EMP Catastrophe Box Set | Books 1-3
Author: Hamilton, Grace
Date: 2021-07-17 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Post-Apocalyptic | EMP

EMP Catastrophe

Erupting Trouble

Erupting Danger

Erupting Chaos

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

RELAY PUBLISHING EDITION, JULY 2021

Copyright © 2021 Relay Publishing Ltd.

All rights reserved. Published in the United Kingdom by Relay Publishing. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Grace Hamilton is a pen name created by Relay Publishing for co-authored Post-Apocalyptic projects. Relay Publishing works with incredible teams of writers and editors to collaboratively create the very best stories for our readers.

www.relaypub.com

Contents

Erupting Trouble

Blurb

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

End of Erupting Trouble

Erupting Danger

Blurb

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Epilogue

End of Erupting Danger

Erupting Chaos

Blurb

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

End of Erupting Chaos

Thank you

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About Grace Hamilton

Sneak Peek: Emerging Chaos

Also By Grace Hamilton

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Blurb

A father with a heart problem and a son determined to get him home…

Matthew Riley wants to believe that people will come together in times of great struggle, but as panic and chaos set in after a massive EMP event, he has to face the fact that the only people he can trust are his family. His ailing father, David, an Army vet, has the skills the Riley family needs to survive in the dark new world, but with no medication for his heart condition on hand, keeping him alive may be an impossible task as they journey home from what was supposed to be a simple day trip.

She’ll keep her daughter safe and reunite her family…

Kathleen doesn’t share her husband’s optimistic view of humanity. When the power goes out during a visit to her brother in prison, she and her teenage daughter will need to find their way out and start the long journey back to Galena, IL, in the hope they can reunite with the rest of their family.

They’ll defend their home…

With the rest of the Riley family gone, it’s up to Ruth and her grandson, Patton, to keep their newly renovated hotel safe for the family they know is coming their way. But food is running low and some see an elderly woman and a pre-teen boy as easy pickings.

In a broken civilization the only way to survive is strength in numbers. One family is determined to work together in this new world, but will they be able to defend themselves against desperate survivors?

1

From his spot in the cashier’s line of Wilson’s Antiques, Matthew Riley smiled at the gorgeous expanse of blue sky that he could see outside the shop’s windows. It was turning out to be a beautiful day, and not just because of the spring Wisconsin weather: he’d junk-hunted through rickety wooden chairs and strange metal plush seats from the ’60s, and had found the perfect set of green velvet chairs. They’d be perfect decor for the hotel's summertime grand opening. Even his daughter, Allison, would think them retro-cool instead of outdated-gross. The ticket to claim and purchase rested in his palm.

“If this line moves any slower, I might keel over,” David grumbled beside him. His father wasn’t wrong—it seemed a lot of people had the same idea of taking advantage of the weather to hunt for trash turned to treasure. They were near the back of the line, and up ahead, the cashier was doing her best to keep the line moving.

“We have nowhere else to be,” Matthew told his father. “You can consider this mission a success. We found everything we came for here.”

“And some things we didn’t expect to find. What is this thing, anyway?” David asked, gesturing to the items in the basket Matthew held.

“It’s an old-timey coffee grinder,” Matthew said.

“Could just buy a new one,” David responded, peering at the squat wooden box with a rotating handle. “Looks like a Jack in the Box. Remember those toys?”

“It’s about the aesthetic. The River Rock Hotel is a mountain resort, and that’s what our guests will expect. We won’t use it, but doesn’t it look cool? People will imagine what it was like, exploring the mountains and finding ways to get their morning joe while watching the sun come over the mountain.”

“Should’ve kept my coffee grinder from when I was a young man. It might not have had the same aesthetic, but at least it worked and looked old. You could’ve used that for free instead of paying twenty bucks for something that cost fifty cents back in the day.”

“Fifty cents might’ve been the same amount as twenty bucks,” Matthew said. The lights above flickered, almost as if someone was playing with the light switch. “It’s called inflation, Dad.”

David snorted a laugh. His blue eyes crinkled in amusement. The lights continued to stutter, casting a dim flickering glow over the customers. Then, with a sudden bright surge like the bulbs had been pushed to their max, the store fell into darkness. Around him, the customers in line groaned.

“Sorry, folks,” the cashier said in a loud voice. “Looks like we lost power, again.”

A collective groan rose louder than the first.

“We’ll just wait for it to kick back on, and then we’d be happy to give you all a 10% discount for your patience and understanding,” the cashier finished. She pushed straggling hair off her forehead and had the look of a rabbit caught in a trap.

“I can’t wait for you to get your store back in order," one woman near the front said. "You should be prepared for this. It’s Madison, for goodness sake. The electricity is always unreliable in the spring.”

“It figures,” a young man said to his friend just in front of Matthew. “These kinds of shops aren’t investing in tech or updating their contingency plans in case something happens. Something like this could send them under. You need to take steps to ensure you aren’t losing your customer base just because the electricity goes out. The winter ice must've done a number on their infrastructure.”

Some of the customers rolled their eyes and pulled out their phones as the grumbling continued, and Matthew sighed, wondering if he should speak up. He understood why everyone was frustrated—the world was a hustle-and-bustle kind of economy, where listless time meant money lost or accomplishments not achieved. Still, the poor cashier looked flushed and stressed, and Matthew tended to have a strong, soothing personality. If everyone just understood that they were in the same boat, things would calm down. Matthew had found, over his years, that people had good hearts that got lost underneath the go-go-go life they all lived. Sometimes it just took a little nudge for everyone to remember that goodness. He opened his mouth.

“Don’t even think about it,” David said under his breath to him. Matthew gave his father an irritated, if fond, look. The two of them were so similar, yet their experiences had shaped them into two very different men.

“I wasn’t going to do anything,” Matthew said, but even he could hear the lie in his voice. “While we’re waiting, I’ll check in on Kathleen.” He pulled out his phone and dialed his wife, wanting to keep her abreast of the situation. She'd been on his mind all morning. He knew today would be hard on her.

“She’s inside a prison,” David said to him gently. “I bet neither she nor Allison can answer. Especially during visitation hours.”

Matthew kept the phone to his ear, but he couldn’t hear anything. The phone was eerily silent. He ended the call with a frown. His battery was fully charged. Why wouldn’t the call go through? “It’s not that. The call doesn’t even go anywhere.”

David shrugged, even as he pulled out his much older cell phone. “This old building probably has too much concrete blocking the signal, plus the electricity is out. Maybe a tower’s down. I don’t have signal either.”

“It’s all right. I just wanted to check in with her. It’s tough for her, seeing her brother locked up. I feel bad not being there with her.”

“You can’t be in two places at once. She’ll be all right,” David said. “Plus, the hotel is like having another child. You were needed here.”

Matthew swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, steering the conversation back into familiar territory with a joke. “At least it’s a child we’re raising together.”

“The most time-consuming money-sink of a child I've ever had."

Matthew smirked, knowing his father liked to pretend the hotel hadn't given him some purpose in his retirement years. "You fuss over the place more than I do."

"Never thought I’d be a retiree,” David mused and scratched at his temple. He had the same sandy-blonde hair as Matthew, only his was cut military style and had been for decades. “In all honesty, opening this hotel together will be as good for me as it is for you.”

“It’s been Kathleen’s and my dream for a while now. It’s about time we took the steps to make it happen. I'm glad you and Mom decided to be part of that dream too.” Matthew paused. “I know we told Mom we’d be back early this afternoon to help her and Patton clean up the rooms, but they’ll understand why we might be late.”

David grinned. “Patton’s probably driving Ruth up the wall.”

“Hey, he elected to stay behind and help clean.” Matthew held his hands up, palms out. “Sometimes I don’t understand that child of mine. I wouldn’t be caught dead having to clean, especially on a nice day like this.”

"Oh yeah, as opposed to shopping, which has always been something boys enjoy."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny."

Up ahead, the cashier held her hands around her mouth. “Hi there, valuable customers! Since the power doesn’t seem like it’s coming back on right away, we are going to ring out customers with cash purchases only. If you have a cash purchase, please form a new line to the right.”

“Are you serious?” the woman near the front yelled. She walked out of line and around the numerous displays, leaving her pile of things in the middle of the store. “You’ve just lost my business.”

“I’m with that lady,” another man seconded, and abandoned his items.

"I'd be more than happy to put your purchases on hold until tomorrow," the cashier said, her face crumbled with distress.

"You think I'd ever come back to a mismanaged establishment like this?" The bell above the door jingled as the woman stormed out.

“That’s uncalled for,” David said, his gruff voice low. “No need to be rude.”

“They’re just frustrated.” Matthew released a sigh and looked down to his basket. “I don’t have much cash on me. Not enough to get the chairs, that’s for sure.”

David bit his lip as most of the customers left their items strewn about the store or dumped on displays. “Maybe we should come back when things aren’t so hostile.”

“Yeah, this poor lady has enough to deal with. Let’s go put our things back. The furniture hasn’t been pulled yet.” Matthew ran a hand through his short, wavy hair, and placed the coffee grinder back on the shelf.

He turned a watchful eye on his father, who was placing a few art deco hinges and doorknobs back, and searched for any signs of distress. It had been a couple of hours, after all.

“This whole thing has been a bust,” he said to David. “Feel like heading home? We can try again another day.” He shouldn’t push his father to keep going and explore the other antique shops in Madison.

“You read my mind.” David rubbed his gnarled hands together as if to warm them. His eyes skittered around the shop, always taking in his surroundings. Old habits died hard. Matthew nodded, and together they walked out into the bright sunny day.

The warmth hit Matthew’s face, dispelling his worry over his wife and daughter. It was hard to be upset on a day like today. Together, David and Matthew headed to Matthew’s silver truck—a couple years old, but still up to date. They hopped in the truck’s cab, and Matthew clipped his seatbelt before reaching to start the car by hitting the button.

Usually, a green light flashed at him when the car started up and his phone connected to the Bluetooth. Now, the light flashed yellow. With a frown, he pulled out the key fob from his pocket and held the angular piece to the button. The button flashed green, indicating the key was near, but when Matthew tried to turn the car on, nothing happened. “C’mon,” Matthew said, pressing the button again. “You have to be kidding me.”

“I’ll go check it out.” David laughed, opening the truck door to get out.

“There’s no way,” Matthew said, holding the fob closer to the button, only now, no colored light flashed to even indicate the key was present. He didn’t hear any clicking or whirring indicating that the system knew he was in the car. He followed his father out of the cab and popped the hood.

David lifted the hood up and hooked it open. Matthew bit back the admonishment to be careful. Ever since his heart attack, his father had been sensitive to Matthew’s hovering. David poked at the looping wires bundled along the engine, checked a few things that Matthew had no idea what they did—a master’s in business did not a mechanic make.

“What’s it look like?” Matthew asked.

“I can’t see anything wrong,” David said slowly. “Probably left an interior light on that drained the battery. Happens to the best of us. You’re low on washer fluid.”

“What should we do?” Matthew looked around and saw that despite the exodus of people from the shop, a lot of cars still filled the parking lot. “Call a tow?”

“If you have signal. Honestly, we should go back inside and see if anyone can give us a jump.”

“Good idea.” Matthew smiled at his father. “I’m sure someone will help us out.”

David patted Matthew on the back, and together they turned to head back inside Wilson’s Antiques.

2

Heading back into Wilson’s Antiques was like stepping into a completely different store. Before, customers milled about, the soft tones of the oldies played through the store speakers, and everyone offered a hello or close-lipped smile when you passed them. Now, abandoned baskets clogged the walkways, items lay askew on their shelves, the music had been cut off, and people stood clustered in tight groups, all in a state of high-strung irritation. Some had their cell phones out, focused intently on the screens, asking each other if they’d turned their devices off and on.

Matthew ignored David’s anxious look and decided to approach two women talking in angry, hushed whispers to each other.

“Excuse me,” he said, and the two women glared at him through narrowed eyes. “I’m looking for some help. My truck died, and I wondered if you’d be able to help me jump it.”

“You’re not alone,” one of the women said, pushing her thick-framed glasses up her nose. “My Prius is completely dead too. I can’t even get ahold of a tow truck to help me. We can’t help you.”

“Do you have service?” her friend asked, holding her bejeweled phone out to him. For a moment, both women looked at him with hope.

Matthew shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

They turned away from him with a glare of displeasure. “Sorry,” the bejeweled-phone owner said, her tone conveying she was anything but. “Like I said, we can’t help you.”

Matthew shot David a helpless glance. He moved to ask another group, getting the same brush-off: Nope, can’t help you, sorry, too bad so sad, we don’t even have service why do you think we could help you?

Finally, he approached a cowboy standing near the cash register. He'd ask everyone in this store if he had to—at some point, he was bound to find someone with a soft spot who could help him.

“Hi, sorry to bother you,” he began, “but my truck died, and I wondered if you’d be able to help me jump it?”

The man turned to him, cowboy hat cocked over his head. “Mine, too,” he said. “Can’t get out of this godforsaken place, either. I think most everyone in here is stranded. Cars won’t start. Phones won’t work.”

Matthew hid a disappointed sigh and took a moment to really take in the scene around him. The store had the energy of an irate hornet’s nest ready to explode. Another woman looked close to tears. “I just want to get home,” she shouted to her friend. Matthew had been so focused on finding help, he hadn't really considered the oddity of everyone's electronic devices being unavailable. He shook off his unease. After all, losing power and cell service wasn't unusual. It was simply annoying.

“There’s no way this is just a power outage,” the cowboy drawled, tapping the counter with the tips of his fingers. “You’re not the only ones with car trouble. My truck won’t start, same as everyone else here. This feels like something happened, you know? Something bad.”

David sidled up close to Matthew. “I wondered that myself, actually.”

Matthew gave his father an incredulous look. He’d been suspiciously quiet as Matthew had tried to find help, growing more reserved the ruder people became. “You did?”

Uncertainty crossed David’s face. Uncertainty of Matthew. “I don’t live under a rock, Matt. The news has been talking for weeks about cyberattacks happening all over the country. Attacks that have been happening for months. Allison ranted about Facebook and the Tumbles and that tweeting website—”

“Twitter, Dad. Twitter and Tumblr.”

“—Twitter being down for days. Called it a ‘blackout day.’ She said some anonymous hacking group was responsible, trying to prove that they could easily overthrow corporations simply by overtaking their platforms. Then there was that senator who had his confidential information leaked. Patton told me how his teachers were shocked that we could see everything he’d been doing: his GPS location, his search history, tracking him through his phone use, collecting his bank information just from his finger swipes on the app. And then remember that celebrity? The gal that acted in that thriller movie? Her bank account was frozen because she hadn’t donated to some cause or other. Who's to say people like that aren’t responsible for this?”

“You think some hacker is personally making sure my car can’t start? For what? Opening a hotel business in Illinois?” Matthew scoffed and crossed his arms. International squabbles came and went. There was always something going wrong, negotiations falling through, agreements backed out on, but how did that centralize around a power outage in Madison?

The cowboy nodded in agreement with David. “I read that a lot of those cyberattacks are foreign, mainly coming from North Korea.”

“Are you serious?” the woman with the glasses asked, creeping closer to their conversation. Awe painted her voice. Matthew raised an eyebrow at her. “I had no idea that was happening. I heard about the bank freezing out accounts for no reason, but I never thought something like that would happen here! Oh my god, do you think we’re under attack?”

“We’re always under attack,” David said gravely. “This is just a war we can’t see.”

“Dad, stop scaring people.” Matthew narrowed his eyes at David, somewhat shocked his father had followed all of this when he had no idea. “I can’t imagine North Korea caring about Madison enough to mess with the power and cause an outage. They’d attack somewhere with more impact to make a statement, like Washington D.C.”

“Oh gosh, you’re probably right.” The woman in the glasses uttered a high-pitched laugh. “It’s just there have been so many outages this spring, it seems weird. Like, why can’t the electricity company get it together, you know?”

Matthew smiled tightly at her. “Losing electricity isn’t an international crisis, but we should try to stay calm and help each other out.”

David looked away, his eyebrows raised in disagreement.

“Sure,” the glasses woman said and scooted away now that the group had no further information to give.

“I’m only relaying what the news has been saying,” David said.

“Ever heard of the boy who cried wolf, Dad?” Matthew said under his breath to David. The other customers in the store had gone quiet, listening to their ongoing conversation. Matthew, noticing the attention, turned to face them, and asked in a loud voice: “Is there anybody who can help me jump my truck?”

Silence met his inquiry, followed by suspicious looks.

“Unlikely,” one young man finally said.

“Don’t look at me,” an older woman hissed and tossed her hair over her shoulder.

“No luck here, either. I already asked everyone here, and no one can help.” The cowboy shrugged an apology and shifted his attention to his useless phone, effectively ending any conversation between them.

Matthew spread his arms in frustration. David was quiet behind him, uncannily so for an Army vet who always had an order to give or a suggestion to impart. Matthew took a couple of deep breaths. He needed to stay calm. People were scared and that made them selfish. That was no excuse to let his fear and worry overwhelm him. Someone would be willing to help him, he just had to figure out who.

A door squeaked open. A balding man entered from the back room into the space behind the counter—Bill, Manager, by his nametag—and offered them a strained smile.

“I’m sorry to ask,” Matthew said, catching Bill’s attention and deciding to try one more time. “But would you mind helping me jump my truck?”

Bill paused but then walked around the counter. “Sure thing. I can take a look for you.” He smiled, making the crow’s feet deepen around his brown eyes. “Not sure I can do much, but I know my way around a car. I’ve got a voltmeter that will tell us if your battery is completely dead. I know it’s been a stressful situation for everyone here, and we’re trying to figure out what’s going on with the power as soon as we can. Where’s your truck?”

“Thank you so much,” Matthew said, relief painting his voice. People have good hearts under everything. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this. I’m just outside in the parking lot.”

“Lead the way,” Bill said and ducked back behind the counter, tucking a small machine under his arm. The digital scale looked like a Geiger counter, with small red knobs on the metal front and two different colored wires hanging off the side. Together, they left the store.

“Hey, if you get your car started let me know! I need a ride,” one of the customers shouted at him as they opened the front door, hearing the welcome bell ring. David snorted in derision.

Outside, cars still filled the parking lot, only now most of the vehicles had their hoods popped open. A few anxious owners surrounded their vehicles, in a similar state to Matthew, trying to figure out what was wrong. Uneasiness filled Matthew as he noted the jump cables extending between two cars at the far end of the lot and their owners waving their arms up and down in a clear display of an argument.

The sun felt hot and oppressive. The store was surrounded by other establishments, and Matthew could see other stranded vehicles in their parking lots. David took in a couple of deep breaths from behind him that had Matthew wanting to turn and look at him with concern, but he held back. He couldn’t start acting like a mother hen now, of all times.

"You know, you're the first person who asked me to help them nicely," Bill said as they strode across the lot. "The rest of them honestly didn't ask me to check their cars, only demanded to use my landline, but that’s out too. Can't believe how rude people have become."

"Well, we sincerely appreciate your help. My truck is just over here,” he told Bill and led him over to the silver vehicle.

Popping the hood, Bill put his hands on his knees and peered at the engine block. “You’re out of washer fluid,” he pointed out.

“Yes,” Matthew said. “Someone told me that very same thing earlier.”

“Someone smart,” David said, nudging Matthew and grinning at him. “Someone with a clear head on their shoulders.”

“Can you try and start the car for me?” Bill asked. Matthew obliged, hopping back into the car and going through the same motions from earlier when he’d discovered the car dead. Bill motioned him to come back outside, and Matthew complied. Then Bill held the wires of the voltmeter to the battery, hooking the colored wires to their associated nodes. The needle on the readout oscillated up and down. Bill made a soft sound of disapproval and then unhooked the voltmeter.

“I can’t hear your alternator,” Bill said, closing the hood with a loud thump. “I don’t think the problem is with your battery. It looks like you have some kind of charge, so theoretically you should be able to start the truck up. Usually, if the battery was out, you’d be able to hear a kind of humming.” Bill stepped back from the silver truck and crossed his arms as he continued his explanation. “This truck has got to be, what a 2017? 2018?”

Matthew nodded, feeling a ball of dread form in his stomach.

Bill nodded to himself. “Yeah. Usually, these newer cars run completely on computer software. Since you can see a battery charge, most likely the problem is with the computer system. A mechanic can simply hook up the engine to let another computer run diagnostics to pinpoint any problems. What’s going on here is something that I can’t fix. I’m sorry to have to tell you that.”

“It’s all right, I appreciate your honesty.” Matthew put his hand up to his forehead. The day had suddenly spiraled into the unknown. He needed a moment to process everything that was happening. He’d started the morning with a strong pot of coffee and a smile, excited to spend the day one-on-one with his father. Now, his truck might be busted, they hadn’t gotten the furniture for the hotel, and he couldn’t call anyone for help.

He wished he could talk with Kathleen. Hearing her sternly walk him through the facts and figures of the day would be like hearing longed-for music. She was the realist to his dreamer, and even if she didn’t know what to do in this situation, she’d be able to give him advice or help him feel better.

He had to remember he wasn’t alone. Everything that had happened was happening to everyone else—the power outage, the cars not starting—was all a collective experience. As long as he could find the good underneath the bad, the helpful within the unhelpful, he could do anything.

He took a deep breath and met eyes with his father. Bill wished him luck and headed back inside the shop. As it stood, there weren’t many options left to them. Getting home to Galena was over eighty miles—there was no way they could walk that far. They could try to call a cab, or find a bus stop, but Matthew knew little to nothing about the city’s public transportation options. They couldn’t call Ruth, who was working to make the hotel ready for opening day. They couldn't do anything.

They were, at the moment, stuck.

3

“How are you holding up in here?” Kathleen asked and reminded herself for the fourth time that she would not cry.

Max shrugged, hunched over the round table in the visitation room. His dark brown hair, usually styled and long, had a clipped, uneven look to it. “It’s not a family vacation, that’s for sure. All I do is pace and sleep and try not to get into fights. I read a lot.” He shot her a brave, if wobbly smile, his eyes darting down to Allison as if to say, Not in front of the kid, Kathy.

Kathleen followed his line of sight, glancing at her daughter. Allison kept her eyes on her painted fingernails, which picked at the edge of the concrete table. Her phone had been confiscated along with Kathleen’s keys and jewelry when they'd entered Chicago's Metropolitan Correctional Center, all to be given back when their visitation ended. That, more than anything, had made Allison's attitude plummet from compassionate and excited to sullen teenager. She’d begged to come and see her recently incarcerated uncle—but now Kathleen knew Allison’s real motivation was the chance to hang out in Chicago and see her friends before they headed back to Galena. Allison and Max had been close, once upon a time, with Allison always saying how cool Max was, how his easy smile charmed anyone. How little did they know that Kathleen’s baby brother was moving up the ranks from small-time dealer to drug mule, carrying who knows what over borders. First offense, easily caught, confession acquired, and now his easy smile looked hunted after being locked up as he awaited sentencing.

Kathleen took in a deep breath and knew she had to be strong. For however long they could stay with Max, she would be the pillar he could lean on. She could break down later, in the safety of her car.

“Do you have any idea where they might send you?” she asked, leaning close. They weren’t supposed to touch, but she let her hand fall open-palmed next to his so at least he knew she was close to him.

That shrug again. “I have no idea. It’s always last minute. One guy in the same block as me suddenly got transferred to Indiana with only a day’s warning. I’ll make sure I send a letter, though, if anything happens.”

“I’ve put money on your phone account,” Kathleen said, a balloon of worry expanding inside of her stomach. She could tell him she loved him in a million ways, but this felt like one that counted. A link to the outside. To family. “Just let me know when you need something. I know Galena is far away, but honestly, I’ll drive to you wherever you are.”

“I guess Galena is pretty far away, huh?” Allison said, picking at the table harder.

Kathleen closed her eyes. Uprooting Allison from their Chicago home in her sophomore year of high school had been a decision full of promises: more family time, an investment for all of them, a place to build their future. Still, Kathleen knew that in Allison’s mind, it was a betrayal of the highest order: making her give up her friends and activities in exchange for being the new kid in a new school.

“It’s far away for Max,” she said, her tone stern. “We’re only two hours away for you.”

Allison grunted and crossed her arms. She had the same light coloring as her father: sandy blonde hair up in a ponytail, same blue eyes narrowed in annoyance. How many times had Matthew shot her that look when they were in a fight?

“Tell me about the hotel,” Max said softly, drawing Kathleen’s attention back to him. “I want to hear all about it.”

Kathleen gave him a warm smile and spoke about how the run-down hotel was nestled in the slope of a mountain, how the sun cascaded over it in rays of white and gold, how the air smelled clean and good. She explained about the work to get the place running, how she and Matthew had invested their savings, how Ruth and David had contributed some of their retirement funds. How she’d crunched the numbers in a ledger, keeping meticulous records of profit versus loss, kept a close eye on her own personal records of hope versus expectations.

“It sounds beautiful,” Max said. “I bet Matt is excited about the whole thing. You guys have talked about doing something like that for so long.”

Kathleen faltered. “He wishes he could be here.”

Max gave her a wistful smile. “Sure, Kathy.”

“I hate it there,” Allison piped up. “It smells like a retirement home. All dust and mold. I don’t know why we didn’t invest in a high-rise in the city. That would have been a better idea, not something as far away from culture and human interaction as possible.”

Kathleen shared a look of exasperation with Max. The windowless visitation room had blank gray concrete blocks that felt like a cage, but Kathleen hoped she’d brought a spark of cheer to Max’s internment. For a moment, it almost felt like the past year hadn’t happened. Around them, other inmates and their visitors smiled and chatted happily, some wiping away tears. Above, the long industrial lights that usually sent a garish yellow glow flickered—and then suddenly went out, plunging the room into darkness.

Instinctively, Kathleen gripped her daughter’s shoulder as a ripple of fear shot through her. Around her, shouts and exclamations filled the room, paired with the sharp and authoritative tone of the observing guards. Even though they’d arrived at the prison with the sun shining brightly outside, the lack of windows in the lounge made Kathleen acutely aware of where they were, and the people they were locked in with.

“Mom?” Allison asked. “What’s happening—?”

“Keep calm, everybody,” one of the guards commanded from a corner of the room. He had the loud booming voice of someone used to giving orders. “The generator will kick on here momentarily.”

“No need to panic,” another guard added, somewhere near Kathleen’s left. She heard him yank something from his waist, followed by a mechanical device being clicked, and a button pressed repeatedly. “Things will go back to normal soon as soon as the generators start. Please be aware that we’re on temporary lockdown until then. Come in, come in, do you read me?”

“It’s true,” Max whispered from out of the darkness. “The power has been unstable lately. Lots of outages happening all the time. I think we had three last week. Don’t worry, okay?”

Kathleen swallowed hard. “Of course,” she said, still holding on to Allison’s shoulder.

“We’ve lost power,” the authoritative guard said into what must be a walkie-talkie. The click filled the air followed by the silence of waiting. “Is anyone there? Can we get a status update? Over.”

“I’m not hearing anything,” the guard closest to Kathleen whispered to his co-worker. “Not even static.”

“Are the batteries dead?”

A scoff. “Figures. Wouldn’t put it past night shift not to replace them.”

“Seriously, though. The generators will kick on within minutes. Don’t worry.”

Kathleen tightened her grip on Allison. Then, with a sudden hum of electrical surge, the industrial lights overhead flickered back on, bathing them all in an off-yellow light. A collective sigh of relief ran through the room. Kathleen blinked hard to clear her vision, saw how a shaved-bald man with a row of tattoos running up his neck was studying Max. Another man at a table kitty-corner to them had gotten close to his wife—girlfriend, maybe—and whispered into her ear.

“Phew, that’s a relief,” the authoritative guard said. Kathleen briefly glanced at him to see he wore the classic military cut that Matthew’s father tended towards. Her own dark hair, so like Max’s, sat in a braid over her shoulder. She met eyes with Max and knew he was listening intently to the guards near them.

“We’ve got to get that work order filled. These power outages can’t keep happening. Something is clearly glitching. Come in, is anyone there?"

"Just go by protocol. They'll get in contact. I'm sure there's some issue they're working out," the guard said and nudged his partner. “Pay attention. Boss-man is speaking.”

“Okay, people.” The military-inclined guard addressed the room. “This is a lockdown situation until we’ve gotten the all-clear from the higher-ups. No one in or out. I’m sorry you won’t be able to leave for the time being, but it’s protocol to keep everyone safe. Thank you for your understanding.”

Allison uttered a soft, disbelieving grunt. “Propaganda to keep us safe, they mean. You heard that guy. They don't know anything.”

“Allison, please.”

“You said we’d have time to stop and say goodbye to my friends,” Allison shot back hotly, and Kathleen wondered how long she’d been keeping that inside. “You promised.”

“I can’t control a lockdown,” Kathleen said, exasperated. “I can’t control the power going out.”

“You promised,” Allison insisted, and Kathleen sighed as Allison’s mouth pulled into a stubborn pout, and her brow furrowed. Seeing Allison’s displeasure made the voice in the back of Kathleen’s head tell her she was a bad mother for forcing her oldest out of everything she’d ever known.

“They really can’t get in contact with anyone,” Max said, almost to himself. Max reached out and touched Kathleen’s arm, then he moved to clasp her hand tightly, as if they were kids again. The table squeaked. The brush of his jumpsuit made a crinkly sound as he leaned closer to her. “Kathy,” he breathed, “you need to get out of here as fast as you can.” His eyes flickered to the shaved-bald white guy, still giving them side-eyes.

“It’s no big deal,” Kathleen said. “Allison can wait. The power will be back on soon. Don’t worry.”

His hand tightened in hers. “Kathleen, you’re not listening to me. Both you and Allison need to get out of here.”

The other prisoners and their visitors shifted around them, voices falling into sharp tight whispers. The soft rasp of static from the guard's walkie-talkie filled the air. A new kind of fear wrapped around Kathleen’s spine—one she felt when her children were out of sight, the same fear that gripped her when she heard Max had been arrested. She feared for his safety. “You’re being paranoid. Nothing is going to happen.” Even to her own ears, she sounded high-pitched with worry.

“I know you’ve lost your respect for me,” Max said, his voice still low and on-edge, “but Kathy, trust me when I say this. You know I’ve been here for over a year.”

“Of course I do,” she snapped, remembering how he’d been remanded without bail during his trial, how over that year she’d watched the bright shine of him become easily spooked and skittish. She tried not to think about what happened to people caught for drugs in prison, had kept her mind clear of all the testimonials about how terrible a place it could be, how prison reform was sorely needed. She laced her fingers through his. The guards were focused enough on trying to communicate through their devices that the touch went unnoticed.

“Well, then take my advice. Trust me here.”

“Is someone blackmailing you?” Kathleen hissed. She looked around her again, taking in the inmates focused on their visitors, some laughing, others smiling fondly. “Max, is someone threatening you?”

His answering smile looked tight and thin.

“Max, is it the guards?” The incredulity in her voice made her feel ridiculous.

“As soon as you have the chance, you take Allison and you leave here, do you understand me?”

“Max, I’m not leaving you.”

“I don’t think you have much choice in that matter,” he said, with a note of finality.

4

Ruth couldn’t hide her smile as she gazed out the window of the hotel, seeing the green-sloped mountain covered in trees bracketed by white fluffy clouds up above. Idyllic, she thought with a small sigh of pleasure. Pastoral, even. Beautiful.

She’d begun to take in moments like these when she could—small slips of suspended time where she could marvel at the beauty in everyday things. It brought a sense of peace to her, something she’d realized had been missing from her life. Ever since David’s heart attack, she’d vowed to invest herself in the moment more—whether it be one-on-one time with her grandson or admiring the hotel that would soon become part of their everyday lives.

The room was one of the bigger ones in the hotel, more a suite she’d say, with lush carpet and outdated wallpaper. Bottles of disinfectant and orange zest multi-purpose solution sat on the floor. She wiped away the dust lingering on the windowsills with a rag. The rooms had been boarded up for years, and she thought of them somewhat as time capsules, each one holding a surprise for her and twelve-year-old Patton. The first room had held a music box with gilded edges and a ballerina tottering on her spring post. The second had held a multitude of cicada carcasses, the molts old and fragile as Patton had picked them up with a wide grin and asked if bugs scared her. That child. He had the coloring of his mother, but the mischievous personality of his father. The thought that Matthew had such a close-knit family made her warm with pride.

“Grandma, check this out!” Patton yelled from the bathroom.

Ruth uttered a soft laugh. Whenever he called for her in such a fashion, she knew she wouldn’t be finding old antiques. He’d found something gross. “If it’s more dead bugs, I’m not sure I want to!” she called back to him.

“It’s not, I promise, but you gotta see this.”

She chuckled and swiped the blinds along the window, gathering the last layer of dust. Motes that escaped her rag floated in the sunlight that shone through the window. Already, the room smelled of citrus and evergreen. She walked across the room to the bathroom and stuck her head inside. “What is it?” she asked, matching Patton’s grin.

He hunched against the large jetted bathtub. His hair lay askew, the plain shorts and tee-shirt spotted with dust and dirt. He grinned, dark eyes fixed on her, and said, “Look what I found.”

Ruth scrunched her nose up in distaste at the dead mouse crumpled in the bathtub. Mouse pellets lay around it, along with ripped-up paper, material scraps, and grass. “Must’ve been making a nest,” she said. “Patton, don’t you dare touch it.”

“I won’t,” he said. “Do you think a cat got it? The neck angle looks weird!”

“Might’ve,” she admitted, “which would be good news for us—we might need a barn cat if we’re finding rodents—Patton what did I say, don’t touch it.”

“Sorry,” Patton said, in a tone that said he distinctly wasn’t. “Just looks cool, don’t you think?”

“Sure, if you like dead things,” Ruth admitted. “Get a plastic bag and pick it up, but then throw it out immediately. Don’t forget the gloves! Patton, did you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Patton said, already diving out of the bathroom to put on the stretchy gloves and gathering a couple of plastic bags.

“Told you this would be an adventure,” Ruth said, as Patton scooped the dead mouse into the bag, along with the remains of the nest. “That we weren’t just cleaning.”

“I wish Allison was here,” Patton said, an evil grin on his face. “She would’ve screamed.”

“I’m sure she’ll scream just hearing about it,” Ruth said. She reached up to swipe strands of brown and gray hair out of her face that had fallen out of the loose bun on the top of her head. “Take that out to the trash. The outside one, not the kitchen one.”

Patton nodded and scampered out of the room. Ruth chuckled and walked back into the main bedroom, checking to make sure they had bleach to clean the jetted tub. Even outdated, Ruth imagined what the place would look like given some love. Matthew had already described his vintage-inspired vision, Kathleen had given him the side-eye as she’d tallied up the cost, David had grumbled about how he was there to build things not decorate, and Ruth took in her family with tears clogging the back of her throat. She never imagined it would take nearly losing David for her to see what was really important, but now she had her eyes wide open. This hotel would be a fresh start for all of them. It gave David purpose in his retirement. It gave her the chance to spend time with her grandchildren. It gave Kathleen and Matthew the dream they'd always wanted.

Patton scurried back into the room. “All done,” he said proudly.

“Perfect,” she said, and pointed to the vacuum. “Plug that in and start cleaning.”

She expected him to complain, but Patton had the easy-going attitude rarely seen these days among the fast-moving wave of a youth obsessed with social media, new phone updates, and tech talk she barely understood. There was definitely something of herself in him. He plugged the machine into the wall, and the loud roar of the vacuum filled the room. Ruth had taught him how to vacuum with precision: ensuring he got every bit of dirt, crossing over the carpet in multiple ways, and making the old padded-down carpet tuft back up.

The vacuum's roar suddenly stopped when Patton was mid-push. Both of them looked to the outlet to see if the plug had fallen out, but it was still securely in place. Patton frowned and tried to turn the vacuum off and on again, but nothing happened. Ruth flipped the light switch with no result. Then came a sputtering whir as the vacuum suddenly roared to life. Light flooded the carved glass lights above, shining an old gold tone down on them.

“We must have lost power,” Ruth said, looking up at the flickering bulbs. “The generator must have started up.”

“Hopefully the power comes back on soon.” Patton began to vacuum again, but on his second push, the vacuum stuttered silent again. “Ugh, the generator must’ve gone out now,” he said. “It’s not starting.”

Ruth sighed. Like most things up at the hotel, the generator was on its last legs. Matthew had ordered a new one, along with other equipment that was being shipped from out of state to bring the hotel up to code and into the modern age. It wasn’t a surprise that when they lost power, the generator had died. Just an inconvenience.

“I guess you can help me in the bathroom,” she said and together, they began the process of getting rid of any remaining signs of vermin. After a while, she looked around at the newly cleaned room. It seemed to shine—as it should! Her arms ached from scrubbing, but she had the warm pride in her belly of a job well done.

“Ready for the next one?” Patton asked.

Ruth nodded. “Yes.” She flipped the bathroom light switch to check for power. Nothing happened. “We’ll come back and finish up the vacuuming once the electricity comes back on.”

Together they cleaned out another bedroom and moved on to the third, using manpower to leave the blinds dusted, the linens piled up for washing, and the countertops gleaming. Ruth was grateful that they found no more signs of mice or bugs. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and checked the power again by flipping the light switch on and off. Nothing. The power most likely would be off for a while if it hadn’t started back up by this point.

Patton gave a yawn even as Ruth felt an uneasy twinge—she knew the power could be unreliable, but as morning slid into afternoon, this felt long even to her. Her mind kept being drawn to the industrial refrigerator downstairs, the freezer, all the other things that ran off electricity that might need her attention. She hoped that the hotel's problems were due to outdated machinery rather than infrastructure—starting a business always teetered on the edge of failure. If guests complained about the electricity constantly going out, they wouldn’t be in business long. She’d keep that to herself, though—no use worrying her grandson about generators or how much it would cost to fix it when he should be focused on his schoolwork and finding more gross things to gush about. She could only imagine the cost if the walk-in freezer malfunctioned. She frowned. That was something she should check. It wasn’t a front and foremost worry—after all, those machines were built to run colder than normal freezers—but if the generator had already gone out…

“Do you feel like a break?” she asked.

“I’m starving,” he lamented, and Ruth grinned. “Me too. Let’s get a snack.”

They walked downstairs and into the kitchen. Empty black pot holders sat silently above a wide square island for food preparation. Patton slumped on a stool with his elbows on the countertop with a tired sigh. Ruth opened the pantry door, taking a look at what they could make for a quick and dirty lunch. Empty shelves stared back at her, except for a box of pasta packed on top of a box of cereal. Shutting the door, she opened the white pebbled door of the day-to-day refrigerator to find their cold goods in a similar state: milk, drinks, but otherwise barren. Thinking about the vending machines on the second floor, she knew they too were empty of candy and snacks.

She bit her lip. They’d put in a large order at the town’s only grocery store, wanting to keep their spending local, and while the grocer had been pleased with their patronage, he’d promised to send a delivery truck up the mountain in a few days once everything had gotten to him. That truck hadn’t shown up yet, even though she’d expected it around noon. There was still time, but something in the back of Ruth’s mind told her they’d be waiting much longer than expected for their supplies. Shutting the refrigerator door, she let her gut instincts lead her to the walk-in freezer. Opening it up, she expected a whoosh of frosty air to engulf her. Instead, only a half-hearted cloud floated up around her.

“Something the matter, Grandma?” Patton asked from behind her.

“Nothing at all, sweetie. Just checking on things.” She ran her finger against the freezer’s gray seal. Instead of a pliable plastic, she found the seal to be brittle and dirtied with a white, chalky material that didn’t look natural. After standing inside the freezer for more than ten seconds, she should have felt the cold air sinking into her skin. Instead, she felt only slightly chilly. That wasn’t normal.

The power had only been off for a couple of hours. These walk-in freezers should keep things cold for days, even with the power off. The fact that she hadn’t been able to see her breath, the fact that the freezer felt warmer than usual…that was bad. Really bad.

But she tried not to worry. Matthew probably knew the freezer was on the fritz. More likely that Kathleen had made note of it when they’d surveyed the hotel—her daughter-in-law was always cognizant of those kinds of things, seeing where money would be spent with her analytical mind. She’d said it enough throughout the day: if the generator had gone out, more than likely the older appliances in the hotel would be following. The freezer was just one more thing. It would be unlike Kathleen not to notice something like that.

Besides, the power would be back on soon. That was a fact she could always rely on. Even though they’d lost power multiple times in the past week, it always clicked back on. Like clockwork. She closed the freezer, keeping what cold air she could inside, and pocketed her worry until she could talk to David and Matthew. They’d be back later in the day with furniture in tow, and they could discuss it all then.

She grabbed a bowl and spoon, the cereal and milk. Sugar flakes. Some knock-off brand. She waved the box at Patton. “Not much here, sadly. How do you feel about breakfast for lunch?”

“I already had cereal this morning,” Patton mumbled.

“Sorry, kiddo. Not much else. Maybe your dad will bring you back something from the city for dinner.”

Patton perked up at that. “Fast food?”

Ruth tutted. “Junk food, more like.”

“But Grandma”—Patton licked his lips—“French fries.”

Ruth snorted a laugh and poured them each a bowl of cereal. This right here was why she’d decided to go in on this hotel idea with her husband and son. This right here. Family.

5

“Okay,” Matthew said more to himself than to his father, flattening out his hand on the hot silver metal of his truck, “let’s think about this.”

David looked at him expectantly. Matthew’s mind went blank, taking in the inert cars and their owners who had grown angrier as the morning slipped into afternoon. He’d witnessed a couple of disagreements that almost became brawls. More and more, people were abandoning their vehicles and hitting the road on foot. Matthew had never been in a situation like this before, where every reliable piece of his life suddenly fell apart. Not having transportation felt like losing a limb. Not being able to contact his mother or Kathleen gave him similar pangs. For once, he felt truly disconnected and on the heels of that, uncertain of his surroundings. “Should I try calling Kathleen again?” he suggested helplessly.

David pulled out his phone and flipped it open. “I don’t have any bars. How about you?”

Matthew did the same. “Me either. We could always just hang out here for a while. The store is nice and cool. It would get us out of the sun. Then we could try to connect with a tow truck and mechanic when everything comes back on.”

David chewed his lip, his slow response unusual, as if he was keeping something back. “We could also push the truck to the closest mechanic. Stick the truck in neutral and just steer her down the road.”

Matthew tried to keep his look of alarm off his face. Even if David sat in the driver’s seat and turned the wheel, there was no way the two of them could push the truck. Matthew was fit, sure, spending early mornings on a treadmill with his earbuds plugged in, but David was a different story. Pushing a truck across the parking lot, let alone to a mechanic who knew how far away, would definitely qualify for the list of no-no’s from his doctor.

Matthew shot his father a false smile and shook his head. He had to remember his father’s pride. “I don’t think that would work. We don’t know how far that would be, or if a mechanic is even open. Plus, Mom and Patton are out of reach. What if they have to come looking for us and we’re somewhere lost in Madison? You always told me if I got lost the best thing to do was to find a source of water and stay put.”

“That’s about the only sensible piece of advice that’s stuck with you,” David grumbled, but Matthew could see the flash of approval in his eyes.

Matthew chuckled and looked into the distance, out toward the carefully plotted trees and shrubs that kept the parking lot from being an eyesore of concrete. The sound of a running motor perked his ears up, and he turned quickly, pointing to the road just past the parking lot as an old 1970s Pontiac zoomed by at a breakneck speed.

“Looks like not all the cars are dead,” David mused as his hand came up to his chest, rubbing at the spot over his heart absentmindedly.

A zing of concern filled Matthew. “Dad, if you’re hurting, take a pill.”

The nitroglycerin pills David’s doctor prescribed were essentially relaxers for the heart. Matthew remembered that David’s doctor had tried very hard to impart the significance of the pills using layman’s terms. Essentially, a heart attack was when your heart didn’t have enough oxygen, which was delivered through the blood. The nitroglycerin pills would let the heart vessels expand, letting more blood reach his heart—important especially if David was having chest pain. A second heart attack was common, especially for the first few years, and despite David wanting to get back to his old life, he needed to take it slow if he wanted to live to a ripe old age.

“I’m fine,” David said, and then added softly, “I know I sound like a broken record, but I’d really like us to find a way home. I don’t want to be stuck out here much longer.”

Worry escalated to fear inside Matthew. His father usually took that tone when he needed something he didn’t want to admit to. Maybe he’d been feeling worse than he’d said. Matthew took a deep breath. Right. If David needed to get home, then that’s what they would do. But how? Their cell phones were dead, making calling his mom impossible. Most of the payphones had been decommissioned by the county because no one used them anymore. Even the landline from inside the antiques shop hadn’t been working. He had to let that possibility go.

Briefly, he considered leaving David with the truck to find a working car or even a tow. Even though he didn’t have enough cash to rent a used vehicle that worked, he could ask for a ride. Or they could bike back to Galena. That sounded more plausible than finding a car. Find a pawn shop, get a mountain bike with gears, and slap all the cash he had down on the counter. Wildly, he considered even pawning the truck—he could always come back for it later once they got David home—but that sounded extreme, even to him. He could even sell whatever he had on his person that would be worth something. Anything except the gold band on his left finger.

David pressed his hand over his heart again, his wince more pronounced.

Well, that killed the bike idea. His father’s wince reminded Matthew that the doctor had recommended biking only for short intervals. Long-distance biking might stress his heart rate above the light cardio level and could put David in danger. No way was Matthew going to put his father at risk in that way. Matthew couldn’t imagine what he would do if his father suddenly collapsed and they had no service to call for help; he wouldn't even know if the ambulances were running or could make it to them in time. Biking was out of the question.

If they couldn’t call his mom with a cellphone, maybe he could find another landline somewhere. A smattering of people still milled around the parking lot. Surely, one of them must have an idea or could direct him someplace that could help them leave Wilson’s Antiques’ parking lot. “Let’s go talk to someone,” he said to David, inclining his chin towards a couple deep in conversation next to their dead Mazda. The woman had colored auburn hair and long silver earrings. Her black-haired companion had sunglasses on and wore a green tee-shirt.

Matthew approached the couple with a bright smile and a wave. “Hi there,” he said. “Car trouble?”

The woman gave him a small smile. “Just like everyone else, it seems.”

“I’m Matthew,” he said, holding his hand out to shake.

“Brenda,” she said, taking his hand. “This is my husband, Jacob.”

“We were wondering if you’re locals?”

Brenda nodded. “Born and raised.”

“Do you happen to know if anyone might have a landline nearby? We’re from Galena and really need to get in touch with our family back home to let them know we’re in trouble.”

Brenda let out a sigh. “Not that I know of.”

“Cab service maybe?” Matthew asked.

“There is one a couple of miles away, but I know for a fact they only service Madison’s city limits. Galena is just too far.” She gave him an apologetic smile.

“What about a bus? Is there one that comes to this area? Usually they’re on a schedule.”

“Yeah, there is,” Jacob put in, leaning against the hood of his car. “But again, it doesn’t service outside of city limits. You could take a nice ride around Madison, take in the sights.”

Matthew nodded, ignoring Jacob's attempt at humor. Even though the couple had given him unhelpful news, at least they’d been kind. “No worries. I appreciate you letting me know. As an out-of-towner, it’s hard being somewhere I’m not too familiar with.”

“Yeah, I get that. I wish I could be more help.”

“That’s all right,” Matthew said. “Have a good day. I hope you both get home safe.”

“Thanks,” Brenda said, pushing her auburn hair behind her ear. “You too.”

Matthew and David turned away and shuffled back towards their car. A passing group of teenagers meandered by, and Matthew called out to them. “Hey, do you guys have any signal? We’re looking for a ride.”

The teenager with long blonde hair waved at him but kept walking. “Sorry, we’re walking home,” she shouted and turned back to keep up with her friends.

David shuffled back to the silver truck and relaxed against it. The sky still looked blue, but at least a couple of white clouds began to cover the beating heat. His hand rubbed at his chest, and Matthew nudged him, standing beside him.

“What do you think about walking home?” he suggested lightly, knowing it was anything but. “I think our transportation options are limited. Doesn’t look like we’ll be heading out of here anytime soon unless it’s on foot. We could try to hitch a ride.”

David looked concerned. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and Matthew noted a red flush to his cheeks, the beginning of a sunburn perhaps. “I don’t know, Matt,” he said, sounding breathless. “I know it’s not logical, but my gut doesn’t trust a lot of people that are driving around right now. We can’t find a bus or a cab to get us to Galena.”

“If we start walking, we might run into someone who can help us,” Matthew suggested. “We might see a bus or flag down a cab. I can make a compelling argument for getting us where we need to go.”

“Hitchhiking went out of style in the 1970s,” David said with a weak grin.

Please take a pill, Matthew thought. He didn’t want to keep hounding his father about his health, didn’t want to add a fight on top of the situation, but at the same time, David’s overall appearance looked wan and gray.

“Well, maybe we need to bring it back in vogue.” Matthew said. “I don’t know. Option one is we can hang out here and see what happens.”

“I hate waiting,” David said. “Waste of time.”

“Then our second option is to start heading back to Galena on foot and see what kind of help we can find along the way. Seriously though, Dad, waiting might be the best option for us, especially with, you know…”

“My heart.” David’s voice was flat.

“Right.”

“What if the power never comes back on?” he said softly, as if it was a thought he’d been mulling over all morning. “What if we can’t ever get a hold of Ruth?”

“That’s a bit nihilistic.” Matthew shook his head. David always pondered worst-case scenarios instead of looking on the bright side. “At some point, things will get turned back on. We just don’t know when.”

David took in a deep breath. “I need to go home, Matthew.”

“Okay, then we walk,” Matthew said. They’d go slow, take their time. Matthew would talk to everyone he could, look for help on every block. The outage couldn’t be that widespread. At some point, they’d find help who could either get them home or get them to a place where they could call for help. His whole life had been focused on business, but business was more than numbers and selling and profits. It was also about people: how to read them, how talk to them, how to make connections. If you put good out into the world, that good will come back to you.

He just hoped David could make it long enough for them to find the help they needed.

6

Driving from the green pastures of Galena to the concrete urbanity of Madison earlier that morning had taken Matthew just over two hours—he remembered the slow transition of the flat square farmlands to concrete sound barriers enclosing traffic—and he had sent a grateful thank you into the sky that the Riley family had moved to the country. Then, the highway had been devoid of shade but full to the brim of cars passing him as he cruised the asphalt at a speed that wouldn't have David sweating in concern. Now, standing—no, more like stranded—in the parking lot, Matthew wished with all his heart they’d stayed closer to Galena. He imagined that hot stretch of main road in a whole new light: being exposed, without water or facilities. Still, the fastest way to a destination was a straight line.

“Walking the highway would be the fastest way back.” Matthew spoke his mind as dread twisted like a snake tighter in his belly.

David nodded. “Easier, too. But dangerous.”

“All the traffic,” Matthew said. The bright flash of imagined cars rushing past him filled his mind, how roadkill smearing the pavement always made Allison screech a bit in empathy.

“But there's a good chance the cars might not be working, either,” David pointed out. “Things could be completely dead out there.”

“The cars will be working,” Matthew responded, more aggressively than he meant to. “That’s the whole point of hitting the highway. We want to find someone to pick us up and give us a ride back home.”

David’s mouth pursed as if he wanted to disagree. “We should realistically assume we’re walking all the way home, Matthew. Anything else would be foolish.”

Matthew. His father rarely called him that unless Matthew plucked the strings of David’s patience. “You know what they say about making assumptions,” Matthew shot back. They hadn’t butted heads with pettiness since Matthew was younger and single, hot-headed with independence and ready to make a name for himself. He remembered this old song and dance, how David would meticulously plan a trip and Matthew would pick at it, pinpoint its flaws, just for the hell of it. He’d grown out of it, but it seemed the inclination simply needed a bad situation to rear its head up again.

“And it looks like we are both doing it.” David glared at Matthew.

Matthew glared back. “Walking all the way back to Galena would be a nightmare.”

“That’s what we said we were going to do!”

“I meant we would walk in that direction until we found help.” Matthew sighed. Now that the idea had turned into a very possible action, it seemed ridiculous, riddled with problems and faults. He wanted to take it all back, re-think through it, especially with David's health deteriorating. “There has to be a better way,” he muttered. “I could find a bike, attach one of those bike trailers to the back—”

“I hope you’re not implying that I would be riding in the trailer,” David said, his voice low.

“We could get one of those tandem bicycles and ride together—”

“Again, I hope you’re not implying that I would be simply enjoying the views while you pedaled.”

“I could find a battery charged scooter.” Matthew nodded enthusiastically, attached to the idea. “And a sidecar.”

“Perhaps we could find a pogo stick and leap across the highway,” David snarled.

“I hear skateboarding is coming back into vogue.”

“Matthew, so help me—” David’s face suddenly collapsed, and his hand thumped against his chest as if trying to clutch his heart. His eyes screwed up in pain, and Matthew reached out, put a steadying hand against his father’s shoulder.

“Did you already take your pill?” Matthew asked, all banter disappearing. He might feel nostalgic for teenage antics, but he was a middle-aged man with a wife and two kids. The time for teasing was over. “Dad, seriously. Did you already take your pill?”

David hedged, looking slightly ashamed. “You can only take so many in a short amount of time.”

Matthew stared at him for a moment. “I’ll be plain then. Did you take a pill at all?”

David looked away from him. “I…didn’t bring them.”

“You didn’t bring them.” Matthew felt like a mockingbird, echoing back and forth.

“That’s what I said.”

“How could you not bring them?” Matthew asked, feeling the fuse on his temper burn closer and closer to an explosion.

“If I didn’t bring them, I didn’t have to take them.” David looked up at him, somewhat apologetic.

“Oh, very logical,” Matthew said sarcastically. “So logical that the veteran who always told me to be prepared forgot the very pills used to keep him alive.”

David scuffed his booted toe against the pavement. “I should be able to get through one day without them.”

“No, you shouldn’t. The whole point of them is so you don’t keel over and die. They’re supposed to help you to, you know, not have another heart attack.”

David went quiet and Matthew knew he’d hit a nerve. Matthew put a hand over his face, taking a deep breath for calm. The idea of weakness thrummed in the back of his mind, a conviction that threaded through David’s words and actions since the whole day had spiraled into something out of a terrible dream. His father was desperate to get home because he’d forgotten the pills that were responsible for keeping him alive. Weakness. His father’s heart attack had made him unable to do any strenuous activity. Weakness. His father refused to let Matthew do any of the heavy lifting because he feared it would make him look weak.

Why couldn’t David understand that surviving a heart attack wasn’t a sign of weakness? He’d pushed his body too hard. Healing took time. Just because he didn’t have the virility of a younger man, it didn’t mean he was weak. Surviving was hard. Surviving made him strong. Matthew would absolutely not let this idea of weakness be the thing that took his father away from him.

Knowing that his father had no medication with him made everything that had occurred so far on their outing take on a new perspective. Things were different now. His father’s life was at risk. He needed to find another solution to get home. Something fast and effective.

He looked around, desperate for a solution. The parking lot looked like a vehicle graveyard, the rainbow of colors twinkling glittery hues in the sunlight. Even so, most of their owners had abandoned them for shelter, or to seek a way back home. Matthew had spent all morning asking for help, to no avail. Everyone he met was in the same situation. Right now, he and David stood in the middle of an industrial center far from any residential neighborhoods, with stores which were most likely closing due to the power outages. There was no place that he could knock on a door, and beg for shelter while they figured things out. Waiting someplace wouldn’t work anymore—not without David’s pills. It was time for action.

The faint sound of a welcome bell dinged. The front door to Wilson’s Antiques opened. Matthew squinted into the sunlight, seeing the store’s owner walk out. Bill shut the door tight. A flash of keys shone from his hands. Matthew took in a deep breath. “Hang on,” he told David and walked towards the manager, ready to try again. Nothing left to lose.

“Hi there, long time no see.” Matthew flashed a winning smile at Bill. “Thanks for the help earlier.”

Bill turned to him with surprise on his face. “Still here, huh?”

“Nowhere else for two guys from Galena to go, you know?”

Bill nodded in sympathy. He finished locking the store up and slipped the keys into his pocket. “Nothing’s working inside and most of the customers have left. No power, no sales. Not much use staying open and dealing with irate customers. Not everyone is as nice as you folks.”

Matthew’s smile turned more genuine. “Yeah, there were some real characters in there earlier. Listen, I don't mean to be pushy, but we’re still stuck out here and my father’s in a bad way. Is there any way you can help me?”

“If you’d like, you can walk with me into town,” Bill offered. The light caught on his glasses and the sheen of his balding head.

“I don’t feel comfortable leaving him,” Matthew admitted.

“Fair enough. Well, tell you what,” Bill said, “I’ll keep an eye out for anyone in town who might be able to give you a ride and send them this way.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.” Matthew knew it wasn’t much, but at least it was something. With no way to contact family or help, he’d take any scrap of assistance he could.

“No problem. Good luck to you and your father. You’re good people.” Bill stuck his hand out and Matthew took it, shaking the store manager’s hand in both agreement and goodbye. Bill headed out across the parking lot, and Matthew turned, headed back toward his father.

“Says he’ll keep any eye out for anyone who can give us a ride and will send them our way,” he explained, sticking his thumb in the direction Bill went. “Offered for me to go with him, but I said no.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” David said, the guilty appearance of earlier smoothing away to a calm sort of acceptance. “That’s probably the best idea, actually. You’re fit and somewhat young—”

“Wow, thanks.”

“—you should take him up on his offer. Better yet, you should let me babysit the truck while you look for help. Start walking to Galena. Get that bike you were talking about.”

“Pogo stick still seems like my best option,” Matthew responded, even as a new kind of uneasiness washed over him. “You want me to leave you here?”

David shrugged. “Someone will come back for me. Plus, can’t leave the truck out here all by herself.”

“Oh, please.” Matthew frowned. “What if I can’t get back to you by the evening?”

Again, that shrug. “I'll sleep in the car.”

“People don’t even let their dogs sleep in their cars, nowadays.”

David rolled his eyes. “I’ll find a place to stay.”

“Where?” Matthew held his hand out wide. “There’s nothing out here but stores.”

“A twenty-four-hour gas station, then. Casino.”

“Once a casino figures out their machines aren’t coming back up, they’ll shut down just like Bill shut his store down.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

Matthew stared at his father in disbelief. Again, the veteran who always had a plan was the one who was telling his son to abandon him, to let him fend for himself. The man who’d planned their day in Madison down to the hour, researching a timetable, ensuring they were near food stations in case they got hungry. This was the guy who would figure it out.

“Absolutely not.” Matthew put his hands on his hips.

“Matt, you know you’ll be faster without me holding you up.”

Matthew rubbed his forehead in frustration. His father wasn’t wrong, but Matthew didn’t want to say it out loud. Sure, he could walk and bike faster—he’d probably be able to flag down a ride while hitchhiking since he was only one man—but everything about this whole situation made him feel alarmed. It wasn’t just the power outage and the truck not working. It was David acting lackadaisical about his own health. David, who suddenly seemed to stop caring about their well-being as a whole and only concerned himself with Matthew’s. Matthew never knew his father to be fatalistic, but this was starting to edge near a thought Matthew didn’t want to touch with a ten-foot pole.

“Well yeah, obviously,” Matthew said, fear clogging his throat, but he couldn’t outright speak the feelings rolling inside him. He couldn’t tell his father he cared for him so blatantly. That wasn’t how they did things. “But then, Dad, who’d stop me from helping every person I came across, huh? I’d barely get out of the parking lot without you. Be logical, at least.”

David snorted in a strange mixture of affection and agreement. The fear inside Matthew eased a touch. His joke had worked. Still, he heard Kathleen in the back of his mind, could picture her rolling her eyes: tell him what you really mean, Matt.

Matthew took in a deep breath and tried to take Kathleen’s advice. “I don’t think it's safe to separate right now. That happens in horror films and never seems to work.”

“I don’t watch those kinds of movies, you know that.” David sniffed.

I don’t want to take any chances, Matthew thought, but he couldn’t say that. He couldn’t say, I’m worried about you right now. He settled for saying, “And you expect me to leave you when you don’t know the first thing about Sasquatch? What did I say, Dad? Be logical.”

7

The growling coming from Matthew’s stomach caused David to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “That sounds like Sasquatch,” he said.

Sheepish, Matthew ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair and tried not to look embarrassed. “Can’t help it that Kathleen keeps me on a regular schedule.”

David let out a long-suffering sigh and looked to the sky as if searching for help. “I suppose if you’re convinced of this sticking-together plan, we should start walking and find you food.”

“Hanger is a real thing,” Matthew said with a grin and clapped his father on the back. “C’mon, old man. There was that sporting goods store not too far from here and we can get some supplies. I’m going to need new shoes if we’re walking back to Galena.” He picked his foot up and showed David his old tennis shoes, the leather scuffed and worn, the soles worn nearly smooth.

David looked over his shoulder back at the silver truck. Matthew followed his gaze, a wistfulness filling him. “She’ll be okay,” he said to David, convincing himself of it as well. “Everyone else left their vehicles here. It’s a safe area, from what I can tell. We’ll come back for her.”

David nodded and stuck his hands in his jeans pockets, turning so they walked side-by-side to the sporting goods store a couple of block department stores down. The green camo logo loomed above the painted white bricks. Matthew pushed the door open. The store smelled slightly stale and warm. Inside, customers milled around the shelves of warm sleeping bags, yoga mats, and overpriced coats with double insulation in a state of either panic or zen-calm. The lights above were out. Beside him, David seemed to relax now that they were out of the sun, and Matthew kept a weather eye on his father’s actions—looking for another hand to reach for his chest, a hitched breath of distress, anything that might indicate something was wrong.

They passed the register and a younger man in a green vest approached them with a welcoming smile pasted to his face. He had short cropped brown hair and the fitness of a runner. “Hi there. How can I help you gentlemen today?”

David gave him the courtesy of a smile. “We’re in a bit of a situation. Our car won’t start, and we need to head back home to Galena. We’re looking for any kind of transportation, but as of right now it seems like our best bet is to start walking.”

The employee nodded, listening intently. Matthew noted his name tag said Jordan and wondered why the man didn’t look more concerned. “You’re in a similar state to everyone else here, I’m afraid. I’ve had customers looking for help all day, but we’ve lost electricity, and nothing seems to be working, not even our landline phone. I’ll keep you gentlemen in mind if the cars start back up or if I meet someone who can give you a ride. Right now, though, sounds like you’re looking for hiking supplies. Long-term stuff. Finding the best stuff is something I can help you with, if you don’t mind.”

“That would be great,” Matthew chimed in and let David lead the way as Jordan helped them navigate the store.

“You’ll need boots,” Jordan said, beelining to the back near a wall of display shoes. He picked out a couple and set them in front of David and Matthew. “These ones have great tread, but since you’ll be walking on pavement, you won’t have to deal with spikes for rougher terrain.” He spoke as if it was normal for two men to come into his store with a plan to walk across state lines. Matthew tried to hide his headshake of disbelief.

“Once you pick out a boot you like—and really try them on, like jump up and down in them, bend them around—you’ll need to get lightweight packs. You don’t want to fatigue yourselves hauling weight you don’t need. You’ll also need,” and here, he held up a hand, ticking off the items off his fingers, “a solar charger with a flashlight in case you get caught out at night, a pocket knife for obvious reasons, first aid kit, refillable water canisters, none of that plastic decomposable stuff.”

“You’ve done this before,” Matthew joked, and David jabbed him with an elbow.

Jordan gave Matthew a solemn look. “You’re thinking of walking to Galena. I know you’ll be looking for help, but you should be prepared for the eventuality that you’ll have to walk all the way.”

Matthew swallowed hard. “Right.”

“Then, make sure you get a bunch of power bars. They don’t taste great, but they’ll get you through a week for sure. Lots of calories, preservable, and easy to eat on the go. It’s warm outside, so you’ll want a bandana to keep the sun and sweat out of your face. Plus, they’re nice if you need them for other purposes. You know how to get to Galena without a map?”

“We do, but it would probably be beneficial to have one just in case,” David said.

“Spot on. You’re a planning man, aren’t you? It’s always good to have one just in case you have to take an alternate route. There’re waterproof ones near the front of the store. And this is the most important item: toilet paper.”

Matthew guffawed, his laugh ringing in the store. “You can’t be serious.”

“I doubt you’ll be finding leaves to use,” Jordan said.

“We won’t need toilet paper,” Matthew said.

“Sir, I don’t mean to sound impertinent, but I’ve met a lot of people like you today. People who think I’m just an employee and don’t know what I’m talking about. They ignore my advice and come back hours later getting exactly what I told them to. I’ve bagged peaks and faced off with bears, and let me tell you, I know when to trust my gut. This power outage is unusual. This whole thing makes me feel like something bad is happening and it’s only going to get worse. I want to make sure you’re prepared for that.”

“We appreciate it,” David said holding his hand out for Jordan to shake. Jordan took it, and the two shared a moment, as if they spoke a language that Matthew hadn’t learned.

“I need to help some other customers, but please come find me if you need any more help,” Jordan said, bouncing over to another aisle.

“What a nutter,” Matthew said softly once Jordan was out of earshot. “Bagging peaks. What, does he scale a mountain a day or something? The power is out. It’s not like the world is ending.”

David didn’t say anything, testing out the hiking boots the way Jordan had instructed with a gravitas that, to Matthew, grew into the ridiculous.

“He’s got a screw loose,” Matthew reiterated, watching David’s face. David’s silence said more than anything, and it rankled to know that he sided with Jordan rather than Matthew on that issue.

Once they had a set of boots picked out, they walked through the aisles, grabbing the gear Jordan had suggested. David stuck to the list almost obsessively, picking up every item Jordan had mentioned. Even the blasted toilet paper, priced stupid-high because it was marketed toward rough-and-tough adventurers. To Matthew’s surprise, the store still had a lot of goods available, and he wondered if the other customers hadn’t been able to pay for the overpriced supplies—after all, Jordan had said nothing was working. Matthew paused, studying the day packs available, when he caught sight of Brenda and Jacob. He smiled in recognition, wondered how the couple from the parking lot had ended up here. Brenda was close to Jacob, her tone pitched in a way that spelled an argument.

“This is idiotic,” Brenda snarled as she tossed a camp stove back on the shelf. “We don’t need any of this stuff. We should just go home, instead of wasting money on dried pea soup.”

“How are we gonna get there, huh? You’re in dress flats.”

“I spent less on designer sandals than those hiking boots you’re insisting we buy,” Brenda said. “The power is out, that’s it! That’s it! If you’re so worried about the world ending, you can stay here instead of buying supplies for a short walk home.”

“It’s not just about walking home,” Jacob said, heated. “It’s that we don’t have any supplies at home. We can’t cook food on nothing, Brenda. We’re screwed if the power doesn’t come back on.”

“It’s gonna come back on. How could it not? That doesn’t even make sense! We don't live in the Stone Age!”

Matthew tried to hide a grin, recognizing their argument as one that could easily have sprouted between him and David. He made his way over to the aisle and raised his hand in a hello. David shuffled behind him, suddenly nervous, with two different power bar brands in his hands as if to test them on a set of scales. “How’s it going, you two? Looks like we’re going to all the same places today.”

Jacob gave him a disgusted look and held a hand out to stop him. “Listen, we don’t have time for you right now.”

“Whoa, I’m just asking how you’re holding up, no offense meant.” Matthew frowned. He'd only wanted to make pleasant conversation, and after Brenda and Jacob had offered to lend a hand when they were in need, he'd pinned them as good people.

“I know you’re looking to find a ride or whatever, but you’ve got to leave us alone, man. We’re none of your business.”

"Jacob." Brenda smacked her husband in the chest, looking ashamed. "Don't be such a jerk."

“Leave them alone, Matt,” David whispered from behind him. “Let it be.”

“Sorry to bother you,” Matthew said, his throat clicking as he swallowed. “Didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset,” Jacob said, his voice rising, but Matthew turned his back on the fighting couple and headed over to the sleeping bags. The interaction unsettled him with the sharpness of their tone. Their rudeness reminded him of the customers back at Wilson’s Antiques. He bit his lip, hating how he’d seen more cruelty than kindness today.

David nudged him. “Don’t let it get to you. They’re scared and nervous. Nothing new. They’re trying to figure things out, just like we are.”

“Yeah, I know. No reason to act like that, though, even in a crisis. Whatever. Do we have everything we need?” He fingered the slick red material of a sleeping bag hanging from the display, read the tag that the mummy-bag could withstand negative temperatures. Matthew frowned. It couldn’t take that long to get to Galena. Once they got on their way, he was sure they’d run across someone who could give them a ride. If worse came to worst, they could rough it for a night or two. Investing in a sleeping bag would be an additional item they didn’t need. He let his hand fall away from the material.

“Let’s check out,” David said. “We have everything here.”

The check-out stand was empty of customers, but Jordan popped his head up from behind the counter. It looked like he was stockpiling supplies behind the desk—things that looked like what he’d suggested David and Matthew invest in. He smiled as Matthew laid their goods on the counter.

Jordan used pen and paper to tally up the total, giving them a thumbs up when he applied the company’s ongoing promotional sale to reduce the total order by ten percent. Matthew laid his cash on the table, flattening the crumpled bills with a twist of anxiety. The total came to just over a hundred dollars, just about what Matthew had on hand. He swallowed hard and held the bills out to Jordan.

Jordan looked at the cash for a moment and then asked, “Do you have a credit card?”

“I thought your machines were down with the power being out,” Matthew said.

Jordan shrugged. “We have one of those old manual credit card imprinters. I can make a copy of your credit card information and clear the purchase when the power comes on.”

A sudden silence met his tone. Matthew’s heart clenched unexpectedly. “That’s…really nice of you.” He almost wanted to laugh. Put enough good out in the world and it will come back to you, sure, but it always came back in unexpected ways.

“You can’t do that,” David cut in. “Who knows when the power will come back on? We don’t take what we can’t pay for.”

Jordan laughed. “Seriously, you’ll be paying for it. With your credit card.”

“What if the power doesn’t come back on?” David challenged. “You’ll be out all that money. You might be out of a job for doing that for us.”

Jordan waved him away. “Why don’t you let me worry about my job, sir. If the power doesn’t come back on, I might be out of a job as it is. For now, I’m authorized to take your credit card number and if it doesn’t go through, the company is nationwide. We have credit protection. No harm, no foul. At least then you’ll be able to keep your cash if you get in a pinch.”

David looked at Matthew for reinforcement. “We can’t do that.”

But Matthew shook his head. He pulled his credit card out of his pocket, and watched as Jordan placed it into the old machine under a thin piece of paper glued to three different colored carbon copies. He slid the top slab over and back, producing a copy of the relevant credit card information. “There we go,” Jordan said, handing Matthew back his card and a pink slip. “You’ll need the cash if you find a ride back to Galena. Trust me on that.”

“Seriously, thank you,” Matthew said, feeling guilty he’d called the man crazy.

“Don’t think anything of it,” Jordan said. “We’ll need to help each other out in any way we can soon enough.”

Matthew couldn’t speak, but he slid his purchases into his arms and carried them outside. He felt numb but somehow validated. Stricken, honestly, at how much Jordan sounded like him. And Matthew had called him a nutter.

David knelt on the concrete and began loading the goods into their packs. Matthew helped, stuffing everything neatly into their bags and slinging one on his shoulder. He handed his father the other—he’d taken most of the weight, but he couldn’t completely stop his father from taking some of the load.

“Matthew,” David said softly, “did you put that cash in your wallet?”

“Yeah,” Matthew said.

“Stick some of it in your shoe,” David said.

Matthew didn’t want to argue, and took out the cash, gave David half. David stuffed the cash under the footbed of his new hiking boots and slipped his foot inside. Matthew followed suit with a shake of his head, feeling silly again, but realized that sometimes he had to bend a bit to others to make things easier. They had their supplies and their cash, and that was more than he thought they’d have after the trip to the store. Together, they looked out over the rise of box stores and asphalt parking lots, and began the long walk home.

8

Max’s statement shocked Kathleen, and suddenly the predatory looks of the guards and the other inmates had far more dangerous implications. Her mouth opened in fear even as her words dried up in the back of her throat. She wanted to tell Max that she’d protect him, she’d take him away from this place, she’d keep him safe—same as she would for her children or her husband—until she realized she couldn’t. Never before had that realization hit her so strongly: that Max wasn’t a man with the same freedoms as the rest of them. Allison scooted closer to her, saying, “Mom?” in a tone reserved for a much younger girl. Kathleen clapped her jaw shut and swallowed hard.

Max kept eye contact with her until one of the guards walked by, flicking the tab open and closed on his Taser holster. Flip snap, flip snap. Max looked away and pulled back from Kathleen, almost as if his previous command for her to leave had never happened. Time became a slippery thing as the guards continued to call for orders through their radios, receiving nothing but silence and static. The visitors shifted nervously, leaning both forward and away from their imprisoned loved ones. Kathleen had a selfish notion deep inside her that she didn’t belong behind these concrete walls, that she and Allison were meant to be outside in the sun, not breathing recycled air. That they were being kept against their will.

Across the room, she caught sight of a woman a bit older than Ruth—gray hair cut into a bob, turtleneck high on her thick neck, who looked up at the guards as if wanting to ask a question. Beside her sat a gangly boy looking like the spitting image of the inmate Kathleen assumed was his father, sitting across from them. The boy pushed into his grandmother’s side. She opened her trembling mouth and said in a warble, “Excuse me—”

“Excuse me,” the inmate—her son, most likely—cut in, his dark gaze directed first to his family and then up to the guard. He shifted in discomfort, his clothes sounding like paper towels being rubbed together. “We’ve been here a long time. My family needs to leave soon. Any chance one of you could check in with the warden and see what’s the holdup?”

Flip snap. Flip snap. “What did you ask me?” The guard stepped closer. Barely grown, Kathleen thought in a daze, noticing the smooth cheeks and eyes clear of crow’s feet. Barely a man.

“Didn’t we just announce we were on lockdown?” Flip snap. “Were you too busy talking to hear that no one can leave until the power comes back on?” Flip snap.

The man raised his hands in submission. “I was only asking for an update.”

“Well, here’s your update: you will be quiet and stay seated if you know what’s good for you.” Flip snap.

The inmate turned back to his family with his head down. A silence descended over the room. Hot anger built inside Kathleen. They couldn’t treat the inmates like they just treated that woman, could they? What would happen if they were stuck in here for longer? What would it be like to be...imprisoned with those guards watching you day and night? Voices slowly filtered into the room: murmurs alongside tight whispers of worry and anger. Heads came closer together. Hands clasped hands tightly. Kathleen turned to Allison. Allison studied her with wide blue eyes, similarly shocked at the poor treatment of the visitors.

Kathleen glanced at Max and grabbed his hand under the table, squeezing it tightly. He squeezed back, giving her that tight smile meant to console. “Kathy,” he began, but another visitor stood up: a younger man about Matthew’s age in a slick jersey supporting some hockey team and cargo pants. The man said, “This is ridiculous. My wife and I would like to leave now. We aren’t confined here—we have the ability to leave when we want to. C’mon, Angie.” He reached down and grasped the hand of a dark-skinned woman in a light pink shirt. He pulled her up, and together they bypassed the concrete table and headed for the exit.

Flip snap, flip snap, flipsnap, flipsnap.

The guards amassed into a line and stood in front of the exit door. Blocking it. The younger, skittish one who’d yelled at the inmate pushed the hockey-shirted man on the shoulder.

“Brady, wait—” Angie said, her voice high-pitched.

But Brady snarled at the guard only to have the guard push him in the chest with two hands—hard. Kathleen watched in slow motion as Brady stumbled back from the force and fell over, crashing to the floor with his head clocking one of the concrete table edges with a sickening thump. Angie stifled a shriek and knelt beside her husband, trying to help him up.

“Oh my god, Mom,” Allison breathed next to her.

Kathleen couldn’t see blood on Brady’s face, but he did appear loose and shell-shocked. He leaned hard into Angie. “Get back to your seat,” the guard growled at them. “Get back to your seat and sit down.”

From behind him, the militaristic guard from earlier took a step forward and said, “Power outage means lockdown. Lockdown applies to everyone, not just inmates. No more stupid antics. We can’t run the risk of losing anyone just because you think you’re entitled to leave.”

Chills crept over Kathleen’s spine. She jerked back when she felt another soft touch on her wrist. Max leaned closer to her, his eyes still trained on the guards blocking the exit. “Kathy, listen to me, okay? This whole thing is getting out of control. I want you both to get out of here as fast as you can.”

“Uncle Max, we can’t leave you here,” Allison said, sounding scared, but Max only had eyes for his sister. “Listen to me, okay? I left a secret go-bag at a building a couple of miles from here at Levi’s Warehouse. Do you remember that old store? It’s in a sketchy area of town and looks abandoned, but it’s not. Virginia is for lovers, right?”

“Sure, I remember. Why would you ever have...have a go-bag, Max?” Kathleen said, shaking off old memories and recognizing how harsh she sounded, but there was nothing she could do for it.

“I thought I might have to leave the country at one point.” He shrugged.

“You’re an idiot,” Kathleen said, heated. “The stupidest person I’ve ever known.”

“Yeah, I love you too. Now listen, for once in your life, listen to me. Anything happens? You get that go-bag, okay? And in a couple of minutes, I’m gonna get you out of here. You take that chance and make a run for it. You get out of here, and you’ll be safe.”

“Max, I swear to god if this is you exploring a savior complex—”

“Please. The cocaine drug mule has a savior complex?” He thought on it a moment. “Okay, maybe. Let me test it out. Allison, don’t do drugs.”

“You’re stupid,” Kathleen hissed. Allison snorted a laugh.

“And you’re uptight. Give Matt my love.” Max let go of her hand and then suddenly stood up. He flashed the room a smile, one of those bright winning ones that could charm a snake. “I know I’m going to sound like a broken record,” he started, “but I have to state my case. I think it would be in everyone’s best interest if the visitors were allowed to go home.”

The guards moved toward Max. Kathleen reached up to grab Max and pull him back down, but Allison reached for her hand instead. “Let him be, Mom,” she said, and it was as if her baby girl had grown up in moments, that she was looking at a woman of forty and not a teenager.

“Sit back down,” one of the guards growled, advancing on Max like a shark smelling blood.

“The power looks like it's going to be out for a while, fellas.” Max’s grin widened. He held out his hands as if making a compromise. “It really will be safer for all of us if we let our friends and family leave.”

“I said sit back down. Or did you lose your hearing?”

One of the guards lunged for Max. Max stepped up on the stool and onto the top of the table in one fluid motion, towering over everyone. His smile stayed in place as he surveyed the room. Kathleen watched the other inmates make eye contact with him for a moment—even the one she thought had been giving him the stink-eye earlier.

“It would be such a shame, wouldn’t it,” Max continued, backing up to the table’s edge as the guards approached. Allison abruptly stood up, and Kathleen, shaking, followed, wondering how she’d let herself and Allison become a barrier between the guards and Max.

“Such a shame if a riot happened with civvies inside. Big liability, I’d say. Might get all of you fired for incompetence.” Max spread his hands out wide, a politician in the making if circumstances were different. A laugh was stifled somewhere in the room. The visitor’s center had a lulling silence to it, a predatory feel.

Kathleen saw Max as a toddler when she’d pushed him around in a wagon. She saw Max as a confident teenager with a girlfriend on his elbow and his hair a wild mess as he headed out to homecoming. She saw Max now, the swagger of a leader, inciting trouble in a prison, and realized she had no idea who Max was. All her memories of him didn’t add up to this man, this moment.

“Get down if you ever want to see your family again,” the younger guard commanded.

The threat was the spark that lit up the room. As one, the other inmates stood, coalescing around the guards, their heads held high. Kathleen couldn’t breathe. Her mind had gone blank. She wondered, when push came to shove, what she would do.

She would do what Max had said. She would make a run for it.

The older military-affiliated guard let out a sigh and eased his hands off the Taser and gun holster. “You make a good point. Max, is it? We talked about not doing anything stupid earlier. This looks like a stupid mistake we could all avoid.”

Max raised his eyebrow. “You got that right.”

“Visitors, you heard the man,” the older guard said. “Please form a line and head for the exit, please. You can gather your items at the front.”

Kathleen put her arm around Allison and managed to stick her hand out and squeeze Max’s foot in goodbye. Together they headed for the exit. Angie’s soft sniffles filled her ears, her arm wrapped around Brady. As Kathleen moved away, she heard the young guard who’d pushed Brady down snarl up at Max, “You can take it to the bank that you won’t see your family for years after this stunt.”

Kathleen looked over her shoulder one last time to see Max step down off the table before the door to the visitor’s area thudded shut behind them.

* * *

Hands shaking, Kathleen took back her items and slipped on her rings. Allison studied her with the eye of a hawk, her mouth pressed into a tight line as Kathleen struggled to find her car keys in her purse.

“Mom, you look white as a sheet.”

Kathleen nodded, but she couldn’t break down here. Not until they were outside and Allison was safe and back in the sunlight, blasting Taylor Swift out of their speakers and texting up a storm to her friends as they drove away. That was normal. Everything that had just happened…that was not.

Walking quickly, they stepped out of the prison and into the parking lot, beelining for Kathleen’s red SUV. Desperately, she thought about calling Matthew, but the thought of his chipper voice asking her how it went would send her into an anxiety-driven meltdown. She’d never felt so terrified for her brother’s life before, never felt so much hatred that she had to leave Max behind with people who didn't care about his sweet nature and good heart. But it was out of her control. She opened the car door and slammed it behind her.

In the sweltering heat of the interior, Kathleen took a deep breath. Would they put Max in solitary confinement? Did low-level drug criminals even qualify for solitary? That seemed so extreme when he was just helping his family.

She thought of Brady’s head hitting the concrete table. The crunch.

“Mom, start the car?” Allison asked, quietly.

“Of course, sorry.” Kathleen let out a shaky breath and stuck the keys in the ignition. She turned the engine over, waiting for the familiar rumble paired with the blast of air conditioning. The car made a clicking sound, but otherwise remained silent and off.

Kathleen bit her lip and tried again. Same result.

“Really?” she said under her breath to the car. “No, I’m serious. Are you really not going to work?”

“Is the battery dead?” Allison asked, almost as if her mother were a bomb that might explode at any moment. She wasn't wrong. “Maybe the lights were left on?”

Kathleen checked—nope, turned off. She tested the interior lights, anything that could have drained the battery. She put her hand over her eyes for a moment. “Allison, honey, I think we’re stuck. I’m gonna try and call your father.”

“Okay,” Allison said and bit her lip.

“I’m all right. We’re all right.” Kathleen gave Allison a wobbly smile. “I’m so sorry to fall apart on you like that. Are you okay?”

Allison nodded and then asked in a very small voice. “Will Uncle Max be all right?”

Kathleen didn’t know what to say so she lied, a lie to soothe them both. “He will. It’s Max. He’s a hero now.”

Allison chuckled. “He sure did take control of the room.”

“Yeah.” Kathleen held her phone up to her ear, Matthew already on speed dial. A strange beeping sound filled her ears, followed by a long blaring tone. Frowning, she looked at her phone, noted that she had no signal. “My phone is acting up. Can you try?”

Allison nodded, but moments later she frowned at her phone too. “I can’t reach anyone. Let me try Grandma.”

Kathleen looked at the wallpaper on her phone—a family photo from their first day in Galena, when they’d walked to a duck pond and fed the fowl small pellets for fifty cents. They’d all laughed when one of the ducks tried to chase Patton, when Allison had rolled her eyes but had a grin tugging at her lips, when Matthew had kissed her cheek and told her he still loved her after all these years.

“Mom, nothing’s happening. I can’t hear anything. I can’t get ahold of anyone.”

Kathleen sat in the parking lot without a car, a phone, or a brother. She thought the tears would spill out then, make her have to step outside to have a quick cry, but instead a smooth conviction rolled over her. First things first. Take care of her daughter. Get them someplace safe.

“Should I try my friends? We could get them to pick us up and hang out there until we get in touch with Dad. This stupid prison probably has some kind of police-wave that kills phone connection.”

“Sure. Should I go back inside and see if any of the guards have a jump?” Kathleen didn’t want to, but she would if Allison couldn’t get ahold of anyone.

Allison shook her head. “I don’t want you going back in there. Let me see if I can reach my friends.” She held the phone to her ear again, speed-dialing people Kathleen barely knew. A terrible feeling twisted Kathleen’s gut. She wanted to get home, hold her family close. Yet somehow, she felt as if the universe had turned against them. That something was terribly wrong and she was adrift in the chaos of it all, a life raft nowhere in sight.

9

The waterproof map felt slick in Matthew’s grip as he traced the path from their location to the highway with his fingernail. “We can definitely take this side road until we head up towards the interstate,” he said, nudging David to ensure he paid attention.

David peered over Matthew’s shoulder, his eyebrows drawn together. “Are we sure the interstate is the best course?”

Matthew glanced at his father in astonishment. “It’s the fastest way home, as you agreed on earlier. If we stick to back roads, there’s less of a chance we’ll find people to help us out. Better to be direct and forward. Why, are you nervous?”

David shifted uneasily. “No. I only worry about people being idiots.”

Matthew couldn’t help but laugh. “How do you expect to run a hotel that’s focused on people, then, Dad?”

David grinned at him. “Figured you’d take that responsibility. I’d fix things and secretly smoke cigars in the back while you dealt with the customers.”

“Oh, good to know. I had no idea the responsibility would all fall on me.”

“If you make a profit this year, I’ll let you share a cigar with me.”

“Promises, promises. Seriously though, Dad. The interstate is the best way. You agree?”

“Lead the way.”

Matthew folded up the map and stuck it in his pocket. Concrete crunched under their feet as they headed away from the big box stores and wide asphalt parking lots into side streets lined with smaller shops, trees, and at some point, residential houses. Matthew tried to temper his urge to conquer the distance and see how far he could go, but David’s shuffling contrasted with Matthew’s long strides. He had to admit, he was grateful for the hiking boots.

He looked up from the map and frowned. Around them, people ambled about the roads or stood out on the lawns, looking angry or mistrustful. Cars had haphazardly died around the streets, almost like toys that a child had upended and scattered. Some people shouted curses as they tried to push their vehicles to the side of the road, while others looked on as if trying to copy those same actions, looking sad and lost. The sense of explosive anger had transformed to a simmering pot, ready to boil over at any moment.

Matthew walked closer to his father. This whole thing seemed surreal. Sure, he could come to terms with a widespread power outage taking out businesses and maybe even affecting cars for miles, but this was almost too much. A cruel universal joke. This could be, for all intents and purposes, a weird time-traveling science fiction world he’d been plopped into where everything fell apart. Patton loved this end-of-the-world mumbo-jumbo. But now that that fictional mumbo-jumbo had become reality, Matthew felt detached and uncentered.

Get out to the interstate. That was the goal. This...whatever this was, it couldn’t extend all the way to Galena. If they could get past whatever this was, they could call Ruth, call Kathleen. Things would go back to normal.

David’s shuffle missed a step. Mathew glanced back to see he’d outpaced his father, who’d slowed considerably.

“Hate to say it,” David admitted, sounding out of breath, “but this old man needs a break.”

“All those cigars,” Matthew said, but his heart wasn’t in the joke. He eased David to the side of the road where David sat heavily on the curb, clasping his hands in front of him. Matthew opened up his pack, drew out a bottle of water, and offered it to David. David drank sparingly, swishing it around in his mouth before swallowing.

Behind them, Matthew could still see the commercialized rise of the shopping center Wilson’s Antiques had been near. They hadn’t walked very far before David needed rest—and Matthew wondered how much his father had pushed himself to get this far. With a sudden spike of guilt, Matthew realized he’d been foolish.

How could he assume his sick father could walk all the way to Galena? What had he been thinking? They’d barely walked a mile before stopping for a breather. Matthew had assumed that, worst case scenario, they’d rough it for maybe a couple of days. Now, those couple of days looked like it could easily turn into a week. Maybe two.

He couldn’t expose David to the elements for two weeks. They had nothing to keep warm, barely anything to eat that would last that long. Anger rushed through him at his irresponsibility. He was a grown man—he should’ve realized how hard this would be on David. He should’ve taken better care.

Thankfully, David’s breathing evened out. Matthew tried to control his body posture, to keep him appearing like this was just a father-son outing even as his mind worked itself into overdrive. Perhaps they should turn back. Spend the night in the truck. Even if they had to eat power bars morning, noon, and night, at least David wouldn’t be in danger of collapsing or running his heart ragged. Matthew put his hands on his hips and looked around. Just across the street, a woman studied the popped hood of her car with despair. Another group of twenty-somethings were pushing a Toyota Prius into a driveway. Another older man asked for money down the way, spurned with glares by others.

No, going back would be the same as pushing ahead. They might be able to have a roof over their heads, but help would be scarce. They’d be in the same situation. At least here, they were actively trying to save themselves, rather than waiting on the mercy of others. As much as he had faith in humanity as a whole, Matthew knew waiting would drive both him and David insane.

“Matt?” David asked.

“Yeah, Dad?”

“Everything okay?”

Matthew knew David’s question encompassed more than that. He was asking about Matthew’s doubts, about whether they should reconsider going back, whether David should stay behind while Matthew forged ahead. Matthew knew David was thinking all the same things he was. About how grim this looked. “Never better, Dad.” Matthew held his hand out and David took it.

“All right, son,” David said, accepting the unspoken decision. Together, they continued down the road once more.

Soon enough, the streets transitioned from tree-shaded residential paths to wider double lane industrial roadways, with off-shooting ramps and green signs pointing them in different directions. Matthew kept his hope close, knowing without a shadow of acknowledged doubt that once they got on the exit ramp and hit the fast-moving highway, they would find endless cars whizzing by, honking horns, that he could hold his thumb out like a hitchhiker and someone would eventually stop for them. There would be fast food restaurants along the side of the road for them to get salty fries. There would be gas stations who would hand over their landlines with a rolled eye for Matthew to make a call.

“Here we go,” Matthew said, pointing at the map and then inclining his head to a sign with “Galena” painted in shimmering white.

David nodded, still somewhat out of breath from their last rest. They’d stopped about five times since they began walking again, and David was able to keep moving in bursts of energized speed. They meandered up and around the exit’s curve, finally levelling up and out to see the long flat stretch of interstate cutting through the flat plains.

Matthew’s heart climbed up his throat. He came to a sudden standstill. A sea of stalled cars clogged the interstate. Trucks, SUVs, and cars sat at strange angles while others were bumper to bumper without a sliver of space to pivot and move. Between all of them, people screamed in rage at each other. Others pushed for space or paced in a mix of business casual and executive suits with their phones pressed uselessly to their ears. For a moment, it was all Matthew could do to stare at the impossible before him. Everyone was in the same position as they were? Everyone? Everywhere?

Car horns screeched like honking geese. The rumble of engines filled the air. Matthew realized that some of the older models from his youth were still working, and yet those people were just as imprisoned as the cars that weren’t working. No one could move. It was the world’s worst gridlock he’d ever seen.

“What the…” David’s voice trailed off.

“I don’t know,” Matthew said, dumbstruck. “I don’t even know.”

David let out a low whistle and after a stunned moment, clapped Matthew on the shoulder. “Pick your feet up. Looks like we have a much longer walk than we thought.”

“Yeah,” Matthew said, unable to say anything else, not knowing what else he could possibly say. “You’re right.”

They walked side by side on the shoulder, weaving around cars and other people, the sign pointing towards Galena saying they had many, many miles left to go.

10

The cars on the interstate formed a disjointed rainbow, the twinkling glitter of paint ranging from reds and blues to greens and silvers. Matthew squinted as the sunlight blinked off of curved tops and shiny bumpers and wished he’d bought a pair of sunglasses to go along with the bandana wrapped around his forehead. Perspiration beaded along his neck, but they’d kept up a good pace for the last thirty minutes or so. For as far as the eye could see, the maze of dead and gridlocked cars was unending. People wandered in shifting emotions of confusion, anger, and frustration. As Madison shrank behind them, Matthew fought a deep sense of dread and tried to focus on the horizon where the concrete barriers hid the sight of interlocking parcels of green and yellow farmland.

The startling crash of glass paired with the sound of shards clinking together jolted him out of his thoughts. Just ahead, dark shapes swarmed over and around the cars like a cluster of flies. One of the flies held something in his hands and cocked it back like a baseball bat, before letting the object collide with the side window of a Mazda.

Again, that sharp shatter of glass. The bright sprinkle of shards caught the light and sent momentary prisms dancing over the dark fly—no, not a fly, a man. A group of men actually, who whooped like the man had hit a home run and began rummaging in the empty car. Matthew slowed his walk. The group of men seemed to shrug after only a few moments and then moved on to a Subaru up ahead. Arm cocked. Crash of glass. It wasn’t a bat. It was a tire iron.

Matthew knew his face was scrunched in an expression of outraged disapproval. These men were working down the line of cars, smashing in windows, digging keys into the paint and leaving long jagged white lines down the hoods and doors. Their laughter had the jeering wildness of a murder of crows, setting Matthew’s teeth on edge. And they were headed right towards them.

About two cars ahead, the man with the crowbar—the leader, Matthew assumed—smashed in the window of a small hatchback. The scream that followed on the heels of the shattering glass made Matthew’s blood run cold. One of the men threw his head back and laughed. As another mocked the high-pitched screams coming from inside the car, the outrage pooling inside Matthew unspooled into action.

“What’s wrong, little lady?” the man with the tire-iron asked, bending over to speak through the ruined window. He had a high-and-tight haircut, something David might have worn once upon a time. “I’m a repair man, don’t you see? And it looks like you’re in need of a new window. Pay up.”

“That’s it,” Matthew muttered under his breath.

“Matt,” David cautioned. “Matt. Matthew. Don’t engage. Did you hear me?”

But Matthew had already begun angling toward the screaming, which had turned into terrified sobbing.

“Matthew,” David hissed. “Leave it alone. There’s no point getting involved.”

Matthew turned on his father. “If I don’t, no one else will. You’d let them harass a woman? You’d just watch?”

