Run Like the Wind: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (The SHTF Series Book 3)

by L. L. Akers

Puck lay cramped and miserable in the space between the bed and the window on Graysie’s bedroom floor, his hand throbbing. Ozzie was spread out beside him, all four feet in the air, while Graysie cuddled a child on each side of her—the littles, as GrayMan called them. He and Graysie were ‘the kids,’ and Briar and Brody were the ‘Littles,’ because GrayMan said they were all kids and it was confusing.

  Briar and Brody were homesick for their mother, and restless. She couldn’t read the books anymore because GrayMan said they had to turn out the lantern to save the batteries, so she was making up the stories, trying to get the little kids to nod off.

  She finished the story about the mushroom, ending with the boy buying all sorts of yummy food for his family, and then paused to take a deep, exhausted breath before starting into a rhyme. “Ten little monkeys, jumping on the bed—”

  “—Graysie?” Puck interrupted, from the floor.

  “What?”

  “How am I gonna count to ten now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t have ten fingers,” he whispered, holding both his hands up in the dark, where only he could see.

  There was a long pause. “You still have part of that finger. Now you just have three pinkies. So, you can still count to ten, Puck. It’s no big deal. It’s sorta cool.”

  Puck thought about GrayMan’s ring. He loved that ring. And GrayMan could never get another. When GrayMan had given it to him, Puck had asked him if they both could have one so that they’d have matching rings. Grayman had said, Nope. It’s one of a kind, boy, and he’d given it him for safekeeping.

  GrayMan had trusted him with his ring.

  He felt awful that he’d lost it. Maybe he could find it again, like the boy in the forest who’d found the magic mushroom… that boy was a hero. And like Graysie in the back of the truck, fighting off the bad people who tried to get in. She’d protected him.

  Girls can be heroes too, he thought.

  If he found the ring, GrayMan and the little kids would see he was a hero, too.

  “Graysie?” Puck whispered again. “Can I sleep up there? I’m not comfy.”

  “No, Puck. There’s not room. You’ll have a bed tomorrow in the basement. Go to sleep.”

  Puck sighed. “I want to hear the stories, too,” he whined.

  She shifted in the bed. “You can hear the stories from there, Puck, if you be quiet.”

  Puck blew out a frustrated breath and rolled over on the hard floor. He already knew the ending anyway. They were all the same. Each one had a hero. The hero saved something or somebody. Or they found something special that brought something even more special.

  Puck wanted to be a hero more than anything. He thought back to earlier and realized GrayMan might not still be mad at him, but he didn’t think he was a hero. More like a scaredy-cat. Probably everybody did.

  bang, bang, bang

  Someone beat on the door.

  Grayson jumped from the bed, grabbing his shot gun and a flashlight at the same time as Jake jumped from his bed, pulling his pistol from the holster on his bedside table, and grabbing the battery-operated lantern.

  They met at the door, behind Tina and Tarra who hadn’t moved into the camper just yet, and were already in position on either side of it, their pistols pointed safely at the ceiling, but held close to their chests. Elmer sat on the couch in rumpled clothes, wide awake and hunkered over with his own shotty pointed at the door, the moonlight reflecting off his half-bald head.

  Grayson waved his gun down. “Don’t point it at me, Elmer…I’ve got to open the door!”

  “Then move outta the way, boy,” Elmer grumbled.

  Grayson shook his head at the old timer and leaned his shoulder against the door. “Who is it?” he roared loudly.

  “It’s Nick.”

  Grayson waved the guns down and swung the door open. He stepped past Nick and looked out around the yard. Finally, satisfied Nick was alone, he turned to him on the porch. “What the hell drug you all the way out here, to the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night?” he grumbled.

  “I see you’re in fine spirits, Grayson. Nice to see you alive, too.”

  Nick was the owner of QualPro Auto & Marine, a local repair shop that shared property with a used car and marine dealership, and the place where Jake and Grayson both took their vehicles for service. He didn’t look any worse for wear…still the same short salt and pepper colored beard and closely-trimmed hair. Skinny, as usual, but not any skinner than usual.

  Jake stepped up and shook Nick’s hand. “Good to see you, buddy.”

