The Abandon Series | Book 3 | These Times of Cessation

by Schow, Ryan

  Blinking back the tears, she heard nothing, and all she saw was the freedom that awaited her in the lovely skies above.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Colt McDaniel

  Colt and Faith made their way up to Columbus in surprisingly good time. Colt’s face felt a bit better now that the blood had dried. Initially Faith had said that it looked like he’d lost a lot of blood, but in reality, he said it wasn’t as much as he had feared it could have been. Fortunately, they didn’t run into any significant problems. Then again, they weren’t crossing any more bridges and they’d kept their distance from the main metropolises.

  Several times, as they cruised along, they had to pull their guns on people. The look in Faith’s eyes, Colt’s bloody face, and the threat of drawn weapons was more than enough for them to keep moving unimpeded.

  Along the way, Colt expected minor problems here and there, but they didn’t expect to be encouraged by what they would see. That changed in Jeffersonville, Ohio.

  Colt was forced to slow for a spot of congestion while on an I-71 overpass looking over SR-435/Old US-35. Next to the McDonalds restaurant was what appeared to be the sight of a grisly massacre. Dead HR were everywhere.

  “Seeing this warms my heart,” Colt said over the rumbling of the motorcycle. With a fist, he lightly pounded the bike’s handlebars, the smile on his face stiff, but there. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

  He hadn’t been talking about anything, but he knew Faith understood the expression. America was finally standing up to these maggots.

  “My God,” Faith said as she looked at the various lampposts hanging over the street below.

  “Yeah, I saw that,” he said. “This is what makes me happy.”

  The sight of so many dead HR wasn’t the best thing, or even the most disturbing thing, they were looking at. Hanging by their ankles from the lampposts were dead men and women, all of them stripped naked. Even worse—or better, depending on your perspective—their heads had been cut off.

  “That’s a good thing, right?” Faith asked.

  “Damn right it is. It’s unsettling for sure, but whoever did this is taking a page out of the cartel’s playbook.”

  “I never thought I’d see that in America.”

  He agreed. “It’s brutal, but necessary. Fear is a great motivator, and in this case, it might be the best motivator.”

  “I can’t imagine cutting someone’s head off.”

  “If they killed one of the kids,” he asked, “would that be so hard to imagine?”

  She wrapped her arms around him and leaned forward, resting her head on his back. “Let’s just hope that’s not the case.”

  He shut off the motorcycle, flipped the kickstand, then got off and stretched. When he turned to ask her something, he saw that she had started crying.

  “What?” he asked.

  “What do you think?” she replied, louder than expected.

  Leighton.

  “If I worry about where she is or what she’s doing,” he said, “or even what might have happened to her, I will completely seize.”

  She wiped her eyes, but the dam had broken, causing her tears to stream endlessly.

  “Get off that thing and stretch your back and legs. You’ll feel better.”

  Faith got off the bike and walked into his arms, hugging him like she hadn’t hugged him in years. She let out her emotions, while he bit back on his. Instead, he focused on his face, how the riotous pain kept his anger fresh and on tap. It also kept the beast close, just in case. But then he remembered that there was no disembodied creature inside of him anymore. He and the creature were now one unique animal.

  “We have three kids,” he said, “but they’re all strong, capable adults.”

  “I know,” she said softly. “But we’re strong and capable and we almost died back on that bridge. And we can’t even get to Marley in D.C. It’s too far for us.”

  “We didn’t almost die,” he said. “And Marley will either make it home or I’ll go get her myself.”

  “It could have gone a different way,” she said, pulling back to look at the streak of read across his cheek. “If that bullet was two inches to the left, you wouldn’t be here with me.”

  “But it wasn’t.”

  “I know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think about it. I’d be out here on my own. I don’t know how to drive a motorcycle, shoot like you, or fight like you.”

  “You’re a McDaniel,” he said. “You’d find a way.”