David’s mouth pursed into a tight line, but the disapproval lingered in his eyes. “People are looking for trouble,” he said quickly, before Matthew could look away. “They know they can get away with it.”

Matthew uttered a sound of disgust and wrenched away from his father. “Hey!” he shouted to the group of men. “What the hell are you guys doing?”

“Oh look-it here,” one of the men shouted back and smacked his friend in the arm. “Who are you?”

“You think that’s okay? Terrifying a poor woman to death for the fun of it?” Matthew shouted back. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“Hey, Chris,” the man said, nodding his head toward the man with the tire iron. “What do you think? Is it okay?”

Chris slung the tire iron against his shoulder and tapped it once, twice. His eyes narrowed as he took Matthew in from head to toe, considering him.

“There’s no reason to scare people who are already scared,” Matthew added. Behind him, David took in a sharp breath, Matthew’s name breathed out in full and in warning.

“You think I’m a bad person?” Chris asked, putting a hand on his chest and taking a step closer. His crew fanned out around him, as if reading an unspoken signal. “You’ve come on your white horse to save the maiden from the bad guy?” Chris snorted out a disbelieving laugh. “You sure made a mistake in this book.”

Matthew vibrated with tension. He flicked his eyes over the rest of the men who slowly made their way closer to him. “It’s never a mistake to call out boys pretending to be men.”

Chris let out a low whistle. “You’ve sure got a mouth on you. If this is a playground, you know what teachers say. We all need to share. Looks like you have a lot holding your bag down. Why don’t you let us take a look?”

“Why would I ever do that?” Matthew asked in a low voice. Chris came so close Matthew could see the cruel gleam in his hazel eyes, the soft tap of the tire iron against his shoulder a warning. Matthew kept his chin up high, remembering stupid ego fights like this from his time in bars, when he’d be the one telling his friends to cool it when tempers ran too high. Now, he was the one picking a fight—but this wasn’t over a slight. This was because Chris thought it was fun to hurt others. This was Matthew giving a young woman the time and space to get away.

“Because if you don’t, I might knock your jaw off.” The tire iron tapped against Chris’s shoulder again. Matthew looked down and tried to hide his shock at seeing the bold interlocking lines of blue, black and red peeking out of Chris’s rolled-up tee-shirt sleeve. A tattoo. It looked familiar—something like an army guy might sport.

“Matthew,” David breathed from behind, and Matthew blinked, saw the crew surrounding them like a pack of wolves, each with that predatory quietness about them, waiting for Chris to give the signal to attack. Behind Chris’s shoulder, Matthew saw the woman in the car stumble out and begin running away from them, her high heels held in her hand, her stocking feet silent on the crushed glass and concrete. Something eased in his chest—at least she was safe. Only now, he and David were in trouble.

“If that’s what it takes to show you how to behave,” Matthew said, slinging his pack slowly over his shoulder. He didn’t want to back down, almost felt ready to test his strength against Chris’s, but he knew it wouldn’t be fair. Not with his dad vulnerable behind him, not with the other men in Chris’s crew eyeing him like a meal. They couldn’t make a run for it—David wouldn’t be able to keep up. Even Matthew might not be able to outpace Chris, who looked like he ran marathons.

Chris yanked Matthew’s pack out of his hands. “Cheese, check the old guy’s pack.”

The man who’d laughed at the woman’s distress earlier—Cheese, Matthew thought with a shake of his head—stepped forward and wrenched David’s pack from him. Backing up to stand next to Chris, Cheese grinned at him and ripped through the zippers of the pack. Chris did the same. Together, they dumped out the power bars, toilet paper, and supplies on the asphalt.

“That’s it?” Cheese asked with a snort of derision. “Buncha crap.” He stomped on one of the power bars, breaking the plastic covering and sending dusty chocolate up into the air.

“Might be a good lesson, here.” Chris held his foot above another bar and slowly crushed it against the pavement. “Since we’re on the playground and all. Might be a good lesson for you to mind your own business. What do ya think, Cheese.”

“Yeah,” Cheese said, and Matthew noted the man had a couple of back molars missing. “Teach ’em.” He picked up a roll of toilet paper and began tearing pieces off and flinging them at Matthew. The pieces floated down like feathers.

“Can get in a lot of trouble when you don’t mind your own business.” Chris tilted his head.

“That so,” Matthew said, tapping Chris's arm where the tattoo lay. “Is that what they teach you in the military? What were you—Army? No, Marines, I bet.”

Chris’s mouth clapped shut, his eyes shuttering closed. His bravado slipped away.

“Where did you serve?” Matthew asked, like a dog with a bone. “What’s your rank? I’d love to know. Would love to support you by giving you my power bars.”

A sharp breath hissed through Chris’s teeth. He backed up a step and threw the empty day pack at Matthew. Matthew barely managed to catch it. “I’m bored with this,” Chris said, stepping back. “Let’s get out of here, boys.”

The crew stayed silent, all knowing Matthew had touched a nerve, but they melted away from around David and Matthew, spreading out around the cars as they walked away. The tight knot of anxiety in Matthew’s stomach eased. Cheese tucked the roll of toilet paper under this arm and began unspooling it, letting the thin white pulp-paper float like streamers. Matthew let out a deep breath, the adrenaline leaking through him in jittering waves. The sudden sound of glass crashing made him whip around to see Chris lever the tire iron and smash the metal through another car window with undue force. As if he wished it were Matthew’s face he was smashing in.

“They won’t stop,” Matthew said in a rush.

“Of course they won’t,” David said sharply, bending down to gather the remaining power bars and stuff them back in the bag.

“He should know better,” Matthew said, hot anger coating his words as he turned back to look at David. “He’s probably an ex-Marine. Those kinds of actions could be…I don’t know, he could be court-martialed or something.”

“They won’t stop harassing people.” David zipped up his bag and adjusted it over his shoulders.

“We can’t let them get away with it,” Matthew said.

“I know what you’re thinking,” David said, “but we can’t force them to be decent men. You can’t teach morality. That's not your job.”

“But we can’t just do nothing.”

David made a sound of frustration. “You’re an idealist, Matt. Just because you can show people the right way to do things doesn’t mean they’ll do the right thing. Most people, when push comes to shove, are ugly down to their bones. That man might have been an ex-Marine, but you have no idea what his past was like. Maybe he deserted. Maybe he saw enough bad things to make him need control over others. Things aren’t black and white.”

“Some things should be,” Matthew said. “Things like, don’t terrorize others. Or, don’t be a jerk to your fellow humans. Everyone is scared. What’s the point of making it worse?”

“You need to recognize that we aren’t in a normal situation. What you just did could have gotten us beaten up or even killed.”

“God, Dad. You don’t have to see the worst in everything.”

“I don’t. I’m being realistic.”

“You’re being paranoid.”

“At least I wouldn’t have gotten our food crunched to bits.”

“But the woman wouldn’t have been able to get away.” Matthew glared at David and David glared right back. Matthew couldn't understand it. His father was a good man—how could he sit back and watch as others treated each other with such disdain? A fundamental difference existed between them, a rift that had always clashed, but had never needed to be scrutinized like it did right now.

Another crash of glass sounded behind them. Raucous laughter rang through the air. The sound of another high-pitched shriek of fear made Matthew close his eyes in defeat. He couldn’t look behind him and see Chris and Cheese hurting another person without doing something.

“You can’t save everyone,” David said, his voice quiet and somewhat apologetic.

Matthew took a deep breath and closed his eyes against the blinding sun. David was right on that account. His father was his top priority, and he hoped that the women Chris hunted had fathers or husbands or partners out there that would defend them. He hoped there was someone out there stronger than him who could take on the world and make it better.

Even so, David had a point. What would Matthew have done if Chris wanted to get into a fight? Would he be justified if David was punched in the gut, his heart forced to suffer more trauma, all because Matthew wanted to stop a group of bad guys from hurting others?

Yes, his heart whispered. Of course. If you put good in the world, it will come back to you.

Would it have been good to see his father bleeding? What good was that? What good was risking David’s life for an unknown woman?

Matthew shook off his thoughts and slung his pack over his shoulders, tightening the straps unnecessarily. He might not be able to save the world, but he could save his world—and that included getting his father back to the hotel in one piece.

11

Hours floated by, marked by the slow procession of the sun across the sky and the mounting anxiety growing inside of Ruth. The phone remained suspiciously silent. She’d expected at least a courtesy call from Matthew or David, updating her on their purchases in town, letting her know when to expect them back home. An eerie silence settled over the hotel, broken by the brush of dust rags wiping away layers of grime as she and Patton finished cleaning the rest of the rooms.

The state of the freezer occupied the back of Ruth’s mind, and she fought her worry, refusing to let it overshadow the relative happiness of the day. She took a deep breath, knowing that if she recognized her negative thoughts and stayed level-headed, she could figure out anything.

Now, with the rooms mostly cleaned and waiting on the electricity to turn back on, she might as well fess up to Patton about what was going on. He had a right to know and was old enough to understand there might be a problem the two of them had to handle. Maybe he'd know of something Matthew and Kathleen had planned for, maybe there was just a silly switch she was supposed to turn over every other day that would fix the freezer right up. A woman could hope.

“What’s wrong, Grandma?” Patton frowned at her in concern, his arms full of dirtied linens.

“We haven’t heard from Grandpa,” she said. “You know how I worry.”

Patton nodded solemnly. “Usually they call.”

Ruth’s throat felt tight. “Take those downstairs to the laundry room, would you? Then meet me outside. I should’ve said something earlier, Patton, but the freezer didn’t seem to be holding in the cold like it should while we were having lunch. I’m concerned it might be going out, and we don’t have much food as it is. How does a trip to the store sound? Get out, get some fresh air.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Patton said. “Not sure how long I can survive on cereal.” He wobbled out of the room, the layers of linens like fluffy cake frosting overflowing from his arms. Ruth held back a sudden laugh, grateful for the cheerful image. She remembered she needed to take time slow, enjoy the moments, delight in the gifts life gave. She couldn’t let her anxiety get the better of her with future predictions of what if.

She left the room and headed down the stairs, grabbing her purse and the keys to the blue Volvo out front. Once they had food from the store in Galena, she would feel more at ease. Even if the freezer died, they could stock up the small fridge and she could make sure she wasn’t feeding her grandson sugar-packed grain with milk for every meal. What would Kathleen say? Ugh. She knew what Kathleen would say and none of it good. This couldn't be one more point of argument between her and her daughter-in-law.

She unlocked the Volvo and slid into the hot interior, the leather near-scalding against her back. She stuck the keys in the ignition as Patton ran from the hotel’s wide back doors to the passenger side. He jumped in, shaking his hand as if the door handle had burned him, “Oh dang, it is hot!,” and Ruth stifled a laugh at him, her heart suddenly full of light. Her grandson entertained her in so many ways.

“That’s what happens when you leave a car in the sun all day,” she teased, turning the key in the ignition.

Patton rolled his eyes at her. The car stayed silent. Frowning, Ruth tried again, but the car remained stubbornly still and quiet.

“Are you out of gas?” Patton asked, a slow smile curving his face. “Is that what really happens when you leave a car in the sun all day?”

“Ha ha, very funny.” Ruth pulled the key out and put it back in, as if that would somehow make a difference. The car didn’t start—not even a whir. The vehicle seemed completely dead.

“I swear I filled up when I was last in town,” she muttered under her breath, even as that anxious chattering began in the back of her mind again. If she popped the hood, she’d only know how to unscrew the cap for the window-washer fluid, only be able to figure out where the oil stick lay. Vehicles had always been meant for shops and overall-clad technicians, for her to tip her hard-earned cash into their hands because she needed a new alternator or struts or premium gas because she drove a German vehicle. Neither David nor Matthew had an inkling about cars, either.

“I can get the gas cans from the garage,” Patton suggested. “They're full, if we need fuel.”

Ruth bit her lip, her hand tight around the keys still in the ignition. “I’m positive I filled up the other day. Maybe the lights were left on and the battery is dead.” She let out an aggravated sigh and pulled the keys out, letting them fall in a clink of silver into her lap. “Looks like our plan has been foiled.”

“Drat,” Patton said, “and I had such evil plots afoot.”

Ruth covered her face and giggled. “Like what? Replace cereal with cookies and candy bars?”

“Yup. My sweet tooth is notorious.”

“Where did you hear that word?”

“Allison.” Patton leaned back in his seat. “She said Mom's temper is notorious for going off at the worst moments. Is the freezer really going out?”

“It wasn’t as cold as it should be when I checked earlier today.”

“Was there any food in it?”

Ruth nodded. “I can’t remember what, but yes. Should we go check what exactly there is?”

“Yeah.” Patton opened the door and let out a hiss when his hand touched the hot plastic handle. “Geez, we should put this thing in the garage.”

Ruth couldn’t help but agree. It never failed: if one machine kicked the bucket, then more weren’t far behind. First the freezer and now the car…what could be next?

As Patton and Ruth made their way back inside and into the kitchen, she felt grateful for the wash of cool air still circulating inside the hotel. She wondered if she looked like a crazy lady of the mountain with her bun all askew and her dirty work clothes. Maybe it was a good thing the people in Galena didn’t get to see her this way.

Patton stood in front of the freezer and Ruth gave him a nod of approval. He gripped the door and pulled hard, finally getting the heavy door to budge. Together they stuck their heads inside, and Ruth’s heart sank. Something was definitely wrong with the insulation or the seal. The chilly air of the early afternoon had sunk into a lukewarm stagnant air that smelled faintly of plastic. The white buildup on the seal seemed thicker than it had earlier, and Ruth scratched at it with her fingernail.

Patton slipped further into the freezer and began looking intently at the wrapped packages on the shelf. “You’re right, Grandma. The refrigerator feels colder than this!”

Ruth pursed her lips together. “That’s what worries me. What do you see there?”

Patton picked up a thick package wrapped in white paper. “Looks like we’ve got lots of chicken.” He squinted at the writing on another package. “A sirloin. Some veggies.”

Ruth nodded, feeling a bit at a loss about what to do. “Let’s bring them out here. Might as well move them to the fridge rather than let them go bad in this warm freezer.”

“You know, Grandma,” Patton said slowly, “we could cook the food and preserve it.”

“That sounds like a good idea, but honey, I don’t know the first thing about preserving food.”

Patton handed her the chicken package. Ruth read that it contained five pounds of white meat. “If you want, one of my classmates held a demonstration at school on how to preserve meat. We were studying Native American history and traditions and she’s part Sioux, I think? Moved here a couple of years ago from the Dakotas. Anyway, she did this cool demonstration and cut the meat very thin and then marinated it with salt. We could try it?”

“What did she marinate it with?” Ruth asked, thinking helplessly of teriyaki and lemon zest.

“Salt, obviously. Vinegar, too.”

“Really now. What else did this young lady teach you?”

“She's just a friend.” Patton looked away, a blush high on his cheeks.

“I only meant to say that she sounds like a bright young lady, is all,” Ruth said primly as she opened up one of the cupboards and pulled out the ingredients, along with garlic and onion powder, a steak pepper seasoning, and something Matthew had brought from a trip to New Orleans. “How’s this look?”

“Looks good, Grandma. You really want to try preserving the meat?”

“I trust you,” Ruth said, even as her heart felt swollen with love for her grandson. Despite everything they’d been through, all the problems encountered, Patton reminded her of David when they first met in his level-headed ways, his acceptance of situations outside of his control, his ability to set his nose to the grindstone and find solutions.

“We’ll need to find a place to hang the meat strips up, somewhere cool and dry with good air flow.” Patton ran a hand through his dark hair and then put a hand on his hip. “I don’t know what to do with the vegetables, though.”

Ruth bent over and rifled through the other cabinets, pulling out mason jars, knives, and spatulas, all the while trying not to think about the bacteria that could survive on meat drying in open air. She knew a little about canning, a skillset her mother had used but which Ruth had almost forgotten. She remembered some of the basics. She let out a cry of victory when she pulled out a pressure cooker and felt more settled. Using both this and the gas range stove top, she would be able to preserve the vegetables and boil water, all the while using the salt to keep things mostly clear of spoilage. She took a deep breath, surprised all this old-school methodology was coming back into use. She placed everything on the counter. “We’ll can what we can,” she said. “You might know a thing or two about meat preservation, but we’ll be using my mother’s recipes to keep these veggies.”

And hopefully, we won’t need them, she thought to herself as she began clearing her work space. Hopefully, the electricity would come back on soon. Hopefully, David and Matthew would walk through the front door at any moment and make fun of her for flying off the handle and going into canning mode because of the state of the freezer. Hopefully, they’d be able to jump the car, or do whatever magic they could to make it start again and she could throw out the whole canned batch in favor of fresher foods. Hopefully.

“Can you teach me, Grandma?” Patton asked, hopping up on the stool to watch her.

“Of course,” she said. “You’ll be in charge of the meat, I hope you know. Maybe you can spot a place we can smoke or let the meat dry out.”

“Okay,” he said, and spun on the stool, his eyes wide and taking in everything in the kitchen in a new light.

“Hey,” Ruth said, calling him back as he began to investigate what the kitchen had to offer. “That was quick thinking on your part. Figuring out what to do with the meat. I would’ve thrown it in the refrigerator, and we might have lost it all.”

“We still might,” Patton said with a grin. “But if we do, don’t tell Mom, okay?”

“I’ll take the blame.” Ruth winked. “Don’t worry about that.”

“You’re the best, Grandma,” Patton said as Ruth turned back to the spread in front of her. Here goes nothing.

12

The roadblock of stalled cars seemed to fill the interstate from here to eternity. Matthew and David stuck to the shoulder, navigating around off-kilter vehicles and sharing a power bar in tense silence. The nuts and ground grain stuck to the roof of Matthew’s mouth, making him yearn for water, but he couldn’t quite let himself have any. Every sound that wasn’t the familiar shuffle of their hiking boots crunching on pavement had him jumping. Ever since Cheese and Chris had threatened them, Matthew felt on edge, suspicious of even the shadows. It made him irritable.

The worst part was that Matthew now understood David’s hesitations and fears. After the adrenaline had worn off from his almost fist fight, Matthew felt queasy. His dad was right—he had been reckless. He could have gotten them both hurt or killed. Still, he couldn’t let those fears rule his future. He couldn’t give in to the train of thought that everyone stuck on the interstate was an enemy, that everyone meant them harm.

Yet that was becoming harder and harder as the journey went on. Especially with his father’s disapproving silence painting the air between them.

Several miles passed with only a few rest stops in between. Matthew’s legs began to ache, his calves tight from walking, and he attempted to stretch, all the while giving thanks to Jordan for suggesting the hiking boots. They started to break in the longer Matthew wore them, the stiffness loosening and creating a comfortable cradle for his feet. David’s cheeks had a red bloom of sunburn, and Matthew wished they’d picked up some sunblock too. He found himself wishing for a long list of things on this trek.

“How are you feeling?” Matthew asked, breaking the thick silence. He hadn’t seen David rub his chest for a while and could think of nothing else to say but start up small talk. He had a sneaking suspicion David hadn’t taken a rest because of his stubbornness.

“Good,” David said. “Tired. I don’t want to think of how much further we have to go.”

“Agreed. I can’t believe cars are stalled all the way out here. I don’t understand what happened.”

“Me either.” David worried at his lip. “Listen, Matt—”

“Tommy? Tommy!” A loud scream cut David off and Matthew whipped around, searching for the source of the voice.

“Tommy! Where are you!”

Matthew squinted down the interstate and saw a man dodging between cars. “Tommy, if you can hear me, say something!” the man shouted.

“Don’t even think about it, Matthew,” David snapped, all semblance of reconciliation evaporating. “You know what happened last time. Lots of people are trying to take advantage of each other. This looks too…” David waved his hand around, “hysterical.”

“Or he’s lost someone.” Matthew rounded on David, already feeling the fight bubbling to the surface between them. “If something had happened to Kathleen or the kids or god forbid, you, I’d be the same way.”

“Might be a trap,” David answered.

“Sometimes, Dad, I don’t even know you.” Matthew turned back to the man and began moving through the cars toward the younger man still shouting for Tommy.

“Hey!” Matthew waved at the stranger “Are you all right?”

The shouting man stopped, considering, and then beelined for Matthew with a short wave back. “I’m looking for my son,” he said, coming closer to Matthew. The man wore a striped button-up shirt and dark-washed jeans, as if he were heading to a low-key event. “He’s seven. I left him sleeping in our car to try to clear a path for us to get out of here, but it’s like he’s suddenly disappeared. I can’t find my way back. I can’t believe I lost my car. I can’t believe I lost my son.”

“All the cars start to look the same after a while, don’t they?” Matthew said. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you find your son. What does he look like?”

“He’s probably still in our car. It’s a VW Beetle, bright white, I just had the thing cleaned. I can’t believe I left him in the car, but he was fast asleep. My wife is going to kill me if I’ve lost him.” The man’s eyes filled with tears, and a look of devastation crossed his face.

“It’s okay. We’ll find him. I’m Matthew and that grump over there is my father, David.”

“Thank you so much for helping me. I’m Shane. My boy’s name is Tommy. He’s got black hair and is wearing a shirt with turtles on it.”

“Hang on.” Matthew paused, something clicking in his brain. “Is your car running? Most of the vehicles here are dead.”

“Yeah, it’s the weirdest thing. My car’s old, like the vintage ’70s kind, not one of those newer Beetles, that I inherited when my dad passed. We were driving to visit my brother when everything just…stopped. It was like all the cars coasted and came to a halt. I thought there was an accident or something, you know? Then no one moved for an hour, and I got out and people said they couldn’t start their cars at all. Mine still ran, but I was blocked by everyone else. There was no room to maneuver around and out. There must be something to say for older designs, right?”

Matthew smiled at Shane. “Yeah, no kidding. We just came from Madison. My car died too.”

“And then I was stupid enough to leave Tommy in the car to try and get us out of the deadlock. I can’t believe how idiotic that was.”

“Don’t worry about it. Every father makes mistakes. We’ll find him.” Matthew raised a hand and ushered David over. David’s shoulders slumped, as if fed up with Matthew’s antics, but he ambled over and shook hands with Shane.

“Where do you think your car is?” David asked.

Shane pointed back the way they’d come. “Somewhere up there. White VW Bug.”

David sighed as both he and Shane began picking their way across the line of cars. Matthew spotted a tall SUV and walked over to it. Finding the big vehicle empty, he scrambled up on a Camry next to it and then leap-frogged onto the SUV’s hood. The metal made a soft indentation sound from holding Matthew’s weight. “Sorry,” he said to the vehicle, and added another apology for good measure for the owners. The metal felt hot to the touch, but Matthew managed to climb the SUV’s roof to survey the interstate, like a ship captain looking over the endless expanse of ocean. Shading his eyes with his hand, he peered in every direction.

It was like he thought. In the direction of Galena, stalled cars filled the road as the interstate cut into the horizon. Shapes that he assumed were people looked like tiny black ants moving off the exits, seeking some kind of shelter in the meager shops lining the highway. Worry curdled Matthew’s stomach, but he couldn’t let the Galena pathway distract him. A man had lost his son. He turned back around to face the way they’d come from, and studied the cars, searching for a glimpse of white.

He attempted to name the cars he did see, moving from eggshell-white hatchbacks to beige sports cars to dirty-white vans, until he glimpsed a familiar dome-shaped roof wedged between a couple of tall trucks. “Dad!” Matthew shouted, and both Shane and his father looked back at him. Matthew pointed in the direction and snapped his fingers. “Couple of car rows down, looks like it’s surrounded by big trucks. I think I see it!”

Shane jogged across the cars, glancing back to ensure he was still following Matthew’s directional finger, until a sound of joy filled the air. From his bird’s eye view, Matthew watched Shane dodge into the car and pull out a sleep-drunk child, holding him fast with cries of relief.

Matthew clambered down from his perch and headed in the same direction. Relief filled him from head to toe, a sudden reaffirmation of the path he’d always tried to walk. When he caught up with them at the white Bug’s side, David gave him a soft smile of approval. Shane clasped Tommy close to his chest, holding him tightly. “Thank you so much, oh my god, thank you so much,” Shane repeated. Tears peppered his cheeks. Matthew peeked inside the Beetle to see the backseat littered with toys and blankets, and yes, many turtles.

“No problem,” he said quietly, as Tommy wrapped his arms around Shane’s neck, holding on while Shane tried to control his crying. “I’m glad we could help.”

“If you hadn’t been there, I could’ve been looking for who knows how long. Tommy could’ve gotten heat stroke, he might’ve been taken or something, I can’t even imagine. Seriously, thank you both so much.”

Matthew nodded, and David uttered a stilted, “Of course.”

Finally, Shane eased Tommy back inside the car. He stood up straight and gave Matthew and David a relieved smile.

Hope bloomed in Matthew’s chest. This might have been a fortuitous meeting. “I don’t mean to sound rude,” Matthew started, “but would you be able to give us a ride? We’re heading towards Galena, and you’re the only working car we’ve seen for miles. We’d really like to get home.”

Shane’s face fell into a guilty look. “I’m so sorry, but I’m heading in the opposite direction. I need to get back home to my wife. She’ll be worried sick. I was supposed to call her but my cell doesn’t have signal. Galena is…well, more than a couple hours out of my way, and I have less than a half-tank as it is.”

David snorted softly and gave Matthew a pointed look. Matthew ignored David and plastered on a smile. “That’s all right. I understand. My wife is worried sick about us too.”

“I feel awful. If we were heading in the same direction, I’d love to give you two a ride. For helping me. You have no idea how appreciative I am to have run into you both.”

“It’s fine,” Matthew said, allowing his smile to turn genuine when Tommy peered out the window at them, soft with sleep and rubbing his eyes awake. “Dad?” Tommy asked, his voice small. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Shane said, wiping his eyes. “We’re heading back home.”

“We aren’t seeing Uncle Cory?”

“No can do, champ. We have to go home.”

“Oh,” Tommy said, crestfallen, and then eyed Matthew and David. “I’m hungry.”

Shane laughed like a long-suffering parent. “I know, bud. We’ll try and stop somewhere along the way.”

Matthew slipped his pack off and rummaged inside, pulling out a couple of power bars. He presented them to Shane. “You might want to just head home. The rest of Madison is a mess. These should tide you over.”

Shane stared at the offering with awe. Gently, he took the power bars from Matthew. “Thank you,” he said. “Really. You have no idea.”

“Good luck,” Matthew said, suddenly feeling bashful and not knowing what else to say. “Be good for your dad, Tommy.”

Tommy nodded in agreement. Shane handed him a power bar, and Tommy tore the packaging open with gusto. David waved goodbye, and together they turned around, heading back in the direction of Galena.

“I can’t believe you gave away some of our provisions.” David shook his head and glanced behind him to see how far away they were from Shane and Tommy.

Matthew sighed. He knew this was coming. “I couldn’t let a kid go hungry, Dad.”

“You have a heart of gold, and there are enough people out there that would melt it down and sell it at a pawn shop.”

“We helped reunite a father with his son,” Matthew pointed out. “What if we didn’t help them? He’d be frantic. His son would’ve woken thinking his father abandoned him. We did the right thing.”

“Black and white,” David pointed out.

“When it comes to a situation like that? Yeah, it is black and white. They would’ve helped us if they could’ve. Shane is a good man.”

David shook his head again. “That was an anomaly. We should’ve saved our food. We’ll need it, especially since it appears like we’ll be walking all the way to Galena. This trip isn’t just a stroll in the park—we’re actually hiking home.”

“I won’t let fear rule my life,” Matthew said, finally saying what lay in his heart.

“You shouldn’t barge into people’s problems,” David said sharply, before saying in a softer tone, “If you help every person, dog, or cat that cries out in need, we’ll never get home. I don’t want to see those people crush you, Matt.”

Matthew shook his head, knowing the discussion was hopeless. This would always be a point of contention, and he saw no point in trying to make David see a different side of the story. He kept his mouth shut and hefted his pack over his shoulder, ready for more miles of uncomfortable silence.

13

As his father’s silent treatment continued for the next few miles, Matthew sighed, already bored of the landscape, and wished for the umptieth time he had his favorite oldies tunes blasting through a car's speakers to make the time go by quicker. He took another sparse gulp of water, swished it around in his desert-dry mouth, and handed the bottle to David. David took the offering without a word and finished the last dregs. Already they were running low, even though they’d rationed well. They needed to restock and most likely take another break to relieve themselves. Matthew had kept his eye out for a rest stop for the last hour, searching for a good place to veer off course in search of a department store or even a gas station to replenish their stores.

The tension between him and David had wavered and lessened with time. Matthew took a breath of relief. Despite their differences he had a good relationship with his father, but sometimes both of them were like stone walls: immovable.

“Dad,” Matthew said, grateful to see the loom of a gas station sign up ahead, “we’re low on water and I need to take a break. How’s that gas station sound to you?” He pointed toward it.

David squinted, his face pinched in thought. “You think it’s safe to leave the road?”

Matthew wanted to shake his father, tell him everything in life didn’t have to be looked at with suspicion, but he held his tongue. There was no point in bringing up that sensitive subject again. “I don’t think we have a choice. We need water and more food for the journey. Might as well stop at someplace familiar instead of waiting until the city falls completely away, don’t you think? We won’t go far off the interstate. In and out.”

David bit his lip but nodded in agreement. They angled toward the exit. Relief filled Matthew when he saw fast food restaurants sidled up next to the gas stations, but on closer inspection, many of the restaurants sported CLOSED signs taped to the door. The first gas station they passed had a similar indicator. Dark interior. Locked doors. David glanced at Matthew in alarm.

“I know,” Matthew said to David’s silent worry. “You’d think these places would stay open, especially now.”

“They don’t have anything to gain,” David said. “No power, no money. Can’t make a profit on kindness.”

Matthew ignored him as they passed a second closed gas station. Wrappers and soda fountain drinks littered the side of the road, rustling in the light breeze. The smell of old hamburgers paired with the fresh prairie grass filled Matthew’s nose. As they approached the third gas station, which was in a similar state to the others, Matthew held his breath. He didn’t see a sign, despite the near abandoned ambiance of the shop, and he pushed gently on the door. It swung open with a ding from the bell above the door.

Matthew eased in slowly, anticipation building in his stomach. He didn’t know what to expect. At this point, he could get a smiling couple happy to give him help or an employee leveling a shotgun at his face. Both sounded plausible.

A young man, somewhat older than Allison, peeked out from behind the cash register. A blue vest covered his striped tee-shirt, and his black curly hair stuck up at all angles as if he’d been running his hands through it in anxiety. The young man held his hands up, as though he thought Matthew and David might be dangerous, and said in a shaky voice, “Welcome to the Zip-N-Quick, how can I help you?”

Matthew offered him a comforting smile. “Don’t worry. We aren’t here to cause you any trouble. We’re here to get some water and food.”

“Sure,” the young man said, his eyes darting from David to Matthew.

“Listen,” Matthew leaned closer, reading the name on the young man’s nametag, “Troy. Can you tell me where the bottled water is?”

Troy pointed toward the back of the store with a shaking finger. Matthew nodded and followed David. They pulled out a couple of plastic bottles, still somewhat cool, from the refrigerator cases. Signs with scribbled red marker on it indicated the water was priced higher than usual, but Matthew hoped Troy would give them a discount of some kind because no one would pay ten dollars for a water. He selected additional power bars, jerky, and chips from the shelves, noting they were also overpriced.

Easing to the front, he put the bottles on the counter alongside the food. The remaining cash in his pockets was limp from his sweat, and he folded a ten and placed it on the counter. The small card-swipe machine at his elbow blinked a black “error” at him.

“You’re the only gas station open around here, huh?” Matthew asked as Troy looked over his purchases. He handed Troy the ten. Troy didn’t blink, taking the money and barely looking at it. The cash register pinged open.

“Yeah.” Troy sounded moody, as if he hated that fact. “My manager insisted I finish my shift, even though the machines are down. Can’t do much, can I? Just usher out irate customers and take what they’ll give me. People have been real jerks about the whole thing. My manager thinks we’ll break into the black because everyone will want to buy stuff, but honestly? No one carries cash anymore. I don’t even care what you’ve got, as long as you have some kind of green to pay with.” Troy seemed almost relieved to be able to talk about it.

“Anyone have an idea of what’s going on?” David asked. “Our car died all the way back in Madison, and we’ve been on the road since.” He took the power bars off the counter and stuffed them in his pack. “Everyone seems in the dark.”

“No idea.” Troy slid the water bottles closer to David, and David shuffled them into his pack as well. “Most people are simply pissed…sorry, angry about their cars not starting. I mean, how am I supposed to get home? I can’t even call my mom to pick me up. I don’t even know if I have to work tomorrow. No one has any idea.”

“It certainly is frustrating.” Matthew nodded in agreement with Troy. “Can I use your bathroom by any chance?”

“Thank god that doesn’t run on electricity, right?” Troy gave Matthew a lopsided grin. “Outside, around the back. You are paying customers after all. My manager can suck it. Have at it.”

The door pinged goodbye as Matthew pushed it open, holding it for David. They rounded the building where receipts caught on rough scrub brush waved at them. A low, heated voice crept through the quiet of the outside, and Matthew paused, holding a hand out to stop David from going further. As they walked closer, he could distinguish the voice as female, spouting a series of enraged curses. Peeking around the corner, Matthew watched a young woman yanking on the back door of the store right next to the bathroom, one labeled Employees Only. A fringed jean jacket covered her petite form, something vintage and second-hand. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she pried at the backdoor with a vehemence.

“Come on, you stupid, stupid door—”

“Uh,” David said, looking around Matthew, “what are you doing?”

The woman whipped around and stared at them with narrowed eyes, her cheeks reddening in shame at being caught. She looked older than Allison, but by the rips in her jeans and the scuffed boots, it seemed as if she’d been on her own for a while now. The woman swallowed hard, her eyes darting between David and Matthew nervously.

“Staying away from you two, that’s what I’m doing,” she said. “What are you doing, sneaking up on me like that?”

“We had to use the bathroom.” Matthew pointed at the other set of doors next to hers with a sign saying Paying Customers Only taped to the front of the unisex symbol.

“Oh.” The woman pushed stray bangs off her forehead. Matthew put his hands up—the woman was skittish like a deer or a stray cat left out too long on its own—and she gave him a suspicious once over.

“What do you want?” she demanded, hostility hot in her tone. “You can’t take anything from me, I don’t have anything to give. So don’t think about pulling a knife on me or something.”

Matthew couldn’t help his horrified look. “We wouldn’t do anything of the kind.”

She pulled on the cuffs of her coat and shifted awkwardly. Matthew’s heart twinged at the gaunt look of her, the too-sharp jaw as if she’d been living on less for a long time. He held out one of the power bars that David hadn’t shoved in his pack. “You look hungry. Do you want something to eat?”

Her green eyes shifted between his face and the brightly colored wrapping, her brow furrowing into a concentrated look. She took a hesitant step toward him and snatched the bar out of his hand, as if he might grab for her if she got too close.

“What’s your name?” Matthew asked quietly. The girl looked like she was alone without two pennies to rub together.

“Jade,” she said, unwrapping the bar and taking a huge bite. Matthew watched her devour the thing in three mouthfuls.

“Are you by yourself?” David chimed in, sidling up next to Matthew.

“Yeah,” Jade continued. She wiped her mouth and sucked the melted chocolate off her thumb. “My mom kicked me out after a fight not too long ago, and I’ve been on my own ever since. Better that way. I would’ve split anyway. Not on good terms, her and me.”

“Today has been crazy, hasn’t it?” Matthew said, wondering at the nonchalant way she mentioned her mother, about being alone in a world that had gone upside down.

“Wild,” she said, giving him a small genuine smile. “The power is out all over. Everything is wrong. People have been wandering around like chickens with their heads cut off. It’s like they have no idea what to do when they don’t have their cars.” She chuckled and then immediately ducked her head, looking at the ground as if ready to be admonished for laughing at the misfortune of others. “I helped a couple people find their way to the right road, but man, they most likely have gotten lost again, bet you ten bucks.”

David huffed. “I believe it. You should’ve seen the things we’ve encountered coming from Madison.”

“You guys seem smart,” Jade said. “Not lost at all. Where you headed?”

“Galena,” Matthew said. “Still have quite a way to go, but hopefully the power will kick back on before that and we can hitch a ride.”

“Unlikely,” Jade said and then looked abashed at her sudden confidence. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant, I’ve been hitchhiking and doing odd jobs around this area for a while now. People aren’t too nice when it comes to asking for help.”

“Not a lot of good people in general,” David noted, warmth in his voice, and Jade laughed in agreement. “It feels as if the power is out over the whole country. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if it were,” David finished.

Matthew rolled his eyes internally. He wanted to turn on his father for his negativity, point out that Jade didn’t partake in his cynicism, when Jade nodded along, saying, “Totally. I believe we’re in it for the long haul. Whatever it is. This whole outage isn’t an anomaly or an accident. It feels real. Something that will last. Not like that power bar you gave me.” She chuckled at her own joke. Matthew returned her grin out of habit and felt his heart warm. Jade seemed like a lost soul with a hearty attitude. Maybe they’d been put in her path by fate to help her out.

“I don’t know about you,” David said, edging past Matthew. “But this old man needs a moment.” He opened the unisex bathroom door and shut it slowly, calling out from behind the closed door. “Don’t you dare listen, you two.”

Jade threw her head back and laughed. The rest of the tension eased away as Matthew joined in, as if the three of them were companions on the same road, newfound friends in a time of crisis.

14

After Matthew took his turn in the restroom, he emerged to see David and Jade sitting propped against the gas station’s wall in the shade, deep in conversation. David’s furrowed brow paired with his circling hands tipped Matthew off that he was in mid-explanation. Jade leaned in close, nodding as if in agreement, fingering the fringe of her jacket. Matthew approached with purpose, shoving his hands into his pockets, and listened intently as David’s voice filtered to his ears.

“…the EMP interferes with everything electrical, which is why I think the cars are fried.” David pointed over his shoulder at the stranded herd of vehicles.

“Why are the cars fried, Dad?” Matthew asked. “I’m surprised I haven’t heard this theory yet.”

David glared up at Matthew, and Matthew responded with an open, innocent expression.

“David was telling me about electromagnetic pulses,” Jade supplied. “EMPs. I didn’t know much about them.”

“I don’t either, actually,” Matthew said and gave David a pointed look. “I’d love to learn more.”

“Well,” David huffed, eyes sliding away from Matthew. “An EMP—”

“—is an electromagnetic pulse,” Matthew cut in.

“Yes. Do you want to repeat it one more time to remember?”

“Nope.” Matthew tapped his temple. “I think I’ll remember it this time.”

Jade stifled a laugh. David uttered an irritated sigh and continued. “There are two types: natural and manmade.”

“Like most things,” Matthew said.

“Would you like to explain what they are, Matthew? Sounds like you have quite the background in them.”

“Nope. Carry on.”

David called Matthew an unkind name under his breath. “As I was saying, there are two types of EMPs. Generally, the natural variety comes from solar flares. Solar flares are actually great bursts of energy that shoot charged particles into space. Since we’re so far away from the sun, we don’t usually feel the effects, but once in a while, the flares can be so strong that they disrupt Earth’s magnetic field. Historically, one occurred in 1859 called the Carrington Event. A massive solar flare hit Earth, that had observable effects from China to Europe to the poles. It didn’t cause many problems, but then again, 1859 wasn’t as dependent on electricity as we are now.”

“So the EMP is like throwing a rock into a pond,” Jade explained.

“Somewhat. This burst of energy can essentially fry electronics. You’ve seen a transformer blow, right?”

Matthew nodded, somewhat taken aback at David’s knowledge in the subject and miffed David hadn’t talked this openly about it in the first place. Then again, Matthew probably would have made fun of him, but that wasn’t the point.

Jade shook her head in negation. David bit his lip, looking for a new example. “You’ve felt static electricity though, right? Gotten a shock before?”

“Oh yeah,” Jade said. “I shocked my front tooth on a dare once and oh god, it hurt so bad.”

“Okay, so think of the shock as the EMP and your skin or,” he paused, “tooth as the earth. The EMP is a powerful force that doesn’t last long, like the static shock, but it leaves your skin tingling. It surprises you because it's an overwhelming release of energy. It makes you jump. The EMP is like that. It overwhelms the electrical wires that make up our whole civilization—the skin of our modern society—until the wires become so oversaturated that they explode and stop working. Which leaves your car electronics fried. Your power stops working. Your banks, your phones, everything. Ka-put.”

“Like a busted transformer,” Matthew said under his breath, thinking of seeing one shoot sparks on his street when he and Kathleen first moved in together, how the lights in their apartment had flickered and gone out until the electric company showed up to fix it.

“So what about the manmade ones?” Jade asked.

“To me, that’s the scarier proposition,” David admitted. “The use of a manmade EMP would, most likely, be an act of war. A nuclear bomb would be shot at us, but instead of it landing in one place and exploding—like creating a crater or trying to take out a city—it could be detonated above the country and have the same impact as a solar flare. Same big area of impact. The particles would affect the Earth’s magnetic field over that particular country and wipe out technology as we know it.”

“How do you know so much about this stuff, Dad?” Matthew interjected. He’d never heard of an EMP, much less its uses as a weapon. How did David, who called Tumblr the Tumbles, know this much about EMPs? His father—the guy who deliberately forgot his heart medication because he wanted to be tough—how did he know about nuclear weapons?

“I was in the Army, Matt,” David said as if miffed. “This was a real concern back in my day. It posed a threat to national security. Those e-bombs could take out advancing technology and shift us back to the 18th century.” He looked around. “It might have already.”

“No way.” Matthew shook his head. “If that was a possibility—a real possibility—we would’ve been warned. The government would’ve issued an announcement that we were under attack from a foreign nation. Hell, NASA would’ve been putting out data and papers about an oncoming solar flare. There’s no way we wouldn’t have seen this coming.”

Jade looked up at Matthew, distress written across her features. She pulled her legs up against her chest, as if to make herself as small as possible. Her lower lip trembled.

“Not likely,” David said. “Telling the country an attack like that was imminent would incite a mass panic. People would be looting and causing chaos instead of wandering around, figuring the power would come back on. If people were told to prepare for something like that, it would cause everyone to become overwhelmed, and you’d most likely have more people hurt or harmed as a result. You’ve seen the people we’ve run across. Many haven’t been that compassionate.”

“You sound like this is doomsday,” Matthew said.

“I’m saying doomsday is a possibility. One that makes sense with our current situation. The United States never implemented infrastructure back-ups in case of an EMP attack. Not only would our technology be shifted back to the Victorian era, we would be at an even greater disadvantage in our attempts to remember how to survive and thrive in those conditions. We aren’t prepared for it. Dealing with the ignorant fallout of our nation would be far easier than warning everyone that it was coming.” David spread his hands. “When I was in the Army, I never heard if our country had developed an e-bomb, but it was rumored that other countries did. We talked about what we would do, but it was low priority. Who’s to say that’s not what’s happening right now?”

“But which one is it?” Jade asked softly, a bright sheen of tears coating her green eyes. “Are we under attack? Or is it a natural disaster?”

“At this point, it’s hard to tell.” David shrugged.

Matthew’s mouth went dry. He never thought of it that way—that this event could be just as catastrophic as a hurricane or a terrorist attack. The miles between him and his wife and children suddenly seemed daunting. He began to spiral, thinking of how they would get back home, how would they pay their bills if the banks were out, how would they find food if shipments couldn’t get into the States and truck the food across the nation, how would they survive in general? More importantly, how long would it last? If they didn’t have backup systems in place and everything that relied on electricity was wiped out…it could be a very long time.

He knew little about the past. What he recalled from history about the 18th century was an industrial revolution where child-workers got their hands caught in unreliable factory accidents. That air and water pollution were real concerns. Sweat beaded on his brow. No. He couldn’t fall into a black hole of what-ifs. America’s weakness of relying on technology and modernity might be its undoing, but Matthew needed to stay focused on the here and now. Otherwise he’d fall into a deep depression. He’d go insane wondering about the fate of his family.

“It’s okay,” David said, drawing his arm around Jade and pulling her into a one-armed hug. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Sometimes I can be too realistic and that leaves little room for empathy.”

Jade uttered a soft sob and gripped David’s arm for reassurance. Matthew took in a deep breath, studying Jade’s petite frame, wondering how the young woman would survive on her own. He knew she could—but what if Cheese and Chris had found her? What if she ran into a group of people who meant her harm? She looked so fragile and lost. A thought began to form in the back of his mind, and he decided to take the risk, see what she thought of it.

“Where are you heading, Jade?” Matthew asked softly, wondering if giving her provisions to help her on her way would even be enough. He had to hope there were still good people out there who would go out of their way to offer aid to those in need. If it was Allison out there alone, he hoped someone would do the same for her.

Jade pulled back from David with a watery smile. “Sorry. It’s all so overwhelming.” She looked up at Matthew. “I’m not going anywhere specific. I’m just drifting. Finding temporary work here and there just to make ends meet. My mother and I…well, we aren’t speaking at the moment. She kicked me out. I’m…well, I’m alone.”

She turned big doe eyes on Matthew, and his heart twisted for her. He asked, “But you’ve been traveling a lot, then, sounds like. You know the roads and towns around here pretty well?” David furrowed his brow up at Matthew, but Matthew knew David wouldn’t be upset at him for offering help to Jade—after all, she wasn’t going to hurt them. He had his arm wrapped around her like he'd already taken her under his wing.

Jade nodded and wiped her eyes. “Yeah, I know the towns along the interstate, I even know some of the people in the area. Not great friends by any means, mainly acquaintances, but I can get along. I know you guys have places you need to be. You don’t need to stick around on my account.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like we wanted to leave you,” Matthew said. “Quite the opposite, in fact. I just think it would be great if we could stick together for a while and help each other out. David and I haven’t traveled on foot before and would love to utilize your familiarity with the area to get back to Galena. We own a small hotel around there. If you wanted, you could stay at the hotel for as long as you needed. As a thank you for helping us.”

“Oh,” Jade said, looking lost.

“I didn’t mean that to sound weird,” Matthew fumbled. “I just meant that if you’re on your own, the hotel is a safe place to wait for whatever is happening to settle down. You’re more than welcome to stay with us if you’d like.”

He was sure she was going to say no. They barely knew each other, and he didn’t want his offer to seem unsafe—a young woman asked to accompany two older men to a hotel in the mountains all in the name of safety? Sounded like a horror-thriller plot. He wished he could go back in time and rephrase everything better, handle the situation better than he just did.

But Jade’s suspicious, lost appearance melted away. Matthew felt she was sizing him up with the calculating gaze of a cat, trying to figure out his motivations. A smile spread across her lips, and while tears still shone in her eyes, she looked almost relieved at Matthew’s offer. “That would be really nice, actually,” she said. “I’d love to join you guys. Galena, here we come!”

15

The prison loomed behind Kathleen along with her SUV—that stupid hunk of metal that refused to start. She couldn’t figure out why, but after waiting and trying and waiting some more, she decided action had to be taken. Both her and Allison’s phones were dead. She couldn’t figure out why they didn’t have signal, but she couldn’t reach anyone. The idea of heading back into the prison filled her with dread, but once she saw other people stranded like she was, she didn’t feel so alone. At least they were in downtown Chicago. So as she and Allison left the parking lot on foot, she knew they’d be able to find help.

That’s what she’d thought. Instead, they’d waited uselessly around bus stops and subway stops, tried to hail taxis, all with mounting fear that nothing was working. Cars piled up in the streets. Electricity had been cut for miles. No one knew what to do. But over the last few hours, Kathleen's panic had downgraded to calm acceptance. Problems became obstacles, and as a math teacher, she always knew how to solve for X. After everything, Kathleen stormed into a bicycle shop with Allison in tow, prepared to purchase two bikes to get them home to Galena.

The upcoming trip filled her with dread, but she was fit and Allison was young, and people biked cross-country all the time. So what if no one could use their phones. What did it matter if every mode of reliable transportation had been wiped out. This was fine. It was fine. It was.

“I don’t see why we can’t walk to check on my friends,” Allison grumbled. “Kaycee is literally fifteen minutes away. And Lynn is in mid-town, I bet we would get signal there. Biking is a complete waste of time and money. What’s the point when we won’t even need them later? Seriously, Mom.”

Kathleen picked out a hybrid bike with gears and sized it up to Allison who crossed her arms.

“Mom, did you hear me? I’m talking to you. Mom. Mom!”

“Allison, what will Kaycee and Lynn be able to help us with? You can’t call them, we don’t even know if they’re home, and I’d rather not wander all over Chicago just so you can see your friends.”

“You said I’d be able to see them today.”

“Yes, I did. But I did not expect us to almost get stuck in a prison riot or to have our car die, or to be biking back to Galena because the whole of Chicago is out of power. I think those supersede any promise I made so you can talk with Kaycee about the latest trend in Snapchat.”

“I can’t even get on Snapchat so how would you know? You’re like Grandpa sometimes.”

“Hold this.” Kathleen shoved the hybrid at Allison. Allison paused, almost refusing to take the bike, but then grabbed the handles. Kathleen straddled a silver mountain bike for herself, flipped the gears. Next to her, a couple frantically filled a backpack with energy bars. Down the way, she heard shouting as another customer demanded to know why the store was out of refillable water bottles. The industrial ceiling lights were off. “Good enough,” Kathleen said and pointed to the front of the store like directing a plane to land.

“This is so stupid!” Allison said, yanking the bike to the front. The line was long, and as they waited, Allison tumbled from outspoken indignation to seething, silent rage. The cashier frantically copied down credit card numbers, refusing certain purchases over a specific limit to the outraged grumble of others. As soon as they got to the front, Kathleen slapped all the cash she had on hand down and put the rest on her credit card. Allison glared at her openly. The cashier wrote Kathleen out a receipt, eyes darting between her and Allison, wisely keeping her chirping greeting to a minimum.

Outside, a warm breeze brushed against Kathleen’s face. She hopped on her bike, waiting for Allison to follow. Allison stared at her and finally said, “I’m not going with you. I’m going to see Kaycee.”

“Allison, listen. I’m not letting you head out on your own with everything that’s going on. I know you’re upset, but we aren’t going to stay in the city. We need to backtrack and head home. This is the best solution.”

“You can go, then. I’m staying.”

“Listen to me, young lady.” Kathleen could feel anger bubbling inside of her ready to catch and flare. “You are acting like a child, and until you are out of my house you will obey me, do you understand?”

Allison swallowed hard. “I don’t want to.”

“You don’t have a choice. In a year, you’ll be on your own and can do whatever you want. But right now? I make the rules. And I’m not going to have you wandering the streets of Chicago so you can paint your nails with Kyleen or Kristy or whatever her name is. I get that you’re mad, but you do not want to push me.”

For a moment, Kathleen didn’t think Allison would listen to her. Finally, Allison huffed and slammed her leg over her bike, glowering at Kathleen. Kathleen shook, her victory hollow. She didn’t like having to be so mean to Allison. The two of them rarely fought, so having to pull out her big mom-guns was something she didn’t like to do. Allison could be angry—she understood Allison’s disappointment, and she never wanted her children to feel like their feelings weren’t valid—but there was a level of maturity that hadn’t been reached yet. Kathleen wasn’t going to stand for a teenage tantrum because Allison didn’t get what she wanted.

The fear in Kathleen’s belly amplified as they took off down the street, the sound of their tires smooth against the concrete. All she wanted was to go home and see Matthew, but she couldn’t. Not yet. She had one more stop to make before they could pedal home.

* * *

The warehouse was on a lot of derelict land, the building near collapse with flaking paint and a crumbling door. The surrounding neighborhood was in a similar state. Even so, a marquee indicated that the warehouse was occupied by a range of businesses. Kathleen had barely worked up a sweat on the ride to the building, even though it had been a silent journey. Allison punished her with one mind-trip of a silent treatment, but Kathleen didn’t care. She almost relished the silence instead of the constant whining about how she’d betrayed her daughter’s trust by not letting her see Kelsey. Kylie. Ugh, Matthew would’ve remembered what Allison’s friend was named.

Maybe she was becoming like David.

Dismounting her bike, she walked up to the building with trepidation. “I’m going to use the bathroom real quick.”

Allison cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. “In there? It’s abandoned.”

“There’s a business. Look.” Kathleen pointed to the faded white paint on the front that said Levi’s Warehouse.

“That’s what you’re going with?” Allison shook her head. “Unbelievable.”

“Yeah,” Kathleen said, handing the bike to Allison to hold. “Be right back.”

“Whatever,” Allison said, waving her hand in dismissal.

Silence surrounded Kathleen as she entered the building. Dust filtered down from the rafters, disturbed after she’d shut the door hard behind her. Shuttered doors faced her on either side, along with a directory, indicating where each business was housed. While the place appeared to be downtrodden and broken, it was huge. Kathleen had to admit that Chicago was an expensive place. It made sense that businesses would take a risk on a low-grade rental like this to start out.

A set of stairs looped up to a second level. A set of metal-backed chairs stood off to the side in a makeshift reception area. A piece of old cabinetry had been nailed into the wall, covered in oil and wood chips, but what caught her eye wasn’t that the piece must have been an antique, but a red and white sticker plastered on one of the cabinet doors that read, “Virginia is for Lovers.”

She couldn’t help it. She laughed out loud.

Max, you stupid brilliant idiot. She remembered him whispering it to her in the prison, recalled an older memory of a childhood trip out east to Virginia to visit semi-estranged family members. The sticker-ad had been everywhere, and Max had thought it hilarious—saying it at the end of every conversation as if it were a lewd joke. Her aunt had pulled Max aside and explained the history of the sticker, that it wasn't just a joke, and it was one of the first times she remembered seeing Max take something seriously. Chastened, he’d left to walk the beach alone, but Kathleen had followed him and found him standing knee-deep in the ocean. His usual flashy winks were replaced with a pensive look. She'd bumped his shoulder, told him to chill out. He put his arms around her in a hug and said, “I promise I have more substance to me than you think.” In that moment, Kathleen discovered her younger brother was so much more than she'd realized. A lesson she kept learning.

“Virginia is for Lovers,” she said quietly and pulled the sticker-coated cabinet door open. Inside, nestled a nylon bag. Dust flew into her face as she dislodged it. Zipping it open, she ruffled through a change of clothes, tennis shoes, a plastic bag with rolls of money and passports. She dug in further and gasped as her hand slid over familiar smooth metal. A handgun. She pulled it out, let her hand get used to the weight.

A .45, and similar to the one her father used to own. He’d taken them out shooting at the range when Kathleen was young. Max had loved the rush of shooting. She hesitated, unsure what to do with the weapon—where was it registered? If she got caught with it, she’d be in deep trouble. Wasn’t there supposed to be a bar code? What if this was…she didn’t know, mob-bought? Illegal without the serial number? Oh god, why was she still holding it, especially when she knew she was going to leave it behind.

The sudden rumble of a car engine just outside the shop made Kathleen start, and she shoved the goods back into the nylon bag. Her heart filled her throat. Hearing a car engine was unusual at this point, and she hoped Allison had flagged them down, asked for a ride somewhere—

“Mom!” Allison's panicked voice cut through Kathleen's thoughts. “Mom!”

Before she knew it, Kathleen catapulted toward the exit at high speed. She burst through the broken door and saw an old beige truck spewing diesel in black clouds from its exhaust pipe. A group of young men surrounded Allison, all baby-faced with patchy beards of the recently graduated. Kathleen’s bike was suspended between Allison’s white-knuckled hands and one of the young men in a tug of war. The young man wore a sloppy grin, as if he enjoyed getting a rise out of Kathleen’s daughter.

Kathleen thought the fuel that would explode her temper would be impatience or her daughter’s anger with her. She never expected her daughter’s safety to be the final match that would burn through her.

“Hey!” Kathleen shouted, barreling towards the gaggle of men, fury a fire in the pit of her stomach. A thousand what-ifs ran through her mind, but front and foremost was the way she hadn’t been there for Max when he needed her. There was no way she’d let her only daughter be harassed by a group of boys in a truck, thinking they were hot stuff.

The gun felt natural in her hands. She pointed it straight at the man-child who was yanking on the bike suspended between him and Allison. Oh, she was ready to give them the scare of their lives. Kathleen Riley would not be tormented. Kathleen Riley would not be terrorized. “Get your hands off my bike.” She leveled the gun.

“Whoa, whoa, hold it right there, lady—”

“Hey lady, put the gun down, we’re just having a bit of fun—”

“What did I say?” she asked. “Are you listening to me? Put the bike down and get away from my daughter. What did I just say?”

“To put the bike down, ma’am.” The man-child dropped Kathleen’s bike, and Allison gripped the handlebars, wheeled it behind Kathleen.

“Do you think she even knows how to use that?” another young man, safely on the bed of the truck, uttered to his friend.

Kathleen’s father echoed in the back of her mind: hold your stance, cup the gun with two hands, loosen your elbows for the recoil. Tensing leads to inaccuracies. “I will count to three. One.”

The boys scrambled back, leaping over the truck like monkeys.

“Two.”

Beside her, she could feel Allison tremble with fear.

“Three.”

“Go, go, go!” One of the men in the back of the truck bed shouted, smacking the roof. The driver revved the engine and peeled out in a screech of hot rubber on pavement, spewing diesel that lingered in the street. Kathleen kept the gun up and level until the beige monstrosity had left her line of sight. Only then did she lower her weapon.

“Oh my god, Mom.” Allison breathed out a sob.

“It’s okay, honey,” Kathleen said, bringing her arms up and around Allison. Adrenaline whooshed out of her, and Kathleen thanked her lucky stars that the young men hadn’t pushed their luck, because the clip to the gun still remained in the nylon bag.

16

“I can’t believe you did that,” Allison sobbed, her face pressed against Kathleen’s neck. Kathleen held her daughter tight with one arm while the hand still clutching the gun began to shake. A hysterical laugh bubbled in her throat. I pointed a gun at someone. If she were able to time-travel back to meet with the frazzled math-teacher she’d been a few months ago, she’d tell her past self: Remember those stupid shooting lessons your father gave you? Well, sister, they’re going to come in handy. Her past self would never believe it. Never.

Kathleen rubbed Allison’s shoulder and planted a kiss on the crown of her head. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Don’t mess with a mother,” she said. Allison’s tearful laugh in response sounded both shocked and amused.

Bending down, Kathleen rummaged in the nylon bag, finding both holster and clip, sliding the clip in place. She double-checked the safety was on before putting the buff-colored leather holster belt around her waist. Sliding the gun into the holster itself, she ensured the gun rested in the small of her back. There was no way she would be caught without protection again.

Kathleen’s surroundings took on a new sinister quality as she studied the run-down buildings, the pot-hole roads, and the dirtied, broken windows. She saw threats around every corner and realized how ridiculous they looked: two women saddled with two mountain bikes in a bad part of Chicago. No wonder they’d been attacked. They probably looked like easy targets. In the distance, the dark skyscrapers looked like the bars of a jail cell.

What if the men-children in the truck hadn’t backed down? What would Kathleen have done to protect Allison if she hadn’t had the gun? Shooting was not like riding a bike. If push came to shove and the gun had been loaded, she knew she wouldn’t have been able to pull the trigger for fear that she’d somehow hit Allison. She wasn’t a superhero, for goodness sake. She was Kathleen Riley, math teacher and new hotel owner.

“What are we going to do now, Mom?” Allison asked in a small voice. “Should we try to knock on some doors and ask for help?”

Who knew what other shady types lurked in the shadows? No one had come outside to see what had happened just now or to see if they were okay. Both she and Allison were too vulnerable, and it didn’t look like they’d be finding help here in any shape or form. If they went further into the city, they’d probably find more of the same: neighbors turning on neighbors, people thinking they could take advantage of others. “I don’t think so, honey. We need help, but not from anyone around here.”

“Should we go further into the city to my friend’s house? Maybe their car works, or maybe they have a landline we could use to call Grandma and Patton.”

“I’m sure your friends would be helpful, but I want to get out of the city, not go further into it.” Kathleen said as she pushed her braid behind her shoulder.

“Then we’re just going to bike to Galena? We don’t have anything except for Uncle Max’s bag.” Allison looked scared and exasperated. “Mom, how are you not falling apart right now?”

Kathleen gnawed at her lip. Ideas rolled around in her mind, all of them leading back to one person: Rhonda. She pulled her bike up and mounted it. “I always taught my students to solve for X. My X right now is getting us home or at least somewhere safe where we can re-evaluate everything. Chicago is great, but a lot of bad stuff still happens, and we aren’t in…well, a good area. Falling apart just isn’t in the equation right now.”

Rhonda would know what to do. Rhonda would be able to help them.

“Right.” Allison straightened, tilted her chin up. “Can’t solve the old pygathoreaum theorem with tears.”

“Pythagorean.” Kathleen handed Allison her bike. “I know the fastest way anywhere is in a straight line, but we should make a pit stop.”

“Where?” Allison asked as she hopped on her bike.

“To see an old college friend of mine,” Kathleen said, flipping her brakes a couple of times, even as anxiety rushed through her. She might want to see Rhonda, but would Rhonda want to even see her again? “Her name is Rhonda.”

“And why would we go see this mystery person? You’ve never mentioned her before,” Allison said as she pushed off the curb.

Kathleen followed, hanging the nylon bag on her rubber handlebars to stall for time. Old hurts bubbled up in her chest, but she wasn’t a twenty-something young woman anymore. She was older and wiser. She could face what had happened between her and Rhonda, and acknowledge her part in driving a wedge between them. “We used to be roommates. She lives close to the city.” Or used to, anyway.

“Okaaay,” Allison said slowly, shooting Kathleen a furrowed-brow look. They picked up the pace, scooting around stalled cars and zipping past buildings.

Kathleen sighed. Okay, yes, she was being a little aloof and vague. “She’s a prepper.”

“So like she has an underground bunker and a mountain of canned food in case of Y2K?” Allison scoffed. “C’mon, Mom. Doomsday people like that are nuts.”

Kathleen squirmed on her bike seat. Allison sounded just like Matthew. He’d said something similar after she’d introduced Rhonda to him. “It’s not like she’s getting ready for the rapture or thinks the world is going to crash in flames. She’s simply prepared in case something happens. Like if something like this happens.”

The roads widened, and Allison and Kathleen maneuvered around a couple of stalled cars, seeing that ahead of her lay even more vehicles that had died. Some people had their hoods popped open, peering at the engines. Up ahead, others asked for help and were met with derisive looks. Some were even shooed away by their neighbors as if they were bad dogs annoying people in a park. Kathleen watched it all with deep suspicion, hoping to get away from these strangers as fast as possible. The incident with the young men and the truck had rattled her, and she saw everyone around her as a threat.

“I don’t think we need to hide underground just because the power has gone out,” Allison mumbled.

“Allison, I don’t mean to sound harsh, but we were just attacked in the middle of the day. Those men”—ugh and she hated calling them men, they hadn’t earned that title— “tried to steal from us in broad daylight. That’s not normal. Everything that’s happening isn’t normal.”

“People get robbed or shot or kidnapped all the time. This is Chicago. Some of my friends have been mugged before. What happened to us was wrong place, wrong time. You can’t think the worst of everyone because of one bad experience,” Allison countered, but her usual sulky tone didn’t come through. Kathleen relaxed, because this was an Allison she could debate and communicate with, a young woman who could stand her ground and have opinions, but at the same time listened to reason. Maybe she’d been doing an okay job at this whole parenting business.

“But we wouldn’t have been in that situation to begin with,” Kathleen said. “Look around you. Cars aren’t working everywhere. People aren’t banding together to create a safe place for others who are stranded. Polite society isn’t functioning. We need to act and think as if we are in danger because we actually are. We don’t know who will try to take our bikes next. I think it’s a good idea to find Rhonda, talk with her, see if she has any insight. She may be willing to help us and she’s just outside the city.”

“Sure she’ll help us. Right before she tries to convert us to some cult-religion or convince us we’re the last people alive and can only eat Spam for the rest of our days.”

“That’s your father talking.”

Allison went quiet. “Do you think Dad and Grandpa are okay?”

That was another bomb of worry that sat in the dark recesses of Kathleen’s mind, ready to go off. If she worried and stressed about Matthew, she’d never be able to think straight. She’d lose sight of what she needed to do to keep Allison safe. Why did this have to happen now? Why couldn’t it have happened when we were all back at the hotel? “You know your father...” she began.

“Yeah, I do. And him and Grandpa together?” Allison shook her head in mock concern. “They’re always getting into trouble.”

Kathleen laughed. “I’m sure they’re fine. Grandpa’s a vet, he knows how to handle hard situations, and you know your father can talk his way out of anything.”

At least Patton is at the hotel, Kathleen thought. Allison was her beloved eldest, but Patton was her baby, and he would’ve been scared by the men in the truck if he’d been with them. While Allison had a tender heart, she had some maturity. Or at least, was forming that maturity. For now, as the streets began to clog with cars and humans again, she thanked her lucky stars that Allison was like her shadow, weaving around those in their path with expertise. Kathleen wished they could pull away from the populated area. She actually began to wish for the open road.

“Hey, pretty lady, hang on,” a man shouted, breaking from the dead engine of his Pontiac and jogging up alongside her bike. “How much for your bike?” he asked. “Hey, how much?”

“Not for sale,” she said, turning her face away and focusing on the road ahead. Allison pulled up closer beside her. Tension radiated in the air.

“Hey, I’m talking to you, slow down, hey I just want your bike!” His jog turned into a run, and Kathleen imagined him jamming a stick in her spokes, sending her sprawling on the pavement while he took her bike and left her bleeding without anything on the side of the road.

“I said it’s not for sale. And I’m not pretty.” Kathleen pedaled faster, outstripping the man and weaving through another Tetris-puzzle of cars. Behind her, the man shouted something obscene that created a ball of anger inside her.

Allison fell silent as Kathleen fumed, keeping up with Kathleen’s fast pace, before finally asking, “You really think this Rhonda woman can help us? She’s safe?”

“If nothing else, she can give us some water and food for the rest of the ride home,” Kathleen answered. Mentally, she tallied up the miles. A hundred and eighty-eight to Galena. Then, the trek up the mountain. In a car, it would take a couple hours, but on a bike it would take well over twelve if they pedaled non-stop. While Kathleen liked to take walks and stay somewhat active, she was no long-distance biker, and the idea of riding west with no water or supplies made her nervous. “At the very least, I could ask to borrow a hat,” she added, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m getting freckles.”

“Skin cancer is a real thing, Mom.”

Kathleen snorted. “I’d rub baby oil on my legs to get a tan in the summer when I was your age.”

“That’s what I’m saying! You’re susceptible to it. If this Rhonda has sunscreen, you will use it.”

A small smile spread over Kathleen’s lips. “I promise, honey, I’m only doing what I think is best.”

“I know, Mom.” Allison pedaled until she rode side by side with Kathleen, transformed from Kathleen’s shadow to an equal. “Let’s go find this prepper friend of yours.”

17

“So where do you come from originally?” Matthew asked Jade as they reached the top of the exit near the gas station and began to walk shoulder-to-shoulder along the interstate.

Jade shrugged, ducking her head a bit, and sticking her hands in her jacket pockets. “Here and there,” she said. “It’s not a new story. I don’t really have a home at the moment. My mom and I didn’t get along, so I ended up striking out on my own. I’ve been doing odd jobs since and just traveling around trying to figure everything out.”

“Do it when you’re young,” David said. “You don’t want to waste your life doing something you hate and figure that out too late.” He adjusted his backpack with a grimace.

Matthew held his tongue. He wanted to ask if David needed a rest, but he knew his father would dismiss the idea because, to him, the rest at the gas station had been long enough.

“Do you want me to hold your backpack for you?” Jade offered and held her hand out.

“Oh no. That’s all right. I can manage,” David said.

“Honestly, you’ll be doing me a favor,” Jade said. “Since you’re letting me stay at your hotel rent-free and all. I have to pull my weight some other way. Don’t make me beg.”

David eyed Jade up and down as if waiting for the punchline. She stared at him, waiting. Matthew couldn’t help but think the interaction was like wolves circling each other and trying to decide if the other was a threat.

Finally, David slipped his backpack off and handed it to her without a word. She grinned as she put it on, slumping forward for a moment in an overdone pretend stumble, as if the pack was far heavier than she’d expected. “Holy cow, you’ve been carrying this for how long?” she joked.

David chuckled and Matthew stared at him for a moment, astounded. Somehow, this petite young woman had pried through David’s many-layered shell and gotten him to do something Matthew hadn’t been able to this whole time. Somehow, she’d gotten David to let her take care of him, and he didn’t even know her. Matthew didn’t want to jinx it, but secretly he wondered what it was about Jade that had charmed his father.

As they continued on, Matthew decided to try and get to know Jade again. “Is there someone who will be worried about you that we should contact? Let them know you’re coming to Galena?”

Jade shrugged again. “Not really. I’ve been on my own for a while. I’m like a Midwest nomad.”

“Are you sure your mother won’t come looking for you?”

Jade stuck both hands deep into her jacket pockets. “Probably not. I don’t like talking about her, honestly.”

“Sorry,” Matthew said, knowing his apology sounded insincere.

“It’s no big deal. What else is there to say? She didn’t like me and I don’t really like her, so we don’t talk. That’s all there is to it.”

“Stop prying,” David said to Matthew under his breath. “Don’t make her uncomfortable.”

Matthew sighed in irritation. This whole trip David had been on his case for trusting too easily, and yet here they were with a near-stranger as a traveling companion, and who was going to stay with them, he might add, and David was telling him to stop prying. It was downright ironic.

“I’m not uncomfortable,” Jade said in a false whisper. “Some things are better left in the past is all. Plus, talking about family drama is always so boring. Our time would be much better spent playing a game.”

“Oh really,” David said, sounding amused. “What did you have in mind?”

“I spy with my little eye…” Jade said, “something blue.”

“The sky,” Matthew said, looking up.

“Nope!” Jade sounded entirely pleased with herself.

“That sports car,” David said, pointing to an abandoned bright blue two-seater up ahead.

“Nope! Try again.”

David chose another object. The game continued. Matthew noticed that David hadn’t clutched his chest in a while. Jade’s ability to coax out David’s good humor made Matthew envious. Their easy back-and-forth banter was something he’d carefully cultivated with his father over the years, and yet somehow Jade had managed to accomplish it in seconds.

“Is it Matthew’s baby-blue eyes?” David asked.

“Yes, it is!” Jade said and batted her eyelashes in David’s direction. David laughed out loud.

“How is that fair?” Matthew demanded. “I can’t see my own eyes!”

“Not my fa-ault,” Jade said in a sing-song.

“You’re a cheater,” Matthew said, even though he didn’t really mean it.

As David spied something yellow, Matthew thought that perhaps it was a good thing Jade was able to get David to open up. She joked and teased him, and yet their banter was all fun and games without any bite. If he really considered it, she’d probably be a good addition to the Riley clan. Allison would love her vintage fashion style. She’d be great for Patton. He could already hear the two of them hanging out and watching old movies together. Kathleen might frown on Jade’s influence—he could already hear her asking, how did our children become best friends with a vagrant?—but he knew she’d come around. Ruth would take Jade under her wing immediately, especially when she saw how well the young woman got along with David. Even if Jade had a bad home life in the past, Matthew was positive she could find happiness, or even a new start, at the hotel with them.

“Hello?” Jade asked, waving a hand in front of his face. “Are you even paying attention?”

“Sorry,” Matthew said, shaking himself out of his inner thoughts. “What was the color?”

“Purple,” David said.

“I thought we were on yellow,” Matthew said.

“That was forever ago,” Jade lamented. “The game isn’t that boring.”

Matthew looked around wildly for something that color. Finally he spotted a bumper sticker, and when he pointed they both laughed at him as if in on some inside joke. That was it. He couldn’t let the two of them gang up on him.

Soon enough, Matthew noticed that they’d fallen into an easy-going rhythm. David’s breathing came easier and they had to stop less and less. Matthew couldn’t deny that even if the world seemed to be ending, at least the companionship was good.

Up ahead, they approached another exit with a small town clustered around it. He almost opened his mouth to ask if they wanted to stop and search for more supplies when Jade’s laughter abruptly ended. Matthew glanced at her to see she’d bitten her lower lip in concern. “What is it?” Matthew asked, following her line of sight. A dark shape hunched against the guardrail, looking the worse for wear.

David slowed and squinted at the person. “Are they hurt?” he asked.

“I’d say so,” Matthew said, noticing the way the person seemed to be relying on the rail for support. “We should see if they need any help.”

“He’s got a heart of gold,” David said to Jade. Jade didn’t respond. Instead, she tightened her ponytail and then shoved her hands into her pockets again.

As Matthew got closer, he identified the person as a young man, probably in his early twenties. His face had a pale, sweaty sheen to it as if he’d recently been ill. “Hi,” Matthew called out.

The man lifted his head and gave Matthew a weak smile. “Hi yourself,” he said back.

“Are you all right?” Matthew asked, coming to a stop near the man. “You don’t look well.”

The man lifted his hand to shade his eyes, and he pushed his auburn hair off his forehead. “Not really, but I’ll be okay…” he trailed off. “Well, well, well. Jade, is that you?”

“Hi, Dev,” Jade said quietly. She took a step away from David, as if she wanted to put some distance between them and herself. David raised his eyebrows at Matthew and Matthew gave a little shrug. Jade seemed to have an unhappy past. Perhaps Dev was part of it.

“What kind of suckers decided to let you travel with them?” Dev asked, trying to stand up straight. His right arm was cradled against his chest and he hissed in pain as the slight movement jostled his elbow.

“Very funny,” Jade said.

Matthew noticed her tone had flattened and decided to try to be pleasant at the very least. He cleared his throat. “What did you do to your arm?”

Dev winced. “I think I broke it.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Jade said and crossed her arms.

“Aw, don’t be like that, Jade,” Dev said and tried to give her a winning smile. “I was trying to get into the clinic for, ah, you know. Stuff.”

“And I assume this clinic didn’t have the stuff you needed,” Jade said.

“I don’t know,” Dev said, babying his arm. “I didn’t get the chance to look inside.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Matthew asked and crouched next to Dev. The arm looked swollen, and the way Dev babied it made Matthew believe Dev’s assumption was correct.

“I tried to break a window,” Dev said sheepishly.

“With your arm?” Jade asked.

“It always works in the movies,” Dev said. “You know what I mean. You cock your elbow back and smash the window in. Only I think I smashed my arm, instead.”

“How you and I lived together once is a mystery.” Jade shook her head in disbelief.

“Aw, it wasn’t that bad. You’re the one that kept picking fights with our landlady.”

“Our lease said she was supposed to include electricity and she never paid the bill. I didn’t like having the lights shut off on me.”

“Since we were behind on the rent, I don’t think you had much ground to stand on.” Dev huffed in pain and pulled his arm closer to his chest.

“I was looking out for you!” Jade shouted.

“Well, if you want to make up for it, you can help me get back into that clinic to get some meds,” Dev finished. “The place has been abandoned for days and they have a ton of medicine in there.”

“Why would you need to get into there in the first place?” David asked.

“My grandmother is sick,” Dev said smoothly.

David glowered at the young man.

“What kind of clinic?” Jade asked.

“Just an urgent care. They have a pharmacy in it, though. No one’s been there for forever. I usually don’t ask random people to help me break into a clinic,” Dev said with a tight smile, “but I’m in a lot of pain and then there’s my grandma to think of…”

“Yes, your poor grandmother. I wonder when I’ll ever meet this woman you dote on so,” Jade said sarcastically, but then her face drew up in thought as she turned to Matthew. “You know, we could go check it out.”

“Why?” David asked.

“You need your medication, right? Maybe the clinic has your heart medicine,” Jade said.

“But if no one’s there, how would we get it?” Matthew asked and felt incredibly naive when Jade’s face softened. “You’re saying we would break into the clinic,” Matthew finished.

“Well, yeah,” Jade said. “Think about it. The clinic might have the medicine David needs. If we could get the pills he usually takes, it would make the trip to Galena a lot less stressful.”

“I don’t like it,” David said. “I’m not stealing anything.”

“It wouldn’t be stealing,” Jade said. “You’re in need. That’s what it’s there for. It’s not like you’re a junkie looking to score pills.”

Dev cleared his throat but then let out a soft gasp as he jostled his arm. “I can show you where it’s at. We could try to get inside and get whatever you need. I mean, pharmacies are there to help people. What kind of help is it when they’re locking up everyone’s meds?”

Jade fixed Matthew with a steady stare. “This would be our best chance to get David his medication. You won’t be finding another clinic like this and while Dev is…well Dev, he’s not that bad of a guy.”

“I’m a great guy,” Dev said.

“A dumb guy,” Jade countered.

Matthew hesitated. He wanted to give in and follow Jade to the clinic. If they had David’s medicine, he could stop worrying so much that he was pushing David too far too fast. Having the correct medication would be a relief and put his mind at ease. He wouldn’t have to watch David like a hawk anymore.

But at the same time, it was still breaking and entering and on top of that, stealing. Some serious crimes, for sure. “I don’t know,” he said slowly.

“There aren’t any cameras,” Dev said, looking excited. He staggered fully to his feet. “All the electricity has been cut, so the alarms are off. The only thing we have to get through are the locked doors. This time, I’ll use a rock or something.”

“I don’t know about this, Matt,” David said softly.

Matthew felt on the fence himself.

“What happens if you don’t get the medicine?” Jade asked as if sensing Matthew’s indecision. “Like really, what’s the worst-case scenario?”

“I have another heart attack,” David said quietly.

“Which is more likely if you strain yourself,” Matthew said. “We’re putting you at risk doing all this exertion.”

“If we’re going to get back to Galena, we need the medicine,” Jade said in a matter of fact tone.

“We should do it,” Matthew said, warming to the idea. He turned to David. “We have to, Dad.”

David took in a deep breath and nodded. “All right.”

“Awesome,” Dev said. “It’s not far. We’ll be in and out. Nothing is gonna happen except that we’ll take exactly what we need. It’s awful how they restrict it, you know?”

“If you say so,” Matthew said. “Lead the way.”

Dev lurched towards the exit, his arm still tight against his chest. They followed him down the exit. Then Dev veered down a side street lined with small businesses. As they walked anxiety filled Matthew. He hadn’t considered how far this clinic might be from the interstate. He hoped it wouldn’t take long to get there. He didn’t want to be in a new, strange place far from where they needed to be heading.

At some point, David nudged Jade and broke the silence. “Was Dev an old boyfriend of yours?”

“Something like that,” Jade said with a forced grin, but she didn’t elaborate.

“Well, you’re too good for him,” David grumbled.

Jade’s smile softened. “Thanks, David.”

“It’s just up here,” Dev said, pointing to a white-painted building sitting next to a long brick warehouse that looked like a center for offices. A red and blue sign above the door stated the clinic was called Caring For All, but as they got closer, Matthew saw the darkened windows had already been smashed in. Someone had clearly beat them to the punch.

“Aw, man,” Dev whined. Walking closer, he peered inside and then stepped over the jagged rim of broken glass to disappear inside.

Matthew paused before the window. He looked back at Jade and David, unsure if they should come with or stay outside.

“Maybe I’ll come with you,” Jade said to Matthew. “David, do you think it’s a good idea to be our lookout?”

“Of course,” David said. “I don’t like this, though. You don’t know who could be inside there.”

“They’ll get Dev first,” Jade said with a wink and stepped over the glass and into the clinic.

Matthew sighed and followed. They’d come all this way, after all. He wasn’t about to be deterred by a couple broken windows. Following Jade, he eased over the broken glass and into the clinic’s lobby. Guest magazines had been scattered over the floor. A side table and plush chair had been overturned. He picked his way over to the counter and followed Jade through the side door to the connected pharmacy.

The place had been ransacked. Most of the shelves were empty. Dev muttered under his breath, going through a cabinet as if looking for something specific. Jade walked around the shelves ahead of Matthew and Matthew picked up a white bag that had fallen to the ground. Picking it up, he peered at the label stapled to the top.

Harrison, Karen. The dosage was one every four hours for some medication he’d never heard of before.

His heart sank. The white bag crunched as his hands tightened around it. The clinic wasn’t just a factory full of pills like Dev had made it out to be, and Matthew felt ashamed of himself. He knew better. Of course he knew better. The medications here were for parents or even grandparents, all waiting to be picked up until someone came in here and stole them all. Stole them like Matthew had planned on doing.

“Everything’s gone!” Dev snarled. In anger, he pushed a stack of papers off a small desk. They skidded across the floor with a soft whoosh.

Jade scoffed. “Figures. I should’ve known better.” She opened up a drawer in the desk, but it was empty. Her hands went back into her pockets and she shrugged and looked at Matthew as if waiting on him to let them leave.

Matthew placed the bag for Karen Harrison up high on an empty shelf. Hopefully, if she came looking, she’d be able to find her medication easily. “Should we wait for him?” he asked, looking at Dev who was still rooting through the pharmacy’s empty shelves as if something might be there.

Jade paused for a moment. “Nah. We should get back on the road. This was a dumb idea.”

It was, Matthew thought. It really was. Looking back on it, he was somewhat aghast that he’d gone along with Jade’s plan from the start. He knew better, but his fear for his father had clouded his judgement.

David gave him a grim look when they emerged from the clinic, and his face darkened even more when Matthew shook his head in negation. “All cleaned out,” he said.

“Well, it was worth a shot, I suppose,” David said.

Was it? Matthew thought as they turned back the way they came and headed for the interstate.

18

Sweat ran down Kathleen’s back, making her shirt stick to her, as she and Allison biked on four-lane roads, an indication that they were leaving the city proper and edging toward the far outskirts of Chicago. Her lungs burned as she cycled through waves of exhaustion and sudden spikes of second-wind energy. Allison, however, looked like she could ride for days. A sheen of sweat coated her face, but otherwise she looked downright comfortable. Youthful stamina. Kathleen huffed in both pride in her daughter and annoyance at herself—Allison had easily outstripped her, and Kathleen struggled to keep up.

The tall industrial houses and close-knit apartment buildings slowly transitioned to acres of flat land without shade. The sun beat down on their heads. Kathleen blew loose strands of her hair escaping from her braid away from her face and hoped that the last few hours hadn’t been in vain.

She still had no idea if Rhonda lived in the Chicago area. While the two of them had been fairly close once upon a time, Kathleen hadn’t spoken to her in years. All because of a boy. Her boy, actually. Matthew Riley, the young man with the flashing smile and eyes she got lost in while getting her degree at the University of Chicago. He knew how to make her laugh, he had ambition, and he listened to her when she talked, but he had opinions. One of those opinions was about her roommate, Rhonda.

Prepping was in Rhonda’s blood and bones, a generational trait like her black curly hair, passed down from mother to daughter. Kathleen recalled lazy Sundays after studying when they’d share a bottle of wine and Rhonda would teach Kathleen the basics of pickling cucumbers or how to grow herbs in repurposed fruit cups suspended by twine from their small apartment window. Kathleen shrugged when Rhonda came home with a black bucket she’d planned to bury in the backyard, and began to stuff it full of freeze-dried bags of food, water bottles, and respirator masks. Matthew had been over, watching Rhonda fit the supplies in the bucket like she was designing a maze, his eyebrow cocked so high Kathleen worried he might have wrinkles from it.

“Why are you doing that?” Matthew had asked, and Rhonda had fixed him with a stare, saying, “By the time you need things like these, Matthew Riley, you’ll be fixing a leaky roof in the middle of a thunderstorm.” For Rhonda, that explained everything. Kathleen had stifled a laugh, refilled all their wine glasses, and distracted Matthew’s judgments by explaining parabolas to him.

“Where does Rhonda live?” Allison asked, breaking Kathleen out of her memories.

“Somewhere around here,” Kathleen answered.

“So, you don’t know if she lives here anymore.” Allison laughed in disbelief. There was a slight huff of exertion in her voice.

“I’m sure she does. She usually sends me Christmas cards.” Although Kathleen hadn’t gotten one in years, she still left room for hope.

“Why haven’t I heard of her before?” Allison asked, pinning Kathleen with a blue-eyed stare.

Kathleen let out a small groan as the old ache of anxiety tightened in her stomach. “We had a falling out.”

“How come?”

“Because I wasn’t a very good friend. I didn’t stand up to your father like I should’ve.”

“Whatever. You’re always telling Dad what to do.”

“Yeah, now I am. But before when I was young and wasn’t being reprimanded by my own child for tanning in the summer, I was twitterpated.”

“Twitterpated?”

“Yeah, as in Wow, Matthew is so handsome, wow, look at all his muscles—”

“Gross, stop, you don’t have to be so detailed, seriously.”

Kathleen smirked. “Anyway, Rhonda was my good friend, but Matthew saw her habits as…paranoia.”

“I mean, I can’t blame him.”

“Rhonda and I used to live together, and I never saw it as weird. People were people, you know? Some liked to smoke cigarettes, others liked to fixate on how green their lawn was, and Rhonda prepped. Her mom used to do it, and Rhonda saw the value in it.”

“But Dad was a jerk about it.”

“He was young, too. He constantly tried to get Rhonda to admit she was being paranoid and that prepping was a waste of time, and eventually things just got awkward between them. We never really had a full-blown fight about it, but it was like I suddenly had two worlds I had to care for: my friend and my boyfriend. They couldn’t co-exist in the same place.”

“And you were twitterpated.” Allison tossed a grin over her shoulder. “All those muscles.”

Kathleen rolled her eyes. “I should’ve never told you this.”

“I had no idea my father used to be such a stud.”

“Nope, nope, I don’t want to have this conversation,” Kathleen said. “Anyway at one point, Matthew and Rhonda actually did get into an argument when Rhonda decided to eat up some of her canned goods that were going to go bad. She was making dinners of canned meat, freeze-dried soups, all that kind of stuff. Your father pointed out it was useless to keep eating decades-old food just because Rhonda thought the world was going to end, and well, it just got out of hand from there.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. That sucks.”

“It did suck. Rhonda and I lost touch after that. Then after Matthew and I got married, it was as though I’d drawn a line in the sand. Picked a side, as it were. That side wasn’t Rhonda.”

“But you think she’ll be nice to us if you see her again?”

“Fingers crossed.”

“Plus, you have your head on your shoulders now,” Allison said airily. “No so twitterpated anymore.”

“Oh hush. Who taught you to be so ornery, huh?”

“You, Mom.”

“Well, I’m very disappointed in myself, then. Turn here, honey. I think it’s on this street.”

The housing development was a mix of updated homes and modern architecture. Green lawns spread as far as the eye could see. Aspens shaded the streets. Kathleen was nervous about seeing Rhonda again, yet excited at the same time. She wondered if her old friend had changed since their time apart.

“Which one is it?” Allison asked, standing up on her pedals to stretch her legs as she coasted her bike.

“Near the end of the lane,” Kathleen said, hoping she was right. As they passed another set of idyllic homes painted in variations of gray, green, and periwinkle, the sound of construction cut through the air. Kathleen pulled up to an older looking, red-painted home with a Victorian vibe to it. Three boys stood along the side of the house, boarding up the windows of the ground floor. Kathleen’s brakes squeaked as she came to a halt. A smile spread across her face. She could think of no one else who would have their children outside with nails perched between their lips and hammers in their hands covering up the windows to their home. This was Rhonda’s house, still.

She dismounted her bike. Allison followed suit. Together, they placed their bikes on the lawn near the sidewalk. This neighborhood felt safe enough to leave them there for the time being. She approached the three boys and held up her hand in greeting. “Hi,” she said.

They turned to look at her suspiciously, and Kathleen detected Rhonda’s trademark scowl replicated on the oldest one’s face. Just a little bit younger than Allison, she bet. She’d had no idea that Rhonda had kids, let alone three. “My name is Kathleen. I’m friends with your mom, Rhonda. Is she here?”

The youngest boy, somewhere around Patton’s age, slipped behind the other two. The eldest grabbed something that rested against the side of the house and stepped in front of his siblings. Kathleen’s blood ran cold as he raised a shotgun up, fixing it straight at Kathleen. Blankly, she tried to place the make and model as if it were a car, but she had no idea what kind of shotgun it was. On instinct, her legs spread slightly to ensure she effectively stood between the gun and her daughter. Fear filled her once more, and she hoped she could explain herself to the boy before he accidentally hurt her.

“Don’t come any closer,” he said, his voice warbling between the alto of a boy and the deeper tenor of a man. “Don’t even move. My mom has never talked about you. How do you know her?”

Kathleen held her hands up and heard Allison’s breath hiss out sharply from behind her. Her heart pounded in her ears. Should she have pulled out her own gun? Have a Western-style stare-down with a young boy? She would never be able to point a weapon at a child, let alone the child of her old friend. “I haven’t seen your mother in years. We used to go to college together. I’m Kathleen, and this is my daughter Allison. I’m friends with your mother, Rhonda. Is she here?” Repetition, repetition. Keep calm.

The middle boy whispered something to the eldest, but the eldest shook him off. “I don’t know you,” he said to Kathleen. “What do you want?”

“For you to put that gun down,” Kathleen said and felt Allison’s hand curl against her lower back, inching for the gun. “But I’ll take talking to your mom if she’s available.”

“Mom!” the youngest one yelled, his dark curls spilling down over his forehead. “Mom, someone’s here. Mom!”

The front door creaked open, drawing Kathleen’s attention away from the shotgun barrel for a split second. The pounding of her heart filled her ears and nearly overwhelmed her, but she plastered on a terrified smile. She recognized those dark curls, those long legs. That scowl.

“Tyler Patrick, what in the name of anything are you doing?”

Same voice, only now, paired with the authoritative outrage of a mother whose children have committed a social faux pas. Kathleen supposed pointing a gun in someone’s face would be on that list.

Steps pounded down from the porch, and the lean woman in a V-neck tee-shirt bounded over to the boy. Rhonda pushed the barrel of the gun down so the long tip pointed at the ground, just before she yanked the weapon out of her son’s hands. “I never thought you of all people would be so irresponsible,” she hissed. “At least you have enough sense to make sure the safety is on.” She handed the gun to the middle child, who gave Tyler a smug look. Rhonda turned back on Tyler with a shaking finger and fury coloring her cheeks.

Tyler looked down at the grass in shame.

“You’ll earn that privilege back when you master proper gun safety. How can I ever trust you with a weapon if that’s how you treat it? A gun is not a toy. It is a tool. You never, ever do something like that again. You only point a gun if you intend to fire it. Were you really going to kill…kill…” She stumbled as she looked up at Kathleen.

Kathleen grinned, hands still up in the air. “Always love the warm welcome, Rhonda.”

“Kathleen?” Rhonda’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Holy hell, did my son just point a gun at you?”

“He did,” Kathleen said, letting her hands drop. “It’s good to see you again, all the same.”

“I feel the same?” Rhonda said, and then laughed as it came out as a question. “Sorry. It’s not every day my son puts people in danger. What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I was in the area when my car died. My daughter Allison and I have had quite the journey. I hoped, well I hoped you might be able to help us out.”

“Of course,” Rhonda said, beckoning Kathleen with open arms. “Goodness, it’s been years. Get in here.”

Kathleen stepped into Rhonda’s embrace and felt her old friend’s arms wrap around her tight. Tears pressed against her eyes then, and she wondered if it was safe to cry, say she was sorry, ask for forgiveness for a wrong done as a young woman. She half expected Rhonda to yell at her, to run her off the property, turn them away because of Kathleen’s inaction years ago.

“Wasn’t sure we’d be welcome,” she mumbled against Rhonda’s shoulder.

“That’s why I was always the smart one,” Rhonda muttered back and Kathleen heard it: choked tears lingered in Rhonda’s voice too. “You’ve always been welcome, Kathleen.”

“How could I ever forget?” Kathleen said, and decided a couple tears could leak out. She sniffled, and Rhonda tugged her closer. “All those years we were cruel about doomsday, and now it looks like it’s actually here.”

“I can’t take all the credit.” Rhonda pulled back and chuckled. “You look baked from the sun. Come inside, put your feet up. Let’s talk.”

19

When Kathleen stepped inside Rhonda’s house, she had to take a moment to let her eyes adjust. The windows surrounding the living room had been boarded up, allowing only a little light inside. The sound of pounding nails started up again, and Kathleen figured Rhonda’s boys were hard at work once again. Kathleen recognized the black canisters sitting nearby from that awful day when Matthew and Rhonda had first butted heads, alongside cases of bottled water and boxes of freeze-dried food. Allison raised an eyebrow at her as they surveyed the room.

Kathleen gave a slight shrug and turned to Rhonda. “I figured you’d have a back room full of provisions,” she said lightly, hoping Rhonda wouldn’t be offended by her curiosity.

“I do,” Rhonda said. “I’d just restocked before the power went out and haven’t had the chance to bury the new canisters or put things away.”

“That sounds like more like you,” Kathleen said and was grateful to see Rhonda return her smile.

Rhonda beckoned them to follow her into an open kitchen area with wide glass sliding doors in the back that allowed her to look out over her property full of planter boxes full of herbs and vegetables. “Have a seat,” she said.

Allison and Kathleen slid into the wooden chairs lining the round kitchen table. Kathleen stifled a sigh of relief. Her muscles burned from the trek, and yet at the same time her bottom ached from sitting too long on the bike’s semi-padded seat. Rhonda grabbed two water bottles and set them down in front of Kathleen and Allison with a small smile.

“You’re a life saver,” Kathleen said, unscrewing the cap and downing nearly half the bottle in one go. The cold rush of water filled her belly. She swished some around in her mouth, finally feeling quenched.

“Thank you,” Allison said softly, taking smaller, more measured sips.

“Of course.” Rhonda plopped down next to Kathleen and leaned back in her chair, her hands crossed over her stomach. Food supplies were lined up alongside the table: cans, cutting boards full of produce being chopped up, glass Mason jars, salt, vinegar, and other various containers for it all. It was as if Rhonda was trying to save everything that she could. Kathleen noted the fresh smell of dill and rosemary in the room. Rhonda waved at the goods. “My refrigerator went out this morning. Only a couple years old. I tried calling the manufacturer, but my phone wouldn’t work. Tried calling my husband on our landline and barely got through to him before our call cut out. So, after that, I started going through everything I had.”

“To preserve it,” Kathleen said.

