Sanctuary Breached WITSEC Town Series Book 3

by Lisa Phillips

  The town residents didn’t settle down. A few of the children were crying. But no one should face death unaware.

  Dan Walden, the farmer and defacto pastor since Father Wilson had tried to kill everyone, walked over. “How about we all pray, okay?”

  Dan bowed his head. Everyone went quiet aside from the odd sniffle. As the farmer asked God for protection, Bolton felt someone shift beside him. He cracked his eyes open just as Nadia Marie slipped her arm under his and around his back. Thankfully she kept it loose, or he’d have had to step away. But then again, she’d already seen his scars.

  Nadia shut her eyes and rested her face against his chest. Bolton froze. No one had touched him like this in…far too long. He wanted to shove her away. If Shadrach didn’t make it, Nadia had plenty of friends who would help her through it. She wouldn’t need him.

  But he didn’t move.

  “Amen.”

  **

  Shadrach set the suitcase down in the cave. The last light switched from green to red and began to flash.

  He raced back down the tunnel, his arms and legs pumping at his sides.

  The sky was blinding bright when he emerged.

  As he ran down the mountain, the ground began to rumble like a great beast awakening. A mile and a half down at the bottom of the hill was the ranch house. The ground shook.

  Pebbles bounced against the ground. Trees quivered. Boulders began to roll down the hill.

  The boom burst from the mouth of the cave to shatter the silence as it echoed past Shadrach. His ears burst. A rush of wind pushed him forward as the ground rolled like a mighty wave that heaved itself down the mountain.

  He glanced back, still running.

  The mountain churned toward him.

  Chapter 24

  Sam and John turned at the same time. The mountain shuddered as a boom ricocheted from the hill south of the ranch, across the basin to the other side and back. The whole town groaned as though in one instant it might sink into the earth.

  Sam held his breath.

  “Radios are dead.”

  Where the noise originated, half the mountain slipped from its place and collapsed down the hill. Trees were swept away. A yawning hole opened in the side of the mountain. Like an avalanche of dirt, the mountain tumbled down…toward the ranch.

  Ground overtook ground like a child rolling down a hill. It tumbled, moving faster and faster. Sam could barely breathe. Would it ever stop? The wide expanse of the ranch was about to be buried under the mountain.

  Beth.

  He turned to John. “You think it will reach the ranch house?”

  The sheriff pressed his lips together. He dug in his pocket. “Take the Jeep.”

  Sam ran between two store fronts on Main Street to the rear entrance where the sheriff parked. Footsteps paced him, lighter steps. He stopped at the vehicle. There was no time for this. “You aren’t coming with me, Remy.”

  Tears tracked down her face. “Shadrach was in there.”

  Sam seriously doubted the man got out, but at the same time he comprehended a blossoming respect in his chest for Shadrach’s actions. He might have saved them all.

  Remy got in the car. Sam climbed in the driver’s side and fired it up.

  Seated beside him, she tapped her fingers on her leg. Sam pressed his foot to the floor. Lord, don’t let that debris reach the ranch house. Keep them safe. Keep everyone safe. He had no idea where Bolton’s small herd of cattle was, but he said a prayer for them, too. A living creature was a living creature, and God cared about them all.

  “He got out. He had to.” Remy shifted, and her hand fisted on her leg. “He can’t be dead. I won’t accept that. Shadrach is better than this.”

  “Better than saving hundreds of people?”

  She shot hard eyes at him. “He’s not dead!”

  “We won’t know for sure until we find…” His body. “…him. Until then we have to pray he’s all right. But Remy, you have to understand. For a man like Shadrach there is no better way to spend your life than by saving someone else’s. That’s who he is. Greater love has no man than this; to lay down his life for his friend.”

  “They’re not his friends,” she spat. “I am. I’m the one who—”

  “What about his sister? You think he didn’t want to live for both of you, to spend his life happy and loved?” Sam pushed out a breath.