  Nick had saved Jake’s life. Or so he claimed. When Jake lost his shit at the sight of a man taking a bullet, Nick took the credit—or the blame—for shooting the man who’d pulled Jake off the four-wheeler to steal it.

  Without Nick there, pushing him to flee, Jake would surely have stayed to pay the piper, and faced the mob of the man’s buddies that were running toward him. He may have never made it to the farm to meet up with Gabby when the lights first went out.

  He owed Nick.

  “Where’s Rena?” Jake asked.

  “She’s gone, man.”

  Jake felt like the air was pushed out of him. “Oh man. I’m so sorry.”

  Nick laughed at Jake’s stricken face. “No, she’s not dead. I’m sure she’s fine. I meant she took off. Good riddance, I say. One less mouth to feed.”

  Jake laughed in relief. The two had always had a volatile on-again, off-again relationship, which would make things even worse in the apocalypse. They loved hard, but they fought hard too. It was both their faults; two peas in a pod. But Rena was a nice girl and he hoped she was doing okay out there.

  Grayson grumpily waved him in, stepping over Tina and Tarra’s blankets all over the floor, and sat down, still holding his gun. “So I’ll ask again…what brings you here?”

  Nick harrumphed at Grayson. “Damn man, that’s a fine way to say thank you.”

  “Thank you for what?”

  “Some gang came out to the shop. Knocked us around a bit looking for Olivia and Gabby. I didn’t tell them anything, and I guess they didn’t find you. A little thank you, maybe?”

  “They found us,” Grayson answered tersely, wiping off his gun with his T-shirt.

  Nick’s eyes got wide. “Not by me they didn’t. I swear. I even knocked out one of my guys so he didn’t run his mouth. Popped him in the noggin with a wrench. They left knowing nothing.”

  Jake patted Nick on the shoulder. “Thanks, man. We know it wasn’t by you. Had a rat at Tullymore that told them. They’re gone now, though. So is the rat. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Oh yeah, that’s the other reason I came out here. I went there first to warn you, in case you were there, and because I passed right by it, and Tullymore is on fire, man. Big time. Whopping huge flames shooting straight up to the sky!”

  “Wait. What?” Jake asked in disbelief. His knees wobbled and he sat heavily in a chair. “Is everybody okay? What about my house?”

  “Your house is gone, dude. Gone.” He snapped his fingers. “Nothing left but charcoal and kindling now.”

  Jake ran his hands over his face. Tina and Tarra sat down on the couch with Elmer. Grayson waved Nick to a chair too and went into the kitchen to fetch two glasses of water, one for Nick and one for Jake.

  “Tucker and Katie…and the kids?” Jake asked hopefully. “Kenny and Xander? Their families? Everybody okay?”

  Nick sadly shook his head. “They’re gone, too.”

  Gabby stumbled into the room, having heard the conversation from the hallway but in her nightgown and not wanting to step into the room with Nick. “No,” she cried, running to Jake. Jake caught her and brought her down easy into the chair with him.

  Nick stood up suddenly. “No, Gabby! I’m so sorry. I mean they’re gone…. not dead. They took off with the rest of the folks from Tullymore in the back of military cargo trucks. I watched everything from the woods.”

  Gabby wiped away
her tears. “Oh. Well, that’s good then, right?”

  Jake nodded. “Yeah. That’s good. It must’ve been the same guys from the FEMA camp. Guess they had to accept their help after all. At least they’re safe.” He squeezed her hand and gave her a weak smile, his heart still beating a song of thunder at the bad news.

  Grayson shook his head and sat down. “Bullshit. Ain’t nothing sound good about that story. That’s more screwed up than a blonde’s checkbook.”

  Nick accepted the glass of water that Grayson handed him and drank deeply before answering. He sat the glass down and wiped his mouth, then shook his head. “You’d be right, Grayson. That’s what I was coming to warn you about when I went by Tullymore. Rumor is those weren’t real military trucks. Those asshats came through town stealing food and supplies, and then later setting homes on fire themselves, so that they could rescue people,” he held up his fingers to put quotes around the word rescue, “but some say they’re really militia gone rogue. I was coming here to warn you not to go with them. Tucker and his family, and everyone else from Tullymore, could be in deep shit.”