  “I’m a McDaniel in name only. I don’t have that thing you have in your bloodline. Whatever fight I have in me is there because of you. But what you have has always been in you. It’s in your DNA. You were born this way.”

  “Let’s get some gas, and then go get Rowan,” he said, seeing she was doing better.

  “I don’t want you to dismiss this,” she said.

  “I’m not,” he replied. “It scares me, too.”

  From a nearby car, he siphoned some gas into the motorcycle’s tank, then screwed the fuel lid back on and fired up the engine.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  Without a word, Faith hopped on the bike and slid her arms around Colt’s waist.

  The second sign that things were going to be okay came just a few miles outside of Columbus proper. They ran into a pack of men fanned out all over the interstate. The situation looked untenable at first, but the closer they got, the more it seemed they would be alright.

  “Do you see those guys in the minivan,” Faith said in his ear. She extended her arm just past him, pointing to two guys coming out of a Chrysler Town & Country.

  “Yeah, I see them,” he replied.

  Dusk was finally upon them, which made things dangerous, but the way these guys were moving wasn’t as concerning to Colt as he thought it should be.

  “What do you think?” he asked Faith.

  “They’ve seen us,” she said, “but they’re not posturing up.”

  “That’s because there are only two of us and we don’t look like your typical HR dirtbags,” he said.

  “Should we turn around?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure yet,” he said, slowing the bike to a crawl.

  “What do your instincts tell you?” she asked.

  He took a breath, then sped up a little. “I feel like we’ll be okay.”

  Ahead, a dozen guys were going through cars and trucks all over the highway. There was an organizational element to the group that wasn’t manic or overly aggressive, which was what gave Colt pause. He had the distinct impression these weren’t desperate people in survival mode, rather they looked like they were well-fed men running a coordinated op, one where they were cleaning out all the cars on the highway as a team.

  He kept waiting for his Spidey senses to tingle, but they never did. He knew he was taking a chance in moving forward, but there was no way to go but back from where they came. He wasn’t going to do that. And he wasn’t going to risk cutting through neighborhoods or backroads that he knew nothing about.

  “Get the gun ready,” he said to Faith.

  They crept up to a group of three guys who looked like they were in charge. As a trio, they all stopped what they were doing and casually looked up at Colt and Faith. To the right of them, in a group of cars, Colt saw a man pull out a snub-nosed pistol. His heart rate quickly elevated, but he didn’t let it show.

  Twenty feet from them, one of the three in charge—a tall blond-haired kid with easy eyes and a cool disposition—showed Colt and Faith his gun. In response, Faith showed them hers. She hadn’t pointed it at them. She had the good sense to raise it in the air to show them she had it. The blond put his free hand up while slowly putting his gun away. Faith gave him the thumbs-up, and put her gun away, too.

  “I think we’re good,” Colt said, “but be ready.”

  “I’m ready right now.”

  The five of them met up and everyone was cordial, which—based on everything else that had happened recent
ly—was a welcomed surprise. He looked over at the guy with the snub-nosed pistol

  “How are you both doing?” the blond-haired kid asked, hesitant as he studied Colt’s bloody face.

  “We’ve seen some tough times,” Colt said, “as I’m sure you can tell.”

  “Hayseed Rebellion?” he asked.

  Colt nodded.

  One of the guys handed Faith a protein bar and a bottled water. He was a nerdy guy with a bad haircut but a good beard to make up for it.

  The blond turned to his goofy associate and said, “He’s not as pretty as she is, but don’t show favoritism when we have more than enough for them both.”

  The guy frowned, then handed Colt a bar and a water bottle. “I appreciate it,” Colt said, unscrewing the plastic lid.

  “Hang on,” the blond guy said.

  He jogged to a gathering of several wagons and went through the loot they’d collected. To Colt, it was almost as if he was looking for something in particular. He pulled a small red First Aid kit from the loot pile, smiled, then brought it back to Colt.