  The mountain raced closer. Even if he got ahead of it, he’d never be able to stop it. The destruction was done before it ever started.

  “Whatever the outcome, you have to accept it. Otherwise you don’t love him as much as you thought you did.”

  “You don’t know anything.”

  Being angry that Shadrach had done the honorable thing was only selfish. She had to know that. She was smart enough, but then she’d never been smart with her emotions. She was entitled to grieve but being angry was only going to birth a seed of bitterness in her that would have to be dug out—something far more painful than waking every day with loss.

  He’d lost far too many brothers in what seemed like such a senseless war to not have learned a thing or two about anger. It tore up a person from the inside until all they knew was that twisting, gnawing feeling of being ripped apart.

  Sam sighed. “Let’s just try and find him.”

  “What are you going to do if that hits the ranch house?”

  He shook his head and keyed his radio. “Beth? Hal? Can anyone hear me?”

  It was like John had said: the radios were down. Sam threw it on the dash and heard a satisfying crack of plastic. “We need to contact that chopper, get Ben Mason on the line. We need help.”

  “We’re supposed to be self-sufficient, remember?” Her voice was sardonic. Something had cracked inside Remy, and he doubted it would ever be repaired. This was a turning point for her—he could see it in her entire demeanor. She’d always been so self-assured, or at least proud of who she was and what she could do. There had to be some pride involved when you could do anything you decided to achieve.

  He turned the wheel and they bumped across the grass.

  The wave of dirt and debris had come in like a tide across the ranch, the heli-pad and the road. It was still coming, moving like a wave of flood water toward the house.

  Sam gunned the engine.

  “Stay close. We might need a doctor.” Sam parked behind the ranch house. He didn’t wait for Remy, only raced inside.

  “Beth!” She wouldn’t hear him until the door opened, but Sam yelled anyway. He flung the basement door wide and hit the steps. The house trembled, yawned. Walls cracked. The sound was like thunder as the house twisted and ripped apart like a tornado had struck the town.

  With the door in sight, he scrambled down the steps. Two. Three. His leg screamed in pain.

  The house lifted from the ground. Drywall slammed into him. The steps curled like a towel being wrung out. Sam was flung sideways, sandwiched between the walls as the house was swept away.

  “Beth!”

  His head slammed something and the world went black.

  **

  “Get to a doorway.”

  Beth rushed toward the door to the bathroom. Sam Tura crowded himself against her. The other men huddled by the couch, Hal under the table.

  Dust fell from the ceiling. A crack worked its way down one wall.

  Beth gripped Tura’s sleeve and looked up into the big man’s chocolate colored eyes. He’d known pain before in his life, that much was evident from the long stretches of silence she’d endured being around him. What she hadn’t done is dared break them. Disturbing him from wherever his thoughts drifted to seemed almost callous.

  The floor beneath them shifted. She gripped Tura’s sleeve.

  His gaze bored into hers. “Don’t lose faith now.”

  “Something happened. It feels like an earthquake.” She’d been in California once to meet Sam, and there’d been a small quake. For an East Coast girl it was more nerve wracking than opening night, wonderi
ng if the hotel was going to fall down. She gasped. “What if we die down here?”

  “Don’t.” Tura gave her a short nod. He held the frames of the bathroom door like Atlas, holding up the world. “Don’t lose faith.”

  Beth glanced aside. Sam.

  She barely got the thought out when it hit the house above them in full force. She screamed as the room twisted around. Beth prayed for her husband and her baby. Only God could help them now.

  An awful roar began. It grew bigger as the room caved in. The ceiling rained down into the room. Huge chunks of wall. Dust everywhere. Beth squeezed her eyes shut. She could hear the guys yell over the noise, but not what they said. Tura grunted and pulled away from her.

  Beth gripped harder. Her eyes flew open. “Don’t.”

  The room swept toward them and slammed into the back of Tura. He held her against him. Beth screamed. They were going to be crushed.

