Scorch Road (Scorch Series Romance Thriller Book 1)

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Scorch Road (Scorch Series Romance Thriller Book 1) Page 6

by Toby Neal


  Roan had never known love. Maybe he never would. But JT knew what love could be like, even if Mary had been taken from him.

  “If I take Elizabeth to Philadelphia, will you stay? Keep an eye on the Haven? I can’t leave it unprotected, with no one to care for the animals.”

  A long moment passed. Roan went to the sink, turned it on, wetted a towel and rubbed his face. He’d made a cozy bed on a pile of hay where Shadow rested already. “Okay. If I must.”

  “Good. Something you need to know is that the Haven is a lot more than just a farm. You need to know what’s below in case something happens, and it takes a while for me to get back.”

  “Or you don’t come back at all.” Roan turned to JT, his eyes serious. “You better, or you know I’ll be here, feet up on your porch railing, sucking down your last beer.” Roan kept up the stern expression.

  JT snorted a laugh. “This way. There’s a hidden entry in the house, too, but this is one of the exits.” He shooed the nanny goats out of their stall and into the paddock where they grazed, and brushed aside the straw covering the floor with his boot, uncovering a hatch.

  “Holy shit,” Roan said as JT lifted the four by four door. A movement sensor activated lights beneath, illuminating a ladder. This whole stretch of crazy with SHTF was almost worth it to see his friend’s face slack with surprise at the warren of rooms, labs, kitchens, and living quarters below.

  The Haven wasn’t just a house with a bomb shelter beneath. It could be a village.

  After showing Roan the sights, which were impressive if horribly musty and in need of various degrees of repair, he locked back up. JT spelled out the rest of his security measures, packing some of them into the back of the Rover and stowing a loaded Glock from his stash of armaments under the front seat.

  “You really do think it’s the end of the world.” The skin tightened around Roan’s gray eyes. “You came out here to hide from it. Now you’re going into it voluntarily. And here I thought you were just a dot-com gentleman farmer, playing with your goats at the ass-end of nowhere for shits and giggles.”

  “It’s all going down and I’ve known that for a while. I just want to save my family.” JT shrugged off a twinge of worry for Elizabeth. He’d do what he could for her, get her as far as Philadelphia—but he knew because of the Sight that nothing they did, cells or no cells, could stop what was in motion already.

  The dream he’d had last night, tossing and turning on his rabbity pillow, had assured him of that. Flashes were all he could remember, but those flashes were chilling: mounds of piled, burning bodies, the rattle of gunfire against shattered windows, and packs of dogs chasing the few citizens who remained in once-busy streets.

  JT was glad he couldn’t remember more.

  He picked up a five-gallon, clear plastic water jug and filled it at the hose attached to the sink. “The crops are watered on a timer . . . “ When he’d finished his orientation, the two men locked down the heavy metal cargo case on top of the Range Rover. He hadn’t filled the inside with supplies so that they could sleep in it in relative safety. He tried not to imagine how cozy it was going to be, tucked into a sleeping bag with Elizabeth in the back.

  “You’ve got a long trip to Philly,” Roan said. “How will I know when to expect you back?”

  “Got the radio in the house. I’ll bring a handheld and let you know what’s going on out there and when to expect me back.” JT headed for the house to check on Elizabeth’s progress.

  The phone was ringing—a loud, hollow jangle echoing from the kitchen, as jarring as sticking his finger in a light socket.

  Nothing good could come from a phone that had been silent through an emergency, ringing now in the night.

  Elizabeth

  The phone was ringing. Elizabeth reached for the mint-colored landline screwed into the kitchen wall with a long curling cord, but JT reached it first, coming in the front door at a run, grabbing up the receiver. “This is JT.”

  Elizabeth could hear a woman’s voice but couldn’t make out the words. JT’s eyes darkened as he listened, the color draining from his face. His head bent forward and one hand came up to cover his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose.