  “Can they leave if they want to?” Jake asked.

  Nick shrugged. “I have no idea. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of anyone coming back, that had said they were going. For all we know, it might be a five-star resort there. At least we know they have food and shelter.”

  Grayson frowned. “Actually, we don’t know that.”

  Jake squeezed Gabby’s hand and pierced Grayson with a heavy stare, which Grayson avoided.

  A pregnant lull filled the room. He knew what they were asking. “We worry about our own place first. Follow the plan first thing tomorrow morning to fortify the farm, and then, we’ll go check on your friends. Deal?”

  Jake blew out a held breath and nodded. “Deal.”

  28

  The Farm

  Puck tried out his new bed in the basement—just a mattress on the floor—and took a moment to stretch out and stare at the ceiling. He listened to the rumble of the tractor outside. Everyone was working out there, except him and Graysie—and the Littles. They’d been stuck in the basement most of the day, just recently finishing up their project.

  He picked up his sketch pad and crayons and considered drawing what was in his head, but decided not to. Olivia and Gabby didn’t seem to like his pictures, staring at them a long time and whispering when they thought he wasn’t listening.

  He put his things down.

  He was bored. He rolled over to look at the now-neat shelf that Graysie had helped him organize. One row of jars with pretty-colored food took up a whole shelf. Graysie had moved those so they didn’t get broken. On the bottom shelf, cases of water, food buckets, and two totes were tidily stacked, and on the other two shelves, toilet paper and more totes. Everything was now off the floor, other than the big roll of plastic sheeting still leaned against the corner, and a long green garden hose, all wound up in a pile on the floor. Graysie said to carry that out to the barn. It was too big to fit into the space they had left.

  He eyeballed the rest of the stuff. Lots of things he didn’t understand. One box had a picture of a stove, with a pot filled with food. Did the box have a stove in it? Or was it a box of pots? Or was it that food on the picture? Because that food looked really good and Puck wanted to eat it.

  But Graysie kept saying, not now, Puck, and went too fast for his questions. She had no time for him now. She wanted to get back to the Littles.

  He’d found funny white suits in one box with silver tape and face masks. He’d stepped into a suit and held a mask over his face, but it had scared Briar and Brody so badly that they’d run upstairs. Graysie got mad at him and made him take if off. She didn’t want to play dress-up.

  She was no fun anymore.

  She did explain the portable toilet, and it made him laugh, thinking of GrayMan sitting on it to poop. He’d look pretty silly.

  Graysie said they were supposed to be working. To stop playing. So he helped blow up two mattresses, and now his head felt woozy. Elmer’s mattress lay just a few feet away from his, separated by a small table holding a lantern. Both were the same, with a sheet, a blanket and a pillow, but Elmer’s bed was special.

  Puck had found a ragged, old teddy bear in Graysie’s closet and put it on his pillow.

  He knew Elmer was still sad, and he’d told Puck that he’d lay down there but couldn’t promise he’d sleep much. He explained that he hadn’t slept alone in a bed, without his wife, for more years than Puck was alive.

  Elmer was old…

  Puck hoped he would name his new bear, ‘Edith,’ or maybe “Edie.”

  Now he was pouting that Graysie had said no to his best idea. Even though he’d said after they were done working…she still said no. He’d wanted to unroll the big roll of plastic, and squirt some soap on it and make a slide for all of them to play on. Briar and Brody would like that, he just knew it. But Graysie said GrayMan would get mad because it was prepping stuff, and he probably had a plan for it, and she said they couldn’t waste the soap either.

  Briar and Brody didn’t want to play with him anyway. It made Puck sad. They looked at him funny. They were afraid of him. Graysie said to not stand over them too close. She said to them, he looked like a giant. So he got down on his knees to talk to them, but they still looked at him funny. He wasn’t gonna hurt them. He only wanted to have fun and share his new family with them, but they just didn’t like him.

  And, they were stealing all Graysie and Olivia’s time.

