Stranded

by Patricia H. Rushford

  “We don’t know that for sure.” Jennie took the flashlight out of his limp hand. “Come on. Let’s keep looking.”

  “I’ve seen enough.”

  “Fine. Stay here. I’m going to look inside.”

  Jennie went around to the front of the moving truck and slid behind the wheel. The keys were in the ignition. She leaned over and opened the glove box.

  “What are you doing?” Eric opened the passenger-side door.

  “When you rent a truck, you have to sign papers. I thought maybe there’d be something to tell us who did it. Unfortunately, there’s nothing except the manual.”

  “They probably stole it.”

  “Let’s look in the back.” Jennie hopped down and went around to the hack. Eric was already sliding open the back panel.

  Neither spoke as the light flashed over what had been in the house. Mattresses, chairs, a television set, a bookshelf, pots and pans. Though there were a few boxes, most items had been thrown in haphazardly. Eric pulled the door down and sat on the bumper, then rested his head in his hands.

  Jennie sat next to him and found it hard to imagine what he must be going through. Seeing the empty house had shaken him up. But seeing the furniture, the pans his mother had used to cook with, the furniture they’d sprawled out on to watch TV or talk … Jennie tipped the flashlight back and forth around the shed, then stopped abruptly as the light caught something red partly hidden under a large tarp. It looked like part of—

  “Listen.” Eric grabbed the flashlight and snapped it off.

  “What are you doing?” Panic welled in her chest like a surging wave.

  “Shh. Just listen.”

  The roar of a vehicle sent Jennie’s heart skittering. Headlights flashed into the garage door windows and the cracks between the aged wooden walls.

  “They’ve come back to finish the job.” Eric stepped in front of her. “I won’t let them.”

  “Wait!” Jennie grabbed for him, hitting only air. She caught him at the side door. “Don’t go out there.”

  Eric pushed her aside. “Get out of here. Try to get to the barn. There’s another door in the back. Ride back to the Colony and tell them we need help.”

  Jennie had no intention of leaving him. Eric had taken only a few steps out of the shed when the lights from a truck caught him. He stopped, glanced Jennie’s way, and started to run back. A gunshot exploded and Eric fell.

  15

  “Eric!” Jennie screamed as he fell at her feet. She grabbed his jacket and pulled him inside, then shut the door and bolted it.

  “Oh, dear God, let him be okay.” The panic in her chest swelled. Her breaths came in short gasps. Someone pounded on the door, and she heard hard, angry voices. “Open up.”

  Something hard smashed against the door.

  Eric. She had to focus on Eric. Jennie dragged him away from the door and under the work counter, hopefully out of sight. Think, McGrady, think.

  “Forget him,” one of the men roared. “We’ve got work to do.”

  Work? What did they mean? Were they coming inside? Eric groaned. “They shot me. They actually shot me.”

  “I know. Where?”

  “Shoulder.” He grasped his left arm and tried to sit. “Hurts.”

  “Hold still.” Jennie reached inside his jacket. Warm blood oozed around her fingers and dripped across the back of her hand. “I have to stop the bleeding.”

  “No point.” Eric struggled to sit up. “They’re going to kill us both.”

  “You said there was another door.” She put an arm around his waist. “Come on. Lean on me. We can make it.”

  “You get the back,” one of the men yelled. “Douse it good.”

  Jennie froze. The strong, sickening smell of gasoline seeped through the shed’s old boards, leaving no doubt as to their intention. They hadn’t forgotten the tools. And they hadn’t come back to get the moving truck. They were going to torch the place.

  In seconds, flames surrounded the old building. Once the fire caught the petroleum products on the floor and in the vehicles, the whole place would explode.

  “Come on. We have to get out of here. Now!” Jennie pulled Eric to his feet, and the two of them stumbled across the floor, away from the grease.

  “It’s no use.” Eric grimaced. “Leave me.”

  “No way. Work with me, Eric. I have an idea.” Jennie pushed Eric into the passenger seat of the moving truck, then raced around and jumped into the cab. In an automatic motion she belted herself in and turned the key. The truck lurched.

