Winter Igniting

by Rebecca Zanetti

  Marcus flashed his light over it. “This had to take some time.”

  And somebody very familiar with the interior of the territory drew it. Even the buildings were listed with who lived or worked where. Labeled with neat and scratchy lines. Damon’s gut rolled over. “I know that handwriting.”

  Jax’s eyebrows rose. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. That’s Pastor King’s handwriting. Psychotic and neat. The As are weird.”

  Jax’s jaw hardened. He looked around and then focused on the map. Fury flashed across his face. “There was nobody here waiting for us, Damon.”

  The truth hit Damon harder than the blast had.

  Holy shit. The bomb had definitely been a trap, but it was more of a diversion. He pulled Greyson to his feet. “They waited for us to leave.” Vanguard territory had been attacked before, but this time was different. Very. “Somehow, they’re on the inside.”

  Oh, God. They had to get back in time.

  April hadn’t been able to sleep all night and finally gave up the fight, working all morning with the kids before heading back to her apartment around lunchtime. She rubbed her chilled arms and watched the storm continue unabated outside. There was no rain. Only fierce and jagged lightning strikes followed by furious thunder.

  Where was Damon? Was he okay? They should be raiding right at that second after traveling all night.

  She sat at her table and planted her face in her hands. Why hadn’t she told him how she felt? It wouldn’t change whatever happened during the attack on the Bunker, but at least he’d know. She took the exquisite ring out of her pocket and slid it onto her left ring finger. It fit perfectly.

  He hadn’t asked. But he’d wanted to say the words to her.

  And she hadn’t let him.

  Man, she sucked. What was she so afraid of? Losing everything? She’d already done that, and here she was. Still standing. Or sitting, as it were. Her heart hurt for him, and fear made breathing difficult.

  But she should’ve given him the words.

  A knock on the door had her looking up. “Come in.”

  Sharon opened the door and slid inside, her eyes over-bright and her cheeks the color of ripe tomatoes. “We’ve been drinking mimosas all morning before the bridge tournament. I made a break for it.” She snorted and then hiccupped.

  April gaped. It was just past noon. “You’ve left the church again. That’s twice.” The woman had seemed like a total germaphobe. Just how drunk was she?

  Sharon stumbled inside to draw out a chair. “I know, right?” She giggled.

  April would not have pegged the serious Sharon for a giggler. “How did you get out?”

  “We’re free to come and go if we want, you know. And I was here before.” Sharon rolled her eyes.

  Oh, yeah. “I don’t suppose you’ve brought any of what you’ve been drinking?” She could seriously use a snort or two. When was the last time she’d had a mimosa?

  “No, but I’m here to bring you back. Janet passed out, and we need somebody in her chair to start the tournament.” Sharon grinned. “You missed Bunko last night, and it was fun. I’m sure the kids here are fine for a while. So let’s do this.”

  The invite was a sweet one. April patted Sharon’s hand. “I appreciate it, but I’ll have to take a raincheck this time. Definitely next time, though.”

  Sharon wove on the chair and frowned. “Why? Come on. I mean, why?”

  Because she’d promised Damon, and her word mattered. April just smiled. “I have a lot to do today. But I definitely want to play next time.” And have some of whatever Sharon had been drinking.

  Sharon pursed her lips. “I was also hoping you’d take a look at Bobby.”

  April ran through the kids in her head. “The little, redheaded kid?” He had to be around four years old, maybe five.

  “Yeah. He’s running a fever, and I don’t know what’s happening. You have more experience with kids than most of us.” Sharon gestured for the door. “What do you say?”

  April paused, torn. If there were a sick child, then she wanted to help. But she had made a promise to Damon, and everything inside her wanted to keep that. “If we have an ill child, we need the doctor. Let’s go get Doc Penelope and see what she thinks.”

  “No. Just you. No Penelope,” Sharon said, pressing her lips together.

