Ennis pointed up, meaning that she was upstairs again, locked away in the bedroom she’d claimed for herself. It had been a point of contention at first, but Austin had argued in favor of her having her own room. She was spending long nights awake, going through the files on the laptop after letting it charge on its solar charger during the day.
“I’m going to have dinner ready in about an hour,” Tonya announced before anyone could bring
up the subject of the single room again.
There were a few grimaces around the room, everyone knowing the only food available would be the greens Gretchen had harvested from the wild and the squirrels Ennis had managed to snare early that morning. The wild turkey had run out days ago, so they’d been eating squirrel and dandelions for days. It was getting old.
“Sounds great!” Harlen offered enthusiastically.
Austin suspected he was only trying to be nice, but at least someone was. Unlike Wendell, the man was a genuinely nice guy, and his counseling background had set him up as the natural mediator in the group.
“Where’s Savannah?” Austin finally asked, though he could guess well enough.
“She was on the upstairs balcony,” Malachi answered.
She’d been spending a lot of time up there or out back, alone and staring at the trees. Austin knew Nash’s death had hit her hard. Trying to give her space hadn’t seemed to do any good, and she seemed less and less inclined to make herself part of the group anymore. She was carrying a lot of guilt, still. No matter how much he, Amanda, and Ennis tried to assure her that there was nothing she could have done to stop Nash from going to the mine, she wasn’t buying it.
But, he had some time before dinner—he’d go up and keep trying to convince her.
2
Wendell had been watching the group for weeks, listening to the way they talked and interacted with one another, always excluding him. He knew they didn’t like him. He’d done nothing really wrong, but they looked at him like he was a pile of useless garbage. That’s the way he felt, at least. Everything was worse since they’d lost the prepper house, too. He hated being sober, and hated having to deal with everything and everyone.
And, for his part, Austin hated him. He could feel it every time the man looked his way. That’s what burned the most. Wendell had always thought Austin was some kind of God. He was the guy who’d had everything Wendell wanted. He’d been good-looking, popular, athletic and smart when they’d all known each other in school. The girls had flocked to him. Everyone had wanted to be around him—just like now.
Anything and everything Austin did was perfect. All the Bible thumpers treated him like he was the Messiah. They couldn’t see that Austin’s obsession with the stupid USB was going to get them all killed. Zander wouldn’t even be after them if Austin weren’t with them, but no one could see that. No, they were all mindless followers, and nothing Wendell said would make a difference.
Wendell had given up on telling them the truth—that if it weren’t for Austin and his sweet little princess, Zander would leave them alone to live out their lives. All they had to do was leave the two of them behind.
But instead they were all on some crusade to save the world.
It was ridiculous. To think one man with no military training could stop the NWO, and with just their little rag-tag group to help. But Austin was leading them on, pushing them to believe it. The man had an inflated ego, and always had in Wendell’s opinion.
Wendell let his hatred for Austin settle in his gut as he looked over to the one man he’d previously been able to count on. Even Ennis had been cold towards him lately, ever since they’d nearly died inside the house and he’d opted to get drunk rather than suffer a slow death. They acted as if he’d committed some horrible crime because he’d had a few drinks.
It wasn’t like they could have done anything else. They’d been pinned down inside a burning house. And he wasn’t the one who’d killed Nash, Audrey, or Bonnie. He’d been doing his part and protecting Savannah. Of course, Austin hadn’t even bothered to say thank you for saving his daughter. He never would. So, yeah, there was mutual hatred between them at this point, and Wendell didn’t expect it to go away any time soon.
His eyes drifted to where Malachi sat with his best buddy Jordan. The two of them had become very friendly. In fact, everyone seemed to like Malachi, too. Wendell couldn’t understand why, though. It was Malachi who’d been a jerk towards Nash. It was because of Malachi and Austin’s precious princess that Nash had been driven away from the house, alone and unprotected.
Wendell actively chose not to acknowledge his own role in encouraging Nash to leave. If anything, he’d pushed the inevitable—really, he’d only been looking out for the guy’s best interest. He couldn’t have known the idiot would go and get himself killed.
Yet, he did know he needed to do something, and fast, if he wanted to stick with the Merryman brothers and the God Squad. As much as he disliked them, they did prove useful. They were keeping him alive, albeit on squirrel, and that was a big deal. Unfortunately, his freeloading had gotten more and more noticeable since they’d left the house. Now that he’d even lost Ennis’s friendship, he’d begun worrying they were going to make him walk the plank, so to speak. He had to find a way to contribute now that the withdrawal was behind him, no matter how lousy he still felt.