  God, help us!

  **

  Remy froze on the edge of the wave while the ranch house swept away. Beth. Sam. They were all the family she had, and they were gone. No, they couldn’t be.

  Dust swirled in the air.

  The wave of dirt slowed and stopped, half covering the spot where the house had been. Remy ran to the barn to find a shovel or something. If anyone was still alive under there she had to get them out.

  No one was coming from the town. They would eventually, but right now she was the only one here. The barn door was heavy, but she hauled it open. The shovel probably weighed twenty pounds, but she raced back to the house, calculating from the corner where the structure had been to where the door to the basement would be. Remy paced the distance and pushed the shovel into earth.

  Wherever Shadrach was, he was alone.

  Despite what Sam thought, she understood the concept of the greater good. It was why she was trying to dig out six people—and him—instead of racing around the mountain searching for the man she...

  A sob worked its way up to emerge from her throat. Hot tears tracked down her face as she shoveled dirt aside.

  Heavy dirt. She calculated the volume to figure out how heavy it would be. The basement of the ranch house had been about as well constructed as the house—which now lay in a heap fifteen feet away.

  Would she find Sam down at the basement door, or was he in the mangled building?

  Was anyone who had been in the basement still alive?

  Did she want to know?

  Remy was no first responder, but she dug down. The pile of dirt grew bigger as she hauled and tossed it out of the way. She did care about these people, despite the fact everyone thought her basically heartless.

  She didn’t find Sam.

  Remy stopped. Sweat poured down her back under the cotton shirt. Her hair was damp, her fingers slick on the shovel so the blisters on her hands stung.

  The ranch house lay still. If Sam was okay, he’d have pried his way out by now.

  Remy kept digging, but she didn’t find him. Remy pulled away a splintered piece of wood. Below it was mangled metal and wood. Where was the safe room?

  “Can anyone hear me?” She yelled until her voice grew hoarse.

  Please don’t be dead.

  Beth. The baby. Hal. Sam Tura and all the guys.

  “Anyone! Hello!”

  She couldn’t do this by herself. She wasn’t going to be able to pull them all out.

  Remy collapsed to her knees in the hole she’d dug.

  **

  John flung the sheriff’s office open. The ground shook, and he gripped the door frame. It felt like the town was tearing itself apart. As though the mountains were trying to eject them from intruding on their space.

  The men on the roof of the Meeting House were out of sight. Had they gone down to see to the people? He had to get to the ranch and make sure everyone was okay, but first he had to ensure the prisoner was secure and then check on Andra.

  Once the ground stopped shaking he’d be able to assess the damage and keep trying to re-connect with Grant. They needed help. They would likely need medical personnel flown in, and residents flown out for emergency treatment. It had happened before, when the medical center had been blown up. But then he’d just called the Air Force from his phone.

  Now they were completely cut off.

  Tommy had to know what he’d done. He had to see the destruction with his own eyes. John was going to make sure the man understood just what he’d put this town through. A man with children had to understand he’d put innocents in danger.

  God, please don’t let anyone die. Please let that helicopter have seen the explosion. Please let Grant get the phones back on. Something…anything that will help us.

  This could so easily end in complete disaster.

  John stepped into the sheriff’s office.

  The cell door was open. It hung askew, broken open and wrenched aside.

  Where was—

  A solid body slammed into him.

  John went flying across the floor. He slid until his back hit the waiting area chairs. Tommy’s fist slammed into his face. It dazed him for a second. John brought up his legs and flung the man toward the chairs. His fist came up at the right moment and slammed into Tommy’s stomach hard enough to wind him.

  Breath expelled from the man’s mouth. John scrambled out from under him, his back awash in pain. He reached for his gun, but there was nothing in his holster.

  Tommy whipped around, arm extended.

  John grabbed the closest chair and flung it at him.