“Yeah.” Rhonda’s brown eyes stared Kathleen down, as if daring her to say anything negative.

Kathleen swallowed another gulp of water, remembering similar prepper lessons that had gathered dust on the shelves of her memories. Of how Rhonda would give her advice by telling Kathleen what she was doing, hoping to impart some kind of knowledge even if Kathleen didn’t show a direct interest in prepping or survivalism. Kathleen wished she’d paid attention back then and retained even a sliver of what Rhonda knew. Now, that skillset was invaluable.

“Rhonda, I am so sorry for what happened.” Kathleen leaned forward, feeling the apology of years and years finally having room to breathe. “For treating you the way I did. Matthew said some terrible things because he thought he was right, and I should’ve stood up to him. At the time, it was just easier to let our friendship fizzle out.”

“It’s okay.” Rhonda offered a soft smile, and reached forward, clasping Kathleen’s hand. “I forgive you. I could’ve been more open with Matthew, not egging him on like I did.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“I certainly do. That blonde boy was so…arrogant. Thought he knew everything. I wanted to take him down a peg. Make sure he was worthy of you.”

Kathleen blinked back tears. “Thanks, Rhonda. I…do you think we could try again? Be friends? Not because of whatever is happening now, but because it would be nice to have an old friend again.”

“Of course, honey.” Rhonda patted Kathleen’s hand. “If old friends didn’t have fights and boy-problems are they really even friends?” She winked and Kathleen snorted a laugh. “Now tell me about your family. Your daughter is Matthew’s clone, that’s for certain.”

“But with more smarts.” Allison tapped her forehead.

“Oh, good lord,” Kathleen said.

Rhonda laughed. “Like I said. Matthew’s clone.”

The tight knot in Kathleen’s stomach slowly relaxed as she began to tell Rhonda about her family, the conversation coming easily. “I have a younger son, Patton. He’s becoming quite the studious tween with a love of old cinema, especially horror or apocalyptic. Right now, he’s with my mother-in-law, Ruth. Matthew and I bought a mountain hotel near Galena and they’re up there, getting it ready.”

“Oh, wow,” Rhonda said. “That’s wonderful. Quite different from the city-slickers you used to be.”

“Tell me about it.” Kathleen shot Allison a quick glance, on the lookout for teenage angst at the mention of their move, but Allison maintained a look of composure, as if she was used to it by now. “My father-in-law, David, had a heart attack, which put things into perspective for us. We started thinking about our future and what we wanted out of life. We were both so overworked, rushing from place to place, and we nurtured this back-pocket dream of owning a place in the mountains. It seemed like the right time.”

“I bet,” Rhonda said, even as her eyebrows furrowed. “So your whole family is up at your hotel?”

Kathleen shook her head and pushed her frizzy braid off her shoulder. “David and Matthew went to Madison for the day. Patton and Ruth are up at the hotel. I’m in Chicago wrapping up some loose ends.” She didn’t want to have to explain Max, go through that whole backstory and hear the weighted silence as Rhonda contemplated what Kathleen’s brother had become. She didn’t want to either justify her brother or call him out as a bad man.

“Your family is scattered,” Rhonda said with concern as she picked at the herbs on the cutting board, sending the scent of rosemary into the air. She rubbed one of the angular leaves and brought it to her nose, inhaling deeply.

“Not too far,” Allison jutted in. “Madison is about a couple hours from Galena.”

“By car,” Rhonda corrected. “But they could be stranded like you two. In fact, I bet they are.”

“Do you know what’s happening, then?” Kathleen asked. “Do you know why nothing seems to be working? My SUV just died out of nowhere.”

Rhonda shifted as if suddenly uncomfortable. “I have an inkling. I don’t want to scare you, though.”

Allison sat up straighter. “What is it?”

“The lack of power—no electricity, cars dead, phones not working—and especially because of the time frame, the whole event feels orchestrated. Since everything has ground to a standstill, I personally advocate that it’s an EMP attack.”

Allison leaned forward, her blonde hair falling over her shoulder. “Like a solar EMP?”

Kathleen stared at her daughter in open shock. “Excuse me?”

“An EMP,” Allison explained, looking exasperated yet pleased at Kathleen, in the way kids do when they know more than their parents. “An electromagnetic pulse. We did an astronomy lesson focused on the sun. I learned about coronal mass ejections—these great bursts of energy that are emitted from the sun and can have devastating effects on the nearby planets. Some of these solar flares are so strong they can reach Earth and they can mess with the electricity.”

“I’m impressed,” Kathleen said. “I’ve never learned about those in my whole life. And I’m a teacher, even!”

“Well, I’m not sure astronomy would be part of your curriculum, Mom. Solar EMPs will mess with the electricity, but they don’t usually knock everything out like this. If all of this is a solar EMP, I doubt Madison or even Galena were affected. Dad and Grandpa are probably back at the hotel, wondering where we are,” Allison said, putting a piece of mint leaf in her mouth.

Rhonda reached over and pushed a bowl of raspberries in Allison’s direction. “Eat. Those will go bad if you don’t. I was going to make freezer jam, but feel free to have some.” She rubbed her forehead as if considering how to proceed. “You’re right about solar EMPs, Allison. That’s why I think this event is a foreign attack. If it were only small areas of Chicago that were out of power, or weird electromagnetic effects, I’d guess a solar flare. But this? I keep coming back to a nuclear bomb. If one were detonated above the country, it would cause an EMP that would take out our electronic infrastructure, and the effects would be far-reaching and long-lasting.”

“How long?” Kathleen asked and took a raspberry out of the bowl, placing it in her mouth. The sweetness burst on her tongue.

Rhonda shrugged. “Who knows? Can you think of anything that doesn’t run on electricity these days? All our communication, our transportation, our food delivery, is all based on computer programming. If an EMP wiped all of that out, we’d be thrown back in time, technology-wise. Many newer cars dependent on computer machinery to run would be inoperable. It’s probably the reason why your SUV wouldn’t start, Kathleen. We’d need to figure out how to grow our own crops because let me tell you, you won’t be able to pump gas into a car—if you have it—because the electronics are fried.”

Kathleen swallowed hard. “They can’t just…boot the systems back up? Do a hard reset? You know, turn it off and back on again?”

“Can you boot back up a computer once the motherboard has been destroyed? Can you recover a car whose engine has exploded?” Rhonda shook her head. “Unlikely. You’d need new parts. Lots of new parts. How are we going to get them? We can’t communicate with anyone. We can’t get shipments in from other countries and get those goods where they need to go. There are so many small details that people don’t think about, and all of those details have become automated. Take out the automation and the whole system grinds to a halt.”

A new type of dread twisted Kathleen’s insides. She wondered if she was going to be sick. Her mind sought an alternative explanation: It can’t be! There’s no way something like that could happen! Just last night, she’d had her phone plugged in, her music casting through her wireless speakers, her car full of gas and ready to drive. How could she have known that in hours, she’d be biking across Illinois and sitting at Rhonda’s kitchen table?

What else could have destroyed the power grid? Lots of angry squirrels? An uprising of…of…trees with wild branches that snagged in the transformers across the whole state? She put her head in her hands. Those were more outlandish than an EMP—and EMPs were actually taught in schools.

Rhonda reached out and rubbed Kathleen’s shoulder to comfort her. “Kathleen, I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I think it might be better if you and Allison stay here with me for a while. To put it plainly, it’s just not safe out there. When people get threatened, they get ugly. When their whole society begins to crumble? It gets worse.”

The rubbing continued as did Rhonda’s voice at Kathleen’s silence. “I’ve stocked up for about a year. Food, water, supplies, and this home will be a defensible compound by the end of the week. You’re more than welcome here. In fact, I’d feel a lot better if you stayed. We could try to contact your family and let them know.”

Kathleen looked up, knowing she looked a mess. Hair disheveled, dirt on her face, sweat under her armpits. Her blouse did her no favors. For a split second, she considered what it would be like staying with Rhonda. Matthew would be out of his mind with worry if she disappeared without a word. Rhonda was right. They relied on instant communication too much. And leaving Patton without knowing where his mother and sister had gone? She couldn’t do that to her family. They had to get home, especially if it was as bad as Rhonda indicated. “I can’t,” she said softly. “My husband, my son…they’d probably get in more trouble trying to find us.”

“I understand,” Rhonda said. “Most likely they’ll be traveling back to your hotel, so at least you’ll know, generally, where everyone will be heading.”

“That’s our compound, at least.” Kathleen tried to smile, imagined it to be sickly looking.

“Well, rest up.” Rhonda stood and went to her fridge, opening it up and pulling out foodstuffs before shutting it quickly. “We’ll have you on your way in no time. Could you imagine, though, Matthew trekking across the Midwest and ending up at my front door? He’d think I was holding you hostage.”

Kathleen snorted a laugh. “He’s mellowed out. You two would actually get along.”

Rhonda nodded. “That’s the best thing about time. Gives people a chance to grow. It’s funny, Matthew kind of ended up being like my husband. I had to convince him about all this prepper stuff, but now he’s on board. Relax, Kathleen. Eat some food, drink some water. Take a breather. You’ll be on the road soon enough.”

Silence settled around them as Rhonda stood up and made them ham and cheese sandwiches, rounding out the meal with fruit. Having eaten, Kathleen felt her energy spike. Her head cleared, the emotional and physical mist of exertion finally giving her a view of the landscape she and Allison were stuck in. Allison had put her head on her arms on the table and fallen into a doze.

Then Rhonda sat back down at the kitchen table and chatted with Kathleen about her kids, filling the air with notes about her husband and three children—all boys down to their core, she’d grown sick of buying trucks and Legos, thought Kathleen lucky to have a girl to spoil—and her husband was a successful carpenter out speaking with their neighbors about what to expect in the coming days. Many of their neighbors tolerated Rhonda as a prepper, but now that things looked dire, she hoped they’d become more understanding and open to learning about how to prepare. Warmth filled Kathleen as she listened to Rhonda’s life, a kind of happiness that someone she’d known had lived well and had a strong family and community to surround herself with. Finally, Rhonda disappeared and soon returned with two backpacks in her hands. She had stuffed each one with folded-up silver space blankets, headlights, pocketknives, and packets of sealed food.

“What is all that stuff?” Kathleen finally managed to ask.

“I’ve got supplies to spare, so I’m making sure you have something to make it to Galena. You’ll want to head out soon,” Rhonda said as if answering all the questions swirling in Kathleen’s mind. She pointed to the goods in the bag. “USB headlight and solar charger. Even though the sun might have created this situation we’re living in, we still need it to survive. Couple blankets in case you’re out at night, Swiss Army knives, and food. Freeze dried ice cream for sugar, jerky for protein, and your homemade Rhonda-specialty: trail mix full of nuts and candy and fruit for energy.” She zipped up the bag and handed it Kathleen. She placed the second one next to Allison who was still deeply asleep.

Snores came from the table, and Rhonda’s face crumpled in quiet distress. “I know you have to leave, but Kathleen, promise me you’ll be careful. I didn’t want to scare Allison, but you can’t trust anyone out there. You need to protect your daughter at all costs.”

Kathleen nodded, thinking of pointing an empty gun at strangers, thinking of her daughter being overwhelmed by men trying to take from her. She let out a shaky breath. “I will.”

“Good. Let’s get you on the road.”

Kathleen went to Allison and rubbed her back gently. Allison blinked and smiled at her, rubbing her eyes. “Fell asleep for a moment,” Allison said with a yawn. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing much. Feel better?” Kathleen asked.

“Yeah. Time to hit the road?”

“You know it.” Kathleen held up the two backpacks. “Rhonda gave us supplies and snacks to tide us over.”

“That was nice of her,” Allison said as she got to her feet.

At the front door, Rhonda hugged them. “Now you both listen to me. Make sure you stay away from areas that can box you in. Without visibility, you won’t be able to see your options or get out of anywhere quickly. Stay away from crowds. Keep your supplies scattered in different places so if you lose one of the bags, you at least don’t lose everything. This last one is going to sound weird, but if you see anyone coming—especially if they have a car—don’t hesitate to hide. I hate to say it, but people aren’t trustworthy, and once they force you into a car, who knows how far they’ll take you.”

Allison nodded. Kathleen thought about the truck back in Chicago. What would she have done if they’d taken Allison instead of simply trying to steal her bike? She shuddered at the thought.

“This is all to keep you safe. I know it sounds paranoid,” Rhonda winked at Kathleen, “but necessary. Okay?”

“Got it,” Kathleen said, leaning in for one last hug. “Thank you for everything.”

“Don’t be a stranger,” Rhonda said, then whispered in her ear. “Remember what I said. Protect your daughter even if that means not trusting strangers.”

Kathleen pulled away and hefted the bag over her shoulder. Together, Allison and Kathleen walked across the lawn to their bikes. Rhonda’s boys were still pounding nails into the house, and the eldest offered a tentative wave of his hand. “Sorry about earlier!’ he yelled.

Kathleen waved back at him as she mounted her bike. Soon, her rubber tires rumbled across the pavement and Rhonda was a small figure in her metaphorical rear-view mirror, waving goodbye and good luck.

20

The interstate expanded before them like a black ribbon heading into the horizon. Matthew couldn’t remember how long it had been since he, David, and Jade had left the clinic behind and gotten back on the open road. Everything was more of the same. Same angry people. Same dead cars. Same endless sun.

Fatigue had begun to set into Matthew’s legs, his calves burning whenever they stopped for David to catch his breath. They shared food and water, each being careful to only take what was needed. To Matthew’s surprise, David still seemed taken with Jade despite the diversion to the pharmacy, telling her stories of the River Rock Hotel. Hearing the laughter bouncing between them made Matthew glad Jade had joined them. The fringe on her jacket swayed back and forth hypnotically, casting metronome-like shadows on the ground as the two walked ahead of him.

Thoughts of Kathleen and Allison filled his mind. He wondered where they could be. Were they stuck at the prison? Had they managed to leave? He knew Kathleen would try to get home to Galena, but he worried that they might run into people like Chris and Cheese. Matthew smiled to himself, imagining what Kathleen would do if ever confronted with a jerk like that, knowing the jerk would tuck tail and flee after one look from his wife.

In front of Matthew, David slowed, his shoulders hunching. Jade paused and put her hand on his father’s shoulder. Matthew slung his backpack off his shoulder and searched the first aid kit they’d bought at the sporting goods store for medicine. Nothing but Tylenol. Since they left the clinic, David had finally admitted the chest pain had upgraded from sporadic uncomfortable irritation to a low drone of pain. For the millionth time, Matthew wished his father had brought his actual prescription medicine. He also wished they’d found some at the pharmacy. If only they had something that could help, to just relieve the pain.

People took aspirin to help alleviate heart pain, Matthew remembered from those hazy stress days as David recovered from the initial heart attack. Low-level dosage to help prevent another. Anything else was too dangerous to take. Jade shot a concerned look over David’s head, and Matthew uttered a sigh of resignation. They had to address this.

“Dad, we need to make another stop,” Matthew said, his resolve strengthened by Jade’s encouraging nod.

“What for?” David gasped, one hand propped on his hip while the other clenched at his heart. “Just stopped not too long ago.”

Matthew gave her a look that said See what I’m working with here? Jade’s smile widened in understanding. “We need to get you something to stop your pain, or we’ll be taking a permanent stop. I remember your doctor saying you could take a low dosage of aspirin. You remember that, too, right?” Matthew asked.

David went quiet, straightening up as much as he could. Matthew hoped his father would admit to his limitations, acknowledge his pain, like he had back at Wilson’s Antiques. When he’d owned up to the fact he’d left his life-saving medicine at home.

Moments passed. David’s fist over his heart relaxed minimally. Matthew scanned the road ahead of them, grateful that the next exit wasn’t too far up the road, and made a game plan. No matter what David said, Matthew would find aspirin—would force it down his dad’s throat if it came to it.

“Fine,” David growled. “Yes. Low-dose was the aspirin they recommended, but that stuff is just for prevention. At this point, it would be better if I had regular aspirin to help with the pain. But you’re not leaving me or Jade here while you gallantly ride off to the next store. We’re coming with you.”

Relief rushed through Matthew. “Sounds good to me. Fingers crossed someplace nearby is open.” Jade wrapped her arm around David and together, arm-in-arm, they strode toward the exit. Passing a blue sign that had the symbol for fuel, Matthew wondered if they looked like a Wizard of Oz crew and hoped he wasn’t the strawman with no brain. As they walked, David’s pain seemed to ease and by the time they strolled down the exit, he seemed perfectly normal. Matthew wasn’t surprised, but knew another episode lay just around the corner.

Matthew’s own heart soared, though, when he saw the OPEN sign hanging in the door of the gas station at the bottom of the exit. Once, the dirty white siding paired with the red sign that had seen better days might have given him pause, but at this point, he was happy for any place to be accepting customers. Two gas pumps stood in the lot, and as they walked by them, Matthew noted the older style, lacking screens and instead having a counter that ticked upward as the gas dispensed. A small smile crossed his face. Who knew he’d be nostalgic for gas stations, and he found himself happy to see the kind of technology that was being phased out when he was young.

The door didn’t ding when Matthew pushed through, but the place was small enough that a bell seemed unnecessary. Matthew nodded a hello at the clerk sitting on a stool at a counter. A magazine was spread out before him, and the ponytailed man barely acknowledged them as they walked inside. Matthew beelined for a small shelf sporting tiny sizes of Tylenol, antihistamines, sunscreen, mosquito spray, and the treasure of his day: aspirin. He picked up the small bottle, and looked down to catch the price. Thirty dollars? Was that real?

Shaking his head and cradling the bottle like it was gold, he began to look at the other items in the store. Price signs had been written over and then re-written over in marker. Before, at the other gas station, the prices had been ridiculous, but now things were priced to the extreme. Forty dollars for a bag of jerky? Fifteen dollars for a bottle of water? What a racket. What selfishness to take advantage of people in this way. Sometimes he couldn’t stomach the audacity of people.

Jade rounded the aisle, her hands stuck in her jean pockets. “Crazy, isn’t it?” she asked and tilted her chin at the row of chips priced upwards of fifty dollars.

“I think we’d be out two hundred bucks if we had the munchies,” Matthew joked. “Jerky, chips, and drinks would eat up all our funds.”

“No kidding. Ridiculous.” Jade threw a venomous look over her shoulder at the cashier. “Scum of the earth, that’s what people like these are like. Think they can take advantage of everyone. You found aspirin?”

Matthew waved the bottle at her. “Thirty dollars right here.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jade’s mouth dropped open. “Two days ago, that would’ve been seven dollars at most. Vultures. They’re all vultures.”

Matthew shrugged. “We have power bars that will last, if we’re careful. Even though eating the same thing fills me with dread, I can’t morally support this thirty-dollar markup. But we need it.”

“We need it,” Jade repeated and followed Matthew as he headed for the front counter. The clerk turned a page of his magazine and raised an eyebrow as Matthew slid the aspirin bottle to him.

“Cash only,” the clerk said.

“Not sure how anyone could have enough cash to afford things in this store,” Matthew said, and carefully counted out the bills, wondering if the clerk would give them a discount, indicate they could take the medicine for twenty dollars, at least.

“Supply and demand, sir.” The clerk smirked at him. “If you want something, you should be prepared to pay the price for it. The things in my store might have been worth pennies a couple of days ago, but now I know their worth.”

“Listen, we’re just trying to make our way home,” Jade butted in, sliding an elbow onto the counter. “Can’t you give us a discount? If we paid ten bucks for a bag of chips, you’re still making a crazy profit. I could give you fifteen bucks for this aspirin bottle and you’d still be a rich man.”

“Hey lady, I’ve got mouths to feed, too. Can’t let anyone go hungry, especially in this new economy, and if you’re not willing to pay, someone else will.” He closed his magazine and leaned over the counter. Wisps escaped the long dark ponytail tied at the base of his skull.

“It’s extortion,” Jade said, her eyes narrowing.

“I’m a negotiating man. I’m not unreasonable. Maybe you can convince me why I should reduce the price for you and your”—his eyes flicked to Matthew—“friend here. We can discuss it in the back room. I can make you a private offer.”

Rage boiled inside Matthew. Was this clerk implying—of course he was—Matthew should punch him—

Jade’s eyes narrowed to slits, and the animosity radiating off her felt like a new kind of EMP. “You know what you can do with your private negotiation? Shove it where the sun don’t shine.”

She pushed off the counter as the clerk’s face darkened, and continued. “I’d like to get a cop in here, see what he thinks about the crap you’re pulling. How you tried to solicit me for a certain kind of work. Don’t think you’d be open for long. Don’t think these so-called mouths you’re feeding would mind if you’re gone, either.”

“You no good bit—”

“Can’t believe you’d try and assault me,” Jade said, a nasty smile curving her lips. “And you don’t even know how old I am.” She quirked an eyebrow at the clerk. Matthew’s breath stalled in his lungs. David sidled up next to him as they watched Jade verbally transform the man into a quivering ball of fury.

“Get out of here,” the clerk snarled. “You keep wasting my time? I’ll waste you. I can defend myself against vagrancy and believe me, sweetie, I won’t hesitate to if you keep pushing me.”

“Hey, now—” Matthew started.

“That’s no way to talk—” David said at the same time.

Jade smirked and reached behind her jacket, and like lightning, a small handgun was suddenly balanced in her hands, aimed straight for the clerk. “You know what’s a waste?” she asked. “You are.”

Two gunshots rang through the air, the sound deafening in such a small space. Matthew watched in slow motion as the clerk jerked backwards, surprise written across his face. Two red marks appeared on his chest and he looked down at them in shock before he collapsed off the stool and onto the floor. The ring became a howl as sound came back to Matthew’s ears, and when he looked up to Jade in shock, she wore that same smirk.

Had she been carrying a gun this whole time?

“Worthless waste of space, huh,” Jade uttered.

“You shot him,” Matthew said, dropping his pack and jumping up on the counter to check on the man, looking down at the clerk’s motionless body. His ponytail covered his eyes, and dark blood seeped from the gunshot wounds and through his blue uniform. “You killed him,” Matthew whispered.

“Is he dead?” David asked, his voice tinged with horror. He backed away from Jade, his hand over his heart again, eyes wide as he looked at the young woman. “Matthew, is he dead?”

Matthew wanted to call to the clerk, ask him if he was okay, but he knew nothing would happen. The man’s chest didn’t move at all. Not even a choke or a gurgle emitted out of his mouth. Jade’s aim had been precise, taking a man’s life without a second thought. Would she do the same to them if she didn’t get her way?

“Now that jerk is gone, let’s get a move on,” Jade said, and holstered the gun somewhere in the fringed jacket. She snagged Matthew’s backpack from the floor and unzipped it, then began shoveling chips, candy bars, and jerky inside it.

“I don’t think so,” David stuttered, his eyes round as coins as he watched Jade pack the bag full of food.

“You just killed someone!” Matthew said, sliding off the counter. “In cold blood. You didn’t even hesitate.”

“Please.” Jade threw Matthew an irritated look, as if his reaction was unfounded. “That guy was scum of the earth, just like that guy you told me about, the one who smashed in the car windows. I did the world a favor. Made it a safer place.”

“No,” Matthew said, feeling dread welling up inside of him. He couldn’t even look at Jade without seeing the clerk’s stunned reaction as he toppled over and died. “That was murder. You can keep that bag. We can’t go any further with you, Jade. We can’t travel together anymore. You’re…you’re dangerous.”

Jade froze and turned to him, the look in her eye the same kind of disbelief he’d see in Allison’s gaze when he told her she couldn’t stay out late. “Are you for real?” she asked, eyes flickering between Matthew and David. “You’re going to abandon me because that waste of space was going to get away with assault? He wanted to do awful things to me and you’re taking his side?”

“Yes,” Matthew said, grabbing the aspirin off the counter and easing toward the door, putting himself in front of David and between Jade. “You can’t come with us anymore.”

“You said I would be safe with you,” Jade said, her lower lip trembling. “You said I could stay at your hotel for as long as I wanted. You said I could have a home in Galena.”

“That was before we knew you had a gun!” Matthew shouted.

“And didn’t mind using it,” David added.

Jade glowered and then, smooth as butter, her hand dipped behind her and the weapon was back in her hands. Only this time, the barrel was pointed straight at Matthew. Chills tingled throughout his body, sending goosebumps rising over his skin. “You’re not leaving me in the middle of nowhere,” she said, tears springing in her eyes. “You’re not leaving me behind. I don’t think so. Take David’s bag, Matt. Put everything you can inside.”

Trembling, his fingers suddenly turned to ice, Matthew did as she ordered. As if in a daze, he began stuffing snacks and drinks into his pack and turned to Jade when it was half-full. The gun was still trained on him, Jade’s grip steady. Unwavering.

“Don’t skimp,” Jade said. “Fill it up.”

Matthew continued to fill the bag until the zipper strained to close. She shoved her backpack at David and wrapped two hands around the gun handle. “Carry your own stuff, if you can,” she snarled to David. “Or is your heart too weak?” The gun wavered for a moment, and Matthew shoved his way around her so he stood between his father and the gun barrel, terrified that at any moment, he might hear that deafening ring again, see two marks appear on his own chest, and topple over dead.

What if he charged her, pushed her over, tried to get the gun out of her hands? What if they scrambled for ownership of it? What if she grabbed it again? She wouldn’t hesitate to shoot him. Or David. What would Kathleen think then? A brother in prison, a husband murdered in cold blood over Tootsie Rolls and Doritos.

David hefted the bag over his shoulder, and Matthew did the same. The weight of drinks and junk food felt like bricks on his back. David’s breathing had turned into a wheeze. Matthew put a hand on his dad’s arm to steady him and reassure his father that he was there. “You don’t have to do this,” Matthew said to Jade. “We can go our separate ways. Peacefully. You can take everything we own. Just don’t hurt us.”

“You’re just like everyone else I’ve ever met,” Jade snarled as they left the store. “Underwhelming.”

David gasped and leaned into Matthew as Jade ordered them to walk. Matthew broke the plastic seal on the medicine bottle and shook a white aspirin tablet out. With shaking hands, David downed the pill without water. Jade stood behind them. When Matthew looked over his shoulder, he saw the black circle of the gun barrel looking at him like an eye, the twin green pools of Jade’s fury staring at him. “I won’t be left behind,” she snarled.

Matthew grabbed David’s arm and somehow, they began the walk back towards the interstate, the heavy sound of David’s breathing transforming to a labored pant as they reached the top.

21

David’s heavy breathing fell into a familiar rhythm for Matthew as the sun set crept down towards the horizon and dusk began to race across the sky. Panic felt like a concrete block weighing Matthew down as he kept close to David, using his body as source of shelter and strength as Jade set a grueling pace down the highway. He didn’t know if Jade planned to herd them towards Galena, or if she had other plans in mind. What would he do if Jade pressed the gun to the back of his head and demanded they turn down another exit and head in a different direction? He’d fight her, but she already knew his weaknesses. She’d move that gun barrel to David, and Matthew would do whatever she asked. Ahead of him, the sky turned a little bit darker. David breathed a little bit heavier.

He already knew, deep down, that he’d never be able to shoot her.

“Walk faster,” Jade snapped from behind them. “I don’t want the sun to set on us out here.”

Matthew glanced over his shoulder at her. The gun sat clenched in her hand, which was at her side. “We can’t walk all the way to Galena in an hour,” he said.

“We could get a lot farther if you’d pick up the pace,” Jade said. The hand holding the gun jittered and bounced against her thigh. “Do you need an enticement? I know you’re a man of many words, Matt, but I bet you wouldn’t have much to say to this gun.”

Matthew bit his lip and faced forward, his anger boiling just under the surface. His jaw ached from grinding his teeth in stress. He decided to try a new tactic. “My father needs to rest.”

“We rested at the clinic.”

“Over an hour ago!”

“Then it’s the law of the jungle, isn’t it? Eat or be eaten. You know what I’ve learned from this? Nothing works out here, and everyone I meet betrays me in the end.”

“We didn’t betray you. We felt unsafe in your company. We aren’t wrong.”

“Shut up,” Jade snarled. “Shut your trap.” The gun bounced against her leg in soft thumps. Matthew hoped the safety was on. A million thoughts filled his mind about what they should do and how they should escape, but he couldn’t strain his father’s energy by putting them in danger. It was better to wait and see what Jade had planned before doing something reckless that might end up with one or both of them shot.

The sun became a half circle against the horizon, illuminating clouds in red and gold. David’s steps had become sluggish, tripping more often than not against the flat road. He gripped Matthew’s hand, as if trying to transfer the pain in his chest to Matthew. Matthew wished he could take the burden from his father, hoist both packs over his back, but Jade had stopped him from doing something like that earlier. Matthew was at the verge of demanding to sit and was considering stopping and refusing to move as his hostage-given rights, when Jade called out, “We can stop up there, near that exit.”

The sun had completely disappeared by the time they made it to the exit sign. David collapsed on the curb. Fatigue grayed his face. Sweat ran down his temples. Jade climbed on top of a stalled SUV and perched on the hood. Sitting cross-legged, she unwrapped a power bar and munched on it, watching them like a hawk from on high. Matthew coaxed water down David’s throat, handing him bits of power bar, and knew that if David were in his right mind, he’d admonish Matthew for treating him like a child.

With the sun gone, the quick drop in temperature made Matthew shiver. Soon, Matthew plumped up their packs as pillows and lay down close to his father, the body heat meager between them. Luckily it was spring, Matthew thought. Lucky for them it wasn’t the dead of winter. David’s back was turned to Jade, and Matthew saw her adjust on top of the car until she could lie down, her eyes glimmering in the moonlight. The gun shone silver in her hands.

“Dad,” Matthew breathed, trying to move his lips as little as possible. “I’ve got a plan.”

David looked up at him, exhaustion warring in his eyes, but Matthew needed him to stay awake, just a little longer.

“When she’s asleep,” Matthew whispered, “I’m going to take her down.”

David licked his lips. “The gun,” he said, his voice reedy. “She has a holster at her back. Small. Half covered by her pants. If she puts the gun there, you’ll need to get her on her stomach.”

“How should I do that?”

David’s eyebrow rose. “You’re a large man, Matt. Brute force.”

Matthew’s throat went dry. “Right.”

“If the gun is in the holster, you’ll need to pin her down. Sit on her lower torso, get her arms under control somehow. Wrists in one hand. Grab the gun.”

“I can’t shoot her, Dad.”

“I know. I wouldn’t expect you to. Either threaten her with it or toss it to me. Just get it away from her. Safety will be on the side. It will show a red mark if it’s not on.”

“What if she’s holding it and it’s not in the holster?”

“Angle the gun away from her. No matter what, keep it away from you. Get her to release it. Slam her hands, whatever you have to do to loosen her grip on it. When she does, kick it away. Just be careful. She’s like a cat. Probably will kick you where it hurts the most, get my drift?”

“Yeah,” Matthew said quietly. Then, “She’s just scared.”

“Yes, she is, but Matthew, now is not the time for a bleeding heart. You don’t have to hurt her, but she will shoot you if she has to. I will not let her hurt my only son, do you understand? Do not make me live through that.”

Matthew swallowed hard. “I won’t. I’ll be careful.”

“Easier said than done,” David said.

Should we just go with the flow? Somehow it seemed easier—safer, somehow—to comply with Jade than risk getting them hurt. Because if he took on Jade and failed, he knew he wouldn’t be walking any further to Galena. To the kids. To Kathleen. His story would end here, on the interstate.

David’s eyes fluttered, fighting sleep. “Get some rest,” David muttered. “We both need it. Go for her in the morning, when she’s asleep and there’s light. In the morning.”

“Yeah,” Matthew said even as the dark pull of sleep tugged at him. His eyes closed against his will, sending him into a dreamless unconsciousness, pockmarked with explosive moments of terror where he woke, wondering if Jade had done something, had planned something, had taken them off-guard. Sleep inevitably pulled him back under.

When he finally managed to awaken, the sky had turned a dusky rose above, the moon a sliver against the radiance of the sun. Like a magnet, his eyes fixated on Jade, lax with sleep on top of the car. David breathed slowly beside him.

Sitting up hurt, all Matthew’s joints stiff from lying on the hard pavement. He managed to get to his feet, then tried to imagine being like a panther as he slunk closer to the SUV. As he stepped on the hood of the car, the metal indented under his foot with a soft pop. He paused, watching Jade’s shoulders move rhythmically up and down. She lay on her side, her hands empty.

Matthew put both feet on the hood and eased up the windshield. Jade’s jacket was rolled up slightly over her backside, showing the tanned leather holster—a side one, from the looks of it, that didn’t fit her slim waist and had been repurposed to fit against the small of her back. Easy. Like pretending to be the tooth fairy when Allison was young and he had to place the shiny quarter under her pillow. Easy. Slow.

The soft thump thump of his hiking boots moving across the metal roof sounded like bombs in his ears. He crouched over her and wrapped his sweaty hand around the gun’s curved handle. As he lifted, Jade’s shoulders continued to rise and fall. The gun was halfway out. Just a little bit more. Almost there.

Pain exploded in his forehead. Jade’s elbow had cocked back and collided with his face. He rocked on his heels and tightened his grip on the gun even as she rolled over, trying to trap his arm under him and then push him off the roof of the car. Her teeth bared at him. She let out a screech of rage just as her elbow pulled back, ready to smash into him again.

Brute force. Matthew barely managed to dodge her elbow, and he pushed her back over, yanking frantically at the gun, keeping his hand far from the trigger. The gun slid out, finally cradled in his hand. Jade reached back over, grabbed his shirt collar, and with one forceful yank, rolled him over her and then pushed him off the car. He grabbed the fringe of her jacket, taking her with him.

The ground pushed the air out of his lungs in a painful whoosh. He gasped, trying to breathe. On top of him, Jade scrambled for purchase, her hands clawing at his face. He held the gun up and over his head, his longer reach just managing to keep it out of her grasp. Finger away from the trigger. Finger away from the trigger.

Jade’s fist slammed into his stomach, taking his breath away for the second time. She lunged upwards. Her hands wrapped around his wrist, scrambling for the gun, trying to make him release it. Like a game of hot potato, if the potato were a volatile weapon that could kill or wound at a moment’s notice. This is not gun safety, his mind helpfully supplied.

He tried to push her off, get just enough of an advantage to throw her off him, but her knees pinned his sides and dug into his ribs. His ears rang from her screams, and his own frustrated cries lay trapped beneath his gritted teeth. She had to have drawn blood on his wrists—she was climbing him like a tree—and then he finally got enough lift with his chest to push her to the side. She slammed his hands on the pavement, and he cried out in pain. His grip weakened. Her fingers wrapped around the gun barrel—keep your hand off the trigger, Jade, hand off the trigger—

Bang. His ears were immediately deafened by the loose gunshot. Screaming filtered in through the ringing silence and it had to have been him, he was the one screaming, was he the one wounded? The bellow filled his mind, clenched around his heart. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t him, it was…

Dad.

Oh god, was David shot? A fuzzy blanket of anger surrounded him. How could she have done this? They’d been kind to Jade, they’d helped her, and she shot his father. With a strength he didn’t know existed, he managed to bring his knee up and jam it into her stomach. She let out a sharp gasp. He tossed her off him and lunged to his knees, scrambling to his feet. The gun was still in his hands. He aimed it at her.

Well. Aimed it just over her shoulder.

“Dad?” Matthew shouted, even though his back was turned to his father. “Dad, say something. Are you all right?”

“I’ve been better,” David wheezed out, his voice faint.

Jade scrambled up to her knees, as if ready to lunge for Matthew and start the fight over again.

“Don’t even think about it. Hands up,” Matthew said. Adrenaline surged through him, taking away the pain from the fall and the bloody gouges trailing up and down his forearms and wrists.

Jade’s hands rose, her lower lip trembling. A gash covered her side, looking like road rash. She tried to speak, but nothing came out.

“Listen to me,” Matthew said. “You’re going to leave us alone. You’re going to get out of my sight as fast as you can, do you hear me? I don’t want to hurt you, but you will not hurt me or my father again. Do you understand?”

One swift nod of the head and suddenly she pivoted, shooting back the way they’d come, keeping her head down as she zig-zagged around the cars down the highway. As soon as Matthew lost sight of her, he turned, terrified to see the damage Jade had done. David slumped against the concrete curb, unmoving. Horror filled Matthew as he ran to his father, skidding on his knees. “Dad? Dad, answer me. Dad!”

“Still…here. Thought I’d had another heart attack for a moment.” David winced as he raised his head. He clutched his arm. Blood seeped between his fingertips, dotting the ground. Without thinking, Matthew pressed his hands over the wound. David moaned in pain.

“Is the bullet in it?” Matthew asked. He tried to inspect the wound as best he could. He was a marketing major for goodness sake, he had no idea what to look for in a wound, but he did know that he had to find out if the bullet was lodged inside. It looked more like a graze—although a deep one. Nothing appeared to be lodged inside. “I need bandages. Right. Bandages.”

Dragging his abandoned backpack toward him, he dumped the food Jade had insisted they carry until he found the bandana he’d bought at the sporting goods store the day before. Had it really only been a day? It felt like a lifetime.

Pressure. He wrenched David’s sleeve apart, and tried to make a loose tourniquet above the wound with the bandage. Using a new bottle of water, he splashed what he could over the gash, attempting to clean it out. With trembling hands, he popped open the first aid kit, ripping open sterile alcohol wipes. The blood had eased to a steady trickle and he tried not to focus on how much of it covered his hands. He then applied cotton swabs over the wound and wrapped gauze around David’s arm as best he could.

“Do you need stitches?” Matthew asked helplessly. He didn’t know why he asked, only that he felt he should. He needed to hear his father say something, say anything. “I barely know how to sew. Not sure I can handle stitches.”

“Good job, Dr. Riley,” David breathed out. “Knew you should’ve gone into the medical field.”

“Don’t joke, how can you joke? You just got shot!” Matthew wiped his hand across his forehead. Small tremors shook his hands.

“Give me some more aspirin,” David said.

“Can you have that?” Matthew asked, feeling frantic. “What about your heart?”

“I just got shot. I think my heart can give me a break.”

Matthew busted open the bottle and David palmed a couple pills, took them without water. Matthew stood, giving David space, but he had to do something with the falling adrenaline leaving his body. He grabbed David’s bag and emptied out the crushed chip bags and melted chocolate bars onto the pavement as if angry at the inanimate objects for making him haul them all the way out here.

He remembered how heavy everything had been and bit his lip. There was no way he’d be able to carry everything stolen from the store to Galena. He opened a bag of jerky, made himself eat and drink, before offering some to David. David took small pieces of the jerky and tried to stand.

“Whoa,” Matthew said, grabbing his arm. “We can rest for a minute, the whole day if you want.”

“We need to get home,” David said, using Matthew like his crutch. “Now more than ever.”

Unable to speak, Matthew nodded. His father was right. Now more than ever.

22

Ruth knew she’d need to go to the grocery store. Her attempts at canning the remaining food in the hotel had been moderately successful, and the meat preservation hadn’t turned out too terrible—if at first you don’t succeed and all that nonsense—but now they needed to get actual food from an actual store. Any scheduled deliveries from town had been woefully absent. The power was still off. She hadn’t heard from the rest of her family in days. So, Ruth decided, not only would she go into town for food on her own, but she’d find out if she could find a working phone and try to call her husband.

She didn’t expect Patton to have so many opinions on the matter.

“I’m coming with you.” Patton’s eyes blazed fiercely as she stuffed her reusable grocery bags into a backpack. “I’m stronger than you. You need my help.”

“Patton, someone has to stay behind and watch the hotel,” Ruth said, flustered.

“Then you stay behind while I go into town,” Patton said. “I’m fast and could make it there and back like that.” He snapped his fingers.

“Think of what your mother would say. She’d skin us both.” Ruth zipped up the backpack and gave Patton a stern look.

“She doesn’t have to know.”

Ruth rolled her eyes. “There’s no way I’m keeping a secret like that from Kathleen.”

“Grandma, I’m not five. We have to stick together.” His mouth became a mulish line, a headstrong trait that reminded her of David. “What if something happens when you’re gone?” Patton continued. “I don’t want to be here by myself. Besides, you’ll need my help carrying everything up the mountain.”

He wasn’t wrong. The walk down the mountain would take an hour or so, but then she faced the task of walking uphill with all of her purchases. Together, they’d be faster and be able to bring more food back to the hotel. Plus, she wouldn’t have to spend all day worried about Patton while he was out of her sight. Ruth let out a sigh, knowing he’d successfully convinced her. “Fine. You win.”

Patton’s face brightened. “We lock the hotel up. Leave a note in case someone comes looking. We’re not even officially open, anyway. Who’s gonna come up here?”

“Yes, yes. Get on your hiking boots before I change my mind.”

“You won’t be sorry.” Patton knelt down and tugged on his shoes. Ruth shook her head, wishing her own hiking boots weren’t twenty years old. If the Riley family planned to live in a mountain town and do all the mountain activities, they’d better get their act together and buy gear fit for the mountain terrain and weather, especially if these power outages were actually a normal occurrence up here. She had an old windbreaker and cardigan on, but the sharp suits and flowery blouses she once wore as an administrative assistant filled more of her closet than any rough-and-tough gear.

As they began walking down the road and away from the hotel, Ruth couldn’t help but take a deep breath to appreciate the moment. Small green buds covered some of the tree branches. The spring wind rustled through the pine boughs that looked greener by the minute. Patton chattered idly next to her, telling her about his school classes, about how proud he was that their meat preservation technique had worked, about how he and his friends liked to watch old horror movies and make fun of their dramatics. The walk passed quickly with such pleasant company, and soon enough, houses appeared along the road. Galena Grocery, the local mercantile, stood on the outskirts of town in hopes that development would follow it. The parking lot was empty, but Ruth shrugged her worry away. It was the middle of the morning, after all. People were probably at work or at home preparing for the week. Nothing to worry about.

She reached for the glass door, noticing that it had been propped open with a wood block. Through the windows, the check-out stations looked abandoned. No one waited to greet them. No one stood in line or manned the stations. Frowning, she opened the door carefully. “Stay close, Patton,” she said.

Patton gave her a concerned look.

A strange smell met her nostrils—something off and rancid. Patton’s nose scrunched up and he softly gagged before asking, “What is that smell?”

“Bad meat,” Ruth said quietly, stunned that such a smell would exist in a grocery store. Perhaps they got a bad shipment in and that was why she didn’t see anyone working: they were all dealing with whatever had created such a rank smell. She tried to offer Patton a reassuring smile, but he saw through it, and frowned in response.

“Let’s get what we came for,” Ruth suggested, grabbing a cart. “Stick close together, like you wanted.”

Patton nodded. Together, they eased into the store and down the canned food aisle. The smell worsened. The shelves looked disorganized, as if the goods had been thrown around or rifled through. Not much remained. Ruth put rice and pasta in her cart, quickly moving to the next aisle where she selected peanut butter and a variety of canned vegetables and fruits, noting that at the end of the aisle, the display of local organic coffee had been tipped over. Coffee beans spilled on the floor. No one had cleaned it up. Ruth felt out of place, unwelcome. The sounds of her shopping felt loud and intrusive in the unusually quiet store. It was as if the whole place had been abandoned.

“Grandma.” Patton sounded worried. “This feels like the zombie apocalypse.”

“One of those horror movies?” she asked. She decided to bypass the cart completely and began stuffing everything she wanted to buy in the reusable bags they’d brought.

“Yeah,” Patton said softly. “Where is everybody?”

Ruth knew the question was rhetorical. She had no answer to give. “Let’s get milk and eggs and get out of here.”

They walked to the cold section. The smell became stronger, and Ruth took shallow breaths when she saw the refrigerator doors thrown open, the saran-wrapped meat punctured and turning, the packages of frozen pizzas and lasagnas looking wilted from thaw. Rot. That’s what the smell was. Rotting food.

“Can I get some trail mix?” Patton asked and Ruth nodded absently. Patton disappeared from her side and Ruth approached the Employees Only door near the milk, thinking to peek her head inside, ask if anyone was around, try to figure out what had happened here. Shelves that weren’t full of food turning bad were empty, and she knew now the place had been raided. The smell got worse, now with a metallic tang that wouldn’t leave the back of her throat. She put her hand over her mouth and nose, and suddenly froze.

A red-black puddle pooled from underneath the closed door. As if someone had been…as if something had happened…

Oh god. What if it wasn’t just bad meat that was rotting in the store?

Ruth swallowed hard, filled with an instinct to flee. Grab her grandson. Get out of here. Whatever or whoever had caused that puddle under the door might still be in the store. She turned on her heel as Patton popped out of the snacks aisle, two packages of candy in one hand and trail mix in the other.

“Grandma, can I have—”

“Yes, put it in the bag. Everything. Quick. Now, Patton, put it in the bag.”

“What’s wrong?” Patton asked as he dumped the food in their bulging sacks.

“It’s time to leave.” Ruth pushed his shoulder, angling herself in his line of sight so he wouldn’t glimpse the puddle. She herded him to the front of the store and then bypassed the check-out stand, heading straight out the door.

“Don’t we have to pay?” Patton asked.

“Nope, it’s customer appreciation day. Come on, keep up.”

“That sounds unlikely,” Patton said, scrutinizing her, even as he unwrapped the foil of his Twix bar.

“We’ll pay them back some other time,” Ruth said, realizing she might have just endorsed stealing. “Here, I’ll pay for what I can now.” She pulled her backpack off, yanked out her wallet, and placed a wad of cash on one of the check-out counters. Not enough for everything in her shopping bags, she was certain, but at least Patton wouldn’t see her actively committing theft. She definitely didn’t want him to question her enough that she’d be forced to look for a cashier and stumble on another...well, whatever that puddle was on the floor. “There, your chocolate bar is paid for,” she added. “Let’s go.”

“If you say so.” Mouth full of chocolate and caramel, Patton luckily didn’t ask her anything else as they followed the road back the way they’d come.

The delight and meditative relaxation Ruth had felt earlier disappeared. She replayed the image of that red-black puddle. Should she have looked for others? Sought help? Found out if someone was hurt?

Her hands shook. She couldn’t stop them.

* * *

Somehow, Ruth managed to stop thinking about what had happened in the store to find herself halfway up the mountain with Patton on his third candy bar. Chocolate was stuck in the corners of his mouth, his eyes glazed with a sugar rush. Her legs burned from exertion, and she realized her hands ached from white-knuckling the grocery bags. The backpack she wore—filled with other produce and their water bottles—weighed on her shoulders.

“Uh oh,” Patton said. “Looks like someone had some car trouble.”

Ruth looked up to see a white delivery truck pulled off on the side of the road. Hope filled her. Could this be the food delivery they’d been waiting on for the hotel? The back was wide open, and as Ruth peered around the sides, she didn’t see anyone looking after the vehicle.

“Hey, look,” Patton said, opening the back door wider and looking inside. “That’s a ton of food in here!”

“This has to be our delivery,” Ruth said, poking her head inside to see lots of fresh vegetables and packaged meat. Luckily, the rancid smell of the grocer’s was not present here. “Looks like the car died. Patton, get off of there.”

Patton took his foot off the bumper with a sheepish grin. “Sorry. Grandma, I don’t see anyone around here that will take care of the food. Should we wait for someone to come back?”

Ruth hesitated. She felt skittish from what she’d seen earlier at the store. She didn’t want to jeopardize the food they’d already gotten from the grocer’s by waiting for whoever had left theirs here in the first place.

“We can’t let the meat go bad like at the store. There’s so much in here.” Patton peered further inside, his head cocked to the side in curiosity.

Shame flushed Ruth’s cheeks as she thought of how she’d simply taken the groceries from the store without a second thought, driven by her fear to leave the shop as fast as possible. At least she’d left some cash. “Let’s drop our stuff off at the hotel and come back. If this van is still here, we can take some of the food back to the hotel and leave a note for the driver. Deal?”

“Deal.” Patton smiled at her and took one of the reusable bags. “Let me.”

“Thanks, honey.”

It was close to an hour later by the time they’d gotten to the hotel and unloaded all of their foodstuffs. Ruth checked the freezer. It was still somewhat cold inside, and she sighed, resolved that they’d have to survive on the dry and boxed food until David or Matthew came back. She wondered where they could be, and hoped they’d get in touch soon. In the meantime, Patton kept speculating about the mysterious van and its non-existent owner. “You watch too many fantasy movies,” Ruth pointed out as he ran to put his shoes back on so they could trek down the mountain to see if the van was still there. The late morning had become early afternoon, and as soon as they rounded the third switchback, the white delivery van came into view.

It hadn’t moved, but now the hood was popped open. A man dressed in corduroy overalls was peering inside at the engine. Ruth let out a relieved breath, pleased the van hadn’t been entirely abandoned. Now she could help this man instead of taking his produce and leaving a note for him.

“Hi there,” she said and the man turned. She gave him a small wave. “Sorry about your van. We saw it on our walk about an hour ago. Do you need any help?”

“Oh, it’s not my van.” The man smiled and held out his hand. “I’m the town’s mechanic. Born and raised in Galena. Samuel West.”

“I’m Ruth, and this is my grandson, Patton.” She noticed the overalls were oil- and grease-stained, his name embroidered in white over his left breast pocket. Ruth’s nose wrinkled as she took his hand, smelling the familiar scent of gin and underneath that, a dark smoky hint of whiskey.

“What’s wrong with the van?” Patton asked, looking into the engine with interest.

“From the looks of things, the alternator is fried. Hadn’t been replaced in a long time and that tends to happen. I was heading up to see if the city-folks at the River Rock hotel needed any help, but then I came across this van and thought I’d see what I could do.”

“That’s very kind of you.” Ruth gave him a small smile. “We thought the goods in the van might spoil, so we planned to save what we could and leave a note. Do you know who the van belongs to?”

“No idea, but I’d be more than happy to help you fine people out.” Samuel grinned. He had to be younger than Matthew, but time had not been kind to him. Gray peppered his reddish-brown hair. Wrinkles lined his forehead. The yellow tinge to his skin that could only come from heavy drinking left Ruth feeling uneasy. The black-red stain from the store flashed through her mind.

“Oh, that’s fine. Now that you’re here looking after the van, I don’t feel so worried about the food going bad. I’m sure you’ll have the vehicle working in no time.” Ruth put her hand on Patton, who looked up at her in confusion. “Let’s head back home. Nice to meet you, Samuel.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” he said. “Honestly though, some of the food will spoil. Take some of it at least, I insist. I’ll stick around and let the owner know.”

Ruth felt caged, but she didn’t want to oppose this man in any way. She couldn’t understand why she felt so hesitant around Samuel, but nodded anyway and filled their reusable bags with milk, eggs, bacon, vegetables, and things she could can if needed. Then she waved goodbye without another word, hating the worry that filled her. Samuel was probably just being kind and most likely thought Ruth rude, but she didn’t have the energy for niceties. She didn’t have energy to combat her instincts telling her to be on her guard. Reminding her that anything could happen to anyone. That the red-black puddle in the grocery store came from somewhere and it wasn’t because someone was feeling kind.

Nothing wrong with being careful, she told herself. Nothing wrong with trusting her gut.

23

As soon as Ruth shut the hotel door behind her, she slid the lock into place and felt a sudden sense of overwhelming calm. Her reaction to Samuel had been silly, but as they’d walked back to the hotel, she finally understood why he’d made her feel so uneasy.

Even though his smile had looked more like a leer and he’d reeked of alcohol, what right did he have to offer her goods from someone else’s van as if he owned them? She was furious at herself for taking them. If the van’s owner demanded she repay him, she’d do it tenfold. For some reason, she’d felt threatened by Samuel, and her response made her seethe with anger that she hadn’t stood up to him. With a sigh, she followed Patton into the kitchen and began unloading the truck goods. They’d taken far more than she’d thought. In her daze, she hadn’t noticed that they’d procured a good-sized haul. The food would keep them stocked up for a long time.

“The lights still aren’t on,” Patton said, as he laid out more cucumbers and carrots as if they would can them immediately. “That’s weird, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Ruth said, laying out fruits in the same manner. She could make freezer jam with it.

“That Samuel guy was weird too.”

“I thought so too, but why do you say that?”

Patton shrugged and it struck Ruth again at how mature he had become over the last few days. “He kept looking at you in a way I didn’t like.” Patton took a deep breath, as if uncertain his next statement would be welcome. “Grandma, I think we should make the hotel unwelcoming. I don’t want people like Samuel coming up here, thinking he has an open invitation because he helped us. I watched this King Arthur movie once, and they put up defenses around their castle just in case of attack. We should do the same.”

Ruth paused, sad that Patton’s carefree attitude had begun to slip away. “Do you not feel safe in the hotel?” she asked.

“I do, but I wish we had a moat.” He glumly folded the reusable bags.

Ruth ran her hands through Patton’s wild hair, pulling him into a hug. She hated that he didn’t feel safe, but if he needed some sort of additional security, she’d do anything in her power to give it to him. The only thing was that she had no idea what to do. The run-down hotel had always been a family-owned property from what the estate executor had told them, and he’d been happy it was going to pass into the hands of another family focused on developing a small business. The Riley clan had been pleased with the reduced price, despite the estimated renovation costs, but now the creaky floors and bad seal on the windows seemed less like something they had to fix and more like a security risk. “Patton, I’m so sorry you feel unsafe. I don’t know how to make the hotel more secure. We can lock the doors, but otherwise, I’m at a loss. Do you have any ideas?”

Patton turned thoughtful. “A security system, maybe?”

Ruth laughed. “I’m not sure anyone will be available to install one.”

“Get creative, Grandma. I meant we could make one. Like with bells.”

“Or cans,” Ruth said, noting the soda cans that lingered in the trash. Anything that made noise could be strung together, like tinsel. “We could string cans together and hang them around the doors and windows.”

“That way, if anyone entered, we’d hear it.” A grin spread across Patton’s face. “Let’s do it.”

* * *

As soon as twilight covered the sky, Ruth put her hands on her hips and surveyed their work. Twine roped around the top of the doors and large picture windows with soda cans and tin from the garage dangling from the ends like Christmas lights. Patton tested the door, opening it carefully from the outside. The jangle of cans clinking together and against the glass filled her ears. If anyone tried to enter, they’d hear it.

Cans sat along the windowsills as well. While they’d run out of supplies to make enough twine-string alarms for every window, Patton pointed out that if they simply stuck a can against the window, if anyone tried to get in, the sound of it clattering to the floor would make enough noise that they’d be able to hear it. All Ruth could think was that she was glad the cans were on the inside of the hotel. She could only imagine the chaos that would ensue if the cans had to be on the outside and chipmunks kept accidentally knocking over their homemade alarms by accident.

The security system definitely made Patton feel more at ease. Ruth could tell by the relaxation in his shoulders, the way he teased her more and laughed at her jokes. She tried to put herself in his shoes and understood why he’d need an extra feeling of safety. Obviously, she detected that he was concerned about his parents’ and sister’s well-being, and was trying to combat that uneasiness in any way he could.

Fatigue pulled at Ruth. Patton listed into her side, his head resting against her shoulder as if reflecting her exhaustion. She leaned down and said into his ear, “I’m proud of you. This was a good idea. Way better than a moat.”

“We did so much today,” Patton said with a yawn.

Ruth resisted yawning in response. “I never thought I’d spend my day walking back and forth from town and then creating an alarm system. Maybe we should make it an early night?” she asked him. “Something quick for dinner?”

Patton nodded and surveyed the room. “I could pass out right now. We did good, Grandma. No one will get in.”

Ruth had to smile. It made her heart warm to see Patton at ease and once more comfortable in the hotel when before he’d been so on edge. They meandered back to the kitchen, where Ruth whipped up the eggs from the truck and fried the bacon. Breakfast for dinner again. Patton didn’t complain, though, inhaling the food and then leaning back in his chair with a too-full groan. “You really think the cans were a good idea?”

“One of your better ones,” Ruth said, finishing up her scrambled eggs. “Tomorrow, we’ll brainstorm ways to make the hotel better protected. Right now, though, I’m dead on my feet,” she admitted. These old bones need rest. She wasn’t thirty anymore.

She dumped their dishes in the sink, promising to clean them tomorrow, and then steered Patton to his room where he slumped on his bed. “Get your pajamas on and brush your teeth,” she said and grinned at his responding moan. After her bedtime rituals—her mouth minty from brushing, her comfortable pajamas on—she sank into her bed with a content sigh.

She didn’t remember falling asleep, but a sudden shatter paired with the jangle of aluminum jerked her out of a deep slumber. She jumped out of bed and barely managed to wrap a shawl around her shoulders before stumbling out into the hallway.

Patton’s terrified face met hers. “What was that?” he asked, his voice high-pitched with fear.

“I don’t know. Go back into your room. I’ll take a look.” Worry clenched her heart, fear at what waited for them, of who might be inside their home. The red-black puddle flashed through her mind again, and she swore she’d protect Patton at all costs.

“No, Grandma, we stick together.” He took her hand.

He’s only twelve, Ruth reminded herself as she squeezed his cold hand. He shouldn’t be worried about me, shouldn’t be worried about people breaking into the hotel. She took a deep breath. “Stay close behind me.”

They picked their way down into the main room. Ruth wished she could chase away the darkness by flipping on the light, and if they made it through the night without a problem, she’d make sure she kept a baseball bat at her bedside in case something like this happened again. The sharp whoosh of the wind filled her ears, and the temperature dropped as they entered the hotel’s cozy lobby.

Ruth let out a soft gasp. The two big picture windows had been smashed, leaving the rugs on the floor covered in glass. The stars twinkled beyond the dark rise of mountains, the moon providing just enough light for Ruth to see their makeshift security system sprawled on the floor in a tangle of twine and tin. Usually, staring out those windows filled Ruth with contentment, especially in the morning when she could see the mountain slopes glazed in sunlight. Now, the sight sent chills downs her spine.

She carefully picked her way across the glass to look out the windows, surveying the damage to the exterior of the hotel. There were two deep dents in the siding. This wasn’t some wild animal getting lost and accidentally running into the windows. This was like someone had taken a hammer to the siding. This was done with intent.

Ruth’s mind raced. Who would want to do the hotel—or them—harm? What would have happened if Patton hadn’t insisted on putting up defenses? She shivered, both from the cold and the thought. “Patton," she said softly, "let’s go get some of that old plywood from the shed and saran wrap. We’ll cover up the windows as best we can to keep the cold out. We don’t want the hotel to turn into an iceberg.”

Patton nodded, looking solemn. Together, they went out back and by moonlight, gathered staples, nails, what plastic sheeting she could find, cardboard, and cheap wood and hauled it inside the hotel. She busted up pallets from previous shipments and laid out the wood panels, banging nails into the wallpaper to board up the broken windows. Patton remained quiet, yet stayed close as he helped her cover up the picture windows with a mix of wood, cardboard, and plastic. The wind battered against the plastic, but luckily it held firm. Finally, together they repaired the security system of can and twine and slung it once more across the window, although Ruth had a feeling it wouldn’t have the same effect if someone tried to break in again.

She hoped no one would. She wasn’t sure what she would do if they did.

“That’s all we can do tonight,” she said, taking a step back to survey their work. She pulled Patton into a one-handed hug. “Let’s get some rest.”

Distress filled Patton’s face as Ruth smoothed the hair back from his forehead. He blinked up at her with exhausted, but anxious eyes. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep at all, Grandma.”

“You should try.”

“I’m serious. There’s no way I’m going to sleep.”

Ruth sighed and ran a hand along her own forehead, feeling the inklings of a headache. “Honestly, I probably couldn’t either,” she admitted.

“What if they come back?” Patton asked. “What if someone tries to break in again?”

“We’ll be ready for them. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

"Promise?” Patton asked, the maturity stripped away momentarily to show the worried boy beneath.

“Promise,” she said. “Cross my heart.”

“Okay,” Patton said softly. “I’m still not going to be able to sleep, though.”

“Come over here,” Ruth said and slumped on one of the old lobby couches. Patton sat down next to her. After a moment, he stretched out and rested his head in her lap. She rubbed his back.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” Ruth repeated, hoping he could drift to sleep.

To her surprise, she felt his hand tighten in hers. “I won’t let anyone hurt you either,” Patton said.

24

When Kathleen and Allison stopped to rest, Kathleen took the gun out of the holster and showed Allison how to use it. She showed Allison how to hold the gun, position her stance, keep her arms relaxed, and how to aim. They didn’t have enough rounds to practice shooting, but Allison handled the gun like she would something sacred: with wide eyes and respect.

Rhonda’s warnings had spooked them both. Kathleen wanted Allison to be able to protect herself if needed. She needed to keep her daughter safe, and teaching her how to use the weapon was the best way she knew how. She always felt on her guard, as if someone was watching them. Following them.

The second time they stopped for a snack and a bottle of water, Kathleen’s worry had slipped away. They were making excellent time. The numbing rumble of tires on the road had become almost meditative, and their pace was fast and sustainable. She never thought they’d be able to conquer so much distance in such a short amount of time, especially once they hit the highway and could zoom past stalled cars or stick to the side of the road and just cruise. They were by no means close to Galena, but they were much farther than she’d expected they’d be. She grinned at her daughter who munched on Rhonda’s trail mix and leaned against her bike, looking ready to take on the road.

The third time they stopped, Kathleen devoured a strip of jerky while stretching out the tightness in her calves. Allison groaned as she stretched, her arms high overhead. Her backpack sat near her feet along with Kathleen’s. When the sound of a choking diesel engine starting up filled the air, Kathleen snapped her head up. Her heart sank when she saw a familiar beige truck roar towards her and then screech to a stop beside them, close enough she could’ve reached out to touch the paint. She barely had a chance to back up and grab her bike before the grinning faces of young men with a bone to pick jumped out of the truck and surrounded her and Allison.

“What do you want?” Kathleen snarled, her bike clattering to the ground. She wanted her hands free for this. The guardrail was behind her, the truck in front, and men on either side. They were effectively trapped. The leader leered at her, and she recognized him as the one she’d held at gunpoint. He lunged for Allison, grabbing her arm and yanking her closer, but Allison tugged back and broke his grip, standing closer to Kathleen. He settled for grabbing Kathleen’s backpack instead, and handing it off to one of his friends.

“Long time, no see, ladies,” the leader said. “Looks like you haven’t lost your spunk. We got off on the wrong foot before, but us boys figured you might be more in a party mood now that you’re out in the open all by yourselves. What do you say? Ready to play nice and have a good time?”

“No thank you,” Kathleen said tightly, fear clenching in her chest. The leader threw his head back and laughed while his friends mimicked him.

“Get lost,” Allison piped up besides Kathleen. “We don’t want anything to do with you. Just leave us alone.”

The leader’s grin suddenly seemed frozen in place, before melting into an angry smirk. “Is that what you say when a nice guy like myself asks you out on a date? Did you just throw my invitation back in my face? Looks like you know nothing about respect.” The leader took a step closer. “Andrew Lang deserves respect.”

“Respect has to be earned,” Allison said hotly. “You’ve done nothing but stalk us—”

Kathleen held her hand out to cut Allison off. Here, they were like mice being played with by hungry cats. The men loomed around them, the same nasty glint shining in their eyes, ready to sink their claws in. One ripped open the backpack, rooting through it until he found the nylon bag. Opening it up, he scattered Max’s clothes and shoes over the pavement. “Nothing here,” he said. Kathleen swallowed hard, thinking they were probably looking for the gun, thinking about what Rhonda had said.

If she had to grovel, she would. If she had to apologize for simply being a woman on the road, she would. Protect your daughter at all costs.

“We’re sorry you feel you’ve been disrespected,” she started, and even saying something so untrue made her skin crawl, “but my daughter and I are simply trying to get home. We have nothing you’d want.”

“Hear that, Andrew? She’s sorry you feel disrespected,” one of the men hooted.

Kathleen raised her voice to drown the others out. “If we offended you, we’re sorry. We meant no harm. Everyone is frazzled and stressed with everything that’s going on. We both jumped to conclusions when I saw you with my daughter back in Chicago. I know a group of good men like you wouldn’t mean her any harm.”

Next to her, Allison made a buzzing sound of anger. Kathleen refused to look at her, knowing she’d see her daughter flushed with fury. If Kathleen showed Allison she was bluffing for even a second, Allison wouldn’t be able to lie to the men. She wouldn’t be able to grovel. Kathleen had to do the hard part and degrade herself in front of these men to keep them both safe. She bent down and grabbed Allison’s backpack, opening it and showing the men what was inside. They peered at the food and water bottles, but Andrew didn’t look phased. Kathleen zipped it back up and handed it to Allison. Allison slung it over her shoulders with bold, defiant motions, as if daring the men to come and take it from her.

Andrew crept closer, the smirk turning into a frown as he stared into Kathleen’s face. “Really now. You’re sorry for what you did back in Chicago? Sorry for shoving a gun into my face?”

“Yes,” Kathleen said, her throat dry. “We’re just trying to get home. Please, let us. You have good hearts, don’t you? I know you do.”

“It’s funny,” Andrew drawled, “I’m familiar with what a woman looks like when she lies and you’re doing it right now without even blinking. You’re a pretty good liar, aren’t you? I really hate liars, though.”

“I’m not—”

The slap rocked her backwards, exploded her world into blackness and stars. Dimly, she realized she’d fallen backwards and landed on her knees. Hands scrambled at her shoulders, pulling her, and she realized Allison was trying to help her up.

He hit me.

Gravel and glass from old wrecks and shattered bottles cut into her hand. Blood filled her mouth. She’d bitten the inside of her cheek. A ringing took up in her ears. She thought she heard Allison scream and the scuffle of shoes being dragged along the ground. Something soft smacked her and the jingle of a zipper. Her pack, being thrown back at her.

He hit me.

Kathleen’s fists clenched, pressing the gravel embedded in her palms deeper. She had never been a violent woman. She’d never been struck in anger or rage before; honestly, no one had ever hit her in her life. She’d never hit anyone in retaliation. She always looked down on those who took advantage of the less fortunate. Violence had seemed silly when problems could be worked out with words instead of fists. Now here she was: her cheekbone throbbing, her eyes pinched and watering in pain, her pride wounded. Battered on the side of the road.

The leather belt along her waist had warmed to her body heat. The gun felt like a solution to a question she didn’t want to ask.

Protect your daughter at all costs.

Allison cried out again, this time her anger sounding farther away and threaded through with fear. The sun warmed Kathleen’s back, providing clarity as sharp as a razor blade. She knew what she had to do. Max, thank you for looking out for me. For us.

Her hand reached behind her and slipped under her sweat-soaked shirt.

I don’t know why you needed this, but I don’t care. The gun was solid in her hands and came out of the holster easily. I’m grateful you sent it to me. She laughed internally, said the motto that had somehow become their secret mantra. Virginia is for Lovers.

25

Andrew. What a normal name, Andrew. Who knew that a man named Andrew would be the one to backhand her. That a man named Andrew would be the reason Kathleen had blood in her mouth.

Kathleen staggered to her feet as the world sloshed to the side before intensely re-focusing. She took one step back and kept her arms tucked behind her, hiding the gun against her backside and leg. The molded plastic and metal felt grounding, something she could trust to defend herself and her daughter. Her eyes fixed on Allison, who was clutched close to a man with blue coveralls and a bucktoothed smile. His hand gripped her neck, his other arm wrapped around her waist and holding her steady with a hand on her hip. Allison’s blue eyes flashed in terror as a dark understanding passed between her and Kathleen.

Kathleen knew if Andrew managed to backhand her again, getting up would be much harder the second time around. He wouldn’t stop there and would most likely do anything to keep her down. She stepped over her backpack, bent her knees, and steadied her stance. If she didn’t do something, it wouldn’t be simply her life at risk. The man pawing at her daughter would take so much more from them both if Kathleen didn’t do something.

She’d been nice. She’d begged and asked and pleaded. Allison was under Kathleen’s protection and she’d go down fighting if it meant she kept her daughter safe.

Andrew took a step closer to her. Kathleen whipped her arms around, leveling the gun barrel straight at him. Second time must be a charm. Her heart cried out in negation, warring with the screaming instinct in her stomach. I want to hurt him. I don’t want to hurt him. Not like this.

“That’s where that gun got to,” Andrew drawled, taking another step forward. Kathleen took another one back, feeling like she was dancing with him. Her back hit the guard rail. There was nowhere else for her to go.

I want him to regret what he put us through. I don’t want to kill him. But I might have to.

The man holding Allison leaned down to whisper in her ear, his lips curling into a leer. Allison let out a choked sound and then closed her eyes as if in defeat.

“Get your men and get in your truck and get away from us,” Kathleen said, knowing this would be his final warning, but she had to give him one more chance. “I know how to use this. Let my daughter go and no one will get hurt.”

Andrew smirked at her. “I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

Fear overwhelmed Kathleen, overpowering any morality holding her back. Her finger hooked around the trigger. She squinted, tears in her eyes, and deliberately pointed the gun just over Andrew’s shoulder. She considered taking a warning shot to scare him until he backed off and show she meant business, but her hand trembled. What if she hit Allison?

Allison whimpered and Kathleen watched the man holding her snarl into her ear, turning to push her sideways just enough so that she was out of Kathleen’s line of sight. Kathleen’s breath caught in her chest—this was her only chance. She couldn’t doubt her choices any longer. If it was between these men and Allison, Kathleen would choose Allison every time. She pulled the trigger, slow and easy, but she still wasn’t prepared for the shock or sound.

The recoil sent Kathleen’s arms jerking up and over her head. She barely held onto the gun. The ringing whine of the gunshot deafened her for a brief moment. The men surrounding them looked from her to their fallen leader in horror.

In front of her, Andrew’s hand flew to his neck. A spurt of blood cascaded through his fingers, darkening the collar of his shirt. His eyes looked like round coins as he took another dragging step towards her, as if he suddenly couldn’t control his feet. She aimed the gun back at him and hoped no one could see her shaking hands. A cold wedge of ice settled in her stomach at what she’d done.

She’d shot someone. She’d shot someone.

“Don’t come any closer,” she whispered. “I’ll do it again. Just try me.”

Andrew collapsed to his knees like a rag doll. Kathleen tried to hold back a sob. She hadn’t meant to hurt him so badly. She just wanted to scare him enough to make him leave her alone. Andrew’s fingers moved just enough for Kathleen to see she’d shot him in the neck. With a sudden spike of numb terror, she realized she could go to prison for this, that she might join Max in his orange jumpsuit attire. What would her parents think? Both children imprisoned for drugs and murder.

Kathleen would lose her children. She’d lose her husband. Her whole life ended because she tried to defend herself and her daughter from men who would have done much worse to them.

Andrew collapsed onto his stomach with a gurgle. Kathleen side-stepped around him, drawing the attention of the crew from their dying leader to her. Don’t back down now, she thought, and pointed the gun up at them. “Let my daughter go,” she said, surprised at how steady her voice sounded.

Tears cascaded down Allison’s cheeks. Sobs shook her shoulders. Kathleen wished she hadn’t killed Andrew, whispered silent apologies that Allison had been exposed to such violence. Would Allison hate her for what she’d done? She couldn’t let a thought like that distract her. Not now.

The man holding Allison loosened his grip, and Kathleen took three long strides forwards, wrenched Allison out of the man’s arms, and shoved Allison behind her. Slowly, she began to edge back towards their fallen bikes. Kathleen waved the gun at them. “You think I’ll end it there?” she asked, her words coming from a place of both fight-or-flight and motherly protection. “If you come after us again, I’ll shoot all of you. You follow us, you’ll all be on the ground.”

The gurgling from Andrew turned into a whimper followed by a terrible silence. The man who’d been pawing at Allison eased back towards the beige truck with his hands held up, palms out. “We won’t, ma’am,” he said softly.

“Don’t be stupid again,” Kathleen shouted as she let go of Allison to upright her bike. “Do you understand me? Don’t you ever threaten anyone like you just did again.”

The men didn’t answer, the same shell-shocked look mimicked on all of their faces. They glanced from her to their now unmoving leader on the gravel. A pool of blood seeped out around Andrew’s head and Kathleen tried not to imagine the blood creeping towards her. She thanked her lucky stars that Andrew’s face was turned away from her, that she couldn’t see the emptiness of it.

Allison sobbed as she scooped up Kathleen’s backpack and managed to get on her bike. Kathleen stuck the gun back in the holster and jumped on hers, terrified that the men would try to block them now that the threat was removed. They didn’t do anything but move out of her way, and Allison hung Kathleen’s bag from her handlebars as they peeled out onto the flat road that led towards Galena and far from the chaos behind them.

Allison cruised ahead of her, picking up speed until they were full-out pedaling away from the truck and the dead man. Kathleen could barely keep up, but she was grateful for the distraction. Dusk raced across the sky in purple and pink twilight. The ice wedge inside Kathleen wouldn’t melt. It floated inside her like an iceberg and threatened to freeze her with everything she’d done. Tears pressed against her eyes; a mixture of guilt, fear, and adrenaline. The road rumbled under her tires, and she pedaled until her breath came out in gasps, putting as much distance as possible between her and the dead man on the asphalt. She tried not to think of the facts. The inevitable answer to the equation she’d just lived through.

She and Allison had been threatened. She’d murdered a man. Not in cold blood, but she’d still taken a life.

Had Max ever used his gun for such a purpose? Did she have some dark stain on her now that labeled her a criminal, a bad woman, a terrible mother? Wasn’t she just protecting her daughter? If she hadn’t killed him, what would have happened?

We would have died, she thought. Awful things would have happened to me. To Allison.

But was it worth murder?

Yes, she thought. The realization stuck in her throat like a fish bone. If push came to shove, she’d do it all again. She’d kill Andrew a hundred times if it meant keeping Allison safe.

26

Fear and frustration filled Matthew as he and David stumbled down the highway. The morning sun had crept over the sky, and while Matthew was bathed in sweat from exertion, David shook with fever beside him. Tense silence lay between them, thick with unsaid worries and survival focus. Matthew didn’t know what to do to help his father: he’d bandaged David’s arm wound as best as he could, but David was struggling. Had Matthew given him too much aspirin? Had his dad bled so much because of the blood-thinner? Was David’s insistence they keep going putting more strain on his heart that it could handle?

“We need to stop for a rest,” Matthew said. David didn’t argue and seemed to collapse against the guard rail lining this section of the highway. Matthew slipped both backpacks off his shoulders and knelt beside David. He finally voiced the fear that had been strangling him all morning, “Dad, are you really all right? What can I do?”

“I don’t know,” David admitted, his voice thin and reedy. “I feel cold.”

Matthew swept his hand over David’s forehead. Clammy to the touch paired with an unnatural heat. “Your fever is getting worse,” he said, peering into David’s glassy eyes. Matthew recalled when Patton had been sent home from school once, his flushed cheeks paired with a tremor that cascaded through his small body. Matthew had made him drink lots of fluids and forced him to take a cool bath and made sure his son got lots of rest. Now, though, he didn’t think the same remedies would help his father. This wasn’t some bug like the flu.

Matthew eyed the blood-stained bandage on David’s arm and took a deep breath. “I think I should check on your wound,” he said. “We should probably wash and change the bandage.”

Honestly, he was grasping at straws. All of his knowledge was piecemeal snippets from watching movies or studying first aid way back in his Boy Scout days. He unwrapped the gauze around his father’s arm carefully. A yellow ooze crusted along with the blood stains underneath the first layer. Matthew’s nose scrunched up at the smell of meat starting to turn. Underneath the bandage, David’s skin had turned a flushed red, the wound itself rimmed in a bright, angrier shade. “Oh god,” he breathed out, and bit his lips to stop anything else from escaping from him.

“That bad, huh?” David opened his eyes and peered at his arm. “Looks infected.”

The gauze stank. Matthew didn’t know if there was a point to trying to wash and reuse it, and he let it plop on the asphalt. “I’m going to rewrap it with new stuff,” he said. “That old bandage has seen better days.”

David nodded and tipped his head back, closing his eyes. “Looks bad, Matt. Remember that time I stepped on a nail? The wound became red and infected like that. Doctor said I was lucky to get to him in time. I don’t see much of a doctor nearby.”

“You don’t have to rub it in,” Matthew said, his joke a mere shadow of humor. “I make just as much money as a marketing expert.”

David huffed a laugh. “Please tell your clients that I do not recommend getting shot. One out of five stars.”

A ghost of a smile flittered across Matthew’s lips. He zipped open his bag and pulled out the first aid kit, flipping open the tabs. Small pre-packaged goods had become jumbled and disorganized in the white tin container. He dug past burn ointment and antihistamines to pull out another alcohol wipe and gauze strips. If worse came to worst, he’d stick all the band-aids in the kit across the wound. He opened a fresh bottle of water and sprinkled water over the wound, betting on the assumption that because the water was packaged, it had to be somewhat sanitary. Then he wiped away as much gunk from it as he could, picking at the yellow crust that gathered in the corners and inspecting the reddened wound for any gauze strands that might have gotten stuck.

Matthew tore through the alcohol wipe and swiped it over his father’s wound. David hissed in pain. Matthew hoped that meant the alcohol was killing some of that bacteria infecting the wound. They wouldn’t be able to do this again, he thought as he started re-wrapping his father’s arm. The medical supplies available to treat this particular wound were almost out. The first aid kit was supposed to be temporary before they found actual help, but as Matthew focused on his task, he wasn’t sure they’d be able to find a hospital anywhere close or even a doctor on call.

He wished uselessly that he could whip his phone out and research what to do. A week ago, he could’ve pulled up at least ten different websites that would teach him how to dress a wound. He’d probably find a bunch of unhelpful advice too, but at least it would be something. Matthew was woefully aware of how much he didn’t know; how much survival knowledge was out of his reach. Knowledge that would be much more helpful than knowing how many Facebook shares would make a post go viral, how to create a pitch-deck for a new business client, and how to use search engine optimization to his benefit.

He felt useless. He couldn’t care for his father. The same helplessness he’d felt when David had his heart attack overwhelmed Matthew suddenly. Once more, he imagined what kind of shame he would feel if he arrived back at the hotel without his father. He couldn’t tell his mom that her husband had died on the long road back to Galena because Matthew’s healing skills were next to none.

He wiped his sandy-blonde hair off his forehead with his elbow and cinched the tail of the gauze with a bendable pronged metal piece. How long should the bandage stay on? He had no idea. He knew that wounds needed to breathe, and hoped that in his attempts to protect the wound from the elements, he wasn’t accidentally creating a perfect breeding ground for bacteria and infection to thrive.

“You should go on ahead,” David piped up, his face still an exhausted gray. “I’m not in any state to keep walking. I’m holding you back.”

Matthew let out a slow breath, knowing what David was about to say next.

“You’ll be much faster without me. Find help. Get home to your wife and kids.”

“I can’t do that, Dad,” Matthew said as a sob caught inside his chest. “I’m not going to walk up to Mom and tell her I left you. You’re not roadkill.”

“Might as well be at this point. Maybe this is a sign I’ve outlived my luck.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Matthew hissed. “I won’t hear it.”

“Ruth will need you. The kids need you. Kathleen can’t do everything on her own. The hotel is probably the safest place in the world right now. You can’t risk them over me.”

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“You have to think of your family,” David said.

“You are my family. Dad, why do you think you’re not important? You’re the guy who taught me how to be a good father, how to take care of my kids. I’m not just going to abandon you because you’re hurt. Pushing me to do so isn’t going to help your case. I inherited your stubbornness.” Matthew handed David a water bottle and David drank deeply. Matthew continued, “Patton wouldn’t give up on me. Kathleen wouldn’t give up on me. I’m not giving up on you. So stop this doom and gloom leave-me-on-the-side-of-the-road crap and let’s get to Galena together in one piece. Can we do that?”

David let out a soft sigh and looked beyond Matthew to the stretch of road left for them to walk. “What are we going to do, then?”

Matthew carefully put away the rest of the supplies in the first aid kit while his mind reeled. Slipping the white container back inside his bag, he managed to fight past the emotion clogging his throat to say, “We need more supplies. You need more than aspirin for the pain. We need more bandages and an anti-bacterial salve. Something that fights off infection and can bring your fever back down.”

“Too bad we don’t know what kind of herbs are growing on the side of the road that we could use.”

Matthew stifled a laugh. “So far I see brush grass and knapweed. Not much for saving your life, unfortunately.”

“You wouldn’t know the difference between aloe and poison ivy.”

“That’s the truth.” Matthew zipped up his backpack and coaxed David to eat a few bites of a protein bar. As David munched on the food, Matthew pulled out the waterproof map and spread it out over his crisscrossed legs. The red squiggle of the highway looped across the map’s slick surface. Everything looked so small and compact on the map, Galena to Madison only a finger-length of distance that translated to miles upon miles. He tried to estimate where he thought they were—noting that they really hadn’t gone far enough to pass any signs—and figured about a mile up the road, he’d find another pull-off exit where they could search for a gas station or grocery store. They could restock their supplies, hopefully avoid any gunfights, and get out in one piece.

Jade lingered in his mind. Both he and David had been wrong to trust her. Yet at the same time, no matter how many times Matthew played out what they could’ve done better, he knew he always would have tried to help her. His heart of gold had been pick-axed by selfish and scared people. The map blurred in front of him and he blinked back tears. He realized he needed to be more careful, especially in trusting others. Question them more than he normally would. He had to take off his rose-tinted glasses and face the reckless ways he’d put both himself and his father in danger. Jade was a wake-up call he didn’t know he needed. If he’d questioned her more, maybe he wouldn’t be sitting on the side of the road with a father flush with sickness and having a crisis about his faith in humanity.

“We aren’t far from an exit,” he told David. “If we go about a mile up, we can probably find someplace to get more supplies, have another rest, and then I can re-dress your wound.”

David nodded weakly, as if that was the only thing he could do at this point.

“Can you make it another mile?” Matthew asked. “Should we rest longer?”

David shook his head and tried to get to his feet. He wobbled, clutching Matthew’s arm for support. When he tried to take a staggering step, he swayed as if he were on the deck of a dinghy. “I feel woozy,” he said. “I need to sit back down.”

Alarm filled Matthew. He helped David settle back on the ground. David hung his head, his fingers rubbing at his temples. Matthew glanced between him and the open road. As much as he didn’t want to leave his father, he was coming to the realization that he might just have to.

27

“It looks like you might get your way, Dad,” Matthew said as he wiped at the sweat beading on David’s forehead. “You can’t go on like this, and we need to restock our supplies. Are you positive you can’t walk? We could get you off the highway and try to find some shade somewhere.”

David took another sip of water. “As soon as I stood up, I felt nauseous,” he admitted. “I felt lightheaded and my heart started pounding.”

“Drink more,” Matthew urged and watched as David grimaced, taking another sip. “You have to stay hydrated.” He expected David to crack a joke, give him hell for acting like a mother hen, but his father’s sudden obedience left Matthew resolute in what he needed to do. David must’ve truly felt terrible if he didn’t utter a grumble at Matthew’s fussing. Matthew pursed his lips and made his decision final. “There’s another exit just up the ways. I’m going to go check it out by myself and bring back supplies. I’ll get more food and water, plus every piece of medical supplies I can find.”

“Okay,” David managed to say, shutting his eyes. His breath came out in wheezy gasps. Matthew felt the urge to put his fingers against his father’s neck and feel his heartbeat and find reassurance in that familiar rhythm. David’s appearance was worse than when he’d been in the ICU after the heart attack. Frail, as if the hulking hugeness of his spirit had been diminished. When Matthew saw him lying in the white hospital bed with tubes coming out of his arm and nose, David looked nothing like the man Matthew remembered from his youth. The heart attack had taken away the bear of a man David used to be, and left this fragile form in its place.

That frail man had recovered, but now the gunshot would had diminished the hugeness of David’s spirit, just like the heart attack had. Matthew hated it, but it only made him more determined that he would save his father, no matter what.

“I won’t be gone long,” Matthew said quietly. “I’ll be back with more supplies, okay? Until then, don’t do anything foolish.”

“Me?” David asked, cracking one eye open. “You’re the bleeding heart between the two of us. Who knows what strays you’ll bring back with you this time.”

Matthew didn’t have the energy to smile. A secret fear was lodged deep inside him. He was terrified that if he let his father out of his sight for one moment, he’d return to find a man withered away to nothing. But if he didn’t leave David to look for more medical supplies, he knew the outcome would be even worse. His father might die.

Unzipping his backpack again, he pulled out a couple bottles of water and the first aid kit, along with some chips, jerky, and a couple of power bars. He organized them in a neat pile beside David and then tucked the gun inside the bag, making sure the safety was turned on. “There’s food and water right next to you,” he explained. “The first aid kit is here too, in case you need something from it. Dad, I swear to you that this is temporary. I will come back for you. I want to be crystal clear that I am not leaving you behind.”

“I know you aren’t,” David said.

“You have to promise me you won’t die on me. I can’t…I can’t come back to that. Promise me.”

David gave him a disbelieving smile. “Sure, son. I promise.”

“I’m serious. Don’t joke at a time like this, please.”

“So am I. Should we make it a pinky-promise? Hurry up, now. You’re wasting daylight.”

Matthew stood and slipped his pack over his shoulders. He looked down at his father and the supplies next to him as if he could remember this moment forever. He felt as if he was clinging to this image of David and willing him not to worsen. “Make sure you eat something,” he said, hoping this wasn’t an order David would disobey just because he could.

“You’re worse than my mother,” David said, shooing Matthew away with a weak hand, but then he turned serious and his joking faded away. “Get going, Matthew. I’ll be waiting here for you. I promise. Just don’t take too long.”

Matthew nodded and turned, wanting to tell his father, I love you, but that felt too much like a goodbye. Gravel crunched underneath his boots as he picked up the pace, using his long stride to cover the ground between his father and the exit. It felt good to finally have the chance to walk at a speed he was comfortable with, and while the landscape remained mainly unchanged, his father became a smaller and smaller speck behind him.

He didn’t know how long it took him to reach the exit, but the sun had just begun to pass its zenith. Ahead of him, the road curved off and down to the right. Matthew looked over the guardrail to see a cluster of gas stations at the base of the exit ramp, and much farther beyond that, the blue and white sign of a Walmart. He let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness for options. Hopefully, one of the gas stations was open and he could gather what he needed. The sooner, the better.

Picking up the pace, he jogged down the exit and headed for the first gas station. As soon as he approached it, he realized the interior was too dark. When he tried the doors, he found them locked. He tried to look past the shuttered windows and peered inside, searching to see if anyone might be in there whose attention he could catch, but the store was empty. Moving on to the next larger convenience store, he found it to be in a similar state. Dark and empty. Looking around, he felt his hope crumble within him. All of the gas stations seemed abandoned and closed up. Nothing was open. No people walked around the parking lots, either. No frustrated drivers stood over the hoods of their cars. Matthew was alone.

It made sense. Matthew didn’t know why he’d gotten his hopes up. It had been a miracle the other gas stations they’d visited had been open in the first place. It made sense that many owners had called it quits, locked up their businesses, and most likely gone to wait out the power outage at home. He put his hands on his hips, breathing heavily from his power-walk, and peered at the large Walmart sign rising in the distance.

He couldn’t see the Walmart building from this point at the bottom of the exit, but he assumed the sign was, most likely, close to the store. He could start walking there, but how much time would it take? He’d already been away from David for at least an hour, and taking a detour to the Walmart would take way more time than he’d like. Plus, what if he showed up and found the store ransacked by others, like the clinic had been? Most people would go there first if they needed something. If he went there, he might be putting himself in danger. He might run into another Jade or Cheese, the kinds of selfish people who wanted to take from him instead of help him. There was no way he could take that chance and lose all his supplies as well as spend more time away from his father.

The store was most likely closed, too. He’d be facing the same dark interiors, the same locked doors. It seemed like a waste of valuable time to walk all the way there, especially when David remained vulnerable and alone on the side of the road. The longer he was away from his father, the worse David might get.

“What should I do?” Matthew asked out loud to the empty parking lot. He thought of his wife and imagined speaking with her. Practical, his wife. Always knew what to do. Always knew how to guide him in the right direction.

Lots of big rocks around here, she whispered in his mind.

Matthew drew in a deep breath and looked down. Boulders ranging from the size of his fist to the size of his head surrounded the aspen trees growing in a strip of grass next to the gas station. It was probably an attempt to combat the acres of concrete and provide a place for people to walk their dogs or take a breather from their cars and trucks. A tiny piece of nature in the swaths of gasoline pumps. He walked over to the grass and picked one of the smaller rocks up. Weighing it in his hands, he thought of the smashed windows of the clinic. Before, he’d thought looters had broken into the pharmacy to steal everything for their own benefit, but maybe the reason the windows had been smashed in was because of desperate people like him, doing whatever it took to get what they needed for their loved ones.

Are you really going to do this? Kathleen asked him.

“Yes,” Matthew said out loud and walked over to the gas station. He double-checked to see if anyone was watching him, but he was still alone. For a moment, shame filled him. Breaking into the gas station would be a crime, but he couldn’t simply let his father suffer and die on the highway. He had to do something.

He cocked his arm back, and threw the rock into the window like lobbing a fastball. The rock hit the glass hard, but the glass wobbled at the impact and didn’t break. The rock hit the concrete.

“You’re kidding me,” Matthew breathed out and he suddenly felt like an idiot. Of course, the glass would be stronger than the average pane. Gas stations were used to break-ins and vandalism. Of course they’d use something that wouldn’t just shatter under pressure.

Don’t be like Dev, Matthew thought. It’s not like it is in the movies. He fetched the rock and hefted it again in his hands, wondering if he should try a second time. Maybe he should get a bigger rock and swing it into the window like he would throw a bowling ball. He didn’t think the result would be any different. He wracked his brain trying to think of what he should do.

Didn’t you bring something along in your bag? Kathleen asked in that snarky tone that told him she knew he’d forgotten something, like that time when he complained that he couldn’t find his wallet and she pointed out that it was sitting on the kitchen table, and hadn’t he actually looked before asking her? Use your eyes, Matt.

The gun. He bit his lip and pulled his backpack off, opening it up and pulling out Jade’s .45. The pistol felt unnatural in his hands. He had little to no experience with guns, really he’d only had the quick lessons David had walked him through once upon a time. Kathleen had mentioned she’d gotten shooting lessons from her father, but Matthew never felt the inclination to learn how to use a weapon like this. He never thought he’d need to. He didn’t particularly find joy in hunting, and his father enjoyed fishing more than heading out into the forest to look for elk. He’d never found excitement in pulling a trigger or shooting targets for fun.

Now, he surveyed the gas station door, wondering if the glass was bullet-proof. If it was, he’d have to travel to the Walmart. No way was he going to waste bullets trying to shoot through every window of every gas station. But he had to try at least once. The owners probably had insurance, and if he did this, they’d be compensated by their policies. He wouldn’t be harming anyone. He had to do this for his father.

Taking a calming breath, he aimed the gun at the lock on the door. If he could damage the lock enough, he could let himself in. He wrapped two hands around the gun’s handle and flipped off the safety with his thumb. His pointer finger curled around the trigger, and he fired.

The sound of the gunshot startled him, reminding him of when the gun had gone off and wounded David. He managed to keep control of the gun even through the recoil. A loud ping of metal on metal rang through the air, and he realized he’d had beginner’s luck: the bullet had busted the handle, and the metal seemed to be held together by a thread. The glass surrounding the handle had shattered, leaving a starburst hole around the doorframe. The door swung open when Matthew pushed on it. A broad grin spread across his lips as he let himself into the darkened store.

“Good idea,” he told the ghost of his wife, “but I’m not sure I’ll mention this to you when I see you again.”

I know you. You’ll spill the beans, Kathleen told him in his head. Now get a move on. You don’t have much time.

28

The glass crunched underfoot as Matthew gently closed the gas station door behind him. It seemed incredibly fragile, and shards that still clung to the starburst hole tinkled together before finally falling to the ground. Matthew thought it somewhat resembled falling snow, in a way, especially when the sunlight refracted off it. He realized again how lucky he had been—despite shooting the door open, he never thought about the bullet ricocheting and hitting him or something else. He’d put himself in incredible danger without understanding the consequences of his actions. Which was probably why he should have gun safety training as soon as possible.

At this point, though, it didn’t matter. He had a purpose. His father’s life was on the line. Get in, get out.

The sun provided just enough light for him to move around the darkened interior of the store. It was a smaller convenience store with a row of refrigerators lining one wall, full of soft drinks, beer, and chilled coffee. The cashier’s counter was at the front, next to the door. He counted about seven aisles. Cardboard display stands advertising a new soda flavor or candy blocked some of them. Guilt started to build inside him as he remembered the empty shelves of the pharmacy. This was thievery, plain and simple. He’d broken and entered into a store with intent. Yet at the same time, he was desperate. David needed treatment, and while Matthew knew his actions were wrong, he couldn’t risk his father’s life. There was no one who could help them. Candy and aspirin could be replaced. There was only one David.

Matthew carefully scanned the aisles, finding the limited shelves of medical supplies filled with many different medications and so many different dosages. He’d said it before and he’d say it again: he wasn’t a medical professional. He had no idea what would be the right medicine to help combat a fever and infection while at the same time keeping his father’s heart healthy and beating. He selected the bottles that indicated they were tried and true ‘fever reducers’ and then all the aspirin available, as well as the remaining bottle of isopropyl alcohol. He analyzed an arm sling with uncertainty and finally stuffed it in his bag. He didn’t want to steal more than he had to, but at the same time he didn’t want to be sorry later that he hadn’t taken everything he thought might be needed. Gauze, cotton balls, antibacterial ointment, and medical tape also ended up in his bag. You never know when you might need all these things, he told himself.

When he was done, he surveyed the now almost bare medical shelves with a wry smile. This could definitely be considered raiding. But it was for his father, he reminded himself. His father who could die otherwise. He needed it. He wasn’t taking all of these things to sell them or lord it over others. This was all for his father.

Afterwards, he began searching the aisles for different kinds of foods beyond the carb-heavy power bars and the empty calories of chips and chocolate. He’d never been a salad-lover, and had looked down his nose at preparing celery sticks or broccoli for snacks many times in the past, but the idea of eating something green made his mouth water. What he’d give to have—god help him—Kathleen’s kale chips.