He was ready to get involved and take down a deer or do something to redeem himself. He had to. He’d work on Ennis first, he decided. Down deep, Ennis was a good guy who’d welcome him back into his warm embrace now that he’d had some time to cool off. Wendell just had to prove himself, and he could do that. Then, he’d apologize, blame the alcoholism they were all so sure he suffered from, and vow to stay sober—it wasn’t like he had a choice.
“Ennis,” Wendell started, “I was wondering if I could go with you tomorrow?” He hoped he sounded cheerful about the idea.
Ennis glanced over at him with a puzzled frown. “Where?”
He forced a smile onto his face. “I overheard you say you’re going hunting in the morning.”
On the other side of the room Malachi and Jordan looked up from their chess game. “We were,” Malachi said in an unfriendly tone.
“I’d like to go,” Wendell said again. “I can help drag back the deer if you get one.”
Ennis hesitated briefly before nodding. “Fine. It’ll do you good to get some exercise and fresh air.”
Amanda, bossy as always, raised her eyebrows. “Are you up to that, Wendell? Sure you’ve regained your strength?” she asked, slightly sarcastic.
Yeah, he’d played up his weakness. He could admit he might have overplayed his hand just a touch, but so what? They’d get over it.
He gritted his teeth to keep from snarking back at her. He couldn’t tell her to mind her own business. He had to play nice.
Smiling again, he cleared his throat. “I’m feeling a lot better. I appreciate everyone’s understanding as I went through a very difficult time,” he added, looking around to meet everyone’s eyes—except for Austin and Savannah, who were upstairs, which he didn’t mind a bit. “I know I’ve not been a huge help, but I’m feeling good, my mind is clear, and I’m ready to be a part of all this. I appreciate the prayers,” he said, smiling at Tonya.
Harlen, the man who’d decently helped in his detoxing, smiled and nodded before anyone. “You’ve made the first big step, beating the disease and admitting you have a problem. The hardest part is behind you. Your journey to sobriety is going to be a little easier than it would be if we were in the old world, too! You won’t have alcohol on every corner, tempting you, but you are going to have cravings. I think we all need to be there for Wendell as he gets through the next stage of his recovery,” the former drug and alcohol counselor said, looking around as he finished up another over-the-top pronouncement in that deep baritone voice of his. He had been helpful, even if he’d become a bit insufferable since the worst of the withdrawal had actually ended.
Wendell wished he could slap him, but it wasn’t like that would go over well.
“Thank you, Harlen. I appreciate the support,” Wendell forced out. “All of you have been amazing and I hope to repay your kindness.” He wrapped up with his best, charming smile.
The others didn’t look quite as accepting of his supposedly new outlook, but he knew the revivalists wouldn’t openly discourage him. After all, they were all peace, love, and joy, and talked nonstop abou
t saving the sinners of the world. Forgiveness was their shtick. He had a few sins that were pretty dark—too dark for them to stomach, for sure—but he’d play along. He’d use his problem to his advantage if it gained him sympathy and kept him in the group.
“I’d like to go along, as well, if that’s okay,” Harlen said. “It’s about time I learned how to hunt.”
“Works for me,” Ennis said. “The more of us that know how to track and hunt, the better it’ll be. We need to be doing weekly hunts to keep our bellies full; dividing to conquer will make it easier.”
Wendell smiled, pretending he believed that statement. He wasn’t for one second looking forward to going out at the crack of dawn to look for a deer, which seemed to be everywhere until there were rifles around.
“Great. I’m looking forward to the time outdoors and clearing my head,” Wendell said.
“It’s going to be an early morning. We’ll all need to be plenty rested,” Ennis reminded him.
“I’m going to go fetch some water from the stream,” Harlen announced, getting to his feet.
“I’ll help,” Ezra said, putting down the months-old magazine he’d been reading in the corner of the room.
Wendell knew they were waiting for him to volunteer to carry one of the jugs of water. He inwardly grimaced while pasting on a big, fake smile. “I’ll go along,” he volunteered, taking the first steps back into the good graces of the household.
Ennis’s look of surprise didn’t go unnoticed, but Wendell ignored it and followed the other men outside as if this was truly going to be his new norm.
“You’re doing well,” Harlen said as they walked towards the running stream.
“I’m trying. I know I have a lot to make up for,” Wendell said, doing his best to sound contrite.
“I think we’ve all made mistakes. Don’t get too hung up on that part of your recovery. You have to focus on yourself,” Harlen said. “Just keep going forward, being positive, and you’ll be a-okay.”
Small Town EMP (Book 3): Survive The Conflict Page 2