  “Okay, Mama. Yes, I’ll be praying. I’m coming. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  He hung up the phone without looking at her, head still bent. “Are you all packed up?”

  “Yes.”

  “Get together some food, okay?”

  Whatever was happening with his family was bad. Someone had to be sick.

  “Okay.”

  JT went back out of the house, Pinocchio by his side. Elizabeth picked up the phone and tried her parents’ house again.

  The line was still busy.

  She replaced the receiver, managing to keep her anxiety at bay. So many people were trying to make calls. That was what was tying up the phone lines. DC was very populated. She would get through to her parents soon enough. And JT was going to take her as far as Philadelphia. She was on the right track.

  She rubbed at the knife. That was the first panic attack she’d had in ages. It was understandable and yet unacceptable—she needed to keep it together. But that kind of thinking was exactly what could bring on an attack. She needed to be “easy” with herself. But how could she do that when there was so much at stake?

  It didn’t take JT long to finish packing. Elizabeth carried trash bags of hastily-assembled food to the truck where JT and Roan stowed them, keeping the back clear for them to sleep in. Elizabeth tried not to imagine being tucked back in there with JT. She rubbed her knife.

  The night was abuzz with crickets, the air velvety, the Milky Way a diamond scarf overhead—and yet disaster was coming, in fact was already here. The Haven made it easy to forget.

  “Thanks for keeping an eye on things.” JT embraced Roan, smacking his back in the way of men.

  “Just don’t leave me holding the bag on this place,” Roan said. He turned and grabbed Elizabeth up, lifting her right off the ground in a big hug. Eyes wide with surprise, Elizabeth patted Roan’s shoulder as he set her back down. He kissed her cheek followed by a touch of his big brown hand, then looked over at JT.

  “Don’t underestimate her. She’s a hawk in sparrow’s feathers.”

  “More of your tribal wisdom?” JT sounded annoyed.

  “I call it like I see it.” Roan shrugged. “Take care,” he told Elizabeth softly, and walked back to the house, eagle feather fluttering, Shadow in his wake.

  JT climbed into the Rover and fired it up as Elizabeth got in the passenger side. They were officially on the road to the apocalypse.

  Chapter Nine

  Elizabeth

  Once on the main highway, JT turned on the radio and found only static.

  “That was an Air Force jet that was taking you to DC,” JT said. “So I wanted you to know I tried to get hold of the nearest Air Force base using the radio, and they wouldn’t respond to my hails. I know the sheriff tried to let them know about the downed plane, too, but I guess they have bigger fish to fry.”

  “If I could just get hold of my father, he has connections . . . “

  “You keep saying that. He must really be a bigwig.”

  Now was the time to tell JT she was a senator’s daughter, but something made her bite her tongue. She instinctively knew that her wealth and background would be a liability, not an asset, with JT Luciano. “Maybe there’s another Air Force base we can approach before Philly.”

  JT snorted. “And do what? Drive up to the gate, show them the cryocase and tell them it’s a matter of national security and they need to fly you to DC? Do you know how crackpot that sounds? You don’t even have an ID. They won’t give us the time of day.”

  “It’s worth a try,” she said. “I can be very convincing.”

  “No. Any bases are miles out of our way, and unless you can get hold of your daddy and he can wave a magic wand and get us an open sesame, I don’t want us to waste the time.”

 
; Daddy? JT was kind of a dick when he wasn’t saving her life. She folded her arms across her chest and stared out the window.

  They came down out of the mountains and passed through Jackson, Wyoming. A lone pedestrian, a man on horseback wearing a long duster, his Stetson pulled low over his eyes and a shotgun holstered on his saddle, stood by the darkened town square. JT raised a hand, but the stranger did not return the greeting.

  Things were changing for the worse, as close to the Haven as Jackson.

  Elizabeth’s anger at JT’s sharp words faded as they traveled through Jackson, which should have been lively with after dinner revelers but was still, transformed into a ghost town by the crisis. “JT?”

  He glanced over at her, his eyes golden in the light reflecting off the dash. “Yeah?”

