“Cora and John,” he said quietly. Then, lifting his voice, “Anyone seen Cora and John?”
A murmur started up in the crowd as the townspeople frowned and started turning to each other, trying to figure out when they’d last seen either of the young people. Alice was frowning as well, muttering to herself, and even Greyson looked as if he couldn’t place the last time he might have seen the couple.
Finally, after letting everyone mull it over for several minutes, Garrett spoke again.
“I’m guessing they were here during the packing, but no one saw them at the schoolhouse for dinner. And I’m guessing no one can pinpoint them even having walked to the schoolhouse with you. Am I right?”
His only answer was an awkward silence—and then a sudden burst of speaking and yelling.
“How could they do this?” one woman asked sharply. “Take all our things? What gives them the right?”
“John was right there at the front of the line, helping me load things!” another man shouted out. “He knew exactly what was in that truck—and how important it was!”
Soon the individual statements and questions were lost in a growing crescendo of sound, the people getting more and more worked up at what they saw—correctly—as a betrayal by people who had been friends, and Garrett put his hands up to quiet them.
“Are you all sure that you didn’t see them at dinner?” he asked. “Sure that they didn’t say they were going back to their house, or something like that? Let’s not cast them as guilty until we know for sure that we haven’t just missed them.”
A deafening silence reigned, and he turned to Manny. “Manny, get to their house and make sure they’re not in there. Greyson, cover the schoolhouse. Maybe they were just late going to dinner. Get back here as quickly as you can. I want to know if they’re actually gone.”
“Not that it’ll make any difference,” Alice noted quietly as they watched the two men dart out the door. She cast a glance up at Garrett, meeting his eyes. “It doesn’t matter if it was Cora and John or someone else. All that matters is that our only vehicle—and more than half of our supplies—just disappeared.”
“Maybe they were kidnapped,” Kristy said again.
She had been close with Cora, Garrett remembered, and didn’t want to admit that her friend might have done something like this—though Kristy herself stood to suffer the most as a consequence. Six months pregnant and already ungainly on her feet, there was no way she’d be able to make the trek to another town. The lack of vehicle meant she was stuck here, come hell or high water.
“By who?” Alice snapped. “Kristy, I know you want to give Cora the benefit of the doubt here, but who do you think would have come in and taken them?”
“The men from Helen Falls?” Kristy said quickly. “What if they came in, intent to hurt us, and Cora and John happened to be here at the time? What if they got caught up in something the bikers were already going to do? We hurt them by keeping the tanker, so it makes sense that they would try to hurt us back.”
“It does make sense,” Garrett said, walking up and grasping Kristy by the shoulder.
The bikers would most certainly have been looking for vengeance for the tanker, and this would have been the perfect way to get it. It didn’t even matter how they would have known that Garrett and the townspeople were packing up and getting ready to leave; the fact that they’d known, and had found all the supplies gathered in one place, would have been enough. Throw in two members of the town and it would have been a celebration for the bikers. It would also account for the loss of the couple.
Looking around, though, he could see that not everyone was so willing to give Cora and John the benefit of the doubt. Greyson was shaking his head firmly.
“I don’t see it,” he said. “If it was the bikers, they would have made a lot more noise, and a lot more trouble. Subtlety isn’t exactly their MO.”
And therein lay the problem with Kristy’s idea, Garrett thought. The bikers most definitely would have made more trouble if they’d been in town.
“After what we did in Helen Falls, they would have come in with guns blazing,” he agreed. “And it doesn’t really matter, regardless. Whether Cora and John left of their own accord or were kidnapped, the outcome is the same. Our one vehicle is gone, and most of our supplies are gone as well. Which means we’re not equipped to go traipsing around in the desert. We’re going to have to call our plan off.”
And do what? he wondered, as he watched the faces around him grow angrier. Everyone had been on board with the idea of leaving—well, everyone but Steve—and now that rug was suddenly being pulled out from under them. That hope was being yanked away from them. What could he replace it with?
His mind started rushing through the possibilities, but he felt just as lost as the rest of them. This had been his plan, and in the few hours since the disaster at Helen Falls, Garrett hadn’t had time to think of anything even remotely resembling a backup plan. This is already was the backup plan.
Still, the people were counting on him. He was still the leader here. So he started talking—not knowing what he was going to say until he said it.
He held his hands up and gestured for quiet. “I know what you’re feeling. Believe me, I’m feeling it too. But we can’t give up now. Things have changed, sure, but that doesn’t mean we just throw in the towel. Doesn’t mean we let them win. Does it? Anyone in here just want to let those bikers win?”
A pause, and Garrett got the sense that the people were starting to redirect their anger from Cora and John toward the bikers—the more solid enemies. The people who actually wanted to harm the inhabitants of this town.
There were murmurings of agreement and a few shouts of “Not on my watch!”
Garrett allowed himself a grim smile.