  Graysie was upstairs with them right now, telling them more stories, and reading them books while the grownups worked outside. Puck didn’t want to listen anymore. Graysie had already read him all those stories over and over before the Littles came. Every story was the same.

  The hero.

  All they wanted to hear about was how brave the hero was.

  Like he hadn’t been yesterday.

  He gathered up the garden hose and carried it up the narrow basement stairs, passing them once again as he went outside. He sighed, and threw a begrudged look over his shoulder at the two of them cuddled beside Graysie on the couch, smiling and pointing at the pictures in a book, while she read.

  He stepped onto the porch and looked around the farm. It was a flurry of activity. GrayMan said it was even more important to get the farm ready.

  But ready for what? Puck thought.

  Tina and Tarra were digging holes in the front yard. Olivia and Gabby had on silly, thick gloves and were replanting pokey things under a window, and Elmer was driving the tractor, carrying a huge load of downed trees toward the road.

  Ozzie ran up and dropped a tennis ball at his feet, grinning from ear to ear at Puck’s arrival. Puck rubbed the dog’s head and threw the ball, having to juggle the hose against chest to do it. It didn’t go far, and Ozzie brought it right back.

  “Sorry, boy. Today’s a work-day…” Puck mumbled. He hurried over to Tina and Tarra, with Ozzie on his heels. “I want to do something brave,” he blurted out to the two ladies.

  They stopped digging and exchanged a raised brow.

  Tina leaned on her shovel. “Like what, Puck?”

  “I don’t know. Something really brave.”

  She shrugged. “I think you were brave when you protected everyone from those bad guys here. You were very brave then.” Tina stabbed the shovel into the dirt, continuing her project.

  “But everybody already forgot that. I need to do something else. I want to be a hero.”

  Puck stomped his foot, and Ozzie dropped his ball, looking up at the boy with pleading eyes. Puck scooted the ball over with his foot, giving the dog a silent no. He didn’t want to admit it, but his hand really did hurt. He didn’t feel like throwing a ball today.

  Tarra crawled out of the fox hole and leaned against her own shovel. “That’s not true. No one will ever forget your bravery that day. See, we remembered. Right? You’ll always be a brave hero after that. So how about being a helpful hero now? Lo
ts of work going on here today…”

  Puck screwed his lips to the side in thought. “I was helpful. I helped Graysie clean up the basement. I want to be brave now.”

  Tina looked over her shoulder at him. “How about being more helpful today then, instead of brave? We’re all tired. You’re strong. Find something to do to help. You can be brave another day.”

  “Okay. Can I dig holes, too?”

  Tarra gave Puck a warm smile, swiping a forearm over her face to wipe at the dirt and sweat. She looked at his sling, still supporting his injured hand. “It takes two hands to shovel, Puck, and you just lost a finger. Olivia is not going to let you dig with that hand. Go ask her if you can help with something else.”

  Puck hurried around the corner of the house, Ozzie on his heels, to find Olivia and Gabby. They were on their knees under the living room window, tamping down the ground around a Prickly Pear Cactus with big leather gloves.

  “Olivia, can I be helpful to you and Gabby today?” he asked, his eager face full of hope.

  Gabby and Olivia exchanged curious glances.

  Olivia shaded her eyes, and tilted her head, looking up at him. “No, Puck. I’m sorry, but these things hurt when they poke you. They can cause infection, too. You have to work on getting well again before you can help with stuff like this. What are you doing with that hose?”

  Puck’s lip poked out and he looked around for Grayson, his eyes squinted against the sun. “Taking it to the barn. Graysie said to. Where’s GrayMan? Can I help him with something?”

  Olivia shook her head. “Grayson and Jake are cutting down trees. I don’t want you near them. It’s too dangerous for you, and them. They can’t watch you and the blades, too.”

  She looked around the farm for something for Puck to do. There was a trail of brush, branches and deadfall that followed the tractor’s trail from the woods to the road. She pointed at it. “See that stuff on the ground? That’s the stuff that fell off the trees Elmer is hauling. All of it has to be gathered up. I don’t know where they want it, so for now, just stack it up on the burn spot. If he doesn’t need it for the camouflage project they’re doing, we can burn it later. That’ll help him to have it in one place.”