  April studied the blonde. If anybody wanted to get her to the Pure, saying there was a sick kid would do it. As well as an invite for fun and alcohol. She didn’t want to be suspicious, and she certainly hated skirting the line of paranoia, but something felt off. “I don’t think so,” she murmured.

  Sharon threw up her hands. “Why are you being so difficult?”

  April leaned in. “Why are you insisting so hard? What’s really going on?”

  Sharon huffed and stared at her. “The pastor would really like to see you.”

  Now they were getting somewhere. “So he sent you out here, in the germ-filled, bacteria-esque world to lie to me?” Anger stirred as well as warning inside April.

  “Please. Don’t be so dr-dramatic.” Sharon hiccupped again. “We have champagne. The good stuff.”

  “Tempting, but no.” April pushed her chair away from the table and stood. “I think you should go back to the pastor and tell him to be honest next time.” What in the world was really going on? Man, she wished Damon were there. If nothing else, she was going to keep her word to him until he returned. She’d promised. Plus, something felt off. She was too smart to walk into a trap.

  “Fine.” Sharon stormed to her feet and stumbled toward the door.

  April fought a grin. The woman really was sloshed. She followed and opened the door to help her through as well as point out the right direction to the Pure apartment building.

  “Hello.” A man shoved inside, pushing April back three steps.

  She blinked and then recognized that Jerome guy from inside the Pure. Going on instinct, she turned and started to bolt.

  He grabbed her around the waist from behind and slapped a hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming. Fear swamped her, and she kicked, struggling to free herself. He pressed harder, hurting her jaw. She whimpered and tried to scream behind his hold, but he muffled her voice well.

  Sharon backed away, her eyes wide. “Jerome? What are you doing?”

  April punched back as hard as she could, and he released her, instantly wrapping an arm across both of hers and her waist, partially lifting her off the ground. His body was lean and hard behind her.

  She breathed out over his hand, trying to focus. Blood rushed through her head, ringing loudly in her ears.

  Sharon held up both hands. Bewilderment crossed her rosy face. “Stop this. I said I’d help get her there, but this is going too far. Let her go.” Her voice slurred.

  What the hell? April nodded in agreement. She needed to get free.

  Jerome sighed, his breath stirring her hair. “Sharon, pull it together, or you’re out of the Pure.”

  Sharon’s bloodshot eyes widened. “But—”

  “But, nothing,” he snapped. “The storm is keeping everybody indoors. We have a small window to get her to the apartment building between patrols.” His mouth lowered to April’s ear. “They’re like clockwork, and this has to be timed perfectly.”

  She shivered. If they thought she was going quietly, they were freaking crazy.

  “Now, I’m going to remove my hand, and if you scream, I’ll choke you out.” He moved his hand.

  Her mind reeled. If she screamed, who would hear? The kids? Atticus was up with the older kids right now and might not hear her. But what were her other options? Before she could make up her mind, Jerome had retrieved a knife from somewhere. He held it up in front of her eyes. “Do I have your attention?”

  She stopped struggling against him.

  “Good.” His hold loosened enough that she could breathe again. “If you fight me, I’m going to gut Sharon like a fish.”

  Sharon gasped and shrank against the
peeling wall.

  “Go ahead,” April snapped. She was done with these people. Period.

  Jerome chuckled. “I like you. Okay, no gutting Sharon. I guess there’s only one way to go here.” He moved, something shifted, and then pain exploded in April’s head.

  She went down, unconscious before she hit the floor.

  43

  Turns out I’m more of a fighter than I realized.

  —April Snyder, Journal

  April came to and instantly recognized Pastor King’s basement office. She lay on the sofa, her head on a soft pillow. Gasping, she sat up. Pain blasted through her brain. She cried out and closed her eyes for a second. The world spun, and she quickly opened her eyes again.

  She and King were alone in the quiet space.

  King turned in his leather chair at his desk and tossed her a bottle. “Aspirin.”

  She took two and swallowed them without liquid. Ouch. “What’s happening?” she croaked.

  His eyebrows rose. “Jerome hit you on the head to get you here. I had hoped such measures wouldn’t be necessary.”