“Not on my watch, indeed. I didn’t want to stay here, you all know that. But this is our town. Our town. And as long as we’re stuck here, I say we make sure we can protect it, and protect ourselves! Those bikers might think they can just come in here and have their way with us. But what do they know? They certainly don’t know how strong the people of this town are. They don’t know that we’ll fight to the death for one another! And they don’t know that we’ll go to the ends of the earth to protect what’s ours!”
The people were cheering now, and Garrett had to stop and shake himself in surprise. He didn’t know where the words were coming from—most likely from that whiskey, he thought darkly—but he did now have a plan. A plan that had come to him while he was speaking—and a plan that he thought might just work.
“So what are we going to do?” he asked.
The words dropped into a heavy silence, and he knew that though the people were riled up, they weren’t exactly full of ideas. It was on him to come up with something, and quickly.
“I say we shore up our defenses here,” he started. “We make sure we can defend ourselves against whatever is about to happen. We know there isn’t much left around here to scavenge, so we’re going to have to cut back on our food and water, but that doesn’t mean we give up. Helen Falls has plenty of food and water. They must, for all those bikers to be living there. I say we wait here for the attack we know is coming, and when it does, we bring them down to our level—and then reap the benefits of the victory!”
A roar erupted from the crowd, people jumping up and down and pumping their fists in what could only be called patriotic furor, and Garrett took a couple steps back, breathing hard. He came up against Alice, and cast a glance over his shoulder to see her lifting one eyebrow in speculation.
“Never knew you were such a rabble-rouser,” she said quietly. “Think it’ll work?”
Garrett paused a beat, trying to get his thoughts in order. “Whether it works or not, it’ll give them something to think about. Keep them from giving up. I don’t know how much stock I put in it, really. Our supplies are almost all gone. We don’t know if we have any water left at all. Don’t know whether we can last. Don’t know whether
the bikers will actually attack—or whether we can beat them. No vehicles to use for scavenging other towns anymore. Do we really have anything left to fight for?”
Alice reached out and brushed his hand with her fingers. Just a slight touch, and then it was gone.
“Each other,” she answered. “We have each other left to fight for.”
Chapter 4
“Bet you’re glad now that I said the people walking should carry the weapons, rather than them being packed in the truck,” Garrett noted quietly to Alice as they watched the men of the town carrying the large array of rifles, handguns, and bullets out of the schoolhouse.
They didn’t have anything large—no bazookas or anything like that—but they had picked up what he estimated to be thirty different weapons, of one sort or another, during their scavenging missions. Handguns, rifles, ARs, and even—surprisingly—two modern bows, completely with quivers full of arrows.
Of course the bows weren’t the easiest things to use, and though as a community they’d spent hours and hours practicing, Greyson was still the only one who had a prayer of hitting anything with them. That didn’t mean they were going to be left behind. Garrett didn’t want any weapons in a place where the bikers might be able to get a hold of them. Greyson would take one of the bows and both quivers of arrows.
And Garrett was counting on him to do as much damage as possible with them.
There were also a good number of flash grenades left over, and several sticks of dynamite.
“The dynamite will go to both ends of Main Street,” Garrett instructed the group of people in front of him. “I want the biggest explosions to happen at the largest openings into town. Don’t light them yet, obviously, but grab as much furniture as you can from the houses and pile it up in the middle of the road, then attach several sticks of dynamite to it. I want the largest possible explosion with the smallest possible effort.”
“And between the houses?” Manny asked.
“More furniture,” Garrett said quickly. “Pile it up in any open space. We don’t need it in the houses, do we?”
He paused to give the crowd a chance to reply and was rewarded with a chorus of “No!”
With a nod, he continued. “Then use everything you need to block the space between the houses. It might not keep the bikers from getting in, but it’ll sure give them something to think about, am I right? Give them something to slow them down?”
Another round of cheers, and Garrett almost smiled. These were the people he was fighting for. This was why he was willing to risk his own life to make sure that this town stayed safe.
He reached out and grabbed Manny’s arm before the man could leave to start gathering furniture.
“And Manny,” he added. “You’re a man of many talents. I’m sure you’ve got a few tricks up your sleeve from your time in the military, right?” A quick nod from Manny was all he needed to encourage him to continue. “Terrific. Use them. I don’t think we need to do more than slow the bikers down, but if you could find a way to include a trap or two…”
Manny gave him another quick nod, and Garrett appreciated once again the man’s ability to communicate so much with so few words.
“Something simple,” he agreed. “Something they won’t be looking for. Like covered pits, perhaps?”
Garrett grinned. “That sounds like just the ticket. Let me know what you need to get it done.”
He watched as Manny, Ben, and several of the other men ran off to start gathering furniture and setting traps, and then turned to the people left before him.
“The rest of you, let’s start gathering the old vehicles we have sitting around here. They’re no good for anything, but they’ll provide valuable blockades if we place them on the smaller roads into town. Use whatever you can find to block them off, and don’t block them only where they hit the edge of town. Give me blockades throughout town, too—anything that will slow those bikers down if they get in.”
“What about the weapons?” Elisa asked.