  “The clutch.” Eric grimaced and held his shoulder. “Step on the clutch.” He grabbed his seat belt and clicked the buckle into place.

  Jennie slammed her foot against the clutch and twisted the key again. This time the engine came to life. Flames covered the entire wall in front of her now. The old timbers melted in the intense heat.

  Jennie’s hand closed around the shift stick. She had two choices: Go straight ahead through the back wall or back out through the metal garage door. Straight ahead, she decided. Gears ground as she pushed the stick forward. “I can’t.” She bit her lip until she drew blood. “It won’t go into gear.”

  “Here.” Eric leaned over. Pushing her hand away, he grabbed the stick and maneuvered it around, pushing it into first.

  Jennie let up on the clutch and depressed the gas pedal. The truck jumped forward and died.

  God, please. Jennie held her breath and tried again. Flames lapped at the sides of the truck. In moments the fire would find the gas tank. Jennie pressed steadily on the gas pedal. The truck moved slowly at first, then shot forward as Jennie gave it more gas.

  “We made it!” Jennie cheered as they shot through the flaming wall. The ride was bumpy with the truck going over the rough terrain. But they were clear of the fire and hopefully clear of the men who meant to kill them.

  “Jennie, look out!” Eric braced himself as the truck rammed into a fence post and shot into a watering hole.

  She slammed on the brake, and the truck shuddered to a stop.

  Jennie closed her eyes and dropped her head back against the seat. Her hands still gripped the steering wheel. “You did it, Jen.” Eric reached across the seat to hug her. “I didn’t think we’d make it.”

  “I wasn’t so sure, either, for a while.” In the rearview mirror Jennie could see the entire shop engulfed in flames, burning white hot against the dark sky.

  “We’re not out of this yet,” she cautioned. “Those guys are probably going to come after us. They meant to get rid of everything in the shop—including us and this truck.”

  “We’d better run. They won’t find us out there.” Eric climbed out of the truck and, after stumbling several feet, dropped to the ground.

  Jennie pried her fingers off the steering wheel and slid across the seat. For those few terrifying moments, she’d forgotten about his injury. She jumped down and almost fell, her legs so rubbery she had to hold on to the side of the truck to steady herself. Water from the shallow pond seeped into her boots. Three steps and she was free of the water. She hunkered down beside him.

  “They’re leaving.” Eric pointed to the left of the shop, where taillights headed out of the driveway and out to the main road.

  Relieved, Jennie knelt down next to Eric. “How’s the shoulder?”

  “Still hurts. Need to get back and stop the fire from spreading.” He struggled to get up again.

  “It’s too late. There’s nothing we can do.”

  “The barn … the horses. If the fire jumps …”

  He didn’t have to finish. Jennie’s uncertain gaze darted from Eric to the barn.

  “I’m okay.” He gripped his arm again and got up. “Let’s go.”

  An explosion rocked the night, sending a fiery plume high into the night sky. “The gas tank,” Jennie guessed. Sev
eral more explosions came after that. Eric’s dad’s vintage truck. The tractor. Jennie watched in horror as flames from the machine shop shot out like fireworks. Burning debris landed on the roof of the barn. Jennie broke into a run, leaving Eric behind.

  By the time she reached the barn, the fire had taken hold. Sable and Faith whinnied and pranced in circles. Staying low, Jennie quickly untied them and led them toward the open barn door. Sable reared and broke into a run. Faith followed.

  The roof of the barn where the fire had started was already beginning to cave in. Smoke had filled the barn, making it hard to breathe. Coughing, Jennie brought up the neck of her t-shirt and covered her nose and mouth, then bolted for the far stall, where the mare and foal stood. She opened the door, but the mare wouldn’t budge. “Come, on girl. We have to get you out of here.”

  In response, the mare lifted her front legs, pawing at Jennie. Jennie ran around to the other side of the stall and climbed over. Flames licked at her hands and face. A spark sank into the jacket, and Jennie slapped it out. She needed to get out, but she couldn’t leave the horses. There has to be a way.

