Before Harper could speak, she was shoved into the closet. The door slammed, locking her in complete darkness.
“Nana, wait!” She slammed her shoulder against the door.
“The Tupperware is your potty,” Nana’s muffled voice said. “Blanket and pillow are for sleeping. Get acquainted with the items. Leonard’s a very busy man and won’t be able to see you for a few days.”
“Nana!” Harper hammered the door with her fist. Something scraped underneath the doorknob, presumably the chair. Footsteps vanished. A door closed.
Harper rubbed her hand up her scalp, paced briefly, and then kicked the door.
***
Harper propped her back against the wall and hugged her knees. The small sliver of light from under the door became the indicator that she hadn’t fallen asleep. This must’ve been a fraction of what Eli felt, she thought. Completely alone in a strange place. Unsure if your loved ones are coming for you. She couldn’t imagine days like this, but she probably wouldn’t be able to tell. In complete blackness, time meant nothing.
The assault on Bimberg would be tonight, she knew, but would her people still march without her command? If they didn’t, Brandy would get the jump on them and their struggle to survive, to build, and to restore would be rendered meaningless. Perhaps Harper wasn’t giving Brighton’s people enough credit. After all, they withstood one assault. If they didn’t have Harper’s gunner turret, would that’ve still been the outcome?
A distant door creaked open. Boots clacked against the floor. Harper lifted her head. Light grew brighter underneath the door as the person approached.
“James?” She felt her way up to the wall with her zip tied hands and slowly pulled to her feet.
The person outside stopped. The sliver of light flickered softly and flowed under the door like amber waves. The doorknob jiggled. A key scratched inside the keyhole. Harper stepped to the back wall and got ready to tackle the person if the chance arose. The door opened slowly. The two men who’d originally zip tied her faced her. Both had normal builds with trimmed hair and beards. They wore different light sweaters and leather shoes and were probably in their early twenties. One held a baton club while the other held a candlestick.
“Come with us,” the light bearer said. “Resist and you’ll stay locked up.”
“Where are we going?” Harper asked as she shambled out of the door.
“You’ll see.”
They left the building, passing into the dark town. With an eerie incandescent glow, multiple bonfires lined the foggy street. The moon was full and black clouds crawled across the blanket of stars. A handful of silhouettes zipped down from their elevated homes, vanishing behind buildings and presumably landing in safety nets.
The men led Harper down the street and closer to where the bonfires took a sharp turn. Harper heard movement behind her. She twisted back, seeing James and Sawyer rushing past her and smacking both men with the stocks of their rifles. Harper’s captors staggered and then collapsed. Cowl and Dustin grabbed them by the wrists and dragged them into an alleyway between a tourist shop and candy store. Harper, James, and Sawyer followed them.
“We were looking all over for you. Are you okay?” James asked, gripping Harper by the upper arms with unchecked force. “Did they hurt you?”
“No,” Harper said, reeling from the swiftness of the attack.
“Did they touch you?”
“No, James. I’m fine,” Harper said, sharper than she’d intended.
Sawyer peered into the main street with his assault rifle pulled up to his chest. Meanwhile, Dustin and Cowl drew out the bundle of zip ties and locked up the two men by the wrists and ankles.
“Now that Harper is back, we should leave,” Sawyer said as he pulled his head back into the alley.
“I second that. The assault on that factory started at nightfall,” Cowl said. “We need to move.”
“Do we know that?” Harper asked.
“Well, no, but that was your plan.”
Dustin brushed himself off. “I don’t think momma would go through with it without us.”
“Either way,” James started. “We’ve wasted the whole day here. Hell, they even found the Humvee.”
Harper’s eyes went wide. “What?”
James nodded. “After they nabbed you, patrols have been coming in or out. We split up, half to wait at the Humvee and half looking for you. Within the next three hours, they spotted the truck and have been guarding it ever since. I think they believe one of us has the battery, but they are practically standing on it.”
Harper steadied her breathing. “Did you see any of Brandy’s men here?”