Garrett paused at that, thinking. Did he want them spread out, so people could get to them easily? Or did he want them assigned to each person, so that they had them in hand if anything happened?
Alice, who was almost always in step with him, answered before he could say anything.
“Those will be assigned after we’ve got the blockades built,” she said. “Too risky to leave them sitting around town. If the bikers get in before we know about it, they could find our guns and use them against us. Better and safer if we assign each weapon to a person, and then trust that person not to let it out of their sight.”
Garrett gave her a sharp nod. “I agree.” Turning to Elisa and the others, he said, “We’ll keep them here for the moment. Once we’ve got the defenses set up, we’ll figure out who gets what, and what our plan of action is going to be if—and when—those bikers make the mistake of coming here.”
The rest of the townspeople scuttled off, talking among themselves about the locations where they wanted to set up blockades, and Alice drew closer to Garrett.
“And us, Cap?” she asked quietly. “You’ve given everyone else a task. What are we going to do?”
“Get out there and help wherever we’re needed,” he returned. “I want this town as fortified as it can be before night falls. When we go to sleep tonight, I want to know that our defenses are strong. I don’t know when those bikers are going to make their play, but I’m sure it’s coming. We have to be secure when it happens.”
Alice didn’t answer. She merely nodded and took three steps forward, not bothering to wait for Garrett. He didn’t hesitate either; his people were out there getting ready for the attack he knew was coming, and they needed more than just his words to help them. As long as he had a set of hands and a strong back, he meant to be in the thick of it, making sure they were ready for anything.
The next three hours were both a blur of action and a long, dragging exercise in overexertion as Garrett helped to push and pull vehicles from the parking lots and driveways of the small town to the edges, where they would make up the barricade. Trinity Ranch had never played home to that many people, small as it was, but there was at least one vehicle to each household. The cars were all dead now, of course, so they couldn’t drive them to their new locations. That didn’t mean they weren’t going to play a part.
Garrett jumped into a fairly new sedan, took off the emergency brake, and then got out of the car, gesturing to Shawnee to take his place.
“Grab the wheel and make sure we’re going in the right direction,” he told the boy. “We need the end of Ash Street, right where it hits the desert between the old market and the building next to it. You know the place?”
The boy nodded, his eyes overly large, and wrapped his hands around the steering wheel. Garrett paused for long enough to see that the kid’s knuckles were white with tension.
“You don’t need to strangle the steering wheel,” he said with a grin. “Just make sure we get to the right spot.”
The boy smiled at him, embarrassed, and then Garrett was striding back toward the rear bumper, where Greyson was already hunched down.
“Ready?” Greyson asked.
Garrett wiped a hand across his brow, knowing that he was leaving a grease smear on his face—and not caring. This was the fourth car he’d helped to move, and his energy was dwindling.
“Ready as I’m going to get,” he answered.
Greyson chuckled. “Don’t think any of these cars were meant to be pushed by two men, and on roads that are more dirt than asphalt at this point.”
Garrett ducked down and put his shoulder to the back of the car. “Agreed,” he murmured. “But we just can’t spare anyone else. This has to be done before dark falls or we’re going to spend a long, sleepless night staring out our windows. You ready?”
“Something tells me we’re going to be doing that anyhow,” Greyson grunted. Still, he put both hands on the back of the car and leaned into it. “But let’s do this. On my
count. One. Two. Three.”
The two men lunged forward, grunting, and the car started a slow roll down the driveway and toward the main street. In the driver’s seat, Shawnee started madly turning the wheel, and the car slowly rounded the turn toward the right, heading toward Ash. Unfortunately, the moment they hit the main road, they also hit about half an inch of sand, which had blown in over time and now covered the roads.
Garrett and Greyson both ducked down and shoved harder, all their energy on the task at hand, and didn’t talk any more.
By the time night was starting to fall, the people had managed to get almost everything on Garrett’s checklist finished. Manny had reported back to tell Garrett that they’d built barricades—with explosives—in three different places, as well as digging several pits, which they then covered with brush.
“It’s not subtle, and it’s not sexy, but it’ll get the job done,” the man said, nodding his head.
Garrett had clapped his hand down on Manny’s shoulder and said that he was certain it was perfect.
He’d then heard reports from several others. Furniture had been toted down from all the houses and piled in the spaces between buildings. Further explosives had been set up on some of the larger piles. Cars had been pushed, pulled, and manhandled into position on the smaller streets and throughout the town, and Garrett himself had seen the fruits of that particular labor. The neighborhoods were free of cars, for the most part, and the town felt more like a fortified military base than a small New Mexico town. He’d sent Greyson and Shane to the front of town as the first watch.
He looked around at the people with him and gave them all a smile and a raised fist of solidarity.
“Well done, gang,” he said brightly. “I know you’re all tired, but now that the defenses are laid, we can all go home and breathe a bit easier. I feel sorry for those bikers. If they think they’ve got an easy target in this town, they’ve got another thing coming!”
At Any Cost (Book 3): Bleak Horizons Page 3