He spied bags of carrots in one of the darkened refrigerators next to the juices, and decided to take them. He also loaded almond tins, sunflower seeds, hummus and pretzel packages, and dried banana chips into his bag, along with Vitamin Water and Gatorade. The electrolytes would be good for David, and anything vitamin-infused would help both of them. Soon enough, his bag bulged with his spoils, and he zipped it up with a self-deprecating shake of the head.

Before, he’d fought Jade over stealing and overfilling their backpacks because of the weight, and yet here he was, doing the same thing. Still, it would be worth it in the long run. Hopefully, he could get David to eat some of the healthier options instead of the crap they’d been devouring on their trip. Even though his bag was heavy, he figured it would be fine if he was the one carrying the weight. It would be a good thing to nourish themselves with healthy foodstuffs, instead of just junk food.

Slinging the bag over his shoulders, he tightened the straps and began picking his way toward the door. As soon as he placed his hand on the doorframe to push it open again, something caught his eye and he froze. A dark shape was reflected on the glass, some kind of large amorphous blob that seemed to be growing like an approaching person or animal. It cut across the parking lot at just the right angle that Matthew couldn’t get a clear glimpse of whatever it might be without exposing himself. Matthew’s breath hitched in fear. He wanted to lean down and peer out of the hole in the broken glass to look around, but if he did that than someone would definitely know he was there. He couldn’t risk getting caught, being detained. His father needed him.

Carefully, he took his hand off the door so as to not make it move or look like it was being pushed on. He flattened himself against the wall and then ducked behind the cashier’s counter, slipping around it over to a gray door labeled Employees Only. Briefly, he entertained the notion of hiding in there, but he had no idea if the door led to an office without any windows or a storage space with an escape exit. It wasn’t worth finding out. He figured he wouldn’t have an easy way out if he did. At least the gas station was somewhat familiar territory and he moved further around to the far end of the store. Picking a middle aisle at random, he crouched down, trying to hide behind a display advertising thirst-quenching sugar-free new-flavored pop. His heart thudded like a drum. He was sure everyone could hear it for miles.

Just outside the door, someone stepped on the broken glass and uttered a low curse. Matthew held his breath, convinced even his breathing would be too loud and these newcomers would find him right away. “Can you believe this?” the person said. Male. “People are the absolute worst! It’s completely busted.”

“It’s been a crazy few days. You never know what some people will do,” a second masculine voice chimed in. “Taking advantage of hard times.”

“How did it even happen? Like, did this guy have a crowbar or something? It looks like he whaled on it. It’s shattered,” the first voice said darkly. “God, I hate humans sometimes.”

Matthew toyed with the idea of outing himself, standing up and saying hello, sorry for the inconvenience, this breaking and entering has a good reason, I promise. At the same time, he found he was averse to the idea. His indecision felt paralyzing. He thought of Jade—her sweet demeanor, her trembling chin—and frowned. He’d been so easily deceived. He doubted the men surveying the damaged door would have much compassion for him and his dying father, especially if he outed himself as the thief. They’d probably think he was making it all up and force him to give back the goods. Then he’d really be out of luck. If they were marking up everything like the other gas stations, he wouldn’t be able to pay for what he needed, either. Plus, it would waste more time, and Matthew had to get back. He’d already been away from David for too long.

The front door swung open. More glass fell to the ground. Peeking around the display, Matthew watched as two men stepped inside the store. One was tall with a baseball cap on his head. The other wore a plaid shirt. Matthew hunkered down further behind the cardboard display and hoped he couldn’t be seen. A beam of light cascaded through the store, highlighting the shelves just before him. A flashlight.

“See anything?” the first male asked. The beam moved to the floor, and then up to the ceiling, before landing and hovering over the shelves of medical supplies. “Are you kidding me?” the first male said. “We’ve totally been robbed.”

“What did they take?” the second man asked. The flashlight didn’t move from the now bare medical shelf.

“Cleared this shelf out,” the first male said, sounding irritated. “Must be hurt. Took most of the pain killers.”

“And Gatorade,” the second voice added. The flashlight beam had moved to illuminate the refrigerator case. “He must like the blue flavor.”

“Or she,” his friend said glumly. “We better check the back room and make sure nothing else went missing.”

“Do you think they got into the safe?”

“Ugh, I hope not. Only one way to find out,” the first male said. The flashlight illuminated the floor in a circular beam of light and Matthew’s heart thundered in his chest as the two men walked past him and opened up the back-room door. As soon as the door closed on them, Matthew leapt to his feet and scrambled to dig out the remaining wad of cash stashed in his boot. The money was damp in his hands as he snuck closer to the front. He had no idea how much he held, but then again, it was a small price to pay for the stolen goods, and to also ease his conscience.

Slapping the money on the counter without counting it, he tiptoed over the glass and tried to be as quiet as possible, all while worst possible scenarios ran through his head. The owners could emerge from the back room at any moment. If they saw him, they’d catch him and force him to wait for some kind of police to show up. Maybe they’d take matters into their own hands and lock him in the back room. At this point, it probably wasn’t a bad idea to assume they had a gun as well. And then David would be on the side of the road, watching the sun set, wondering if Matthew had indeed abandoned him for his wife and children. Maybe David would try to find him, which would exacerbate his condition that much more.

The soft hush of glass clinking together filled the room as he slowly pushed the door open. A raised voice coming from behind the closed door made chills run down his spine. He had to get out of there as fast as possible, but he still had to do it as silently as he could. He eased through the door, and every move he made sounded heightened. He held his breath as he began to shut the door behind him. Once it finally closed with a light whoosh, Matthew turned and ran as fast as he could across the parking lot, keeping to the shadows as much as he could. His lungs burned from the frantic sprint, but he had to get as far away from the gas station as possible.

He didn’t stop or look back until he was at the top of the exit and back on the highway, and even then, his heart felt like it might burst.

29

As soon as Matthew spotted his father slumped against the guardrail, he knew something was wrong. He held his hand up and waved, letting his father know it was him, but David gave no sign of recognition. Matthew began to jog, picking up his pace until he was at a full-blown run. His heart pounded in his chest. The weight of the heavy backpack made his shoulders ache. His lungs still burned from his mad-dash escape from the gas station. The sun was now cresting into mid-afternoon and Matthew wished he hadn’t taken so long getting back.

Skidding to a stop next to his father, Matthew dropped to his knees. David’s head lolled back. His body was limp with unconsciousness. Matthew shoved his bag off his shoulders. A fine tremor took up in his hands as he put two fingers against his father’s neck, seeking a pulse. For a moment, he felt nothing and then shifted his fingers just enough to finally feel the thready pulse beat against his fingertips. Letting out a breath of relief, he placed the back of his palm against David’s forehead. Blistering hot. David’s eyes fluttered in recognition, but for the most part remained closed. The intensity of the fever caused Matthew to frown in distress. He knew long-lasting high fevers came with a ton of problems. Matthew needed to get him cool, or at least get a handle on the fever as much as he could before it got worse.

“It’s gonna be okay, Dad,” he whispered, as if to reassure them both, even though he didn’t think David could hear him.

Taking the bandana out of the bag, he drenched it in lukewarm water from one of the water bottles sitting next to David and laid it over his father’s forehead. Then he took out the bottles of Vitamin Water and Gatorade from the gas station and placed the still-cold bottles against David’s cheeks and throat. David shuddered in response. The afternoon heat did them no favors, and when a light breeze finally blew past them, Matthew hoped it helped in cooling the bandana over David’s forehead. David began shivering uncontrollably.

The wound had started bleeding again, and a bloom of red stained the bandage Matthew had applied earlier that morning. There were raised scratch marks around the bandage, as if David had tried to pull it off as he fell into unconsciousness.

Once he felt that David had cooled down some, he pulled out all the stolen medical supplies and began unraveling the gauze around the wound. The bad smell had increased. There was more yellow crust coating the wound, which was especially thick around the bright red edges. It looked like a sideways teardrop and Matthew imagined the bullet trajectory that had hit his father’s arm, taking a chunk of meat out and leaving Matthew to deal with this large, open gash. He unscrewed the isopropyl alcohol, soaked a cotton ball in the liquid, and began wiping the wound clean.

David hissed when Matthew first touched him. His arm instinctively jerked back as Matthew continued with his ministrations. Matthew counted that as a good thing. Maybe David wasn’t completely unconscious, and hopefully, he was still conscious enough to feel something. Maybe the pain would bring him around again. He took his time picking out any other gauze wisps that had gotten stuck in the wound’s edges, cleaning it carefully until he felt like the alcohol had done its work. Then, he smeared antibacterial ointment over the wound, particularly applying it thickly over the edges where the yellow crust had built up, and hoped it would do the trick. David let out a soft moan, his head rolling back and forth.

“I’m sorry,” Matthew said to him, feeling as if he was in a daze and nothing existed except the two of them. His head began to ache from the intense concentration he needed to patch the wound up. “I know it hurts, but I have to do this,” he said to David. Maybe David found his voice soothing. Matthew wasn’t sure, but it helped him to talk out loud.

He began to wrap the wound again in new gauze, this third bandage much better than his previous two. Practice makes perfect, he thought as he tucked the gauze edges in and clipped it secure with the metal prong. “Next thing,” Matthew said to David, taking the leftover water from making the wet compress. Just under half remained. He popped open the fever reducer and crushed it as best as he could, slipping the small pieces into the water bottle and swirling them around to dissolve in the water. The bigger pieces he fed to David slowly, using the infused water to help his father swallow the fever reducer. The instructions told him he had to give the medicine to his father every four hours.

Taking out his cell phone, he turned it on. The familiar screen blinked as it booted up. As soon as he saw his app icons and the picture on his screen, he wondered if perhaps the phone was working, and that maybe this was all a terrible dream. He closed his eyes and held the phone tightly in his hand. Maybe, when he opened his eyes, he’d be able to hold the phone up to his ear and suddenly find himself waking up in his bed. This elaborate nightmare would be something he’d tell Kathleen about as they shared their morning coffee. He opened his eyes and looked down at the phone screen. The tiny blip of hope he nurtured inside of him died. While he didn’t have signal, luckily his phone still displayed the time. With a sigh, he opened up his alarm app and began to set reminders. This would drain the last of his battery and the phone would likely die soon after the final alarm as dawn rolled around, but it was worth it now. He couldn’t tell the time by the passing moon, and if he slipped into sleep, he didn’t want to miss a dosage time.

Alarm set, he finally managed to look up and around. The afternoon had slid into evening. Matthew felt like no time had passed at all, but by the ache in his body and the mental fatigue, he knew he’d been focused for far longer than he thought. He thought about trying to sleep, but his mind buzzed, as if somehow still dealing with the panic of seeing his father motionless. He couldn’t seem to calm down.

He checked David’s pulse. The fever hadn’t abated. David’s cheeks were flushed a bright pink. His father’s lips were chapped and parted, and his eyes rolled restlessly underneath his eyelids. Matthew let out a sigh and he rubbed his forehead to try to ease the tension. He probably wouldn’t be able to get any sleep at this point. His worry over David’s condition felt like a steady whine in the back of his mind. Every time David made a movement or uttered a sound, Matthew was checking his wound, feeling for a pulse, pouring more water over the bandana in an attempt to cool his father down as much as possible. At least no new bloodstains had seeped through the new bandages. Matthew took that as a good sign. He decided to settle in for a long night.

He drank some Gatorade and chuckled at himself. The gas store owners had one thing right. He’d stocked up on the blue flavor. Next, he munched on some carrots, grateful for the variety in taste and texture, while double-checking the map. They were close to Galena. Not too much longer, a day or two at most, and they’d be back to the River Rock Hotel. He couldn’t believe that the two of them had made it this far already.

Matthew’s desire to be home felt like a physical ache, and he let himself daydream of what it would be like to finally round that last bend up the mountain road and see the hotel framed by the trees and jagged peaks of the mountain range. He’d be able to sleep in his own bed again. He’d hug his wife and children so tight they’d beg him to let them go. This endless stress would finally come to an end. He could go back to worrying about the hotel marketing strategies instead of whether his father was going to breathe his last. David would be able to take his prescription, and he would be cared for in the safety of the hotel, surrounded by family.

As the moon rose, the temperature dropped, and Matthew’s phone alarm buzzed. On repeat, he crunched up more of the fever reducer and fed it slowly to David. He observed David obsessively to ensure that his father didn’t choke and that the medicine went down smoothly. David never opened his eyes. The night seemed never-ending, and Matthew’s world narrowed down to him dozing off to then suddenly jerking awake in a full-blown panic, convinced he’d missed the latest dosage or that David had passed away. After he managed to calm down, he fed his father more medicine, checked on his fever, and double-checked the bandage. Rinse and repeat.

When the sun finally crested up and over the horizon, Matthew swayed with exhaustion. His phone had died. Yet his focused ministrations were successful: at some point around five in the morning, David had eased into a deep sleep if his snores were anything to go by. The fever hadn’t broken but David wasn’t boiling to the touch anymore, and color had begun to return to his face.

Matthew re-dressed the wound, and felt heartened to see the red inflammation had gone down, even though the puffy skin around the gash still felt hot to the touch. He cleaned it, applied the antibacterial ointment, and nearly dropped the gauze when he heard, “How’s it looking?”

“Dad,” Matthew breathed. Relief crashed through him. “Thank god you’re awake.”

“I feel awful,” David admitted. David blinked heavily at him, as if focusing was a difficult task.

Matthew couldn’t help but beam at him. “You were so sick. It’s a relief to see your eyes open.”

“How long was I out?”

“Half a day and all night. I managed to find more medical supplies at the gas station. I can’t even imagine what would have happened if I hadn’t.”

“I’m glad the gas station was open. Do we have anything to eat?”

Matthew felt the wattage of his smile dim, but David didn’t need to know what Matthew had done. He should continue to think of his son as the bleeding heart, the man with rose-tinted glasses and gold in his veins, that would do anything to help anyone. Matthew didn’t want David to know that he’d broken into a gas station and left the shelves bare like they’d seen at the clinic. “Yeah,” he managed to say and then brought out the hummus and pretzel package. “How’s this look? I have carrots and almonds too.” He held up all the healthy food he’d taken and smiled when David made a sound of approval.

“Anything is better than a power bar at this point,” David said.

As Matthew peeled back the plastic seal on the hummus, his father asked, “How were you able to buy all this?”

“Used all the cash in my boot,” Matthew said, hoping David wouldn’t ask anything else. “I’m a pauper now.”

David’s laugh came out as a wheeze. “We still have some in mine. I’ll let you borrow some.” He winked and began to munch on the pretzels.

David’s good humor made Matthew want to jump for joy. He opened the almonds, and they ate in silence for a few moments. Finally, Matthew cleared his throat and said, “The good news doesn’t stop, by the way. We’re close to Galena. If we can keep up a good pace, we can get there in a day or two. But we shouldn’t push you. Last night was touch and go. We don’t have enough supplies for you to backslide. I don’t think I have the mental fortitude to see you backslide, either.”

David smiled at him and took a drink of water. “What are we waiting for, then? Let’s get at it.”

“Take it easy, Dad. We have all day. No use overexerting yourself.”

“Can you imagine your mother’s face when she sees us?” David said. “I bet she’s worked herself into a state wondering where we are. I can’t wait to see her.” He let out a sigh and looked in the direction they would be heading. “I’m ready to be home, Matthew. I’ve had enough of crap food and sleeping on the side of the road.”

“Me too,” Matthew said, “but you really scared me last night. Let’s not put gray hairs on my head if we don’t need to, okay? Give me a break, if not yourself.” He began repackaging the food into their pack, along with the rest of the medical supplies. Then he stood up and offered David his hand.

David sat up straighter, and took Matthew’s hand. Once on his feet, he staggered and Matthew thought for a moment he would fall over, but then David found his balance with a small grin of relief. “I could climb a mountain,” he said. “Sickness? No problem. Gunshot? No problem.”

Matthew slung his pack over his shoulders. He didn’t want to ruin David’s good mood with suggestions that they take it slow, but he would keep a watchful eye on his father as they continued to walk. If David showed any sign of distress, Matthew would insist they rest.

But for now, as he stood shoulder to shoulder with David, he was simply relieved to have his father back.

30

Ruth woke from her doze still sitting on the couch with a crick in her neck and numb legs. Patton snoozed with his head pillowed on her thigh. He clutched a small hammer in his hands as if it were a toy. By the light, Ruth could tell it was early morning, and that the sun had just barely risen. They’d been asleep for an hour, perhaps two. From where she sat, she could see the haphazard patchwork they’d done of the windows and she stifled a sigh: in the dead of the night, amped up on adrenaline, her hammering and taping skills had not been at their finest, and only now could she see the numerous flaws. Even from her vantage point on the couch, she could detect where the plastic sheeting hadn’t quite matched up, leaving small but numerous triangles of space which let cold air inside the hotel. The plywood needed to be adjusted and rehammered. She shivered and tried to pull her shawl tighter around her. It looked like they would have an arduous day in front of them.

She ran her hand through Patton’s sleep-mussed hair, making it stick up at all ends. He groaned and sat up. “Good morning,” Ruth said to him softly.

He yawned. Dark circles marked his eyes and he rubbed them hard. “Morning, Grandma. No one came in last night?”

She shook her head. “No, but we need to figure out what to do with those broken windows. We’ll need to redo our patching job.”

He peered around her, a frown already on his face. “We didn’t do a good job, did we?”

“At three in the morning? I could barely function,” she said, standing up and stretching. “We’ll get it fixed up this morning and it will be much better.” Her joints popped. An ache had settled in her lower back. Her arms were tired from the previous day’s activities and the events of the night. Now that the sun was out, things didn’t seem as terrifying, but the broken windows were a big obstacle. She couldn’t call someone to help her or set up an appointment for a repair shop to order new panes. She hadn’t heard from Matthew or David in days. The best thing to do would be to board up the windows a second time, and then go into town to look at replacements. If anyone was even open, that is.

“I think I saw some bigger plywood boards in the garage last night, but it was too dark to tell,” she said. “We’ll have to take down what’s up there and reposition it. Cover everything up. Re-tape the plastic over the smaller pieces that don’t line up.”

Patton nodded with another yawn. “Sounds good to me, Grandma. Boy, am I sore, though.”

“After breakfast,” Ruth added. “I need some coffee. You’re a good sport to help me out with all of this.”

Patton nodded, but as they walked back down to the kitchen, he still kept the hammer close.

* * *

After a quick morning meal, Ruth and Patton searched through the garage and shed. Ruth was thankful they had the sunlight to see by and was pleased to find some more suitable pieces of plywood and another pallet that they tore apart. Then, they brought everything back inside and began tearing down the plastic sheeting and cardboard, repurposing what they could and readjusting until both large windows had been relatively covered.

Patton nailed the plywood to the window frames. Ruth followed behind him and taped plastic sheeting over the holes. She then stood on a stepstool and ladder to hold the plywood in place if it was too far up for Patton to reach while he handed her nails and a hammer. Finally, she climbed down and stood back to survey their work. No one would be able to get into the hotel without some effort, and that included any pesky wildlife that might have ideas about finding a new home inside of their hotel.

Now that the windows were boarded up, it left the lobby’s lounge looking much darker, but at least it wasn’t freezing cold from the mountain air anymore. Ruth double-checked their work with a critical eye as she took a sip of lukewarm coffee. Grounds swirled in her cup. She hadn’t yet mastered the drip method, but it was better than nothing. The tight knot of anxiety in her stomach had loosened when she couldn’t spot any other problems in their construction. She hoped that whatever—or, more ominously, whoever—had shattered the glass wouldn’t come calling again.

“We did a good job, Patton,” Ruth said. “You could become a construction worker at this rate.”

“You don’t pay me enough, Grandma.” Patton chuckled and gave Ruth a big hug.

The sound of the front door rattling startled them both. Wild hope bloomed inside of Ruth. Could it be David? Kathleen? Patton looked up at her with the same hope reflected in his eyes. She hurried over to unlock the door and let their visitor in.

The door rattled harder as if with frustration, and then a sudden bang filled the air—as if the person had kicked the front of the door. Ruth hesitated with her hand on the lock just before the doorframe splintered and the lock broke in her hands. She stepped back to avoid getting hit, and the door swung open to reveal the mechanic they’d met yesterday. He gave Ruth a lopsided grin. “Well, fancy meeting you here,” he drawled and stepped through the doorway.

“Samuel?” Ruth asked and knew she sounded incredulous. “What do you think you’re doing? You just ruined my front door!” Tears filled her eyes. Her hopes had been dashed and now something else was broken in the hotel. What else could go wrong? Patton grabbed her hand and yanked her back as Samuel pushed past her and into the hotel.

“My front door, you mean.” Samuel’s lopsided grin became a full-blown smile. “Didn’t think I’d have the guts to come up here, did you? You thought you city-slickers could just take what’s my birthright? Not anymore. This place is mine.”

“You need to leave,” Ruth said, pointing her finger into his chest and trying to hide her trembling. She wasn’t going to be talked to like that. Who did Samuel think he was? He couldn’t just force his way into someone’s home and pretend to claim it as his own. “You’ll be paying for my new door, by the way. Now, get off my property.”

“This isn’t your property,” Samuel snarled. “This hotel was promised to me since I was a boy.”

“I don’t see your name on the deed,” Ruth said, tilting her chin up and pushing Patton up against her hip. He tugged frantically on her hand and had his widened eyes fixated on Samuel. Ruth felt anger begin to boil inside her and her voice rose as she continued to speak, “My family purchased this place fair and square. It’s our home. You’re trespassing on private property, and I advise you to leave now.”

“What are you gonna do? Call the cops?” He laughed as if it was the funniest joke he’d ever told. “Even if you could get a hold of them, they wouldn’t do anything. They’ve been friends of mine for years. They know my father promised me this hotel. The hotel that you stole from us. I’m only coming to claim what’s rightfully mine.”

Ruth’s lips pursed together tightly, and she wished Patton had his hammer. Her hands itched to grab something that would show she’d push back against this arrogant bully. Samuel’s breath stank as if he hadn’t brushed in a while. That, paired with the pungent scent of booze, told Ruth that Samuel West was nothing but a mean drunk. Patton squeezed her hand so tightly it hurt and she glanced down at him. His eyes darted from hers to the double-barrel shotgun loosely hanging in one of Samuel’s hands. The polished handle was near Samuel’s hip, but the barrel hung down towards the ground and almost dragged. It swung side to side as Samuel staggered closer. In her anger, Ruth hadn’t noticed it. Now, a cold rush of dread filled her.

“Hey now,” Samuel said, his own eyes following their line of sight down to the gun, “no need to be inhospitable. I’m a friendly guy. Just taking back what’s mine is all. You’re allowed to stay. It is a hotel, after all. I’m sure we could find a room for you, that is, if you can afford it.”

“You’re not staying here,” Ruth said, enraged at this man’s audacity. She couldn’t believe the absolute nerve of the man, saying he had a right to come in here and claim this place, thinking he could stick his flagpole on the rug-covered floors and that would suddenly erase their mortgage paperwork and ownership deeds.

Samuel swung the shotgun up and out, aiming it straight at Ruth. She backed up and wrenched Patton behind her with a hand on his shoulder that was hard enough to bruise. The double barrels seemed to stare at her like two eyes and her dread became pure terror.

“Like I said, I’m a friendly guy,” Samuel repeated, “and I don’t mind having visitors. I especially don’t mind housing people who don’t have anywhere to stay—even thieves like yourselves. You can earn your keep by working for me at my hotel. Just as long as you remember who the boss is.” He smiled that crooked grin at Ruth again.

Ruth’s cheeks blazed hot with anger. A million things filled her mind, but she couldn’t pick one to say. Her throat clicked as she swallowed.

Samuel’s pointer finger tapped against the trigger, turning Ruth’s resolve to water. Beside her, Patton shivered in fear.

“Do you have an issue with that?” Samuel asked. “If you do, we can talk about it right now. You, me, and…” he trailed off and tapped his finger against the trigger one more time.

Ruth swallowed hard, feeling helpless. She didn’t know what to do or say. They couldn’t call anyone for help. Samuel could shoot both her and Patton at any moment. The best thing to do was go along with Samuel’s crazy notion until they could somehow find some way to escape. “Of course, Samuel,” she said. “What can I do for you to make you more comfortable during your stay?”

“I’ll be taking up residence here,” Samuel said, looking around at the hotel lobby with something like love in his eyes. “Since it’s nearing ten, I’d love some breakfast. First thing you can do to earn your keep. Don’t skimp now. I refuse to eat cereal or muffins. Make me something delicious. Homemade. That’s what this hotel is all about. Homemade and down to earth.”

Ruth shuffled back, still keeping her body between Patton and the gun. “Of course,” she said.

“Then we’ll take another look at those windows,” Samuel said, looking over at them and shaking his head as if she and Patton had done a terrible thing. “Good thing I’m here. You did a crap job of boarding them up. Too bad someone had to take them out in the first place.” He winked at Patton, and Ruth felt another wave of rage flow through her. She wanted to scream at Samuel, demand he admit he broke the windows.

She turned on her heel, forcing Patton in front of her. Samuel made a tutting sound, and his lumbering steps followed her as they went into the kitchen. Patton remained unusually quiet. Ruth heard the shotgun tap against the walls and knew Samuel had it trained on her most of the time. In the kitchen, Samuel plopped down at the counter with a contented sigh. He rested the shotgun across his knee, letting it wave back and forth. Ruth was still mainly in its line of sight.

“Can I get you a coffee?” Ruth asked, and then, remembering the smell on him, “Perhaps you take yours as an Irish coffee?”

“It’s mid-morning,” Samuel drawled. “The time for coffee has passed. Just bring me the bottle.”

Ruth felt like a robot as she walked to the storage room and pulled out the nice bourbon bottle from their stores along with a small snifter. She walked slowly back to Samuel and he widened his eyes in anticipation, as if expecting her to wait on him. With shaking hands, she poured two fingers worth into the glass. Samuel tipped the glass back, swallowing the alcohol in one go. He dropped the glass again and she made a move to fill it once more.

“I’m hungry,” he said, waving her off with a snarl. He grabbed the bottle from her and poured a much more generous helping into the glass. The smell made Ruth desperate for a breath of fresh air. She felt as if she were drowning. Samuel’s body odor filled the air alongside the sharp tang of bourbon, and in her own fear, everything felt heightened.

“Is there something in particular you want?” Ruth asked, trying to keep her voice steady. Patton sat across the counter from Samuel, his arms crossed protectively against his chest. He studied Samuel, and Ruth hoped he wouldn’t say or do anything to enrage Samuel further. “Why don’t you go upstairs, Patton?” she suggested, hoping he could get out and maybe run into town for help.

“The boy stays.” Samuel bounced the shotgun against his leg as if in warning. Ruth’s mouth went dry. “I’m sure he’d enjoy a hotel feast, don’t you think? I want the works. Eggs, bacon, whatever you got, fry it up.”

Ruth nodded, her mind going blank as if she’d never made breakfast before in her life. As if on autopilot, she pulled out the rest of the eggs from the van and the smoked meat.

“Don’t you have anything else?” Samuel asked. “You can’t serve hotel guests scraps.”

Ruth knew that nothing would please Samuel. “We haven’t gotten our usual shipment in yet,” she said.

Samuel scoffed. “Of course you haven’t. You probably wasted all that food you took from the van, didn’t you? This is why you shouldn’t be in charge of the hotel. You’re too lazy.”

Ruth didn’t respond, but she pulled out what remained of the bacon and some extra sausage patties. She cooked everything available that would keep Samuel in a good mood. Her hands trembled and briefly, she wondered if she might be going into shock. As she heated up the pan and dropped butter in the middle, she couldn’t think of a single thing to do to escape him or to keep Patton safe. All she could do was appease him and hope he kept the shotgun aimed at her and that it never wavered towards her grandson.

Once the food was ready, she pulled out the nice china that was one of Kathleen’s heirlooms. Internally, she felt a hysterical laugh build up as she put the meat and eggs onto the plate and served her new…boss.

“I want to eat in the dining room,” Samuel said with a pout that looked strange on his face. He motioned Patton to come closer to him. The bourbon smell around Samuel was nearly overwhelming. Patton stared at Samuel, and Ruth knew that he was about to refuse. She couldn’t let him pick a fight with Samuel.

“Patton, take these plates with you,” Ruth said suddenly, cutting into Patton’s line of sight and sliding the two plates into his arms. Quickly, she plated a third, and then standing between him and Samuel, she said, “Lead the way.”

Samuel gave her an appraising look. “That’s more like it,” he said and tucked the bottle under one arm. They walked out of the kitchen into the dining area.

It was small for intimate dining, outfitted with only a few bistro tables and one larger table for bigger parties. Unpacked boxes were still in the corners. Ruth slid the plates onto the big table, making sure Patton sat on her side away from Samuel. Samuel took his seat at the head of the table. The shotgun was cradled in his lap as he reached for the silverware, stuffing the eggs into his mouth, alternating between bites and swigs of bourbon straight from the bottle.

The food tasted like ash in Ruth’s mouth. She took small measured bites, watching as Patton moved his food around the plate without eating.

“Do you know the history of this place?” Samuel asked, taking another swig. “This hotel was mine from the start. My daddy was going to buy it, but he couldn’t afford it. Then, when it was on the market, I made plans to purchase it, but you city-slickers outbid me. I’ve lived here my whole life and you swoop in here and think everything just belongs to you because you have the money for it. Well, I had to earn my money.” His words had started to slur, becoming longer and more drawn out.

Ruth refused to respond to his delusional ramble as Samuel listed off the ways the Rileys had taken his birthright from him. How they’d come in as if they’d been decked out in jewels and glitter, looking down on the West family who’d been long-time Galena folk, who deserved what they were owed. By the time Samuel finished his food, Ruth had a good idea why Samuel and most likely his father couldn’t afford to buy the hotel. He’d nearly finished the bourbon.

“This is good,” Samuel told her. “You’re gonna be a good worker for the hotel. A good server.”

Ruth knew her smile was icy, but as soon as Samuel belched, she knew she’d never let a drunk like Samuel West be her undoing. For Patton’s sake, she’d endure his ridiculous accusations, she’d listen to his nonsensical talk, but she would survive this. She could do it all with dignity and stay strong until her family came home.

Matthew and David would be coming for them. She would hold on until they did. Then, when she had the backup she needed, the Riley family would take care of Samuel West.

31

When Matthew finally saw the welcome sign to Galena, he sagged in relief. They were nearly home. David seemed heartened too when he saw the sign, and from there to the foot of the mountain road leading up to the hotel, he didn’t lean on Matthew’s arm for support. Matthew was distraught to see that the power outages had affected Galena just as they had Madison. Dead cars lined the streets. Matthew hadn’t seen anyone for miles.

“That’s a sight for sore eyes,” David said as he looked up at the mountain road. Matthew held out his arm, and David took it, leaning his weight into Matthew without complaint. They both wanted to reach home as fast as possible. Now that they were so close, they both had problems stopping and resting. As they walked, Matthew mentally greeted the trees and switchbacks as if they were old friends. When the pines finally parted to show the small hotel nestled in a meadow against the cascade of jagged peaks behind it, a grin broke across his face. Relief filled him and he wanted to fall to his knees or maybe lift his arms up in the air and holler in victory. We made it. He couldn’t believe it. After all they’d endured, they were finally home. David gripped his shoulder in joy and gave him a little shake as if he had to express his happiness.

“We did it,” Matthew said. “We actually did it.”

“I’m just as shocked as you are. I can’t wait to see your mother. I can’t wait to sit in an actual chair,” David said as he began to take a couple of steps closer to the hotel. “Use a real bathroom. Wash my face and hands.”

Matthew grabbed David’s shoulder to stop him. He hadn’t realized at first, being overwhelmed with reaching home and having survived the trek, but the two front picture windows had been boarded up with a mix of cardboard, plywood, and plastic sheeting. A wave of uneasiness flowed through him. Normally, he’d be more than happy to run into the hotel, but he realized that he’d become more observant on this trip as well as more cautious. “Look,” he said, pointing to the windows. “How did the windows get broken?”

“A storm, maybe?” David said with a frown. He furrowed his brow in concern. “A wild animal?”

Matthew shook his head. “Dad, look at the siding. There are two big indents in the siding that looks like someone took a sledgehammer to it. I don’t know of any wild animal that would barge into the side of the hotel and leave marks like those. We’d see more marks on the outside than just two.” He glanced up and studied the surrounding foliage. “And the trees aren’t missing any branches. I don’t see storm damage to anything around here that could’ve caused the windows to break like that.”

David turned to Matthew, alarm plain on his face. “Something must be wrong. We have to get Patton and Ruth.” He began to rush towards the front door, but Matthew grabbed his arm. David gasped in pain.

“God, I’m so sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to hurt your arm. We need to take a moment and think. We can’t simply rush into the hotel. Remember Jade? There could be a lot of dangerous people in there. We can’t fight them off if there are. We need to gather our thoughts. Maybe we can see something through the plastic.”

“If our family is in danger we need to help them now, Matthew!”

“If our family is in danger, we can’t barge in and announce our return, Dad. We need to think this through. Strategize. It could be two against who knows how many. We could ruin everything and possibly put Mom and Patton in even more danger if we go in guns blazing.”

David studied him for a moment as if he’d never seen Matthew before. He nodded slowly in agreement. “You’re right. I can’t believe you’d say something like that, Matt. This trip has changed you.”

“Being held at gunpoint will do that to a man,” Matthew said. “Let’s see if we can see anything through the windows.”

Together, they snuck up to the boarded-up windows, taking care that they didn’t make a lot of noise on the gravel or in the grass surrounding the hotel. Matthew hunched over and wiped at the plastic covering to clear it of dirt and pollen, peering into the lobby through a small slit. The lobby looked darkened, but Matthew could see a dark shape gesturing wildly with its hand along the far wall. His blood ran cold when the dark shape turned, and Matthew could clearly make out the long shape of a double barrel shotgun. The person held the shotgun as if he didn’t consider it a weapon. The barrel swung back and forth without care or respect. As the dark figure came closer to the picture windows, Matthew held his breath and feared the person would be able to see them.

“It’s a man,” David whispered. “A big man with a shotgun.”

Now that the man had moved closer, Matthew could see the stranger better: he slumped in one of the chairs and rested the shotgun in his lap briefly before he picked it up again and waved it around. Matthew strained to hear what he was saying, but he couldn’t catch much through the plastic.

“Do you know who it is?” Matthew asked David. “He doesn’t look familiar to me.”

“I think it’s the mechanic down at that local shop. I think his name is Samuel,” David said. “I took the Volvo there for an oil change when we first moved here. He seemed like a nice enough guy.”

Samuel held the gun like a scepter and jabbed the air with it, as if to emphasize an order or command. Matthew couldn’t see his mother or son, but Samuel used the gun again for emphasis, and then looked slowly around the lobby as if he owned the place. The muffled sound of his raised voice reached Matthew’s ears and Matthew strained until he could finally make out what he was saying. “...Imma gonna whip this place into shape. Gonna get rid of all this crap here.” Samuel smacked the couch cushion beside him as if offended. “Make it a real hunting lodge like it should’ve been, like it should be, instead of this hoity-toity crap.”’

David and Matthew exchanged an alarmed look, but they both said nothing. Matthew listened intently as the man continued to rant.

“Folks will come around for miles and miles and miles,” Samuel continued. “They’ll all hole up here, just…just like my Pops said they would. When the West family gets what’s theirs, people will cross state lines to see it. How long does it take to pour a drink, huh? How long?” This last part was screamed into the hallway.

“He sounds delusional,” David breathed out.

Matthew shook his head in disbelief, just about ready to pull back and slink away to figure out their next move, when he caught sight of another figure rushing into the room. As the figure got closer, Matthew couldn’t help the sudden anger that filled him. The figure was his mother, holding a plate with a glass perched on it as if she were a servant in her own home. Ruth’s usually tidy bun looked frazzled, as if she’d run her hands through her hair more than once. She wore an old dress with a shawl over her shoulders, something Matthew had only seen her wear on mornings when she took it easy and enjoyed her coffee. Her eyes looked red-rimmed as she handed Samuel a whiskey snifter half full, and finally the man’s rambling made sense. Samuel wasn’t delusional, he was just drunk. The shotgun teetered back and forth, resting on Ruth enough times for Matthew to see red.

“Thanks, honey,” Samuel said to Ruth. “You’ve been such a good girl for me. Keep it up, okay? Earn your keep.”

Ruth gave him a slim smile, one that Matthew had often seen in the days following David’s heart attack. A pretend-I’m-okay smile that really spoke to how stressed and scared she was even though she always held her head high. She uttered something to Samuel that Matthew couldn’t make out.

A new wave of fury flowed through him. No one should treat his mother that way. His mother wasn’t a good girl—she wasn’t a dog to be treated kindly if she did something right. Matthew’s hand curled into a fist. For a brief moment, he considered barging into the room, knocking Samuel down a peg, and throwing the glass on the floor. Demand Samuel apologize to his mother before kicking him out of their home and their lives.

David laid a hand on Matthew’s arm. Somehow, Matthew managed to keep his temper by using the touch as a grounding point. He tried to see further into the room and identify other shapes of his family, but only saw Ruth and Samuel. “I don’t think Kathleen or Allison are here,” he whispered to David.

“I don’t see them either,” David said. “We must have beat them here. I can’t see Patton, either.”

Matthew grimaced, wondering where his wife and daughter could be, and yet he felt relieved they weren’t in any additional danger here. If they were, the chances were higher that they could get hurt if something went sideways.

Because Matthew was going to take back his home from this intruder. He was going to make Samuel West regret the day he came to River Rock Hotel.

David nudged him and turned away from the window. Reluctantly, Matthew followed, keeping low to the ground so they wouldn’t be spotted out of the other windows. Matthew had no idea whether Samuel had brought friends with him, and he had a sudden chilling thought: he hoped Patton wasn’t being held hostage or that his safety wasn’t being used to blackmail Ruth into obedience. He didn’t think that would be the case, especially since Samuel was drunk and raving, but Matthew couldn’t take any chances. This was the safety of his mother and son. He’d do whatever it took to remove them from harm. After all he and David had gone through to get back home, he wouldn’t simply let things fall apart now.

Matthew followed David around the hotel and to a side door. David knelt in front of it and Matthew followed suit. David took his pack out and carefully unzipped the front pouch, pulling out Matthew’s car keys.

“Thank goodness we didn’t lose those,” Matthew said, taking the ring and flipping through the keys to find the hotel’s skeleton key. He unlocked the side door carefully even as the hotel’s blueprint unfolded in his mind.

“What should we do?” David asked.

Matthew knew that this side door would take him to a hallway that attached to the dining room. “I think I should sneak in and then take Samuel by surprise in the lobby. I’ll disarm him and get him out of our home,” Matthew said.

“He might shoot you,” David said. “Or your mother.”

“I have to take that chance,” Matthew said.

“He’s drunk, so he’ll be distracted,” David said in a rush. “We can ambush him, wrestle the gun away from him. He won’t know we’re coming. We just have to be careful. Samuel is a wild card. We have no idea what he might do.”

“I know, Dad,” Matthew said, handing the keys back to David.

“One of us can grab him from behind, get him on the floor somehow, and the other one can take the shotgun from him,” David continued, slipping the keys back into the backpack’s front pouch.

“I like the plan, Dad, but it’s going to be a one-man operation.” Matthew smiled sadly as David’s mouth dropped open in shock.

“Absolutely not,” David said. “You’re not doing this solo.”

“I have to,” Matthew countered. “You’re weak from the infection and we can’t risk you opening up the gunshot wound again. What if you trigger another heart attack? It’s not worth the risk.”

“This is when you have to risk everything!” David hissed, trying to keep his voice down. He pointed at the door. “That’s my wife in there, treating that trespasser like a guest while he’s treating her like she’s nothing! There is absolutely no way you are leaving me behind.”

“Dad,” Matthew said, laying a hand on David’s shoulder. “You wouldn’t send a wounded man into battle, would you?”

David fell silent, biting his lip. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“You have to admit, you’re too much at risk. Not only that, but you’re a liability. I know you hate hearing that, but if I had to give up my heart of gold, you have to acknowledge your limitations.”

David made an aggravated sound. “I don’t want you going in by yourself.”

“I know, but now isn’t the time for stupid heroics. I’ll need you to figure out another plan if something happens to me. Mom and Patton can’t be left alone. You’ll have to be the one to get them out if Samuel hurts me. You might have to go into town to find help, if it comes to it.”

David looked away and studied the door, as if it might hold the answers he wanted to hear. “Fine,” he admitted. “I can see I might be more of a hindrance in this situation.”

“One time only, though,” Matthew said. “You’ll live to fight another day when you’re all healed up.”

“You better believe it,” David said. “What should I do, then? While you’re going in on your own?”

“Find Patton, I suppose. If you hear a gunshot, follow behind me. Grab Mom and Patton and get them out of here.” Matthew slipped his bag off his shoulders and opened it up, being careful that the zipper didn’t make too much noise. “Keep everyone safe.” He pulled out Jade’s .45 and checked to make sure it was ready for use. He was going to save his mother and son if it was the last thing he did.

32

With a definitive nod and a good-luck clap on the back, David pushed open the door for Matthew and Matthew slipped inside. The hotel was silent in a different way than the quiet of the outside world. There was no wind, no crunching gravel underneath his boots, no huffed breath of David beside him. Matthew crept down the short hallway to the dining room and couldn’t imagine what his mother and Patton must have gone through with Samuel. He wondered how long the jerk had been here treating his mother like garbage.

He eased around the stack of unpacked boxes that stood up against the wall. His shoes made a soft shushing sound against the carpet and then a tap-tap when the carpet turned to hardwood floors. Three plates were on the large main table. The remains of a meal. He studied them for a moment, staying as silent as possible before walking around the tables and chairs. The gun felt warm in his hands, slick with his sweat.

Again, he couldn’t understand how his world had been turned upside down in the last few days. Before, he used to think if something apocalyptic like this happened, people would band together and see through the crisis with clasped hands. He thought the world would be full of compassion and understanding. He never expected to be shot at or see a man murdered. He never thought he’d willingly steal. Yet if he hadn’t committed such a crime, his father would most likely have died.

He’d met all kinds of people on this journey, people who’d made him see different shades of gray that he never even thought existed. He hoped that many of them found their way home again. Jordan from the sporting goods store. Shawn and his turtle-loving son. He wondered what had happened to Jade after he’d run her off and knew she would always be on his mind. He would always worry that she’d return to hurt him for abandoning her.

He’d done bad things in the name of good. He’d done good things that turned around and ended up not working out. Now, he held a weapon in his inexperienced hands and didn’t think about bad or good. Instead, he pondered wrong versus right and hoped he’d be able to save his mother and son without having to fire the gun. Saving his mother was the right thing to do, but if it came to blows and he had to do violence against Samuel…well, he’d accept the consequences of his actions. Just like he did at the gas station. If it was between his mother and Samuel, Matthew would choose Ruth every time

There would be no second chances. Matthew had one shot. Even though Samuel seemed drunk, he could probably fire on Matthew without a second thought. Matthew’s element of surprise would be one-and-done. If he messed it up, he wouldn’t have another opportunity. He had no doubt that if Samuel managed to get the shotgun trained on Matthew, Matthew would be a goner.

Matthew ran through the ways to hold and shoot a gun, tips garnered from his little experience and David’s direction, but he wasn’t an expert marksman. Yet at the same time, the next few minutes would be determined by whoever was the fastest or the best shot, and Matthew wasn’t going to be the one bleeding out from a wound in front of his mother. Not today.

The sound of Samuel’s raised voice filtered through the air and reached Matthew’s ears. It oscillated between crooning and shouting. Matthew lined up against the corner before the dining room became the lobby and listened intently to what was being said.

“Give me another drink, sweetheart, that’s a good girl. Did you put up this wallpaper? Well I’ll tell you what, it looks like trash. First thing I’m gonna do is tear it down. Can’t have a hunting lodge be full of roses and daisies, now can we?”

“If you think that’s best.” Ruth’s voice sounded clipped, hiding her anger.

“You modern folk only think of changing what’s there so it looks popular. Never appreciate the hotel. Just ruin it like everything else. Good thing I took back what’s mine, innit?”

Ruth cleared her throat and Samuel seemed to take that as an agreement.

Matthew held his breath and then let it out slowly, trying to calm the thudding of his heart. Sweat beaded on his brow. He looked down at his hands and was surprised to see that they were steady. He took a quick glance around the corner.

Samuel had stood up from his previous spot on the couch. He had a bourbon bottle near his feet and the glass Ruth had brought him was nearly empty. Swaying, he pointed the gun at Ruth, who stood unflinching as if she’d become used to his behavior. She was closer to the picture windows with her hands folded in front of her. Even though her eyes were trained on the ground as if in submission, Matthew could tell by her tensed shoulders she’d had just about enough of Samuel.

Luckily, she wouldn’t be in direct danger if Matthew shot his gun. She wouldn’t get hit. He hoped. Matthew thumbed the safety off of the .45. He raised it, aiming it at Samuel. Make peace with your decision, he thought. If he didn’t do this, who knew what kind of harm Samuel would do to Matthew’s loved ones? It was them versus him and Matthew would always choose his family.

He relaxed his elbows, widened his stance, and to his surprise, his hands remained steady. For a moment, he wavered in indecision, knowing that if he shot the gun, his life might be completely changed. People might look at him differently. His mother might only see him as a murderer, despite his good intentions. Could he lose her respect to save her life?

“Gimme another,” Samuel shouted, even though a tiny amount of liquid still remained in the glass. Ruth walked over and bent down to retrieve the bottle of bourbon that was near his feet. She held it up to him. “You drank it all,” she said in a flat voice and then backed away closer to the picture windows.

Samuel shouted something incomprehensible and then Matthew finally made out what he was saying. “You’re not earning your keep. You know what I do to people who can’t earn their keep?” Samuel pointed the shotgun straight at her and hesitated for too long. Matthew knew, down in his bones, that Samuel was going to kill her.

The trigger felt stiff under Matthew’s finger, but when he finally pulled it, the recoil jolted his arms. The sound momentarily deafened him. He heard the ping of the bullet.

Ruth screamed, her hands raised to cover her ears. Samuel jumped, shock covering his face. The shotgun clattered to the floor and Matthew went cold with terror as he briefly wondered if the shotgun would go off accidentally and hit one of them.

“Where the hell did you come from?” Samuel bellowed at Matthew and shakily began to bend to retrieve the gun, as if he had double-vision and couldn’t focus enough to grab it. The smell of spilled bourbon filled the air.

Despair quickly replaced the terror inside Matthew. He’d missed. The bullet had cleaved off a portion of the wall and left a rounded hole in the wallpaper and plaster underneath. As Matthew raised the gun to take another shot, Ruth lunged forward for the shotgun, yanking it away from Samuel’s clumsy attempts to reclaim it. The weapon looked huge in her arms, but the niceties fell away and Ruth bared her teeth at Samuel. She backed up, aiming the double-barrel at the man.

“Now be a good boy,” Ruth snarled, “and get off our property, Mr. West.”

Samuel snorted at her and then broke into a full-bellied laugh when he spotted Matthew. “I’m asking again, as owner of this fine establishment, who the hell are you?” He pointed a finger at Matthew.

Matthew couldn’t believe it. The man clearly thought having two guns trained on him was nothing to worry about. It just showed how far gone he was—losing his fear to the confidence booze could give. He didn’t even know when he was in danger; his survival skills had been dulled by the drink.

“You heard her,” Matthew said. “Get out of here.”

“This is my land,” Samuel spluttered, wiping at the stain on his coveralls. He’d dropped the glass when Matthew shot at him, and spilled alcohol stained his chest. “This is my hotel.”

“If you don’t leave I’ll take another shot,” Matthew warned, and flicked the gun up and down to catch Samuel’s attention. Keep it focused on him and away from his mother.

“Like you could hit anything,” Samuel sneered, but his cheeks flushed red with anger. “This place is my inheritance. My daddy promised it to me and then you people moved in, thinking you could steal it from me.”

“Just because the power is out doesn’t mean you get to steal our property,” Matthew said, feeling his own anger heat up inside his belly. He really wanted to take Samuel out, but he knew he had to try to convince the leech to leave.

“You’re a cheat!” Samuel screamed. His eyes seemed to pop out of their sockets. Spittle flew from his mouth. Somehow, Matthew had crossed a line. “I dreamed of owning this place. And you stole it from me. You stole my inheritance from me. I’m not gonna let you take it away from me again.” He took a steady step towards Matthew, looking like a bull about to charge.

Matthew saw his life flash before his eyes. His blood roared in his ears. Even if he could shoot Samuel to save himself, he’d still be committing murder. But what if he missed? He might hurt his mother. Could he take that chance?

Ruth cocked her elbow back, holding the gun like a baseball bat. With a shriek, she slammed the double-barrel against Samuel’s skull with a sickening crunch. Samuel swayed. Ruth pulled back and widened her stance, looking like a batter up to the plate, and swung a second time. The gun collided with Samuel’s head. Blood sprayed up, coating the gun and Samuel’s temples. Samuel dropped like a stone.

Ruth let out another shriek, as if to hit him again. Matthew held up his hand. “Mom, it’s okay. You can put down the gun. He’s out.”

Ruth slumped, as if all the strength had gone out of her. Matthew put the .45 on one of the coffee tables and tentatively walked towards his mother, his arms held out. She uttered a quiet sob and dropped the gun, running towards Matthew. He enveloped her in his arms, holding her tight.

“Oh god,” she whispered. “What a horrible man. What a terrible human being.” Her shoulders shook and Matthew rubbed her back.

“I’m here now, Mom. I’m sorry you had to deal with that all on your own.” Matthew shut his eyes tight for a moment, wondering what she’d gone through, and how long Samuel had been terrorizing her. “Where’s Patton? Is he okay?”

“I managed to get him to stay in the kitchen when Samuel wanted to make redecorating notes. I told him not to come into the lobby, even if he heard something. I’m so happy to see you,” Ruth said, clinging to him. “I wondered…I’m just glad you got here in time. Where’s your father?”

“Outside or looking for Patton. Although he was supposed to come running if he heard gunshots.”

Ruth pulled back with a surprised sigh, wiping at her eyes. “He never was as good with orders as he thinks.” She turned to look at Samuel’s still form. “I guess we should see if he’s still alive.”

Matthew gave her one final squeeze before letting go. He was desperate to see his son, but he also didn’t want Patton to see Samuel in this state. He knelt next to Samuel and put two fingers against his throat. The pulse was strong, despite the puddle of blood that seeped from the bruised gash on the side of his head. He looked up at Ruth. “Still alive and kicking.”

“We better get him outside and out of our hotel,” Ruth said with a frown. “He’s not welcome, but I don’t know when he’s going to come around again. I only want to kick him out once.”

“You got it.” Matthew stood and went to the front door, opening it up. A breeze of fresh air wafted through, ushering out the awful scent of booze and Samuel’s own particular brand. Matthew noticed the frame had been shattered as if kicked in and he frowned, wondering if this was how Samuel had gotten into the hotel in the first place. With the door open wide, he knelt to pick up Samuel’s legs. Ruth stood at his head, and reached down to grab his arms. Together, they managed to heft Samuel up and half-carried, half-dragged him out the front door. Matthew grunted under the weight—the man was compact and heavy.

“Like taking out the trash,” Ruth said and Matthew snorted a laugh, grateful to be home and grateful to have saved his family.

33

Together, Matthew and Ruth staggered out of the hotel with Samuel’s limp body swinging between them. Matthew’s arms ached with the weight, and he wasn’t surprised when his mother had to pause for a rest once they made it through the doorway and out into the sunshine. As she rubbed her arms with a grimace, Matthew gripped Samuel by the legs and dragged the man over to the concrete lane leading up to the hotel. Pausing to catch his breath, he then continued to drag Samuel to a patch of grass and dirt. He dropped Samuel and stood up, stretching his arms upwards until his back popped. Sweat beaded on his brow, and he wiped it away, taking a moment to consider his next move.

Samuel groaned and began to thrash like a fish who’d realized it had just been caught. Dust clogged the gash on his head, but Matthew didn’t feel the least bit sympathetic. Ruth came up beside him and handed him the .45. Matthew held the gun loosely in one hand and squinted in the afternoon light, wondering how such a beautiful blue sky could exist on a day that had nearly ended with him killing someone.

Honestly, it still might end that way. Yet now that Samuel had been removed from the hotel, the adrenaline that had surged to protect his family—and that had driven Matthew to violence—slowly drained away, leaving him exhausted. He wasn’t sure he could point the gun at Samuel now and pull the trigger. Before, he’d had no other choice. His mother was in danger. Samuel had a shotgun pointed at her, and he had turned her into his personal servant. Samuel had tried to take their home. The list of wrongs was long, but Matthew’s golden heart—while battered and tarnished and cracked—still beat in his chest.

If Samuel lived, he might always be a threat to Matthew’s family. He might come back, try to take their home again, but that was all speculation. He might also slink home to Galena, curl up with a bottle of booze, and reflect on what insanity he had caused because of his greed. If Matthew shot him now, it took away all options. Death might be the final ending for Samuel, but it would leave a mark on Matthew. A breeze caused the grass around him to rustle. The trees swayed gently around them. Matthew flipped the safety on the gun. He wouldn’t use it unless he absolutely had to.

Samuel groaned again, this time in pain, and rolled back and forth. His eyelids cracked open, showing a sliver of fury. Finally, Samuel blinked and gasped, propping himself up on his elbow while Matthew aimed the gun at him. Matthew had a message to get across, and he wanted Samuel’s full attention.

Samuel sneered up at him. “You got the guts to use that thing? It’s not a toy. You think you can take out Samuel West?”

“We already did,” Matthew said and beside him, Ruth grinned. “You want to try us again? My mother could smack you on the head and see if that knocks any sense into you.”

“Maybe next time I’ll have to give just as good as I get,” Samuel said, glowering at Ruth. “I’ll make you pay double for what you did to me, hell I’ll make you pay tenfold, you stupid—”

“You try and return here and I will shoot you,” Matthew interrupted as Samuel’s threats to his mother brought on a new wave of anger within him. “I won’t hesitate. Maybe I should shoot you now.”

“This hotel was always meant to me mine.” Samuel spat at him and tried to stand up, but Matthew clicked the safety off and raised his eyebrows at Samuel in warning.

Samuel grimaced and sank back down to the ground. “If you don’t use that gun on me like a real man would, then I’ll just come back and take what’s mine some other time and you’ll never see it coming.”

“You won’t like what you find,” Matthew said. “I promise, next time I’ll be a much better marksman. Or should I decide to take you out now? I don’t think I’ll miss, being this close.” He took a step closer as he felt that instinct to take out the threat looking to hurt his family building inside of him again.

A scream of denial suddenly cut through the air. Chills ran down Matthew’s spine as he heard the high-pitched wail and he glanced up to see the source of the cry. In the driveway, hands up and pointed to the sky, stood a petite figure wearing a fringed jacket. “Don’t do it, Matthew!” Jade yelled, cupping one hand around her mouth and jogging toward him. “Seriously! Don’t do it! Let him go!”

Matthew snarled silently at her. The fingernail gouges along his wrists from their fight—now scabbed superficial wounds—reminded him to be careful of who to trust. “What are you doing here?” he yelled back. “Don’t you dare come any closer.” He kept the gun trained on Samuel, but at the same time, he wished he had something to defend himself against her, too. He anticipated her jumping on him and trying to wrestle the gun from him again. Could it be that she and Samuel were working together? Maybe they were both in on Samuel’s ridiculous plan to take the hotel away from Matthew and his family. How could that even be possible? Had Jade pegged them before they even met?

Jade slowed but still kept creeping closer, as if approaching a skittish horse.

Ruth put a warning hand on his shoulder and asked in a low voice, “Who is that, Matt?”

“Her name is Jade,” Matthew said through gritted teeth. “We met her while walking here. She shot Dad.”

Ruth’s face paled. “Your father’s been shot?”

“Please, Matt,” Jade pleaded, taking a tentative step closer. “I’m so sorry about everything. I followed you here, I wasn’t sure—”

“Matthew Riley, you don’t let that woman take one step closer!” David’s voice bellowed through the air, and the door to the hotel slammed back as David burst through it, walking down the stairs with anger in his eyes. Behind David, Patton lingered in the doorway, his mouth open in surprise when he saw Matthew holding Samuel at gunpoint. Ruth let out a small shriek, bolting away from Matthew to run towards her husband.

“It’s okay, Patton,” Matthew said to him as Ruth enveloped David in a hug. David wrapped his good arm around her waist, even as his eyes darted to Jade and back to Matthew. Patton looked like he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t get the words out. Matthew wanted to run to him and pull him into an embrace, but he had to deal with these lowlifes first. He couldn’t let them get the upper hand and hurt his son.

David wrapped one arm around Ruth’s waist, and they walked back towards Matthew and Jade. Tears streaked down Jade’s cheeks as she looked at David. “I’m so sorry, David, really—”

“What are you doing here?” David snarled. “What could you possibly want? To kill more people? You’re not welcome here.”

“I…” Jade swallowed hard and tried to find her voice again. Her ponytail was mussed and falling out. Streaks of dirt covered her cheeks. “I followed you from the interstate after…after Matthew ran me off. I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I tried to make up for what I did to you, David, don’t you remember? I helped you when you were sick on the road. I gave you water and some painkillers I had. I told you I was sorry for everything. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“You didn’t help me.” David tightened his arm around Ruth. “I don’t remember that.”

Jade looked to Matthew for help. “I did, I swear. You were starting to hallucinate while Matt was getting medical supplies, and so I tried to do what I could. I tried to cool you off—Matt, I promise I did—and I made you drink water and gave you some more aspirin when you looked like you were in pain.”

“Don’t lie to me,” David growled.

“I’m not lying,” Jade said, looking lost. Her chin wobbled as she tried not to sob. She kept her pleading eyes on David. “Believe it or not, I did try to take care of you. Mrs. Riley, I really did, I swear. I never wanted to hurt you, I don’t know what happened, why I acted like I did. I was just so angry at being left on my own again. I thought we were all getting to be really close, and then when you said I had to leave...I don’t know, I just lost all my senses.”

“Why would you do that?” Matthew asked softly. “After everything you did, why would you try to help us?”

Jade dug her hands into her pockets. “I know I did a lot of terrible things—things you couldn’t forgive me for.”

“You killed a man. You shot the gas station clerk in cold blood,” Matthew said, seeing the irony that he held a man at gunpoint, but he decided he wouldn’t analyze that one too much.

“I did,” Jade said, as tears cascaded down her cheeks. “It was an impulsive, terrible decision. I was scared and…I wanted to show you that I could be tough. I’ve seen some awful things being on my own, and I didn’t think it through. I’ve regretted it ever since.” She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve, and Matthew saw the agony in her expression. “I promise you, Matt, you don’t want to do what I did. If you kill that guy, you’ll never forgive yourself. He’s not armed. He doesn’t have a fighting chance. Believe me. You don’t want to deal with the consequences.”

“Why are you trying to save him?” Matthew demanded. “Do you know him?”

“I’ve never met him before in my life,” Jade said. “I swear to you. It’s not about that. It’s about sparing you what it feels like to kill someone. You don’t want that on your conscience, Matt.”

Samuel glared up at Matthew through narrowed eyes, his breathing heavy, and it seemed as if he were waiting for Matthew’s judgement, not caring either way about the verdict. A knot of concern grew in Matthew’s stomach—he couldn’t understand how anyone could be held at gunpoint and still act as if they’d done nothing wrong or as if they had nothing to lose. Samuel would never understand that he’d threatened and hurt people for his own selfish gains. Matthew shook his head. Something was wrong with Samuel—and whether it was the alcohol or the delusions of grandeur, Matthew couldn’t quite put his finger on it. All he knew was that Samuel would feel nothing if he shot Matthew or tried to beat Ruth. No compassion lay behind those detached eyes.

Jade’s words resonated with the tenderness and belief in humanity that Matthew had always tried to nurture in himself and others. While he had become wiser after everything he’d experienced on his travels, he by no means had lost his faith in people, even if he might now be more cautious about it. Grudgingly, he had to accept that Jade had a point. He would rather not have his future stained with Samuel’s blood.

“You need to leave this place and go back to Galena or wherever it is you came from and never darken our doorway again,” Matthew told Samuel, and he found himself somewhat awed at how steady his voice sounded. “Don’t test me a second time.”

For a moment, neither Matthew nor Samuel moved. Matthew wondered if Samuel would reject the notion and demand that Matthew hand over the rights to the hotel, perhaps even force Matthew to act violently once more. He felt a strange calm come over him. He knew he’d fight for what was theirs. He wouldn’t stand by and let Samuel take over. If this was a battle of wills, Matthew wouldn’t back down.

He stared at Samuel until Samuel’s mouth pursed into a thin line. Scrambling to his feet, Samuel stumbled over the dry grass away from the Riley family and towards the main road leading back down the mountain. He shot one last look over his shoulder with wild eyes. “You’ll regret this,” he shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Matthew. “You’ll regret everything. Just you wait—I’ll be back. You can’t keep a West man down, and I’ll take back what’s rightfully mine. Sleep with one eye open. Did you hear me? Did you hear me?”

Matthew lowered his arm and flicked the safety back on the gun as Samuel disappeared down the winding road. “Yeah, we hear you,” he answered under his breath. “We just don’t care.”

David clapped Matthew on the shoulder and Ruth let out a soft sob, bringing her arm around the other side of Matthew so that they stood in a group hug.

“Hey!” Patton yelled from the porch. “What about me?” He bounded down the steps and ran straight for Matthew. Matthew couldn’t help the delighted laugh that escaped from him as he bent down to wrap his arms around his son and hold him tight. Tears welled up in his eyes as he thought of Patton dealing with Samuel, and he wondered what his son had had to endure with a monster like that.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” Patton said and his arms felt wiry around Matthew. “Me and Grandma were both really worried.”

“You were worried?” Matthew laughed as relief flooded through him. “I was going out of my mind wondering if you were okay.” He kissed Patton on the top of the head.

“I’m glad you took Samuel down a peg, Dad,” Patton said as he pulled back enough to look at Matthew directly. He somehow seemed more grown-up than when Matthew had left him. “He…wasn’t a nice man.”

“No one is ever going to scare you like that again,” Matthew said and knew Patton had some alternative choice words besides “nice” to describe Samuel. Matthew couldn’t blame his son—he figured he had the same thoughts when it came to Samuel West.

Patton leaned back more and looked solemn. “You’re gonna have to teach me how to use a gun, Dad.”

“One step at a time, Patton. I just got home. I need to learn how to use it better myself.” Matthew shook his head incredulously as David swooped down to engulf Patton in a bear-hug.

“Did you take care of your grandma while I was gone?” David asked.

“Ahh, Grandpa you’re suffocating me, of course I did, of course!”

Matthew stood and hugged his mother, then grew somber. “Have you heard from Kathleen?” he asked.

Ruth shook her head. “Nothing from either her or Allison.”

Despair filled Matthew as he thought about his wife and daughter, who knows where on the road. “We didn’t see them at all coming up here,” he said quietly.

Ruth tried to smile, but it looked wobbly at best. “They’ll come home, Matt. We both know your wife. She’s as stubborn as a bull. They’ll be here soon, I bet you anything.”

Matthew nodded and took the assurance for what it was. He turned to see Jade watching the reunion with a wistful look. She fingered the fringe of her jacket, and he noticed that some of the pieces had been ripped and torn off, leaving the jacket looking exceedingly ragged. She gave him a small smile, but still looked as though she, too, awaited judgement. Perhaps acceptance. He remembered what she’d said to them before turning on them. You’re just like everyone else I’ve ever met. Underwhelming.

Matthew sighed. Maybe, in this one case, he could give Jade a second chance. It might be the one thing that differentiated him from all the other people in her life, despite the risk of her turning on him and his family. He briefly looked at David, who raised an eyebrow, as if waiting for Matthew’s decision. Matthew gestured to her towards the hotel. “I supposed you should join us inside. Tell us the rest of your side of the story.”

Jade’s lips parted in a bright, genuine smile. Tears glimmered in her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered as the Riley clan turned back towards home, ready for whatever was to come next.

34

“How much longer?” Allison asked, shooting Kathleen her usual grin over her shoulder.

“Three miles,” Kathleen said, unable to hide the excitement in her voice. The stress and fear from their earlier encounter with Andrew and his gang had melted away—slowly, like ice on a cold day, but melting all the same. Allison’s smile had thawed from terrified and cautious back to easy-going, which was a relief to Kathleen. Ever since they’d passed Galena’s welcome sign, Kathleen had begun to relax and hope by counting everything she could: the passing minutes, her pedal rotations, and her own personal landmarks that let her know how close they were to the hotel. Ever since they began to climb the mountain road leading up towards their home, she’d allowed that hope to grow roots and settle. Without a doubt, they would make it home.

The road here was relatively empty of people and cars, which gave them both the freedom to swerve their bikes side-to-side or to ride in the middle of the lane without a care in the world. The rest of Galena had been in the same state as Chicago, with abandoned cars ditched on the side of the road or left in the middle of the asphalt. People seemed to be hunkering down and preparing for the worst—although Kathleen didn’t know how anything could get worse. She thought of what Rhonda had said about cyber-attacks, and she pedaled faster up the hill. The burn in her thighs was a small price to pay to get home that much faster.

When they’d passed the sharp switchback marked by the twisted tree standing out from all the others, she’d called out to Allison, “Five miles!”

When they’d passed the break in the trees where a small wildflower-filled meadow lay before being swallowed up again by the dense trees, she’d cried out, “Four miles!”

Allison rolled her eyes at Kathleen. “You’re so dramatic, Mom.”

Kathleen felt like she was soaring.

Up until now, the ride hadn’t been easy. After Kathleen had killed Andrew on the side of the road, she and Allison had flipped back and forth between confused anger and fear, to relief that they had made it out of the situation in one piece and relatively unharmed. Allison’s weeping had faded away to sullen silence and then to outrage when Kathleen tried to explain her actions. Kathleen responded at first with deep feelings of betrayal, as if Allison wasn’t on her side, and then became terrified Allison might disown her for what had happened, but finally settled on a melancholic acceptance. She couldn’t change the past. Her actions would haunt her. Her soft-hearted daughter might feel some kind of awed fear towards her. She’d seen Kathleen shoot someone, after all—even if that person had been threatening them and putting Allison in direct danger. Kathleen couldn’t control Allison’s feelings. She could only hope that Allison would still love her after everything they’d been through. She hoped Allison would continue to see her as a nurturing person and that their relationship and history would win over violence that, while it had lasted minutes at most, had damaged them both.

But oh, they were so close to home Kathleen could taste it. Even better, it felt as if she and Allison were stepping back into their old mother-daughter groove. They no longer screamed or yelled at each other, no longer offered soft apologies or tearful explanations and reasonings. It was as though a weight had been lifted off of them. Kathleen couldn’t wait to ride to the hotel’s front door and see Patton fling the door open and leap into her arms. She wanted to plant a fat, wet kiss on Matthew and hold the rest of her family close. She wanted to erase everything that had happened and go back to how things were before. She dreamed that it could be so.

The three-mile landmark was a gentle slope in the road followed by a secondary switchback before the climb really began. Kathleen breathed heavily as she pedaled hard and then coasted down the slope. Her eyebrows drew together in new concern when she saw a white delivery van parked on the side of the road.

The back doors were flung open. Motorcycles surrounded it, shining black, some with red-painted flames. A few were parked in the middle of the road, effectively blocking anyone or anything from getting by. Some men leaned against their handlebars. The muted murmur of their conversation filled the air. Allison slowed down and looked at Kathleen in alarm. Kathleen slowed down too, and realized they couldn’t continue to coast as far as they could up the hill. The mountain road had already begun to incline steeply and slowing any further would bring them to a complete standstill. Plus, she couldn’t exactly scoot around the motorcycle gang without dismounting her bike as it was.

A tattooed man stepped out of the back of the van with a head of lettuce between his hands. Bouncing on the van’s bumper, he held the lettuce over his head and smashed the produce against the ground. As the lettuce head split in half and began to roll down the hill, he roared with laughter. The rest of the gang echoed him.

“Mom?” Allison asked in a low voice as both she and Kathleen came to a complete stop. “What should we do?”

“Not much we can do,” Kathleen said under her breath as she dismounted. She hesitated and briefly wondered if they should risk abandoning their bikes and veer into the woods to hide. At the same time, her hands gripped her handlebars. The bikes were a treasure in this world that had been turned upside down. It seemed like a terrible idea to drop them when they’d needed them so much on their journey. They should keep them at all costs unless it became necessary to get rid of them.

Rhonda’s warnings echoed in her mind. Stay away from enclosed spaces. Stay away from crowds.

Kathleen had learned one lesson the hard way on her journey: don’t trust anyone.

She pulled up close to Allison and took a couple of deep breaths to calm her thundering heart. Her lungs burned from the trek, and she knew her cheeks were bright red from exertion. “We should try to get around them without instigating any problems,” she said. “We’ll just act confident and walk around them as much as we can. They have no reason to want to engage with us.”

“Where’s the gun?” Allison asked in a low voice, tilting her head closer to Kathleen.

Kathleen wanted to cry, but cleared her throat instead. She hated that her daughter’s first reaction was to wonder about their safety and ask about the weapon Kathleen had used to protect them. “In the holster around my waist, still.”

“Good,” Allison said.

Kathleen looked at her with incredulity. “I promise I won’t hurt anyone.”

“If you have to, you should.” Allison glanced at her mother, and Kathleen saw the glimpse of a much-older Allison who’d been hardened by experience and was practical down to her roots. A wave of unexpected relief flowed through Kathleen. Finally, it felt as if they were in this together and that Allison had her back as a partner and not just as her daughter.

Even so, Allison was still Kathleen’s child, and Rhonda’s other warning rang through her mind. Protect your daughter at all costs.

“If this looks like it will turn into another situation like before,” Kathleen said, “I want you to run into the woods.”

“I’m not going to abandon you with a group of hostile bikers,” Allison snapped. “I won’t let someone put their hands on me or you like that again.”

“That’s not…” Kathleen’s throat felt parched. Her braid lay in a sweaty tangle over her shoulder. Did Allison see herself as weak for not fighting Andrew and his men more? Was her silence and crying not because she’d seen Kathleen murder someone, but because she herself felt like she should’ve done more? Kathleen put her hand on Allison’s arm. “Honey, you were in a terrible situation. You did everything you could.”

Allison tilted her chin up as if holding back tears. “Not such a great time to talk about our feelings, Mom.”

“Then promise me if things get bad here, you’ll run into the woods. I don’t want to have to worry about you. The hotel is a mile or two north of us. All you have to do is keep climbing upwards. This is the only road to the hotel, so you can follow it from the woods to get back home.” Kathleen’s legs shook with a sudden weakness now that her garden of hope had been dug up and scorched. She didn’t want to be separated, but she had to keep Allison safe. At all costs. “Promise me,” she said and this time even she could hear the steel in her tone.

“I’m not going to do that,” Allison said with a note of finality.

“You have to. Once you get to the hotel, you can find help. Hopefully your father is already there. Then you can come back for me, okay? Allison, promise me.”

Allison frowned, her blue eyes narrowing as she studied the biker gang. The gang had noticed them now and began nudging each other and peering in Kathleen’s direction. Once more, Kathleen felt like a mouse in the claws of a particularly gleeful cat. “Promise me,” Kathleen hissed.

Allison considered her for a moment, but finally gave her one quick nod.

“Good,” Kathleen said and tightened her hands around her handlebars. She held her head up high. “Never forget that I love you. Now, let’s see what new trouble is in store for us.”

35

The prison was unnaturally quiet.

Max sat on the edge of his bunk as the electricity went out, his hands tightly clasped in front of him to hide his trembling. It was still seen as weakness to show any kind of emotion. The light from the elongated, beveled window next to him let in the mid-morning sun, giving him a glimpse of the blue sky just out of his reach. The power had been unreliable since Kathleen’s visit. He’d lost count of how many times the lights had flickered and gone out. Whenever they did, he imagined the generators whirring to create electricity for them and wondered what would happen if the generators died and the lights stayed out. He never had to find out, though. The lights would always sputter back on. The guards would let out a collective sigh of relief and would remove their hands from the hilts of their beat sticks.

A guard rattled a ring of keys, opened up Max’s cell, and motioned Max out with a small, if tired-looking, smile of hello. It was his cellblock’s recreation hour. The guard hadn’t been a friend by any means, but he had had a certain responsibility for Max’s protection. Max, the singing bird. Max, the betrayer. Max, the drug mule who’d broken the trust of some very dangerous men by listing off other mules responsible for transporting cocaine across country borders. Max, who had given these up in exchange for a reduced sentence. Max, who told the police details about the route and the checkpoints. Max, who had a target painted on his back from day one in prison.

Max eased past the bars and looked around him to see if anyone new had been admitted to their block. His eyes flickered over the familiar faces, and the knot in his stomach didn’t loosen. No one new had joined, but that didn’t mean that he could let his guard down. He had to be aware of everything around him at all times.

The guards had had to move Max from his original cellblock when he was first brought into the prison because one of the inmates had threatened his life. Some guy Max had never seen before had caught him coming out of the bathroom, shoved a shiv close to his eye, and promised Max he’d make him mute so he wouldn’t be able to sing anymore. Max had requested a transfer that was quickly granted, but he knew inmates within the prison were out to get him. There were way too many people in this prison who wanted him to suffer for what he’d done.

Trying to act bored, he got in line and followed the guard out and up to the triangular rooftop recreation yard. Max breathed in deep and found himself grateful for the fresh air. A basketball court sat ready at one side, and some of the inmates grabbed a ball to start a game. No one asked Max to join and he didn’t ask. It was better for him to stay away and not make friends. Friends could turn on him, given the right incentive. He glanced up into the sky. All at once, he felt closer to the sun than he ever had before, and yet still so isolated from everything he’d once known. Crossing his arms, he began to walk a loop around the recreation yard’s perimeter. A breeze fluttered by and he shivered. Goosebumps ran down his arms. He listened for the familiar sounds of traffic that usually came up from the streets below, surrounding the prison. Being in the middle of Chicago meant that he’d become used to the background tones of cars speeding to their next destination. He’d become used to the honk of horns and the squeal of wheels to accompany the cawing crows and cooing pigeons who liked to perch on the barbed wire and watch the inmates exercise. He cocked his head to the side, but he heard only an eerie silence. It was as though all the traffic had stopped.

Frowning, he calmly walked past the concrete wall and peered out the barred gate that looked down over the city. He could see cars down below, but for some reason, everything had come to a stop. Some cars were parked in the middle of the street. Maybe there was a parade planned? Maybe street cleaning? It seemed odd that everything around the prison seemed to be frozen in time.

Max took a couple of steadying breaths, and he tried to find some semblance of control. He had no idea what had happened after Kathleen visited, only that he got the sense that the prison had begun to descend slowly into disarray. The guards seemed frazzled as if overworked. Max didn’t want to find out what would happen if things got more chaotic. The prison was a world different from everything he’d known before, but it revolved around the idea of who was the toughest. It was a world of packs, and it was dangerous to be a lone wolf. Max had done worse than decide to be alone. He had betrayed his pack that had wanted to bring him into their fold with promises that if he brought in enough cocaine, he’d be a very rich and very happy man. For Max, it was easy wealth. With his good looks, no one ever told him no. He’d been Max Patterson, the golden child wherever he went.

He never expected to be arrested. He never expected to be sitting beside a court-appointed lawyer who’d seemed more focused on her next case than his. He never expected to have to listen to a list of charges with this trapped feeling growing bigger inside of him with every passing moment. He didn’t realize that he’d joined a pack that didn’t care about him, only what he could do for them. He remembered how he’d tried to give the detective a tentative smile and show her his soft side. He’d wanted to convince her that he was just a stupid man in the wrong place, wrong time. That he didn’t deserve to go to prison. He remembered how she’d glared at him and kept asking if he understood the trouble he was in right now.

He’d taken her deal. He’d rather spend less time in prison than sell half of his life to a gang full of high-stakes members who only saw him as a pawn that had gotten caught. But in doing so, he’d made terrible enemies. And friends of those enemies stalked the prison hallways with his name on their lips and handmade knives in their hands, prepared to make him suffer for singing.

He shut his eyes for a moment. Get ready for your welcome home surprise. That was what the man who’d attacked him when he’d first arrived had whispered. The words haunted Max. He knew he wouldn’t be able to survive in here for much longer. That wouldn’t be the first attack and he was just waiting for another one to come his way.

He looked back over his shoulder. The group that was playing basketball laughed when one of the inmates missed a shot. Beyond them, a smaller group of men seemed to be watching the players intently. Max knew better. He remembered how one of them had looked at him when Kathleen had visited. The way they sized him up before taking note of his sister and his niece. They now knew he had family. Family could be leveraged. Max stared back at them. Daring them. Trying to show he wasn’t scared, even though his hands continued to tremble.

They’re coming for you. Soon.

End of Erupting Trouble

EMP Catastrophe Book One

Blurb

The lights are out for good…

After an EMP knocked out power around the globe, Matthew Riley and his family are finding their way to survive while realization of their dangerous new reality sinks in. It was a struggle to reunite in the immediate aftermath, but the fallout from the dangerous journey may be even worse.

Other desperate souls are converging on any place that might offer hope, and the Rileys’ hotel in Galena, Illinois, is a prime target. With food running short and medicine almost out, the Rileys will need to find supplies. But they’re not the only ones looking.

While the family works together at the hotel, Matthew’s brother-in-law, Max, works to escape from prison to reunite with his family and the relative safety they offer. But dangerous enemies have their eyes on him and may put everyone at risk.

With resources running out, family is the only bond that can be counted on. But those bonds are strained and frayed as the tensions of the new world begin to pull them apart. How can one family survive when the world has turned upside down?

1

Stay away from enclosed spaces. Stay away from crowds. Protect your daughter at all costs.

Kathleen repeated those few lines in her head like a mantra as she studied the biker gang clogging the mountain road in front of them. There were perhaps ten of them. Many of them wore bandanas and leather. Some were about her age. While a couple of older-looking members perched on their bikes, several that appeared to be newcomers milled around the road with restless energy.

Already, she could feel her hackles rising as she studied the bikers. She yanked Allison behind her and over to the side of the road. Her daughter uttered a soft huff but fell back behind her. They weren’t off the road completely, but they were at least not in the bikers’ direct line of sight. It wouldn’t do much, Kathleen knew, but she hoped she and Allison could stick to the side of the road and maybe even get by with their bicycles without so much as a hello. At this point, she knew they wouldn’t be able to get by unseen.

A white van had been abandoned on the side of the road, its back doors hanging open. A tattooed man stood on the bumper with a head of cabbage and other produce smashed under him on the pavement. He dove back inside the van and pulled out more produce while the rest of the bikers laughed at his theatrics. Kathleen gritted her teeth. Not only were these people blocking the road, it looked as if they were stealing from the van as well and smashing food that could have fed others who might be hungry. She understood taking food that was needed for survival, but this looked as though they were ruining good produce for the fun of it. Was there any decency left?

This time the tattooed man handed bundles of carrots and a mesh bag full of melons to another biker. This man had a lot more patches and dangling fringe on his leather jacket than the others, making Kathleen wonder if he was the leader of this crew. The patched-leather man took the produce and handed it to another biker who secured it in a large travel bag attached to the bike. Kathleen couldn’t understand why the tattooed man would have thrown perfectly good lettuce against the pavement and then selectively saved this produce, but she’d been met with a lot of actions she couldn’t understand since leaving Chicago.

“Just act like we’re passing these people on the street,” she muttered, more to herself than Allison. “If they notice us, we’ll wave hi and keep going. Easy peasy.”

Even she knew these promises were lies. She couldn’t help but feel on edge and studied every move the group made. Most of their attention remained fixed on the tattooed man raiding the van as if eager to see what else he would bring out for them.

They had to be about a mile from the hotel. Just one mile from home. It felt so close and yet so far at the same time. Kathleen tossed her dark braid over her shoulder and began slowly walking her bicycle up the road with Allison close behind her. As she approached the bikers, she averted her eyes, hoping they would melt into the background, like a squirrel or a deer just passing by. It was unfortunate that they were forced to go around one end of the van to keep their bikes and stay on somewhat level ground. On the other side of the road, the mountain sloped sharply upwards and had been barricaded by a guardrail, giving them little space to pass by undetected.

The trees swayed around them. The crisp mountain air filled her lungs. She pushed her bike off the asphalt and onto the shoulder, which was filled with sharp sticks and fallen pinecones. The tattooed man disappeared into the van again and then brought out another haul of food to hand to another of his biker friends. He sniffed a head of cabbage and made a face. The cabbage head hit the pavement and splintered open.

As Kathleen and Allison drew closer, some of the bikers began to study them. Kathleen swallowed hard and tried to keep her eyes averted and to seem as unassuming as possible. If this were any other situation, she would have given them a wave and a friendly smile. She would have hoped they were having a good day and that they got to their next destination safely. But those days seemed like eons ago. Those niceties belonged to a time when her daughter hadn’t been manhandled by another gang on the side of the road. In the days when she hadn’t shot that man who’d hurt Allison. In the days when Kathleen wasn’t a... She couldn’t think it.

Some of the bikers whispered to each other as she and Allison approached. A strange anticipatory silence descended over them. The tattooed man handed off the last of the produce he’d gathered and then stood on the bumper again with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed at her. Kathleen refused to glance back at Allison, and instead kept going with slow, steady steps.

In response, two men and a woman pressed their backs against the van and crossed their arms as if guarding it. The man with the patched leather jacket glared at her and put one hand on the side of the van, as if he owned it.

Kathleen tried to stop her own snarl in response. She resented the fact that these people were making her feel like a wild animal. What was the point of threatening her when they outnumbered her? The only reason was to make them feel strong and her weak. She began to rethink the situation and what she should have done—hide in the woods, abandon the bikes, wait until the bikers left—but she was tired of obstacles standing between her and safety.

The tattooed man on the bumper took a deep breath and shouted, “Find your own haul, lady.”

A sudden cold swept through Kathleen. She felt frozen in place. It wasn’t that his command had shocked her. At this point, she was used to the violence of strangers. Instead, the cold seemed to freeze her higher thinking, giving her hands agency of their own.

The memory of Andrew Lang loomed in front of her. She’d tried to be the mediator. She’d tried to take the high road, placate him, and hope his better nature would win out. Instead, a man in Andrew’s crew pawed at her terrified daughter while Kathleen tried to play nice. That interaction had ended with Andrew dying on the ground with a gunshot wound to the neck.

While the…murder had been ghastly, what terrified her more was the fear in Allison’s eyes. She wouldn’t let that happen again. Not this time. Not ever.

She reached behind her back. As soon as she felt the ridged grip of the handgun, it seemed to galvanize her. She whipped out the weapon and pointed it at the tattooed man, while steadying her bike with the other hand. Beside her, Allison came to a stop, and Kathleen heard her daughter’s sharp exhale.

“Whoa, I didn’t mean to scare you, lady,” the tattooed man said, and his face melted from suspicious to pleading. “Nothing here is worth dying over. Put the gun down. We’re not going to hurt you.”

“Find my own haul?” Kathleen asked and felt Allison reach out to take the bike from her, freeing her hand. “You’re the one robbing the van. Do you have the driver tied up somewhere?”

“We’re just looking for supplies,” the leader with the patched jacket interjected. He held up his hands, palms out. He wore fingerless leather gloves. He took a step forward, and Kathleen swung the gun to point at him.

“Really?” Kathleen asked and motioned the gun to the head of cabbage that had been crushed on the asphalt. “Is this what you call that?”

“It was rotten,” the leader continued. His voice was soft and lulling, as if trying to woo her into a false sense of security. “You can see for yourself. We shouldn’t have made such a mess. Just having some dumb fun.”

“It’s not so fun now, is it?” Kathleen growled. “I can only imagine what else you’d consider fun.”

She thought of Andrew choking on his own blood. Andrew, who had thought it would be fun to backhand her and steal her things. Andrew, who had thought it would be fun to hurt Allison.

Her hands began to tremble, and she tried to steady them.

“I promise you,” the leader said calmly. “We won’t hurt you. We’re not trying to hurt anyone. This van was abandoned when we found it.”

Kathleen hesitated. With many cars not working, it would make sense that this van might have been abandoned. Maybe he was telling the truth.

Another man wearing a red paisley bandana shifted and took a step back. Kathleen caught his movement in her peripheral vision and saw his hand move toward his belt. That same cold rush of terror flowed through her. Without a second thought, she swung the handgun barrel to point at this new threat.

She should have known. While the leader was spewing a bunch of crap about how they meant no harm, one of their members was getting ready to reach for the gun strapped to his waistband. Kathleen mentally slapped herself. After everything they’d been through, she shouldn’t hesitate anymore. The bandana man’s hand rested on his holster and stilled when he realized the gun was pointed at him.

“Give that to me,” she demanded and held out her other hand.

The man with the paisley bandana glanced between her and the leader. The leader nodded to him reluctantly.

“Give it to me,” Kathleen repeated, this time just a touch louder. “Slowly. If you aim that gun at me or my daughter, it will be the last thing you ever do in this life.”

The paisley man looked startled by her threat and carefully slipped the gun out of its holster. He extended it limply toward Kathleen’s outstretched hand. She snatched it from him and then turned her gun back to the leader. “Not going to hurt me, huh?” she asked. “What do you call that?”

“We were just looking for food and supplies before your crazy turned up,” the man with the tattoo said, sounding angry. “You’re acting insane. Can you blame us for trying to defend ourselves?”

Kathleen gritted her teeth again and glared at the tattooed man. She wanted to trust him, but she’d learned that kindness couldn’t be counted on. She needed to keep her guard up.

She studied the bikers. They watched her attentively. They didn’t have any water bottles or many packs strapped to their bikes that she could see. They had no reason to become so protective of the van unless they were hiding something in it. There was no reason for them to claim they were looking for supplies and yet have limited ways to carry them.

Realization dawned on her as though she’d been thumped on the head. Of course. They were most likely planning to raid the hotel where Kathleen’s family would be. Why else would they be so far up the mountain and so close to the hotel? They probably thought this van was the first prize waiting for them.

She couldn’t let them get to the hotel. Yet, at the same time, she couldn’t let them hurt Allison. She was outnumbered. There was only one thing left to do to protect them both.

“Allison?” She said her daughter’s name softly.

“Yeah?” Allison responded. She sounded breathy, as though her own fear had stolen her voice.

“Remember what we discussed earlier?” Kathleen asked.

“I won’t leave you, Mom.”

“You promised you would. You promised. Now is that time. Get out of here.”

There was a moment when she thought Allison might disobey her. But thankfully, she heard the clatter of the bike falling to the ground and the sudden crunch of gravel as Allison shot past Kathleen and began running up the mountain road away from the bikers and Kathleen. Toward the River Rock Hotel. Toward family and help.

“You all need to turn around and head back to Galena,” Kathleen said to the leader. “There’s nothing here for you. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

The leader looked exasperated. His hands trembled from being held up for so long. “I promise you. We’re just here to get some food. We have friends and family to look out for that need these supplies. I know it looks bad, but honestly, Jack wasn’t going to hurt you or your daughter. We wouldn’t do that. He was just defending us.”

I can’t be sure of that, Kathleen thought. “Why would you be this far up the mountain, anyway? Why weren’t you down at the grocery store? Who comes all the way up the mountain looking for supplies?”

The leader went quiet. Distress was painted on his face. “The grocery stores have already been cleaned out. I swear to you. We weren’t going to do anything.”

“You know about the hotel,” Kathleen hissed. “You’re trying to raid my home.”

“No, we aren’t—”

“Shut up,” Kathleen said, taking a step back even as the gun remained steady in her hands. “First you steal from this van. Then you pull a gun on me. And now you’re telling me that you’re just out here for a nice ride through the mountains?”

The man’s face seemed to fall.

“I know you’re trying to get to the River Rock Hotel,” Kathleen said, and she curled her hand around the trigger. “I know you’re here to try to hurt my family. If you don’t leave, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe.”

“Listen, I swear to you—”

“Don’t swear to me. Turn around and leave.”

Only, the bikers didn’t leave. The leader put his hands down, and the rest of the gang closed in around him and faced Kathleen with stonewall expressions. Kathleen pursed her lips. She was severely outnumbered, but she’d do whatever it took to keep her family and her home safe.

2

Matthew put his arm around Patton and hugged him closer. With a relieved sigh, he looked over his shoulder and thought about what had just happened. He’d had Samuel West held at gunpoint on the ground. The man had tried to take over their home, and Matthew had barely managed to kick him out.

He couldn’t believe that he and his father had walked all the way from Madison to Galena. The fact that they’d finally made it home hadn’t quite sunk in yet. Neither had the feeling that they were safe, but hope still swelled within him. Things he once thought impossible had actually become possible. He listened to the birds chirping and the rustling of leaves overhead and…screaming?

Was that screaming?

He paused and listened hard. He heard it again. A high-pitched shriek. He turned to his father with wide eyes and asked, “Do you hear that?”

Concern crossed David’s face, and he cocked his head to the side as if trying to hear better. Ruth, Patton, and Jade all went quiet as they listened for the shouting. “It’s getting louder,” Patton whispered.

Matthew squeezed his son’s shoulder and then stepped off the front porch. He still held the shotgun tight in his other hand. He lingered on the steps, peering into the road that led down the mountain.

“—ad! Dad! Help me! Dad!”

The screaming got closer. Matthew’s heart leapt in his throat as a lanky teenager burst around the corner and ran for the hotel. He’d recognize that wild blonde hair anywhere. Allison ran as though she had wolves chasing her. One of her hands was up in the air and waving frantically.

“It’s Allison,” Ruth said breathlessly from behind Matthew.

“Allison!” Matthew cried out. He bolted toward his daughter. He didn’t know what had happened, but Allison wouldn’t be screaming for him unless something was terribly wrong. He also didn’t want to ask why she was alone.

He met Allison in the middle. She leapt into his arms and he enveloped her in a huge hug. Tears streamed down from her red-rimmed eyes. She wheezed for breath, and Matthew finally had to release her. But when he saw the fear on her face, Matthew’s own dread ignited inside his stomach. “What’s wrong?” he asked as she tried to catch her breath. “Allison, honey, tell me what’s wrong.”

Allison gasped for air and pointed back the way she’d come. “There’s some guys…with guns…”

“Where’s your mother?” Matthew demanded, hating that he sounded as if he were angry. He gripped her shoulder. “Allison, tell me where your mother is.”

If something happened to Kathleen…

“There was a van with food and supplies in it,” Allison panted and coughed. “These bikers were raiding it. One pointed a gun at Mom. She told me to run and get help. Dad, I’m so sorry, but that’s what she told me to do!”

“Are you okay?” Matthew demanded.

“I’m fine, but Dad, I left Mom with them. They’re a mile down the road. Who knows what could have happened!” Allison’s face was marked with distress.

“I’ll get her. Stay here,” Matthew said and gripped the shotgun tighter.

Allison nodded weakly and braced her hands on her knees. “Dad, be careful.”

Matthew didn’t stick around to hear anything else. Adrenaline surged within him. His wife was in grave danger. She needed help. She needed him. He ran, and it felt as though his feet flew over the road. Far too soon, his thighs burned with the exertion, and he tasted metal in the back of his throat. His lungs ached. He might have walked all the way from Madison, but he wasn’t used to full-on sprinting. Only the thought of Kathleen kept him going. At this point, Matthew knew all too well what awful things could happen. What awful things people who were pushed could do if their survival depended on it. It made him feel sick.

Matthew’s sweat coated the smooth handle of the shotgun. He kept it close and propped it up under his arm as he rounded a corner and the white delivery van came into view. Allison wasn’t wrong. A group of bikers stood close to it in a semi-circle. He could make out Kathleen in a heated argument with another member of the group, a man with a leather jacket decorated with a lot of patches. Relief zinged through him seeing that his wife was still standing and for the most part unharmed.

The rest of the bikers were focused on their argument. For a moment, Matthew caught sight of a gun in Kathleen’s hands. Matthew slowed and planned to approach carefully, but then he spotted a member wearing a paisley bandana slip his hand into his back jean pocket. He pulled out a switchblade, and flipped the blade out discreetly behind his back. Panic rushed through Matthew. The man widened his stance. His gaze seemed fixated on Kathleen.

Matthew didn’t have time to think. His wife’s life was in danger. He came to a stop and pulled the shotgun up to his shoulder. He aimed at the man and pulled the trigger.

The shot seemed to echo over the mountain like thunder. Matthew momentarily lost his hearing, though it soon came back with a low whine. He heard screaming. The man dropped the knife to clutch at his shoulder as he fell to his knees. Blood seeped from between his fingers. Matthew flipped the safety on and ran toward the man to make sure he couldn’t get the knife back again.

The man with the paisley bandana reached for the weapon and cried out in surprise when Matthew kicked the knife away from him. That cry of surprise quickly turned to one of pain as Matthew stomped on the man’s fingers. The man clutched his fingers under one arm and stared at Matthew with a mix of rage and hatred. Other members of the biker gang lunged for their fallen friend and pulled him to safety, surrounding him as though they could be a protective wall.

The man with the leather jacket that Kathleen had been arguing with looked shocked and horrified. “Don’t shoot us. Christ, please, stop shooting! We haven’t done anything wrong!” he yelled.

“Kathleen, come here,” Matthew said. Kathleen looked dazed, but inched closer to Matthew and away from the bikers. He glanced at her and felt his heart sink. He couldn’t believe how pale she looked. Was it because he’d shot someone? Her eyes seemed wide and focused only on the leader of the biker gang. Her handgun looked steady in her hands.

“We weren’t hurting anyone,” the man in the leather jacket said. Matthew began to sense the stirrings of rage behind his fear. “We were just trying to get some food and supplies when this crazy woman started waving a gun at us. I swear to you, we didn’t mean any harm, just don’t hurt us—”

“Shut up,” Matthew said. He felt like the situation was spiraling out of his control. “You don’t need to say anything else.”