Her allies traded looks and shook their heads.
“I don’t believe so,” Dustin admitted. “It looks like these are the residents of Hamsburrow and that’s it.”
“Howie hasn’t been wrong yet.” Harper crossed her arms and crinkled her brow. “This doesn’t make sense.”
“Who cares?” Sawyer complained. “Karla needs me, and I’m sick of standing around. Let’s leave, Harper.”
She turned to Dustin. “Are you sure Trudy won’t march without us?”
“Seventy-five percent,” the farm boy replied.
Harper felt for her rifle, realizing it was still gone. She requested James’s and he surrendered it without question. “We came here for a reason. Let’s finish the job.”
Sawyer groaned. “How do you suppose we do that? Brandy never attacked, so they never needed a savior. I have a suspicion they aren’t going to want to risk their hides on their distant neighbor’s war.”
“If Brandy’s at their door, they’ll have a different perspective,” Harper stated.
“I don’t want to die before the big battle,” Sawyer replied.
“We all may die if we don’t get reinforcements.”
None argued. Most looked at their shoes.
“Let’s go find Leonard and put an end to this once and for all.” Harper slipped into the main street. Reluctant, the men followed.
They crept through Hamsburrow, avoiding light and sound as they slipped through unlocked windows and down empty streets. Harper led them parallel to the main street. They followed the bonfires out of the town and to a driveway that climbed up the valley side and ended at an enormous white home that was straight out of a magazine. On the large front lawn, people casually gathered around tables to eat and drink. A few musicians strummed away at acoustic guitars, one being Nana. Around the house’s perimeter, armed men patrolled.
“You think it’s like this every night?” James asked.
Harper scanned the crowd for anyone who seemed like the leader, but no one stood out.
“Do we know what this guy looks like, Harper?” Sawyer asked, already knowing the answer.
“We can head around the back,” Cowl suggested.
Harper shook her head. “I’m done sneaking.” She unstrapped the assault rifle. The rest echoed her move. James drew his knives.
“This is a bad idea,” Dustin stated the obvious.
“These people are our allies, so only shoot if they shoot first.”
“If they shoot first, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about it.” Sawyer bounced eyes across the dozen armed guards circling the party.
“Babe,” James said, wiping sweat away with the top of his knife-holding hand. “I really wish you didn’t lose your gun.”
Harper took one final whiff of that chilling mountain air and then burst forth from her hiding place.
The music, the people, everyone stopped as Harper, James, Dustin, Sawyer, and Cowl stepped into the party with guns raised and ready. The patrol repaid in kind, shooting glances at one another. Wide-eyed children and white-haired elders watched them with horror. A mother pulled her child close. A red-nosed man pulled himself from his seat.
Nana reached for her sawed-off shotgun.
Harper aimed right at her. “I’m looking for Leonard.”
The people exchanged worried looks.
Nana put her hand on the sawed-off’s grip, tempting Harper.
“I am he,” a soft voice said from one of the tables. Keeping her gun on Nana, she turned her eyes to the tall, kind-looking gentleman who wore rectangular bifocals, an olive sweater vest, slacks, and penny loafers. The corner of a small bandage bunched from his collarbone. “Dr. Leonard Dawn, PhD. Can I offer you something to eat?”
“Thanks for the offer,” replied Harper. “But I’m in a bit of a hurry.”
“She’s the one you were talking about, Nana? Harper something or other?” Leonard asked his ally.
“Definitely,” Nana didn’t take her hand off the sawed-off. “Ask her if she killed Jeromy and Colton.”
“They’re tied up between Hamsburrow Trinkets and the Sweet Shoppe,” Harper interrupted.
Leonard removed his glasses, fogged them with a breath, and wiped the lenses on his vest. “What can I do for you, Harper?”
“Listen.”
“Well,” Leonard put on his glasses. “You’ve certainly grabbed my attention, Mrs...”
“Murphy,” Harper said firmly. “My friends and I come from a nearby community. I understand we have the same enemy.”