  “Thank you for taking me as far as Philadelphia. I’m sorry that you have to leave your home, but please don’t treat me like an idiot—I’ve been through a lot, including a plane crash most recently. I may have had a panic attack, but I assure you that’s not something that happens on a regular basis. If we’re going to be stuck together across the country I hope that we can be respectful. I’m sorry if I’ve angered you in some way, because I appreciate your help.”

  Color stole over JT’s face as his hands opened and closed on the wheel. He was blushing! Elizabeth’s heart fluttered and her chest felt lighter, bubbly . . . strange. Seeing him blush brought on new physical sensations—it was like a wind had blown into the car and made her suddenly weightless.

  “I’m sorry I was rude.” JT cleared his throat. “It was wrong of me.”

  Damn, the man knew how to apologize, and that was rare, especially where Elizabeth came from. No one in DC apologized, afraid to look weak. But JT didn’t seem weak to Elizabeth. He was incredibly strong, and more so because he could admit a mistake.

  “Thank you.” She wanted to tell JT more—spill her guts, let him know how much she’d been through—tell him that no man had ever touched her, and the only one that tried, well . . . it had ended badly. She struggled to suppress the cascade of memory: fingers at her throat, reporters yelling, her parents’ stony expressions.

  They drove on into the Tetons beyond Jackson. JT navigated the twists and turns of the two-lane road, his shoulders bunched. They didn’t pass another car until they were out of the mountains. Fences ran along the side of the road, posts zipping past as they cruised through the sparsely populated landscape. The moon hung low on the horizon, casting a silver glow over the fields and blacktop. The sky was thick with stars—the Milky Way a scarf of light stretching across the darkness.

  The country was so empty, so different from what Elizabeth was used to. She was an urban girl, having spent most of her childhood in DC. She’d chosen urban centers as an adult as well.

  Out here in the wide open, everything coming at you could be seen, but there was no one to help if you needed it. How long did it take for an ambulance to arrive on this lonely road?

  Elizabeth glanced over at JT. With his broad back, useful skills, and ripped arms, he could protect her. Pinocchio could help too, of course. She was glad to have the dog along. His doggie scent was helping to fill the interior with something besides sandalwood and spice.

  She tore her eyes off of JT.

  God, she was attracted to him. That’s what was happening. Elizabeth gasped at the realization. It wasn’t just the head wound—this guy was hot. And sweet, too, even if a little growly. But he knew how to apologize, and he really was a hero.

  She wanted to touch him.

  Elizabeth glanced back over at him. The cab was dim, the light from the headlights barely penetrating the darkness. His profile should be sculpted for posterity.

  JT looked over at her and she looked away, heat crashing over her—it was new and exhilarating to feel this way. She’d thought it was impossible, after what had happened.

  “Do you know how to shoot?” JT asked.

  “No.” Elizabeth slipped her hand into her pocket, wrapping it around the knife. It had been luck that she had the blade on her when the attack happened—pure luck. But now she was never without it. “I’ve never shot a gun.”

  “Fired a weapon, you mean. I’ll give you a quick lesson. Don’t know what we’ll run into on the road ahead.”

  “Okay.” She rolled down the window and a cool wind carrying the smell of livestock, grass, and manure filled the Rover. “We can eat on the road,” Elizabeth concentrated on making her voice sound normal. “And I’m happy to drive for a while. It’s getting late.”

  “You sleep first.”

  Elizabeth curled up and slept for a few hours. When she woke, the moon was behind them. “Let me drive,” she said, sitting up and pushing her hair out of her eyes.

  “I’m fine.”

  “JT, come on.” She smiled and reached out, touching his forearm—warm, and the hair on it was fascinating, both silky and rough. Goose bumps rose on his skin at her touch and he moved his arm away. She sat back into her seat. “If the flu doesn’t get me, it will be stubborn, overtired JT.”

  “I thought we were being respectful,” JT said. He was smiling.