One of the women who were bent over the man Matthew shot stood up. “We don’t want anything from you except to be let go peacefully,” she said and gestured to the vehicle. “If you want it so bad, you can keep it. Just let us go. Take it and you’ll never see us again.”

Matthew looked to Kathleen to see if she had anything to say. Dark circles dulled the skin underneath her eyes. Her face had an unnatural sickly pallor to it as if she had a fever. She looked unwell. Matthew knew he had to get his wife out of this situation and somewhere safe. He took a deep breath and nodded to the woman. “Agreed,” he said, keeping the shotgun leveled at the bikers.

For a moment, he could see how he and Kathleen looked to the bikers, as though they were the threat, holding these bikers at gunpoint. Yet he knew that they were simply defending themselves. These people were strangers, and he was very familiar now with the kinds of actions strangers would take to get what they wanted. He couldn’t trust anyone but his family. “Get out of here,” he said.

The bikers clambered onto their bikes and helped the man Matthew had shot onto one of the vehicles. The leader of the group pursed his lips and then stepped forward. “I’d like to have our gun back, please. It’s the only thing we have left to defend ourselves with.”

Matthew narrowed his eyes. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Kathleen bite her lip. Matthew shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. No.”

Matthew wondered if the gun he wanted was the one Kathleen held. At the same time, he didn’t want to hand the biker a weapon only to have him turn that gun on him and his wife. He didn’t want to give the leader any sort of advantage. If Kathleen gave back the weapon, there was a good chance he’d turn on Matthew and shoot him right back. He remembered Jade and how quickly she had turned on him when things didn’t go her way. “We’ll be keeping the weapon, thank you very much,” Matthew said.

The leader looked frustrated and opened his mouth as if to argue. “We’ll need it. It’s dangerous out here. We need to have some way to protect ourselves.”

“I’m sorry, but no,” Matthew said.

The leader muttered something under his breath and shot Kathleen a nasty look. He eased away from them and hopped on his bike. Others threw equally hostile glances over their shoulders and shouted at Kathleen and Matthew before taking off to ride back down the mountain toward Galena.

As soon as they were around the corner and out of sight, Matthew lowered his shotgun. He turned to Kathleen and enveloped her in his arms. She felt small, and she couldn’t stop trembling. She seemed to not register the hug, and so Matthew hung onto her until she uttered a soft bewildered sob. Her arms slowly rose and went around him before clinging to him tightly.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” Matthew murmured into her hair. He hoped his presence would help calm her or alleviate whatever shock she was in.

“I’m okay,” she whispered through her tears. “Did Allison find you?”

“Yes, she’s safe at the hotel,” Matthew said and pulled back just enough to be able to look into her big brown eyes.

“Patton?” she asked.

“Safe. Everyone is safe back at the hotel,” Matthew said and brushed a couple of stray strands of hair behind her ear. He couldn’t help himself and leaned closer, giving her a closed-mouth kiss. “I was so worried about you,” he said.

Kathleen let out a tearful laugh. “Worried about me? I was terrified something had happened to you!”

“At least we’re together now,” Matthew said, bringing her back into a hug. When he released her, she wiped her eyes and bent down to grab two mountain bikes. Matthew took the second one from her, and together they began to walk up the mountain toward the hotel.

“I had to walk all the way from Madison,” he said dramatically, and Kathleen seemed to come back alive as he told her about his travels and they headed home.

3

The guards hauled Max into the medical bay and handed him off to the hazel-eyed nurse on call. Max blurrily read her name tag as she hoisted him up onto an examination table: Sheila.

Sheila shone a light into his eyes and asked him to follow it. He groaned and clutched his sides in pain. He felt as though every inch of him was covered in bruises. Sheila continued to ask him a series of questions as she poked and prodded him. Does it hurt to breathe? Can you move your arms? If I press here how much does it hurt on a scale of one to ten? He answered in a daze before she declared him to have severely bruised ribs, two black eyes, and that he was one more face-punch away from a concussion.

“Thanks,” he said as she handed him a set of painkillers.

Sheila studied him to make sure he swallowed them and then noted something on her chart. “Eric will be here soon to take you back to your cell.”

“Is that wise?” Max asked and tried to laugh but ended up uttering a huff of pain instead. “Don’t want to go back if I don’t have to.”

Sheila paused and brushed a strand of black hair back from her face. “Who did this to you?” she asked softly. “What happened to you?”

Max tried to smile this time and felt grateful that none of his teeth had been knocked out. “I ran into a door,” he said.

She didn’t smile in return. “You should report this. I should report this. It’s much worse than the last time you ended up in here.”

“Oh, I’m sorry I forgot that we had met before.” He’d meant it to come off as flirtatious, but against his will, Max’s smile faltered. Sheila shrugged and moved to buzz Eric in. She gave the guard a genuine smile and asked, “How is Robbie?”

Eric nodded his head in appreciation. “Much better, thank you for asking. We took him to the pediatrician you recommended. I really like them. Down to earth.”

“I’m so happy to hear it.” Sheila beamed.

Max sighed and tried to drown out the chit-chat. He didn’t want to hear about Eric’s kids or about how they went to a baseball game earlier that week. It all sounded so…normal. And for Max, his life had definitely transformed into something unrecognizable. When Sheila and Eric moved on to talking about summer plans, Max felt like an object in the room, something to be talked over because he was a prisoner. It happened more often than he’d thought it would. To drown out the way it made him feel, he focused on his injuries. Every breath he took left his ribs aching. His legs shook. A black ball of anxiety rolled in his stomach.

Finally, Eric nodded goodbye to Sheila and approached Max. He motioned for Max to hold out his wrists. Max sighed again, this time deeper. “I don’t see why you’ve started shackling us all the time,” he complained.

“It’s a new policy,” Eric said.

“Sure,” Max said, raising his eyebrow. “I wonder what other strange new policies will be enforced now that the power is out.”

“The generators are on,” Eric said, helping Max to his feet.

“Small miracles,” Max muttered.

Eric locked the shackles and helped Max stand up fully. “You should be more careful. Colin is scheduled to be checked out once you leave.”

“That guy doesn’t have a scratch on him,” Max said and hated that the low-simmering anxiety leaked through his words. “Why would he need to come to the medical bay? I didn’t even get a chance to fight back. He barely got smacked in the jaw.”

Eric motioned for Max to follow him out of the medical bay. “I thought the two of you were friends.”

Max snorted and looked up to the ceiling. The generators made the lights give out a soft whirring sound. But even with the lights on, the prison was still full of dark shadows and even darker hallways. Some days, the sunlight barely made it through the windows. “Nah, Colin has been out to get me since day one,” Max said.

Eric gave him a strange look but remained silent as he led Max to his cell. Eric unlocked his cell and ushered Max inside, bending down to unshackle his wrists. “Try not to get into any more fights, okay? For my sake,” Eric said as he locked the door behind him. “Breakfast will be on its way shortly.”

“Another new policy?” Max asked. “Now I can’t even go to the cafeteria?”

But Eric didn’t answer.

Once Eric was out of sight, Max stumbled to his bed and collapsed in it. Eric wasn’t wrong about Colin. Colin had welcomed Max on his first day in prison with open arms. They’d both been part of the same drug ring. Both of them had gotten caught and were paying their dues in the system. The only difference was that Colin hadn’t sung like a bird and had taken his ten to fifteen years without parole without implicating the cartel. On the other hand, Max had rolled on the cartel, earning him five years maximum with parole.

Sure, he might have kept that fact from Colin in the beginning. He needed someone in his corner during the those first terrifying days of incarceration. Max had been a newbie and easily taken advantage of by others, but with Colin on his side, a lot of the other inmates didn’t harass him as much. Max learned as much as he could: who he could trust, who he had to watch out for, when he’d be safest.

He just hadn’t thought Colin would find out about his betrayal so fast. When Colin discovered that Max was the one who had given up the names and dates for future drug exchanges that had landed even more of the cartel in jail, he swore he’d kill Max. Max hadn’t just betrayed their cartel, he’d also betrayed Colin personally. Colin and his cronies took to beating Max up at every possible opportunity. When Max’s life had been threatened, he’d asked for a block change, but didn’t get it. The most he got were a few more watchful glares from the guards. Colin was still able to corner him when he least expected it. There was nothing to stop Colin from jumping him and pummeling him until he lost consciousness. This time had been no different.

Max rolled onto his side on the bed and uttered a soft moan of pain. The beds were hard, the sheets thin, and all he wanted was to be anywhere else than here. He pulled the blanket up and over his shoulder, making sure he could see the door to his cell in case anyone unexpected wanted to pay him a visit. Tears pressed against his eyes, and he closed his eyes tight to get rid of them. Tears were a weakness he could not afford to show.

Come to think of it, this had been one of the worst beatings he’d been through. Usually, the guards pulled fights apart within a minute or two, but this fight had gone on for far too long. At least five minutes. The longest five minutes of Max’s life. Which seemed…odd.

Max cracked open his eyes and peered at the bars of his cell. He didn’t hear much. No guards on rotation. The breakfast Eric said was on the way hadn’t shown up yet for some reason. More and more, the schedule of prison life had been out of whack since Kathleen’s last visit. He’d been spending more time in his cell than usual. It was as though the best solution for the prison to control their prisoners was to keep them confined. In fact, a lot of the guards he’d known fairly well had seemed to disappear without warning. The guards’ rotations had become more spread out, the allotted recreation time cut down to nothing, and most meals served in trays delivered to cells instead of taking the inmates to the cafeteria. At first, he’d wondered if it was simply a hiring turnover, but even then, the erratic behavior wasn’t normal. It wasn’t normal that he could’ve gotten his skull smashed open because of a hiring problem.

He pressed his lips tightly together. Things had become so strange since the power had become unreliable. Were guards just not showing up for work? Was the state not supplying enough money? God, he hoped this wouldn’t become a slow descent into anarchy.

But honestly, that was what it felt like. If the electricity went out completely and the generators finally quit, the inmates could be on lock-down permanently. And if that happened, if there was truly something larger going on, Max wouldn’t be surprised if the guards vanished completely, to be replaced with angry inmate leaders and their surveying goons who selected who they wanted to release, leaving those who had no allegiance to rot in their cells. Max would definitely be left to rot.

Without guards, a five-minute scuffle could turn into a ten-minute beatdown. Max wouldn’t survive a ten-minute encounter with Colin. The anxiety in his stomach flared into something frantic, making him feel like a dog trapped in a too-small cage. Without that protection, Colin could easily kill him. This wasn’t about him serving a sentence. He was battling for his life.

Max swallowed hard. He closed his eyes again and told himself to sleep. Hopefully, these thoughts would go away with rest. But there was still no guard. There was still no food.

He needed to escape.

The thought arrived out of nowhere and felt ludicrous. Something out of a movie. How the hell could he even think about getting out? The cells still had physical locks that required a key. The guards shackled everyone any time the inmates went anywhere. Before Eric, the last guard who’d entered his cell block—it had been late lunch yesterday, had he really missed dinner?—had given Max a look of hidden terror before handing Max his food tray.

As he put things into perspective, he realized that these might very well be his last days on earth. So far, he’d spent them wishing he could find a dark hole to crawl into and hide. Yet some part of him kept screaming at him to break the rules again.

Taking another deep breath, Max dug deep to find steel in his constitution. He thought of Kathleen, how they’d been so stupid and brave when they were young, and figured enough was enough. He could either die here, or die out there. He’d take his chances out there.

* * *

After his breakfast didn’t arrive, his decision to escape had hardened into something that must happen. Now that he knew something was wrong, he couldn’t unsee the problems. Each passing moment made him even more concerned for his life.

It took three days for Max to finally figure out the current prison rotation schedule. Eric was one of the remaining guards who seemed to have a family. By the dark circles under Eric’s eyes, Max figured the poor man would have vanished too if he wasn’t banking on a paycheck. A couple of the other remaining guards were mean and tough. Definitely ones that Max didn’t want to have a scuffle with. None of them gave friendly advice like Eric did, or waved hello like Eric did whenever Max’s food tray was finally brought to him. Eric was a good man. A kind man. The one that Max would have to take advantage of.

He knew Eric would be on morning rotation that day. As soon as Max knew Eric would be coming down at any moment with his breakfast, he flung himself onto his bed and began to clutch at his stomach and moan as if in agony. The other inmates down the row yelled at him to shut up. Max ignored them and continued to fuss.

He had to be careful. There was only one opportunity for him to do this. He wouldn’t have another shot. Eric, while being a kind guard, was still a guard. Given the chance and the realization of Max’s intentions, he’d beat Max to a pulp or even shoot him if it came down to it. To the guards, Max was just another bad dog. If he put together that Max was trying to escape, Max knew Eric would throw him into the dark pit of solitary confinement. Then, who knew how long he’d be stuck down there? Probably forever. No one would remember he was down there to pull him out.

Max let out another long, dramatic moan. He heard the jingle of keys and the clunky footsteps of a man wearing heavy boots. Max peeked out to see Eric standing in front of his cell with a tray in hand.

Max moaned once more.

Eric paused and then said, “Hey, are you okay?”

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Max said through gritted teeth. He twisted too hard to the side and let out a real gasp of pain. Not everything was faked. “My stomach hurts really bad. I think Colin ruptured something.”

“Where’s the pain at?” Eric asked. The keys were poised in his hands.

“Everywhere,” Max said and realized that would be unlikely to get someone’s help, “but mostly in my lower stomach. Like near my kidneys. Do you think I have internal bleeding?”

Eric’s face looked panicked.

“You gotta take me to the hospital,” Max urged. He sensed victory. “Something is really wrong with me. I could be dying.”

“Okay, okay, hang on.”

“Hurry! I feel my whole body is seizing up!”

Eric muttered frantically under his breath and set the food tray on the floor. He fumbled with the keys and opened up the cell door. He rushed inside and knelt next to Max, putting a hand on Max’s shoulder. “Hey, you’re gonna be okay. Let me help you up and—”

Max grabbed Eric’s head and slammed it into the concrete wall. Eric let out a soft gasp before Max repeated the action. Eric crumpled down into the bed and halfway on top of Max, his eyes rolling up in the back of his head.

“I’m so sorry,” Max whispered as he eased out of the bed. He pulled Eric into the bed and covered him up with the blanket. “You’ll be home with your son soon. I promise.”

Then he slipped to the cell door and closed it behind him, locking Eric in his place. When he pulled it out of the lock, the key bit into his palm. There was no going back now.

4

By the time they rounded the corner and the hotel came into view, Matthew had recounted everything that had happened to him and his father during their journey to get back home. Kathleen had listened to his whole tale with wide eyes and rapt attention. She uttered small sounds of approval and disbelief as Matthew told her about his choices over his journey. He couldn’t help but feel proud of himself about everything he’d accomplished, but at the same time he was also relieved to see that his story had distracted Kathleen from overthinking about the bikers and her earlier experience. Her cheeks now bloomed red from exertion. The sickly pallor of shock had been washed away. The tension had eased out of her shoulders. She no longer looked so hunched over, as if braced for an attack. Matthew continued to talk, and he watched with quiet joy as his wife seemed to come back to life.

He wanted to ask her about her journey, but whenever he left an opening in the conversation for her to fill, she avoided it. He had no doubt that her own journey had been just as harrowing as his. They had time. When she felt more comfortable, he’d ask again about what she’d been through to get back home.

At the end of the lane, he saw his family hunched in a tight circle. Jade stood close by with her attention focused on the rustic hotel. Patton’s dark head popped up, and then suddenly he was running toward them. When he reached them, he flung himself into Kathleen’s arms. She let out a startled cry. Her bicycle clattered to the ground. She clutched at Patton as though he were her lifeline.

Matthew smiled softly upon seeing their reunion and met Kathleen’s tearful eyes. He knew the feeling. He’d been so terrified for the safety of his children that when he finally saw them safe and sound, he had a hard time trusting it was true. Now that his family was safe and whole once more, he wanted to cling to them and never let them go.

Matthew heard gravel crunch behind him, and he turned to see Allison. She had her hands shoved in her pockets and looked somewhat shy, as if she was intruding. Matthew wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispered in her hair. “I know you took care of your mother.”

Allison nodded, even though she shivered against him, as though her fear was finally leaving her. Behind her, Ruth and David watched their reunion with pride. Matthew wanted to bask in this moment forever. They were all together. Yet, even though he knew they were safe, the threats of the outside world still sat in the back of his mind.

He pulled back from his daughter and looked at Kathleen and Patton. “Let’s go inside,” he said to his family. “We have a lot to discuss.”

Kathleen nodded, let go of Patton, and stood up. She picked up her bicycle, and Patton grabbed the one Matthew held. Letting out a shaky sigh, she said, “I’m so happy to see everyone is safe.”

“Grandma and I tried,” Patton cut in, sounding unnaturally stern. “We really tried to keep the hotel safe.”

“You did a great job, honey,” Kathleen said, and she leaned down to push hair off of Patton’s forehead.

Patton still looked concerned, as if Kathleen had misunderstood him.

“C’mon, buddy,” Matthew said, gesturing to Ruth and David. “Let’s get Grandma and Grandpa inside. We need to figure out our next move.”

Patton turned the serious look to his father and nodded in agreement. Matthew felt a tightness in his throat and he wondered where his carefree son had gone. While Samuel hadn’t succeeded in taking the hotel from them, he had stolen other irreplaceable things. Matthew only hoped that Patton could get back his youthful joy.

They walked toward Ruth, David, and Jade. Kathleen hugged Ruth and David. Ruth laughed and brushed her tears away. Again, Matthew felt whole. As if now that his family was back together, he’d do anything to keep them that way. He watched Kathleen’s brow furrow as she seemed to consider Jade, who was watching the family reunion from a short distance. He knew that look. Kathleen was displeased.

“We need to have a family meeting,” Matthew said, looking away from his wife. “I need to sit down and go through what we need to do next.”

“Me too,” David said. “My feet hurt, and I think it’s a great idea to make a plan. How does the lounge sound?”

“Perfect,” Matthew said, and he took up the rear as the Riley clan began to walk inside. Jade turned to follow them inside, but Kathleen stood and crossed her arms, blocking her path. Matthew felt her nudge his arm, and then she said in a low tone to Jade, “This is a family meeting. We need our privacy.”

Jade looked confused and a bit sad. “Oh,” she said, as if struggling to find the right words. “Would it be okay if I provide some input? Help out a little?”

Kathleen’s eyes narrowed, and she scowled. “Are you part of the Riley family?” she asked.

David had paused in the doorway and was watching the exchange. Matthew felt the tension in the air and knew from his wife’s tells that her distrust was swiftly morphing into anger.

“No,” Jade said and swallowed hard.

“Then you won’t be coming to our family meeting,” Kathleen said, as if that settled the matter. “Don’t you have someplace else you need to be? Your own family to find?”

Matthew cleared his throat, but David stepped in. “Now, Kathleen,” he began, “I think we can include Jade in our discussion. We will have to figure out her role in all of this, too.”

“Why?” Kathleen demanded. She looked to Matthew as if begging for his support.

Matthew’s mouth went dry. His mind went blank. He didn’t know what to say or even what to do. A couple of hours earlier, he would have backed Kathleen one hundred percent. That was before he knew that Jade had helped David when his father was sick and dying on the road from a gunshot wound. It also happened to be Jade who had caused said gunshot wound in the first place when she hadn’t gotten her way.

“Let’s focus on what’s really important, here,” David continued, talking to Kathleen as if she might be easily spooked. “For now, Jade is part of this group. We should get her input. It doesn’t make sense to exclude her.”

“It doesn’t make sense to include her,” Kathleen snapped back. “From what Matt told me, she isn’t exactly trustworthy.”

Jade’s cheeks flared red. “I know I did wrong before, but I plan on making it up. To everyone.” Her fingers sought the fringe of her jacket, and she began rubbing the leather.

“She saved my life, Kathleen,” David said.

“From what I hear, she was the reason your life was in danger in the first place,” Kathleen countered. Her voice rose in anger.

“Kathleen…” Matthew began.

“She deserves to have a say,” David said. “Yes, she did injure me, but as the wounded party, if I think she has value to our group, then you have no reason to doubt my logic.”

“Please,” Matthew said to Kathleen softly. “We can’t turn on each other.”

Kathleen went quiet and pursed her lips. She looked at Matthew with those narrowed eyes for a moment as if sizing him up. “Fine,” she finally said and then pushed past them all to enter the hotel.

David gave Matthew a pointed look.

“She’s been through a lot,” Matthew said, suddenly feeling the need to defend his wife.

“I’m sure she has, but Matt, I wasn’t lying when I said we needed to focus on what was important. Safety. Survival. That needs to be first and foremost in our discussion. Not turning on others.”

“I know, Dad,” Matthew said and motioned for Jade to follow them inside. He felt on the fence about everything. The fight that had almost exploded between his wife and father left him uneasy. He didn’t trust Jade, either, but she was very street-smart compared to Matthew’s book-smart. If David could trust her for now, so could Matthew. For now.

When Matthew stepped inside the hotel’s main lounge area, his eyes were immediately drawn to the bullet hole in the wall where he’d missed shooting Samuel. Had that been today? It seemed like a lifetime ago. In reality, it had been earlier that afternoon. He’d almost killed someone.

Jade eased past him and settled in one of the wingback chairs with her hands clasped in front of her. She’d gone very still, as though she were a rabbit in the fox’s den.

David sat next to Ruth on the love seat. Matthew made his way over to where Kathleen sat on the sofa. Patton was sitting cross-legged at her feet, and Allison sat in the middle. Matthew sat on the other side of Allison and gave her a comforting smile. He didn’t like the listless way she looked back at him, as if she were a ghost. As soon as he sat, he felt his legs relax and nearly groaned in relief. He had been on his feet for so long. Then he spread his hands and began to speak, as though delivering some kind of speech.

“I know we’ve been through a lot,” he began, “and I know that our experiences have made us all scared and worried about what we need to do next. We need to think of our home as our castle, and our castle needs to be fortified. When we bought this place, we knew it had a lot of issues that needed to be fixed. This place hadn’t been well-maintained.”

“Some of the doors have cracks in them,” Ruth murmured. “There’s water damage and rot.”

“Right,” Matthew said and fought the urge to rub his face with his hands. He didn’t want anyone to know how overwhelmed he suddenly felt. “We need to find all those cracks and patch them up. Honestly, we need to make a list of everything that needs to be fixed. Secondly, we need to create some kind of perimeter fence.”

“That’s a good idea,” Kathleen piped up. “Right now, it’s only there as a property marker.”

“It will help us know when people are coming here,” Ruth added and then said in a stronger voice. “I don’t want to be surprised by anyone else again.”

David took her hand and squeezed tightly. “We also need to know what our food supply looks like,” he said. “There’s a lot of mouths to feed, and chances are our supplies won’t last us long. If we can take an inventory of what we have, we can make a plan about meals and how long we can stretch everything out.”

“Grandma and I got some food from the grocery store,” Patton piped up. “We’ve been smoking and dehydrating meat and canning everything else. Plus, there was an abandoned van on the side of the road. We took some food from that too.”

“It’s good to know we have food,” Matthew said, even as he watched Kathleen’s face darken at the mention of the delivery van. “I assume you got a lot of perishable items?”

“From the van, yes,” Ruth said. “I also got a lot of rice and boxed food from the store.”

Matthew began to feel a little bit better knowing that. “That’s great. Now that we know we have food for the time being, we can focus on making sure the hotel feels safe for everyone. I want us to be comfortable and settled here. We shouldn’t be looking over our shoulders in our own home as though we’re expecting to be attacked. We’ll need to take inventory of everything that needs to be fixed, starting with those windows.” He pointed to the picture windows.

“Agreed,” Kathleen said. “Then we need to find a way to craft a protective fence that keeps people away and off our property.”

“We could build a gate across the road,” Matthew said, latching onto her enthusiasm. “Then we’d be able to completely control who comes and goes.”

Kathleen nodded and grinned at him, and Matthew felt as though it had been ages since he’d seen her smile like that.

“I’m in agreement,” David said. “Making this hotel our fortress is a priority.”

“I’m glad you agree, Dad,” Matthew said. He felt ready to tackle the tasks at hand now that they had a plan. Just thinking about creating a fence to enclose them and keep their property safe from the dangerous outside world made him ready to jump up and start working at once.

“But I think we should be careful that we aren’t keeping people away entirely,” David finished.

Matthew paused for a moment, startled at what he’d just heard. His father, the one who was suspicious of everyone, was cautioning them to not be too wary of others?

“Why wouldn’t we want to keep people away?” Kathleen demanded. “I don’t want anyone showing up at the hotel and threatening us.”

Matthew felt the tension in the air spark again and foresaw another argument brewing between his father and his wife.

“Well, think about it,” David said. “We’ll need food supplies soon. We’ve already pointed out and agreed that we will need to somehow restock. I know for a fact that no one here has the first idea on how to garden or farm. Therefore, we will eventually need to seek out the support of other people with those skills. If we completely isolate ourselves, we won’t survive long.” David shrugged and met Matthew’s eyes as if daring Matthew to disagree with him. “I’m just as nervous of other people as you are, Kathleen, but there’s also safety in numbers.”

“It’s not safe if we don’t know who those people are!” Kathleen said.

“We’re from the city,” David continued. “We have to recognize that we don’t know how to survive in the country. While we’ve lived in this area for a while, we really don’t know a lot about the land. We don’t know what can and can’t grow here.” David paused, as if he’d suddenly overwhelmed himself, but then took a deep breath as if to strengthen his resolve. “It’s pragmatic to realize that we will need help later on. We should protect ourselves, of course, but not to the point of isolation. If we make enemies, no one will help us when we’re actually in dire straits.”

Matthew looked down at where his hands were gripping his knees. He didn’t want to agree with his father, but as usual, David did have a point. While the idea of reaching out to others and asking for help made him uneasy, they would need to make connections to at least set up trades or find supplies. Feeling so wary of others felt unnatural to him. Usually, he wouldn’t have a problem asking for help. But this time was different because seeking out help would determine whether his family would survive or not. What if he reached out to these future strangers, only to have those people turn on him, like Jade had? What if other people realized how valuable the hotel was and tried to take it from them like Samuel had?

“It’s the people we need to protect ourselves from,” Kathleen said, as if echoing his thoughts. “We can’t trust that people will help us out of the goodness of their hearts. I can tell you that firsthand. They’ll see what we have and try to take it from us.”

“Samuel did try to take the hotel,” Ruth murmured. “I might have trusted him, too, since he was born and raised in Galena. A local. That would have been a mistake.”

David covered her other hand with his. “I know, but we might have to take that chance. We’re smarter now. Much more careful. We can take measures to protect ourselves and still make contact with others.”

“How are we supposed to do that when everyone we’ve met who isn’t family has betrayed us?” Kathleen asked hotly.

Jade made a soft wounded sound. Kathleen looked triumphant as if she’d scored a point. Patton and Allison exchanged confused looks, but both remained silent and let the adults hash out the issue.

Matthew took a deep, calming breath. “I understand, Dad. Maybe though, we can talk about that at a later point. Right now, we should focus on keeping this place safe. Fixing everything that’s wrong will take a while as it is. We can’t have people sneaking up on us, but at the same time we are ignorant about how to survive. We’re blind on both sides.”

“Maybe,” Jade began, before pausing as if uncertain. She cleared her throat and found her voice again. “Maybe it might help everyone feel more secure if they knew how to protect themselves. Walls and fences will only go so far. Sure, you can build a fence, but maybe you can then assess outsiders on a case-by-case basis. Then you aren’t isolating, but if trouble does show up, at least everyone will know how to physically protect themselves. You can rely on your skills instead of relying on the hotel. That would bridge the gap, I think.” Her fingers went to the fringe on her jacket again and began to worry at the leather.

Kathleen made a sound of disapproval. “That’s a good suggestion, Jade, but honestly if we were evaluating people, you wouldn’t make the cut.” She suddenly looked down, as if ashamed at how she sounded, but then she continued to speak. “I know you helped David, but this hotel is for family only. You’ll need to find someplace else to stay long-term. I know David trusts you, but I can’t take the chance that you’ll hurt someone else. While we appreciate you being here, it is only for now. I don’t understand why you’re sticking around to begin with.”

Jade looked at Matthew helplessly, as if pleading.

“I don’t understand why you’re here at all,” Kathleen said, with a note of finality.

5

“Matt, please,” Jade said, “I don’t have anywhere else to go. I would never hurt anyone again, I swear to you. I did a terrible thing that I’ll regret for the rest of my life, but I’m trying to make it up to you. Please don’t send me away.”

Matthew pursed his lips. She looked so helpless. Her petite stature made her appear breakable. He remembered thinking something similar when they’d first met behind a gas station. Back then, he’d promised to help her. He’d promised that she could have a place at the hotel if she helped them get home. She’d won his father over with her charm. The same charm she was relying on now.

David had always told Matthew he had a heart of gold. That he trusted too easily and had too much faith in humanity. Yet somehow, David was the one advocating for Jade. For some reason, he was willing to give her a second chance. Matthew knew his father would never do that for anyone else. So, if David was going to see Jade through rose-tinted glasses, Matthew would be forced to be the one on alert, wary of anyone who might threaten his family. He couldn’t be swayed by her.

“I’m sorry, Jade,” Matthew said, “but we can’t take that risk.”

Kathleen looked relieved, as if having Matthew take her side had eased the panic within her. Matthew caught Allison exchanging another worried look with Patton. Matthew swore he would keep them safe and try to maintain their innocence in all of this. If Jade could charm his father, he could only imagine what kind of influence she would wield over Patton and Allison.

If Jade stayed, Matthew knew he’d never feel safe. He’d always be worried about his children.

Matthew stood and picked up the shotgun. He kept the barrel aimed toward the ceiling and the stock cupped in one of his hands. “C’mon, Jade. I’ll walk you out,” he said.

“Dad,” Allison said quietly, “what did she do, exactly?”

“Yeah,” Patton chimed in, “what did she do that was so bad?”

Matthew shook his head, refusing to talk about it, and motioned Jade toward the door with the shotgun barrel.

“Matthew,” David hissed, “you can’t just throw her off the property.”

Tears began to fall down Jade’s cheeks. Her chin wobbled. She stood up, though, as if accepting Matthew’s verdict. With slow steps, she followed him outside.

“Matthew!” David called out, louder this time, and he scrambled to his feet to follow. Kathleen, Allison, and Patton joined him until the whole Riley clan was back outside in the dimming afternoon light. A breeze blew by, rustling the leaves and the grass. White clouds floated past the sun, giving some reprieve from the bright light.

“Do I have any say in this?” David demanded. He grabbed Matthew’s arm to make him stop walking.

Matthew glared down at his father and said, “If you were in my position, you’d do the same thing.”

Jade hung back. Her shoulders shook with sobs.

“We need people with skills that we don’t possess,” David said, his blue eyes flashing. “Jade would be a useful member of the group. We’ll need her. If you tell her to go, you’ll be making her your enemy.”

“Isn’t she already our enemy?” Matthew said, shaking David’s hand off of him. He couldn’t believe how hard his father was fighting to keep Jade around. “After everything we’ve been through, you don’t see how dangerous she can be?”

David’s face hardened. “I know I sound ridiculous, but when I was in the Army, I had a sense about recruits who were trustworthy. Jade is one of those people. You have to stick up for people who are willing to admit to their wrongs and try to make those wrongs right.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” Matthew said. His control over his anger started to unravel. “After everything you spouted at me about being careful of who to trust, you’re going to throw that in my face?”

“What could Jade possibly do that would make her so valuable?” Kathleen demanded and pushed her way over to stand next to Matthew. Kathleen looked as if she’d been backed into a corner. Her shoulders hunched as if she were braced for an attack, and her dark eyes glittered.

“I’m standing right here,” Jade said.

David turned to Jade. “Jade, how long have you been living on your own?”

Jade glowered, as if considering not answering, when she finally said, “Three years. Ever since I left home, I’ve been on my own. I had a terrible relationship with my mother, and it was better for us both if I wasn’t in the way anymore. It was always better that way.”

“But you must’ve been really young to have survived on your own all this time,” David said.

Matthew rolled his eyes. He hated it when his father was trying to make a point.

Jade nodded. “Yeah, I’ve had to deal with a lot of ugly people and been in a lot of nasty situations. I’m not proud of a lot of the things I’ve done, but some of it was done in self-defense.”

“Which included hurting us, Dad. You don’t think she’ll hurt the kids? Or Mom?” Matthew demanded. “Kathleen is right. We can’t trust her. I’m sorry, Jade, but you’re too much of a risk.”

David looked exasperated. “You’re missing the entire point.”

“I’ll prove that I’m useful,” Jade said and jutted her chin up, as if accepting a challenge. “I’ll show you how useful I can be.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Kathleen scoffed.

Matthew rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache beginning to build. “How are you going to prove yourself?” he asked. If he didn’t give her a chance, it might cause a rift between him and David, but if he didn’t stick to his guns, it would cause a fight between him and Kathleen. If David wanted Jade to stay so badly, then she’d better be able to wow them.

Jade paused for a moment and then puffed up her chest. She looked to the shotgun in Matthew’s hand. “With my marksmanship,” she said.

A cold rush of fear filled Matthew. For a moment, he was back on the highway and fighting tooth and nail to wrench the handgun away from Jade. Her fingernail gouges on his wrists seemed to sting as if they too remembered how hard he’d fought her. Back then, he knew without a sliver of a doubt that if he gave Jade an inch, she wouldn’t hesitate to shoot him dead. That same knowledge applied here. “Out of the question,” Matthew said.

“Hell no,” Kathleen said at the same time. “You think we’d willingly give you a gun? You could turn on us and shoot all of us!”

“You’re being ridiculous,” David said. “She’s outnumbered. Unless she’s extraordinarily fast, she wouldn’t be able to hurt any of us before we stopped her.”

Jade looked almost offended. “I’m not a china doll. I am fast. I’m a good shot—”

“There’s no way in this world or the next that you’ll get that gun away from Matthew,” Kathleen said with finality.

Jade’s mouth turned into a mulish line. Her expression hardened. “I’ll just have to show you, then,” she said and darted forward toward Matthew. Matthew barely had a moment to think before he was swinging the barrel of the gun down from where it was pointed toward the sky. Jade dodged to the side and with one hand pushed the shotgun barrel down and away from her. Her other hand gripped Matthew’s injured wrist and twisted it. With the angle she had on the shotgun paired with the twisting pressure on his wrist, Matthew couldn’t help but cry out in sharp, sudden pain. His grip on the gun began to loosen against his will. Jade thrust the barrel down and out of his hand and then reached for the stock, effectively yanking the gun from his faltering hands into her own. She pressed the polished stock against her armpit and pointed the barrel at the dirt.

Without thinking, Matthew’s hands came up, palms out. He’d been easily and effectively disarmed. Terror filled him as he remembered her pointing a gun at him before. How he’d stared down a handgun barrel and wondered when she was going to pull the trigger. He had the same sensation now. Time seemed to slow for him.

He heard Kathleen scream. Her hands flew toward her waist and scrambled for the handgun in the holster against her back. Matthew knew she’d never be fast enough. Her face transformed with fear.

He watched as Jade took three swift steps back and swung the gun up. For a moment, he wondered which one of them Jade would kill first. She pivoted, braced the stock against her shoulder and pointed away from them.

The sudden gunfire exploded in the air. Matthew jerked back as though he had actually been shot. Instead, he saw a low-hanging branch on a tree some fifty yards away explode into splinters and the rest of it crack off the main trunk and land on the ground.

Jade flipped the safety back on and shot Matthew a smug smile. She focused on David, whose mouth hung open in shock. “Now imagine if I actually had something to properly aim at,” she said.

Matthew realized he was shaking. Ruth uttered a soft, “Wow.”

“Let me get you some real targets,” David said, looking as though he was trying to hide his shock. With careful steps, he made his way back into the hotel and returned moments later with a set of tin cans strung together with twine.

“Hey, that’s our security system,” Patton said.

“Well, now it’s going to be used for Jade to show off how good she is with a gun,” David said. He walked out a ways and began to set the cans in staggered places at different distances. Once he made his way back and behind Jade, she promptly took aim and fired at the closest target.

Ping! The first can exploded up into the air.

Matthew’s jaw dropped. He felt Patton grab his sleeve and tug. “Dad, I want to be able to do that,” he said.

Ping! The second can further away danced up and into the air.

“Me too,” Allison said, sounding breathless and yet at the same time strangely determined.

Ping! The third can flew off its target and bounced on the ground.

“Wow,” Matthew uttered, echoing Ruth. Jade was a much better shot than he’d given her credit for. He couldn’t help but say, “That is impressive.”

Ping! The fourth can shot off its perch and landed in the dirt.

“I could teach you,” Jade said. She flipped the safety back on and held the gun out to Matthew. He stared at it a moment, as if he couldn’t trust that she was offering it back to him. He took it tentatively from her.

“Absolutely not,” Kathleen said. When Matthew looked at her, he saw that her sickly pallor was back. Sweat beaded on her brow even though it was starting to get chilly.

Kathleen swallowed hard. “After that display, I’m even more convinced she can’t stay. If she can shoot that well, who’s to say she won’t attack us when we least expect it?”

“Kathleen, you’re being unreasonable,” David said. “I don’t know how to explain it any better to you, but I’ll be plain. Jade could teach us how to shoot. She could teach us how to disarm others if we are threatened. Don’t you see the value in that?”

Kathleen turned flashing eyes to David. “I’m being unreasonable? Explain to me, David, how looking out for my family is unreasonable. Explain to me why it’s reasonable to have my children around a woman who could disarm and shoot us at any moment? Or does that make me not useful? Would you throw me out of here because I don’t have the same skills?”

David glanced at Matthew and suddenly looked sheepish. “I didn’t mean it like that. I would never put my grandchildren in harm’s way. I’m just saying that if she can teach us and is willing to teach us, it would be foolish to miss that opportunity.”

Jade crossed her arms and held her head up high.

Matthew knew the argument wouldn’t be won by persuasion. His wife and father both had stubborn personalities. There was only one way to settle this. “No one is going to change their minds,” he said. “We need to put this to a vote.”

6

“Do you really think a vote is the best way to settle this?” Kathleen asked and glared at David.

“Yes.” Matthew hoped he sounded convincing. “Majority rules. You’re not going to budge on your view of the situation and neither is Dad. This is the best way to settle the argument before we end up holding grudges against each other. We need to stick together and this will be the most appropriate way for us to make decisions as a family.”

Kathleen gnawed on her lip and glanced from David to Jade. Her hands came to rest on her hips. “Fine,” she said.

“Fine,” David echoed her. “Agreed.”

“Why are you so against Jade staying here?” Ruth said softly to Kathleen.

Matthew glanced up. In all the chaos and fighting between his wife and father, he’d almost forgotten about his mother. She stood close to Patton and Allison as though to watch over them. He suddenly felt ashamed of himself. He hated that his children had to watch their role models fall into petty arguments.

Kathleen looked equally stunned as if coming to the same conclusion, and turned to her mother-in-law. “Matthew told me about Jade as we walked up here. Jade shot David in the arm.”

Ruth nodded slowly and glanced at David’s bandaged arm. “Yes, Matthew told me.”

Patton and Allison exchanged worried looks. Patton stood a bit closer to Allison and peered at David’s arm. “Grandpa, does it hurt?”

“It did,” David said, “but I’m much better now.”

“Matt, what’s making you hesitate about accepting her into our group?” Ruth asked.

Matthew sighed and looked off into the distance. A million reasons filled his mind. While Kathleen and Allison knew part of the story, they didn’t know everything. Even though a vote was the best option to settle the disagreement, it should at least be an informed vote. Matthew cleared his throat. He knew he’d be airing Jade’s dirty laundry and painting her in an even worse light by telling his family the truth.

Kathleen and Ruth didn’t know that Jade had murdered a man right in front of Matthew and David. They didn’t know that she had kidnapped them and held them both at gunpoint. They didn’t know that David had almost been pushed into a second heart attack because Jade demanded a grueling pace of them as they walked down the highway. Matthew knew his decision to make Jade leave was influenced by these actions, just as much as it was by the fact that she’d shot his father.

If Kathleen knew everything about Jade, she would be even more convinced that Jade was their enemy. Perhaps David might be swayed if Matthew reminded him about what had happened on their journey home. It wasn’t fair for him to hold back when the situation was so much more nuanced than it originally appeared.

Could he bring himself to live with Jade under the same roof? Sleep in a bed knowing she was down the hallway? Would he always be looking over his shoulder, waiting for her to turn on them? He wasn’t sure.

At the same time, while his gut told him to toss Jade out, her skillset would be useful to them. She could even teach him how to properly shoot and disarm someone. If he’d known how to do that, he might have been able to save his mother better from Samuel.

“Jade is obviously skilled with a gun,” Matthew said slowly and felt under the spotlight as everyone turned to look at him. “You all know that she shot my dad. But there is more to the story.”

“Tell us,” Allison said. Her blue eyes had a sharp look to them.

Matthew’s mouth went dry. For a moment, he took in the sight of his daughter and was quietly stunned at how much she’d grown since he’d last seen her. He realized he didn’t want to relate what had happened to him and David to his children. He didn’t want to fill their minds with images of their family at risk, but at the same time, Allison was old enough to handle it. She had to make her own decisions and have her own voice in the family. To do that, she needed to hear what he had to say. No matter how graphic or painful it would be.

“When Dad and I were walking back from Galena, we met Jade at a gas station. We’d promised that she could come and live at the hotel if she helped us get back home,” Matthew began.

Kathleen took in a hissing breath. Ruth clasped her hands together and looked at Matthew intently.

“We promised that we would take her in,” Matthew continued. “That changed when we stopped at another gas station to buy supplies. The food and drinks were outrageously priced. When I spoke to the gas attendant, hoping he would give us a fair deal, Jade helped me negotiate. The gas station attendant didn’t take well to our suggestions, and he made a crass comment toward Jade.”

“He propositioned me,” Jade cut in. Her face hardened. “He wanted to take me into the back room and have me convince him to lower the prices. Think about that.” She turned to Kathleen. “What would you do if someone said that to your daughter? Would you let Allison show him a good time to get cheaper food?” Jade’s face twisted in disgust.

For a moment, everyone fell silent and let her words sink in. Matthew took a deep breath and continued his story. “That’s true. He did proposition her. Jade told him no, pulled out a handgun, and shot him when he got more aggressive.”

Kathleen’s face, which had begun to soften in sympathy, dropped in outrage. Ruth remained calm, but Matthew saw her clasped hands tighten. David looked as though he was made from stone. The crow’s feet around his eyes seemed to deepen. Matthew wondered if David would butt in and correct him, but his father kept his own counsel.

“Jade shot the man point-blank in the chest,” Matthew said. “Then, when Dad and I said we couldn’t travel with her anymore because we were afraid for our lives and couldn’t trust her, she held us at gunpoint instead. She made us steal from the store and then made us walk down the highway.” Matthew turned to look at his father. “Do you remember?”

“Yes, I was there,” David said, thin-lipped.

“You almost had a second heart attack,” Matthew pointed out.

“Yes, I almost did.” David held his head up high. “And I still think we should welcome Jade to our hotel.”

Kathleen looked practically murderous. Ruth’s face had whitened as Matthew finished the story. Allison’s mouth was slightly open, as though in shock herself. Patton looked downright scared.

“Why would you trust someone like that to be around our children? To be around us?” Kathleen asked David. She sounded outraged.

“I’d like to hear from Jade,” Ruth said and looked expectantly at Jade. “Why would you do something like that?”

Jade blushed in shame. Her chin wobbled as though she were trying to hold back another volley of tears. “I can’t defend what I did,” she finally said. Her voice trembled with emotion. “I can’t take my actions back. They haunt me. They’ll always haunt me. At the same time, I believe I made the right decision in order to survive. You don’t know what it’s like out there. You have to understand that I’ve met loads of men like that guy from the gas station. I’ve run into shady people who only want to take advantage of others, especially of young women. He was just another guy trying to get something from me before he tossed me aside. He wasn’t going to give us a discount. I shouldn’t have overreacted like I did, but I was so angry. He’d disrespected me in front of Matt and David. If I’d been alone without a way to defend myself, I know for a fact he would have taken advantage of me.”

Kathleen let out a shaky breath and glanced at her daughter with something like sorrow in her eyes. Matthew couldn’t understand the look, but he understood her fear. The thought of Allison out on her own without any support system was horrendous. And if someone had acted like that toward her…

“The world has made me callous,” Jade continued. “I’ve been calloused by the world. After Matt ran me off, I realized that being so cruel was the thing that was going to get me killed. At some point, I’d be in the exact same situation again, and I knew down in my bones that the next person I fought with would be the last. If it wasn’t for Matthew’s compassion, I wouldn’t be here at all. No one would be that merciful to me again. I realized I needed to make amends for what I’d done,” Jade said, finally letting her tears flow freely. “I’d acted as though David and Matt were the bad guys. In reality, I was the bad guy. I didn’t want my actions to impact them or take away that compassion, either.”

“I think she should stay,” Patton said fiercely. “Dad, she’s sorry. We can’t throw her out.”

Matthew looked at his son with a sad smile. “Patton, buddy, you’re very mature and brave, but you’re still a child. You’re going to have to sit this family vote out.”

“But I’m part of the family,” Patton argued. “I deserve a vote. Does Allison get a vote?”

Matthew nodded. “Yes. She’s old enough to weigh the options.”

“So am I!”

Matthew shook his head. “I’m sorry, but no.”

“That’s not fair.” Patton looked furious. “If it’s a family vote, I should be included.”

“If you vote we won’t be able to have a clear consensus. Jade doesn’t get to vote for herself and you don’t get to vote because you’re too young. We’ll have the five of us decide.”

“He’s right, honey,” Kathleen said. “When you’re older, you’ll understand.”

Patton’s face collapsed into an expression of smoldering anger. He crossed his arms and glared at Matthew.

“All right,” Matthew said, “let’s take a vote. Whoever votes for Jade to leave, raise your hand.”

He raised his hand. So did Kathleen. Ruth bit her lip and Matthew waited, knowing she was still deliberating. Jade fingered at the fringe of her jacket and pulled on the leather as though she would tear it off.

“Now, raise your hand if you’d like Jade to stay,” Matthew said.

Allison, David, and Patton raised their hands. Ruth studied Jade a moment longer before finally putting her hand into the air.

“Three against two. Jade stays.” Matthew said, ignoring Patton’s vote. He felt his heart drop into his stomach. Jade let out a soft whoop of relief and smiled.

Kathleen’s face turned bright red. “This is a mistake,” she said before turning on her heel and storming off toward the hotel. Matthew watched her hunched shoulders and her clenched fists. She stomped into the hotel. His own fear started to transform into anger inside of him. He couldn’t believe Allison and Ruth had decided to vote for Jade after what had happened, but at least now he wouldn’t have to take all the responsibility if Jade turned on them.

David touched his elbow and watched Kathleen go. “She’ll calm down,” he said to Matthew. “I know she’s angry with me, but I hope once she’s had some time, she can understand why I voted the way I did. I hope you can understand, too.”

“You’re in charge of her,” Matthew said and was shocked at how venomous his tone sounded. “You wanted her to stay, Dad, so you keep an eye on her. Between my distrust of her and Kathleen’s worry for the kids…I can’t handle it all. I want nothing to do with her.”

David looked sad. “I understand. You’ll see. This will be the best choice for everyone. I know she’ll prove herself.”

“You better hope so,” Matthew said and pulled away from his father. He raised his voice to address the others. “We should go back to the hotel. It’s getting late. We have a lot of work to do in the morning, and we’ll all need some sleep. Tomorrow will be a big day.”

7

Max tightened his hand around the guard’s key ring so it wouldn’t jingle. He gave one last look at Eric, who was still slumped and motionless in Max’s bed, and locked the cell behind him. Max swallowed hard and turned away from his cell, hoping no other prisoners had noticed his escape.

Calmly, he walked with purpose down the cell block and stuck to the shadows. He carefully tried to avoid the cells he knew held other inmates who might cry out and ask where his escort might be. For a brief moment, he considered letting everyone out and escaping during the mass confusion and chaos, but he rejected the idea. He didn’t know who might now be working for Colin. It would be better if he found his way out all on his own.

He quietly descended the stairs to the first floor and headed in the direction of the exit. It was strange, but a lot of the cells were empty already—as if the prisoners had been let go. But where would they have gone?

Worry knotted his stomach. He hadn’t seen a single guard yet. If Eric was the only guard on duty, who was taking care of the other inmates? Was the state just going to abandon the prisoners? If he got caught, there would be absolutely no hope for him. He saw that with crystal clarity. Somehow, the power outages had caused the guards to disappear, and if Max’s gut was right, soon enough the prisoners would be taking over. If that happened, there was no doubt in his mind that he would be given over to Colin’s people and killed.

The sound of a commotion floated out from the direction of the cafeteria, and Max flattened himself against the wall, holding his breath until the voices seemed to slip away. His stomach let out a growl. His heart pounded in his chest. As he continued on, no one emerged or noticed him. Somehow, he was still moving undetected.

Maybe Lady Luck was finally on his side. He slipped past the rest of the cells and down the small hallway to the big main doors barricading the block from the rest of the prison where people could walk freely. He pulled out the key ring again, ready to test whether the skeleton key worked on these locks too, when he saw a figure slouched in the kiosk on the other side of the gate. A sharp gasp escaped his mouth, and he flattened himself back against the wall. He waited for sirens, for shouts that he get back, that he was dangerous. As the silence continued, he peeked around at the kiosk and saw that the same slumped figure hadn’t moved. Swallowing hard, he looked at the desk, and tried not to think too much about the dark stain on the desk’s top. Had the prisoners already started a coup?

He thought about Eric stuck in Max’s cell. He hoped the guard would be able to escape and get back to his family. Max felt terrible about what he had done, but he knew he had to do everything in his power to survive. There was a good chance that if the prisoners took over, the rest of the world wouldn’t even care.

But he had a target painted on his back, put there by the cartel. It was stay and be killed, or risk getting out and being free.

He slipped the key in the gate and opened it carefully. He pushed the gate to the side and then opened the next barrier. Could it be this easy? His heart sped up and he whipped around, looking to see if anyone was behind him. His sudden bravado now seemed like familiar arrogance. He didn’t want to think it, but…perhaps this was a trap.

The dark hallway before him now looked like a tunnel without a light at the end of it. Even with the generators, these lights had somehow been fried. Maybe, instead of following Lady Luck to the gold at the end of the rainbow, he was more like a cow being led to slaughter. Or an ambush. His stomach dropped as he imagined being used as an example for others thinking to betray the cartel, that his welcome surprise would be much worse than he’d ever thought. They wouldn’t just want to beat him. They’d want him to cower and beg for his life. They’d want to toy with him. The sensation of doom inside him built.

Nothing happened.

Just your imagination, he thought. Keep cool and get out.

Turning, he bolted down the hallway and crashed through a series of doors that were checkpoints for visitors. He swore he could hear people following him, the slip-slide of their prison slippers against the laminate. When he looked behind him, he saw nothing. Just your imagination.

He ran through the empty lobby, turning a blind eye to another slumped, motionless figure on the gray carpet. Maybe whoever he imagined was following him was waiting to jump him.

But then he saw light.

He tore through the prison’s front door and blinked in the sudden light of the slowly descending sun. His legs burned as he ran across the parking lot—and then he spotted Kathleen’s abandoned red SUV. Why was that still here? Why were everyone’s cars still here?

Where had Kathleen gone when she’d left the prison without her car?

Everything was eerily silent—no flashing lights indicating an escape, no gunshots, no barking dogs. He crouched against a car, his breathing coming out as a wheeze. Any sort of order he’d known had been destabilized, both inside the prison and out. For a moment, he felt overwhelmed with everything. The fear nearly paralyzed him.

He heard the sound of pounding feet behind him. Maybe that was just his heart still.

He leapt to his feet and maneuvered around a series of cars, frantically thinking of where he should go. If Kathleen’s SUV hadn’t been moved, maybe she hadn’t gone to Levi’s Warehouse to take his go-bag. The thought both worried him and gave him hope. Now that he was out, he needed to ditch his prison orange. It made him stand out, an easy target that others could recognize and identify him with. If Kathleen hadn’t gone to get the go-bag, then there might be a change of clothes and shoes waiting for him.

He began to change course and head for the warehouse. It was worth a shot. He hoped Lady Luck continued to favor him.

* * *

Max had never seen Chicago so dead before. The city had always been gritty, even dangerous at times, but now it felt as if it had completely lost its luster. Before, street vendors and bustling pedestrians, or even bikers swerving through honking traffic, had erased some of the Midwest bleakness. Now, the nearly empty streets unnerved Max. The silence made his breathing sound unusually loud. His footsteps seemed to ring in the air.

What had happened here? It felt as though the whole world had suddenly stopped existing. Still, he couldn’t risk being caught. Max unbuttoned the top of his orange jumpsuit and pushed it down to his waist. He had to ensure that the black MCC logo and his inmate number printed on the back weren’t visible. Sweat dotted his white undershirt as he tied the sleeves around his waist. It was all he could do until he found different clothes.

He wondered how long he’d been running. An hour? Early evening coated the sky in pink and blue hues. The prison still loomed behind him like a spire sticking into the sky, but it felt less oppressive the further away he got from it. His lungs ached from running and his heart thundered with adrenaline, but he couldn’t stop.

Soon, he began to spot familiar markers as he moved through the neighborhoods. When he finally spotted the derelict structure of Levi’s Warehouse, he let out a sigh of relief. The building had seen better days, which was exactly the reason why Max had picked it. As he let himself in the front door, he remembered meeting a cartel member for the first time there in the warehouse lobby. He’d seen the Virginia is for Lovers sticker on an old cabinet nailed to the wall and had laughed out loud. Back then, it felt like a sign. Fate, even. Later, when he’d decided he needed to plan in the event he had to leave the country, it was the first place he thought of to stash his go-bag.

A new second-hand clothing store had opened up in the warehouse, labeled as The Vintage Boutique. It was now shuttered. Otherwise, not much had changed. Max snorted when he walked past the store, his eyes on the cabinet that now felt like the holy grail. The sticker was still there.

“Please, please, please,” he muttered as he yanked the cabinet door open.

Nothing. Nothing but an empty shelf.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he whispered as he stared inside. Kathleen must have taken the go-bag. Did she take it just to humor him? Was she shocked when she discovered the weapon wedged in the bag between his jeans and his sneakers?

He couldn’t think about that now. The bag was gone. He had to find a different way to get rid of his prison orange. He closed the door and looked around before making his way carefully to the boutique’s glass door. Peering inside, he saw a variety of women’s clothes, shoes, and bags stylistically arranged.

He tested the door and found it opened easily. Running his finger down the doorframe, he saw that the lock had been busted. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one looking for a new set of clothes. Someone had broken into the store before him.

The door squeaked as he opened it further. For a moment, he stood breathless in the doorway, torn with indecision. He didn’t want to steal from this place—adding to the list of his crimes—but did he really have a choice? Escaping prison would tack on years of incarceration all on its own. Taking from a second-hand shop seemed like a drop in the bucket at this point.

He eased inside and closed the door behind him. He passed by sequined skirts and a selection of high heels before finally identifying a tiny men’s section near the back of the store.

“Bingo,” he said.

As he rummaged through it, he pulled out a pair of jeans that looked to be his size. He ripped off the jumpsuit and slipped the pants on. Then he abandoned the white undershirt in favor of a black t-shirt. He also found a casual plaid button-up and slipped it on. A little more digging revealed a jacket that was slightly too big, but he didn’t mind. As he started rummaging through a selection of men’s shoes, he heard a familiar squeak.

He froze. Someone was opening the door.

He shoved a pair of tennis shoes on his feet and ducked behind the racks as he heard voices fill the room.

“We really need to get out of the city,” a man grumbled. Max heard the shelves being rifled through. He held his breath and hoped no one heard him.

“I know,” a female voice answered. “I just need a change of clothes. If we’re heading north, I’m going to need something warm.”

“I can’t believe we’re stealing,” the man hissed.

Max shifted into a more comfortable position and froze when he brushed up against the coats. They caused a quiet shushing sound to fill the room. Max cursed silently. Silence descended.

“Who’s there?” the female said, her voice sharp. “I know you’re there. Show yourself!”

Max stood up with his palms out. “Hi,” he said, trying to be sound friendly. “Weird day, isn’t it?”

The man chuckled. The woman shot him an angry look. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Same thing you are, I bet,” Max said and made the clothes rustle against each other again. “Change of clothes.”

“Our house was raided,” the female said, sounding defensive. “What are we supposed to do? The world has gone to hell. Our friends stole all of our food and water and burned the rest of our belongings. At this point, stealing is surviving.”

The man snorted. “I can’t believe how everyone has turned on each other. Even our neighbors. They wouldn’t let us inside their house, for god’s sake. What’s your story?”

Max tried not to move as he let the conversation wash over him. The world ending? People looting regularly? What had happened since he’d been imprisoned? “Same,” he said.

The woman’s eyes narrowed and she eyed him up and down. “There’s a couple guards looking for an escaped prisoner. We ran into them not too far from here. Know anything about that?”

Max kicked the prison orange under the hangers in an attempt to hide it, and looked back at the clothes on the rack, pretending to peruse them. “Nope. Good to know, though. Thanks for the heads up. Maybe we’ll just keep this conversation to ourselves. Don’t want us all to be caught for stealing.”

The couple whispered to each other as if trying to decide what to do. He heard clothes being pushed around and the scrape of hangers sliding over metal bars. He winced and hoped that the woman wouldn’t have reason to come closer to this section of the store. He looked around for something to defend himself with and wondered how threatening he would look if he lobbed a pair of stilettos at them.

“Ah, maybe you’re right,” the woman said. The sound of clothes being pulled off hangers filled the room after a moment of awkward silence. “Okay. I think we’re good.”

“You’re taking three coats?” the man asked in a whisper.

“Of course,” the woman said. “Who knows when I’ll get the chance to get more clothes again? With everyone squabbling for even socks, this place is a gold mine.”

“We should check out the rest of the warehouse,” the man said, “and see if there are any other things we’ll need.”

“Good idea,” the woman said and looked back at Max. “Good luck to you. Even if we didn’t see you here.”

“Ditto,” Max said.

The door squeaked again. Max was suddenly alone. Relief washed over him. That had been way too close. He slung a backpack over his shoulders and eased to the front of the store. Looking out into the hallway, he didn’t see the couple. He snuck through the door and felt worried about leaving his jumpsuit in a pile on the floor. It was one link to where he’d been, but he didn’t want to go back and retrieve it. As soon as he bolted outside, he began to walk in the direction of the interstate.

If the world had really gone to hell, then it was only a matter of time before Colin and his friends got out of prison and sent someone after him. He knew they’d never let him go that easily.

Where should he go? Desperately, he thought about running to Galena to find safety with his sister at the hotel. Hide there. Enjoy the small pleasures of life with his family. But doing so would bring danger to their door. Just thinking about Kathleen when he’d been arrested—her anger and disappointment—hurt more than he’d expected. The way she tried to smile through her fear and tears when he’d last seen her had nearly broken his heart. He’d had to show her a side of himself he’d wanted to keep hidden: the reckless Max with a streak of cruelty that was only tempered by his enormous love for his family. The way he used to be able to get away with anything with the right amount of coercion. She knew he’d been like that when they were young, but now that they were older, he wanted to be friends with her instead of just her jailbird brother that she avoided talking about.

What if he showed up at her house and she wouldn’t let him inside? He’d lurk around the hotel like a stray, pleading for shelter, food, and scraps of attention, praying she didn’t see him as the black spot on their family. That he was unwanted. He’d make all kinds of promises: I won’t do it again, I was wrong, I didn’t know what I was doing, I made a mistake.

Please forgive me, Kathy. Please, please, please.

He closed his eyes, wishing he had a drink of water. He remembered the way Kathleen had grabbed his hand on her last visit. The alarm on her face when she’d recognized one of his enemies staring at him in the visitor’s lounge. Even though she’d been disappointed in him, she knew he was in trouble and he’d had to shake it off, tell her it was no big deal, even though he’d feared for his life.

He might as well take the chance and throw himself on her mercy. Await her judgement. If he’d lost her respect, fine. That was to be expected. If he’d lost her love…well, better to know it now, at the end of the world.

He tasted metal in the back of his throat. Twilight had settled into a dark wash of blue-black. Stars twinkled above him. He took a deep breath of fresh air, infinitely better than the recycled air in the prison, and began to plot his course for the River Rock Hotel.

8

Even though Matthew had dreamed of normalcy ever since he walked out of an antique shop and found his truck dead, it still felt strange to wake up and find himself in an actual bed—his own bed. The covers were pulled up tight around his shoulders, and the pillow cradled his head in just the right way. If he kept his eyes shut, he could imagine that the last week had never happened. He could pretend that the shotgun propped against the wall didn’t belong to him. That he could get up, stretch, and walk to the bathroom where the lights would work and he wouldn’t have to worry about the toilet not flushing or conserving water.

He barely remembered falling asleep. He’d had to coax Kathleen to bed the night before. She hadn’t said much, even when he tried to get her to open up about the vote to keep Jade around. They both shared the same dissatisfaction with the outcome, but for some reason, it felt like a wall had been erected between them. Gently, he’d asked her to tell him about her trip from Chicago. Instead, she’d curled herself into a ball with her back to him. He’d assumed she’d fallen asleep before he crashed himself.

Now, he tried to sense if she was still in bed with him and realized he slept alone.

Opening his eyes took monumental strength of will. He blinked at the dawn cascading through the windows and saw a dark shape blocking one side of a window. Kathleen stood close to the glass, most of her cast in shadow, except for her profile. She rubbed her thumb back and forth across her lower lip as though she were deep in thought.

Matthew eased out of bed and approached her carefully, suddenly worried he might spook her as though she were a cornered animal about to strike at the smallest provocation. Slowly, he put his hands on her shoulders and rubbed them. This close, he could see the dark circles under her eyes. Her face seemed gaunt. The rest of her appeared haggard, as though she’d barely rested before taking up this strange vigil beside the window. At his touch, her eyes fluttered. She let out a soft sigh as though coming back to reality. Yet she never stopped staring out the window.

“Did you sleep?” Matthew whispered.

“I couldn’t,” she said. “Someone is out there.”

Matthew stopped rubbing her shoulders and felt a ping of concern race through him. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Kathleen’s thumb scraped over her lower lip again and she gestured out the window. “I saw someone watching the hotel from the woods.”

“Where?” he asked, leaning forward to get a better look. Her statements made him feel uncertain and on his guard.

“There.” She pointed toward the tree line. “You can’t see them anymore, but I watched them all night. I don’t know what they want, but I think they’re planning to attack us.”

Matthew’s uneasiness intensified. He slowly wrapped his arms around Kathleen’s waist and pulled her against his chest. Her whole body felt tense. He put his chin on the top of her shoulder. “I don’t see anyone,” he said softly. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“They didn’t do anything threatening. You needed to rest, but it’s creepy that they’re just watching us. They’re there, Matt.” Kathleen sounded defensive.

“I believe you,” he said, and tried to make it sound convincing. “I’ll go outside and check.”

“I had to make sure they didn’t come any closer,” Kathleen said, her defensive tone escalating with frustration. “I had to make sure we were safe.”

“I know,” Matthew said and rubbed her arms again. He studied the tree line, looking for any sign of movement. Anything that might look out of place. Instead, he saw green buds beginning to flourish on the tree branches. Spring had arrived and had brought the beginning greenery of new life with it. He peered harder, trying to see what Kathleen saw, but he only saw beautiful foliage shedding the winter and the sharp mountain vistas that had drawn him here in the first place. “I promise, I’ll look at every nook and cranny.” He pulled away from her. “I’m getting dressed, but let me know if you see them again.”

Kathleen didn’t respond and instead crossed her arms. Her hands stroked her elbows as though trying to self-soothe. As Matthew pulled on his jeans, he felt a strange tug of loneliness inside of him. He and Kathleen had never had problems talking to each other before. They’d always been best friends who shared every inner thought. The fact that she seemed so guarded from him hurt in an unexpected way. Somehow, he needed to get her to open up about her experiences. Something had happened to her that she was scared to tell him.

Either that, or she’d become scared of him. He hoped that wasn’t the case. He didn’t want her to be fearful of him in any way.

He couldn’t push her. She needed time to process whatever had happened to her. He had to trust that Kathleen would come to him on her own terms.

“I’m going to go downstairs,” he said, once he was fully dressed. He waited, but again, she didn’t respond. “Are you coming?” he asked.

Kathleen shook her head. “I’ll be down soon,” she said, sounding far away.

Matthew waited a moment, hoping she would change her mind. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“I just need some time alone,” Kathleen said.

Matthew sighed. “Okay. I’ll see you later, then.” Concern filled him again as he walked out of their bedroom. Don’t push her. Even so, he couldn’t help but say, “I love you.”

As he headed downstairs, he heard the familiar movements of his family. The soft tones of his father and mother filtered through the air. He passed them sitting at one of the big tables in the dining room. Their heads were bent together in deep conversation. He smiled wistfully but snuck by them. He didn’t want to disturb them. That was the kind of intimacy he hoped he would once again have with Kathleen.

He walked to the front door, paused, and with a stab of uneasiness wondered where Jade might be. He couldn’t be concerned about her at all hours of the day. It would eventually drive him insane, but he couldn’t help but wonder if she was the mysterious person Kathleen had seen. Was Jade taking stock of their property? Assessing it for weaknesses? Perhaps she was working with another group and had infiltrated them in the attempt to take the hotel from them. For a moment, he felt breathless with fear. Then he shook the thoughts away, packaging them up so that he could think more clearly. First things first. He had to have proof and evidence. The only way he could get that was to walk outside and see if he saw any sign of an intruder.

The morning was chilly, but the sunlight provided a welcome warmth. He tried to close the broken door behind him with a frustrated sigh. Samuel West had damaged it when he’d kicked it in. It would have to be one of the first things they repaired.

He walked down the porch and toward the tree line. Halfway between the woods and the hotel, he looked back over his shoulder toward the window of his and Kathleen’s room. The window looked dark and the room somewhat unwelcoming. He didn’t see Kathleen’s figure standing there any longer. He gave the window a wave, just in case she was there, and turned back around to walk closer to the tree line.

He didn’t see anything unusual. The pines swayed in the breeze. The tall grasses rustled back and forth. Moss grew on some of the bigger boulders. Pursing his lips, he bent closer to the ground to scan for footprints or tracks. The hard earth hadn’t been disturbed. Nothing looked out of place.

Maybe she had seen a wild animal. He looked up to study the branches and grasses for a sign of animal hide or hair that might have gotten snagged. Nothing. The place felt idyllic. If this were any other day, he might make himself a cup of coffee and come out here to reflect. With a shrug of resignation, he turned back around and walked toward the house. He couldn’t let these worries eat at him. Hopefully, the rest of the family was awake and they could make a plan for the day.

When he finally got back inside the hotel and into the dining room, he saw that Ruth had laid out a sparse breakfast on the big table. Dry cereal had been set out beside a bunch of bananas that looked more brown than yellow.

“Good morning,” she said to him with a smile, and nestled a cup of warm coffee into his hands. He breathed a sigh of relief when he smelled the steam rising from the mug. Taking a quick sip, his pleasure soured. The coffee was bitter, and he could see grounds swirling in it. They must have tried to make it without a coffee maker, he thought, but gave his mother a smile anyway. “It’s delicious. Thank you,” he said.

She scoffed. “I’m not sure about that, but it’s the thought that counts. Sit down. The kids are up. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

Matthew pulled out the chair at the head of the table and sank into it. He took another sip of coffee with a grimace. Maybe it would get better the more he drank.

Allison stumbled into the room with dark circles under eyes and slumped in a chair next to him. As if still asleep, she reached for the Lucky Charms and poured some into a bowl. Not long after, Patton followed, looking much more chipper than his sister. He spoke amiably to Jade, who’d followed him into the room. Matthew couldn’t focus on the conversation, and so he finished his cup of coffee as Patton sat down next to Allison.

Jade glanced at him nervously before being pulled back into Patton’s rambling conversation. Matthew watched her reach for a banana and begin to peel it slowly. Allison looked at Matthew, gestured toward Patton with her thumb, and rolled her eyes.

“He’s always been a morning person,” Matthew said in response to her wordless irritation.

“An enthusiastic morning person,” Allison grumbled.

Ruth and David finally emerged and sat across from their grandchildren. For a moment, Matthew gazed at his family as love rose in his chest. It was the perfect family gathering, except that Kathleen was missing. He hoped she’d gone back to bed. Maybe, if she got some rest, she would feel better and would talk to him.

Ruth peeled a banana and looked around, noticing Kathleen’s absence as well. “Where’s Kathleen?” she asked, looking at Matthew.

Matthew poured some cereal into a bowl for himself and avoided her eyes. “She’s having a rough morning,” he said and hoped his mother would leave it at that. “She wasn’t able to sleep last night, not after everything that had happened. I wanted to let her rest a while longer. She’ll be down later, I promise.”

Jade looked ashamed. Ruth nodded in agreement and bit off a small chunk of the banana. Matthew felt grateful that she dropped the subject and began to eat his cereal. It tasted bland without milk. As everyone finished their meal, he cleared his throat and said, “I wanted to talk with you all about how we should approach the day. There are a lot of tasks for us to do. I think if we divvy up the work, it might not feel so overwhelming. If we split up, we can get the most done in the least amount of time.”

Ruth and David nodded in agreement. Jade said softly, “That’s a good idea.”

Irritation filled Matthew. He couldn’t help but think Jade was agreeing with him just to stay on his good side. He decided it would be best to ignore her. For some reason, he was beginning to feel as though she were to blame for Kathleen’s behavior. If she wasn’t here, Kathleen might act more normal. His wife might have felt safer. He brushed off the thought before it began to poison him.

“Mom, I think it would be a great idea if you could inventory our food supplies,” he said, turning to look at Ruth. “Since you’ve been here from the beginning of this whole debacle, I’m assuming you probably have a good idea of where everything is and what we do and don’t have.”

“I’d love to,” Ruth agreed and nibbled on some cereal.

“Could you make a list of everything we have in the kitchen and pantry? Then we’ll know how long the food we do have will last and can figure out what we will eventually need to get. I’m sure Kathleen can help you when she’s up.”

“Of course. That’s a task that is right up my alley,” she said.

Matthew smiled. “Thank you, Mom.” He turned to look at Patton and Allison. “As for you two, I think it would be good for you to canvass the hotel rooms.”

Patton groaned. “Dad, Grandma and I already cleaned the rooms. I don’t want to do it again.”

“I don’t mean like that,” Matthew said. “I’d like you to go through the rooms to see if you can find anything useful.”

“Like what?” Patton perked up.

“Like mini sewing kits. First aid kits. Soaps, toothbrushes, toothpaste, anything that you and Allison think would be helpful or have a purpose. Think of it like a treasure hunt.”

Patton turned to look at Allison with wide eyes. “We should start in the cellar.”

Allison grunted a negation. “That’s not part of the hotel rooms, dummy.”

“But it hasn’t been explored yet!”

“Don’t fight over it,” Matthew said. He felt as though Allison was a bomb with a very short fuse. “Use your imagination. Have fun with it.”

Allison crossed her arms and looked at her cereal, picking out and eating the marshmallows. Concern filled Matthew. Usually his daughter had a bit more fight in her. A bit more life in her. She was beginning to look listless, as if all her energy had been sapped. He’d have to question her after breakfast.

He looked to his father. “Dad, I think you and I should survey the grounds. We can get a sense of what we need to do to better defend ourselves. Maybe we can find spare materials to construct a gate. I think it would be a good idea to really understand the property limits and where we should start to fortify the place.”

Before David could respond, Jade cleared her throat. “What can I do?” she asked.

Matthew paused. He wanted to blame her for everything that was going wrong. He wanted to demand that she admit that she was outside earlier, that she was acting like a ghost and trying to scare Kathleen. He bit his lip, and tried to force the explosive feelings away, but the mean streak refused to leave.

If Jade wanted to stay, then she could prove her worth.

“There’s a shovel in the back shed,” he said. “Why don’t you get it and start digging a latrine? We’ll need it since the toilets stopped pumping in water for us to flush.”

She won’t do it, Matthew thought. She knows I’m testing her. There’s no way she’ll do something like that. She’ll give up and leave.

Jade paused for a moment and then tightened her ponytail. “Actually, I wondered if we might consider making a composting toilet instead.”

Matthew couldn’t help but laugh at himself. He was being a jerk and Jade was taking it in stride.

“How would we do that?” David asked.

“We would need sawdust. Essentially, you put the sawdust in a bucket and then put that bucket inside a latrine. Then, when it’s full, the sawdust can be composted. It’s much more sustainable.”

“What would we do with the compost?” Patton chimed in.

“Most likely use it in a garden,” Jade said.

“That’s so gross!” Patton said.

“We might even be able to use it to trade,” Jade continued. “The soil would be really rich. Others might be looking for something like that. I’m not sure how good the soil is around here, but it might be a commodity.”

Patton uttered a loud belly laugh. “You want us to trade our own poop?”

“Patton,” Matthew admonished. “Behave.”

“That’s smart,” David mused. “How did you learn about that?”

“I read it in one of the books in the hotel’s library,” Jade said. “I couldn’t sleep last night either, so I went exploring. I found the library full of books that might be useful to us.”

Surprise filled Matthew. He’d forgotten about the tucked-away library. “I can’t believe I forgot about that,” he said out loud.

“It’s not a big deal,” Jade said, as if apologizing for his oversight. “There’s lots of books about the local flora and fauna. A couple about the history and folklore of the area. You know, the stuff most hotels have for their guests to get a sense of the area.”

“Thinking outside the box,” David said and tapped his temple. “Good on you.” He gave Matthew a meaningful look, and Matthew fought the urge to roll his eyes. Yes, okay, Jade has some good skills. Don’t rub it in, he thought.

“I’d forgotten all about those old books too,” Ruth murmured. “Maybe when we’ve finished up our chores for the day, we can divvy up the books for everyone to look through. There’s got to be more information that we will find useful. Jade’s already given us a way to improve the place.”

Jade ducked her head, as if Ruth’s praise had made her shy.

“If you don’t mind, Matt, I’d like to learn more about the composting toilet,” David said. “Would you mind if I skip out on assessing the property line with you?”

Matthew studied his father for a moment, unsure what to say. He’d wanted to talk with David one-on-one about Kathleen and Allison. The property line survey seemed like the perfect time to do so, but he understood that David might be keen on keeping an eye on Jade.

“You don’t really need to do that task with me, Matt,” David added. “But if you’d like me to join, I will.”

“I think you should work with Jade,” Ruth seconded. “I don’t want you to overstress your heart. It will be good for you to get out and learn, but not to dig. Let the young ones do that.”

David let out a long-suffering sigh. Matthew mentally smacked himself. He’d been so focused on his own problems and wanting to talk them out with his father that he hadn’t taken into consideration David’s heart. It was foolish of him to suggest that David accompany him. David had been through so much already.

“That sounds like a good plan,” he finally said. “But, Dad, if your chest hurts you have to rest.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Jade said, and gave a sharp nod to Matthew.

Matthew grudgingly gave her a nod back in agreement.

“I’m not a child,” David grumbled and began to stack their used cereal bowls. “I don’t need to be watched.”

“Not sure about that, old man,” Jade said.

“Just watch out for each other,” Matthew said and put his cereal bowl in the pile. Ruth shooed David away and picked up the dishes, heading for the kitchen. David and Jade stood and the two of them began to head for the back door.

“I’m gonna grab my backpack,” Patton said, “so I can bring back all the treasure we find.” He bolted up the stairs toward his bedroom.

Matthew stood up and pushed his chair in. Allison hadn’t budged from her spot. She poked at the remaining cereal. He touched her shoulder gently. “Can I talk to you?” he asked. “Outside?”

She glanced at him as if still in a daze and then slowly got out of her chair to follow him. She moved as if she were doing things against her will and all she really wanted to do was lie down and sleep. “What is it?” she asked.

Matthew motioned her outside and shut the broken front door behind them. Standing on the porch, he studied his daughter and didn’t like what he saw. “I wanted to ask you about your journey here. You learned a lot about what Grandpa and I went through yesterday. But how was yours? Did anything happen?”

Allison refused to meet his eyes. She shifted from side to side. “I don’t feel like talking about it,” she said. “You should just ask Mom.”

“I tried to,” he said and leaned in to try to catch her gaze. “She said she didn’t feel like talking, either.”

“Well, there’s your answer.” Allison kicked the toe of her shoe against the floor. “If anything important happened, Mom would’ve said something.”

Once Matthew had felt concern about his daughter, but now it transformed into alarm. Allison was retreating further inside herself. She felt so out of his reach. “Honey, you know you can confide in me,” he said. “If something happened, I’m here for you. For whatever you need. But I need to know what happened to you and your mother.”

“Mom will tell you,” Allison repeated.

Matthew was about to push her more when Patton burst through the front door. He bounded down the steps with his backpack slung over his shoulder. “Allison, what are you waiting for?” he demanded. “Let’s go.”

“I gotta go,” Allison mumbled to Matthew. “I’m sure we’ll be back with weird stuff instead of things that are actually helpful.”

Matthew didn’t smile, even though he knew she was pretending to be her old self. “You can talk to me whenever, you know,” he said, hoping this last bit of reassurance would help her open up. “It can stay between us.”

“I know,” Allison said. Her tone didn’t inspire much confidence.

“Okay, then,” Matthew said and looked at Patton who was watching their exchange with interest. “Listen to your sister, Patton. Don’t fill that bag full of rocks or dead insects or something.”

Patton began to list off reasons why dead insects were helpful while Matthew walked off the porch and toward the property line. “No bugs!” he shouted over his shoulder and turned back toward the tree line.

Better get started.

* * *

As Matthew reached the tree line, he felt a moment of calm wash over him. Finally, he had a moment to himself where he wasn’t worrying over his children or his father, or concerned with Kathleen’s aloof attitude. It was just him and nature.

Birdsong and the chirping of insects filled the air. He looked up to watch big fluffy clouds float by. The mountains looked like a touchstone in the distance. Immovable. Always there, even when the things he’d once thought were immobile had disappeared. As he walked around the property’s edge, he began to make notes and look for flat spots of earth that would be a good place for a garden.

This was something he would never have done before. He’d most likely have been too busy setting up the hotel with social media accounts and calculating profit versus loss on promotional costs. Assessing the property would be something he would have hired someone else to do. It would have been a task that took too much of his precious time.

Now, it was one of the most important things he needed to do. He felt as though he were connecting with the land in a way. Surveying what was his and what was part of the wilderness. It filled him with a certain kind of pride.

The old fence mainly acted as a property marker. Still, the posts seemed strong, if a bit weather-worn. He didn’t notice any rot. They could also cut down some of the trees, or perhaps make use of their branches, if they needed wood. It would help them fix the door and reinforce the fence to make it stronger and sturdier.

A secondary shed stood apart from the main house, near the back of the property. Matthew knew it was where the lawn maintenance tools used to be kept, back when the hotel had a full staff with gardeners.

The door was stiff when he tried to open it, but finally he was able to push his way inside. The shed was dim and full of dust, but a big riding lawn mower sat in the middle, covered with a sheet of rough burlap. He figured the mower was most likely dead. Puttering around the shed, Matthew was happy to find canisters half-full of fuel. He mused that the mower might also have diesel inside of it that he could siphon if needed.

He also found shears, a rake, a shovel, and a myriad of other gardening and landscaping tools. That would be helpful for when they got the garden off the ground. He decided to leave the tools where they were since they’d been safe for this long in the shed.

He left the shed and continued to take stock of the fence. In the distance, the log sides of the hotel looked golden-blonde in the sunlight. The hotel appeared smaller from this angle, and Matthew finally realized how large the property actually was. When he’d bought the hotel, the acreage had just been numbers and a calculated cost. He never really had a full grasp of how much land they’d purchased. He’d known, logically, but he hadn’t known in the way that showed experience.

Thus, it would be easy for anyone to slink onto the property. That morning, he had thought Kathleen a bit paranoid and seeing things. Yet now that he realized that anyone could sneak on and off without them noticing, it suddenly made him worried.

He couldn’t hear birdsong anymore. The buzzing bugs had gone momentarily silent. A chill ran up his spine. Who knew what kind of people were moving around the property undetected? Who knew who might be watching him right now?

It made more sense that Kathleen had seen someone. It scared him that she hadn’t said that person had left. His skin began to crawl. He began to walk faster, looking over his shoulder. He couldn’t shake the notion that the hotel had a target painted on it and that soon people would be arriving to take it from them. He forced himself to finish his rounds and then made a beeline back toward the hotel. David and Jade were surveying a portion of land near the house. When David saw him, he raised his hand in hello.

As Matthew got closer to the hotel, the feeling of being watched faded. He saw that the root cellar door against the foundation of the house had been thrown wide open. The excited voices of his children floated up from inside it. Yet the fear that had haunted him from his outing made him imagine that their excitement was actually shouts for help. He ran up to the cellar and shouted inside, “Allison? Patton? Are you okay?”

Scuffles. Loud footsteps on a ladder. Allison’s head popped up out of the door. Dirt was streaked across her cheeks, but it seemed that the life was back in her eyes. “Dad,” she said, “you won’t believe what we found.”

“Actual buried treasure?” he asked.

She grinned. “Even better.” She looked past him and said, “Grandpa, you’re gonna love this.”

David shared her smile. “I can’t wait.”

Matthew eased into the cellar, descending the ladder steps carefully. David followed him. When Matthew was fully inside, he blinked in the dim light of the room and his mouth opened in surprise. A long workbench filled the room. Old open plastic containers full of different sized nails and bits had been lined up on one side of the bench. On the other side were hammers, a measuring tape, and screwdrivers. Hand saws, axes, and bigger hammers were perched on hooks along the wall. An awl and plane sat in one corner next to a pile of scrap wood.

“What the…” Matthew trailed off.

“Whoever owned this place before must’ve been a woodworker,” Patton said, as he unrolled a set of blueprints. He looked thrilled, as if his chore had truly turned into finding gold.

David gasped beside Matthew. He pushed past and went to the bench and began inspecting other items. “Wow,” David said, “this is amazing. There’s a tumbler here so we can collect our used bullet shells and clean them to reuse them. I think if I can figure out some of this equipment, we’ll be able to make our own bullets even.”

Matthew came closer and peered at the items on the workbench. “Don’t you need gunpowder, though?” he asked. “I don’t know much about making bullets, but wouldn’t that be dangerous to have?”

David frowned. “I don’t see gunpower either.” He looked around and his frown melted away. “Look, though, there’s rock salt over there.”

Matthew followed his line of sight and saw the bags propped up against the wall. “What does that mean?” he asked. “That we’ll be able to keep our driveway ice-free during the winter?”

“No,” David said, looking excited. “We can use rock salt in the shotgun cartridges. It will ruin the gun in the long run, but if we pack the salt in carefully, it will work in a pinch or in an emergency. It will be great for defending ourselves when our actual bullets run out.”

Matthew’s elation at their find suddenly disappeared. He hadn’t quite realized that bullets were a finite resource. It wasn’t like he could go down to the store and pick up more. His mood darkened when he thought of all the things that he’d once counted on that would soon be useless. Soon, he’d have a gun that couldn’t shoot. He’d have a toilet that wouldn’t flush. He’d have a refrigerator that wouldn’t cool. All these appliances. Suddenly useless.

He took a deep breath and tried not to feel overwhelmed. Patton watched him with a pinched expression on his face. “Dad?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

Matthew plastered a smile on his face. “Of course I am. Patton, this is better than buried treasure. Better than dead things. Better than insects.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Patton said, and turned back to uncover what else the cellar had in store for them.

9

Kathleen remembered the moment she saw the man watching the hotel from the tree line.

Nightmares had left her tossing and turning until she finally got up to get a drink of water. She had paused to look out the window and marvel at the bright shine of stars and moonlight lighting up the hotel property. It had been so long since she’d taken the time to enjoy the night sky, and now that there wasn’t any electricity drowning out the natural light, the whole world seemed transformed. It was then that she saw movement along the property’s edge.

Terror had rushed through her and had left her paralyzed. She’d stood there, gripping an empty bottle of water, and listening to the rapid thump of her heart. For a moment, she wondered if the man could be a deer or even a rabbit, but then the grasses shifted again. Moonlight illuminated a clear shape. It was a man.

She couldn’t see much else of him. Just the bow-legged stance and a face obscured by shadows. He’d paced along the tree line, but he never actually crossed onto the property. Kathleen didn’t know what he was waiting for. Was he looking for someone? Jade, perhaps?

She considered waking Matthew up, but from the deep rumble of his snores, she knew he was fast asleep. He needed his rest for what was to come. She’d bitten her lip and decided that she would wait, watch, and sound an alarm if the man took one step closer. She had to keep her family safe, and if this was the best way to do it, so be it.

Kathleen didn’t know how long she stood next to the window. All she knew was that her world became a smear of time where the stars were suddenly replaced with a rose-pink dawn. As the sun crested the mountains, the man slipped away into the woods and didn’t return. Then, suddenly, Matthew had his hands on her shoulders and was asking if she’d been awake all night. Blearily, she realized that was the truth.

He promised he would look into what she’d seen. She believed him, even though she harbored a startling worry that he might proclaim her crazy and dismiss her. Exhaustion pulled at her when he finally left to go downstairs. That exhaustion turned into relief when she saw him walk out the front door and head toward the trees.

She hated how she felt so awkward around Matthew now. In some dark corner of her mind, she knew that she wasn’t the woman he had fallen in love with anymore. If he knew what she had done…he wouldn’t love her anymore. She had lost so much just to get back home; she didn’t think she could survive losing her husband.

She sat on the bed and then lay down. Her eyes fluttered closed. She would bury these feelings. She would box up the memories of what she had been through and never let them out. When sleep came, it was fitful. When she woke back up again, she realized hardly any time had passed at all.

Walking back to the window, she watched as Matthew left the house again and headed toward the property line. Allison and Patton stepped off the porch and around to the other side of the house. David and Jade walked slowly by and pointed to various parts of the property as if surveying something. And still the sensation of feeling unsafe lingered inside of Kathleen. The tight knot of anxiety inside her wouldn’t loosen.

If she stayed in this room any longer, she might explode. The outside world was full of dangers she couldn’t anticipate. Her skin felt too tight. She started to think that there might be something lurking in the closet. When she went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, all she could see was Andrew Lang’s face. With a shudder, she dressed and went downstairs, determined not to isolate herself anymore. Even those few simple tasks felt monumental, like they’d taken most of her energy to accomplish.

Downstairs, the hotel was quiet. With everyone outside doing chores to keep the hotel safe, the place seemed suspended in time, waiting for the next onslaught of life to happen. She maneuvered down to the kitchen and was relieved to hear soft humming coming from it. The clanking of appliances, glass jars hitting a countertop, and the soft shuffle of feet moving across a tiled floor also filled her ears.

Taking a deep breath, she walked inside and saw her mother-in-law moving around the kitchen with ease. A fire was lit on the propane stove and a stainless-steel pot was on top of that. She peered inside it and saw four mason jars in a shallow layer of water.

“Water bath canning,” Ruth said as an explanation. “I’m trying a new method. Who knows if it will work?”

A pad of paper sat on the counter. Ruth picked up a pencil and ticked something off on it. Kathleen gazed at the cut-up tomatoes and spices. “Are you making salsa?” she asked.

Ruth looked somewhat bashful. “I wasn’t sure what else to do with the tomatoes,” she said. “They weren’t going to last another day.” Ruth’s face relaxed into a soft smile. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

Kathleen suddenly felt defensive. The question made her seem as though she were ill, or perhaps as if she might fly off the handle at a moment’s notice. “I’m fine,” she said tightly. “Where is everyone?”

“Matt is out checking the property line,” Ruth said, pulling out more mason jars and trying to find their corresponding lids. “Allison and Patton are inventorying other useful goods that they might find around the hotel. David and Jade are searching for a good spot to set up a composting toilet. I’m making an inventory of our food. Feel like lending me a hand?”

Kathleen forced herself to give a thin-lipped smile. “Of course. I need to pull my weight.”

“Eat first,” Ruth said, handing her the last banana on the counter.

Kathleen studied the fruit for a moment, feeling lost, until her stomach growled. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until then. She peeled it apart to find the fruit sweet, if somewhat mushy. As she ate, she looked at what else Ruth had laid out, but her attention was caught by the drying meat in one corner of the kitchen. She let out a soft noise of surprise and got closer to it. Strips of meat hung from hooks and twine along angled poles of wood. Other strips were draped over the poles so that they could easily be smoked. The meat looked good and surprisingly free of rot.

“All Patton’s idea,” Ruth said from behind her. “He told me he learned it from a classmate.”

“And he retained all that information?” Kathleen asked. “He must have a crush.”

Ruth grinned. “I think so.”

“How much meat is dehydrating?”

“About ten pounds,” Ruth said. “Some of it we will lose, but we’re doing our best.”

“It doesn’t look like ten pounds,” Kathleen said.

“It shrinks a lot,” Ruth said with a shrug.

Kathleen moved away from the meat to look at the other stainless-steel canister that Ruth was working with. Pressure canning. She was a bit more familiar with that. She made a sound of approval at seeing more than a dozen jars lined up and ready to be put away. “You did all this?” she asked.

Ruth nodded. “We had some produce from when we first arrived here. Then I went to the grocery store and took some from a delivery van that had been abandoned down the road.”

Kathleen stilled as Ruth related to her the story of the delivery van and how she’d run into Samuel West. When Ruth finished, Kathleen shook her head in dismay. “I can’t believe the nerve of some people,” she said. “How could Samuel have done that? And put Patton in such danger? He must have been terrified.”

“He did very well,” Ruth said as she continued to cut up the last of the vegetables. “I do worry for him, though.”

“Me too.” Kathleen sighed and clasped her hands. “I’m glad you were here with him. If I was here with all this food, it would have gone to waste. I don’t know the first thing about canning and preserving food.”

Ruth waved off the compliment. “Thank you. I’m just glad I could help in some way. My mother would be rolling in her grave to see that I’m utilizing her old skills. I believe I once told her they were useless.”

Kathleen snorted a laugh. “My mother thought we were insane for buying this place to begin with. She wanted to know what a bunch of city folks thought they were doing trying to live out in the country. Sometimes, I wonder if she was right.”

“Don’t think like that,” Ruth said and handed Kathleen the pad of paper. “Here. Why don’t you help me finish up the inventory? I’ve been putting things into groupings. Things that are perishable and need to be eaten now and things that can last and things that will go stale.”

Kathleen took the pad of paper. “Of course.” She moved toward the pantry and opened it up, finding a bunch of food that seemed to have been placed inside haphazardly. She pulled out everything and made notes on the paper. Soon enough, she couldn’t help but notice with fond exasperation that many of the goods Ruth had picked up were old family favorites. Comfort food. While she’d gotten some rice and noodles, there was also a ton of Lucky Charms, most likely for Allison. Additionally, there were many cans of baked beans that she knew David enjoyed. As Kathleen put them in their appropriate groupings, she wondered if one day her family would be existing only on cereal and beans and how awful it would be. She could barely stomach all the sugar in Lucky Charms as it was. Gave her heartburn.

As she emptied out the pantry, she frowned. They had far less food than she’d expected. Clearing her throat, she asked Ruth, “I hate to say it, but I think we will run out of food soon. There is no way this will feed all six of us.”

“Seven,” Ruth corrected, even though her attention was on the cans in the water bath. “You forgot Jade.”

“I know how many people are in our family,” Kathleen said archly. “Six. Six mouths to feed.”

Ruth looked up at her and said in a sugar-sweet tone, “Jade has to eat too.”

“But she’s not part of our family,” Kathleen reiterated and flushed. Why did she feel as though Ruth was judging her? Just because she didn’t fall for Jade’s wobbling chin and big green eyes? That didn’t make Kathleen a bad person. Shooting someone point-blank…that made someone a bad person. “Why did you vote for that woman to stay, anyway? After everything that she had done? She doesn’t even seem like it bothers her much.”

Ruth’s mouth pinched as if she took offense at Kathleen’s questions. Kathleen wanted to run back upstairs to her room. She hadn’t meant to sound so snappish, but she honestly wanted to know. If Jade had shot Matthew, Kathleen would have run Jade off the property. There would be no forgiveness in her heart.

Ruth thought for a moment and then sighed. “I don’t quite know,” she said slowly before shaking her head. “Sometimes people just need help. I’ll never understand what drove Jade to kill that man, nor to hurt David, but I understand what it feels like to be cornered. When Samuel was here, there were times I thought about killing him. I worried about my survival and more importantly about Patton. I never brought myself to do it, but if Matthew hadn’t shown up, I might have. I voted for her to stay because that’s what my heart told me to do. I stand by it still. Jade needs support right now. I can only imagine the burden she carries. She feels safe here. There’s no point in chasing her away. She’s trying to do right by us and earn back our respect.”

“She’ll never have my respect,” Kathleen answered. “All she’s serving to do is eat up our resources faster. If we didn’t have to feed her, our food would last that much longer.”

As soon as she said it, Kathleen felt ashamed. At the same time, though, it felt as though if she gave an inch, it would make her look weak and make others question her judgement. She couldn’t be seen as weak. Not when she was part of the brickwork making up this family. She would do everything in her power to protect her family. Jade didn’t have that kind of drive. She was shiftless, a wanderer. She had no purpose except to survive on her own. She had no idea what it was like to put yourself behind the needs of your children.

Kathleen also couldn’t understand how Jade seemed so put together. Kathleen craved that calm, as if killing a man didn’t mean anything at all, or as if her actions to safeguard herself were more important than the life of a cruel man. Kathleen just wanted to be able to look in the mirror again and not see her regrets. It didn’t seem fair that both she and Jade had been in a similar position and yet somehow it was Jade who was outside making the hotel safer, while Kathleen cowered inside and fought off nightmares.

It wasn’t fair.

If Jade was gone, Kathleen wouldn’t have to feel so guilty. She wouldn’t have to feel so…replaceable. So weak.