Leonard tensed up. “I don’t quite follow.”
Harper looked over the people, taking note of their concealed bandages. “I have reason to believe you were attacked the other day. Am I wrong?”
The silver-haired man hesitated and frowned. “No.”
“The man in charge of that settlement is named Brandy. He came to my home, killed my friends, and abducted my son. I didn’t understand the extent of his influence until I started searching the surrounding communities. He’s enslaved dozens and murdered many more. He uses women as currency and shows no remorse. I’m heading to his camp tonight, and I’m going to kill him. I want your help.”
The sound of grasshopper legs could be heard in the silence.
Leonard cracked a nervous smile. “That’s certainly not what I expected.”
An old man pushed himself from the bench and rested his palms on his cane. “Leonard, if this is the same man--”
“I understand that!” Leonard shouted back. He took a breath, recollecting his cool. “The hour is late, Mrs. Murphy. I believe you should leave. If the Humvee we found is yours, you may collect it from my guardsmen.”
Harper lowered her assault rifle. “I say this with complete conviction: you won’t be safe until this man is gone.”
A woman pulled her child close and covered the girl’s ears. “They threatened to take my daughter. Do we wait until they strike again?”
“Keep quiet, Jessica,” a pretentious blonde woman commanded.
“No,” Jessica retorted. Her eyes watered. “We can’t just forget that they came into our homes and and--”
“Shut up, Jessica.”
“-- violated us and shot Elise in the head. She bled all over me. She bled everywhere.”
“Jessica, now!”
Jessica slid down to the grass and wept. Completely confused, her daughter hugged her and started crying too. At a nearby table, the tan man buried his face in his palms. His white-gold wedding band twinkled in the torchlight.
Leonard downed his glass of bubbly. “I excused you, Mrs. Murphy.”
“Screw you, man,” James stepped forward. “You need our help as much as we need yours. Stop cowering and come with us.”
Leonard clenched the glass almost till the point of breaking. “I am not a coward.”
“We know that,” Harper injected. “We are all after the same thing.”
“You are after unnecessary bloodshed,” Leonard argued. “We’ve had our fair share, thank you very much.”
“This is a waste of time,” Sawyer said lowly. “He’s a brick wall.”
Harper disregarded Sawyer with a scoff. Dustin and Cowl kept an eye on the surrounding gunmen.
“If Brandy razes my colony,” Harper said with absolute seriousness, “he will come here and take, take, take until there's nothing left. He has hundreds of those savages under his command. On a one-on-one, he wins, but if we work together, we have a fighting chance.”
Nana pulled her hand away from the sawed-off. “The chick has a point, Leonard. He only sent a handful at us last time.”
Leonard glared at her. Nana averted her eyes and kept her mouth shut.
“Come with us to the Bimberg factory and let’s put an end to this monster.”
Leonard thought for a while. The raised weapons felt heavy in everyone’s arms. After pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose, Leonard said, “Travel mercies, Harper Murphy. Now relieve yourselves from my property before anyone gets hurt.”
With a sigh, Harper gestured to fall back. James, Sawyer, Cowl, and Dustin lowered their weapons and stepped down the asphalt street
“Enjoy your champagne, Leonard,” Harper said. “If you want to make a difference, you know where to find me.”
Harper joined her allies and, together, they escaped into the foggy night.
***
The walls of Brighton appeared in the dim glow of their headlights. The distinct silhouettes of the town hall and chapel grew out of darkness. Harper slowed before the tarnished gate. The Hummer sputtered in place. Sawyer grabbed the driver and passenger seat, leaning himself between the front seats. His sleepless turquoise eyes scanned the town. Without light, their home looked like a ruin. A memory. A town of ghosts. Sawyer mumbled a curse.
Dustin tapped on the roof. His voice projected down from the gunner station. “Bimberg?”
Harper’s fingers coiled around the tough steering wheel. She felt her face sink with a frown. Images of war swirled in her psyche. Her people, her family, engaged with Brandy without reinforcements. Without her.