  “Maybe there’s some stuff in here to hold you over for a minute, or perhaps you can fix that up completely,” the blond said about Colt’s face.

  He handed Colt the kit; Colt took it gratefully.

  “We’ve had lots of surprises throughout the day, but this is a good one,” Faith said. “So, thank you.”

  “It’s gonna be dark really soon,” he said. “You don’t want to be out too late.”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more,” Colt said.

  “Where are you headed?”

  “We’re trying to find our son,” Faith said. “He lives outside of Columbus with his pregnant fiancée. I don’t think their home is too far from here.”

  “You’re not that far out from Columbus, but the going’s gonna be a bit slow. Lots of cars stacked up, so it’ll be like riding through a maze.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up,” Colt said, his face starting to hurt with all this talking.

  The blond pulled out a two-way and keyed the mic. “Hey, we got two people coming through on an old motorcycle. Let ‘em pass if you would.”

  He depressed the button.

  “I don’t know, man,” the voice said on the other end. “It might spook a few of the guys.”

  He looked at Faith, then Colt, and then he said, “One of them is a gorgeous blond. So I think they’ll be more delighted than scared or confused.”

  Colt wasn’t sure what to make of the conversation, but he didn’t get the feeling that they were setting up an ambush or talking in code.

  The voice on the other end of the two-way said, “Sounds good, send ‘em through.”

  “Good luck, folks,” the blond turned and said.

  Before he left, Colt asked, “How far up have you guys gone?”

  “It’s not bad up there if you’re talking about people. We’ve cleaned out most of the cars for a few miles, so it’s not really drawing anyone. We left a lot of open doors and broken windows, if you catch my drift. As for the neighborhoods, stay out of them if you can.”

  Colt nodded and thanked the him. The guy who had handed out the bars and the water couldn’t take his eyes off Faith. Inside, Colt felt a swell of pride for his wife. She definitely had that effect on people. He would have grinned had it not hurt his face so much.

  They were able to get through the civilized looters without incident, which allowed him to breathe easier. He had a short spike of paranoia, fueled by the darkening skies but, thankfully, it passed.

  Night fell, along with the temperature. It was eerie traveling in such absolute darkness. He had never felt so vulnerable in his life. The entire night held the possibility of an ambush, the unknown so vast you could damn near scare yourself into a coma if you weren’t careful. If he felt this way, he knew Faith would be feeling it, too. Perhaps that was why she had snuggled up against his back so tightly.

  The next few miles were slow going, but steady. When they finally reached exit 100 leading to Stringtown Road/Grove City, they exited the highway. Colt prayed they wouldn’t run into trouble, but the unruly engine was noisy as hell, a signal beacon for scumbags and opportunists.

  At the first intersection, they saw a big bonfire and a group of people mingling. Some of these folks looked like they were laughing and kicking back with a few warm beers. But a few of them were yelling at each other like they were having a squabble.

  Everyone stopped and looked at the two of them riding by. There were a dozen or more faces illuminated by firelight, all of them just staring. Then, one of the boys started walking toward them. This was the one Colt had seen yelling. He suddenly broke into a sprint, coming after them fast. Colt put on a burst of speed while Faith brought out the gun. The kid stopped running, then gave them the bird.

  Colt took the first right on Parkway Centre Drive, catching sight of a looted pet store in the dull, amber wash of his motorcycle’s headlight. Their destination lay in the neighborhood ahead. This was the gated community where Rowan and Constanza had recently purchased their home.

  When they arrived, they saw that the front gates looked hammered, like someone had tried to ram a car through them and failed. The gates were still standing, which was encouraging. Turning the bike’s handlebars, he inched them up to an opening between the gate’s support pillars and a decorative stone wall. Judging by the opening, he felt like there was enough room to edge the bike through. The closer he got, the more he was convinced they would make it.

  “It’s going to be tight,” Colt said told Faith. “But I think we can make it.”