Ruth didn’t respond to Kathleen and instead tapped her fingers against her cheeks as she evaluated the drying meat. “Do you think I could can the meat?”

Kathleen shrugged and picked at the tomato seeds that Ruth had excluded from her salsa. “Why not?”

“I’ve never done it before. It might save some more meat from spoilage than this method. Should I try it?”

“Knock yourself out,” Kathleen said as she picked up a seed and held it in her hands. “Ruth, what do you think about gardening?”

Ruth chuckled. “Oh, I have a certified black thumb,” she said. “Once, I tried to start an herb garden. I had rosemary and thyme on the windowsill of my first apartment. The plants all died within the month, of mold. Then I tried my hand at squash and zucchini. One of them got this strange white fungus over it. I only ever grew flowers from my zucchini plants. Never any veggies. Then everything just died on me.”

Kathleen laughed. “Same with me. I had a fern in college, and one day I came home and found it withered into this brown husk.” She sighed and held up the tomato seed for Ruth to inspect. “Maybe we should try our hand at it again. Maybe both of our black thumbs might equal one green one. We could plant some of these and see if they would grow.”

Ruth smiled brightly at her. “Kathleen, that’s a wonderful idea. You can water them and put them in soil and then hopefully, they might take root.”

“It’s a long shot,” Kathleen said, feeling a sudden despair overwhelm her. She put the seed back on the counter. “This whole hotel was kind of a long shot too, wasn’t it? So stupid. I don’t even know why we decided to buy a place in the middle of nowhere. I can’t even keep a fern alive. How do I expect to keep a garden healthy? Sometimes I wish we had never left Chicago.”

Ruth rubbed her shoulder. “It wasn’t a stupid decision. This was something we all thought long and hard on. It was a dream that became a reality.”

“This isn’t a dream,” Kathleen said, feeling on the verge of tears. “It’s a nightmare. Not one of us is outdoorsy. Except for maybe David when he was in the Army.”

“That was twenty years ago,” Ruth said.

“Exactly.”

Ruth sighed. “If we were in Chicago, we would be worse off than we are now. At least here, we can all live together comfortably under one roof. We have land that we can learn about. Maybe one of the books in the library can tell us about any edible natural plants around here. We can learn and adapt. We can grow.”

“Library?” Kathleen asked, momentarily at a loss. “Oh, those bookshelves?”

She barely recalled those dusty old books with their outdated cover art and yellowing pages.

“Jade found it,” Ruth said. “She was the one who suggested we make the compostable toilet after reading some of the books.”

Kathleen gritted her teeth. “What a gem,” she said and turned her back on her mother-in-law to study the rest of the goods.

Slowly and methodically, she catalogued everything they had in the kitchen while Ruth set up some meat to pressure cook and can. Then she helped inspect and sterilize the glass mason jars, finding their appropriate tops and organizing them by size for Ruth. She got lost in her own thoughts. A terrible ache clawed at her stomach like a trapped creature trying to get out. Tears stung her eyes, and she tried to hold them back as much as possible. Usually, she and Ruth could carry on a good conversation, but now tension filled the air and made her want to scream. She didn’t even notice or hear Matthew’s voice as he came down the stairs until he was standing right in front of her.

“How’s it going?” he asked and looked at her with those soft eyes that used to make her knees go weak.

She looked down. Her throat felt tight. “It’s good,” she said. “We have enough supplies for a week, maybe two if we can stretch it. Ruth is canning everything that she can.” She looked over to the remains of fat and bone that sat to one side. “Maybe we can try to make a broth or soup out of that,” she suggested.

Ruth’s face brightened. “That’s a great idea. I’ll start on that next.”

Matthew looked at her like she’d just solved world hunger. “You have the best ideas,” he said and leaned in for a kiss.

She dodged to the side without thinking. He let out a soft hurt sound. She reached out and touched his arm in apology. “Our food stocks aren’t going to last,” she said, desperate to erase the moments before.

“We’ll need to think about reaching out to others who live around this mountain,” Ruth chimed in. “We need to make connections with others. Like your father suggested.”

Matthew looked annoyed, and Kathleen watched as he tried to hide his concern for her. “I’d rather wait on that until we get the house better fortified,” he said. “We can talk about it tonight.”

He reached out and touched Kathleen’s hand. She realized he meant they would talk about much more than food, if he had anything to say about it.

“I just don’t know who we can trust,” Matthew finished, meeting Kathleen’s gaze.

She didn’t know either.

10

As Max walked through the empty streets of Chicago, he felt like an imposter. Even though he wore civilian clothes, he still felt out of place. He kept looking over his shoulder, convinced that someone on the street would pass him, pause, and recognize him. That they’d point and call out that he was an escaped convict. That he had the look of a dangerous delinquent and needed to be incarcerated. When he was in prison, he didn’t feel like he belonged, but he never expected that the feeling would follow him out into the real world.

As he continued to walk, he noticed even more abandoned cars blocking the road, as if they’d suddenly come to a standstill while waiting at a red light. He’d barely seen another living soul since his escape. At one point, he’d passed a young couple digging through a dumpster. He’d hightailed it away from them, and they had seemed just as skittish of him.

His stomach growled and he grimaced. At least he had clothes, but if he was going to walk all the way from Chicago to Galena, he needed to find supplies. Especially something to eat. A map so he could chart where he was going. Maybe he’d be able to find a bike or even someone who had a working car that he could hitch a ride with. He’d have to lie to them about who he was, but at this point, something as meaningless as that didn’t bother him. He was already an escaped prisoner. He’d be lying to everyone at this point.

Up ahead, he spotted a corner gas station. He swallowed hard, hating that he would have to shoplift his supplies, but as he got closer he discovered that the shop had already been ransacked. The windows had been smashed in. The door dangled precariously off of one hinge. He eased his way inside, hopeful that something might remain for him. A strange sticky substance coated the floor and stuck to his shoes. The cash register stood open and upon further inspection, he found most of the cash was gone except for a roll of quarters stuck in the far back. He pocketed the money and kept his head down just in case there were cameras watching him. It was an absurd fear, but he still felt grateful for the dark night obscuring his face from anyone who might be watching him.

A small display of lighters sat next to the cash register. He pocketed one of them and then spotted a rotating wire display near the edge of the front counter. Maps sat askew in the metal holders. He picked one up and stuffed it into his bag. After inspecting the rest of the aisles, he didn’t find any food on the empty shelves, but he did discover a first aid kit stuck under one of the shelves. Bending down, he picked it up and was pleased to find that it was still sealed. It must have been flung off the shelves when the gas station was being ransacked, and had been forgotten. He hadn’t found much, but at least it was a solid starting place.

Now, if only he could find something to eat.

He left the gas station quickly and continued on his way. The streetlights were out and when he looked up, he was surprised at how many stars he could see. Soon, he came upon a second bigger gas station. This one seemed to still be somewhat operational, even though the insides were dark and lit by flashlights and candles. When he walked inside, he saw some people picking out items and scoffing at the high prices. He doubted his roll of quarters would go very far.

But at least there was food there.

He meandered up and down the aisles, trying to look frustrated and innocent—as if he couldn’t find what he was looking for and his hopes had been dashed. He scooped up a bag of beef jerky and trail mix and then tossed the remaining Snickers bars from the aisle end cap into his half-opened bag that he had slung over one shoulder. The candy felt misshapen in his hands, as though the chocolate had melted and re-hardened. He began to ease his way toward the drinks when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

His breath caught in his chest. Had someone recognized him? The grip on his shoulder tightened and then whipped him around. His worst fears were confirmed as he stood face to face with the guard he’d betrayed. Eric.

In the dim glow of the candles and flashlights, Eric’s black eyes narrowed in rage. Dark purple and blue bruises covered one side of his forehead. “Is this what you do with your freedom?” Eric hissed. “You piece of convict scum, you nearly give me a concussion and this is what you do? Steal?”

“I’m so sorry,” Max blurted out. He could still hear Eric talking about his son and felt shame redden his cheeks.

“I got fired because of you,” Eric snarled and dropped the shopping basket he held. Candlelight flickered over his cheeks. “I don’t have a way to feed my family because of you.”

“I’m so sorry,” Max repeated. Fear seeped inside of him. “I had to get out. I was going to be killed in there if I didn’t.”

“Then you should have been!” Eric yelled. He lifted his closed fist and cocked his elbow back.

Endless beatings from Colin had made Max no stranger to violence. Eric was going to punch the living daylights out of him. He knew the look. As Eric swung his arm back, Max wrenched sharply back and used his weight to throw off Eric’s punch. Eric’s fist barely grazed Max’s cheek before Max twisted to the side and dislodged the grip Eric had on his shoulder. Dodging a second punch, Max leapt backwards and shoved a display case advertising healthy kale chip options at Eric. Flashlights clattered to the floor. Max snatched one up.

Eric looked thunderous and tried to follow him. “I was trying to be nice to you. What did I get in return? My face smashed in!”

Max backpedaled, and pushed over another display case full of chips. As he did so, he grabbed a package and stuffed it in his bag. It looked like Eric was going to come after him no matter what. If they were going to destroy the store in this fight, he might as well take what he could get. All of his morals had been tossed to the winds, but if Eric got the upper hand, Max would be beaten unconscious and dragged back to prison. He couldn’t let that happen. Stealing food seemed like a drop in the bucket compared to all the bad things he’d done so far. In for a penny, he thought and dodged when Eric lunged for him.

He grabbed a handful of tins displaying salted almonds and threw them at Eric, while stuffing a few in his bag. Eric snarled and tried to ram into him, but Max bolted under his reaching arms and skittered into another aisle. He tried to blind Eric with the flashlight.

“You’re worthless,” Eric shouted as he failed again to grab Max. “Your family must be so ashamed of you.”

That hurt more than Max cared to admit. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he called out to Eric as they played keep-away around a display of bottled water. “I couldn’t let myself die. The rest of the guards were disappearing. I had to get out.” He threw a bottle of water at Eric and piled some into his backpack.

“It’s no wonder you were in prison. Once I drag your sorry ass back, I hope Colin beats you senseless,” Eric said, nearly grabbing Max’s wrist. “At first I thought you were a good guy who’d gotten in way over his head, but now I see you’re just another deadbeat stabbing everyone in the back.”

Max shoved over another display case. A candle caught and guttered out on a candy wrapping. Other customers cried out in surprise at what he’d done. At this point, his bag was becoming really heavy. He darted into another aisle, and realized he’d danced himself into a trap.

He stood in a corner between a line of refrigerated drinks and a room marked “Employees Only.” The front door seemed miles away. He realized he’d somehow gotten farther into the store instead of closer to the front and freedom. The same feeling of being a dog caught in a too-small cage filled him. Eric gave him a smug smile and lunged for him.

Max whipped around and yanked on the Employees Only door, discovering it was actually a back room exit. He could smell the scents of an alleyway and old garbage. The smells of freedom. He frantically slipped outside even as Eric grabbed at his bag, caught one of the loops, and yanked back hard. Max pulled on his bag for a moment, stuck in a new game of tug-of-war, and then slammed the door against Eric’s wrists. Eric howled in pain. The arm retreated. Max shut the door and tried wedging a metal bar through the handle before taking off into the night.

He ran for dear life. His backpack thumped against his shoulders. His breath came in wheezes. He knew he was fast, but he didn’t know who else could be with Eric or who else might be chasing him. He wanted to put as much space between him and the store as possible.

Max leapt around a series of cars and headed toward the interstate, running until his legs finally gave out. He collapsed against a silver Mazda next to the interstate’s on-ramp. Crouching against the car, he tried to slow his breathing. Fear nearly paralyzed him. He listened hard, dreading to hear someone following him. Soon, his breathing became steadier and his lungs didn’t burn as much. Closing his eyes, he wished he had a drink of water and then remembered all the stolen goods in his bag.

He yanked out one of the plastic bottles and downed half of it in one go. Then he pulled out the map and traced the route he needed to take with his finger. He figured it would be a hundred and fifty miles to walk. Not ideal, but it wasn’t outside the realm of imagination. Max could do it. He’d kept himself fit, and while walking would take him some time, he would be trying to put as much ground as possible between himself, the cartel and the guards.

He looked up into the night sky again and wondered what Kathleen would think when he showed up on her doorstep. She’d been furious at him when she learned about his crimes, but after her last visit, he had started to feel that there was a connection between them again. He almost felt as though he had his sister back. She wouldn’t shun him. This was a special circumstance. He’s be able to explain everything.

His family would welcome him with open arms. That, he would take to the bank.

11

Matthew stood up with a groan and stretched his aching muscles. Placing his hammer and nails on the ground, he tore off the work gloves that he’d found in the cellar and flexed his stiff fingers. He looked back toward the hotel and felt a surge of pride followed by another wave of fatigue.

The last few days had been exhausting as the Riley family fortified their hotel. Matthew had worked from dawn until dusk on a myriad of projects around the property, from reinforcing the existing fence to inspecting moldy wallpaper to rebuilding the front door. Each night, he would collapse in bed next to Kathleen and immediately fall into a dreamless sleep. Then he would wake up disoriented and groggy to see Kathleen standing next to the window, staring at the property line. Even though it had taken several back-breaking days of hard labor, the hotel was starting to benefit from their attention. It seemed as though the project list was never-ending, but Matthew was determined to tick off as many items as he could.

He looked down at his fence. It was his first attempt, and while some of the boards weren’t straight, they were at least sturdy. He could tell Kathleen that she wouldn’t have to worry about intruders entering their property. Maybe then, she’d start to relax and get some rest.

He picked up his tools and turned to head back toward the hotel. His mouth was dry. He was eager for a bottle of water and a small break in the shade. The sun beat down on the nape of his neck, blistering an already tender sunburn. As he walked, he could feel every muscle cry out with fatigue. His mind already echoed with the empty drone of exhaustion, driving out any other thoughts. He walked up the porch and into the hotel, grabbed a bottle of water and headed back outside. Even though his body cried out for a sit on the porch steps, he figured he needed to inspect what everyone else was doing first. He downed half of the bottle of water. It didn’t refresh him as much as he’d hoped it would.

Allison had opted to help Jade construct a composting toilet. Essentially, they were digging two holes in the ground. One for solids and the other for liquids, but also in case multiple people had to use the facilities at once. Just beyond them, David walked the perimeter of wood planks set into a square. He was inspecting a possible location for their compost bin for their food waste. Yesterday, his father had measured the space and cut the wood, and now he was mulling over the size and placement. Matthew chuckled. He would expect nothing less from his meticulous father.

In one of the holes, he saw the top of Jade’s dark head as she flung dirt up and out of the hole she was digging. Next to her, he noticed the blonde gleam of Allison’s head as she moved her own shovel much slower in a second hole. Jade seemed to share Matthew’s zeal for fortifying the hotel as quickly as possible, but Allison seemed to be struggling with her tasks. He moved closer to her and peered inside the hole, pleased to see it was much deeper than he thought it would be.

Jade had told them they’d need to construct a box over the hole once it was completed that would act as their toilet seat. Then, they could enclose it like an outhouse. Matthew had already begun to take apart the toilet seats from the bathrooms inside the hotel and planned to nail them down to whatever they ended up constructing out here. A melding of the rustic and modern, he thought with another chuckle.

“Looking good,” he said and he waved at Allison, who peered up at him and shaded her eyes. Dirt covered her face. Her blonde hair was tied up high in a ponytail. She stuck her shovel in the dirt and waved back. She looked too thin, Matthew noted.

“Thanks.” Allison swayed back and forth, and she gave him a weak ghost of a smile. He held his hand out to her, which she gratefully accepted. He helped her climb out of the hole.

Her hand trembled in his. He tried to hide his concern for her by offering her the rest of his bottle of water. As she reached for it, her body suddenly seemed to seize up. Then, as if all her strings had been cut, her swaying intensified and she collapsed halfway into his arms. The bottle of water flew out of his hand and landed on the ground, darkening the soil.

“Allison!” Matthew cried out. She was dead weight in his arms. “Honey, can you hear me? Allison, wake up!”

Jade popped her head out of her hole and looked at Allison with horror. David had abandoned his project and sprinted toward them. Jade clambered out and helped Matthew ease his daughter onto the grass. “What happened?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Matthew said, hating that he sounded so panicked. “She just fainted.”

Allison’s eyes fluttered weakly and then rolled up into the back of her head. David knelt beside her. Matthew reached out and put his hand on her forehead, looking for the tell-tale signs of a fever. She felt hot, but it seemed to be more from the sun than anything.

“Sunstroke?” David asked, peering into Matthew’s face.

“It’s got to be,” Matthew said. It had been a hot couple of days, and they’d all been working hard to make the hotel and its surrounding property as safe as possible. He gathered his daughter into his arms. She felt rail thin. Her jawline seemed sharp as a blade. Picking her up, he sprinted as best as he could toward the hotel with David hot on his heels.

“I hope she’s okay!” Jade called out from behind them. “Let me know if I can do anything to help!”

We don’t need you, Matthew thought and buried the wish that Jade had been the one to collapse. The thought was vindictive, but he was just so tired of seeing his family hurt.

Allison had most likely overexerted herself. It sounded like a rationalization, even to him.

Once inside the hotel, Matthew called out for his mother. Ruth bolted into the room. She held a towel and was wiping her hands with it. As soon as she saw Allison limp in Matthew’s arms, her eyes widened with fear and she said, “Oh my goodness, what happened?”

“She fainted,” Matthew said. “I think it’s sunstroke.”

Ruth’s eyes flickered to David. “Put her on the sofa,” Ruth commanded.

Matthew obeyed, laying his daughter gently on the worn couch in the lounge. He propped her feet up on a pillow and brushed stray blonde hairs off her forehead. Ruth appeared at his side with a clean, damp rag and a bottle of water. Placing the rag over Allison’s forehead, she tutted in worry. Matthew remembered that sound from his childhood—usually after he’d done something foolish that had ended up with him needing to go to the doctor.

“You should know better, Matthew,” Ruth said to him as she unscrewed the water bottle and tried to coax some down Allison’s throat.

“How is this my fault?” Matthew demanded and took the bottle from his mother.

“You’ve been working all of us to death. I don’t even understand how she’s been able to go on as long as she has when all she’s been eating is Lucky Charms. That girl is running on nothing but sugar.”

“What are you talking about?” Matthew asked, but the question went unanswered when Allison began to moan and toss her head back and forth. Her eyes opened a sliver. Matthew nearly jumped for joy when he saw those blue orbs sharpen with recognition. She smiled sheepishly at him. “Hi Dad,” she said, “what happened?”

“You passed out,” Matthew said and then paused, feeling his throat tighten with guilt he didn’t want to admit to. “Grandma tells me you’ve haven’t been eating. Honey, tell me the truth. Have you really just been eating cereal?”

Allison shrugged and tried to prop herself up. Her arms trembled. She didn’t respond.

“Answer the question,” Matthew urged her. “You’re not in trouble, but I need to know if you’ve been keeping yourself healthy by eating any of Grandma’s canned veggies or the dehydrated meat.”

Allison touched the damp rag on her forehead and looked guilty herself. “Lucky Charms is comfort food,” she admitted. “It feels like the world has ended and they’re the last things existing of what life was like before everything fell apart.”

“You’ve been stress eating,” Ruth said softly.

Allison clasped her hands and studied them as if they were the most interesting thing in the room. “I guess.”

“The world hasn’t ended,” Matthew said and put his hand over hers. He cursed his own negativity. He’d been treating the world as though it had ended, and that mindset had obviously infected his children. He didn’t want them to feel terrified and suspicious of their world and regret not having the old one. He wanted them to still find some kind of wonder in it. “It’s simply a changing world,” he continued. “It’s a world we never saw ourselves living in, and yet here we are. At least we have each other and are together as a family. I promise you, things might look bleak, but we need to be grateful for what we have.”

“It just all feels so hopeless,” Allison finally said.

“I know,” Matthew said. “It shouldn’t feel that way, though. We’ll get through this. I promise.”

Allison let out a shuddering breath, but didn’t respond.

“Can I get you anything?” Matthew asked anxiously, trying to read the distress on her face. “Even if it is Lucky Charms?”

Allison shook her head. “No, thank you. I should get back to work.”

“Out of the question,” David finally chimed in. He moved closer to the couch. “You’ll stay inside and rest up. Your father will help us put the finishing touches on the composting toilet.”

Allison’s brow furrowed as though she was ready to disagree, but Matthew shook his head at her. “Your grandfather is right,” he said. “Stay here. Take a breather.”

Allison paused, as if trying to figure out how she could fight back, but then finally gave in and sank back onto the couch. Her eyes closed and she let out a sigh.

Matthew watched her for a moment and felt his heart twist. He hated that she’d felt so distraught and he still didn’t quite understand why. Even though the world had changed, it wasn’t enough reason for her to act this way. He looked up at his father, and David motioned for Matthew to follow him. Together, they walked outside and stood on the porch.

Matthew put his hands on his hips. He could feel the heat radiate off the wood. The sunlight shone on the leaves that lay lank without a breeze, and saw the blinding small bursts of light reflect off of them.

“Matt, don’t take this the wrong way,” David began.

“It’s never anything good when you start off like that,” Matthew said, feeling suddenly defensive.

“Why are you so insistent that we get all of the hotel’s reconstruction projects done right away?” David asked.

Matthew bristled at the question. “I’m only trying to make the hotel a safe place for our family. Isn’t that what we all want?”

“It’s not just that,” David said. “We’ve all been trying to keep up with the tasks you’ve assigned us, but it seems like you have a one-track mind. Your kids are worried they’ll appear weak if they ask for a break. I feel like I’ll disappoint you if I don’t keep up with you.”

Matthew looked at his father with alarm. “It’s not like that,” he said. “I don’t want you to feel that way. I want us to all feel like the hotel is a safe place where we can relax.”

“You mean you want Kathleen to feel like the hotel is a safe place,” David said.

Matthew bit his lip. He didn’t want to admit to that. Doing so felt like a sort of betrayal. Why did it always feel like he had to choose between his wife and his father these days?

“She’s the one that doesn’t feel safe,” David reiterated. “She’s been different. I know you see it, just like me and your mother see it. The kids sense it. She’s been short-tempered with all of us.”

“And paranoid,” Matthew admitted. Saying it out loud filled him with relief and also unease. “She’s convinced someone has been watching the property. She acts as if an invading army is on the way. I’ve looked, but I don’t see any signs of someone out there like she says.”

David’s face darkened with worry. “Do you think she’s imagining it?” he asked gently.

Matthew ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t think so. I hope not. I trust her…but I just can’t find any reason why she would insist that someone is out there. This obsession has been going on for days.”

“Allison has changed too,” David said. “She’s sleeping more and barely talks. Eating cereal is the least of our concerns, but it’s still a concern. She’s not acting like she used to.”

“I thought it was just her being a teenager,” Matthew said softly.

“Something must have happened to them,” David said. “Don’t you think so?”

“Neither of them will talk to me,” Matthew said. He began to pace the porch. “I can’t force them to speak about it.”

“Ruth tried to encourage Allison to open up,” David said, “but she clammed up. Kathleen is the same way, then?”

Matthew nodded. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve lost my wife. I just wish they’d confide in me. It’s affecting them both so much.”

David looked relieved, as if he had been anticipating fighting to make Matthew see what was going on. “I know,” he said and patted Matthew’s arm in sympathy. “But you know we can’t continue like this. I want Kathleen and Allison to feel safe here too, but we can’t force that. If we keep rushing at a breakneck speed, we’ll begin making mistakes and wasting what little resources we do have. I didn’t tell you this, but yesterday Patton nearly broke the gimlet we found in the cellar. He was desperate to figure out how to work it. He got frustrated and nearly used it the wrong way. He could’ve injured himself and broken the tool.”

Matthew pursed his lips together. “You should’ve told me, Dad.”

“I know,” David said. “We all need to be more open with each other. Ruth and I had noticed Allison’s unhealthy eating habits, but we decided it was better to keep quiet. They’re your children, after all, and we didn’t want to step on your toes. That was a mistake. We are all part of one family, not separate entities, and we need to watch out for each other. We should’ve said something. Maybe then, we could have avoided this whole thing.”

Matthew sensed something lingering behind David’s words. “Has she overeaten her share of food?” he asked, knowing their food supply was something that needed to be regulated.

David shrugged, but Matthew knew what that really meant.

“How low on food are we, now?” Matthew demanded.

“It’s not just the dwindling food supply,” David finally said. “We have to ensure everyone is getting the required nutrients. If we start suffering the consequences of that, we’ll be in big trouble. Yes, Allison ate more than her fair share, but we’ll just take this as an opportunity to address it.”

“We need to figure out a long-term system,” Matthew said with a sigh. “Something has to be done about the food.”

“It’s not like it used to be,” David said, his blue eyes staring off into the distance. “We can’t just eat on a whim and hope to run to the grocery for more. There is no more.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Matthew said, but even he heard the disillusionment in his tone.

“And what about Kathleen?”

Matthew paused. He wished he could take whatever burden his wife and daughter carried and make it his own. If he pressed either of them to open up, he feared it would lead to them distrusting him more. There were a hundred little fires that seemed to pop up around him and every time he thought he’d put them out, he turned around to see that they’d multiplied. Kathleen was one such fire. Allison another. The issues kept growing until he found himself standing in a raging inferno even he couldn’t understand.

“I’ll figure it out,” Matthew repeated, even as he refused to look at David. “I promise.”

12

Only when the last traces of the sun disappeared behind the mountain vista did Matthew call for another Riley family meeting.

As everyone gathered in the lounge area, he had a distinct sense of déjà vu. This time, though, Allison sat propped on the sofa next to Kathleen and leaned her head against her mother’s shoulder. Kathleen seemed to cradle Allison as though she were a delicate flower at risk of wilting. She must have heard about the fainting incident from Ruth.

Patton swayed back and forth with exhaustion from his seat on the floor. Jade sat in a chair, her face and hair coated with a layer of dirt that made her hair looked gray. Even David looked somewhat haggard, even though Matthew knew he’d been taking pains to protect his health and heart for once. Everyone looked completely worn out. Matthew had to admit that his father was right. He was pushing his family to their breaking point.

And the exhaustion extended to him as well. He could feel it in his bones, and not just because of the physical labor. Ruth had rationed their food, keeping their protein and calorie count carefully regulated as much as she could, but soon, they’d be running low on everything they had. Additionally, now that Allison had devoured a good portion of their cereal stocks, they needed to take into consideration nutrients, and not just whether their bellies were full. Eating crap food staved off the hunger, but it didn’t do much to keep them healthy.

He crossed his arms loosely and began to speak. “There was an incident today that you’re all probably aware of, but I’d like to address it all the same.” He gave Allison a comforting smile. “Allison fainted today. She hasn’t been eating right, and that, paired with all the strenuous physical work and the hot weather, finally got to her.”

He paused, waiting to see if anyone had anything to say. He steadied himself. He didn’t want to admit to this next part, but he knew that he wasn’t a saint. He had made mistakes and would recognize and rectify them. “It’s also no secret that I’ve been pushing everyone extra hard to help make the hotel a safe haven. Yet, in wanting to build that safety, I may have jeopardized your health. I’m sorry for that. For pushing all of you the way I did.”

“It’s all right,” Jade said with a weary smile.

Matthew felt his own smile freeze on his face, and he refused to look at her. Sometimes it seemed as if he just pretended Jade wasn’t there, he wouldn’t have to deal with all the emotions she brought up in him. All the doubt and, yes, even fear. “What do our rations look like, Mom?” he asked, directing his attention to his mother.

Ruth sat primly on the loveseat with David. Matthew inwardly started to relax, remembering when he was a child the way he would head to Ruth’s office after school, where she would make phone calls and schedules and lists for her employers. She had that same look.

“It’s not great,” Ruth admitted. “We’ve all done a fine job of stretching everything for as long as we have, but to be honest with you all, we only have a week left at most. Most of what’s left isn’t healthy at all. It would be more for sustenance than anything else.”

“But we planted those seeds,” Kathleen protested, looking scared. “Won’t those do anything for us?”

Allison raised her head at Kathleen’s tone. Her face darkened. Once again, Matthew wished he understood why Allison would give Kathleen such a look.

“They will,” Ruth said, “but it will take months for anything to grow. And that’s assuming the seeds take root and sprout. Some might grow faster than others, but it would be a miracle if we saw a little green growth in two weeks. These things take time. They don’t germinate overnight.” Ruth spread her hands as if helpless.

David nodded as though to back her up. “Plus, we’ve most likely started late in the season. Usually, it would take a year to start things up, anticipate failures, and keep shifting our strategy using trial and error. We don’t know if those seeds should’ve been planted in early spring or late summer for an autumnal harvest. Cultivating crops is a long-term plan. It’s a good plan, please don’t misunderstand me, but it doesn’t solve our immediate problem.”

Kathleen looked frustrated. Allison sat up further, seeming to pull away from her mother, and gave her another odd look. Even Matthew could see Kathleen’s distress. Was Allison reacting to that?

“We did read through the books in the library,” Ruth said. “Perhaps we can use them as a guide to help us identify native edible plants that are growing on the property now.”

“That will definitely help with nutrients,” David said, “but it still won’t provide the calories or protein we need.”

“Cannibalism it is,” Patton joked.

“Patton.” Ruth tsked at him. “Is that kind of talk necessary?”

Patton shrugged and looked away, properly chastised.

Matthew began to feel like finding food was a much more urgent need than he’d anticipated. “What about hunting?” he asked.

“That’s true,” David mused. “I’ve seen deer in the woods. Once I even spotted a wild turkey. We could even try to catch some squirrels.”

“Like real mountain men,” Patton said with a yawn. “Squirrel stew.”

“Any chance your classmate taught you how to make a squirrel trap at school?” Ruth asked Patton with a wink. Patton rolled his eyes and hissed out, “Grandma.”

“That might be what we have to do,” David said and looked to Matthew as though sharing a secret. “I’m not a great hunter, Matt. I barely managed at it when I was young. I never taught you how to hunt or shoot.”

Matthew ran his hands through his hair. He was sure his blond locks were standing straight up. “So it sounds like our only option is going back down the mountain and into Galena. Scavenging and raiding.”

Everyone suddenly looked uneasy. Matthew’s suggestion hung in the air like an unpleasant smell. Matthew cleared his throat and felt a knot in his belly. “I don’t like it either,” he said, “but it sounds like the best thing we could do. We could raid the grocery store. Maybe check out a couple of gas stations. Anything is better than starving.”

Jade cleared her throat. It sounded loud to Matthew. “Would you like me to give you a shooting lesson, instead?” she asked.

Matthew couldn’t help but turn and stare at her as if she’d just suggested something more heinous. “I beg your pardon?” he asked.

Jade shifted uneasily in her chair and looked at each of the Riley members in turn. “It’s just…if you know how to shoot then you can go hunting. There’s a better chance you’ll hit something if you’ve had practice and can master the basics.”

“We can’t waste the bullets,” Matthew said. He knew Jade had a point, but at the same time he couldn’t bring himself to trust her. Each time she suggested something, he logically understood it, but his gut roiled with doubt.

“I’m not sure you have much of a choice at this point,” Jade said. “How sustainable is raiding stores, anyway? At some point, if this EMP continues, there won’t be anything left to raid. If you know how to shoot, you’ll be able to go out hunting in the winter, when plants are definitely not growing. I guarantee you, if you go out hunting without knowing how to shoot, you’ll be wasting the same number of bullets you would in practice, if not more.”

“We wouldn’t shoot everything we saw,” Matthew said hotly, hating that Jade painted him in such an ignorant light.

“How would you know?” Jade said, her voice teasing and yet mocking at the same time. “If you’ve never been?”

Matthew opened his mouth to protest but Jade cut him off again. “Shooting a deer means you have to complete the kill. If you miss it and wound it, you’ll have to track it down. You can’t just leave it to die. That’s what will happen your first time, I promise you. It would be better if you just let me teach you how to aim.”

“Out of the question!” Kathleen shouted and leapt to her feet so that she loomed over Jade. “The day you get to use one of our guns will be over my dead body. You can’t be trusted with a weapon. Especially not after what you did to that man at the gas station. You don’t even seem to show any remorse!”

Jade’s face flushed a dark red. Her eyes narrowed with the same kind of rage Matthew had seen when the clerk had threatened her. “That’s completely unfair,” she said.

“You’d turn on us,” Kathleen said, her voice low and venomous, “and I bet you wouldn’t feel bad about it at all.”

Jade looked affronted. “How dare you?” she said, slowly standing from her chair to face off with Kathleen. “I’m dealing with my issues in my own way. What do you know? You’ve barely taken the time to get to know me. Would you rather see me screaming at everyone and throwing a tantrum, instead? Would that make it look like I was feeling bad for what I did? Perhaps I should hide in my room.” Jade eyed Kathleen up and down as if taking stock of her and not liking what she saw. “Maybe I’ll just pretend to see imagined threats hiding in the woods.”

Kathleen looked as though she’d been slapped.

“I’ve already proved,” Jade continued, “on more than one occasion, that you can trust me. I’m not going to turn a gun on you and shoot you. I may not be weeping openly in front of you, but I can certainly tell you that I’m mourning in my own way. I’m just handling it better than you, and that pisses you off!” Jade said.

Kathleen’s face paled. She stared at Jade as if desperate for words that wouldn’t come.

“You’re the one that hasn’t been sleeping,” Jade said, pointing a finger at Kathleen. “You’re the one who’s been eating just as poorly as Allison. To tell you the truth, I’m surprised you haven’t collapsed. You see everyone as a threat. Now tell me, of the two of us, who is the one who is more dangerous with the gun?”

Kathleen began to shake as though Jade’s words were physical blows. Matthew wished she would open up to him so he could defend her. Even if he was just a sounding board, it would be better for her to get her feelings out instead of keeping them locked up tight until they exploded.

Even so, Matthew knew he had to prove that he was on Kathleen’s side no matter what. He had to back her. They were a team, and he had to show he was trustworthy, through thick and thin. That he would always protect her.

“That’s enough, Jade,” Matthew said, his voice low. “You’re out of line.”

“I’m out of line?” Jade said, shocked.

Matthew took a deep breath and readied himself to justify Kathleen. “Kathleen has been adjusting to you as best as she can. She’s terrified that you might turn on her and hurt us. It’s not her fault that she’s heard what you’ve done and judged you based on that. You made poor decisions. It’s not illogical for us to assume you’ll make poor decisions again.”

Jade’s mouth clapped shut. Her lips pursed into a thin line. Her chin began to wobble, but no tears shone in her eyes. “If that’s what you really think—after everything I’ve done—then there’s no chance of me ever being redeemed.” With that, she stormed out of the room.

Kathleen wrapped her arms around herself and left the room without another word.

I wanted that to have gone better. Matthew rubbed his forehead as a headache raced between his temples. He glanced at David, who looked at him disapprovingly.

“Can you teach us how to shoot?” he asked his father. He hated that he sounded so desperate, but he didn’t know what else to do. Maybe, if this was the solution to their problem, then it might ease some tension lingering between them with Jade as the rotten cavity at the core of it.

David said in a flat tone, “Unlikely. I was never a great marksman. I’ve gone downhill since. I can consult with you and teach you the basics, but doing long-range shots is hard for me. I don’t have the eyesight or the ability.”

Matthew finally collapsed into Jade’s abandoned chair. He felt completely at a loss.

“Having Jade on our side is a good thing,” Ruth said, sounding unnaturally gentle. “Reconsider, Matthew. Giving her the benefit of the doubt wouldn’t be considered a betrayal of Kathleen. It would actually help us survive if she was on our side. She knows so much more than we do. There’s nothing wrong in admitting we are in over our heads. There’s nothing wrong in asking for help.”

Matthew looked toward the door that Kathleen had left through. He should say that to Kathleen. They faced problems at every turn, but maybe with Jade, things didn’t have to be so difficult. The thought of navigating an argument with her left him feeling more exhausted than he had at the beginning of the conversation. He simply didn’t have the energy. He nodded. “I’ll think about it, but right now I need some air.”

David sighed as if he’d expected Matthew to say something else. Matthew ignored him and stood, heading outside and seeing nothing but the last moments of dusk coating the sky in a purple twilight. He meandered toward the perimeter of the hotel grounds in a daze. Since he spent most of his time out here anyway, it made sense that he should try to find some kind of peace out here too.

As he walked the perimeter, he studied the ground. He grimaced when he walked through some drying mud, and then came to a halt.

There. In the middle of a patch of mud softened with scat he saw a footprint. Not an animal print, but a boot print. The tread had been worn on one side, but it was clear that someone had been standing there facing the hotel. He cursed. How had he not seen this before?

He looked back the way he’d come and noticed that the dirt was dry and hard. No wonder he hadn’t been able to see any tracks. The ground naturally made it difficult to detect tracks, and he was no expert to begin with. His heart thundered in his chest. All this time, he’d thought Kathleen was losing her senses when she was in fact correct. Now, because of his failure, the hotel was in danger.

After inspecting the area, he realized there was only one set of footprints. Whoever this person was, they’d watched the hotel alone. Could it be Samuel planning a second attack?

He didn’t know. All he could do was speculate. But one thing he knew for certain. They needed to be more careful now than they ever had before.

And they’d need Jade to do it.

13

The next day, Matthew and Jade assembled a rudimentary shooting range on the hotel’s front lawn. Matthew had rolled a few big boulders and stumps into a staggered orientation on the lawn and placed tin cans on top of them. David held the pistol and Ruth, the Glock. Matthew hadn’t brought himself to relinquish the shotgun, yet.

He glanced up into the morning sun and toward the bedroom window, hoping to see Kathleen. Her pleasure that he’d believed her allegations about someone watching the hotel had been overshadowed by his insistence that they allow Jade to teach them how to shoot. For hours, he attempted to coax her into accepting that plan and to convince her to join them, but she adamantly refused. Then she’d spent the rest of the night vigilantly staring out the window while he had a restless sleep.

Now, he hoped she would see what they were doing and decide to join them, even if he knew she was actually studying them with an air of disapproval.

Patton and Allison were unusually quiet as they watched the lawn transform into a shooting range. Patton wore an owlish look as he openly stared at Jade taking the Glock from David. She handled the gun with calm proficiency and the utmost respect. She inspected the weapon and then turned to face the Riley clan.

“The first thing you should all think about when handling a gun is that it is a weapon to be treated with respect,” Jade said. “You should always treat your gun as if it is loaded, even when it’s not. Even when the safety is on. Always keep your finger away from the trigger. You’ll naturally want to curl your finger around it, but believe me, that’s a big mistake.”

Jade popped the magazine out and showed them where the bullets would be slotted inside. With a couple of clicks and twists, the gun seemed to fall apart into basic components in her hands. Matthew marveled at how just a couple of plastic and metal pieces could be the source of so much fear and protection. It looked like the pieces of a deadly puzzle.

“Gun safety means you always have the safety on, unless you intend to fire. You never want to fire at something that you can’t clearly see. Shooting blindly is a mistake. You’ll never know what exactly you’ve shot at, and it could have dire consequences down the line.” Jade showed them the tiny notch and flipped it back and forth, revealing a small red panel that indicated the safety was off. She began to put the gun back together. “Your worst fear is an accident. Say you’re walking in the woods and you trip over a log. The trigger could be jostled. If the safety is off, the gun will go off. You could hurt yourself, someone else, or even deafen yourself depending on how close the gun goes off to your ears.”

She held the Glock out to Patton. He took it reverently in his hands.

“Get used to the feel of it,” Jade instructed, motioning him to the front. “Keep the barrel pointed away from everyone at all times, ideally pointed at the ground.”

Patton fingered the plastic grip and ran his thumb over the smooth barrel. Then he gave it to Allison. She held it with a mixture of disgust and strange fascination. Each of them had a moment to hold the weapon. When it was Matthew’s turn, he realized he felt grateful for the opportunity. Up until then, whenever he had a gun in his hands, it was a means of survival. Now, it felt like he could finally connect with the weapon on a different basis than a frantic one.

“Feel the weight?” Jade asked him. Her dark brows arched up over her green eyes. “It’s much lighter than the shotgun, right? That means the rounds will be smaller and the recoil won’t pack as much of a punch. Don’t get me wrong, though, it will still kick back at you. Anticipating recoil is somewhat of a two-edged sword. You know it’s coming so you tense up for it. That’s ineffective. Honestly, you want to be relaxed when you pull the trigger so that when the recoil does hit, it can be absorbed. Think of your arms like cushions on a chair instead of brick walls. The recoil will hit the cushions and be somewhat absorbed, instead of smacking into a wall that can’t take any of the force.”

“How do we do that?” Patton asked.

“I’ll show you,” Jade said, “but don’t feel frustrated if you can’t get it right away. A lot of times, you simply need to get used to it. If you know the recoil will happen no matter what, you can treat it the right way.”

She took the shotgun and showed them how to open it up, displaying where the bullet canisters would go. “This one will need to be balanced against your shoulder.” She lifted it up and positioned it against her armpit. “The force will go right there. First time I shot one of these, I was bruised blue, but each time I got better.” Jade put the gun back together, reloaded the bullets, and handed it to Matthew. Matthew took it silently and realized he’d been holding his breath throughout the demonstration— terrified Jade would turn the gun on him.

Patton nodded, as if hanging on her every word.

“All right, let’s talk shooting,” Jade said. “Each gun is different. The shotgun you have to brace and hold because it’s so much larger than a handgun. The handgun you have to hold out steady in front of you. You’ll aim using the sight, but don’t ruin your vision by closing one eye. Keep both of them open and focus through the notch. You’ll have to practice, but once you figure out how a gun aims, you can figure out if you need to aim a little bit above or a little bit below to hit your target. Patton, want to try first?”

She passed the Glock to Patton, and he took up a stance with the gun held out in front of him. Jade corrected him, showing him how to cup the gun with two hands, cradling the bottom and wrapping a hand around the handle. Once she was satisfied, he tried to dry fire. Click, click, click.

“Awesome,” he said, handing the gun to Allison.

“Okay,” Jade said, helping Allison readjust her stance. “You’re doing great. Just keep your legs bent and slightly apart. Don’t lock your knees. Now take a deep breath. When you put your finger on the trigger, you’ll want to squeeze it. Not sharp and fast—you’ll naturally want to pull up if you pull the trigger too quickly—but like you’re testing the ripeness of a fruit. Don’t want to bruise it.”

Allison obeyed Jade’s instructions. Matthew frowned and couldn’t help but notice the sweat beginning to bead on her forehead.

“I know it’s counterintuitive,” Jade said. “Everything about guns makes people think it should be fast, but in reality, it’s all about building that slow confidence to be accurate and precise. Only then will the speed grow. Go ahead. Dry fire whenever you’re ready.”

Allison nodded and took a deep breath. Time passed without her pulling the trigger. Matthew studied her as she adjusted and readjusted her stance, watched her fingers curl around the trigger and then retract. Patton looked up at him in annoyance, as if he wanted to take the gun from her and prove he could do it better. Matthew held out his hand as if to ask for patience. Let her do this on her own terms.

For some reason, it seemed like this was important to Allison. As if mastering the gun might help her master whatever demons she kept locked tight inside.

Finally, Allison took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The gun clicked in her hands. The rest of her breath cascaded out of her in a whoosh, as if she was expecting something else to happen. She handed the gun to David. For some reason, she was shaking. Matthew couldn’t understand why.

After they’d each had a turn, Jade taught them how to holster and unholster the gun without catching it on anything and while keeping the safety on at all times. Matthew felt like they were in the wild west, especially when Patton shot him a wide grin, whipped out the gun, pointed it at the tin can, and said, “Hands to the sky.”

“Focus,” Jade chided gently.

Matthew was impressed with Jade’s teaching ability. Beneath the rough and tough young woman was a softness for his children and a natural aptitude for education. At last, Matthew and Jade decided it was time to put their hard-won skills to the test.

“Each one of us will get to shoot two rounds,” Jade said as she handed out the Glock bullets. “Two bullets each.”

Matthew let his clink together in his palm. They looked so small. He had another moment of awe where he considered how something so compact could be used to create so much damage.

Jade motioned for Allison to join her. Together, they went through the motions of ejecting the magazine and slotting in the bullets. Jade was in the middle of explaining the mechanics when a sudden scream cut through the air.

Matthew whipped around to see Kathleen bolt out of the hotel’s front door and down the porch steps. Her eyes looked wild like a skittish horse. She pointed toward the tree line and screamed, “Matt, they’re here! I saw them, they’re here watching us!”

“Get behind me,” Jade commanded and pushed the children behind her. She turned toward the fence as if prepared to defend the hotel to the death. Matthew grabbed the shotgun and sprinted for the fence with David hot on his heels. He waited for gun-toting maniacs to emerge from the woods, or an army commanded by Samuel West to attack them at their most vulnerable, or maybe even the whole town had come together, determined to kick the Rileys out…

He shook his panicked thoughts away as he reached the fence. Propping the shotgun into his armpit, he surveyed the tree line with a critical eye. The gun was loaded, and he was ready to defend his home no matter what came for them. The footprints he’d seen yesterday flashed through his mind. Whoever it was had returned.

David breathed heavily beside him and said, “Matt, are you sure this isn’t an over-exaggeration? Is Kathleen imagining it all?”

“I saw footprints in the mud yesterday,” Matthew said. The shadows seemed to taunt him. “Kathleen’s not crazy, Dad. She’s not making anything up.”

David went silent. Another darker shadow darted off in the distance, looking like a man ducking into the brush. Matthew didn’t hesitate. He took aim and fired.

The bullet exploded out through the shadow and kicked up a puff of dirt. The shot echoed around them. There wasn’t anything there. Matthew lowered the gun, feeling unmoored. He’d shot at nothing.

“Stop,” David hissed, grabbing the gun and removing it from Matthew’s grip. “There’s nothing there,” he said angrily. “You’ve wasted a bullet because you’re imagining things.”

“I thought I saw something,” Matthew said, but even he knew it was a flimsy excuse.

“Thinking you saw something isn’t the same as seeing something,” David said and turned back to walk toward the hotel. “This is why we needed Jade. I was scared of this very thing happening. We’re not prepared, no matter how much you think we are.”

Matthew swallowed hard. Shame colored his cheeks a bright red. As they walked back to the hotel, he studied the ground, but didn’t really see it because he was so lost in his thoughts. David was right. He should have been certain of what he saw before shooting. He was jumping at shadows and as a result he’d wasted precious resources and probably scared the rest of his family. He didn’t want to think about what might have happened if he’d shot a person who turned out to be harmless.

He stumbled and looked down at what had made him trip. It was a smooth, oblong rock, but it wasn’t the striations or the color that caught his attention. It was the note tied around it.

14

Max walked the interstate all through the night, trying to put as much space between him and Chicago as possible. Without the glaring lights highlighting the road, headlights from traveling cars flashing across the asphalt, or house lights streaming from homes tucked along the mountain, he could actually see a lot. It must have been one of those things he never noticed was gone, he thought. Stolen by electricity and living in a civilization dependent on artificial light. Only now was he realizing the extent of his built-in survival skills that had evolved to keep him alive. He felt as though he were connecting with a truer version of himself after all this time.

Yet, at the same time, he had to outrun so many things: the guard, the prison, his own past. His eyes burned from exhaustion. His legs ached from exertion. Every time he considered stopping for a rest, he imagined Eric bearing down on him with hatred glowing in his eyes. Max had turned a kind man into a harder, wiser one. Eric would never be kind to an inmate again, and Max blamed himself for that.

Walking down the interstate was a nightmare all on its own. The eerie silence made Max hear things, and yet when an actual sound cut through the air, it never failed to chill him to the bone. At one point, he heard a loud scream echo from a long way off. Max froze in place at the agonized cry, horrified that whatever had caused the sound might come for him next. He couldn’t stop. If he stopped, he’d be vulnerable. Exposed. So he wove between the bumper-to-bumper cars and tried to imagine how the world had come to a standstill. Where had everyone gone?

Maybe he had lost his mind. Maybe he was actually in solitary confinement and this was his way of coping with being alone. Maybe his imagination was playing out the fantasy of being free. He didn’t know. All he knew was that he had to keep going.

Night transformed into day. Max kept plodding along. Each step was torture. The chaos seemed never-ending. Once he tried to stop and rest, but everything made him nervous. He jumped at the chirping crickets and even the sparse rustling of leaves from the groves of trees along the highway. Soon enough, daylight began to sink into evening again, and Max knew that if he didn’t stop his body would collapse with or without his consent. He desperately needed rest and to recharge, but he didn’t know where to go. Sleeping on the pavement felt like he would be too exposed. He worried a stranger would stumble upon him and take his precious resources. Heading off of an exit felt too precarious. Who knew what waited below? What if he got off and then could never get back on again?

Finally, he started to test the car doors as he walked. Most of them were locked, but then he tested the passenger door to a Subaru and heard the click as it opened. He nearly cried in relief.

The car had been abandoned. CDs from the ’90s filled the back seat, as if a case had been jostled at some point and spilled the contents into the car. He clambered into the back seat and collapsed on the leather. With a final thought, he yanked off the driver’s car seat cover and balled it up under his head as a terrible pillow. He refused to take his backpack off.

Sleep overtook him immediately. He was thrust into deep dreams he couldn’t escape, first a lecture from Kathleen about his future, then Eric furiously trying to yank him away from her. The yanking on his boots felt so real. He twisted, trying to escape, and then felt as though he were balanced on the edge of a precipice, terrified he would go over.

He woke with a start to discover that someone was actually yanking on his boots. He fought back and slid halfway into the footwell of the backseat. Whoever held his feet tightened their grip. Disoriented, Max let out a muffled curse and tried to kick out and pull back. Gasping, he scrambled for the door handle near his face. He hoped he could kick off his assailant and escape through the opposite door. If only he could get his bearings. If only he could think straight, but it was so hard being pulled out of such a deep sleep so suddenly.

The hand on his boots grabbed his pant leg and with one sharp tug, pulled Max out of the Subaru.

He landed hard on the pavement in a bundle of limbs. Blinking furiously up into the evening sky, he felt his heart begin to race. A smirking Colin towered over him. Max’s dread was like the ocean and kept trying to drown him in waves. How had Colin found him? More importantly, how had Colin gotten out of prison?

Four other men stood behind Colin and loomed over Max. Max noticed the matching tattoos on their knuckles. Some were precise and done by a professional. Others were ragged as though given in prison. Cartel. These men probably hated Max just as much as Colin did.

“There you are, little bird,” Colin said. Tattoos ringed his bald head. He grinned, showing off a gold tooth in the back, and his dark eyes crinkled as if Max were a birthday present all wrapped up and waiting for him. His grin widened to the point of looking manic.

“What are you doing here?” Max asked. He mentally slapped himself. He needed to think before he spoke.

“What am I doing here?” Colin roared with laughter. “I’m here listening to your song, little bird.”

“You should be in solitary for what you did to me,” Max said. Even as he spoke, he could feel the lingering effects of Colin’s last beating prior to Max’s escape. His ribs still ached. His eyes were still tender to the touch.

“I was,” Colin said with a shrug, “but they let me out. No one gets punished long for beating up a piece of crap like you. It was a slap on the wrist. Probably would’ve gotten the same punishment if I’d just killed you.”

One of the men behind Colin tittered with laughter. Max dug deep inside himself trying to find the steel constitution he’d cultivated during his imprisonment. “You’re a liar,” Max said. “Tell me how you really got out.”

And make it a long story, he thought. If he could keep Colin talking, it would give Max the chance to get his head on straight and make up a plan to escape. He had to get away from Colin or he was a dead man.

“You set quite the example with your escapade,” Colin sneered. “That takes guts, escaping the way you did, I’ll give you that. Leaving that poor guard hollering for help and looking like an idiot. We all figured that if a stupid bird-boy like you could do it, why were the rest of us hanging out in our jumpsuits for? With the whole cartel on my side, we were able to take the prison. It was even easier when the warden decided to shut the whole place down.”

“You caused a revolt,” Max said and felt grateful that he’d listened to his instincts. If he had stuck around, Colin would have killed him already for sure.

“Easiest thing I’ve done in my whole life.” Colin winked at him. “I got friends who helped me out. It’s really something when you have the full cartel backing you. Imagine. You could’ve had that too if you hadn’t turned on us.”

“I had to,” Max said. “I would’ve been locked up for half of my life if I didn’t.”

“Wrong!” Colin made a sound like a buzzer being hit. “No one thought you’d sing, but you did. Now, you can sing all the way to Galena.”

Max’s stomach dropped. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. “What did you say?” he asked.

“That’s where we’re heading,” Colin said. “My boys and me. We’re looking for a nice vacation spot. Someplace high in the mountains where we can enjoy the fresh air. I hear a friend of yours owns a hotel and might be willing to give us a discount if we persuade her.”

“How do you know about the hotel?” Max’s world was spinning too fast around him. His fear threatened to overwhelm him.

“The guards keep records about us, you know,” Colin said. “Since a bird like you had flown the coop, we were curious where you might be heading to. If there was someone out there who’d take you in. I hope this Kathleen won’t mind if you never show up.”

“You stay away from my family,” Max said. His fear felt like a match that had been struck, and now it burned hot and had transformed into anger. “You don’t go anywhere near Galena.”

“Not so smart, are you?” Colin said and tutted at Max. “It wasn’t hard for me to figure out you’d take the fastest route home. The easiest route. Always one for the easy way out, aren’t you? Not just here, but with the cartel too.” Colin knelt in front of Max. “Did you ever think what your life might have been like if you hadn’t betrayed us? If you’d kept your mouth shut, you’d be taken care of right now. No one would ever come after your family. Come to think of it, they’d probably be better off! The cartel takes care of their own. Too bad it’s time for you to pay the piper.”

Max waved his hands around to encompass the quiet, empty world around them. “What does that matter anymore? There’s no point in making an example out of me. There are no more guards or prisons or even laws! The cartel can take whatever they want. Why are they so determined to end my life when I was just a lowly drug mule?”

“Like I said, the cartel takes care of their own.” Colin’s smile had faltered, and he watched Max with disgust. “I’ll be taken care of. My family will have everything they’ve ever needed. A spot is waiting for me at their compound, but they told me I have to take care of you first. This is how I earn my way and prove my loyalty. By taking out the bird who sang so you can’t betray us again.”

Max’s heart thundered in his ears. His hands balled up into fists on the asphalt. Colin stepped back and snapped his fingers. The four men set upon Max like a pack of wolves.

15

Matthew felt as though he were underwater. He heard his father ask him a slew of questions, but his voice was muffled to Matthew’s ears. For a moment, guilt crushed him like the pressure of the deep sea as he studied the note tied around the rock.

How could I doubt her? He’d thought that perhaps Kathleen was paranoid and making things up. Yet here was undeniable proof that she was not seeing things. He shouldn’t have been taken by surprise by whoever had left this for them, just because he’d dismissed the one person who’d seen that stranger. He wanted to take that rock and throw it far into the woods.

“Matt?” David asked. “Matthew?”

When Matthew looked up, he realized his father had been saying his name for a long time. He let out a shuddering breath and stooped over the rock. He picked it up and showed it to David. David’s eyes went wide. The rock was rounded on one side with a jagged edge on the other, which caught and held the twine that had been used to tie the note to it.

David made a sound of surprise and shuffled closer to Matthew. He peered over Matthew’s shoulder and asked, “What is that?”

“Looks like a letter,” Matthew said in a rush. “Someone is trying to contact us.”

His hands quivered as he tugged on the note and managed to slip it out from under the twine. The paper was thick, like expensive stationery. It crinkled as Matthew unfolded it. The rock fell to the ground with a thud and embedded itself in the dirt. Matthew quickly skimmed the message that had been written in blue ballpoint.

David snorted as he read along with Matthew. “Dear hoteliers?” he asked.

“They must not know who we are,” Matthew said. “They only know we own this place, not who we are exactly.” That made him frown. It wasn’t new news that the Rileys had purchased the hotel. Matthew had interviewed with the local newspaper about how fixing up the historic landmark would bring economic purpose to Galena. He’d even submitted a press release to the hotel circuits when they’d bought the place.

“It’s an invitation,” David said and started to read the missive out loud. “‘We would like to open up a discussion with you to negotiate a trade. We have many resources that might be helpful. We hope you have supplies that would help us. Come to us at your earliest convenience.’ Very formal. Do you know the address?” David pointed at the address underneath.

Matthew nodded. “It’s a bit south of us. Not all the way in Galena, but below us on the mountain.” He thumbed across the logo stamped on the bottom of the stationery. The name ‘Carpenter Country’ was entwined around a swirling red logo, but no signature graced the page. Matthew felt his mental hackles rise. The whole things felt suspicious.

“This is exactly what we needed,” David said, sounding relieved. He read through the message again, mouthing the words. “This is better than I’d hoped for. Don’t you see, Matthew? Now we don’t have to be the ones to scout and make first contact. Someone is already in need and has made the first steps to approach us about trading.”

Matthew’s frown deepened. He didn’t know what to say to his father’s enthusiasm.

“They don’t give a time,” David continued. “What do you think? Should we just go down there first thing in the morning?”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Matthew snapped. His suspicion transformed into dread. It felt like a hole inside of him full of the people he’d met since the EMP hit. Those that had threatened him. Threatened his wife. Hurt his children. He didn’t want to add anyone else to the list. “It’s not even signed. Wouldn’t you think whoever this person was would sign their name, at least? As a sign of good faith?”

“That’s nothing,” David said, waving him off. “Maybe it’s a group of people.”

“Or maybe it’s that biker gang that Kathleen met on the road. Remember them? I shot one of their members.”

David shifted from side to side and looked uneasy. “Don’t look at it like that,” he urged Matthew. “This is what we’d been hoping for. We absolutely need to seek these people out. If they’re willing to trade with us, they could have food. Ammunition. We need good allies.”

“Or they’re setting up a trap to take over the hotel,” Matthew said. “Maybe they want to get even.”

“Matthew, that’s simply ridiculous.”

Matthew looked at his father in disbelief. “I don’t get you, Dad. You’ve always told me to be on my guard. Look out for people’s real intentions. Now you’re willing to dive in head first without considering the consequences? You’ve nagged me my whole life for doing things like that!”

“This is different,” David insisted. “You’re not just making random internet friends and hoping they’ll boost your status. This is about survival. This is about two parties needing to get something substantial from each other.”

“So what I did before wasn’t substantial?” Matthew demanded.

“That’s…no, Matthew. I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant.” David put his hand on his forehead. “I mean that before, people weren’t in dire straits. Not like this. Not when they don’t know what they’re going to eat next week. We weren’t in need. Not like we are now.” He took a step back and rubbed his hands together. “We could go armed, if you’d like, but we would be foolish not to take advantage of this opportunity.”

Matthew’s fury was its own raging inferno. He was disgusted with his father. He was disgusted by how everyone had changed since the EMP. He’d done his best in the beginning to help others, make friends, and put good out into the world. He’d hoped that good would come back to him. Instead, he’d seen his father get shot, watched his marriage crumble, seen his daughter faint from fatigue, and housed a murderer. The world wasn’t better now that they’d gone back to basics. It just revealed the ugliness people really held on the inside.

And there was no way he was exposing his family to more ugliness.

“Absolutely not,” Matthew said. All he wanted to do was create a bubble of safety around his family to keep the outside world out. He couldn’t do that with his father acting like a cowboy-hero and riding into the sunset with his white flag raised, hoping someone would negotiate with them.

“Why not?” David asked, his face flushed with a mixture of confusion and irritation. “What do we have to lose?”

“Everything!” Matthew hissed. “Don’t you see? This could be Samuel trying to set us up. He’s a local. We’re nothing but strangers in this place who only have each other. Samuel could’ve enlisted some of his friends and be lying in wait for us. Dividing us. This is nothing but a trap. We don’t have any friends out there. No one is on our side, Dad.”

David shook his head. “Matt, I’ve always wanted you to learn to be cautious, but I didn’t think the lesson would make you so paranoid.”

“I’m not paranoid,” Matthew said and heard the thunder of anger in his tone. “You said that about Kathleen, too. Look.” He scrunched the letter into a wad of crumpled paper in his hands. “She was right. I doubted her because you couldn’t see anything beyond what you wanted to see. This isn’t like the Army, Dad. We aren’t going to make allies. People don’t want to willingly help us.”

David’s face hardened and Matthew knew his words had struck like arrows. “Even you can’t deny that we need supplies.” David’s voice was flat.

“Yes, you’re right on that point. Is that what you want to hear? We need food, but I won’t risk my family on someone who doesn’t even have the decency to sign their own name. Carpenter Country? What does that even mean? It all sounds like a sure way to get us killed or make us homeless. I’m putting my family first. This stays and dies here.” He threw the note on the ground.

David looked at it mournfully.

“This stays between us,” Matthew continued. “I don’t want anyone to know about it. Not Mom. Not Kathleen. Especially not Jade. No one needs to be alarmed. I don’t want anyone getting ideas about trading or, worse, getting spooked and starting to believe we’ll be attacked. If this Carpenter Country wants to trade with us, they can come to our front door and ask. Not by sending us a creepy, unsigned letter, tied to a rock, demanding we come to them.”

David shook his head. “Matthew, this is a mistake.”

Matthew turned away from him “Not a word. Especially to Kathleen. Leave it alone.”

“And what if she asks?” David asked hotly. “Your wife isn’t an invalid. She deserves to know. So does your mother. We’re supposed to not keep secrets from each other. Especially about something like this that affects the well-being of everyone.”

“I don’t care. We’ll say that we didn’t see anything or that whoever must’ve been out here tucked tail and fled before we caught sight of them. Blame me if you have to, but don’t mention anything else.”

“Matthew—”

“Dad, I said leave it.” Matthew spun on his heel and began to walk toward the hotel. He hated sounding so sharp with his father, but David needed to see that the uncertainties outweighed the potential gains. Nothing good could come of this.

He kept telling himself that all the way back to the hotel. It didn’t alleviate the dread knotting his insides.

16

Kathleen clutched the railing of the porch as she watched Matthew and David rush out toward the property line. Her heart had gotten tangled in her throat, and she could feel it pounding against her neck. She’d been so foolish. She should have been outside with them, not sulking in her room, marinating in her shame and hopelessness. She should have been the one pushing Allison and Patton behind her and standing as a barrier between her children and danger. As much as she disliked Jade, the young woman had done what Kathleen hadn’t been able to do. Protect.

Ruth and Jade turned back toward the house slowly, as if moving through molasses. Ruth tugged on Patton’s arm to break his gaze on his father. Jade lingered next to Allison, waiting for her to follow. Kathleen tore her gaze away and searched the edge of the property for another glimpse of the shadowy figure, but she felt in her gut that whoever she’d seen had most likely escaped into the woods. No one would stick around after hearing so many gunshots.

Ruth and Patton climbed the porch steps. Kathleen’s mouth went dry as she continued to stare at Jade. Jade acted like a pillar for Allison, something steady and patient that waited for the teenage girl to lean on when she was ready.

Kathleen hated to admit it, but Jade was the better woman. They’d both lived through…defending themselves against unsavory types. While Jade was out here, digging trenches and educating the Rileys on self-defense, Kathleen had holed herself up in her room and tried not to let her anger lash out at everyone. She’d been unsuccessful so far at that too. She couldn’t bring herself to open up to Matthew. Just thinking about it made any forming words harden inside her like concrete blocks. Little things set her off, and she constantly felt as though everyone was judging her. That they saw through the flimsy protective layer she’d drawn over herself, and decided that down to her core, she was just another ugly person here at the end of the world.

Not Jade, though. Jade had faced her fears.

Kathleen wished she could feel respect for her, but instead, she only felt a despondent jealousy inside her.

But now that Jade had put herself between a perceived threat and Kathleen’s family…well, jealousy could only extend so far. And Kathleen had enough self-respect to give thanks where it was due.

Ruth eyed Kathleen as she guided Patton into the hotel. She glanced back with a knowing look on her face and said softly to Kathleen, “Make nice.” She disappeared inside the hotel.

Jade had finally gotten Allison to break away from her spot on the lawn. Together they walked up on the porch. Allison kept her head down as she stepped inside, but Jade eyed Kathleen warily, as if she expected Kathleen to bite her head off.

Which…wasn’t an unfair assessment. Kathleen had been nothing but harsh to her.

Kathleen took a deep breath. The words were still like rocks inside of her, but she managed to sculpt a couple into something intelligent. “Thank you,” she said and gestured out toward the lawn where they had all stood not minutes before. “For what you did. Putting the kids first.”

Jade nodded once and sidestepped around Kathleen as if waiting for Kathleen to pounce on her. Kathleen swallowed hard, but before Jade cleared the porch, she paused and turned around. Kathleen met her gaze and watched as Jade bit her lower lip as if pondering whether she should speak.

“Who were they?” Jade asked.

Kathleen’s stomach dropped. The thin defensive barrier she’d kept between her and the world had effectively been shredded by Jade’s simple question. A simple question loaded with blood and action. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said, breathless.

Jade raised an eyebrow at her. “C’mon. Seriously. You can tell me. There’s only a couple of events in a person’s life that will give them that look in their eye.” She jabbed a finger at Kathleen for emphasis. “I would know.”

Kathleen’s cheeks flushed. She couldn’t meet Jade’s eyes but shook her head, looking at the ground. Jade had pinned her to the spot.

Jade made a sharp, pointed noise and took a few steps closer toward Kathleen. “You know, when I pointed the gun at gas station clerk, I was filled with terror. It was like a piece of ice inside of me. Freezing everything except the animalistic need to survive. I’ve known men like that before. I’ve been in worse situations with men like that, too. I didn’t want to be in it again. I thought, why should a piece of scum like that be allowed to live and hurt other people? Hurt another young woman like me?”

Jade paused as if waiting for Kathleen to fill the silence. Kathleen cleared her throat, desperate for this conversation to be over. Jade continued to speak. “It’s okay to be scared,” she said softly. “Fear is the thing that helps you survive. It’s letting go of it afterwards that’s hard.”

“Why did you do it, though?” Kathleen finally managed to ask. “How can you just forget about it?”

“I haven’t,” Jade said. “I’ve been scared every day since I pulled the trigger. You don’t just get over stuff like that, you know? I see it every time I close my eyes.” She looked up into the sky. “At the same time, I know I’d probably do it again. Matthew and David didn’t see the guy’s comments as threatening, but it’s different for a woman. To me, it was a clear threat. Not even thinly veiled. He would have taken everything I had all because he could. He’d have power over me and would take advantage of that. I want to call it self-defense, but I’m not sure the term fits, since he really didn’t do anything but make me feel unsafe. I think you know exactly what I’m talking about, though. Whatever happened to you, your life might not have been in danger like mine, but you were terrified.”

Kathleen’s mind felt as if she were drowning. Jade’s words echoed in her brain superimposed over the image of Andrew Lang’s face. She felt as though her heart had stopped. Maybe she was having a heart attack.

“I know you’re hiding something,” Jade finally said after Kathleen left another silence unfilled. “You’re not unscathed. The rest of your family walks on glass around you. They don’t want to set you off. Even if you don’t talk about it, it’s still there, still leaving its marks. You’ve changed and your family is trying to figure out how to handle it.”

A howl built inside of Kathleen’s chest. Jade had voiced the fears she’d been fighting ever since she made it back home. All her attempts to be normal and eliminate outside threats to her family had ended with her being the emotional trauma that was scarring her children and husband. She was what was wrong with the family.

Her breath escaped her in a whoosh. Jade suddenly seemed like a safe, neutral party who wouldn’t judge her. Jade only knew this Kathleen—she’d never met the Kathleen of before. The Kathleen who had never…

Had never…

Murdered. The Kathleen who had never murdered someone.

“I killed someone,” she whispered and her voice cracked. “Shot him in the neck. Watched him bleed out. For Allison. They wanted to…keep her. Use her. And I couldn’t. Jade, I couldn’t.”

The story poured out of her like a lanced wound. She explained everything in a rush and watched as Jade’s face softened with empathy before hardening with a new kind of respect. After Kathleen had finished telling her everything—even about how she’d watched Andrew bleed out on the concrete—Jade tightened her ponytail and said, “Sometimes death can be preferable to what could happen on the road. You had to defend yourself and your child. You wouldn’t let Allison be taken by anyone like that, would you? Would you kill him again if you could have a re-do on life?”

“I’d do it again,” Kathleen said, feeling cold inside at the realization.

“You were being threatened. Mine was only a perceived threat. If either of us had a right to defend ourselves, it was you.”

The validation eased something inside of Kathleen. Jade had nothing to gain from Kathleen’s story. She had an outsider’s perspective. She could tell Kathleen that Kathleen hadn’t scarred her daughter for life. She could tell Kathleen that Kathleen hadn’t ruined her marriage. Jade might not be a friend, but she was a woman who knew what it was like to hold a weapon in the face of a terrible situation and pull the trigger. Kathleen realized that made her kind of an ally.

“Thank you,” she whispered again.

Jade gave her the ghost of a smile. “Do you think…” The smile widened as if she was feeling foolish, but she pressed on. “Do you think Matthew and David will ever forgive me? Do you think one day you might accept me?”

Kathleen paused. Even if she still felt wary of Jade, there was a kind of mutual respect being molded inside her. At the same time, she wasn’t sure she had the right to give Jade any kind of forgiveness, especially when she couldn’t even forgive herself. For a moment, her motherly instincts told her to give Jade a soft answer, but Kathleen knew the young woman deserved better than a placating brush-off. For Kathleen, everything came down to family. So that’s where it would stay.

“If you keep putting family first, we’ll all get there,” she said.

Jade nodded as if in agreement and stuck her hands in her jean pockets. “Good enough for me,” she said and then looked past Kathleen. “Hi,” she said. “Find anything?”

Kathleen turned and saw Matthew approaching them carefully with a guarded look on his face. “Didn’t see anything,” he said sharply. “Maybe we should all call it a day. Get some rest and relaxation. It’s been stressful. I could use some time off.”

“That would be nice, actually,” Kathleen said, thinking of lying down in bed and perhaps actually getting some sleep for once. Matthew climbed the porch steps and stood close to Kathleen. His body seemed strung with anxiety. Kathleen patted his shoulder and he started to go inside the hotel. Kathleen followed, but turned when she noticed Jade wasn’t joining them. She put her hand on the doorframe and asked, “Are you coming?”

Jade looked over her shoulder and the sunlight illuminated her profile in stark relief. “I’ll be in soon. I need some air.”

“Okay,” Kathleen said softly. She knew the feeling. Sometimes, there was nothing you could do for your memories but to let them play out somewhere safe. Somewhere where you could be alone.

She closed the door gently, hoping that Jade knew it would be open for her.

17

Some might say that David Riley was an impatient man. Mainly, his wife.

Some might say that David Riley was a suspicious man. A cautious man. Mainly, his son.

Others might say that David Riley was one stubborn son-of-a-gun. Mainly, that was everyone who knew him, including David himself.

Self-reflection consumed David as he finished out the day and furiously crafted a plan. So far, he’d managed to get his family to see his side in most things—his greatest victory had been bringing Jade into the Riley fold—but he’d have to take drastic steps if he was going to prove to Matthew that they needed to meet with the mysterious people at Carpenter Country.

He and Matthew had always struggled in the way of fathers and sons, but now that the world had completely changed, David realized that the two of them had been fighting so much because they were likely subconsciously attempting to settle who the real man-of-the-house was. David knew his son was desperate to keep his family safe, and he was proud that he’d raised a son with those deep-seated values. At the same time, he’d seen that same desperation slip other men too far into paranoia. Now, he saw that Matthew was certainly perceiving the world as his enemy and not as a place that needed to be treated with care and caution. And Matthew’s willful blindness to the necessity of making partnerships had raised red flags for David.

Now it was time to take matters into his own hands. He didn’t want to start a fight between himself and Matthew, but time was running out. They didn’t have the luxury of debating and mulling over the situation. They didn’t have time to weigh the options.

After all, everyone would say that David was a stubborn son-of-a-gun. He’d protect his family at all costs, even if that meant defying his only son.

At least the Rileys were finally getting some alone time. As dusk rounded the mountains, David kissed Ruth and told her he was going to get a breath of fresh air. She put down her book about the local flora and gave him that small smile that told him she didn’t believe him for a second. But they’d been together so long that he knew she’d trust him.

He snuck downstairs and was happy to hear loud snores rumbling from Matthew and Kathleen’s room. His son had finally collapsed to get the rest he needed. Poor Matt would need it too, because David already knew the furious fight they’d have when David returned.

But if David could get them what they needed, maybe it wouldn’t be the final falling-out in their relationship.

He’d hated the way they’d left things after Matthew had found the note. More than that, he hated the gruff way Matthew had commanded him to stay silent about the ordeal. David had kept his promise, but, say it once and say it again, he was a stubborn son-of-a-gun taking matters into his own hands. Despite the tightness in his chest. Despite the wary flutter in his heart in response to the adrenaline.

He holstered the pistol around his waist, knowing that Matthew always kept the shotgun close. He avoided the creaking floorboards as much as he could as he walked out the front door. Zipping up his jacket, he paused on the porch steps when he spotted the slender form leaning against the railing, her head cocked up to study the emerging stars. David plastered a smile on his face and tried to relax. No use alarming her. “Lovely night,” he said to Jade as he walked past her and down the steps.

“You can say that again,” Jade said. “Where are you going this time of night?”

David paused, cursing inwardly. He turned around and looked at her. “Just going for a stroll.”

Jade raised an eyebrow. “Sure, and I’m just skinning a turkey. I’ve snuck out of enough windows in my time to know when someone is breaking out. You’ve got the look all over you.”

David winced. It was pointless to lie to her. He was never good at it anyway. “Matt and I found a note earlier today wrapped around a rock. From someone at Carpenter Country.”

“So, there was someone out there,” Jade said in a hushed tone.

“Yeah. We didn’t see them, but they asked us to visit them. Matthew and I fought about it—”

Jade snorted. “Figures.”

“—because he didn’t want to alarm anyone about strangers lingering around the property. He doesn’t want us to meet with them, but it’s a mistake not to take the opportunity. We need allies. So I’m doing it myself.”

“All the while keeping your promise to not tell anyone. Except for me ’cause I’m not part of the family, right?” Jade said. “Getting away on a technicality, old man?”

The girl sure knew how to keep him on his toes. “You know it,” he shot back, though his heart ached that she didn’t feel part of the group. Despite everything that had happened, Jade had proven herself to him with her hard work, grit, and determination. Even if she had shot him.

Jade walked down the porch steps to stand in front of him. “Well, where is this place, then?”

“I’m going alone,” David said, even as he pulled out the crumpled piece of dirt-stained paper he’d saved after Matthew had trampled on it. She should know, in case something happened to him and he didn’t return.

“Don’t be stupid. I’ll be your backup. Matt would hit the roof if I knew about this and a) didn’t tell him, or b) let you go off alone. So, see, you’ve kinda recruited me.”

David chuckled. “Fine. You made your point. I’ve tricked you into subterfuge.”

“Pretty much.” She took the note out of his hands and read through it quickly.

“I think it’s south of us,” David said. “I don’t know who might want to meet us, but I’m ready to find out.”

Jade nodded in agreement. “You got a gun?” she asked.

David showed her the holster on his waist.

“Great, let me get armed.” She slipped in and back out of the hotel in no time. “Let’s go,” she said.

Together, they walked out to the property line and past the fence, taking the road that led down the mountain. The night was chilly, but David found it pleasant. He eyed the stars and marveled at how much he could actually see once he’d let his night vision adjust.

Soon, a gravel road split off from the main road. Jade stopped and pointed at the road sign bearing the name Carpenter Road.

“Worth a shot,” David said under his breath. He hoped that the road had been named after Carpenter Country or vice versa. Jade didn’t say anything, but followed David closely as they turned to walk along the road. Not too far down, they came across a sign hanging from a set of poles that read Carpenter Country: Gun Club in white lettering.

Jade came to a stop next to him. David’s shoes crunched the gravel as he glanced back at her. Not only was his night vision better, he felt as though his hearing had improved as well. Crickets chirped, and an owl hooted in the distance. He heard the flutter of wings and the breeze rustling through the pines.

Jade wore a concerned look on her face as she studied the sign. “Are you sure about this?” she whispered to David. “Like, absolutely positively we-shouldn’t-rethink-this sure?”

David tried to soothe the apprehension he felt that was reflected on her face. “Absolutely,” he said. “They reached out to us first. These are exactly the kind of people we need to be allying with.”

“Gun-toting, backwoods people?” Jade flashed a grin.

“People who know how to use weaponry effectively and are probably more prepared than we are,” David corrected.

Jade chuckled. “No need to be defensive. Just joking, old man.” Yet even her attempt at humor had an underlying tone of worry. She double-checked the gun in her waistband. “Time waits for no one. Lead the way.”

David nodded in agreement and took the lead, walking past the sign and toward a log-sided rectangular building in the distance. He heard a sharp grating crunch behind him, like a boot pivoting in gravel. He halted. His heart fluttered in his chest. Jade’s shoes wouldn’t make that kind of sound.

They weren’t alone.

“David—!” Jade cried out and was abruptly cut off.

David whipped around and saw a tall, bulky man wrench Jade’s arms up and behind her back. He was clothed in all black, nearly blending in with the darkness around them. He pushed on her elbow until Jade cried out and was forced to bend over to relieve the pain.

“Let go of her!’ David yelled and lunged forward, desperate to help her.

Jade’s green eyes glittered with tears. “Behind—” Again, she was cut off with a cry of pain.

Suddenly, something hard collided with the back of David’s head, filling him with agony. He collapsed to his knees. The world tilted to the side. He felt blood rush down the nape of his neck. Blinking, he realized he was collapsing to the ground in slow motion. A man loomed over him, clothed in black, with the butt of a rifle aimed toward him. A splotch of blood coated one of the sharper edges.

David gasped. His heart thundered with adrenaline and terror. Just before unconsciousness overtook him, he cursed himself, realizing his terrible mistake.

* * *

David fought through the darkness of unconsciousness, the throbbing in his head mimicking the weak beat of his heart. Panic dumped into his bloodstream. As he rose to wakefulness, the moments of before flashed before his eyes, making him relive how he’d been unceremoniously taken out by blunt force trauma. There must have been Carpenter Country scouts defending the area, and when David and Jade had walked onto their land in the middle of the night without an announcement, they must have taken them for hostiles. And acted accordingly.

Idiot, David thought. You should’ve thought of that.

He realized he was lying on a creaky bed. He shifted and let out a groan, grateful that the pain eased as he expressed it verbally.

“I think he’s coming around,” a male voice nearby said.

“David! David, wake up!”

Jade.

He opened his eyes a crack. Jade’s worried face filled his field of vision. His heart gave a pathetic squeeze and he felt a wave of disappointment wash over him. He hated being so weak, hated that he had to keep such a close watch on his ticker at all hours. Jade’s ponytail had come loose and her dark hair framed her face. She grinned and he groaned again in response. “Rise and shine,” she said.

A dark-haired man stood next to her, his own hair cut high and tight. A black goatee framed his mouth. The stranger held out a glass of water to David. “Sorry about my friends knocking you out,” the man said. “They were playing it safe. Are you thirsty?”

David’s vision swam. He eased up on one elbow and was grateful when Jade helped him up into a sit. He took the glass of water and sparingly sipped. The water was tepid, the glass half-full, and David started to put two and two together. “So you’re the mysterious Carpenter Country Gun Club,” he said, eyeing the man.

The man stepped back and crossed his arms. “I’m Wyatt,” he said.

David eyed the cinderblock walls and realized that he was blinking at the harsh glare of an electric light swinging above them. “You have electricity?” he asked.

“Crazy, huh?” Jade said. “I asked the same thing.”

A kind smile broke over Wyatt’s face. “Yup. Couple generators in here will keep us up and running for a while.”

The world stopped sloshing and finally David was able to see straight. A couple of old paintings of wildlife had been hung on the walls. Wyatt wore a button-up shirt and jeans. His sleeves were rolled up, and David caught a glimpse of the tail end of a tattoo spilling out and down his forearm. Familiar. He took another sip and felt as if his brain was rewiring itself. Finally, he put the image together with some old memories. “Marine?” he asked.

Wyatt glanced at his arm and laughed. “Yeah. Good eye.”

“Army,” David said, patting his own knee.

“What are the odds,” Wyatt said, and pulled his shirt sleeve up further to let David see the full tattoo. “It’s a pleasure to meet another who’s served. Now I feel even worse that my friends knocked you out.”

“Well, we must’ve looked like raiders. I would’ve done the same thing,” David said.

Jade nudged his shoulder. “Wyatt here is eager to meet the hoteliers at the River Rock Hotel,” she said, saying the words as if they were incredibly formal.

“Yes,” Wyatt said, sounding hopeful. “We’re looking to start a negotiation with them about trading supplies. Do you know them?”

“You’re in luck,” David said as he finished the water. “You’re staring at one of them.”

Wyatt grinned. “That’s great to hear. Honestly. We’ve been trying to figure out how to approach people without getting shot or run off.”

“What kind of things are you looking to trade?” David asked.

“Water, mostly.” Wyatt’s eyes flickered to David’s empty glass. “We’re running low. We have a few bottles left, but most of our gallon jugs are almost out.”

David shook his head in disappointment. “I’m sorry to say we’re in a similar state. We have bottles of water, but not enough to share.”

Wyatt looked confused. “I’ve lived in Galena my whole life,” he said slowly, “I played on River Rock land when I was a kid. You guys do know you have a well, right?”

David felt stunned and then abashed. He looked at Jade to see if she would confirm. She shrugged. “I guess I didn’t,” David said.

Wyatt chuckled. “It was pretty run down back in the day, but it definitely worked. We used to throw stones in and listen to them plonk. It might not be functioning now, but I bet with some work and love, it could be up and running in no time.”

Hope blossomed in David’s chest. “If we could get it working again, we wouldn’t have to worry about fresh water,” he said.

“I could help you fix it up,” Wyatt offered. “Maybe you’d let me and mine have access to it. I could even help you locate it.”

David pondered for a moment. “We’re in need of a lot of things,” he admitted. “Would you be open to trading other things in exchange for water?”

“Things like bullets?” Wyatt asked.

“Are you reading my mind?” David asked with a laugh.

“Nah,” Wyatt said. “I just saw your family dry-firing yesterday. I figured if you were doing that, you must be low on ammunition.”

“So you’re the one who’s been watching the hotel. You’ve given my daughter-in-law quite the scare on more than one occasion.”

Wyatt looked ashamed. “I am sorry about that. I was being cautious.”

“It’s all right. Just rethink your tactics next time, or we wouldn’t have wasted a bullet thinking someone was after us. Yes, we are running low on ammunition,” David admitted. “We wanted to conserve our resources as much as we could.”

“I hear ya.” Wyatt pulled up a chair and sat in it and pointed at Jade. “This one almost took out one of our guys while we were bringing you in. Almost fired her gun on us.”

Jade snorted without shame. “Shouldn’t have tried to break my arm then,” she said.

“We explained to her that we were looking for partners,” Wyatt said to David. “If the River Rock would be willing to work with us, we could make a fine partnership to get through whatever has happened with the world.”

“I’d like that,” David said, “but I do need to speak with my family. Especially my son.”

“Understood,” Wyatt said. “If you could do that sooner rather than later, I’d be most appreciative. I can give you my water jugs to show good faith while we find the well. Or, I can give you the empties and you can bring them back once you’ve found the well. Then we can trade for ammunition.”

David felt as though Wyatt was pressuring him. The man must be much lower on water than he’d first led David to believe. “I’ll need to talk to my family first,” he reiterated.

“Of course,” Wyatt said and stood up. He gave David a strained smile and took the empty glass. “I’ll get you more before you head back home.”

“Really, you don’t have to,” David protested.

Wyatt waved him off. “No use being alive if you can’t be kind,” he said, and left the room.

As soon as he was gone, Jade turned to look at David. “Matt will not be happy,” she said. “He won’t agree to any of this.”

David shushed her even as his determination became stronger. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I know my son. I’ll figure it out.”

18

Max’s breath whooshed out of him when one of Colin’s goons kicked him in the kidneys. He barely managed to catch his next breath before another kick landed in his stomach. He curled up in a ball on the pavement, but he knew that such a meager defense would only last so long. With four men attacking him, Max had very little time before he was roadkill. This was worse than any prison beatdown he’d endured. His legs curled up to protect his stomach. His arms crisscrossed across his head to save his face, but even then, he wasn’t able to stop a fist from colliding with his eye. His healing ribs began to ache again as the new beating opened up old wounds. He could barely think.

If he didn’t act fast, there would be no way he would survive this. Out here, Colin didn’t have to worry about guards breaking up the fight. He could take his time, debilitating Max until escape would look like a dream. Max had to fight back before he was injured any further.

Blindly, he punched out and heard laughter above him. Colin and his gang thought Max was weak. Maybe he could use that to his advantage. He took a couple more punches and amplified his cries so he sounded worse off than he was. He whimpered and cowered, trying to look as small and pathetic as possible.

“Whoa, guys, take it easy on the little bird. We still need to take him back,” Colin said lazily.

Another kick caught Max between the ribs and he gasped in pain, but at least the frequency of kicks had lessened. Now was his only time to strike. He kicked out with his feet and heard the satisfying crunch and cry as his heel collided with an ankle. He rebounded onto all fours and rammed into the legs of another man, managing to topple the guy over him. He landed a couple of quick punches to the guy’s side before slithering out from under him and bolting down the freeway.

“Come back here!” Colin screamed behind him. “I said get back here, you piece of—”

But Max’s blood roared in his ears as he launched himself over the interstate and up the hill. The climb made his legs burn as he scurried around dead cars, crouching to stay low. Hopefully, he could lose Colin and his gang here, but their cries and the pounding of their feet were far too close.

He had no idea what to do. His sides ached and it felt as though he couldn’t bring in enough air. He hoped nothing inside him was bleeding or broken, because there wouldn’t be a hospital or doctor to come to his aid. Luckily, his bag was still attached to his shoulders, even though it felt as though it had been packed with bricks. He might be able to manage some kind of treatment with the first aid kit.

Desperately, he started pulling on car doors. Maybe he could figure out a way to hot-wire one of them, but his head was swimming from a particularly well-aimed punch, and even if he found a likely car, he wasn’t sure he could manage. He might not have a choice, though. There was nothing else before him but miles of asphalt and dead vehicles with hardly any place to hide. He needed a moment of peace to think. To figure out what to do next. He’d almost rounded the top of the hill and could see the expanse below uncluttered with cars and a bridge crossing the small creek.

He dodged through a set of cars and frantically yanked on a copper-colored Isuzu Trooper from the ’80s. It opened, and he slipped into the driver seat, gasping for air. “C’mon, c’mon,” he said as he wrenched the plastic panel under the wheel down and out. In the rearview mirror, he caught sight of the shapes of Colin’s goons running up the hill. Getting closer by the minute. His hand naturally drifted to the stick shift.

“Hallelujah.” He laughed and pushed in the clutch, slamming the shift into neutral. The car was balanced on the pinnacle of the hill where it could go backwards or forwards. He rocked forward as if his weight would help and felt the give of the car begin to move on its own down the hill. Max placed his hands on the wheel and tried to steer it around a Ford Taurus, but the wheel jerked in his hands as if concrete blocks had been erected on either side. Steering column locked. Fear dumped into his bloodstream. Before him, the interstate was less cluttered than he’d seen, but vehicles were still parked on the road. There was nothing he could do but hope he could get through the maze without a serious crash. The need to put space between him and his attackers was like a blaring neon sign in the back of his mind.

The Isuzu skirted the Taurus, but still bashed out the side mirror. “Sorry!” Max said out of reflex and hoped that no one was around to see it. Moments later, the Isuzu rammed into the bumper of another small car, taking out the headlight with a crunch and crash. The Isuzu was picking up speed, and his world began to pass him by in a blur. He had no control. Looking behind him, he could see a man stopped at the top of the hill with his hands on his knees as if taking a breather. Another man started to gallop down the hill in chase.

“Please, please, please,” Max whispered, but whether he was begging the car to behave or the men to stay away, he couldn’t say. Probably both.

The Isuzu side-swiped another two-seater car hard enough that it began to drift toward the shoulder of the road at an impossible speed. Max grabbed on to the wheel, knowing it was useless, and tried to overcorrect to the right. Nothing happened. The wheel was locked. The Isuzu rammed into another bumper and jolted, skidding closer to the bridge railing. Max felt the top-heavy cab begin to roll. The railing loomed in front of him. He bellowed a wordless shout of terror and thrust his hands over his face as the square front bumper smashed into metal. The sudden collision sent the Isuzu rolling over the side and then Max’s world flipped upside down. Everything moved in slow motion.

He watched the trees turn upside down. His head cracked on something hard. I’m not wearing a seatbelt, he thought woozily, just before he heard a dim, faraway collision and the skidding splash like a rock skipping across the surface of a river. Everything went black.

He came to with a start. Blood ran down his forehead. Wiping it away in a daze, he realized the Isuzu had toppled over the bridge and landed right side up in the river bed. He tasted blood in his mouth. The neon sign in his brain was still flashing. Space. He still needed to get space.

Wrenching open the door, he collapsed in a heap on the riverbank. The water soaked his knees, but luckily, he had landed just off the side of the creek which was full with winter run-off. The laugh that bubbled out of his mouth sounded hysterical. His backpack was miraculously still affixed to his shoulders, and he felt deep bruising in his chest as he staggered to his feet and felt the pack weigh him down. Behind him, the car was smoking as he splashed upriver.

He dove under the bridge, nearly losing his balance and face-planting in the mud. He curled into a ball amid the mud and the yellowing scrubby bushes. The branches scratched at his face. He waited for the world to stop sloshing around him even as he heard cries echo above him. Everything sounded like a smear.

“—dead? Do you see him?”

“Useless piece, killed himself, idiot—”

“—getting that picture—”

He recognized the last voice to be Colin. He lay down flat in response, trying to pull the dead detritus that had fallen from the bushes over himself as some semblance of camouflage. The smell of gasoline filled his nostrils. Small rainbow-slick patches dotted the river and seeped from the crashed car. He saw one man peer over the side just before Max lost a good chunk of time to unconsciousness.

When he woke with his cheek pillowed in the mud, he heard footsteps in the water and saw two men inspecting the riverbank in the opposite direction. He blinked a couple of times and wondered why they were heading…oh. They must have thought he’d jumped into the river and had been washed away downriver with the current. Which, if he’d been in his right mind, would have been a wise choice. He hoped they wouldn’t come back around and search this end of the bank. He didn’t know if he could fight back at this point. His body ached, and his thoughts kept meandering from pointless observations to terrified what-ifs.

He let out a shaky breath as the two men shrugged at each other and clambered back up on top of the bridge. He tried to measure the time, but everything felt somewhat lopsided. All he knew was that at some point, Colin’s search party departed and Max was once again alone. Shivering from cold and shock, he managed to pick himself up and went to inspect the car.

The front bumper was a mass of wires and bent metal. He peered inside, searching for anything of use, but found nothing. For a moment, he considered climbing back into the car and passing out, but if he had a concussion, it would be wise to stay awake for as long as he could. His mind made up, he stumbled back along the bank until he found a suitable place to climb back up near the interstate.

The road lay out in front of him, but where before he saw an easy path to Kathleen’s, now he only saw an open expanse of danger. Easily seen, easily targeted. Still, he didn’t know a better way to get to Galena without taking massive detours. He’d stick to the woods that ran parallel to the road and hope that the sick rolling sensation in his mind would abate.

Space, his mind reminded him. That was what he needed. He needed to put as much distance as he could between himself and Colin’s goons, as fast as possible. With a wince, he began to trot along the road, keeping to the shadows. He was close to Galena. Soon, he’d be back with his sister and his family. Everything would be okay. He could tell Kathleen everything that had happened, and they could laugh about all the stupid things Max had done. Together, they would figure out a way to keep Colin and his men away. She could point out all the things he should have done. He just had to keep going.

Keep going, he told himself, even as darkness began to tunnel his vision. Keep going.

19

By the time Matthew turned away from the property line to return to the hotel, he was in full-scale panic. He’d risen with the sun after a day of rest, rejuvenated, only to quickly discover that his father and Jade had gone missing. He’d checked all the hotel rooms, the kitchen, and the cellar. He even ran out to inspect the fenced property line to look for any indication of foul play. A struggle perhaps. Nothing. Maybe they were out taking a morning stroll. Maybe Matthew was just overreacting. Yet, they didn’t come back. He kept searching.

He found nothing. No sign of anything. Kathleen had told him that she hadn’t seen their mysterious Carpenter Country visitor watching the hotel the night before. Matthew simply didn’t know what had happened. David and Jade were just gone.

The sun was starting to outline the mountain vistas when he finally spotted two figures walking up the driveway. Matthew saw red. The fear that had driven him all morning seemed to suddenly transform into an inferno of rage. What did his father think he was playing at—just disappearing in the middle of the night? Without a word? A warning? Making Kathleen pace? Making the kids exude that reserved, quiet fear?

Matthew burst out the door and power-walked down the road to meet them. He tried to calm his breathing, but his hands were clenched into fists. He felt ready to explode. “Where have you been?” he hissed when he was close enough. “Do you have any idea how scared we all were? How scared I was—oh god, Dad. What happened to you?”

One of David’s eyes was black and bruised. A dried slick of blood marred his neck. David looked at Matthew with a mixture of shy shame and defiance before glancing at Jade. Matthew’s anger rekindled. Why did he get the sense that the two of them were in cahoots? The way they stood close together reminded him of when he’d find Allison and Patton plotting something they weren’t supposed to.

“We went to meet the Carpenter Country,” David admitted slowly, as if the admission was like pulling teeth.

If Matthew thought he was angry before, now he felt like a kettle overflowing with steaming hot water. “You went where?” he demanded.

“Carpenter Country,” David repeated, and it was as though he’d found his confidence again. He squared his shoulders. “I asked Jade to accompany me. We found out it was a gun club run by a man named Wyatt. Wyatt Carpenter.”

“Oh,” Matthew snapped as his fury begin to poison his heart toward his father. “And how was your social call with Wyatt Carpenter?” He felt betrayed, like David had stabbed him in the back. Why did his father insist on butting heads with Matthew? Suddenly, it felt as though they weren’t in this together. They were on opposite sides of a divide, and neither was trying to reach the other.