Shadows appeared at the gate’s threshold and wheeled away the wood barricades. A torch burst to life in the middle of the street. Trudy hung it above her head. Her silver hair bun sparkled. She waved them in.
Harper pulled in and parked next to the curb. Trudy trailed behind with a few of the farmers. The doors of the Humvee swung open and the passengers exited. Dustin yawned and stretched his arms.
“Karla?” Sawyer asked without his normal roguish facade.
“Everyone's inside.” Trudy nodded at the chapel.
Faint candlelight danced in the windowsills.
Harper thanked Trudy and went inside. People filled the pews all the way to the back. Some were familiar faces, and others were green recruits or women unshackled from forced servitude. Wood planks boarded bullet-shattered windows. Wax spilled from the seal and formed violet and indigo puddles of the creaking floors. Pastor Bruce turned pages of the King James in his chair that rested offset from the podium. He turned his soft gaze to Harper and lifted himself to his feet.
“We feared you wouldn’t return,” the holy man said honestly.
Harper took the podium while Dustin, James, Cowl, and Sawyer slid into the reserved front pew. Karla rested her head on her father’s shoulder.
The eyes of all landed on Harper. She forced herself to straighten up. “No help is coming.”
Held breaths.
“We don’t need it,” Harper said with a shy, confident smile. “All of us have endured trial after trial, and we are still standing. Tonight will be no different. We are fighting for what we’ve always fought for: family, order, and a better tomorrow.”
James smiled at her. Sawyer wrapped his arm around Karla, nodding. Trudy leaned on her son, Dustin. Martha Doyle wiped away a tear. Kimmy sat up with proper posture and hands on her lap, drinking in every word. Levi, nearly healed of his wounds, stroked his beard intently. Mitchell and his wife held hands. Farris put his straw hat on his lap. Dr. Hanson bounced his leg. Officers Yoakley and Winested sat at attention with Sergeant Cowl. The new recruits--bikers, farmers, students, city-borne, and country-grown--watched Harper in shared unity.
“Brandy stole our loved ones. He took our leader, destroyed our security, and tried to break us. But instead we doubl
ed our numbers.” Harper looked out at each one of them. “Brighton is more than a Fence and a home. It is a family and, as a family, we will overcome. All who are able, march with me tonight, and let’s show Brandy what happens when he messes with our family.”
The people nodded and mumbled in agreement.
Trudy put her feet down and stood. “What are you waiting for? Stand in attention to Brighton’s Mayor.”
Dustin looked around and then pushed himself to his feet. Levi, the police officers, Brighton locals, the strangers followed until all were standing. Harper sniffled.
James approached the podium and outstretched his hand. Harper took it. They pressed close, locking eyes. “Whatever happens,” her husband whispered. “I love you.”
Harper kissed him. “Let’s get our son back.”
The crowd cheered…
Then set out for war.
Chapter Nine
Burning Rain
The towering, striped chimney of Bimberg jutted into the starry night. Storms clouds crept toward the factory like the outstretched hand of Death himself. The wind whipped and howled, broken by the ridges and stature of the surrounding mountains.
Tents of all sizes, shapes, and colors curled around the old but resistant building in an untamed but massive artificial sprawl. Flaming teepees reflected on the mud of the boot-worn trails. The path awkwardly snaked between pavilions and camping gear, eventually ending at Bimberg’s rusty front doors. Tattered-dressed addicts indulged in their nocturnal vices-- heroin, cocaine, and any pharmaceutical retrieved from nearby towns or police evidence lockers. In small groups, the residents slouched on lawn chairs or long stools near water-warped picnic tables.
Speckled throughout the settlement, gaggles of chatty guards patrolled, occasionally unzipping darkened tents to spy on the sleeping residents within. More armed men paced around the factory’s exterior walkway. Their shoes clacked on the rusty grated metal. Just above their heads and akin to a lighthouse lens room, the wide, third-story factory window cast its bright glow. The golden torchlight within lured hopeless wanderers into Bimberg like moths to a flame.
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