  He felt her squeeze in.

  With inches to spare, they made it through.

  Cruising slowly through the streets, the engine sounded louder than ever as it echoed off the houses. If anyone was home, they would have had them coming. They continued to Park Centre where he took a left and then a right.

  He parked in front of Rowan’s and Constanza’s house, shut off the engine, then got off the bike and shook the stiffness from his muscles. If not for the moon coming out behind the clouds, he might not have seen his own wife. She was only a foot away, but the dark was thick and unrelenting.

  “Help, please?” Faith said, reaching out and finding his arm. Colt took her hand and she pulled herself up off the bike. “I think my ass fell asleep and put my legs to bed, too.”

  “All I feel is my face,” he said, which was as close to a complaint as he’d allow himself to come.

  “I can’t believe we actually made it,” she said.

  “Had we left a few days ago,” he said, “we might not have made it.”

  They made their way through the dark to the front door. Colt knocked, then listened. No one answered the door, or even spoke to them from the other side. If no one answered, did this mean they were gone? Or in trouble perhaps?

  He already felt his emotions rising, which meant Faith would be fearing the worst as well.

  He already felt his emotions rising, which meant Faith would be fearing the worst as well. To not find Leighton at either NKU or Niles’s house was devastating. If they failed to find Rowan or Constanza as well? Colt wasn’t sure how well Faith would feel. Hell, he didn’t know how he’d feel about it.

  He knocked on the door and waited. There was no reply. He pressed an ear against the door, trying to listen inside. When all he heard was silence, he reached down and tried the door knob. The door was unlocked and slightly pushed in, as if it was damaged. He ran his fingers over the casing, several of them catching on various splits in the wood. Had someone broken in?

  Slowly, cautiously, he opened the door and went inside. At that very moment, he thought he heard movement behind the door. Acting on instinct, he rammed his shoulder into the door, slamming it into whoever was on the other side. Behind the door, he heard someone squeak. A woman.

  “Constanza?” he asked into the darkness.

  “Colt, is that her?” Faith asked. Then: “Is that you, Constanza?”

&n
bsp; “Colt?” the female voice asked. “Faith?”

  “It’s us, Constanza,” he replied, relieved. “It’s Colt and Faith.”

  He heard something that sounded like a knife clattering to the floor, and then he felt a pair of hands grab his arm and his shirt.

  Constanza asked, “Is that really you, Mr. McDaniel?”

  “Faith, too,” Colt answered.

  “Oh, thank God,” Constanza replied.

  “Are you okay?” Faith asked. “Is Rowan here with you?”

  “Hold on,” Constanza said, her voice filled with emotion. “Shut that door, please.”

  The girl moved in through the darkness, flicked a lighter, then lit a candle. The first thing Colt noticed was that her belly had flattened.

  “Constanza, are you okay?” Faith asked as she went to her.

  The Latina beauty grabbed Faith into the biggest hug, holding onto her for dear life. She started crying almost instantly and didn’t stop for a few minutes. By then, Colt started to fear the worst.

  “What happened to your face?” she asked, looking up at Colt.

  “I was shot, where’s your belly?”

  This question sent her into another fit of tears, one so bad she couldn’t even speak. The longer she was unable to answer, the more fear Colt felt pumping into his heart.

  Faith rubbed the girl’s back and said, “Everything’s going to be okay, sweetie. Just breathe, try to fill yourself with calming energy.”

  This seemed to take, but when Constanza could finally speak, she dropped a bomb on them. “I went into labor on the freeway. Some lady helped me deliver Rose, a homeless woman who used to be a mid-wife. Then she…she…she took the baby.”

  Colt felt his emotions bottom out.

  First Leighton, now Rose?

  “I tracked the woman down, but then…then she attacked me and kicked my face so hard, she knocked me out. I don’t know where she is now.”

  In the low candlelight, he could see the horror on Faith’s face.

  “We have to find her,” Colt said.