  “Come on, let me drive. I swear I won’t crash.” She looked out at the open road. “Seriously, what could I even hit?”

  “A cow.”

  Elizabeth laughed and JT joined her. Then he pulled over, stopping on the side of the road. They both got out, Pinocchio following JT and trotting off to take care of his business. JT came around the front of the Rover, passing in front of the headlights, and offered her a roll of toilet paper.

  “Thanks.” She went to the back of the Rover, where the tail lights threw a red glow over the road, and dipped into the dark. JT was in the passenger seat when she returned. Elizabeth got in the driver’s seat and could barely reach the pedals. She pulled the seat up tight to the wheel, the whir of the electric motor the only sound except the low purr of the engine.

  She glanced over at JT before she put it into drive. He was smiling. “What?”

  “Nothing. Except you look like a little old lady, all hunched up to the wheel like that.”

  “Respectful, remember?” Elizabeth raised her eyebrows but returned her attention to the road. “I’ve lived in cities most of my life. I don’t actually get to drive much.”

  “Should I be worried?”

  “No. I love the open road.” She grinned. “It’s weird to be even a little bit happy with all that’s going on, but I am. Thanks again for taking me to Philadelphia. I promise you won’t regret it.”

  “I already don’t regret it.” His hazel eyes were slumberous and sexy, the screen of those ridiculous lashes filling them with secrets. Elizabeth flushed and looked at the road ahead, and when she eventually glanced back, he was asleep, his chin on his chest.

  Elizabeth drove until the sun rose and then JT took over driving again. They ate granola bars and cool water from a metal thermos for breakfast.

  Around midday, JT turned off the paved road onto a dirt one, pulling to a stop in front of a gate.

  “What’s going on?” Elizabeth asked.

  JT put the Range Rover in park. “Shooting lesson.” He jumped out, leaving his door ajar. JT’s black hair glistened in the sun and the muscles of his back bunched as he opened the gate. When he climbed back into the driver’s seat, Elizabeth sighed.

  “Everything okay?”

  She nodded but didn’t make eye contact, afraid he’d see how he affected her—how hard it was not to reach out and stroke his curls. JT had saved her life and shown her what it was like to want to touch someone. She could be grateful for that even if he wasn’t interested.

  JT drove through the open gate and before he could get out to close it, Elizabeth pushed open her door and jumped down onto the soft dirt of the road. Her sweatpants, a second pair that JT had loaned her and she’d taken in with his emergency sewing kit while they drove, now hugged her hips as she jogged over to the gate. She pushed it back into place and then ran back to the
SUV, climbing in.

  They passed through a stand of trees and the road curved around to reveal a trailer, bowed in the middle, the roof pocked with holes, the metal siding coated with rust. JT parked next to the dilapidated structure and turned off the SUV. The engine ticked as it cooled. “You can have privacy behind the trailer.”

  “How did you know about this place?”

  “I’ve hunted in this area before.”

  Elizabeth took a roll of toilet paper and crossed the overgrown yard, navigating behind the trailer. When she returned, JT was crouched next to an open black plastic case. He looked up at her as she approached.

  “I’m going to show you how to fire a shotgun. It’s the best weapon for someone with so little experience.” He stood up, a black pistol held in his right hand, and a shotgun, its wooden stock gleaming in the sun, in his left.

  He tucked the pistol into the back of his jeans and cracked the shotgun open. Pulling two shells from his pocket, he pushed them into the barrel. “Come here.”

  Sweat prickled Elizabeth’s neck and she swallowed as JT handed her a pair of earplugs, screwed some into his own ears, and then stood behind her, his hands on her hips, positioning them so that her stance was solid.

  The shotgun was heavier than she’d expected. Keeping it set into her shoulder, the barrel pointed at a tree JT had marked with a slash of his Buck knife, she tightened her abs to keep the thing steady.

  “This is a Remington double barrel. Used for hunting, usually. It’s going to kick back at you so try not to tense up much. Just go with it.”

 

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