“Wyatt served as a Marine,” David said, sounding disapproving of Matthew’s sarcasm. “He’s part of a community of neighbors in Galena and members of the club who are working together to survive.”

“Survive, is it? I thought you had some semblance of a survival instinct. Why would you put yourself in danger like that?” Matthew said and gestured toward David’s face. “Looks like they treated you really well.”

David let out an aggravated sigh. “Don’t think of it like that. You’re missing the point entirely.”

“Enlighten me, Dad.”

“Jade and I made steps toward finding an ally. Partners with supplies that are willing to trade with us.”

“What kind of supplies does this Wyatt have to trade?” Matthew demanded, putting his hands on his hips.

“Well, not supplies exactly—”

Matthew threw his hands up in the air.

“They have ammunition,” David insisted. “A vast wealth of knowledge far beyond what we know. What even Jade knows. More than that, they’re a community willing to help each other. That is invaluable, Matthew. They could help us rebuild the hotel. Wyatt is a Galena native. He knows the area and the people—”

“So is Samuel,” Matthew said. “Do you think maybe he could help us out too? Help us fix up our hotel? Maybe we should just give it to him since he probably has a wealth of knowledge like Wyatt.”

David frowned at Matthew. “I am still your father, Matthew. You do not need to speak to me that way.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you gave me an ounce of respect,” Matthew shot back. “You think you know how to do everything, Dad. Even if people think differently than you, you still go ahead and do what you want.”

“I will not answer that. I know that I’m doing the right thing. Did you know that there is a well on the property? An actual working well? I bet you didn’t.”

Matthew bit the inside of his cheek and tried to keep the vitriol inside him from leaking out. A jealous seed bloomed inside of him. Why did it feel like everyone else was better at handling the apocalypse than he was? He thought he and David could be a team. He never thought his father would turn on him like this.

Matthew resolved to take the high road and stomped down on his anger. He had to think about the overall health of his family. “No. I did not know there was a well on the property.”

Jade pushed her hands into the pockets of her jeans and looked between David and Matthew in discomfort.

“Like I said,” David continued, “Wyatt played on the property when he was young and asked for the use of our well. In exchange they would be willing to trade ammunition. Since they’re in the gun club, they could probably manufacture bullets so we would never run out. We would always have a means to defend ourselves.”

“They could teach us how to manufacture the ammo on our own, too,” Jade piped up. Her voice was small and uncertain. She looked as if she wanted to bolt from the argument as fast as possible.

“I don’t want to hear a word out of you,” Matthew snapped at Jade. She seemed to be the linking factor between David’s lack of foresight and the troubles he had been experiencing with his father. “I can’t believe the two of you have been so reckless. If these people are so great, why would Wyatt be watching the hotel and us? Why wouldn’t he come and introduce himself? Not sign the letter he sent? All my concerns are valid, Dad. This Wyatt hasn’t acted in any way that inspires confidence in me. And now you want me to endorse this strange alliance when my father has come back looking beaten to a pulp, spouting all this nonsense?

“Matthew, see reason.”

“I do see reason,” Matthew said, “but you seem to forget that I have a family to protect. Wyatt has terrified Kathleen by spying on us. She barely sleeps. Allison sleeps way too much. I can’t risk aggravating their fear, or putting them in harm’s way, not when all of this backroom dealing has been done without consulting any of us. I can’t risk them. They’re too important to me.”

David’s mouth dropped open in frustration. “And you don’t think they matter to me?” he demanded. “I’m just as concerned about them as you are!”

Jade’s face went white as if she already had pieced together what Matthew was leading up to. “Matthew, please, just hear us out,” Jade said, cutting David off.

“I’m not doing this. If there’s a well on the property, that’s fine and dandy. We’ll look for it this afternoon, but otherwise we are going to stick to what we know. Each other.” Matthew glared at David.

“You don’t get to just make that decision on your own,” David said.

“I learned it from you,” Matthew shouted. “Isn’t that what you did when you went to see the Carpenter Country? Make decisions without consulting others?”

“You’re the one who made that decision in the first place,” David yelled back, his face flushing red. “You’re acting like a dictator where every decision that doesn’t line up with what you want is the wrong choice. We need to be pragmatic. A reciprocal relationship will go a long way toward helping us in the future. If you’re so worried about our family, you would see that!”

Matthew stepped closer to his father, using his height to look down on him. Words bubbled in his throat, ready to hurt. Jade reached out and put her hand on Matthew’s chest, pushing him back. “Matt, I hate to say it, but I can’t believe you’d be this naive. Maybe you’re just being willfully ignorant. But even you should be able to see how this would be beneficial to everyone. David found the best possible solution to solve our problems!”

Matthew turned on her. She was nothing but a mole in their family, spreading trouble, turning them all against each other. None of this would have happened if Jade wasn’t here. “Not our problems,” he hissed. “My problems. You’ve done nothing but help turn this family against each other. The fact that you went with David in the first place proves that you can’t be trusted. You don’t care about what the rest of us think just as long as it is helping you. You’re a bad influence and can’t be trusted. I won’t sit around and wait for you to turn on us.”

“Matthew, that is enough.” David looked furious. “She came with me because I asked her to—”

“I don’t care.” Matthew turned to Jade. “Your time at the River Rock Hotel has come to an end. You need to leave. Now.”

20

A moment of silence followed Matthew’s declaration. Jade’s mouth pursed into a tight line. Tears wet her green eyes, but this time, they seemed to be tears of anger more than anything else. She gave him a hard stare until Matthew had the uncanny sensation of being back on the interstate, right before he realized he was going to have to fight her. He re-lived the fear he’d experienced when she turned on him and his father and held them at gunpoint as they traveled together on the highway. He remembered his terrified determination to wrench the gun away from her and chase her off.

He realized, in a moment of sharp clarity, that Jade had never been on his side. She’d used him and his family for her own gain. She’d carved out a place of safety for herself and then wielded her influence on each of them. He felt like a puppet who had finally cut his own strings from his puppet master. Jade had always been that furious young woman from the interstate who had been hiding under a veneer of softness. She was nothing but a dangerous threat, and he felt even more set in his decision to let her go.

“You can’t kick her out, Matthew,” David said, breaking the silence. He sounded shocked, as if Matthew had acted way out of line. “After everything she’s done for us and our family, you can’t tell her to leave because it suits you.”

“I think I just did,” Matthew said, refusing to break Jade’s glittery stare.

“You’re acting irrational,” David continued, his voice rising.

Behind him, Matthew heard the front door of the hotel squeak open and closed. He let out a slow sigh. Of course, they’d have an audience for this big blowout. It was for the better, though. At least everything would be out in the open now. Everyone would see Jade’s true colors. Matthew couldn’t back down. He realized that to his dad, he would never be able to do anything right. Therefore, Matthew would protect his family, even if he had to protect them from themselves.

“What’s going on out here?” Ruth’s calm voice pierced through the anger charging the air. Matthew heard his mother walk down the steps. “We can hear you shouting from inside the hotel. David, where have you been?”

Matthew heard Ruth take in a sharp breath.

“What happened to your face?” she asked, and then suddenly she was at David’s side, canting his head to the side so she could get a better view of the purple darkness encircling one of his eyes. Her fingers hovered over the dried blood streaking his neck as though she couldn’t bring herself to touch it. “You have a huge lump on the back of your head,” she finished.

“Dad and Jade thought it was a good idea to sneak out of the hotel without telling any of us,” Matthew said. He hated how surly he sounded, as though he were tattling on his own father.

David glared at Matthew as Ruth continued to inspect his hurts. “I’m not a child. I did not sneak anywhere. I left last night to check out a group of people at the Carpenter Country Gun Club. They’re the ones who have been watching the property—”

“Spying on the property,” Matthew corrected.

“Watching the property,” David reiterated. “They tried to contact us. I wanted to see if I could set up an alliance with them, or possibly trade with them.”

“I don’t remember anyone coming to the hotel yesterday,” Ruth said, glancing between her husband and son. “When did all of this happen?”

“They left an unsigned message tied to a rock. When we were dry firing yesterday and inspecting the fence, we stumbled on it.” Matthew shifted side to side, feeling dread begin to fill his insides. Suddenly, he was fighting the sensation that he had done everything wrong and was only now realizing he would have to face the consequences.

“And instead of bringing it to the group for consideration, Matthew decided all on his own that we wouldn’t tell the family about any of it,” David accused.

“Matthew, is that true?”

Matthew spun around to see Kathleen standing on the porch, bracketed by Allison and Patton.

Matthew’s mouth went dry. Why did he suddenly feel like the bad guy here? “I didn’t want to scare anyone. The whole thing was sketchy. It was so strange that they left a message without actually approaching us. That they were watching us instead of talking to us. I didn’t want to alarm anyone or make anyone blow the situation out of proportion.”

“And instead of telling us about it, you decided to investigate all on your own, David?” Ruth demanded in a steely tone. “Without telling anyone where you were going and making us worry all morning? Was that why you went on a walk to get some fresh air?”

David looked down, chastised. “I had Jade as my backup.”

“Oh yes, Jade,” Matthew sneered. “Jade convinced you to go instead of warning us that you were going to do something as insane as visit a gun club in the middle of the night.”

“I did nothing of the sort!” Jade broke in.

“Did she encourage you, then?” Matthew asked, wanting to blame Jade for everything. “I get why you might not have any sense, Dad, but Jade certainly knows a lot about the outside world to know that approaching unknown people at night is a bad idea. That’s why she can’t stay here. We can’t trust her.”

“I am not a fool, Matthew. Stop acting like I am,” David said.

Matthew felt as though the conversation had spiraled out of control, but he was too angry to see through it. The one source of all this conflict, to him, was Jade. She was the source of every fight boiling between him and his father. She was the reason they continued to butt heads instead of talk things out. Maybe if Jade was gone, they could get back to who they used to be. “That’s why she has to leave. She can’t stay here anymore.”

Jade’s face flushed in fury. Behind him, Allison made a noise of negation. “Dad, you can’t just throw her out!”

“She can have supplies,” Matthew said, turning to look directly at Jade. “After all, you did help us out around the property. I’m not heartless. Take food, water, whatever you think you’ll need, but that’s it.”

Jade’s hands clenched into fists, but then she took out a hair tie and began to pull her waves of dark hair up into a ponytail. “You can keep your supplies, Matthew Riley,” she hissed. “I’ll be fine without your pity. You forget that I’ve been on my own for most of my life. I don’t have a family, but at this rate, I don’t think I want one. You’re so determined to do the opposite of the right thing, I don’t think I can stand to stay here. You refuse to plan out anything and because of that, everyone you love will suffer. Even if you asked me to stay, I wouldn’t.”

Jade took a step closer to Matthew and squared her shoulders. It was as though now she had her hair back, she’d regained her confidence. “I can’t stand incompetence, and Matthew, you’re full of it. Your ego is so big you can’t see that in this situation you’re completely at a loss about what to do. You want to protect your family, but you can’t see the skills that everyone brings to the table. I escaped a family like yours once, and I’m ready to escape it again. Like I said, keep your supplies. You’ll need them more than me. Later.”

Jade spun on her heel and nudged David in the shoulder. “Bye, David. Nice knowing you. I’d ask you to come with me, but I know you won’t.” Shoving her hands in her coat pockets, she began to walk down the road away from the hotel.

“Jade, wait!” Allison called out after her, but when Jade didn’t look back, Allison turned on her father. “How could you do that? After she’d worked so hard to earn your trust?”

“Does this mean we won’t have any more gun lessons?” Patton asked at the same time.

“Patton, that’s the last thing you should be concerned about,” Kathleen said, taking Patton’s shoulder and directing him back toward the door. “Why don’t the both of you get dressed and ready for the morning chores. We can discuss all of this later.”

“I still think you’re in the wrong, Dad,” Allison said before putting her nose in the air and going back inside.

Matthew watched Jade round the corner and disappear from sight. He felt a weight lift off his shoulders, even as another weight of guilt descended upon him. He sighed and ran his hand down over his face.

“She’s right, Matthew,” Ruth said as she focused on David’s wounds. “You need to see what each of us brings to the table.” She shook her head slowly and tugged on David’s hand. “You, David, are the same way. You can’t keep things from people, but we’ll talk about that when we get back inside. You need your heart medication and probably a good nap by the look of you.”

“Of course,” David said and then said, “Ruth, honey, I am sorry.”

“We will talk about this,” Ruth said in a harsh tone. “You’re not off the hook. I’m furious with you.”

David swallowed hard, but nodded in agreement.

“And I think your wife has a few select things to say to you as well, Matthew.” Ruth held her head high as she walked up the front steps and into the hotel.

The sense of dread inside Matthew increased. Soon, it was just him and Kathleen standing outside, and from the way she crossed her arms, he knew he wasn’t in the clear. Not by a long shot.

21

“Enlighten me, Matt,” Kathleen started and tossed her dark braid over her shoulder. “What is all this about the Carpenter Country that you kept from us?” She took a deep breath. “That you kept from me?”

Matthew stifled an inward groan. He knew he needed to come clean. There was already so much space between them, he didn’t need to cause another divide. He explained everything to Kathleen: about how they’d found a note tied to a rock, how Matthew had elected not to pursue the possible alliance, how David had gone behind his back and done it anyway.

“I think what we need to be most concerned about in this whole situation is that you and David both decided not to confide in the family about this.” Kathleen took a step down off of the porch. Her arms were still tightly wrapped around her torso. “You said we were all in this together. Then, you make decisions that affect all of us without consulting me or even your mother. Do you recognize how insulting that is?”

“I was only thinking about your well-being,” Matthew protested. “You’d been so worried about everything, you barely sleep as it is, I thought telling you about this would just make everything worse.”

“I’m not an invalid,” Kathleen snapped, but her voice didn’t have the scalding bite he’d expected. She almost sounded sad. “Nor am I a hysterical woman who needs her husband to protect her. Yes, I’ve been concerned about our family, but I have my reasons. You shouldn’t have kept something like this from me.”

“I know,” Matthew said. He sounded desperate to himself. “I’m sorry.”

“You can’t make unilateral decisions like that,” Kathleen said, pressing the point.

“I’m sorry,” Matthew said again, and even to him, it sounded hollow.

“Are you sorry for running Jade off?” Kathleen asked. A line of concern appeared between her brows. “After you’d preached about voting to keep her with the family?”

“She was a murderer, Kathleen. You have to agree with me on that. You’ve been wanting her gone since the very beginning.”

The color drained out of Kathleen’s face. For a moment, she looked as though she were going to be sick. “She was trying to earn your trust, and you threw it back in her face.”

Matthew’s throat clicked as he swallowed hard. He couldn’t keep saying he was sorry, even though he felt like that was the only thing that would soothe this rift forming between them. “Do you agree with what she said about me? That I’m weak and arrogant and idiotic?”

Kathleen reached out and brushed his arm. Her hands drifted to his and entwined their fingers together. A tight knot inside of Matthew eased at her touch. He clung to her. It had been so long since he’d been able to touch her and not have her turn away from him. “Of course not. I wouldn’t have married someone like that.” She looked up at him, and her chin wobbled as if she held back tears. “I’m always going to be on your side, Matt. You supported me when I voted against Jade. I’ll always support you, even if you don’t do the right thing. And you know you did the wrong thing in running Jade off.”

“She manipulated my dad,” Matthew said hotly. “She got him to go to the Carpenter Country without us. Ever since she arrived, everything has gone wrong.”

“Honestly, Matt.” Kathleen let out a watery chuckle. “Have you ever known anyone to get David Riley to do something he didn’t want to?”

Matthew laughed softly and studied the mountains for a moment. Right now, the jagged peaks looked like they were piercing the sky. “No, I guess not, but she encouraged him. She backs him and brings out his worst qualities. If she was really invested in this family, she would’ve told us what he planned to do.”

Kathleen gave him a pointed look, even though she looked like she was about to break. “Now you know what it’s like being left in the dark. David was her one ally in this family. I don’t think she’d turn on him. Maybe she thought she was protecting him”

Matthew nodded, finally seeing her reasoning, but not really believing it. He brought their clasped hands up to his lips and kissed her hands. It felt so good to be intimate with her again. Yet, the way she was looking at him, he feared a breeze would knock her over. She appeared so fragile. Barely hanging on. “I’m so sorry, Kathleen. Truly. But aren’t you a little bit happy that she’s gone?”

Kathleen looked away. The sunlight painted her face in a golden light, illuminating the color in her eyes. She bit her lip and for a moment, seemed suspended in agony. “No,” she whispered. “I’m not.”

“Why?” Matthew asked. “We couldn’t trust her. She could’ve turned on us at any moment. She’s a murderer, Kathleen.”

Kathleen flinched, as if Matthew had actually struck her. A soft sob escaped her. “Maybe she had her reasons.”

“For shooting someone?”

Kathleen’s mouth opened and closed as if all words had escaped her. Matthew pulled her closer, wanting her to lean on him in every way that she could. “Please,” he whispered. “Tell me what’s wrong. I know it’s more than Jade.”

She let out a shaky breath. For a moment, Matthew feared she wouldn’t open up to him and that he had destroyed the shaky bridge he’d been building. Finally, she spoke.

“When Allison and I were on the road, we were attacked. I don’t know if these men wanted to assault us or worse, but they tried to split me up from Allison. I had my gun. I tried to reason with them, but in the end I had to stand my ground. I couldn’t let them do anything to Allison. I…I chose to aim it at the leader, and I shot him. I got him in the neck, and he bled out in front of us. I killed him, Matt. I murdered someone, too.” She looked up at him, terror painted on her face. It seemed as though she was hanging on his next words.

Matthew felt like he’d been hit with a sledgehammer. Kathleen’s confession rang in his ears. He imagined the scene: Kathleen’s desperation, Allison’s fear, the way they’d most likely been pushed to the limit. The sound of a gunshot. Blood on the ground. He also imagined what could have happened and suppressed a full-body shiver. The alternative was so much worse.

“I murdered someone,” Kathleen repeated. “I’m just as untrustworthy as Jade. So how can you trust me and not her? How can you look at me the same?”

“Oh, my love,” Matthew said in a rush and brought her fully into the circle of his arms. She clutched at him and he felt sobs wrack her body. He held her tight. “You should’ve told me,” he whispered into her hair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared of what you would think,” Kathleen said, her voice muffled in his shoulder. “I was scared you wouldn’t love me anymore. So stupid, right? I thought that if I voted Jade out, I wouldn’t have to think about what I had done. That I could pretend it never happened. But then she stayed, and it was like she could handle everything so much better than I could. That she was stronger than me. I hated it. It felt like she was throwing her strength in my face. She was better at taking care of our family, taking care of the kids.”

“How could you think that?” Matthew asked, and pulled back so he could see her tear-stained face. “What you did was the strongest thing I’ve ever heard. You protected our daughter. You protected yourself. I’m so proud of you for doing everything you could to come back to me and save our family. I’d never think less of you because of what happened.”

Kathleen’s face softened with relief. “It sounded so awful when I said it to myself. I thought I would make it worse by speaking about it.”

“I wish you’d told me,” he said, brushing messy strands that had escaped from her braid behind her ear.

“I know. But Matthew, I thought you’d never forgive me. I thought you’d never trust me again.” Her voice cracked. “How can you trust me, then, and not Jade? We’re cut from the same cloth.”

“The situation was completely different,” Matthew said. “Jade wasn’t being threatened. She wasn’t protecting anyone but herself. That makes all the difference in the world.”

“It doesn’t,” Kathleen said. “I spoke to her about it. Matthew, if you want to forgive me, you have to forgive Jade. We have to make up to her what we did. Jade might not be family, but we made a mistake treating her like we did. We have to figure out a way to fix it.”

Matthew felt lost. His whole world had been upended, but at least now he could understand why Kathleen and Allison had been acting the way they did. Sorrow rushed through him about everything they had gone through. About the weight of the past that they all carried. About how the world had changed, and thus stripped them of the innocence and happiness they had once known. They could be happy now, but they were all scarred from their experiences. He just hoped they could recover from it, and do it together. They were family, after all. There was nothing more important.

He opened his mouth to say as much, when a high-pitched shriek cut through the morning light. He spun around to look for danger, but only saw the empty driveway and the sunlight outlining the pine trees in bright green.

“What was that?” he whispered.

“It’s Jade,” Kathleen said, gripped his hand hard enough to hurt. “It has to be.”

“We don’t know that,” Matthew said, and he wondered when the hits would stop coming. When the world would stop testing them. “It could be a trap. We have to be careful, Kathleen.”

The shriek came again. He could just barely make out the words calling for help.

“No one else is that close,” Kathleen said. “It’s her, Matt. We have to help her.” She started to walk down the driveway but Matthew hung back. Their arms were like a bridge between them. Kathleen squeezed his hand once before letting go and started running down the road. With a curse, Matthew followed, knowing he couldn’t let Kathleen handle this on her own. They were together in everything. He had to prove that he trusted her. That nothing had changed between them. That, maybe at the end of the day, they could be stronger because of it all.

At the end of the driveway, Matthew saw Jade come around the corner of the road. A hunched figure was draped over her. She had one arm wrapped around the figure’s waist while the other balanced him against her side. Whoever she was dragging appeared broken and struggled to stand. She staggered under his weight and called out to them, “Help me! This guy is hurt!”

Matthew recognized that slouching posture, but he couldn’t put his finger on why until Kathleen let out a sharp gasp.

“Max!” she called, bolting for Jade. “Oh my god, Matt. It’s Max.”

22

Max heard his name being called out from far away. A set of strong arms helped him stand up. He leaned into the weight and focused on putting one foot in front of the other, but he honestly felt as though he was being dragged. The trees cast long swaying shadows over the asphalt. The bright sunlight nearly blinded him, and he squinted up into the blue sky. It still amazed him that he was outside in the real world instead of locked up in the metropolitan center of Chicago. Soon, the dark tunnel that had been closing in around his vision became a tight pinpoint of exhaustion. He might have lost consciousness. He couldn’t remember. All he knew was that he heard Kathleen calling out to him again and he forced himself to blink and look for her. He’d come this far for her, after all. Might as well pull himself out of brain trauma long enough to say hello. His brain trauma had other ideas.

When he came to, it seemed as though no time had passed. His lungs still ached from slogging up the hill to the hotel. His legs felt as though they’d been put on wrong. Points of pain echoed throughout his joints, but it was the internal ones deep inside that made him worry. He hoped it was nothing more than deep bruising. He’d brushed off his car accident as an escape, not a traumatic event, but was starting to realize that maybe he’d been injured worse than he initially thought. It didn’t help that he’d been beaten up, either. Beaten up twice.

The dark-haired young lady who had found him sprawled on the ground helped him to his feet and steered him along the road. Earlier, he’d tripped, not sure if he’d caught his foot on something or if it was due to his own clumsiness, and his quick twenty-minute break face down in the dirt had turned into an unconscious hour. He’d come to with her patting his cheeks and asking if he was okay, just before she’d pulled him to his feet like some kind of superhuman.

The young woman’s thin, but strong, arms fell away from him, replaced by two stronger supports. Max swayed and blinked, looking into the blue eyes of his brother-in-law. “Matt?” he asked, knowing he sounded incredulous, as though Matthew had dropped from the sky like an angel.

Matthew chuckled. “That’s the most excited anyone has been to see me in a while. Long time, no see.”

“Glad the two of you are exchanging pleasantries,” a familiar voice said.

Max grinned because he’d know that snark anywhere. He’d grown up with it, watched it sharpen from bratty sister to a wit that could leave him smiling against his will. “Aw, Kathy. You found me!”

“Are you drunk?” Kathleen asked, slinging Max’s other arm over her shoulder.

“Concussion,” Max corrected.

“You’re going to have to explain that one later,” Kathleen said as they rounded the corner and a large rustic hotel sitting in a clearing came into view.

“Wow, it’s really pretty,” Max said, hating how dumb he sounded. The mountains appeared black and stark against the blue sky. Pine needles drifted down from the trees in slow motion. The scent of clean water and freshly turned dirt reached his nostrils. He could imagine families trucking up here with their kids, taking nature walks and exploring the woods. Doing Boy Scout stuff, or whatever it was that people did on vacation. For a moment he held back tears, so happy he was here, and not anywhere else in the whole world.

“Max?” Kathleen’s voice floated around him. “Max, are you okay? You’re looking a little green.”

“Just woozy,” he said, blinking rapidly.

“Are you sure? Max, are you sure? Are you listening to me?”

Her endless questions actually comforted him instead of annoying him this time. He wanted to answer them, pleased that she had so much to say to him, but the black tunnel tightened again and he lost a moment of time before coming to with a jerk. “I’m okay,” he said, even as he felt a deep fear wash over him. Should he be passing out this much? “Seriously. I’m okay.”

Kathleen patted his cheek over the raw slap that Jade had left. “We are going inside, and then you’re getting a physical. You just fainted.”

“Lies,” Max said. “I might have passed out, but I would never faint.”

“Get the smelling salts,” Matthew murmured under his breath.

“Max, for once in your life, shut up.” Kathleen huffed in irritation and helped him walk up the front steps of the sturdy log entryway to the hotel. He stumbled, but Kathleen had become a terrifying force with a purpose, and Max was led up a series of stairs and dumped into a bed in a retro-styled room with tiny rose-bloom wallpaper. “Ouch,” he said, even though he hadn’t been in pain, not really, and Kathleen glared at him. “I’m getting the first aid kit,” she said and stormed out of the room.

“Don’t forget the smelling salts!” Max shouted to her back before that tunnel of blackness tightened and stole his consciousness for a couple minutes more. Maybe he shouldn’t have joked about fainting. He might actually need to be worried about this whole blacking out thing.

He woke with his body thrashing, momentarily disoriented, before relaxing when he saw the rose wallpaper. He squinted his eyes open. The room was quiet with the door halfway shut for privacy, but Max could still see the shapes and profiles of Matthew and the young woman who had saved him deep in a heated conversation just beyond his room. The young woman had her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, and the arms crossed tight over her chest set the tone for the scowl twisting her lips as she glared at his brother-in-law.

“No matter what you say, it won’t make a difference,” she said.

“Let me try, at least,” Matthew said, a hint of desperation coloring his voice. Max knew that tone—it was Matthew’s marketing voice, only instead of promising trends and interview opportunities, he sounded incredibly genuine. “I’m sorry for what I said. I’m even more sorry for what I did and how I acted. I made a terrible mistake based on a lot of my own assumptions, but also my own fear. Please forgive me, Jade.”

The young woman—Jade—snorted as if she’d heard that line one too many times. “Words are cheap, Matt. What are you going to do in an hour when I make you mad? Throw me out again? I’m not sticking around to take the brunt of your anger. I won’t allow you to take your fear out on me.”

“That was wrong of me,” Matthew quickly cut in. “I can’t apologize enough.”

Max shifted in his bed to see that Jade’s glare had intensified and Matthew’s mouth clapped shut. “Your mood swings are getting to me,” she said. “To be honest, I don’t care if you want me to stay or not. I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to be somewhere else—no, around other people that I can at least earn respect from. I don’t want to be where I’m not wanted, and you’ve made it perfectly clear where you stand on that issue.”

“You are wanted here,” Matthew insisted. “I didn’t mean to drive you away.”

“Your words say something way different than your actions.”

“At least stay the night. Leave in the morning. I’m positive you didn’t get any sleep while you were at the Carpenter Country. Spend the night, relax, and head out early tomorrow. Please.”

Jade hesitated and bit her lip. “Fine,” she said, her voice clipped. “One night. That’s it. Unless you throw me out earlier, that is.”

Max studied Jade as she spun on her heels and disappeared from his line of sight. Now alone, Matthew slumped as though all the fight had drained out of him. His face looked drawn and older, as if he carried an incredible unforeseen weight on his shoulders. It was a much different look for him, compared to the progressive eyes-to-the-stars marketing expert Max had always known. Whatever had passed between his brother-in-law and Jade…it had been bad.

A wave of dread flowed over Max and he eased back down so that he was lying in the bed. Jade seemed like a good person—she’d saved his life, after all—so what could have transpired between her and Matthew to make Matthew kick her out?

Whatever she’d done, Max would put money down that she hadn’t broken out of jail, stolen from a second-hand clothing store, beat up a prison guard, and enraged the cartel. He would put a whole wad of cash down because he knew whatever she had done, it was nowhere as bad as what Max had been involved with.

The thought was sobering. He’d toyed with the notion of coming clean to his family, or at least to Kathleen, but now that he saw that they were kicking out people who they most likely trusted, he wasn’t sure he wanted to confess anymore. Maybe he should just keep everything close to the chest until he could see how things played out. Or at least until his thoughts weren’t quite so mushy. His eyes drifted closed even though the situation made his stomach knot with anxiety.

“Max. Max, can you hear me? Max?”

Kathleen’s voice washed over him and Max groaned in response. He heard her chuckle before cracking his eyes open. Sunlight filtered through the windows, showing him that the bright morning had slid into an even brighter afternoon.

Kathleen hovered over him. A line appeared between her brows to illustrate her concern. “Two black eyes,” she said as if reciting a list. “Split lip. Bruises on your shoulders and all along your ribs. Head cracked open. Concussion, most likely, but I’m not a doctor. That’s all I can see right now. How many bears did you fight off to get here?”

Max laughed and immediately winced with pain. “Only a hundred.”

Kathleen tried to hide a grin by reaching around him and fluffing the pillows behind his head. Max took small pleasure in his ability to make her smile, even at his worst. Kathleen cleared her throat and said over her shoulder, “Matt? Can you find Ruth and see where that hot water and bandages are, please?”

Max heard a humming sound of acquiescence come from behind his sister and realized Matthew had been watching over him. His footsteps retreated away from them down the hall.

“Why does Matthew get a please and thank you, huh?” Max asked. “I only get yelled at.”

“Well, Matthew doesn’t have any internal bleeding or broken bones,” Kathleen said, matter-of-factly.

“Neither do I,” Max said, even though he wasn’t exactly sure.

“I’m glad you’re certain,” Kathleen said. “We don’t have any way to treat such injuries, and today is not the day that I lose my brother.”

Max snorted a laugh, even though he saw the dark shadow cross over Kathleen’s face. In moments, the door squeaked open and Ruth came in with a pot of steaming water between her hands and fresh washcloths slung over her forearm. Max knew Ruth was Matthew’s mother, but he hadn’t really spoken with her since Matthew and Kathleen got married. He gave her a tentative smile and wondered what kind of stories had been told about him to her. “I hope these injuries don’t ruin my good looks,” he joked as Kathleen ripped open three packets of pills from the first aid kit and handed him a handful of white tablets.

“Improved them, I’d say. Now take the pain pills.”

“That looks like a lot of pills.”

“Are you in a lot of pain?” she asked.

Max waited a beat. That assessment wasn’t something he could lie about. He nodded.

“Then it’s the right number of pills,” Kathleen said. She handed Max a bottle of water and he downed half of it in one go. Ruth set the pot on a side table and dipped the washcloths in, handing one to Kathleen. The two women set to washing his open wounds.

“I can do that myself,” Max said.

“When you stop passing out, you can,” Kathleen huffed and started bandaging his ribs.

Ruth chuckled. “Sibling rivalry, I see.”

“There’s no rivalry,” Max said. “Only victory.”

“Sometimes I wished Matthew had a brother or sister,” Ruth said, “but we were only ever just blessed with one.”

“They’re not worth it,” Kathleen said as she helped ease Max back down.

“I second that,” Max said, even as he let out a sigh of relief. His ribs felt tightly bandaged and secured, his face was clean of blood, and the cold compress Ruth handed him seemed to help with the swelling.

“Thank you for your honesty,” Ruth said as if suppressing a laugh. She stood and headed to the door. “I’ll give the two of you a moment alone.”

Kathleen sat on the edge of the bed and took Max’s hand. She squeezed hard. “What happened? How did you get out of prison? What happened to you?”

Max ached to tell her the truth. He wanted to tell her everything he’d been through. He wanted to whisper a confession to her that he’d been terrified for his life, terrified of her finding out someday that he’d wound up dead at the hands of Colin’s goons, left on the side of the road. Stupid Max, the pretty singing bird who bumbled through life and never got anywhere. He wanted to tell her all of this like they were kids sharing a secret in their pillow fort in the middle of the living room. He wanted to hold his flashlight under his chin and make her scoot closer in anticipation, wanted to tell her the things he barely admitted to himself most of the time.

But then he remembered Jade and her conversation with Matthew.

“The guards released us,” he said and hated that the lie came out so easily. “They pretty much abandoned the prison, so one day, they just opened all the cells up and gave us a fighting chance to survive on the outside. I walked most of the way here, but I look so crappy because I broke into a car. I managed to get it working, but the wheel locked up and I coasted off a bridge. Rolled the thing, even.”

There was, at least, some truth mixed in.

Kathleen looked aghast. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah. It was bad. That’s why I have a concussion.”

“I can’t believe they just let you out.”

Max swallowed hard as the truth welled up his throat. He couldn’t let it out, especially now that the lie had been spoken. It was a small one, anyway. Just a slip of the truth. He wouldn’t tell any other lies but that one. “Me either. But at least I’m here now. I found you, Kathy, even after the world ended.”

Kathleen’s eyes grew soft with tears. She let out a shuddering breath and held his hand as though it were precious. “Get some sleep,” she said, standing up and giving him a wobbly smile. “You look like you need it. We can talk tomorrow. I’ll probably come and check on you in a couple hours, anyway.”

She eased toward the door and turned back around. “Hey Max? I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Me too, Kathy,” Max whispered. “Me too.”

23

Everyone in the hotel felt divided, the awful feeling increasing throughout the day and into the night, as if everything had taken a side. It suffocated the room, transformed it into something otherworldly. Like…vampires and werewolves, or aliens and astronauts. While Patton generally liked that kind of stuff, he hated the tension because it just wouldn’t go away. His dad and Jade, for example. He couldn’t figure out why everyone was being so mean to her. Sure, she messed up—she’d killed someone!—but she’d taught Patton how to hold a gun, and she gave him these kind smiles that made him feel like he could do anything, and he knew she could teach him loads of stuff.

He liked people who knew stuff. He liked learning new things and bonding over that knowledge, and Jade seemed like one of those people who could teach him how to fight and shoot and build one mean compost toilet. Disappointment had washed over him when he found out Jade was leaving for good this time. He thought about asking her to stay, wanted to swear to her up and down that he thought she was swell, but Allison had shot him one of those don’t-you-dare looks which shut Patton down. Usually, he liked to make Allison give him those looks. She spent too much time on her phone anyway, but ever since the Apocalypse (and that’s how Patton liked to refer to it in his head, capital letter and all), she’d become a lot more serious. She felt like the paladin of their group.

Patton? Well, he was the warrior, obviously. A warrior still in his apprenticeship, but strong of heart nonetheless. Ever since Samuel West had been kicked out of their hotel, Patton swore he wouldn’t be weak again.

Warriors didn’t sit around and wait for things to happen. Warriors acted. Warriors protected their grandmothers and sisters and strangers on the side of the road because it was the right thing to do. Patton wanted to slay his fear, which lay curled inside of him like a restlessly sleeping dragon, just on the verge of waking.

For warriors, things were supposed to be black and white, but Patton was beginning to discover the appeal of shades of gray. He liked Jade, even though she’d hurt people. He liked his sister better since the Apocalypse, even though she slept way too much. He liked his dad acting all ruthless and kicking Samuel West’s butt. He wanted to be like that. Tough. No nonsense.

When he woke up the next morning and still felt the tension thick in the air, he decided enough was enough. He couldn’t sit around and marinate like meatballs in spaghetti sauce (as delicious as that sounded—he was so over Lucky Charms). He wanted to get some fresh air. Stretch his legs. Spread his wings.

The sun peeked over the tops of the mountains, and Patton wished he could practice his dry-firing. For a moment, he considered sneaking one of the handguns from his grandma or father, but that idea went out the window. He knew he’d be in deep trouble for that one, and not even the rush of disobedience was enough to make it worthwhile. So it seemed lucky, like toy-in-the-cereal-box kind of lucky, that when he leapt off the front porch of the hotel and started to walk through the fields, he came upon a very special stick.

It was long like the shotgun and smooth like the polished barrel, and he could tuck one end into his armpit while aiming the tapered point toward the birds that fluttered across the sky. It was almost as good as the shotgun his dad carried around. He pretended to aim at the branches and gave the stick a jolt in mock-firing, pretending that he’d absorbed the recoil effortlessly. He practiced keeping both eyes open while he aimed, even tracking clouds across the sky before mock-pulling the trigger. He pretend-shot the leaves, a rabbit that hopped across his path, he even pretended to shoot the sky. His marksmanship was flawless. He began to win awards. Crowds of fans put him on their shoulders with a rah-rah-rah and told him he was one of the best gunmen history had ever known. Better than Jesse James.

“Patton! Patton, where do you think you’re going? Patton!”

His grandmother’s sharp voice cut through his daydream. Patton sighed and lowered his stick, turning to see Ruth power walking toward him with her arms wrapped tight around her torso. Her shawl fluttered behind her in the light breeze. Okay, he probably should have told someone where he was going. But couldn’t a guy get a little peace and quiet? Did he always have to leave a note? Did everyone have to know where he was at all hours?

“I’m just playing, Grandma,” he said, showing her the stick. “Wanted to go for a walk. I’m fine—”

A heavy weight landed on his shoulder. The dragon of fear inside of him jerked awake and blew flames of terror into Patton, making Patton’s heart stutter. A hot wave rushed through him. Ahead of him, Ruth came to an abrupt stop. Her face reflected the same kind of fear churning inside of Patton and it reminded him of how she looked when Samuel West ruled the roost: helpless, worried, and frustrated.

The hand on Patton’s shoulder tightened painfully. Patton’s breath eased out of him in a soft gasp and he wondered with dread if Samuel had come back and now had Patton in his clutches.

“Come here, ma’am,” the voice behind Patton beckoned. “I’d like to have a little chat.” The hand was blunt-fingered and tattooed. Definitely not Samuel’s. When Ruth faltered, the hand on Patton’s shoulder turned into a viselike grip, and he let out a small squeak of pain. He could feel the person’s fingers digging into his skin, probably leaving bruises.

Ruth took a couple reluctant steps closer. She looked grave. “Let him go, please. Please, I’m begging you.”

“Hush, ma’am. None of that. I’m not here to do him any harm.”

Ruth was close enough that Patton could see the stark dread on his grandmother’s face, and he felt helpless. Once again, he’d failed. He wasn’t a warrior. He was just a stupid kid who kept getting into messes. He was the person who got kidnapped, who had to be saved all the time. Some kind of warrior he turned out to be. He was the damsel in distress.

“What do you want?” Ruth asked and tightened the shawl around her as though it were her own armor.

“I’d like to introduce myself,” the man said. “My name is Colin, and it’s very nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m here looking for information.”

Patton felt the man behind him shift, like he was bending over. Then he felt the man’s other arm loosely encircle his shoulders and a cold flat sharpness cut into his neck. Instinctively, Patton’s chin tilted up as if to avoid what felt like a knife blade, but instead, it only exposed his neck that much more. Ruth’s face took on a horrified expression, and even though Patton’s limbs felt like jelly, he tried to make his face stoic and strong for her.

The dragon of fear in him had taken flight, but he couldn’t let that turn his resolve into mush even as he blinked back tears. He wanted to be brave for his grandmother, but even so, his knees shook.

“Don’t scream,” Colin said, and it seemed as though he was speaking directly to them both. Patton didn’t think he could scream if he tried. His voice had dried up like a raisin. The man’s voice slithered in Patton’s ears like something oily and evil. “You won’t like what I do if you scream. Like I said before, I’m only looking for some information.”

‘What do you want?” Ruth asked, her lips tight with fear and rage.

“I hope you can answer some questions for me,” Colin said, moving the knife just enough so that Patton now knew what people meant when they said a blade could bite.

“Fine.” Ruth glared at Colin.

“Has a Max Patterson showed up around here?”

The hairs on the back of Patton’s neck stood up. His grandma’s face twisted, as if the question tasted bitter. Don’t tell him, Patton begged her silently. He knew that if she said yes, that Uncle Max was home, this Colin would do all kinds of terrible things. He might even be worse than Samuel West.

“Yes,” Ruth said after only a moment’s hesitation, and it felt as though she’d released a guillotine blade.

“How do you know him?” Colin asked.

Grandma, don’t. Don’t sell Uncle Max out. Warriors don’t give up.

Ruth’s pause extended into drawn out silence. A bird chirped overhead. The knife bit further into Patton’s neck, and he felt a slow, sharp stinging pain. “She’s being difficult, isn’t she?” Colin said to Patton. “Maybe, when I’m done with you, I’ll see to her and make sure she tells the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me god.”

I’m sorry.

“Max is my uncle,” Patton whispered.

“There’s a good lad,” Colin said, and the hovering presence over Patton lifted. It seemed as though he could breathe again. The sharpness against his neck eased back, even if he could still feel the blade edge every time he swallowed. “You’ve raised a good boy, ma’am,” Colin told Ruth. “I think I’ll take him for a walk. He seems like he knows the place. Maybe he can tell me a bit more, help me get to know it all better.”

“You will not take my grandson,” Ruth commanded. “You have what you want, now give him to me.”

“Grandson, huh?” Colin tutted. “You’ll get him back tonight. Tell Max he has until sundown to meet me at the gas station next to this quaint town’s welcome sign.” Colin snickered in amusement. “He would have passed it staggering up the hill after his little car accident.”

“I’ll tell him,” Ruth said, “but I can’t promise he’ll show. Please don’t take my grandson. You can have me instead. I’m sure he’ll come either way. The boy can run faster and tell Max sooner than I can. You’d be better off holding me hostage.”

Hostage. Patton’s stomach dropped. Guilt wrapped around his insides like black thorny vines. What kind of warrior got taken as a hostage?

Colin made a negative sound. “I don’t think that’s how this will play out, ma’am. I appreciate your imagination, though. Tell Max that if he’s not there, this kid will pay for his crimes, and he does have so many crimes.”

“Don’t you dare hurt him. He’s an innocent boy, he hasn’t done anything to you. Please take me instead—”

“Sundown,” Colin snarled and the blade dug back into Patton’s neck. Patton began to hyperventilate as he felt a trickle of blood move down his skin. “The welcome sign. The gas station. Tell Max. Now turn around, ma’am. We have to be on our way.”

Tears flowed freely down Ruth’s cheeks. “Please,” she whispered. “Please don’t hurt him.”

“Don’t make me ask you again,” Colin said.

Ruth’s eyes fell on Patton, and Patton felt every ounce of love she had for him in his heart. He wanted to be strong. Needed to be strong.

“What did I say?” Colin said.

Ruth’s chin wobbled, and she let out one gut-wrenching sob before she turned around. Her shoulders shook. Colin backed Patton up past the property line and further into the trees. Shadows crossed Patton’s face, and the last thing he saw before the wood swallowed them up was the tense, jagged line of his grandmother’s back, as sharp and dark as the mountains backlit by sunlight.

24

Matthew pulled on his coat and stepped onto the porch. You could cut through the tension in the hotel with a knife, he thought with a grimace. He’d spent his night awake, going over his actions and words of the last few days, trying to walk in Jade’s shoes to see life like she did. He oscillated between feeling justified in his choices and chastising himself for being too hardheaded and stubborn. He couldn’t figure out if he was the good guy or the bad, and at some point when the moon had drifted halfway across the night sky, he decided life couldn’t be broken down into black and white. He and Jade were two different shades of gray, and he would have to live with that.

He wanted to apologize to her again, but he knew she didn’t value his words anymore. He knew he could be arrogant sometimes, dismissive of others’ experiences—hell, just look at Kathleen’s old roommate Rhonda, he’d called her crazy as soon as he learned about her prepper background—and it seemed those old habits were rearing their ugly heads with Jade as well.

At the same time, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had done his best under the circumstances. His need to protect his family outweighed any sense of empathy he might have for Jade. He couldn’t shake that. So while he realized he needed to be a bit more compassionate, he couldn’t quite bring himself to say he’d done everything wrong. He’d done what he could for his family. He would continue to do so.

But a long night full of deep contemplation meant he needed some fresh air. It was early morning, but already the Riley clan was stirring and getting ready for the day. Kathleen had spent the night checking on Max on-and-off. Matthew smiled. He was glad to have his brother-in-law back home. Max and Kathleen had a somewhat strange relationship. It seemed to him as though one minute they were thick as thieves and the next they stood on opposite ends of the spectrum. He didn’t have any brothers or sisters, so he didn’t completely understand it, but it gave him the feeling that Kathleen could gossip and bad-mouth her brother all she wanted, but if anyone else did, they would face her sisterly wrath. Having Max at the hotel, she could get back on the old merry-go-round of picking on him, and that seemed to give Kathleen a distraction from her own struggles, a purpose to focus on. For a little bit, she had that familiar glimmer in her eyes.

Outside, the sharp, clean mountain air filled his lungs. He breathed in deep and decided to take a stroll along the fence perimeter. It had become habit at this point to check the fence line and search for any indication of trespassers. After the Carpenter Country incident, Kathleen had reported no one lingering around the property or spying on them, but Matthew knew that Wyatt was one man out of a million on this planet. Anyone could meander up to the hotel with ideas in their heads. Better to be safe than sorry.

Summer had truly begun to take root. The air had lost all hints of spring chill, and Matthew started to sweat in his coat. A warm breeze danced by him, making the pines rustle. He heard a plop as pinecones fell from the boughs and watched as squirrels scurried to the next food source, already thinking ahead to winter and preparing for it.

Maybe I should think like a squirrel, Matthew thought with a smile. Patton might have some tips. The kid had a huge imagination and a unique way of viewing the world.

The sound of hitched, gasping breath cut through the chitter-chatter of birds and small woodland creatures. Matthew came to a stop. His heart began to race because he knew that desperate crying. He’d only heard his mother cry a few times in his life, and always when something terrible had happened. When his father had had his heart attack, Ruth had broken down at one point, her wrenching cries like nails to Matthew’s heart. He always felt so helpless when his mother cried. He’d never forget the sound.

He started to run toward the sobbing. Soon, he saw her hunched shape kneeling in the tall grass just beyond the fence line. He dove for her, crashing to his knees beside her. His hands wrapped around her shoulders as he pulled her face up to look at him. No bruises, no cuts, no bleeding. She seemed physically to be fine, but the agony in her tearful eyes sent a chilling fear rushing through him.

“What happened, Mom?” he asked and hated that a tremor of childish fear seeped into the question. Even as a grown man in his prime, the sight of his mother reduced to such a fragile state made him feel young and helpless again. He would do anything to make her feel better.

The words came out too fast, as though she couldn’t catch her breath. “Patton,” she gasped. “Patton.”

Matthew’s eyes widened as he stared at his mother. “Patton? What about him?”

“He…he…” she started before another round of sobs clutched her, seeming to steal her voice.

She’s having a panic attack, Matthew thought. He held his mother tighter, this time hoping to support her. Even though he wanted to shake her and force her to tell him what had happened, she looked like any additional pressure might break her. “It’s okay,” he said. “Let’s get back to the hotel, somewhere safe where we can talk. Can you at least tell me if he’s unharmed right now?”

Ruth looked over her shoulder and seemed to shudder in agony, but she gave a nod. Matthew urged her up to her feet and she leaned heavily against him. She’d never looked so frail before, never so old. She felt like a bundle of sticks in his arms, ready to collapse into a heap. Matthew began to panic in response and felt as though her fear and grief were seeping into him. If it had to do with Patton, he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear what she had to say. At the same time, the parental protectiveness in him wanted to demand that his mother tell him what she meant.

Together, they managed to make it back to the hotel. Matthew helped Ruth sit on the front porch steps and urged her to put her head between her knees and take deep steadying breaths. Ruth obeyed and after a couple of deep, sob-ridden breaths, she seemed to calm down. Matthew knelt beside her and took her hands in his. “What happened?” he asked again. “Can you talk now?”

Ruth nodded and wiped at the tears on her face. Her usually tidy bun was falling out of place, and a stray leaf was stuck to her graying hair. Her eyes were reddened from crying. She took a fortifying breath and clutched Matthew’s hand. “Patton,” she said. “He went to play outside without telling anyone. I saw him leave and got dressed to follow him. He was pretending to dry-fire with a stick.” Ruth covered her mouth like she was trying to hold in her own fear.

The hair on the nape of Matthew’s neck stood on end. “What happened?” he asked.

“I was going to tell him to come back inside, that he couldn’t leave without telling someone where he was, but then there was someone behind him. A man. He…he put a knife to Patton’s neck.”

“He did what?” Matthew said, hearing the sharp edge of rage in his voice. Anger flowed into his bloodstream at the thought that anyone would dare threaten his son in such a way. “Who was this guy?”

“I’ve never seen him before, Matthew,” Ruth said, sounding broken. “He had tattoos all up his arms and on his shaved head. He introduced himself as Colin. I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

“He doesn’t sound familiar to me either.” Matthew frowned and struggled not to bombard her with questions. Her panic had receded, giving her the familiar calm that Matthew was used to. He couldn’t push her. He didn’t want to cause her to break down again.

“He took Patton,” Ruth said. “He told me to turn around, and—I had to do what he said, Matt, he had a knife under Patton’s jaw and Patton was bleeding!”

“You did the right thing,” Matthew said, squeezing her hands. “It would have been worse to put him and you at risk by making the man angry.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Ruth said, as another volley of tears cascaded down her cheeks. “I just let him take my grandson. I didn’t even fight.”

“What could you have done?” Matthew asked. “This Colin was armed and had Patton in a terrible position. I would have done the same. But what could he possibly want with Patton?”

Ruth fell silent, her face collapsing into a guilty expression. She wouldn’t meet Matthew’s eyes. “Colin asked about Max,” she said quietly.

“Max,” Matthew stated, even as he saw red. That no-good son of a—

“Colin said he wanted to Max to meet him on the outskirts of Galena by sundown. That if he didn’t show up, Colin would…he would do something to Patton.” She collapsed back into a fit of crying and clutched her chest.

Matthew’s heart hammered in his chest. Of course, Max would come here bringing his problems. He liked the guy, sure, but there was something to be said about someone who got themselves mixed up with a cartel by running drugs. He didn’t know what beef Colin had with Max, but he was going to find out. Especially now that Max had brought danger to their doorstep.

“I’m gonna go talk to him,” Matthew said, and something in his face must have scared his mother because she looked at him with awed, if wide, eyes.

“Don’t do anything foolish,” she said.

“I’m going to find out why this person took my son. I’m not going to have my family mixed up in whatever crap Max is in,” Matthew said hotly as he stood up. “If anything happens to Patton, it’s on Max’s head.”

Ruth jumped to her feet and followed Matthew into the hotel. They walked up to Max’s room and Matthew burst in without any warning. His fear had ignited a new bomb of anger inside of him. First, David went against his wishes and went to the Carpenter Country, putting himself in all sorts of danger. Now, his brother-in-law had brought new problems to their door—problems that had resulted in his son being kidnapped.

Max was sitting up in bed and sipping on a bottle of water. He looked at Matthew with concern. “Hi,” he said but Matthew was done with pleasantries.

“Who the hell is Colin?” he demanded.

Max’s face went from exhausted-white to a gray-green color. “How do you know that name?” he asked softly.

“I’ll ask again, Max. Who is Colin?”

It seemed as though all words had left Max, and he seemed to be groping around for the right ones.

“Don’t even think about lying to me,” Matthew growled.

“Colin was in prison with me,” Max began, sounding as though he might be sick. “He was part of the cartel too. He’s been wanting to get revenge on me for accepting the plea deal I took. I gave up names and locations to the authorities in exchange for a reduced sentence, but doing that made me an enemy of the cartel. Colin has been after me ever since. I told you about the crashed car, but what I didn’t tell you was when I crashed the car, I was trying to escape them. Colin and some of his cartel friends had me cornered and were beating me up. That’s why I look like I do. They beat me up in prison, and then they beat me up on the road.”

“Why didn’t you tell us any of this?” Matthew demanded.

“I thought I’d lost them!” Max exclaimed. “I swear, Matt, I thought I escaped them.”

Matthew raised his eyebrow at Max. His brother-in-law was an expert liar, and he knew by the way Max tried to make himself look innocent—the earnest act—that he wasn’t telling the whole truth.

“He must’ve tracked me somehow. Maybe my marked-up map fell out of my backpack. I don’t know, but he must’ve found me somehow.” Max looked bewildered as though trying to present every scenario for consideration. “Matt, I would never willingly put anyone in danger.”

“You can tell that to Kathleen when you tell her that this Colin has kidnapped her son,” Matthew said, knowing his words were vicious and not really caring.

All the blood drained from Max’s face. “Colin has Patton?”

“Took him this morning,” Ruth said and crossed her arms. “Threatened him with a knife. To his neck. He said you have to meet him at the gas station next to the Galena Welcome sign by sundown or he’ll take out your crimes on Patton.”

“Oh my god.” Max swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I’ll get him back. Matt, I promise I’ll go right now. He can have me. I won’t let anything happen to Patton.”

Too little too late, Matthew thought. He stared at Max, wanting to strangle him. He wanted to haul the man down to Colin right this instant and give him up. The rage and fear that overwhelmed him was frightening. It brought waves of both recklessness and calm as he began to see everything in stark relief. Buying this hotel was supposed to create a peaceful, safe life for him and his family. It was meant to be an idyllic retreat, not just a business. Living in the mountains, being in nature, spending time together…it was all supposed to be a good thing. When the EMP hit, he thought the hotel would be a refuge from the outside. A place of safety. Now, it seemed as though the hotel had become a twisted representation of everything bad and wrong in the world. Even more than that, Matthew had been mistaken. No place was ever going to give him a sense of security or peace. Not in this EMP-transformed world. Not now. Not ever.

“I get why you lied to us,” Matthew said, wanting Max to hurt. “But why would you lie to Kathleen?”

Max went still.

“She’s the only one that matters to you anyway,” Matthew said. “You don’t care about me or your niece or nephew. As long as you can keep Kathleen on your side, she’ll always support you. So why would you lie to her about something like that? Did the prison really just let you leave?”

“Please don’t tell her that,” Max pleaded. “I do care about you and the kids. I’m not using Kathy, I’d never do that. I wanted to be home with my family. I can explain. She’ll understand.”

“With our son gone? I wouldn’t bet on it.” Matthew’s hands clenched into fists.

“I escaped from prison,” Max said in a rush. “Colin was going to murder me. No one was going to stop it. Please don’t tell Kathleen. I’ll tell her in my own time.”

Matthew glared at Max. “Fine. But you will come clean about Colin, do you hear me? You will get my son back.”

“Yes,” Max said, getting to his feet and swaying unsteadily. “I promise you.”

* * *

Matthew called a family meeting. They sat down in the parlor, which Matthew had begun to see as a kind of courtroom. It was here that they’d decided on Jade’s desire to stay with the family. Here, they’d talked about and defeated Samuel West. Even though it had only been a few short weeks, it felt as though years had passed.

Matthew saw Kathleen give him a smile and then turn that smile into a supportive one to Max. Max didn’t return it, looking white as a sheet, and Kathleen frowned. Matthew reached out and took her hand. “What’s wrong?” Kathleen asked him in a lowered tone.

“Take a seat,” he said gently to her.

She did so next to Allison, her eyes flickering between Matthew and Max. Her hair was tied into a sturdy braid, and the dark circles under her eyes had lessened. Matthew knew the acceptance she’d cultivated regarding the things she had gone through on her travels to the hotel would soon be shattered.

“Where’s Patton?” Kathleen asked.

“Kathy, I gotta tell you something,” Max said in a rush, and even though the whole family and Jade had gathered together, it seemed he wanted to speak the truth only to her. “I…Kathy, I wasn’t released from prison. I escaped. The cartel were going to kill me. I was beaten up bad in prison. When the electricity started going out, guards started disappearing, and I knew it was only a matter of time before I ended up dead.”

Kathleen looked horrified.

“So I escaped,” Max said in a rush, “but then other people escaped, too. One of them, this guy named Colin, has had it in for me because of my plea deal. He’s with the cartel, and he wants my head. Well, he followed me here and this morning…” Max faltered, and he swallowed hard, as though finding his courage. “This morning he tracked me down and kidnapped Patton.”

David swore under his breath. Allison had gone pale. Jade’s mouth tightened into a thin line.

“This can’t be happening,” Kathleen said in a rush. “Patton’s been taken by the cartel? Max, how could you?”

“I’m sorry, Kathy,” Max pleaded. “I didn’t know. He wants to exchange Patton for me by sundown tonight, and I’m going to go to him, I swear, I’m going to get Patton back.”

“I can’t even look at you,” Kathleen hissed. “You lied to me. Again! Now my son is in the hands of some monster, and all you can say is sorry? He’s only a child, Max!”

“Kathy, I never meant for any of this to happen, but I’ll make it right. I’m going to make it right if it’s the last thing I do.”

“If you go to Colin, he’ll kill you,” Matthew said flatly. He studied Max’s face, looking for that overexuberance that indicated another lie, but instead Max looked solemn.

“I’ll do everything I can to get Patton back,” Max insisted.

“He’s going to kill you?” Kathleen asked, her voice rising into a screech of panic. A hand went up to rub along her eyebrow. “I can’t…Matthew, what are we going to do?”

Matthew bit his lips, resolved. He knew what they were going to do, and they’d do their best to save both Patton and Max in the process. He knew Kathleen would stop at nothing to get her son back, but losing her brother would do untold damage to her. He had to save his family—even if that meant saving Max so he could keep his wife. He turned to his father. “Do you think Wyatt Carpenter will still go for that trade? Water for ammunition?”

David’s face hardened with determination. “You bet he will. He’ll give us anything we need. He might even help us. We should try to convince him to come with us. He’s good people.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Matthew said and then turned to Jade. “Jade, I know you don’t think much of me, but you’re the best shot we have at getting Patton back. Please, I’m begging you. Stay and help me. You know Wyatt. You can help persuade him to come and help us get Patton.”

Jade studied him for a moment. A sinking sensation filled Matthew, and for a moment he was sure she was going to say no. She reached up and tightened her ponytail. “For Patton, I’ll help you.” She crossed her arms and fixed Matthew with a glare. “I’m still furious at you, Matt, but Patton deserves to be here with his family and not in the hands of some criminal. I’m doing it for him, though. Not you.”

“I’ll take it,” Matthew said. “Thank you.”

“I want to come too,” Max cut in.

Matthew shook his head. “I think we should stick with the three of us.”

Ignoring Max’s crestfallen face, he turned to his father, knowing they had a solid team to head into Carpenter Country with. “Let’s grab some supplies and head out to meet Wyatt.”

25

Max watched as Matthew, David, and Jade left the hotel through the front doors like heroes about to save the day. Now more than ever, he felt like the putz who ruined everything he touched. The laughingstock who ended up getting into more trouble than he was worth. Patton’s fate weighed heavily on him. He knew that even if—no, not if, when—they got his nephew back, Patton would still be traumatized. And all of that was Max’s fault.

Matthew was right to dismiss him. Even so, it didn’t stop the sting of rejection. He’d become a leper to the family and rightly so. First drug dealing, then prison, and now this. He wouldn’t be surprised if Kathleen chucked him out of the hotel right then and there. Closing his eyes, he cursed his stupidity. He should have been smarter and stayed away from everyone he loved. It was inevitable that he’d screw it all up and ruin everything, no matter his intentions. His heart climbed into his throat, and he felt he might suffocate under the weight of it all.

Behind him, the rest of the family stood in silence until Matthew and the others were out of view. For a moment, he considered turning away from the window, but he couldn’t find the courage to face their disappointment and revulsion. Soon enough, he heard the shuffling of feet moving away and out of the parlor until silence remained. Nausea clawed at his inside. His head swam. He needed to lie down and think. When he could finally tear himself away from the window, he plodded upstairs back to his room.

His ribs ached and his vision swam. When he opened the door to his room, he saw Kathleen sitting on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the wall. Her hands were clasped in front of her. He leaned against the doorframe as dread settled into his bones. His body hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain he experienced when she turned to look at him with such sorrow in her eyes. No matter what he did would never be enough to make it up to her, he knew.

“Sit down before you fall down,” she said and even her voice sounded a hundred years older.

Taking a deep breath, he inched around her to the other side of the bed and eased into it. As soon as he settled onto the mattress with the blankets flung over his legs and a pillow propping his head up, the nausea receded. He let out a shaky breath and prepared himself for the onslaught he knew was coming.

Kathleen remained motionless and seemed to stare at the wallpaper, taking a moment to reorient herself. Her shoulders hunched as if she dreaded their next conversation as well. She turned to Max and studied him, and Max was certain those few moments allowed her to peer into the very depths of who he was as a person.

“You lied to me, Max,” she said.

“Not exactly,” Max said and hated that he couldn’t, even now, admit the truth with humility. “I was in a car wreck. I just left out some of the other details.” He smiled sickly at her and felt a wave of self-loathing wash over him. He steeled himself for her to lash out and scream at him. They’d had some epic fights in their time, and he knew this one would outshine them all. Better to get it over with now, he thought, before it festers.

“It’s the same thing,” Kathleen said in a huff. Max recognized that indignation and he felt helpless—he wanted to be an adult and address the problem with a clear head, but he was getting pulled into old habits. Fighting with Kathleen was an old habit. Poking her weak spots was his specialty, and as the nausea returned, he realized he simply hadn’t grown up enough to act like he should toward his sister.

“I told you what I thought you should know. You didn’t want to hear about the crap I’d been through—”

“Why would you think that? Am I untrustworthy in some way? Unstable? Why would you think you could hide that from me?” Kathleen demanded

“It’s not that. I just didn’t want to get into it. I knew you’d react this way. You wouldn’t listen. All you’d hear is that I escaped from prison and committed another crime.”

“God, how can you be so irresponsible?” Kathleen said. “You never think about the consequences of your actions. This is just another example of that. All you do is think about Max. What about giving me a chance, huh? How did I become a person it was hard to tell the truth to?”

“How can you understand what I’ve been through?” Max demanded, sitting up in the bed. “I was terrified for my life. Someone was going to murder me, Kathy, and I had to look that man in the face almost every single day. I was constantly on edge, wondering when he was going to stab me in the back, or jump me when I was least expecting it.”

“You could’ve told the warden. What about the guards? They have protections against that kind of thing.”

“You see my ribs? The bruises on my back? I was kicked and punched until I was sure I wouldn’t get back up again. For the past year that I’ve been in prison, every day I wondered if it was going to be my last. Everyone I met might have been a potential enemy trying to get close to me. Don’t you get it, Kathleen? I was terrified every single day. The guards didn’t do anything. Sure, they pulled Colin off of me when they could, but the day I decided to escape, it was because I knew I wouldn’t live long enough to see my freedom. I couldn’t just take it lying down.”

“But you’ve only added to your sentence, Max,” Kathleen said, her voice rising. “Now you’re on the run. You’ve made us all accomplices. Not only that, but you’ll actually spend your life in jail.”

“I was never going to get my life back,” Max said, numb. “When I got out, the cartel would’ve come for me for ratting them out.”

“You dug your own grave, Max.” Kathleen’s shoulders hunched further. “Now you’re complaining that you don’t like the view? You’re the one who decided to sell drugs in the first place. You got involved in that whole lifestyle because you enjoyed the rush or wanted the easy way out. That’s what I’m talking about—these are the consequences of your actions! Face them, for once in your life.”

“You don’t understand,” Max said even as Kathleen’s words felt like barbs in his heart. He wanted to crawl in some dark hole and never come back out. He wanted to run away and never approach this topic of conversation again. Anything to get away from this room and his sister’s wrath.

“What don’t I understand?” Kathleen shouted. “Explain it to me.”

Max looked away from her and out the window. The sun made the outside look like an overblown wash of light. All he could see was a pale expanse of sky, and he felt as though he’d traded one cell for another. “You’ve always known what you wanted. You’re perfect, Kathy. You’re the good kid, the one who says the right things and never makes mistakes. Everyone knows that if something goes wrong, it’s on me. They look to you, saying ‘What did Max do now?’”

“I’ve made plenty of mistakes of late.” Max wrenched his gaze away from the window to see that tears had filled her dark eyes. One escaped and tracked its way down her cheek.

“Really?” Max said in disbelief. “Did you escape from prison and crash a car? Did you lead cartel members to your sister’s door? Did you get your nephew kidnapped?”

“Nothing that extreme,” Kathleen said in a poor attempt at a joke. “But you’re not the only one who had a rough experience getting to the hotel.”

Max felt uneasy. This whole conversation didn’t have enough screaming in it for his liking. Kathleen seemed too…withdrawn. Damaged, somehow. He didn’t like seeing that darkness touch his sister. “I have literal murderers hunting me down.” he said. “Even you have to admit that’s a new low for me.”

A ghost of a smirk crossed Kathleen’s lips. “Is that all?” she asked. He sometimes forgot that Kathleen knew all of his weak spots too. She knew how to get a rise out of him, and dismissing his experiences was one of his soft spots. “At least you didn’t murder anyone.”

Matthew gaped at her. Somehow, her statement had managed to steal his breath. The things he’d planned to say disappeared from his mind. The words reverberated inside his skull, and at first, he wondered if this was some sick attempt at a joke. But the way her mouth screwed up told him saying it out loud was painful, and he knew that she wasn’t joking. Quiet settled between them until Max gathered enough of a semblance of coherence to ask, “You what?”

Kathleen looked down at her clenched hands. “I asked you to be truthful, so I suppose it’s only fair if I am truthful as well. After we saw you at the prison, Allison and I were stranded in Chicago. Our car wouldn’t start. It was chaos. We were attacked by a gang who wanted to steal from us. We ran into them later, and their intentions worsened, to say the least. They threatened Allison.” Kathleen paused and licked her lips. “They hit me. They…did a lot of awful stuff. I tried to reason with them, but they wouldn’t leave us alone. I finally shot the leader with the gun I’d gotten from your safety bag.”

Max stared at her and felt a surge of rage fill him on behalf of his sister. “They hit you?” he demanded.

“I’m glad that that’s your reaction,” Kathleen said and tilted her head back to look at the ceiling. Her tears flowed freely now. “But yes. I had my reasons for shooting him. I didn’t intentionally kill him, but that’s what happened. I can’t take it back.” She swallowed hard. “It’s made it difficult to trust strangers. Jade and I haven’t had an easy time of it. But I don’t want to have to distrust my family too. Especially my brother. We have to stop fudging the truth and outright lying to each other, Max. We aren’t kids anymore competing to be Mom’s favorite. We need to be a team, but I can’t do that if you keep omitting stuff from the truth.”

She paused and looked at him fully before continuing. “If you can’t do that, then you don’t belong here. If I can’t trust you, it will be better if we go our separate ways.”

Her statement was like a bullet to the chest. The hurt exploded inside him when he realized Kathleen was willing to banish him from her life. He felt like he was a kid again, and Kathleen had taken his slice of the pie and that act had become a lifelong grudge. “You seem to trust Jade,” he snarled, trying not to show that she’d essentially gutted him. “She’s a complete stranger.” To his own ears, he sounded petulant.

Kathleen studied him for a moment. “If that’s what you’ve gotten out of this conversation, then we really are in trouble. As much as Jade and I have butted heads, she’s proven she’s trustworthy. She’s protected my children. Right now, Max, she’s acting more like a part of this family than you have. It’s not all about blood, Max. It’s about actions, too. Jade hasn’t lied to me. You have. I’ve come clean to you. Now it’s up to you to decide if you want to do the same. If there are any other secrets you’re hiding, you need to tell me now. I’ll always love you Max, but I’m a much different woman than the one who came and visited you in prison.”

Her words were like a cyclone that Max was swept up in. He felt battered and bashed with each new revelation. Kathleen was harder. That darkness hadn’t just touched her, it had seeped into her. He knew, now more than ever, that she was serious. He could stay or he could leave, but her conditions had to be met or he’d be thrown out.

Kathleen stood and walked silently out of the room, closing the door behind her. In the ensuing silence, Max felt the urge to cry, but held back his tears. It was a mistake coming here. Kathleen had changed and so had Max. Maybe they weren’t like two puzzle pieces that fit together anymore. Maybe life had roughed up their edges so that they could only bang their ill-fitting pieces together. They couldn’t get back what they once had. He didn’t see how he could stay and not have Kathleen question his every decision, looking for lies hidden under his every word, constantly searching for a reason to cast him out.

Max had always known he wasn’t a good person. His heart was always in the right place, but his decisions never reflected that. Even though Kathleen had killed someone, it sounded as though she’d been forced to and had no other choice.

Max had made a lot of bad choices in his life. The choice to get rich quick with cocaine instead of putting his nose to the grindstone and making something of himself. The choice to face Colin instead of running away. Now, another choice lay before him: get Patton back or let the poor kid take the brunt of Colin’s wrath.

Kathleen didn’t deserve any of this. Kathleen’s family didn’t deserve this.

Maybe this time, he could make the right choice after all.

26

For Max, the sun was the ticking time counter on the bomb of his life.

That bright yellow orb crept across the sky, and with each minute, Max was suspended in a sensation of awful dread. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was his last day on earth and he was simply letting it pass him by. He fell asleep on and off, but whenever he woke, he ached with remembered pain. The bruises lining his back seemed tender now. Looking out the window, he mulled over his life and analyzed every mistake he’d ever made, every lie he’d ever told, and he realized that each time he’d put his personal desires above any collective gain. At some point, he saw his reflection looking back at him in the window, a bare hint of his profile, and he said, “You’ve done nothing but make selfish decisions and wrong choices your whole life.”

It was time for him to break the cycle.

Matthew, David, and Jade still hadn’t returned. Max didn’t know how far away the Carpenter Country was, or if they had encountered trouble on their way, but he felt sick knowing they were doing it all for him. Matthew had pointed out that if Max gave himself up to Colin, Colin would kill him. Even though Matthew had his own son to worry about, his brother-in-law had taken Max’s life into account. That level of kindness was something Max didn’t know what to do with. He didn’t know how he could return that kindness.

The sun continued to tick across the sky.

Would Matthew come back at all? He lingered on the best-case scenario. Matthew would come back successfully, with ammunition and guns. They would attack Colin. They would get Patton back. Yet even with a sharpshooter like Jade on their side, they’d all be in incredible danger. It would be easier if Max simply gave himself up. No one else would get hurt except for him. Plus, no one knew Colin like Max.

Max knew Colin had a mean streak a mile wide. He knew Colin played dirty, and that he’d do absolutely anything for the cartel. Like a loyal rabid dog, he would do everything in his power to stay in the cartel’s good graces. If that meant kidnapping an innocent kid just to get at Max, Colin would do it. Max wouldn’t put it past Colin to be hurting Patton right this minute. The guy didn’t care about promises or deals. He only cared that he got what he wanted. And Colin wanted Max.

Kathleen didn’t need to lose her son as well as her no-good brother. Matthew and his family didn’t need to put themselves in danger just to save Max’s hide. Even Jade, who had saved his life when they’d never even met before, didn’t need to face Colin. Kathleen was right. He had made his choices, and now it was time to accept the consequences. The best way to avoid massive injury or death for everyone in the Riley family was for Max to turn himself over.

The realization settled something inside of Max. No, not the realization. His final decision.

He reached over to the side table sitting next to him and opened the drawer. Old hotel stationery and a pen sat inside. He picked up both items tentatively and somehow thought it fitting that he would be writing his goodbyes on brittle paper and a mass-marketed pen. Clicking the pen open, he began to scrawl a letter to Kathleen.

Kathleen,

You’re going to think this is dramatic, and maybe it is, but that’s the kind of guy I am. By the time you find this, I will be turning myself over to Colin. I’ll fight until my final breath to make sure Patton gets out, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to escort him back to the hotel. Tell him Uncle Max is sorry for getting him stuck in such a situation. I’m so sorry for putting you all in danger, for dragging that danger with me across the state from Chicago to Galena.

You’re right, Kathy. I do think about myself too much, and this time, I’m going to make the right choice. This is the right choice, no matter what you might think. I should’ve done so much better in my life. I should’ve never joined the cartel. I should’ve never been so stupid. But you’ve always known that. It sometimes takes me a while to realize things.

I’m so sorry to everyone, but I’m sick over what you’ve gone through for me, Kathy. You’ve always looked out for me, despite the times I’ve disappointed you. This time, I won’t let you down. I love you.

Max

With a deep sigh, he folded the letter in half and wrote Kathleen’s name on the front before propping it up against the lamp on the side table. He wasn’t a man of elaborate words, but he hoped his final explanation would help soothe any ill-will she held against him. He knew Kathleen would find the letter. She’d come back to talk to him at some point and spot it. He had to get out before she did. Otherwise she might try to stop him. She’d try to convince him to wait for Matthew, and Max knew he’d crumble beneath her insistence and then nothing would change. He’d still be the mess-up, the prison brother who always did what he wanted. Never the one who saved anyone or anything.

Not anymore. He wasn’t going to let anyone else be put in danger. It was time for Max to face his consequences.

As he rolled out of bed, he stifled a groan of pain. His body hurt so much. His muscles were as hard as rocks. The bruises covering his body were sensitive, and his ribs felt like bands of hurt as he bent to put on his socks and shoes. He let out a small cry as he slipped his jacket on. Was it just stiffness that was making everything hurt? Or was there some underlying cause?

It didn’t matter. He’d have a hundred new bruises by the time Colin had seen to him. He had to think of Patton. Of Kathleen. This was for them.

He snuck out of the room, careful to close the squeaky door gently behind him. The hotel seemed eerily quiet as he stuck to the shadows. He walked downstairs, keeping an eye out for Allison or anyone else. Escaping prison, escaping home. It was all the same at this point. It was the reason for his escape that made all the difference.

The soft murmur of voices reached his ears, and he backed up against the wall, looking around the corner to see Kathleen in close conversation with Ruth. Ruth handed Kathleen a basket of some kind. His resolution strengthened when the light caught Kathleen’s face and he saw the new lines forming around her mouth, the stress and tension still hunching her shoulders. It would be worth it to do this for her. She needed her son back, and Max would make sure that happened.

Kathleen and Ruth turned and headed toward the kitchen. Hopefully, it would keep them occupied for a while, but he had a sneaking suspicion that they might be preparing a meal for everyone. If that was the case, Max needed to hurry. Who knew how long it would be before Kathleen meandered upstairs to force him to eat, stumbled on his letter, and tried to follow him to stop him? He needed to get as much of a head start as he could.

Max slipped across the parlor and out the front door of the hotel. The sunlight hit his face, nearly blinding him. He wanted to run across the grounds, but with his injuries, he figured he might collapse before he got where he needed to go. Gritting his teeth, Max stumbled down the road, hoping that no one was looking out of the windows.

Kathleen wouldn’t be pleased when she read his note, this he knew. Kathleen would be furious at him, and he would accept her anger. Once she had her son back in her arms, though, she would forgive Max’s foolishness. She would understand why Max was doing what he was doing. She wouldn’t be happy, but she would understand. And that would be the only thing that Max could give his sister to make up for everything.

He would make this right, once and for all.

27

The conversation with Max haunted Kathleen like a ghost. She heard his voice even after she left his bedroom, explaining his lies away in that wide-eyed way of his. Kathleen was always open to accepting them, and she’d started to think of herself as a big slow fish that only saw the bait dangling in front of her instead of the hook it was on. She always ate up Max’s lies—hook, line, and sinker—but this time she couldn’t do it. Her experiences had changed her. She wanted a partnership with her brother, and she couldn’t be a sucker for him anymore.

She’d hoped her confession would make it easier for him to open up to her. That he would see the way she had changed for the better, and that she demanded he change in return. They weren’t kids anymore. They were two people stuck at the end of the world, and they needed to decide if they could be a team or not. She hoped they could. It would break her heart if Max rejected her, but at least it would be a clean break.

She looked out the window as Ruth handed her a basket full of clean washcloths. The sun was sinking faster than she liked, and there was no sign of Matthew, David, or Jade. Her heart clenched in worry, but she had to trust in her husband and the others. They had a plan to save Max and Patton. She just hoped they weren’t too late.

Tears pressed against her eyes as she thought of her son. She’d tried to compartmentalize her emotions, shoving the terror and fury about Patton’s fate into a box that she could ignore for the time being. If she opened it up, thought about how scared he must be, she thought she might become catatonic from the fear. She wouldn’t be able to move, or she might do something stupid, like try to take on Colin all on her own.

She was trying to be smarter in this apocalypse. She was trying to think about the whole of the group, rather than let her own individual fears rule her emotions. Matthew had gone to get Wyatt Carpenter. When he got back, they would retrieve Patton and he would be safe. He would be safe. He had to be.

A soft touch on her shoulder jolted her out of her musings. She turned a weary smile on Ruth. “Sorry,” she said. “Lost in my own thoughts.”

“I can’t stop thinking about him either,” Ruth admitted as they walked into the kitchen. “I feel sick thinking about what Patton must be going through.”

“We’ll get him back,” Kathleen said, knowing there could be no other option. It was the mantra she repeated to keep herself sane. She couldn’t think about living in this world without her son. Nothing could happen to him, and if it did…well, Colin would pay. “I know Matthew will return soon and we will be able to get Patton back.”

Ruth put her hand on Kathleen’s arm. She licked her lips, appearing as if she wanted to say something, but it was difficult for her. “I’m so sorry, Kathleen,” she finally said. “I didn’t protect Patton like I should have. I noticed him leaving the hotel without saying anything, but then I did the same thing. I didn’t let anyone know where he was or that I was going after him. I’m still having a difficult time learning how to survive in a world like this.” She took in a deep breath. “It’s my fault Patton was kidnapped. I didn’t fight hard enough for him. I should’ve done everything in my power to save him and get him away from that dreadful man, but I wasn’t able to. For that, I can’t apologize enough.”

Kathleen put her hand over Ruth’s. “You did nothing wrong,” she said. “What could you have done? Colin had a knife. I would’ve complied too, just to make sure that nothing happened to Patton. Don’t take the blame for any of this. I know I sound like a broken record, but we will get Patton back.”

“What if he blames me too?” Ruth said, sounding tearful.

Kathleen pulled Ruth into a tight hug. “He knows you would move heaven and earth for him. He loves you so much. Don’t think that he would ever stop.”

Ruth’s shoulders shook. “Thank you,” she said. “Matthew said something similar, but I keep imagining all the things I should’ve done better. If I could just go back in time and re-do everything…”

“Wishful thinking,” Kathleen said and pulled back so she could see Ruth’s face. She wiped at her own tears and looked at the meager offerings they had for food. “We should probably make something to eat while we wait for Matthew to come back. Not much else to do, and I’m going crazy waiting around. I figure we should all be fortified for what’s to come. How does that sound?”

Ruth nodded. “I’ll get Allison.”

“And I’ll drag my no-good brother down here.”

Ruth paused. “I know Max is troubled,” she said. “I can see that he loves you and the family very much, but I’m proud of you for drawing the line in the sand. He needs to know where he can and can’t push. Kathleen, that’s such a hard thing to do. It takes such courage.”

Kathleen was at a loss for words. She didn’t know what else to say and instead pulled Ruth into a quick hug before departing the kitchen. As she walked back up to Max’s room, she felt her steps become heavier. She didn’t want to start another fight with Max, but now that she had, in a way, given him an ultimatum, she hoped it didn’t change things between them. Her heart could only take so much.

His door was closed. She rapped three times and waited for an answer. Nothing. Maybe he had fallen asleep. She opened the creaky door and saw that the rumpled bed was empty. Frowning, she noticed that his shoes and socks—usually in a heap on the floor—were gone as well. A piece of paper sat folded against the lamp. Normally, she would dismiss something like that, but her name had been clearly written in large block letters on the front. Not just a piece of paper. A note.

Her throat closed up, and she thought she might pass out. She banged the door open as she dove for the note and flipped it open, standing next to the empty bed with her body as tight as a bowstring. She scanned the message. Max had never been a man of letters, but she felt his sorrow in each line as he apologized over and over again for what had happened. His self-deprecation made her insides clench with sadness. When she’d told him they needed to be truthful with each other, she didn’t think he would see it like this. She wasn’t asking him to sacrifice himself. She would never do that.

She ran for the window and looked desperately out. Scanning the grounds, she hoped she would see his limping form making its way across the road, but only the trees and jagged mountain line met her line of sight. When would Max have left? How far away was he? Did she have any chance of catching up to him and begging him to reconsider? She’d take back everything she said, that they could be as they’d always been. Nothing had to change. If only he’d wait for Matthew to come back.

The letter clutched in her hand, she ran downstairs and stumbled back into the kitchen. Allison and Ruth were talking softly at the counter and Kathleen flung the crumpled note down between them. “He’s going to give himself up,” Kathleen said. “He’s going to get himself killed.”

Ruth took the letter and opened it up, her eyes scanning the words. Kathleen trembled uncontrollably, her teeth wanting to chatter because her fear made her feel so cold. Ruth handed the letter to Allison and looked up at Kathleen with concern. “Did you see him outside? Did you check?” Ruth asked.

“I didn’t see him,” Kathleen whispered. The few strings that were keeping her upright and focused began to fray and split. The box where she’d kept her fear over Patton exploded and now in conjunction with Max’s disappearance, made her want to collapse to the floor in a bundle to scream out her pain and frustration.

“Mom, don’t cry, please,” Allison begged.

Kathleen realized tears were pouring down her cheeks, and when she opened her mouth to say that she was okay, that she would figure it out, nothing came out but a choked sob. Ruth rounded the counter and took Kathleen in her arms, holding her tight.

“Am I going to lose my family, Ruth?” Kathleen asked desperately. “I can’t lose them both. I won’t survive it.”

“We’ll get them back.” Ruth hugged her tighter. “Don’t worry. Everything will be okay. Patton is strong, and Max will do everything in his power to make sure they’re both safe.”

“What if Colin kills them both?” Kathleen clapped her hand over her mouth to keep the what-if away. “That exchange could mean nothing. They’re both in such danger.”

The door to the kitchen opened, and Kathleen looked around to see an unknown man step into the kitchen. His dark hair was cut close to his head in the same military style she was used to seeing David wear, and a goatee encircled his mouth. Kathleen waited for the punch of fear to overtake her, but she felt nothing but the same dread that seemed to follow her everywhere now. Somehow, she had reached her emotional limit and not even this stranger could scare her anymore. Behind him, she saw the familiar sandy blond hair of her husband and let out a small noise of relief. She took the note back from Allison and ran to her husband, pulling him into a desperate embrace.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, noticing immediately that something was amiss.

“Everything,” Kathleen choked out and she handed him the letter. Matthew’s eyes flickered from her to the rest of the people in the room, and he read the missive out loud. Everyone fell silent as Max’s words filled the room. When Matthew had finished reading the note, he looked at Kathleen with a strength she’d never seen before. “He’s gone to trade himself for Patton,” he summarized.

“There’s no guarantee that Colin will willingly give Patton up,” Jade said, sliding into the room to stand next to Allison. Two long-barreled guns were slung over her shoulder, and she laid them out on the table. They looked to be sniper rifles, but Kathleen didn’t really know.

“We have to go after him,” Kathleen said, letting the desperation building inside of her finally have a voice. “We can’t let Max get killed by a bunch of druggie-thugs who should rot in prison.”

“Kathleen,” Matthew said to her as he laid his own gun down on the table, “let’s think about things for a moment. No one is arguing with you. We will go after Max and we will get Patton back. We won’t let Max sacrifice himself.” Matthew looked up at the unknown man. “Wyatt and I have a plan.”

Kathleen turned to the newcomer and let out a wild laugh. “It’s a bit late for introductions,” she said. “I’m so sorry we dragged you into all of this.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Wyatt said. “I want to help. This Colin guy sounds like he’s only going to create problems for everyone around here, and I have a low tolerance for people who kidnap kids. Matt is right. We have a plan, and if I may be so bold, it might actually work in our favor that your brother took matters into his own hands.”

“Tell me exactly what you mean,” Kathleen demanded.

Wyatt smiled. “Good to see you have spunk, ma’am. We’d planned to have Max hand himself over to Colin, but now that he’s doing it willingly, the act is much more convincing. Colin won’t have any reason not to trust him.”

“Max will be convinced no one is coming for him,” Jade said quietly. “Colin won’t suspect that Max is lying. He’ll think he has everything he’s ever wanted and because of that, he’ll be sloppy.”

“And then we strike,” David wheezed, and plopped down in a chair. “We should get going though, before Max gets too far ahead of us all. If we wait too long, we won’t be able to save them both.”

Kathleen bit her lip, noticing that David was flushed and panting, as if the walk had strained his heart more than he wanted to admit. She would never forget the way David had looked in the hospital after his heart attack, and it seemed that that bed-ridden version of her father-in-law was returning. David looked about ready to fall over. Matthew frowned in concern at his father.

“Dad, are you sure you’re up to this?” Matthew asked gently.

David waved him off. Kathleen noted that Matthew and Wyatt exchanged worried looks.

“I do apologize for that lump on the back of your head,” Wyatt said “My men should know better than to knock the living daylights out of people, even if they are approaching our club in the middle of the night.” Wyatt grinned and David matched the smile. “Are you sure you don’t want to sit this one out?”

“I’ll be fine,” David said. “There’s no way I’m going to stay behind, not when my grandson’s life is on the line.”

Ruth stepped up closer to David and rubbed his shoulder. Her face was pinched with concern. David’s harsh breathing filled the room. Finally, Ruth shook her head and said, “I’m not sure that’s wise, David. You need to rest. Think of your heart. This stress will do you no good, and it will do everyone else no good if you suddenly collapse while we’re fighting Colin.”

Kathleen felt grateful and saw the sentiment reflected on Matthew’s face. She didn’t want David to risk his life by overexerting himself and putting everyone else in danger at the same time. Egos needed to be set aside. They all needed to think about the bigger picture: saving Patton and Max.

“I have to go, Ruth,” David said and he tried to stop his breathing from coming out so loudly. “I’m not feeble. I might have a black eye, but I can’t sit this one out. If it comes down to a firefight—and we all know it will—we will need every able-bodied person out there doing everything they can. I won’t back down on this.”

Ruth gave David a disapproving look, and Kathleen felt sympathetic toward her. If Matthew had suffered a heart attack in the past, she’d be terrified to let him go out into a gunfight where the biggest concern wasn’t bullets but the integrity of his own working body. If David did fall down and have another attack, no one would be able to stop to help him. He could very well die today. Kathleen wanted to cry again. The same awful thought bulged up into her mind, taking away her senses: Would everyone in her family die? When would they ever be safe again?

“If you’re decided, David, we can’t talk you out of it,” Wyatt said. “I know I’m an outsider here, but you can’t make a man stay back if he’s determined to come. Maybe just stick to the back though? You can cover us.”

David nodded and his breathing seemed to have eased. Ruth forced a bottle of water into his hands, and he drank from it greedily.

“Either way, we need to get a move on,” Wyatt said. “As David pointed out, the timing of this is critical and if we wait too long, Max might be a dead man before we get to him. Do you have any idea when Max left?”

Kathleen shook her head. “He couldn’t have more than a thirty-minute head start. Plus, he’s wounded and won’t be walking very fast. You can probably beat him to the gas station, if you hurry.”

“Perfect,” Wyatt said. “Let’s head out. We don’t want the whole thing to be over before the cavalry arrives.”

28

“We’ll need everything we can carry,” Matthew said as he loaded his pockets with ammunition.

“You got it, boss,” Wyatt said with a smile as he slung his own sniper rifle over his shoulder. A handgun was strapped to a holster around his waist, and Matthew couldn’t help but grin back.

As much as he hated to admit it, he was starting to like Wyatt. Hopefully, they could expand on the trade agreement David had promised when he’d first gone to the Carpenter Country Gun Club. Wyatt’s knowledge of the local area astounded Matthew and he grudgingly admitted to himself that he had made a mistake in not trusting his father’s instincts to connect with them earlier. The Marine had come to their aid and would be saving their bacon in more than one way. When they’d arrived at the club asking for help, Matthew had been first shocked, and then impressed, at the way Wyatt had acted. The Marine had thoughtfully listened to their predicament without interruption and then grabbed his own guns, already deciding to join their cause. His humility and kindness had been a stark contrast to the interactions Matthew had experienced since the EMP disaster, and it heartened him to know that there were still good people out there.

“Not sure he’s the boss,” Jade cut in, keeping her eyes focused on her own weapons.

For a moment, Matthew wondered if Jade said such a thing in a spirit of meanness, but he pushed down the instinct to lash out. Jade had proven herself invaluable on this trip, and Matthew realized he hadn’t been giving her the chance she deserved. Like Wyatt, she had also come to the Rileys’ aid, even when she could have left them for anywhere else. She’d put aside their differences to help Patton. Thus, Matthew was resolute that he would do his best to make her feel welcome. Even if she decided to leave in the end, at least he could try to make amends for the things he had said and done to her.

Matthew nudged David and said, “She’s right, you know. Pretty sure Jade is the boss.”

David looked surprised, as if he hadn’t expected Matthew to go along with the teasing.

Wyatt clapped Jade on the shoulder. “I don’t doubt it,” he said as he checked all of his pockets, as if to reassure himself that he had everything within easy reach. “All right, team. I’m ready to go.”

“Me too,” Jade said.

“Count me in,” David said.

“Let’s go,” Matthew said. He held his tongue about asking David once more to reconsider his role in this mission. Ruth had done her best to convince David to stay behind, insisting that his heart wasn’t strong enough, but David had refused to listen to her reasoning. In a way, Matthew understood, but he wasn’t sure what he would do if David’s heart started to fail him.

He had to keep his son in the forefront of his mind. David was a grown man, who’d made this decision to come along. Patton was a young boy and still in need of a father’s protection.

Together, they made their way out the front door. Matthew paused at the threshold when he saw Kathleen standing on the steps as if waiting for them. She turned around to face them with a stern look.

“I hate that I’m not going with you,” she said.

Matthew swallowed hard. He couldn’t help but feel relieved that she would be out of the fray. If for some reason Matthew didn’t come home, then his children would still have one parent to raise them.

He stepped close to Kathleen and took her hand in his. “I know, but it will be better that you, Allison, and my mom stay at the hotel. You’ll be needed here if any of us turn up with injuries, or something happens and Patton needs a safe place to run to. We’ll be okay, I promise.”

“Not just okay,” Kathleen said, a line forming between her brows. “You’ll all come back in tip-top condition. All of you. And you’ll have our son with you.”

“He’ll be safe,” Jade said softly. “I promise.”

Kathleen studied Jade for a moment before swiftly embracing the young woman. Jade looked over Kathleen’s shoulder at Matthew with wide eyes before Kathleen released her and turned to give Wyatt a similar hug. “I don’t know you very well, but believe me, I will have to thank you a hundred times over for what you’re doing for me and my family,” she said.

“We’ll get your son back,” Wyatt said. “If you see anyone that you don’t know coming up to the hotel, book it to the gun club. My people know you might be coming their way and will be ready to lend a hand if things go south. We don’t want Colin’s men coming up the mountain and aggravating anyone else. It seems he’s done enough damage already.”

“Thank you,” Kathleen said. “You’re a good man with a good heart. Please, all of you be safe.”

Wyatt tipped his head as if her praise made him shy. He turned and walked down the porch. Jade followed.

Kathleen embraced David without a word, but she held onto him tightly. When she pulled away, David gave her a kiss on the cheek and then descended the porch steps to follow Wyatt and Jade, giving Matthew a moment of privacy with his wife.

At long last, Kathleen turned to Matthew. She felt fragile in his arms and he held onto her tightly, hoping this wouldn’t be the last time they saw each other. “For luck,” she whispered and kissed him hard. Matthew couldn’t help but feel his heart soar. Despite everything they had gone through, he felt bonded with Kathleen, as if they had connected on a completely new level. When he broke the kiss, he said, “I love you.”

Kathleen smiled and kissed him a second time on the cheek. “And I you. Be safe.”

Matthew squeezed her and then left her to join the others waiting for him. He turned around one last time before they rounded the corner heading down the mountain. Kathleen still stood on the porch, showing as only a sliver of darkness against the side of the building. Her arm lifted high in the air to wave goodbye, and Matthew knew she would have tears in her eyes as she watched them depart. A new kind of resolve strengthened within him. He would come back to make his family whole or die trying.

As he walked down the mountain and the hotel passed from sight, Matthew studied the sun, watching it lower into midafternoon with a sense of trepidation. Even though he knew they were heading straight into a gun fight—and Matthew wasn’t any kind of fighter—he still didn’t know why he felt so steady. Maybe it was because he was learning to trust again. He was glad to have David, Jade, and Wyatt all on one side for once without having to worry about fighting or clashing ideas between them. He felt as though they were a united front, on the same side. The overwhelming fear about people—and what they could do to him and his loved ones—took a back seat. Even though they had been through some tough times, he realized he could finally trust these people. That realization lifted a weight from his shoulders.

As he breathed in the fresh air, he become acutely aware of his surroundings. The light cut through the tree boughs in shafts of yellow and white. Green pine needles from the trees rustled in the wind and the small yellow leaves of the aspens fluttered wildly. Some broke off and floated down to the dappled road. He hated to think that this beautiful early summer day might end in bloodshed.

Matthew realized that there was a very good chance he might kill someone today. That he himself might die this very day. He expected the notion to send fear and worry roiling inside of him, but instead, that fear bashed itself against that strong pillar of calm and resolve. Yes, he might have to do violent things, but it would be to protect his son. Patton had been taken by this thug, Colin, and now it was up to Matthew to save him. Once, he might have called the police and felt helpless as the situation spiraled out of his control, but now, he was the one who had to take charge. He had to defend his people and family from those who meant them harm.

What Kathleen had gone through strayed into the forefront of his mind. If he did have to kill someone in self-defense, would he experience the same kind of guilt that she had? He knew she’d been torn up about it, that it had shaken the foundation of who she was. Even though they had talked about the event and what had transpired, he knew Kathleen still saw herself as a monster in some ways. A person who had taken the life of another, no matter how terrible that person might have been. Matthew considered what it would be like if he came back to Kathleen in such a state. Would she understand what he was going through, and thus be able to help him? Or would it sever what they had re-built together?