  Maybe if she could get the foal out, the mother would follow. Jennie wrapped her arms around the foal. “Come on. Take it easy.” She spoke in as calming a voice as she could muster. Jennie managed to escape the prancing mare’s hooves as she ducked out of the stall.

  Eric hobbled to the barn door and helped Jennie carry the foal well away from the building. Part of the roof collapsed as Jennie started back in.

  “Stay back!” Jennie barely heard Eric above the roar of the fire. The mare whinnied. Hooves slammed against the stall, knocking down one side.

  “Come on,” Jennie urged. “Just stop fighting and come out.”

  Eric brushed past her and ducked into the building. “No!” Jennie started after him. A beam shifted and tossed a load of burning shingles at her feet. She jumped back, but not fast enough. A spark shot up to her face, stinging her cheek like a hot poker.

  “Whoa. Easy, girl.” Eric’s plea sounded over the roaring fire.

  The mare quieted, but only for a second.

  “Come on, Eric. Hurry,” Jennie yelled. “Get out of there. Now!”

  He didn’t respond. The mare’s frantic cries stopped. “Eric!” Jennie backed away from the intense heat.

  He’d never be able to make it out of there. Jennie dropped down next to the foal and gathered the frightened pony in her arms. She let out a shuddering breath. If he wasn’t out by now, he wasn’t going to get out at all.

  16

  Tears stung the burn on Jennie’s cheek and dripped onto the foal’s silky coat. Snow seeped into her jeans, but she didn’t care. She closed her eyes and waited as grief rocked her. She hadn’t known Eric long, but she realized now how close a friend he’d come to be.

  A horse snorted. She felt its breath on her neck. She sniffed and looked back through watery eyes, expecting to see Faith or Sable.

  “Hey,” a raspy voice greeted. “You didn’t give up on us, did you?” Eric coughed and slid off the mare’s back.

  Jennie jumped up and threw her arms around his neck. “Oh, Eric. Thank God. I thought for sure you …” She buried her face in his jacket.

  Eric slid his good arm around her waist and held her close. He smelled of smoke and sweat and blood. Remembering his gunshot wound, Jennie stepped back. “How’s the arm?”

  He cupped his shoulder. “Must not be too bad. I’m still alive. I think it’s bleeding again though.”

  “Better let me have a look.” Eric shrugged off his smoke-blackened jacket while Jennie returned to the truck to get the flashlight. Ordering him to sit down, she examined the wound. It was bleeding, but not badly. The bullet had grazed the surface, leaving a gash about an inch long and a quarter inch deep. Using Eric’s pocketknife, she made a slit in the lower part of his t-shirt and tore off about a six-inch band, then secured it around his upper arm and shoulder.

  “That was a stupid thing to do.” She tied the ends and helped him put his shirt and jacket back on.

  “Yeah, well, I couldn’t let her burn.” He coughed again.

  “How did you manage to get her out?”

  “Jumped on her back and rode her out. Found a hole on the other side of the barn. Made it through just before it collapsed.”

  “So what do we do now?” Jennie turned her attention back to the burning buildings. The fire had died down some, looking like a gigantic bonfire. The explosions had stopped now that the fuel had burned down. Both buildings had been reduced to a pile of rubble.

  Lights flickered in the distance. Moments later, Jennie heard the sound of approaching horses. She scrambled to her feet, turning off the flashlight. “They’re coming back.”

  In the fire’s glow, Jennie could make out the shapes of three horsemen.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here.” Eric took hold of her arm and started running toward the darkness. “Eric! Jennie!” a deep, familiar voice yelled.

  Eric jerked to a stop and waited for the three men to come alongside.

  “We saw the fire from the compound.” Stan dismounted. “Noticed your horses were gone. When we couldn’t find Jennie, we went looking for you. What’s going on?”

  “Why were you looking for me?” Jennie asked. “Never mind that now. What happened out here?”