  The gunshot went wide. Tommy cried out, and John jumped on him. He punched and kicked the SEAL. Sam had taught him some moves they used, the ones Tommy knew in particular. Thank you, Lord. But the big man was strong, and he punched like a truck.

  Tommy’s fist caught low on his ribs. John grunted and returned his punch. The ground shook again, and both of them almost lost their balance. Tommy grabbed John around the head. The floor shook with yet more aftershocks. What was happening to the mountain? They fell to the ground, John busting his head on the tile floor. The world spun, or was that just the ground moving so much?

  Tommy grabbed his head and slammed it against the floor again.

  John punched him in the mouth.

  Tommy gritted his bloody teeth. He reached up on the desk, and his hand came back with a metal letter opener. Tommy morphed into two men then back into one as the world circled around John. He grabbed for Tommy’s hand, his aim wide. He swung back as Tommy brought the letter opener down, and he managed to whack Tommy’s forearm. The letter opener slammed into John’s chest.

  He gasped.

  Tommy jumped up, spat blood on the floor, and left.

  **

  “Let me out. I won’t die down here.”

  Bolton shoved the man back. He wasn’t the door monitor, but who knew what would happen if everyone ran outside. Eventually he was going to let them out but not until the shaking stopped.

  Nadia Marie huddled with Andra. The rest of the people clung together in groups. Families.

  “Let us out.” Andy stood, looking pale. Bolton had heard how he’d stolen Sean’s gun and tried to get between Nadia and her brother.

  “Not until I know it’s clear.”

  An elderly man stood. “This place is as old as me!”

  Someone else. “It’ll come down.”

  The room shuddered. People screamed. Bolton lifted his hands, hardly qualified to play the diplomat. Give him a gun and a target any day—or a heifer, struggling to give birth. People had never been his strong point.

  “Sit down. Calm down. Everyone shut up until the shaking stops, and then I’ll check. If it’s clear, you can head outside.”

  He didn’t give anyone room to argue. He pinned each one with a stare.

  They sat, except for Andy. One glance at Nadia and he looked back at Bolton. “I’m leaving now. I won’t die down here when the building collapses on us.”

  Bolton wasn’t entirely sure of its structural integrity, either.
But that didn’t mean he was going to freak out and let them all outside. They would scatter, and then he and John would spend the rest of the week looking for missing people only to find they were staying with their friends or neighbors and not lost and bleeding in the woods.

  Although if he was lucky, maybe Andy would go out like that.

  Easily. Quietly.

  At least no one would be able to hear him.

  Nadia paced to him. “Have you heard anything from up there?”

  Bolton shook his head. “The radios aren’t working.”

  “Oh,” Andy said. “So you don’t even know if anyone is left up there!”

  Pat Mason whimpered. Andra hugged him closer to her.

  Bolton got in Andy’s face. “You’re scaring little kids.”

  Andy shoved him back. “You think I care?”

  “I think you’re going to sit your tubby backside down before I sit you down myself.”

  Andra’s lips twitched, and her gaze moved to Nadia beside him, which meant Nadia’s were also twitching. Great, now they thought he was a joke. “Sit down, Andy. Now.”

  Andy folded his wobbly arms. The skin on his pasty face was clammy. He really thought he could compete for Nadia? That a woman more beautiful than a catwalk model would look twice at him? He was seriously kidding himself.

  Andy’s eyes narrowed.

  Yeah, so Bolton wouldn’t mind winning her for himself—if it wasn’t a basically pointless endeavor. A guy like him could never make her happy, probably even less so than Andy, if Bolton was willing to admit that to himself. Which was why he didn’t dwell on it for long.

  Nadia reached up and curled her arms around Bolton’s bicep. “Sit down, Andy.”

  “I want out of here.” Andy’s lip curled, his eyes on Nadia. “I can’t even look at you, turning your attentions to whatever man is closest to you at the time. Did what we had mean absolutely nothing to you? Is that it?”