  Oh, man. Her gaze caught on the breeding chart still visible. Why did they want her so badly?

  King snorted. “Don’t be silly.”

  Relief somewhat calmed her. “Why did you kidnap me?”

  “Kidnapping involves transport between state lines, right?” He looked like the boy next door in his jeans and dark T-shirt, his green eyes twinkling. “We have no states any longer.”

  There had to be some sort of weapon she could use. The guy probably didn’t need a letter opener these days. Was there a pen near his hand? “Damon is going to kill you.” If April didn’t figure out how first.

  “Now that might be a problem,” King said. “I’m pretty sure Damon was blown up earlier this morning. The Reno Bunker was a trap.”

  April’s head jerked. “How the heck would you even know he was heading to a Bunker?”

  King grinned, the sight slightly off. “Do you really think the Twenty gang members had legitimate intel from the president? He’s using those morons as fodder, and it worked. Sure, we had to give up some explosives, but they weren’t exactly our good stuff.”

  “How do you know so much about this?” And wait a minute. “Who are you working with? How?”

  “Funny you should ask.”

  They were talking in riddles. “Why am I here?”

  Jerome Blankenship moved into the room from the stairwell. “You’re here because I want you. Always had a thing for Cherry Valance.”

  April blinked. Her head hurt again. This guy kept popping up, and now he’d hit her in the head. Payback was going to involve her knee to his balls, whether or not he had a knife. She wished she’d had time to learn to fight. “Who in the world are you?”

  “Well, since you asked…” He smiled and moved to one of the long, paneled walls. “I became the vice president very recently.”

  The VP. Wait a minute. How was that even possible? That was beyond crazy. “The vice president of what?” Was the church now holding elections? None of this made sense. “And why aren’t you on any Vanguard member lists?” Her vision kept fuzzing.

  He smiled, looking even bigger. “The VP of the country, pretty girl. And I’m not on a list because I didn’t come in the front door.” He pressed a button, and a panel slid away to reveal about fifty men in a tunnel, all armed. They moved into the room and silently jogged up the stairs.

  She couldn’t breathe.

  Where the hell had those men come from? Everyone had an EL on his shirt. The president’s Elite Force?

  Within a minute, it was just the three of them in the room. She instinctively stood, craning her neck to see down the tunnel. “I don’t understand.”

  King swiveled in his chair. “A lot of people don’t know that there are at least eleven miles of tunnels under Los Angles that were used during Prohibition. Rumor has it that the mayor’s office at the time ran the hooch for the rich and thirsty.”

  She blinked. “That’s crazy.” Yet the passageway was right in front of her. And where had those soldiers gone? She had to get a warning to the remaining Vanguard-Merc soldiers.

  Jerome pulled out his knife, and it glinted in the dim light. “There are also abandoned subway and equestrian tunnels. It’s amazing what’s under this once-imposing city.”

  King eyed the knife. “I wrote one of my college papers on the tunnels and Prohibition. When I joined Vanguard, I recognized this building. It didn’t take much to join the good old church and do some exploring.”

  “Why?” April asked, her gaze on the blade. “Why find the tunnels and not tell us?”

  “The president has promised me a place in his administration,” King said calmly. “He has the weapons, the planes, and the troops. Vanguard has held temporary power.”

  “That’s over now,” Jerome agreed. “Most of the Vanguard-Merc soldiers were at the Bunker and are most likely dead now. We rigged the explosives to detonate when they arrived and triggered the bombs. Our strongest force just entered Vanguard territory from the inside, and they’re going to clean house. You, my Cherry, get to come with me.”

  She shivered and turned toward Pastor King. “What about your church?”

  He scoffed. “That was a cover. I couldn’t care less about the Pure or these people.”

  The truth dawned on her. “You’ve had Scorpius.”

  “Yep.” He stood and reached for a gun from the top drawer of his desk. “I’ll leave you two so you can discuss your plans.” Sauntering with a definite swagger, he moved past Jerome to the stairwell. “Somebody needs to shoot anybody who comes near the building before we leave.”