  After getting drinks of water from the men’s canteens, Eric and Jennie explained.

  “You should have come to me, Eric—or to Donovan. With all that’s happened around here lately, you had no business coming out here alone.”

  “I wasn’t …”

  Stan gave Jennie a disapproving look. “You both could have been killed. Did you get a look at the men who did this?”

  “No,” Eric and Jennie responded together.

  He frowned and adjusted the brim of his hat. “And they didn’t hang around after you drove the truck out?”

  “No. I guess with all the noise from the fire, they didn’t hear us. They were already driving away when we got out of the truck.”

  Stan nodded. “Good thing.” Turning to the other two men, he said, “Doesn’t look like there’s much we can do here. You two can stay and make sure the fire doesn’t spread to the house. I’ll take the kids back.”

  “No!” Jennie hadn’t meant to protest so loudly. It just came out. “I mean, what about the fire department? And the sheriff? They’ll want a statement. Eric and I need to tell them what happened.”

  “We can handle that,” Daniel said. “If the sheriff has any questions, he’ll know where to find you.”

  “But—”

  “Eric needs medical attention. Looks like you could use some too.” Stan tilted her chin and eyed her face. “You’ve got a nasty burn on your cheek.”

  “It’s not so bad.” Jennie wanted to stay. She needed to talk to the authorities herself. She finally told him so. “I want to know if they found my parents and why they haven’t come for me.”

  “We’ve been wondering about that too. In fact, Donovan told me this evening that we needed to contact the sheriff again. He must be having trouble finding your family.” He nodded toward the fire. “But don’t worry. He’ll be here. Pretty hard not to miss a fire like that.”

  “It’s obvious that the fire was meant to destroy evidence,” Jennie said.

  “They took my parents. I’m afraid they might have killed them.”

  “Let’s hope not.” Stan frowned. “Don’t jump to conclusions, Eric.”

  “The plane.” Jennie suddenly remembered seeing parts of it under the tarp. “They moved all the pieces of the plane into the shop. Why would they do that?”

  “Maybe they were instrumental in causing the crash,” Stan suggested. “If so, they couldn’t chance an FAA investigation.”

  Causing the crash … It had been an accident, hadn’t it? Jennie’s stomach lur
ched as she remembered the last few terrifying moments of the crash. What Jennie had thought was lightning—could it have been a bullet?

  Jennie rubbed at her temples. “How could they move something so big? There are no roads around the crash site …”

  “Helicopters.”

  “They must have a huge operation.”

  “They want to get rid of us,” Eric said. “And it looks like they’ll do anything to make that happen.”

  “Sadly, Eric, you may be right. Go back to Donovan. Tell him what happened. My men and I will stay here and talk to the authorities.”

  Jennie’s brain felt like mush. She couldn’t think. Her throat felt parched from the smoke. She had a headache and hadn’t had any juice for hours. Maybe the men were right. She and Eric should go back to the compound. Still, she’d feel better talking to the authorities herself.

  “Jennie.” Stan settled a hand on her shoulder. “There’s something you need to know before you head back—the reason we went looking for you in the first place.”

  Jennie frowned. “What’s that?”

  “Your grandmother’s condition has worsened.”

  17

  “What’s wrong with her?” Urgency rose in Jennie’s chest, making it hard to breathe. “Is … is she …”

  “I don’t know. Something about her heart. Donovan and the doctor thought you would want to see her.”

  “When—I mean, how long ago?” She cast Eric an angry look. If he hadn’t wanted to come out here, she’d have been there for Gram. What if she already…? Jennie stopped the thought before it fully formed in her mind. Gram was alive. She was tough and healthy. Jennie fought against the images of Gram lying in a hospital bed in a ward without adequate care and equipment. She had to stay positive. And she couldn’t blame Eric. She’d encouraged Eric to come back to the farm. She had no one to blame but herself.

  “You can stay out here with us if you want to,” Stan said, “but—”

  “No. You’re right. I need to get back.” A sickening lump settled itself in the pit of her stomach.