  One thing at a time. The Vanguard soldiers knew how to fight. April turned and stared into the darkened tunnel. Moss and bricks made up the sides. How was it possible that the tunnels had existed for so long? “This is how those explosives got into Vanguard.”

  “Yep. Planted those myself.” Jerome leaned against the wall.

  She stared harder at a faint outline of a person. Looked like a man. “Who is that?”

  Jerome turned, unconcerned. “Oh. That’s Joe Bentley. He discovered that King wasn’t in this for the church, and there was an altercation. His body will probably start stinking soon.”

  Oh, poor Joe. The guy really had wanted to create a safe place for the uninfected, and he’d been killed for it. “You didn’t have to murder him.”

  “I enjoyed it.” Jerome ran his gaze over her body. “I’m saving your life by bringing you with me to what’s now considered the Capitol of the country.”

  Lake Tahoe? “Please don’t kill these people.” Emotions churned through her. Most of the Vanguard-Merc folks just wanted to survive and build lives. “You don’t need to do that.”

  He shrugged. “We have our orders. The president wants to make an example here.”

  How could this be happening? Nobody was that evil. She just couldn’t believe that. “What about the civilians? And the kids?” She moved toward him, needing him to understand. “They’re innocent.”

  “This is war.” There was no emotion behind his eyes.

  “You’re right.” She kicked him as hard as she could in the balls, and when he leaned over with a startled gasp, she punched him in the nose. Something cracked.

  Then she ran.

  They made the drive home in half the time, mainly because they paid no attention to safety. Damon drove one of the motorcycles, weaving in and out through crashed cars and piles of crap, reaching Vanguard-Merc territory with his men on either side of him.

  Gunfire was already shocking through the late afternoon as they approached.

  He drove between the tires and overturned trucks. Two Vanguard soldiers lay prone on the ground by the main gate. “Ram it,” he yelled back.

  Jax nodded and hit the gas of his Humvee, one of the vehicles taken from the Century City Bunker. He hit the fence dead center and careened through.

  A firefight was already happening at he
adquarters, with soldiers firing down from windows to the parking lot where several enemy soldiers fired back, ducking behind displaced vehicles. A quick look at their shirts confirmed that they were Elite Force.

  How the hell had they gotten in?

  Jax leaped out of the Humvee, already firing.

  Damon came up on his right, ditched the bike, and fired at one soldier. The guy went down. Greyson moved up to his side, his arm in a makeshift sling. “Headquarters is barricaded,” he yelled.

  The inhabitants had put what looked like tables in front of the door.

  A bullet winged by his ear.

  Grey dropped and fired. A scream of pain came from behind a truck.

  “Good.” Damon turned as more fire erupted in the inner territory. Where was April? Were she and the kids safe? He moved into a fast run with Greyson by his side. They made it around the building to see two Elite Force guys fighting hand-to-hand with a Vanguard-Merc soldier near the showers. The guy was naked but fighting hard. Two guns sat on the sidewalk across the street, so somehow he’d kicked those out of the way.

  Damon lifted his gun and squeezed.

  The first Elite Force guy went down fast. Greyson took care of the other one.

  Screams came from one of the apartment buildings. His radio crackled. “Yeah.”

  “Jax here. Headquarters is secured, and we’re going through the territory in grid-style. My men have trained for an attack if we’re infiltrated.” An explosion sounded by the burned-out building. “You and Greyson secure the kids.”

  “Affirmative.” That’s exactly where Damon was headed anyway. He ignored the firefights going on all around him and shoved the pain in his body somewhere else. An Elite Force soldier jumped out at him, and he fired quickly.

  The guy dropped, dead. Without missing a step, Damon took his weapon and kept going.

  Grey yanked him over to the side of a building. “Keep covered, damn it.”

  For the first time, Damon had trouble keeping his cool. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the weird storm clouds. The smell of ozone competed with the scent of blood and gunfire. Where was April?