He brushed such thoughts away and tried to focus on the task at hand.

They continued down the mountain in a companionable silence and at a rapid pace. Usually, Matthew would try to find something to talk about or attempt to find common ground, but he realized that in this situation, he didn’t have to. Instead, he focused on keeping his head clear and rejoiced in the exercise that also seemed to help clear his mind and intentions. He trusted Wyatt and Jade to help him do what needed to be done. He hoped his father’s strength would hold out. For the first time in a long time, he felt as though he was part of something bigger than himself. Maybe, when this was all over, they could all help each other survive the nightmare world they had ended up in.

Soon the mountain road started to level out and the trees parted to show the main road through Galena. The edge of the welcome sign came into sight, not far from the turn in the road they were walking on. The edge of the gas station appeared as well—one of those fuel pumps with pleasant open signs and tidy paint. Wyatt started to slow and held out a hand, indicating that the rest of them should come to a stop. Wyatt motioned them to come together in a circle, and when they were close enough, he said in a hushed tone, “We don’t want to alert Colin that we are coming. I know we want to run in, guns a-blazing, but there’s a good chance that will just end with people hurt or dead. If everyone is agreed, let’s stick with our plan and scout the gas station first before taking Colin and his men out.”

“I don’t want to put Patton in any more danger,” Matthew said.

“Me either,” David said, his voice sounding slightly breathless. Matthew ignored it. He couldn’t let his father’s health distract him now.

Jade nodded. “If we take them by surprise, Colin won’t have any time to shoot. We’ll be able to keep the upper hand and get Patton and Max back.”

“All right,” Wyatt said. “The plan still holds. Now, there’s a service road that leads to the gas station by the Galena welcome sign. We’ll slip into the trees and silently make our way over to it. Silently is the operative word here. We don’t want to alert anyone to our presence, so be careful, walk slow, and for god’s sake don’t do anything stupid.”

Matthew and Jade exchanged glances and for a moment he saw a swift smile cross Jade’s face before she seemed to douse it like a lit candle. He knew it would take more than a few apologies to win her over, but if she left knowing he felt regret, maybe it would ease any long-term hate between them.

“Now, once we’re on the service road,” Wyatt continued, “we will be at a good vantage point to snipe Colin and his men, while keeping ourselves out of danger. Since we don’t have the exact equipment for that kind of an attack, we’ll close in on the gas station and see what we can see. Keep an eye out for Patton. If we can get in, grab him and get out without anyone the wiser, even better. All right, team. Any questions?”

Matthew, David, and Jade shook their heads. Wyatt nodded and made a hand signal that Matthew didn’t understand, but figured it must have come from Wyatt’s background in the military. He shook his head, starting to feel a little out of his depth. He mentally gave himself a shake. He didn’t need to understand everything. All he needed to do was follow orders, and get to the service road as quietly as possible. Stay on mission.

The trees thickened into a beautifully trimmed grove and Wyatt took the lead, taking them off the beaten path and into the undergrowth. Matthew tried to keep the crunch of leaves and pine needles under his feet to a minimum. Taking slow, measured steps, he followed the tense shape of Wyatt through the shadows as they went off road and deeper into the forest. Soon, a gravel service road appeared, but Wyatt still stuck to the side of it. Matthew realized that the crunch of leaves didn’t stand out as much as the crunching of gravel and followed Wyatt’s example. David took up the rear as they continued to walk, and Matthew could feel Jade close behind him.

Matthew’s heart began to pound in his ears when he saw the square concrete edges of the gas station come into view. The back of the building looked somewhat run down compared to what he’d glimpsed of the front. Candy wrappers and other debris had collected in the corners, trapped in place by the wind. A group of abandoned cars stood in the parking lot, and Matthew knew that the place must have been popular with those coming in and out of town. Gravel and sand covered the concrete slab where a blue dumpster sat, filled to the brim with trash. Flies buzzed around the opened top. Pallets were propped up against the wall, disposed of and forgotten. Matthew made a mental note to come back here in the future and collect the wood. They could break the pallets apart and use them for building, repairing, or even burning for heat. In fact, he was sure there could be tons of valuable stuff in places around town he wouldn’t have thought of before.

He didn’t see any sign of Colin or his men.

Wyatt paused and crouched in the grass, scanning the area. After a moment of silence, he motioned them to follow him closer to the building. As they continued to creep around the gas station, always staying low to the ground, they heard the soft sounds of people bickering. Wyatt came to a stop and motioned them to follow his lead. He crouched even lower, keeping the trees and brush as camouflage. Slowly, they crept further around the gas station until the sides came more clearly into view.

Gas pumps with black handles were lined up along the concrete. Some had cars parked in front of them with their gas tanks popped and open. Others still had gasoline hoses threaded into the car, as if once the cars had stopped working, the drivers had simply abandoned the vehicles where they stood. Matthew didn’t see any sign of anyone else, but as he took a couple of steps closer, he saw a group of four men standing around one of the pumps.

Matthew tried to keep his breath from speeding up. He drew in a couple of slow and steady breaths, reminding himself to keep his head and stay calm. The thought of opening fire in a gas station where the gasoline was clearly ready to catch fire made him jumpy. He wasn’t sure how easy it was to blow up a gas tank, but he had seen enough movies that it made him nervous. He laughed at himself. He should know better by now. Media and reality were rarely the same.

One of the men made a jerking motion as if yanking something close to him. Matthew squinted and saw the big man pull Patton into his line of sight. Patton’s face was tear-stained and flushed red with frustration. The big man put a hand on Patton’s shoulder as if to keep him in place. Matthew eyed his son up and down, grateful that Patton looked healthy and not hurt. He would have to get closer to make sure, but the sight of his son alive sent a wave of relief flowing through him. Patton might be scared, but at least he was still in one piece. Matthew desperately wanted to march into the gas station, yank his son away from the men, and run back to the hotel, but he knew such actions could be deadly for everyone involved.

Wyatt motioned them forward a little bit further. Each step Matthew made sounded incredibly loud in his ears. He reminded himself to take cautious steps and remain attentive to his surroundings. He studied the cartel goons’ faces, searching for any indication that they detected Matthew’s presence.

Jade nudged Matthew from behind, and pointed in the direction of a series of five cars parked in such a way that it looked like they could effectively be used as cover. Matthew nodded in understanding. If they hid behind the stalled cars, they would be more nearly in range to pick off the men one by one if needed.

Wyatt turned to look at him one more time, as if verifying that Matthew was battle-ready. Matthew nodded once, and Wyatt, satisfied, directed them closer to the cars. At the gas station, Colin’s men continued to laugh. One of them seemed to be smoking a cigarette. Matthew kept a close eye on his son to ensure that the men didn’t do anything to him. Behind him, he heard David’s breathing turn from a pant to a wheeze. Matthew stifled his concern.

Finally, the brush disappeared, leaving only an open expanse of concrete between them and the line of cars they wanted to use as cover. Wyatt leapt out first, staying as low to the ground as possible, and then sidled up next to the passenger door of one of the cars. Matthew took in a deep breath and sprinted for the cars next. The loud sound of gravel crunching underfoot convinced him that Colin’s men would look up and spot him, but somehow, he managed to slide up next to Wyatt undetected. Jade followed a moment later.

Matthew looked behind him to see David lumbering toward them, his hand clutching his chest. Alarms rang in Matthew’s mind. He remembered his father looking like this when they were walking to Galena. For a moment, his panic overtook him. If David fell or began to cough, Colin’s men would immediately detect them, and their element of surprise would disappear, making this mission a whole lot harder than originally planned.

Please, Dad. Matthew thought. Please make it to the cars.

David seemed to grit his teeth and run as fast as he could, finally landing with a whump next to Matthew. His breathing came out low and harsh. Matthew gripped David’s shoulder as though trying to send him strength through the touch. After a moment of heavy breathing, David looked up and squeezed Matthew’s shoulder back. The tension left him, but Matthew still felt on his guard.

Wyatt laid a comforting hand on David’s shoulder, and they all waited until David’s breathing was back under control. Then Wyatt made another motion, telling them to get into position. It was now or never.

It was time.

29

Matthew’s shoulder pressed hard into the side of the car as he settled into a place where he could keep an eye on Patton and still observe the rest of the cartel members. There seemed to be five in total, with two standing close to Patton and the other three milling out and around the street. Samuel West’s shotgun was clutched in Matthew’s hand, but he knew he couldn’t fire it at his enemies from this range without Patton getting hit. He put the trusted shotgun down and took the rifle he had borrowed from Wyatt instead.

The big man yanked on Patton’s shoulder, as if scolding the boy. Patton scowled at the big man, and Matthew once more stifled the urge to run for his son, grab him, and drag him back to safety. Desperately, he wished this were all over, but he knew he couldn’t break from the plan. If they didn’t get the timing right, or if they ruined the element of surprise, it would all be over and end horribly. The cartel might try to hold Patton at gunpoint, or threaten him in some other way, and Matthew knew he would give in to their demands. Be strong. He bit his lip. Remain calm.

“Think he’s gonna show?” the big man asked. “Kid, seriously. Stop squirming for ten seconds, all right?”

“That punk?” the one smoking the cigarette said. “Unlikely. Max is nothing but a coward. He’d save his own skin over anyone else.”

“Don’t talk about my uncle like that,” Patton said. “I hope he doesn’t come!”

“Aw, look at the kid. All protective. That’s cute. Don’t worry. Your uncle will be getting what he deserves. You’ve got more guts than he does anyway.” The big man laughed.

Patton’s lips spread in a snarl, and he shoved the big man’s hand off of his shoulder. “Get off of me,” he said.

“Sun’s getting low,” the big man said, ignoring Patton. “Can’t wait to get out of this podunk town.”

“You and me both,” the one with the cigarette said.

The conversation died, and Matthew glanced at Wyatt who narrowed his eyes at him. Matthew understood without it having to be said out loud. If Max hadn’t shown up yet, they were lucky. The only bad part was that they had no idea where Max was, or if he had collapsed on his way to the gas station. If Max never showed, well, their plan would have to drastically change.

“Isn’t that a surprise,” the big man said, perking up and peering off into the distance. “The singing bird finally showed. You owe me twenty bucks, man. Hey, Colin! You might want to come out here and see this.”

“Uncle Max!” Patton cried out. “Get out of here!”

The big man clapped a hand over Patton’s mouth, and the boy let out a scream of frustration.

Matthew sat up further, trying to see what they saw. When Max rounded the corner of the building and came into sight, he looked ill. His hands were up in the air to show he didn’t have a weapon, but there was a sickly sheen of sweat on his cheeks. His eyes appeared sunken, and the gash on his forehead had begun bleeding again. He staggered closer to the group of men. “Let my nephew go,” Max said. “I’m here, aren’t I? Let him go.”

The door to the gas station banged open, and a lithe man sauntered out. He had an unwrapped candy bar in one hand, and he grinned at Max. Matthew could only assume this was Colin from the tattoos around his shaved head. “We caught ourselves a live one, boys! Nice to see your pretty face, Max,” Colin said as he munched on the candy bar. Chocolate was smeared on his hands. He threw the wrapper onto the ground. “You look much better than when we left you. Far too healed up for my liking. Who took the time to bandage you up, huh? Was it that nice sister of yours? Come closer, traitor. Let’s take you down a peg.”

Matthew swallowed hard. If Colin thought Max looked healed, he could only imagine what Max had looked like before he’d arrived at the hotel. Plus, how did Colin know about Kathleen? Had Max talked about her while he was in prison? Matthew let out a shaky breath and tried to steady his trembling hands. He glanced at Jade, who had her eyes pinned to the scene. Wyatt made no movement. Matthew knew what he had to do. Wait.

It was the hardest thing he had ever done.

“You can beat me to a bloody pulp if you like, Colin,” Max shouted, “but if you laid one hand on the kid, I’m going to take it personally. You made a deal, and if you went back on it, you’ll have to pay.”

“You’d know all about backstabbing, wouldn’t you?” Colin said and approached Patton. He crouched down until he was face-to-face with the boy. “This kid here has one tiny nick on his neck. I can make it wider if you don’t behave, traitor.”

Rage filled Max’s face. He took a couple of steps closer. “Don’t you dare.”

“You know what we’re going to do to you, Max?” Colin asked, still studying Patton’s face. The group of men snickered, as if they already knew and couldn’t wait for Colin to give the big reveal. “We’ve got an exciting surprise for you. I think we’ll take you back alive to the cartel’s compound. They like to make examples of people, and you’ll be the perfect example of what not to do. A live traitor that we can all have some fun with.”

“We have to take him all the way back?” the big man asked suddenly, sounding shocked. “Alive?”

Colin broke eye contact with Patton, stood, and looked at the big man. “And why wouldn’t we?” he asked.

“He’s another mouth to feed,” the big man grumbled. “Just kill him and take a picture as proof. I don’t want to haul him all the way back just to prove a point.”

The man with the cigarette laughed. “What are you gonna take a picture with, idiot? Got a camera anywhere? Place to develop photos? A phone? What a dumb suggestion.”

The big man shifted as if realizing he’d made himself an object of ridicule. “Hey, I’m only saying it seems like a waste of time and resources to bring back a traitor that the big boss is gonna string up anyway.”

“Maybe you can paint a picture of him then,” the man with the cigarette continued, taking a drag and blowing a plume of gray smoke into the air. “Van Gogh, are you? I’ll get you some watercolors.”

“Enough,” Colin broke in. The playfulness on his face had disappeared, leaving only a sharp anger that sent chills up Matthew’s spine. Whoever this Colin was, he was a terrifying specimen of a human being. One that shouldn’t be messed with. Like a starved dog, kicked to the point of becoming feral. “Max is my task. I’m calling the shots here. I don’t want a picture of this singing bird. I don’t want a portrait or even a piece of him cut off as evidence. I want to drag him alive back to the big bosses to prove what we accomplished. I want my reward, and the only way I’m going to get it is if we bring him back still breathing. Mangled, sure. But breathing.”

The big man let out a groan. “The big boss won’t care, believe me.”

“I have to prove myself to them,” Colin said, almost to himself as he took a step away from the group of men and closer to Max. “The cartel takes care of their own, but only if they work to earn it. I haven’t chased this little bird across the state just to be accused of not earning my reward.”

On the sidewalk, Max had gone very still. He closed his eyes for a moment, as though collecting his courage, and then strode closer to Colin until he was within the circle of the men. “I’ll willingly go with you, no questions asked, if you let Patton go. I won’t put up a fight.”

“Oh, but we want you to fight,” Colin said. “Don’t take all the good parts out of it. I don’t want you to give up. I want your nephew to see just how weak you are.” His hand curled into a fist and he drove it into Max’s stomach.

Max gasped and buckled over, clutching at his middle. Patton let out a cry and surged toward Max, but the big guy held him back. “Let me go!” Patton yelled, pounding at the man’s hands that were wrapped around his shoulders. “Let me go!”

Matthew looked at Wyatt, hoping it was time. Colin had a maniacal grin on his face as he began to circle Max, seeming to debate where he wanted to hit Max next. Wyatt met Matthew’s eyes and gave the nod. It’s time. As one, they set their guns along vantage points in their car-shield. Please don’t hit Patton, Matthew prayed, before he heard Wyatt give a soft countdown. On three, they opened fire on the group.

The trigger responded to Matthew’s light touch and the gun jolted back into his shoulder like being punched in the arm. It was a much different experience than with the shotgun. It felt as though this gun was alive, somehow.

Matthew could barely identify anyone as the group of men dove for cover when the bullets rained down on them. These men were probably used to being fired at, he thought. They probably didn’t even blink when being shot at. He caught sight of Max, doubled over in pain, rushing for Patton. Max grabbed Patton, covering him with his body as they slammed into the ground, scrambling for cover.

It was difficult for Matthew to open fire on an area where his son was so exposed, but Wyatt had promised him that it was the best solution. After Matthew had done so many wrong things thinking he was in the right, he listened to Wyatt’s suggestions, no matter how much it pained him. He shot off another round. He had to trust that Wyatt knew best.

The cartel men reached for their own weapons and sought shelter behind the gas pumps and the concrete pillars holding up the pump’s infrastructure. A sharp ping ping reached Matthew’s ears, paired with a sudden sunburst of light exploding in front of his vision. He realized in a daze that the men were shooting back at them, and their bullets were hitting and ricocheting off of the car-shield. Matthew ducked, as he heard a volley of bullets slam into the cars. His heart pounded in his chest like a galloping horse. Jade checked him over before levering herself back up to shoot back at the cartel.

“Kill them!” Colin cried, his loud and panicked voice cutting through the gunfire. Matthew saw the man’s slender form reach into his waistband and pull out a handgun. Matthew tried to put him in his firing sight, but Colin wasn’t one to hold still, and he seemed to dance around the area. The gun finally pulled out, Matthew expected Colin to start firing in their direction. Horror filled him when he saw Colin turn the gun on Max. Max curled up tighter over Patton, shielding his nephew with his body.

“Don’t think so,” Wyatt whispered next to Matthew. A sharp shot rang out as Wyatt’s shoulder absorbed the blast. Matthew barely saw the shot fly true and slam into Colin’s shoulder. The man let out a wild cry and spun, his gun blasting wildly in every direction, as though the whole world was his enemy. Wyatt ducked behind the car shield. Matthew followed suit, but he heard a zing of a bullet flying too close combined with the wet thump of it penetrating something meaty. Next to him Jade cried out in agony. She flew backwards, clutching her shoulder. Blood bloomed under her hand, soaking through her jacket in seconds. Matthew grabbed her and dragged her closer to the car-shield, making sure she was obscured from sight and any other stray bullets. His hand slammed over the wound, putting immense pressure on it. Jade whimpered and thrashed as if trying to dislodge him, but Matthew held her steady.

Another hand fell over his and he looked up to see David’s grim expression. “I’ll help her,” David whispered. Matthew nodded and slipped his hand away, shocked at the bright blood coating his palm. Swallowing hard and trying to hold himself steady, he took his position again and put his gun to his shoulder. Please don’t die, he thought at Jade as he wiped her blood off on his jeans. Please don’t die. I owe you so much for everything you’ve done for me. Please don’t die.

Colin’s mad shooting continued, and Matthew could make out bullet holes in the concrete surrounding them. A new kind of fury built within him, one that raged against the insensitivity and cruelty of humanity. Colin wanted nothing more than to make people hurt and suffer. He didn’t deserve whatever reward he thought he had coming to him. The man deserved nothing but to be put down for putting Patton’s life in danger, beating up Max, and shooting Jade.

Matthew lined up the sight so that Colin wavered in and out of his vision. He waited, remembering Jade’s instructions to wait for the perfect opportunity. He took in a deep breath. His finger curled around the trigger. Time slowed as Colin disappeared from view and then emerged again, the red splotch on his arm coating his shirt. His arm hung uselessly at his side. He picked up his gun and aimed it again at Max.

Matthew didn’t know how many bullets Colin had left, but he wasn’t going to wait to find out. When Colin swayed into his line of sight, Matthew pulled the trigger slowly, and the sharp bang that erupted felt like the final blow of a long-fought battle. Colin staggered suddenly and jerked to the side. His hands covered his stomach, and when he pulled them back, they were stained red with blood. Colin gave a gurgle, his knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground.

The frequency of gunshots lessened. In his bubble of slowed time, Matthew counted the bodies on the ground. The burning cigarette had been abandoned and lay in a smoldering pile next to its fallen owner. The big man’s legs could be seen sticking out of the shadows, unmoving. Another man lay in a motionless sprawl face down on the concrete. The other two men clicked empty guns and then bolted down the road. Matthew stopped shooting and Wyatt followed suit. They sat there for a minute, listening, until finally they could hear nothing but silence. Gunshots still rang in Matthew’s imagination, and for a moment, he considered leaping to his feet and chasing the cartel runaways, but he abandoned the idea. Maybe they’d tell their boss to stay away from Galena. It was protected by some serious folk.

His breath caught in his throat when he made out the slumped form of Max, still hunched over Patton. For an agonizing moment, he didn’t know if they were going to move. If they’d been wounded. Whether they were alive or dead. But then, finally, Max uncurled away from his nephew, and Matthew saw Patton’s tear-stained face pop into view. “Oh thank god,” he whispered, grateful that his son was unharmed.

They had done it. Somehow, against all odds, he had managed to get his son back.

30

Matthew pointed his gun toward the ground and flicked the safety on. He tried to leap to his feet but felt a hand grab his shoulder.

“Matthew, we need to wait,” Wyatt hissed, yanking him back behind the shield of cars. “Just for a moment. There could be other shooters out there. We need to wait.”

Matthew pushed off Wyatt’s hand. “If someone was waiting to shoot at us, they would’ve attacked by now. They might still attack my son. I can’t wait.” He scrambled to his feet, and brushed off Wyatt when the Marine tried to pull him back down once more.

“Matt, wait, wait—”

Even with Wyatt’s warning still ringing in his ears, Matthew crept around the shield of cars and rushed forward toward Patton. His son’s tear-stained face was the light at the end of this particular tunnel, and Matthew knew he had to reach him and see for himself that Patton was alive and well. He needed to count the scratches and bruises. He needed to see what had been done to Patton with his own two eyes.

Ahead of him, Patton scrambled to his own feet, launching out of the protective circle of Max’s arms and running full speed toward Matthew. “Dad,” Patton cried out and Matthew’s heart tightened painfully at the distress in his youngest child’s voice. Matthew skidded to his knees as Patton barreled into him. Patton’s shaking, wiry arms wrapped around Matthew’s neck like steel bands and Matthew held him as tight as he possibly could. Relief engulfed him. Tears pressed against Matthew’s eyes as he whispered into Patton’s hair, “I’m so sorry, Patton, I’m so sorry, but you’re safe, I’ve got you. I’ve got you and I’ll never let you go.”

Patton shuddered with sobs.

“I’m so sorry,” Matthew said again through his own tears. “I won’t let anything hurt you ever again. You’re safe. I promise, I’ll always keep you safe. I should’ve kept you safe. I’ll never let anything like that happen to you again.”

The words poured out of him like a river bursting from a dam, and even if he didn’t believe that he could keep Patton safe—that of course this world and people in it would try and hurt Patton again—he would do everything in his power to stop it. He would move mountains, ford streams, move heaven and earth to make sure Patton was happy and well.

Patton pulled back just enough for Matthew to see his dark eyes. The boy’s brown hair, mussed and grown out, stuck to his forehead. For a moment, Matthew hysterically wondered if he would have to learn how to cut hair as well as mend fences and shoot rifles. Maybe Patton would like having long hair. He didn’t care. It didn’t matter, as long as Patton was safe.

He reached out and laid a shaky finger against the red scabbed cut marring Patton’s neck. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered and wondered if he could ever say it enough.

“Dad,” Patton cut in. “It’s okay. You didn’t know. How could you? I should’ve fought back. It’s all my fault.”

“Nothing is your fault,” Matthew said. He gripped Patton’s shoulder and gave him a small shake. “You did nothing wrong.”

“I should’ve told you where I was going,” Patton said as his chin began to crimp and wobble. “I should’ve at least tried to fight back against Colin. I should’ve tried harder to escape.”

Matthew exhaled a laugh. “It’s hard to fight back with a knife to your neck. You saved your grandmother from these awful people. You did everything right. It’s not always about using your fists. You have to use your head, too. I’m so proud of you for doing that.”

“Really?” Patton asked, and for a moment he looked incredibly fragile, as if he wanted to believe Matthew but couldn’t quite accept that.

“I swear to you,” Matthew said. “I’m so proud of you.”

This time, when Patton embraced Matthew, it didn’t have the same desperation, but Matthew felt as though Patton had changed in some way. Despite everything, Patton was quickly growing up and Matthew was starting to glimpse the man he might become. Matthew held Patton close and let his breathing return to normal. Another wave of relief washed over him, and he looked over Patton’s shoulder to see Max stagger up from his hands and knees to his feet. Max leaned heavily against one of the pillars that had been chewed up by gunfire, and Matthew wondered if he would be able to say the same for his brother-in-law. Even though Max had done the brave thing—the honorable thing—by being willing to give his life up for Patton’s, Matthew couldn’t quite forget that none of this would have happened in the first place if Max had stayed away from them and the hotel. Somewhere deep inside of him he wanted to punch Max square in the jaw and release some of that churning anger. Maybe it would make things better, or at least easier to get over. He would have plenty of time to deal with that later. All that mattered now was that the threat had been eliminated and everyone was safe. For the most part.

Jade. Matthew broke his embrace with Patton and turned back to look at the car shield. David and Wyatt had propped Jade up between them, with her arms over their shoulders, and walked around the line of bullet-marked cars. Blood stained her shoulder in a wide patch of red. Her face looked wan, and she swayed but managed to keep her feet steady on the ground. “Is everyone okay?” she called out to Matthew.

“You tell me,” Matthew said back.

Her mouth bared in a grin. “Never been better,” she said. “Although I think my jacket might be ruined.”

“We’ll do everything we can to save it,” Matthew said.

Wyatt snorted and shook his head. “At least the jacket doesn’t need any first aid. We need to head back to bandage her up without delay. You sure everyone’s okay?”

“I’m fine,” Patton said, “but I think Uncle Max might need some help.”

Wyatt grunted in agreement, and both he and David started to walk slowly toward them. Matthew stood up and saw that Patton was right. Max looked like he was in a bad way, his skin clammy with a pale sick tinge to it and his re-opened head wound bleeding down his forehead. He had moved from his spot against the gas station pillar and now stood over Colin. Matthew approached them cautiously, shuffling Patton behind him. “Go help Jade,” he said to Patton. His son didn’t need to see what a gunshot to the gut looked like. Patton looked at him for a moment as if considering defying the order, but then turned and went to help Jade, taking David’s place in supporting her.

Max glanced quickly at Matthew, but then focused back on Colin. Matthew stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Max and followed his line of sight. Colin had collapsed on the ground, his hands clutching at his stomach, and a low groaning gurgle came from him. He sneered at them and tried to sit up, but it seemed as though his body wouldn’t obey. Even though this man had kidnapped Patton, Matthew felt an unwanted stab of compassion go through him. To him, death would never be a laughing matter.

“We’re gonna get you, Max,” Colin said, his voice low and venomous. “The cartel won’t stop. Especially now. Especially after everything you’ve done. You’ve spilled blood.”

“Is that what you want your last words to be?” Max asked. “More threats?”

“It doesn’t matter if I die, you know,” Colin gasped. “The others got away. They’ll tell everyone what you did to me. Not only did you betray them, now you’ve killed one…one of their best and brightest. One of their most…most loyal.” His words started to become breathy. “You’ll…you’ll regret the day you crossed them.”

“No one is coming, Colin,” Max said. “The cartel don’t care about you. They don’t care about me. You’re the one who had it in for me on their behalf.”

“You’re wrong,” Colin insisted. Blood coated his teeth. “There’s a huge compound just for loyal cartel members. When they come for you, they’ll take you there and you’ll see. You’ll be sorry for doubting them and betraying them like this. You’ve made the biggest mistake of your life.”

Max shook his head again, and Matthew decided to hold his tongue. Whatever argument or betrayal existed between them needed to stay between them and not infect anyone else. He hoped Max was right and that no one else would be coming for him. It was a matter they would need to seriously talk about later.

“There is no place waiting for you, no one coming for me,” Max said and even Matthew could hear the pity in his tone. “You put too much trust in an organization that only used you for what you could do for them. It’s exactly what they did to me. Don’t you see? They promised me the moon and the stars, but at the first sign that something was wrong, they turned away from me. I meant nothing to them. I was just a means to an end. Just like you. Can’t you see that they’re using you?”

Colin spat at them even as his face transformed into a snarl of hatred. “You’re wrong. They’ll defend me. They’ll avenge me! The cartel takes care of their own. You’ll see. When they come for you, you’ll realize just what you’ve done.” Colin coughed as a shudder went through him. He closed his eyes in pain and whispered something under his breath that Matthew couldn’t make out.

Matthew wondered if Max would try to convince the dying man to see the truth, but Max only went unnaturally still and quiet as Colin’s breathing became ragged and his eyes glazed over. Colin collapsed fully against the concrete as his breathing stilled and he stopped moving.

Matthew glanced at Max, who was studying the fallen man. “Should I be relieved?” he whispered to Matthew. “I should feel sad, shouldn’t I? Life is sacred and all that. Why do I feel this way?”

“Don’t think about it too hard,” Matthew said. “He was going to kill you. He kidnapped Patton. I don’t think it’s unnatural to feel somewhat relieved that the threat to your life has come to an end.”

Max looked up at Matthew with tears in his eyes. “What do we do now? Are we supposed to bury him? I don’t know what to do.”

“Not unless we want to bury the rest of them, too,” he said, and indicated the other fallen cartel members around the gas station. “We don’t have the resources or time to do such a thing. We can move them into the woods, if you’d like.”

“I don’t know,” Max said, sounding lost. “I don’t know what to do. I was fully prepared to die, Matt. Now that I have another chance, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.”

“Take it easy, then,” Matthew said, and clapped Max on the back. “One step at a time. Step one is to get Jade back to the hotel. She was shot helping us get Patton back.”

Max paled even more. “Oh my god,” he whispered.

Matthew turned Max away from Colin’s body so that they faced Jade, David, and Wyatt. Even though they would be having a serious discussion about his responsibilities and Matthew’s expectations at a later point, Matthew did have to admit that Max had planned to sacrifice his life for Patton’s safety. Even though Max had brought all of this down on their heads, he was at least trying to do the right thing. There was merit in that. “Max, meet your knights in shining armor,” Matthew said. “These are the people who just saved your bacon.”

“Thank you,” Max said, turning to them and sounding awed, as though he never expected anyone to try to come to his rescue.

“You’re welcome,” Jade said. “Now can we please get me back to the hotel to patch up this wound? I’m starting to feel a little woozy. Matt, I might just have to take you up on your offer to stay a little longer. Looks like I’ll be out of commission for a bit.”

“You’re in luck,” Matthew said. “We just had a vacancy. The best room, just for you.”

31

Matthew lent a hand to help Jade brace herself against the metal door of the freezer just outside the gas station’s front door. On the freezer’s side, white and light blue lettering advertised that they sold bags of ice for two bucks. Shaking his head, he knew that if he opened up that freezer he’d find nothing but plastic bags floating in a sea of water. Max rested against the freezer beside Jade. The two of them looked the worse for wear, and Matthew knew it was important to head back to the hotel, but he had to make sure they didn’t overexert themselves in the process. At least Jade’s wound wasn’t mortal.

Matthew walked back over to Wyatt, who was crouched next to Colin and inspecting his pockets. As Matthew got closer, Wyatt held his hand out and dropped a handful of unused bullets into Matthew’s palm. Matthew paused before voicing the concern growing inside of him.

“Can we do this? I mean, scavenge from these people like this?” Matthew asked as he inspected the bullets. Some were stained with blood but others looked to be in tip-top condition. He felt a little uneasy about taking things off of the dead cartel members, but at the same time, he didn’t want to pass up usable items that would help make their lives easier in the future.

Wyatt shrugged and handed Matthew the handgun Colin had carried. “In my opinion, I wouldn’t usually do such a thing, but in times like these, resources are and will be difficult to come by. We should start thinking of our items as things that should be passed down to others instead of kept with us when it’s our time.” He paused and surveyed the rest of the gas station. “Plus, I don’t think I could leave all this ammo and weaponry for someone else to take. Puts me on edge. Don’t you feel the same?”

Matthew laughed. “I do, unfortunately. At least our priorities are aligned.”

Wyatt grinned as he stood. “Glad to hear it, Riley. I heard a couple of good guns going off while we were fighting. You take one side of the gas station and I’ll take the other and we can divvy up what we find. How’s that sound?”

Matthew nodded and again felt that sensation of partnership fill him. It was the same feeling he’d experienced while they were walking to the gas station. As if he was finally in the presence of people he could learn to trust and have that invaluable respect returned. Maybe they could create something special. Maybe they wouldn’t have to get through the apocalypse alone.

Walking over to other fallen cartel members, Matthew checked all their pockets and the surrounding area, keeping his eyes averted from the worst of the injuries. He felt remorse for what he had done, but at the same time, it felt as though it was a necessary evil. He hadn’t wanted to hurt or kill these people, but the life of his son was far too important to have those kinds of thoughts get in the way. “I wish we could have worked something out,” he said out loud as he pocketed a fresh supply of ammunition and a pocket knife along with a new handgun. He stripped holsters off the bodies and took anything that might be helpful. Standing up, he surveyed the area and imagined how things could easily have gone sideways and not in their favor.

The gas station looked horrible. The onslaught of bullets had left the concrete pillars with a gnawed appearance. Holes pockmarked the ground. The plastic and glass displays had been shattered, leaving the pieces glittering on the ground and crunching underfoot. The shadows cast by the setting sun gave it an ominous ambiance. Behind him, the shield of cars that had protected their lives looked like dented and blasted hunks of metal. The glass windshields looked as though they’d gone through an asteroid field, leaving white crater impacts across them. Side mirrors dangled off the doors, barely held on by wires. The gas station itself had suffered immense damage as well, its bulletproof front windows dented and marred. The front door had been busted in at some point and now sat off-kilter in the frame. Matthew saw Patton moving inside the gas station, looking for any kind of supplies they could bring back to the hotel with them as well as items that could help treat Jade.

Matthew hauled his newfound supplies over to Wyatt, who had spread out his finds on the dented hood of a car that had been caught in the middle of their gunfire. The mirrors and lights had been shattered, but the bumps on the hood allowed Wyatt to create two separate piles that wouldn’t roll off. Matthew dumped his stuff down.

Wyatt nodded in appreciation. “Lots of good stuff here,” he said as he began to inspect everything.

Matthew grunted in response and watched the Marine work, hoping to learn something. Wyatt eyed the bullets, looking for any imperfections that might make them backfire in the guns. He double-checked the other weapons, opening them up smoothly the way Jade had once done when teaching the Riley family to shoot. When the guns were nothing more than a few pieces of metal and plastic and passed Wyatt’s concentrated examination, he slotted the pieces back together. The holsters got a cursory glance over—even marred or broken, they were still valuable and could easily be fixed. Then, he began to put items in the separate piles.

“Do you want to do it?” he asked Matthew quietly after a moment and Matthew realized he was splitting up the items.

A couple of days ago, Matthew would have insisted on doing it himself, convinced that Wyatt would try to palm off subpar goods or take the best of the best. Now, though, he realized he had to give a little and defer to Wyatt’s good judgement. Something David had been trying to get him to do for a while now. “I trust you,” Matthew said.

As the tension in Wyatt’s shoulders released, Matthew knew he had passed some kind of unforeseen test.

“My dad says you know a lot about the hotel,” Matthew said, turning to lean against the car. Over Wyatt’s shoulder, he could see Max and David trying to bind Jade’s wound with the minimal bandages and ripped T-shirts Patton must have found inside the gas station. Jade’s face was screwed up in obvious pain.

Wyatt nodded. “I used to play on those grounds when I was a boy. My own father was a tradesman and would sometimes do work on the hotel for the previous owners.”

“You know more about my own property than I do,” Matthew said. “My father said you know of a well somewhere.”

Wyatt smiled. “I do indeed, although I might have sold my ability to recall its location a bit hard. I was trying to strike a deal with him for fresh water and wanted to seem like I knew what I was talking about.”

Matthew’s heart sank. “So you don’t know where it’s located?”

“Not off the top of my head,” Wyatt admitted, matching bullets to the right gun and divvying them up between the piles. “I know I’ll remember if I’m on the property again, though. I’ll know it when I see it.”

“I’ve walked the property perimeter a hundred times this past week,” Matthew said. “I’ve never seen a well.”

“I know it’s there,” Wyatt said. “I know because I got scolded enough for playing around it. My old man was terrified I’d end up with my head on backwards at the bottom of it one day. I wasn’t the most careful of kids, always getting into trouble. Not the bad kind of trouble. Just the mischievous kind.”

Matthew laughed. “I think you and my son have a lot in common.”

Wyatt’s grin widened. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Kidnapping was never something that happened to me, though. Your boy handled it well. Just so you know, the well is most likely covered with vines and grass and debris by now. It had a wood or stone covering, so it might be well concealed, especially since it was a bit rough around the edges more than twenty years ago. You might have walked by it and thought it was a pile of rocks.”

“I’ll have to go back over the blueprints of the place,” Matthew mused. “It might be in the property files or listing and I don’t remember. Seems like an odd thing to overlook, though.”

Wyatt paused. “I’d be more than happy to help you look for it. If you wouldn’t mind my people using it from time to time.”

Matthew studied Wyatt and decided to take a chance on him. “After what you did for me today, I’m sure we can come to an understanding. If we find it, and it’s that run down, will the water even be good for drinking? I don’t know the first thing about repairing a well.”

Wyatt finished his sorting task and looked at Matthew. “I know some, but the Carpenter Country is full of tradesmen that have most likely dealt with something like that before. The water should be good because it comes from the aquifer below and if that was contaminated, well, then we have a whole different kind of problem on our hands. Still, I have no doubt that with our combined knowledge, we can get the thing up and running again. Would you be okay with us making use of it?”

“Of course,” Matthew said. “You help me find and repair it and you can definitely have access to it. Thus, we’ll all have sustainable water.”

Wyatt looked relieved. He held his hand out. “Deal.”

Matthew took his hand and they shook on it. Matthew couldn’t help but grin. He had a feeling this wouldn’t be the only project he and Wyatt worked on together. The hotel had made its first alliance, and Matthew hoped it would last them a long time. Hopefully, until civilization got back on its feet. If that ever happened. Either way, the future seemed a little less bleak than it had at the beginning of the day.

32

As Max walked back up the mountain road to the River Rock Hotel, he studied the orange and bright blue expanse of the sky. Summer months meant long days and short nights and Max felt as though he’d been transported to another universe…a universe where things had actually worked out for once. Where, if he blinked and pinched himself, he didn’t wake up in a hard bed in a tiny cell in the middle of Chicago.

Hours ago, he’d walked down this road trying to talk himself into accepting his own doom. He had prepared himself to face his impending death, or at least a long, drawn-out, unpleasant session with Colin. He had spent his walk focused on the pavement in front of him, trying to keep from hyperventilating and stopping his imagination from conjuring twisted ideas of what Colin would have in store for him when the cartel took him. Yet somehow, he had managed to make it out alive and even save his nephew in the process.

Now, he could study the sky in a wondering daze, thanking everyone and everything for his second chance at life. As he surveyed the tall greenery and the moss-covered boulders, he realized he didn’t want to do it anywhere else. Kathleen’s deal still lingered in his mind and he knew he would try to do right by her. No more secrets. He wanted them to trust each other. He wanted to be part of the Riley family, not just in the I’ll-see-you-every-other-Christmas way but in the I-need-to-ask-Uncle-Max-for-advice tight-knit kind of way. It made him smile, thinking of Patton dismissing Matthew’s cautious advice and coming to cool Uncle Max for the real answers.

They could even do fun things. He would spoil the kids rotten. Kathleen would have to give him a stern talking-to about boundaries, and Max would dismiss each of them while taking the kids out for ice cream in the middle of the night.

Well. Maybe not ice cream. Whatever the apocalypse equivalent would be. He’d figure it out. He had time.

Next to him, Jade made a soft huff of pain, and Max realized he’d sped up his stride in excitement. She was having a difficult time keeping up. He pulled back and let her lean on him, even if it made the bruises around his ribs ache anew. His hands were red with road rash from throwing himself to the ground to cover Patton. His head had started to get that swimming feeling again, but once they started walking, it seemed as if his mind had finally cleared. Ahead of them, Patton was talking a mile a minute and pointing things out to his grandfather, who listened attentively. Wyatt and Matthew were in deep conversation ahead of them, their hands mimicking each other as if they were having the same exact ideas. Max snorted, inclined his head toward those ahead, and said, “They left us poor wounded behind, didn’t they? Aren’t we the real heroes here?”

Jade didn’t smile at his joke. But her grimace lessened.

“I mean, you’re certainly the hero,” Max continued and wished he could figure out when to keep quiet. “My hero. If you hadn’t taken pity on me when you found me, I might not have even gotten here.”

“You mean gotten here at a cartel shoot-out?” Jade asked. “Might want to rethink that one.”

Whoa. Spicy. Max backpedaled. “What I mean is that I don’t know what convinced you to help some random guy lying face-down in the ground and comatose, but I’m glad you did nonetheless.”

Jade shrugged. “No biggie.”

“Seriously,” Max said, worried she might not be getting his brand of humor and deciding to go for genuine. “I’m thankful. You saved me big time and reunited me with my family. I couldn’t say thank you enough.”

“It’s not a problem,” Jade said, and pressed her hand against her shoulder with a wince. Her pony tail, usually high, had fallen down, and her dark hair brushed over her shoulder. “You paid me back in kind. Matthew somewhat trusts me now, so I consider that a win.”

“Meh, Matthew’s not that great.” Max winked. It was his duty to give his brother-in-law crap. That just came with the territory when Matthew married Kathleen.

“He made sure we saved you, so he can’t be all bad,” Jade said archly.

“You don’t strike me as the type who particularly cares what people think. Especially Matthew,” Max said, feeling like he’d made a big misstep and was trying to rectify it piece by piece. He remembered when he’d first seen her—post concussion, that is—when she’d been arguing with his brother-in-law outside his hotel room. “Honestly, it seems like he gave you crap and you gave it right back to him.”

“You’re right about that,” Jade said. “Just saying you shouldn’t talk badly about someone who came to your rescue.”

“I’m not,” Max said, bewildered. “I was just making a joke. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I’m not offended,” Jade said, sounding highly defensive. “I don’t care what you think. I don’t care what Matthew thinks.” She made a frustrated sound. “Can we just walk? It’s been a long day.”

“Sure,” Max said and cursed himself when he couldn’t resist adding, “I mean, Matthew definitely trusts you. From what I see. Just my two cents.”

“I don’t care,” Jade said. “All I care about is that it’s nice to be on the same side again. I’m just glad I can heal up at the hotel and Matthew’s not going to kick me out again and that’s thanks to you.”

“So now you’re thanking me?”

Jade rolled her eyes. “No. Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

For the first time in his life, Max decided to hold his tongue. There was a lot of “not caring” in Jade’s speech that made it seem as though she felt the exact opposite. Even though she wanted it to seem like Matthew’s good opinion didn’t matter to her, the undertone to her words and even the stiffening of her posture made him think it did. Very much.

Max was no stranger to idols. He’d worshipped movie stars, models, and rock legends openly. But when it came to people he personally knew and respected? He’d drop dead before he let on that he cared. Just look at him and Kathleen, for example. If he kept revealing his soft parts, she’d think he actually looked up to her and he couldn’t have that.

Walk in silence, Max. No one wants to listen to your philosophical rambles that belong more on social media than out in the open. And since social media doesn’t exist anymore, you should just be quiet. For god’s sake, be quiet.

Ahead of them, Patton’s ongoing ramble came to a stop, and the young boy put his hand on David’s arm. David had stopped walking and looked hunched over. His hands moved in jerking motions to clutch his heart.

“Grandpa?” Patton asked in a high-pitched voice. “Grandpa, are you okay?”

“Oh god,” Jade whispered next to Max and shoved him off, limping as fast as she could toward David.

‘What’s happening?” Max asked uselessly even as David collapsed to his knees on the road.

“Dad!” Patton cried out, making Matthew and Wyatt ahead of them turn around. Matthew’s eyes widened when he saw David on the ground, and he sprinted to his father.

Max tried to keep up with Jade as a sudden spike of dread drove into his heart. He remembered Kathleen talking about this—wasn’t David the whole reason they bought the hotel in the first place? Heart attack. The guy had had a heart attack, and it made all of them re-evaluate their life decisions. Oh god.

“What happened?” Matthew demanded as he sank to his knees beside his father.

“He started to breathe really heavy,” Patton said in a rush. “We were talking about making squirrel traps and then suddenly he started to sound garbled and he gasped and grabbed his chest. Dad, what’s happening? Dad?”

Matthew looked up at Max with terror. Even when Patton had been taken, Max had seen Matthew enraged, determined, smart, but he’d never seen Matthew look helpless. Matthew gripped David’s shoulder, and Max knew that Matthew’s worst fears had been realized.

“It’s a second heart attack,” Jade said. Her lips pressed into a thin line as if to contain her fear. “Isn’t it?”

“We need to get back to the hotel,” Matthew said, his voice trying to sound authoritative and instead coming out reedy with worry. “He needs to rest and get his medication. Wyatt—”

“On it,” Wyatt said, and dipped down to take the brunt of David’s weight. Matthew took David’s other side, and Patton slid in under their arms to hold up David’s waist.

“I can help,” Jade said. “We can lift him up and carry him together.”

Matthew looked back and shook his head. “You and Max can barely stand as it is. Help each other and meet us back at the hotel. I don’t want to leave you but—”

“It’s okay,” Jade cut in. “Get him home. Get his heart beating correctly. We’ll be right behind you.”

Max wished he knew something helpful to say, but instead he gaped like a fish out of water and tried to keep himself upright. When he linked arms with Jade, she felt as tense as a wire.

“He’s going to be okay,” Jade said as they watched Matthew, Wyatt, and Patton rush David up the mountain road. “He will. I know he will.”

For the second time in his life, Max held his tongue. He squeezed Jade’s arm. I hope so.

Epilogue

His beer was warm.

Samuel grimaced as he pried the cap off with a bottle opener. He’d lost count of how many he’d had today, but knew that each time he opened up a new one, it was warm. No condensation chilled his hands. Each swig did nothing to quench his thirst. He took a drink and snarled at the bottle. He knew some people drank their beer warm, but to him it did nothing but make him annoyed.

And he had plenty of things to be annoyed about these days. Warm beer didn’t have to be one of them.

He settled into his plush armchair and stared at the blank television screen. He couldn’t even watch the game anymore. Couldn’t even flip to his favorite reality-television show or watch the hunting channel. All he could do was sit here in his living room and stew in his anger. The shades had been drawn for days, letting an off-yellow sunlight through the slats that illuminated the old brown shag carpet, the wood-paneled walls, and the stacks of gun magazines piled up in one corner. Beyond that, unwashed dishes filled the porcelain sink and the refrigerator had started to smell off. Samuel had inherited this dump from his family, and he never kept it up, convinced his lucky break would show up any day now. That someday he would take back the hotel that was rightfully his and then his life would actually start.

But that hadn’t happened, had it? He took another swig of beer and let out an annoyed sigh. Now he would rot in this seventies-throwback house until the end of his days. He was running out of mac and cheese. For once in his life, he was getting sick of the powdered orange cheese flavoring. He had to figure out what to do next, but every time he thought of that posh city jerk holding his own beloved shotgun to his face, Samuel wanted to do nothing but crack open another bottle of beer and grimace that it wasn’t cold.

A sudden crashing noise broke the silence. Samuel went still and cocked his head, listening. Another crash, and this time, he knew some hooligan jerks had gotten into his garage. Too big a crash to be mice. Too small to be deer. Cursing his luck, Samuel stood and fetched Old Lucy from her spot leaning against the wall. At least he hadn’t lost this shotgun to some hotel-stealing property-thieves. Checking the bullets, he went to the door leading into the garage and opened it up slowly.

In the dim light, he could see two figures rifling through his tall toolbox. Well-kept silver Allen wrenches of all sizes crashed to the floor as one of the men uttered a curse. His drill followed next, the electric cord a useless bundle on the concrete like a curled snake.

“Even a band-aid, man,” one of the men said, clutching his shoulder.

“There’s nothing in here but measuring tapes and nails,” his partner snarled.

Samuel had about had enough of people taking what was his. He raised Old Lucy and cleared his throat.

Another crash. There went his screwdrivers pinging all over the ground. The one rifling through the box held up a small hammer and Samuel chuckled. The idiot was so scared Samuel could see the whites of his eyes.

“I’d love to chat, fellas,” Samuel drawled. “What right do you think you have to ruin my perfectly laid out tools?”

“Listen,” the man with the hammer stammered, “we don’t mean no harm.”

With his arms raised, Samuel could see the holster around the man’s waist. Empty. Pity.

“I sure hope not,” Samuel said, taking a step down so that he was fully in the garage. The door behind him swung closed with a practiced kick of his foot. “What’s wrong with your friend? He not scared of Old Lucy?”

The guy with the hammer glanced over his shoulder at his friend, who was clutching his shoulder and had kept his hands down. Blood coated the man’s fingers. “I can’t,” the wounded man said. “I’ve been shot. My arm doesn’t work.”

“Is that why you’re looking for a band-aid?” Samuel smirked.

The man with the hammer flushed, making his eyes glitter with the beginnings of anger. “That’s right.”

Samuel stepped closer and finally a ray of light strengthened through the dirty garage door windows, enough for him to make out the tattoos lining the man with the hammer’s fingers. Some of them sloppy, as if they’d been done in prison. Not too professional. The other one had the same markings, except all of them looked as though the ink was turning blue even though the man appeared to be fairly young.

“I could just shoot you both,” he said conversationally. “Won’t matter much to me. I don’t think anyone would miss a couple of fugitives like you. Where’d you break out of?”

The wounded man hissed. The man holding the hammer tightened his grip around the handle.

“But that would leave quite the mess in my garage,” Samuel said, raising the barrel until it was pointed straight at the wounded man’s forehead. “Not to mention the damage I’d do to my yard having to bury the both of you. So why don’t you tell Old Lucy what you’re really doing here. If I like your story, I might give you a band-aid. Probably has dinosaurs on it, though.”

The man with the hammer looked to his friend, and it seemed as though in their wordless exchange, they came to a decision. The man with the hammer turned back and met Samuel’s eyes.

No fear. Samuel liked that.

“Yeah, okay, we’ve been to prison,” the man growled and lowered his blunt weapon, “and we were here on a job. Help some poor low-level nobody get revenge on his friend. Colin, though, he’s crazy. Kidnapped a kid, for god’s sake.”

“The friend’s nephew,” the wounded man added in helpfully.

“Shut up, Jimmy. Yeah, the nephew. Makes all these threats that he’s gonna beat the kid up, do awful things to him if his uncle doesn’t show. Well, when his uncle does show, he brings his whole mountain-family with him and opens fire on us. Me and Jimmy, we barely made it out with our lives.”

“Killed the rest of our gang, didn’t they, Dean? Took Colin out with a shot to the stomach. Brutal way to go, man. Brutal.”

“Shut up, Jimmy. Yeah, got Colin in the gut, and the rest fell to the ground. Hit Jimmy straight in the shoulder, but hey, we don’t got skin in that game. No point giving our lives for some crazy nobody who kidnaps kids. Wasn’t my hostage situation, and if it was, I would’ve handled it a whole lot better than Colin.”

“Not that we haven’t kidnapped kids before. Right, Dean?”

“Shut up, Jimmy. Yeah, we’ve done crap like that before, but only because it came from up high. Colin meant nothing to us, and now here we are in some backwoods hideout, trying to stop Jimmy from bleeding out. I’d rather be back in Chicago, man, I haven’t seen that kind of firepower in a long time. First time Jimmy has been hit, too.”

“I’d like that dinosaur band-aid,” Jimmy said helpfully.

Samuel didn’t speak for a moment, mulling over their story in his mind. “You don’t know who this family was?” he finally asked.

“Nope,” Jimmy said. “Didn’t know any of them. Did you, Dean?”

“Shut up, Jimmy. Of course I didn’t know any of them. Never even been out of Chicago this far before. The fresh air is giving me hives.”

Jimmy laughed. “Good one, Dean. Good one.”

Samuel eyed the two men up and down again. Fugitives, yes. Idiots, also yes. But he could work with guys like these who seemed to take orders and yet knew how to get their hands dirty. “You feel like getting a little revenge before you head back to Chicago?” he asked. “Might want to take out that mountain-family for what they did to your friends?”

“Colin wasn’t our friend,” Jimmy said, clutching his wound tighter. Blood started to spread down his arm. “But the others were. Remember Big Ollie? He was good people, Dean. Good people.”

“Jimmy, seriously. Shut up. Yeah, Big Ollie was good people. Honestly. we can’t go back to the cartel without something to show for it or they’ll think we’re the ones that bungled everything.”

“Or that we ran away,” Jimmy pointed out.

“Which we didn’t,” Dean said heatedly.

“Might be able to get some of those guns they had, do you think, Dean? Lots of firepower.”

“Yeah, Jimmy. First good idea you’ve had all day.”

Samuel rolled his eyes. “Are you a married couple or mob men?” he demanded. “What’s it going to be, yes or no?”

For a blessed moment, the two fugitives did that eye-communication thing. Dean turned back to Samuel. “Yes,” he said. “Not for Colin. But for Big Ollie.”

“Good man,” Samuel said and lowered Old Lucy. “Come on inside, then. The beer is warm, but we won’t let that stand in our way. Nothing will stand in our way now.”

End of Erupting Danger

EMP Catastrophe Book Two

Blurb

A dire situation keeps getting worse…

When Matthew Riley’s father collapses with a possible heart attack, it drives home just how bad the situation in Galena, IL has become after an EMP knocked out the power around the world. David needs medication and the group needs a doctor if everyone is going to survive in the long term. But hostile forces have their eyes on the River Rock Hotel, and keeping the family safe may be impossible.

Things aren’t going back to normal…

Kathleen Riley knows it, even if her husband hasn’t admitted it yet. With new allies at their side, the Riley family has a chance to fortify their hotel and start rebuilding a life in the new world. But with Matthew rushing to make things seem normal again, they’re at risk of exposing themselves to hostile forces.

An old enemy returns…

Life is already difficult enough even before the family receives news that Samuel West is back in town. He’s brought friends and he’s ready to fight to take control of the Red Rock Hotel and the remnants of Galena. The Rileys will do anything to keep their land, but after another tragedy strikes they may not be able to win. After all, what is survival worth if everything you’re surviving for is never coming back?

1

Within Matthew’s arms, David’s weak form slowly became dead weight.

David’s feet stumbled against the ground, his toes dragging, even with Matthew and Wyatt’s strength keeping him upright. Patton grunted as he tried to help hold his grandfather up. The heavy press of David’s shoulders sank into Matthew, seeming to become wooden and lifeless.

The weight made Matthew’s muscles tremble with exertion as he tried to encourage his father to continue walking up the mountain and back to the hotel. We’re not going to make it, he thought, panicked.

Patton let out a frustrated cry of denial just before David slipped from their collective grasp, nearly collapsing on the ground. Matthew caught Wyatt’s concerned gaze. They needed to pause and readjust. More than that, they needed to make sure David was still breathing. The thought sent another wave of panicked grief through him, but Matthew refused to give in to it. David was still alive. This was just a setback. They could handle this. They would get David home. All he needed was rest. Once they got back to the hotel, David would be fine.

Matthew’s arms shook as he and Wyatt laid David face-up on the side of the road. When Matthew knelt over his father, the sight of David’s face filled him with dread. David looked pale. Sweat dotted his brow. When Matthew reached out to touch his cheek, his father’s skin felt clammy and cold.

“Dad, I’m sorry,” Patton sobbed. “Grandpa was too heavy. I didn’t mean to drop him!”

Matthew took in a shuddering breath and was about to console his son when his mind went blank, all except for the image of his parents’ old house in Chicago. That cramped dining room filled to the brim with inherited furniture, and the smell of roasted chicken filling the air.

This couldn’t be happening again. Memories slammed into him like a hammer hitting an anvil. David’s mouth parted just a touch and he took a wheezing breath in, but he didn’t exhale.

Was this another heart attack?

Not again, Matthew thought as he fell to his knees and placed his hands over David’s chest. Forming fists, he pushed hard against the breastbone protecting David’s heart. He began to do chest compressions and rescue breathing. With each pump of his hands pushing into David’s chest, he remembered the first time he’d done this. The first time he’d failed at this…

He, Kathleen, and the kids had gone over to his parents’ house for dinner. It had been a semi-consistent event for them. Half the time they cancelled dinners because of Matthew’s meetings going late with clients, or Kathleen needing to stay up late to grade papers, or sometimes they were just too exhausted and lied, ordering pizza and feeling guilty instead. But this time, they’d honored their commitment.

The dinner had been a chaotic affair in that small, contained way that family get-togethers can be. He remembered Patton excitedly talking Ruth’s ear off as she stuck the rosemary chicken breasts into the oven, and how Kathleen scolded Allison for turning into a texting zombie, and then promptly scolded Matthew for checking his emails too often. How David had grumbled when Ruth put him to work whipping the potatoes. Matthew had poured himself a glass of wine, his thoughts on a contract he was waiting to finalize. All it would need was his signature, and then another fun project and a payday was promised to him. He checked his email again and ignored Kathleen’s scowl.

Over dinner, David and Matthew had gotten into a light-hearted disagreement over politics. David had just shot off another barbed comment to Matthew when he suddenly gasped and put his hand over his chest. His face went deadly pale. Sweat beaded his brow. When Matthew put his hand on David’s arm to steady him, his father sank to the floor as though he were a puppet and all of his strings had suddenly been cut.

“You’re not going deep enough,” Wyatt said, breaking Matthew’s memory to pieces.

“I can do it,” Matthew said through gritted teeth. He began to push harder into David’s chest, hating that with each pump of his fists, David’s face seemed to become that much more lax, as if all his life were seeping out of him. Matthew couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop this. Why couldn’t he stop it? He had to stop it.

He remembered how David had slipped through his arms that first time. He’d been so shocked. David’s body had headed toward the carpet as if he didn’t know how to respond properly. As if David had lost control of his limbs. Matthew had fumbled at David’s arm, wrenching it awkwardly, as David landed on the floor with a crash. His mother shrieked. Kathleen gasped before crying out, “I’m calling 911!” Allison walked back into the dining room and said, “Dad, what’s wrong with Grandpa?” in a lost voice, while Patton peeked around her with eyes wide as saucers.

Matthew hadn’t had time to respond, then. His fingers had touched the loose skin of David’s neck, seeking a pulse. There was no steadying thump, not even a stilted one, against David’s neck or even under his jaw. In an instant, the image of David as this Goliath of a man had shattered and fragmented. For Matthew, David had always been a staple of his life, someone that seemed immortal, who would never be absent. Now, that figure was leaving and would be gone forever unless Matthew stopped it. He had to stop it.

Matthew had taken a CPR course a while ago, as a qualification for a marketing stunt as well as for his own peace of mind. He vaguely remembered what he was supposed to do. He never thought he’d have to use that training in his life. Falling to his knees on the carpet, Matthew had started to do chest compressions on his father and felt the sudden pop under his hands as David’s ribs broke from the pressure. The minutes before the ambulance arrived were punctuated by fear and tears. Matthew had never been more relieved than when the paramedics swooped in and took over for him. David had been loaded on a stretcher, an oxygen mask slipped over his nose and mouth, and one of the EMTs called out that David was temporarily stable before hauling his father into their van.

As Matthew had watched the red and blue lights illuminate him in strobes, he knew that something had fundamentally changed. It was a fleeting impression, though, because Ruth had commanded him to get in the van with his father, yelling that she and Kathleen would follow the ambulance to the hospital in the car. He had chucked his keys at Kathleen and scrambled into the ambulance. He had tried to fold himself into a small space while the EMTs passed vials to each other, strung tubing from liquid pouches to David’s arms, and spoke in medical jargon beyond Matthew’s understanding.

Now, there would be no ambulance to swoop in and save the day. There were no EMTs to arrive like knights, ready to stabilize and transfer his father’s failing body to a safe haven of treatment. There was only a lonely stretch of road on a mountain, and Matthew’s fragmented memories.

“Matthew,” Wyatt said, once more shattering Matthew’s recollection. “Man, you’re still not going deep enough. You have to press harder.”

“I’m trying,” Matthew said and put as much weight and pressure as he could into the chest compressions. He felt strangely weak, as if after everything, this would be the event that stole his strength. Beneath him, he watched as David slipped further away. The compressions only seemed to rock David back and forth instead of making him breathe again. Matthew bit down on a cry of anger. He tried to keep his rhythm by humming “When the Saints Go Marching In,” but he couldn’t hold the beat. His arms felt like limp noodles. Beside him, Patton let out a thick sob.

“Matthew, this isn’t going to work,” Wyatt said. “Your compressions aren’t working.”

With a grunt, Matthew looked up at Wyatt. “Can you do better?” he demanded.

“Yeah,” Wyatt said bluntly, but Matthew knew the Marine wasn’t being arrogant. “Let me.”

“Okay,” Matthew said, even though it was the hardest thing he had ever done, and let Wyatt’s hands take over. He heard the quiet crunch of broken ribs on Wyatt’s first compressions, and Matthew knew Wyatt had been right. Matthew cursed himself as he slumped on the ground and Patton put a hand on his shoulder. Once again, Matthew had wasted a ton of time thinking that he knew what he was doing, and instead he only made things worse.

The crunch of gravel came to his right. He looked up to see that Max and Jade had caught up with them. Jade seemed a touch better, despite her gunshot wound, but her face turned grave when she saw David. Max’s face was pinched with pain. Wyatt glanced up from his ministrations and barked at Jade, “Can you run?”

Jade nodded. “I think so,” she said. “What do I need to do?”

“I can run,” Max cut in and untangled himself from around Jade.

“I’m faster,” Jade said smoothly, and Max’s mouth dropped in irritation, as if to say how would you know?

“Run to the gun club as fast as you can,” Wyatt instructed. “Get Nikki. Tell her we need her. Right now. It’s life or death.”

“Got it,” Jade said as she pressed a hand to her shoulder wound and took off down the side road leading to the gun club. She staggered a bit, but she disappeared quickly around the bend in the road. She was fast.

Matthew let out a deep breath and tried to clear his head. Wyatt was hard at work keeping David alive, but there had to be something Matthew could do to help. The way David seemed so motionless, rocked by Wyatt’s chest compressions, made that building grief inside Matthew swell to the bursting point. He couldn’t let it overwhelm him. David still had a fighting chance. They would make it out of here alive and well, but if David was truly unconscious, there was no way they’d be able to haul him the rest of the way up the mountain without help.

“Let’s build a stretcher,” Matthew said to Max and Patton. “We’ll need it for when Jade gets back with Nikki.”

Matthew had no idea who Nikki was, but if Wyatt had sent for her, she must be skilled and could help. Right now, he trusted Wyatt to help him save his father, but Matthew wouldn’t let himself become a bystander. Useless.

“How?” Max asked, looking around in exasperation. “How do we build a stretcher?”

“Find some branches,” Matthew said, studying the huge pine trees surrounding them. “We can gather the fallen ones and lash them together. We need some strong boughs to create the frame, and then smaller ones that will bend and hold his weight. Ones that provide cushioning.”

Patton nodded. “I’m on it, Dad.”

They split up and each ducked into the woods. Matthew found some thick branches from a fallen tree that he dragged back to the main road. He broke off other, greener boughs with still-soft needles from younger trees. Others littered the ground, felled by either wind or animals. With his arms full, he carefully walked back to the road. When Patton and Max returned mere minutes later, they set their hauls on the ground. Together, they laid out the length of the frame and used some long, stringy grasses as rope. Unfortunately, the grass didn’t hold well, leaving their frame to collapse into bits.

“Our shirts,” Patton said, stripping his off and tearing the material.

“Good idea,” Matthew said. He unzipped his overcoat and used it to span the length of the frame, tying the arms to each end. Max handed Matthew his button-down, and soon enough, they had a frame fashioned out of clothes and branches, ready for David.

All the while, Wyatt’s chest compressions kept a steady rhythm against David’s chest. Matthew closed his eyes briefly, his mind empty of anything except for that welling grief and the word, please.

2

Wyatt’s chest compressions seemed to go on for far too long. With help, Matthew edged the stretcher close to David. It was a little too short, and smelled of pine sap and sweat, but it would be wide enough to hold David, at least. Matthew paused for a moment, hoping for any indication that Wyatt would announce David could be moved. Or that he had started breathing again. Or that none of this was happening and it was all a dream.

Wyatt didn’t look up. His attention was focused solely on the steady push against David’s chest. Though Wyatt was achieving the pressure and depth required, it had been a while. The implications made Matthew sway on his feet, dizzy with fear as his mind grasped for anything else he could do to help. But there were no operating hospitals or running cars. He couldn’t call anyone for help. He couldn’t find a place that could care for David. There was nothing he could do but wait and hope.

Patton’s hand slipped into his. Matthew squeezed tightly and looked down at his son.

“Will Grandpa be okay?” Patton asked in a soft, wobbling voice.

“I don’t know,” Matthew whispered back. He wished he could offer comfort, but this was one of his worst nightmares come true. He’d tried so hard for David not to have a second heart attack, and yet here they were. “I wish I knew if he was going to be okay, Patton, but I don’t.”

Patton’s mouth thinned into a line, as though he were holding in his own fear and grief. Matthew put his arms around Patton’s shoulders and pulled him close. He might not have comforting words, but he could hold Patton and be strong for him in that way.

The sound of feet pounding on the pavement made Matthew’s eyes snap away from David and Wyatt and up toward the road leading to the gun club. He could make out two shapes full-on running toward them. He recognized the swinging fringe of Jade’s jacket and the dark flip of her ponytail. The other short-statured woman he assumed must be Nikki. Matthew’s heart raced in anticipation. Whoever this Nikki lady was, he hoped she could help.

When the women reached them, Nikki fell to her knees next to Wyatt without greeting him or asking what had happened. Her round cheeks were red with exertion as she took over for Wyatt. Wyatt leaned back with a sigh of relief, and Matthew noted that his hands were shaking. After a moment, Nikki leaned in as if to check on David’s breathing and then began mouth-to-mouth.

Fear filled Matthew again. He hated every minute of this. How it made him feel both helpless and restless to do something. Yet it seemed that the most helpful thing he could do was to stay out of the way. As Nikki pushed her shoulder-length auburn hair over her shoulder to breathe life into David, Matthew remembered being at the emergency room the first time this had happened. He remembered leaping out of the ambulance and the EMTs demanding an intubation from a young man who looked just as scared as Matthew had been, whom Matthew assumed to be a medical intern. The intern’s hands quivered around the complicated medical equipment until the senior EMT had shooed him away and taken matters into their own hands. Matthew couldn’t blame the intern, even as he was filled with rage that his father was considered the perfect teaching moment while he fought for his life. Watching that thick paddle be shoved down David’s throat had filled Matthew with a shock both terrifying and full of respect.

Matthew looked at Nikki’s small hands. They seemed like a laborer’s hands, unsuited for the delicate work of medical practice, but the woman navigated David like a professional, making Matthew certain she worked in the field. Her hands didn’t shake a bit.

“C’mon,” Nikki said in a rush to David. “C’mon.”

Matthew bit down on a hundred follow-up questions as a breeze floated by him with the scent of crisp mountain freshness. For a moment, the whole scene seemed unreal. Part of a bad dream. How had they gotten here? This was the exact situation that Matthew and the rest of his family had sought to avoid. It was why they’d decided to buy the hotel in the first place. Once Matthew had realized he’d been more concerned with his incoming emails and signing contracts than he was with building memories with his father, he knew his life needed to change. Buying the hotel was supposed to be that change and give them all purpose and peace. It was supposed to make them slow down. They were supposed to make new memories together while David healed and recovered. But now, it all seemed to have become convoluted.

This situation couldn’t be happening. Yet here they were, fighting for David’s life for the second time.

Time seemed to stretch and contract. It seemed as though Nikki had been working CPR on David for eons, while at the same time the sun was in the same position above his head and had barely moved. Max put his hand on Patton’s other shoulder, and the three of them stood closely together. Waiting for Nikki to call it. Waiting for Nikki to look up and do that slow head shake.

Except when Nikki did look up, a relieved, triumphant smile crossed her lips. Matthew’s heart nearly stopped beating too when he saw David’s chest rise and fall on its own. Short, shallow intakes, but short, shallow, independent intakes. Tears prickled against Matthew’s eyes.

“He’s not out of the woods yet,” Nikki said to Matthew. “Not by a long shot.”

She had one of those no-nonsense voices that brooked no argument. The kind of person who had unwillingly tempered their data-and-facts analytical nature with a grudging bedside manner, giving them that tough-love compassion. If they had been in a hospital setting, Matthew might have taken offense at her sharp and to-the-point tone. But now, all he could be was relieved that she had enough knowledge to help them.

“Can we move him?” Max asked, and Matthew was grateful that his brother-in-law could remember to ask the questions he hadn’t been able to.

Nikki glanced at the stretcher. “I think he’s stable enough. The gun club is close, so the trek won’t be that far. I think he can make it.”

“We need to take him to the hotel,” Matthew said sharply. He didn’t want his father in an unknown environment. He especially didn’t want to have his father wake up, disoriented, and panic at being someplace unfamiliar. “My family is there. It’s not that much farther than the gun club.”

“It’s far enough,” Wyatt put in. “They’re at the River Rock Hotel, Nik,” he finished.

Nikki nodded in understanding. “It would be better to go to the gun club,” she said. “Everything I have to help him is there. I need to make a full examination. Or as much of one as I can without hospital equipment.”

“But his wife and family are at the hotel,” Matthew argued, feeling a surge of protectiveness wash through him. For some reason, he felt if he let David go to the gun club, he would never come out. He wanted his father at Matthew’s place, in a place he knew. At their home.

Nikki hesitated and bit her lip. “They can come to the gun club, can’t they?”

“Isn’t it part of recovery? To be in a place you’re comfortable and know? If he wakes up alone in a strange place, would that cause him to have another heart attack?” Matthew asked, feeling desperate.

Nikki looked agonized. “Yes, it would be helpful for him to be in a place he knows, but at this point, in his current state, I’m not sure he’ll make it.” She paused. “You’re his son?”

“I am,” Matthew said.

“Next of kin gets to decide,” Nikki said with a wan smile. “You make the call, hoss. Where are we going?”

“The hotel,” Matthew said, even as he began to second-guess his own decision. Shouldn’t he defer to Nikki’s good judgment? But that persistent dread that told him David had to go to the hotel to be safe overrode any other internal objections. “I want to take my father to the hotel.”

“Then that’s where we go,” Nikki said, and as simple as that, she gestured to Wyatt. “Can you load him onto the stretcher? We need to make it as smooth as possible, but it will take all of us to do it. We don’t want to jostle him too much.”

“Got it,” Wyatt said and then gestured to Jade. “Hang back on this one, okay? I know you’re tough, but we don’t want you to pull on that gunshot wound more than you have to.”

“So that’s what happened,” Nikki said even as Jade appeared to clamp her mouth down on a protest. “I wondered why there was so much blood on you.”

“It’s stopped bleeding,” Jade said. “Kinda.”

“Let’s not make it worse,” Matthew said as he moved around to his father’s head. He bent down and slipped his hands under his father’s shoulders. David’s lips were open and pale, shallow breaths wisping through his mouth. His eyes were shut. His skin was still too pale. It was as though the heart attack had once again stolen all of his strength. Wyatt stood at David’s feet, while Nikki stood on one side of him and Max on the other. Patton hovered and tried to find a space to help.

“Support his back as best you can,” Nikki instructed Max. “As soon as they pick up his legs and shoulders, he will sag, and we want to keep him as flat as possible. We only have to lift him up and set him down. Nothing more.”

Matthew took in a deep breath and crouched down. He cupped his hands around his father’s shoulder blades.

“One,” Nikki said. “Two. Three.”

Matthew tensed, and for a moment, he feared they wouldn’t be able to hoist him up. Then, all as one, they lifted him smoothly up. David was heavy, and if one of them slipped it would all be over. Matthew’s arms strained with exertion. Patton stepped forward and grabbed one of David’s shoulders to keep it from rotating over and out of Matthew’s grip. As one, they took a step to the side and lowered David slowly onto the handmade stretcher with a whoosh.

Matthew assumed his father would make a grunt, but David uttered no sound. His head just slipped to the side and his breath wheezed out. “Is he okay?” Matthew asked, looking to Nikki.

“So far, so good,” she said, moving up to check his pulse and breathing. “Let’s try to be as easy on him as possible getting him up the mountain. We’ll have to do the same thing to get him into a bed, too. Can you and Wyatt take him up the mountain or do you need help?”

Matthew looked at Wyatt for confirmation. Wyatt nodded and took the rudimentary wooden handles near David’s head. “We can handle it,” Matthew said.

“We’ll follow up behind you,” Nikki said. “Get there as fast as you can, but don’t rush so that you jostle him. Cautious speed is what I’m going for. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Matthew said, eager to get going up to the hotel. He put his hands around the logs that acted as handles for the stretcher. Sap stuck to his hands. “Are you ready?” he asked Wyatt.

“Born ready,” Wyatt said with a smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll get him home in no time.”

Matthew tried to return the smile. “Thank you.”

“On three?” Wyatt asked. “One. Two. Three.”

It was easier to lift the stretcher, even if the weight was more intense. He and Wyatt struggled for a moment to find the right kind of rhythm, but once they did, they were able to move ahead quickly. Patton jogged beside Matthew. Behind him, he heard Nikki say, “I really should check out your shoulder.”

“Are you actually a doctor?” Jade said, her voice somewhat caustic.

“A young one, but yes I am. Do I not look like one?”

Matthew snorted. Leave it to Jade to offend the only medical professional of the group.

“I didn’t mean...” Jade trailed off. “Look, it’s just a graze. I’ll get it cleaned up when we get back to the hotel. After you’ve seen to David, I’ll let you check me out. But please, focus your attention on him. He’s the one in danger. Not me.”

Nikki sighed. “As you wish,” she said. “But can I just see if it’s infected?”

Matthew stifled a smile as he and Wyatt hustled up the mountain out of earshot of the others. After everything that had happened between him and Jade, she still was putting David first. He might have made some assumptions about her, and he had never really given her the second chance she deserved, but after today he’d give her a million chances. Deep down, Jade was a good person, and for the first time Matthew was truly glad she was on his team.

3

Matthew’s arms ached as he and Wyatt hiked up the last incline that indicated the hotel was close, just around the bend. When the mountain road flattened and the River Rock Hotel came into view, Matthew sagged in relief. The stretcher holding David wobbled and Matthew straightened up, making sure he didn’t jostle his father. Even if they were finally home, David was still in danger.

Wyatt never faltered, even though sweat shone damp on the back of his neck. Together, they hustled to the hotel. Patton jogged up beside Matthew and nudged Matthew’s hands on one of the hewed handles to make space, taking some of the weight. Patton’s cheeks were flushed red with exertion and a swell of pride fill Matthew’s chest. Behind him, he heard the far-off and terse conversation between Nikki, Jade, and Max as the story of their injuries was relayed to the doctor. Jade’s sharp words mingled with Nikki’s no-nonsense attitude and Matthew suspected they would have a test of wills sooner rather than later. Honestly, he hoped Jade won, even though he knew she would have to yield to get the treatment she needed for her shoulder.

David’s face began to take on a bit of color from the sun, even though he seemed unnaturally pale and hadn’t stopped sweating. He barely made a sound, despite the many bumps he’d been through on their walk back up to the mountain. The absence of his father’s complaints or offers of advice made Matthew miss him acutely. He hoped that Nikki would be able to help him. He felt relieved that they had a medical professional in their midst. It calmed the panic that was continuously building inside of him. Not much, but some.

As soon as they got to the front steps of the hotel, the front door slammed open. Kathleen rushed out. Her face was pinched and frantic, but once she laid eyes on Patton, she let out a soft sob of relief.

“Patton, thank God,” she said.

“Hi, Mom,” Patton said, giving her a smile.

Kathleen’s eyes roved over Matthew and then settled on David. Her relief melted away. “What happened?” she demanded.

“Dad’s been hurt,” Matthew grunted as he and Wyatt ascended the steps. “We need a first-floor room right away.”

“I’ll get it,” she said. “Ruth and Allison are in the kitchen. Matthew…”

“She has to see sometime,” Matthew said. “Mom’s stronger than you think, Kathleen.”

Kathleen nodded and bolted into the house, holding the main door open for them. As Matthew and Wyatt maneuvered through it, he heard the scuffles of his daughter’s footfalls along with the soft tones of his mother. He couldn’t focus on her, not yet. He had to get his father into a safe place before they told her about what happened.

“Oh my god, David!”

“He’s hurt, Ruth, we just have to get him in a bed,” Kathleen said.

Ruth and Allison darted forward and began moving the furniture in the main lobby out of the way. Kathleen motioned them across the room and toward the hallway on the other side of the lobby where a few of the guest rooms were. Patton let go of the stretcher, leaving Matthew with the rest of the weight, and helped move obstacles out of their path. Matthew tilted David gently as he and Wyatt passed through the narrow entrance of the hallway and managed to get him into one of the rooms.

It was a small suite, with an adjoining bathroom and a gorgeous mountain view. Kathleen opened the drapes to let in the sunlight. Wyatt swung the stretcher into the room, allowing Matthew to inch inside, until they stood on one side of the queen-sized bed.

“Lift him and lay him down,” Matthew instructed.

Wyatt didn’t have to be told twice. Together, they hefted the stretcher up until they could slide it onto the old-fashioned, rose-patterned quilt. Matthew didn’t care about the style, only that it was comfortable for his father. David uttered a small groan as they settled him onto the bed. Matthew stepped back and stretched his burning muscles. Wyatt let out a sigh of relief. But their job wasn’t done yet.

“Has he been shot?” Ruth asked from the doorway.

Matthew turned to her. She looked unnaturally pale and sick. “No,” he said. “He had another heart attack.”

“Is he…still alive?” Ruth choked out.

“Yes,” Matthew said, wanting to grab his mother and hold her tight, but then Nikki pushed past Ruth with a curt nod of greeting. She entered and put her hands on her hips. She glanced around the room, as if taking everything in and finding it satisfactory. “We need to roll him side to side to remove the stretcher,” she said.

Matthew nodded and he, Wyatt, and Kathleen started untying the clothes that held the stretcher in place. Sap coated his fingers. Bark pieces fell onto the blanket, covering it in a layer of debris as he worked at the knots, which were tighter after the weight and pressure that had been put on them. Finally, he handed the wooden poles of the stretcher back behind him to Max and Jade. His brother-in-law took one of the poles, and Jade insisted on taking the other out of the hotel.

“Be careful, young lady,” Nikki yelled at Jade. “Don’t hurt yourself more than you have to!”

“I’m probably older than you, you baby,” Jade yelled back.

Matthew sighed and looked at Patton. “Can you help her?” he asked.

Patton nodded and scooted out of the room, laying a gentle hand on his grandmother before he left. Again, Matthew felt a surge of pride in his son. He’d been through so much and he still had the capacity to give his grandmother a little bit of love and empathy.

“Okay,” Nikki said, taking the other side of the bed next to Wyatt. “We’re going to roll him toward us. Wyatt and I will hold him while you remove the clothes from the stretcher.”

Matthew nodded and positioned his hands on David’s shoulder. Next to him, Kathleen put her hands on David’s waist and hip. Together, they pushed David into a tilt and onto his side.

“Gently,” Nikki cautioned.

Matthew quickly grabbed the loose shirts and coats out from under his father while Kathleen worked on removing the boughs and pine needles. Matthew dumped the clothes on the floor and then began sweeping the tree debris out from under David, sending it all tumbling to the ground but leaving the space underneath clean.

“Okay, done,” he said. Nikki and Wyatt lowered David back down. “We should do the other side,” Matthew put in.

Without a word, Nikki and Wyatt pushed and Kathleen and Matthew held all of David’s weight as Nikki and Wyatt cleaned everything else out from under David. “It looks good,” Wyatt said as they lowered David back down.

When they had finished, Matthew stepped back, wiped his forehead, and gave Kathleen a tight hug. He looked over her shoulder at his mother, who was standing unnaturally still against the doorframe. Her eyes looked haunted. “What happened?” she asked in a small voice.

“I think he’s had a heart attack,” Nikki said. “I’m Nikki, by the way.” She held out her hand for Ruth to shake, and Ruth accepted with a limp wrist.

Ruth swallowed hard. “Should I get you his heart medication?” she asked.

“Actually, yes,” Nikki said. “That would be really helpful.”

Ruth looked at David for a long moment before turning around and leaving. When she returned moments later with a handful of yellow pill bottles, Nikki examined each of them with a critical eye. Wyatt sat down in an accent chair in one corner of the room. Matthew tightened his arms around Kathleen. He knew she was bursting with questions about what happened to them, that she wanted to check Patton and Max over, to see with her own eyes that everyone was alive and well. He was grateful she was helping them solve this crisis first, though.

Nikki held up one of the pill bottles, making the pills inside clink together. “Has he had a heart attack before?”

“Yes, over a year ago,” Ruth said, slowly coming closer to David and taking his limp hand in hers. “He had a partially clogged artery. The cardiologist wanted to see if the medicines helped him before going to drastic measures of surgery. She said the surgery route wasn’t necessary because the artery wasn’t completely clogged.” Ruth sat at the edge of the bed and took David’s hand into her lap. “Honestly, I thought he was doing well, despite everything that had happened. He had fire and determination. He pushed himself too far sometimes, but he always seemed to recover. I hoped this would never happen.”

“It’s a hard thing to predict,” Nikki said as she unscrewed one of the pill bottle caps. One of the pills tumbled out into her palm, and she walked into the adjoining bathroom. Matthew gave Kathleen one more squeeze before letting go and following her. He watched as Nikki used one of the guest room cups to crush the pill.

“Do you have any water?” she asked without looking up.

Matthew nodded and fetched some, handing her a fresh bottle. She took off the cap and used it to sprinkle some water on the crushed pill, turning it into a paste on the edge of the sink. Then she used the cap to put the paste into the cup and poured a minimal amount of water into it. The water turned a cloudy white and seemed to have the consistency of orange juice with heavy pulp. Definitely drinkable, but chunky.

She walked by Matthew and said to him, “Help me hold him up.”

Matthew nodded, and he and Kathleen lifted David’s shoulders and neck into a somewhat upright position. David’s head lolled against Matthew’s shoulder. Matthew’s own heart wanted to break seeing his father this way. Nikki gently eased the concoction into David’s mouth, stroking his throat to help him swallow the medicine. It took a long time before the cup was empty and even then, Nikki swirled more water around in it to make sure he’d gotten everything. By the time she was finished, Matthew’s arms were aching again, and he saw the same strain reflected on Kathleen’s face.

“Okay, that’s it,” Nikki said, and she reached out to help Matthew and Kathleen ease David back on the mattress.

Ruth took up her position beside him and took David’s hands. “Do you think the medicine will help?”

Nikki shrugged even as her face looked bleak. “It can’t hurt,” she said. “Honestly, many of these medicines are mostly preventative, but they won’t do anything to worsen his condition. That being said, there’s a possibility that they might not be enough to help him at this point.”

Matthew sighed and helped plump the pillow David rested on. Beside him, his mother was still once more, as if she was trying to withstand the storm. Too still, really, but he knew that she was digesting information and would most likely need to be alone to vent her grief. “What else can we do?” Matthew asked.

“I assume that the stress of the last few weeks didn’t help his condition any,” Nikki said, running her hands through her auburn hair. “That, plus one of you had a gunshot wound, so I don’t think you’ve been living an easy life since everything went to hell.” She looked at Matthew. “What have you guys been eating? What did his diet look like?”

“Lucky Charms,” Ruth said flatly. “Lots of protein bars.”

“Manufactured foods,” Nikki said with a nod. “A survival diet for the century. I feel you, I’ve been doing the same. That probably didn’t do his arteries any favors, either. All that fat and carbs and protein, plus the processed sugars.” Nikki waved her hand in front of her as if cutting herself off. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that he probably hasn’t eaten a lot of fresh foods, right?”

Matthew let out a breath. “Yeah,” he said. “We didn’t really have a choice.”

“I can’t blame you,” Nikki said. “I was in the same boat. You can’t really be picky when it’s a choice between eating crap or eating nothing at all. That being said, I have no way of knowing the extent of the damage done to him. Honestly, I don’t even know if this is a real heart attack or something that mimics an attack. Does he have a history of anxiety or panic attacks?”

Ruth shook her head. “No, not that I’m aware of.”

“Okay,” Nikki said and put her hands back on her hips. “I just hate making a diagnosis without knowing more.”

“Nik, you’re thinking too hard,” Wyatt said. “What’s the easiest solution?”

“Probably a second heart attack.”

“Okay then, what do we need to do for that?”

Nikki went silent for a moment. “It’s not that easy, Wyatt. Providing medical care for a patient that has internal injuries or trauma without electronic monitors is near impossible. I was trained to figure this all out with X-rays and scopes and electricity. Without it, I can’t get a clear picture of what’s happening inside his body.”

“If it is a clogged artery, wouldn’t it be worth it to find that out and clear it out? Or even clear out the partially obstructed artery?” Matthew asked.

Nikki looked agonized. “Surgery is risky even in a safe environment. Exploratory surgery on a patient without anesthesia would likely cause him go into shock from the pain. Cracking his chest open and messing with his heart is a good way for him to get infected. Infections could mean that he’d get worse even if I was successful at removing the blockages or putting in a stent. Plus, they are especially likely without a sterile environment. I’m limited. I’m so sorry, but I’m limited in what I can tell you and do for him.”

“Tell us what we can do,” Wyatt said. “You’re the one with all the knowledge. Give us some hope.”

Nikki rubbed her face with her hands. “For acute angina episodes, he probably needs a higher dose of nitroglycerin. Most likely, his doctor put him on a low dosage to see how he reacted. You said he was still full of fire, but would get winded?”

“He’d get tired and would have to rest. He’d sweat sometimes. But most of the time I think he avoided his meds as much as possible,” Matthew said. “In fact, I’m not even sure he was taking that preventative one.” Indeed, the bottle seemed mostly full.

“So adherence is going to be the most important thing.” Nikki looked out the window and the sunlight highlighted the green in her hazel eyes. “We’ll have to keep him on an aspirin regimen at a minimum, but there are a number of other medications that could help him—a higher dosage of beta blockers, an ACE inhibitor, even statins.”

“Sorry, what?” Matthew asked.

“Medicine for heart failure. They relax the blood vessels. Lower blood pressure or cholesterol. All things that put less strain on the heart,” Nikki said.

“Where do we find that kind of stuff?” Matthew asked.

Nikki took a deep breath. “The hospital,” she said. “While I’m making a shopping list it would be great to have some IV antibiotics in case he did get infected. Might as well go all out and get medical supplies for other injuries like suture kits, sterile gloves, and oh, can Santa please bring me some bandages while we’re asking for miracles?”

“Maybe we need to make a trip, then,” Matthew said, ignoring her sarcasm. “I might not be able to bring you miracles, but Galena does have a hospital. It’s about time we go down there and see what we can do. We’ll need those things regardless at some point. Why not get them now?”

Nikki stared at him even as a smile of appreciation spread across her lips. “I like how you think. Problem-solver, huh? Okay. Let’s figure this out. How do we get to the hospital?”

4

A surge of decisiveness ran through Matthew at Nikki’s question.

She dangled a purpose in front of him, and he was eager to pursue it. Going to the hospital would mean he could help his father. He wouldn’t have to be stuck in this newly-created sickroom. He could make up for doing poor CPR on David earlier. He could be useful. He could bring back the items that would save David’s life. Nikki’s question wasn’t just a purpose, it was also a plan.

“It will need to be calculated,” Matthew began, warming to the subject. “We’ll need a list of what you need, probably ranked by importance and where it would be in the hospital so we don’t get sidetracked.”

“That’s easy,” Nikki said with a wave of her hand. “Get me a pen and paper.”

“We’ll have to be careful, though, and bring weapons for protection. We have no idea who might already have taken over the hospital. Guarding its supplies. Maybe even selling them or trading for them. We should bring some food in the event that is the case.” Matthew steepled his hands in front of his chin, his mind whirring with the plan, and turned to see his mother still sitting on the edge of the bed.

Silent tears covered Ruth’s face. Her mouth was pinched and tucked in at the corners, as if she were holding her grief inside and it was a difficult task. Both of her hands were cupped around one of David’s, and she was stroking the back of his hand carefully, as if memorizing every wrinkle and liver spot.

Matthew’s next sentence died in his mouth. He took in the sight of his mother and knew that this time would be much different than David’s first heart attack. They weren’t surrounded by people who knew what needed to be done. They didn’t have medical support or beeping machines giving an array of vitals. They didn’t have nurses coming to check in on him. They only had a very limited subset of knowledge that hinged on Nikki, and he knew that underneath it all, his mother was terrified.

She was terrified that David might not make it through the night.

If Matthew was being honest with himself, he was terrified of that thought as well.

How could he lead a mission to Galena’s hospital and leave his mother alone? He wanted to go to the hospital with every fiber of his being. It was his father’s health and life on the line, after all. He wanted to be involved in anything that would help save his life. Yet that burning flame of purpose was snuffed out in the face of his mother’s fear and sadness. He knew he had to be here. For her. She would need someone to be the rock, and that duty fell to him.

Matthew stepped forward and put a hand on his mother’s shoulder. Ruth turned to look up at him with reddened eyes. She didn’t wipe the tears from her face. “I’ll stay here, Mom,” he said.

“Oh,” Ruth said, “would you? Matt, that would mean so much to me.”

Matthew nodded and looked over to Wyatt, who still sat in the accent chair across the room. “Would you be willing to go to Galena in my stead?”

He hated asking. Wyatt had done so much for them already. The Marine had helped retrieve Patton, had even put his life on the line by getting involved in a gunfight with the cartel. He had called on Nikki to help them. Matthew’s family was full of mistakes and accidents, and it seemed like Wyatt had no skin in this game. Matthew expected Wyatt to pause, shake his head, and say he had business elsewhere.

Wyatt did pause. He looked over to Nikki and met her eyes. Matthew wondered how long they had known each other, or if she was just another member of the club who had sought sanctuary there when the world ended. “Yeah, I can go,” he said.

Relief filled Matthew. Nikki smiled slightly at Wyatt and said, “You’ll be going with me, Wyatt. No matter what, I’m heading down there. I need to see what’s available or even see if some of the second-tier meds are there that can work if the stuff I really want isn’t. I need to see the state of the hospital.”

“No one was arguing that,” Wyatt said.

Nikki nodded curtly. “Good. So me and Wyatt. Who else?”

“I’ll go.”

Matthew turned to the door to see Jade leaning against the doorframe. She wore a black tank top, and a lopsided bandage was wound around her arm and shoulder with a splotch of blood seeping through. Her arm seemed clean, though, and somewhat pinkened from scrubbing.

“I’ll go,” Jade repeated. “The Rileys need to stay here in case something happens to David. They all need to be together in case the worst happens. I don’t mind going into Galena to find what David needs. I’m a good shot, as Wyatt can attest. I can be the muscle.”

“Not sure you can shoot anything with that wound,” Wyatt drawled.

Jade grinned. “This old thing? It’s nothing.”

“Who bandaged you?” Nikki demanded, eyeing the wrapping with a critical eye. “A couple of raccoons?”

“A tween and a teenager, actually,” Jade said, shooting a crooked smile at Matthew.

Matthew couldn’t help himself. He smiled back at her.

“They’re good kids,” Jade said, as if realizing she was supposed to be defensive about the raccoon comment.

“I’m sure they are,” Nikki said.

“I mean it, though,” Jade said, looking back at Matthew. “I can go with them to the hospital.”

Matthew had so many things to say to her. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to tell her he was wrong in assuming she was a stone-cold murderer. Instead, Kathleen rushed forward and enveloped Jade in a strong hug. Over Kathleen’s shoulder, Jade made a meep sound and looked at Matthew with disbelief. Matthew shrugged at her, even though the warm feeling in his heart expanded and threatened to make tears prick at his eyes.

“Thank you,” Kathleen said, and if it were possible, she squeezed Jade tighter.

Jade patted her on the back and looked overwhelmed. “Of course. But watch it. I’m an injured woman.”

Kathleen pulled back with a tearful laugh. The two women looked at each other for a moment, and something passed between them. Matthew couldn’t put his finger on what, but he was happy to see that a new connection was forming. Not just a connection. A bond. It seemed the Riley family had added another member to their ranks they didn’t expect, and her name was Jade.

“We should have one more come with us,” Wyatt said. “Four is a good number. Two to defend. Two to search.”

“How about Max?” Jade suggested.

Collectively, they all turned to look at Kathleen’s brother, who stood against the wall, looking very much like he’d like to slink into the shadows. A bruise had formed under his jaw in the shape of a fist, and dark circles hollowed out his eyes. “Oh, I don’t know,” Max said, looking startled. “I’m actually not feeling that great after everything that’s happened.”

Matthew wanted to roll his eyes. Of course, Max was going to play it up that he was injured.

“Car wreck and two beatings take it out of a guy,” Max supplied again, his eyes skipping over all of them. He sounded somewhat panicked.

Kathleen’s mouth tightened, and she looked away as though ashamed of Max’s response. Max coughed, but didn’t say anything else.

Jade’s face was unmasked, disdain written on her features. “Seriously?” she said and cast him a judgmental look.

“Wyatt is way more capable than I am,” Max spluttered. “I don’t know how to shoot my way through packs of bad guys like he can. Three is better than four by a long shot.”

“Oh my god,” Jade said. “Nikki and I can look after ourselves, too, you know. It’s not just about having a big strong man to back us up. Take a moment and think. Some of those cartel members we fought got away. I watched two of them run down the road. You’re the person who would best be able to recognize them if we came face to face with them again. Without you with us, there would be a very good chance of us walking up to them saying, ‘Excuse me, sir, can you direct us to the antibacterial spray?’ before he takes us hostage!”

Max swallowed hard. “I see,” he said.

“I’m glad you see. What I see is that there are two people out there who we shot at and who got away. If they’re hanging around, thinking about getting revenge on us, I wouldn’t be able to pick them out of a crowd. You, on the other hand, are in with the cartel. You’ve seen their faces. Are you telling me that you’d still let us go into Galena without you, now?” Jade put her hands on her hips. Her green eyes glittered with anger.

Max let out a shaky sigh, and he seemed to wither under Jade’s rage. “Of course not. I’ll come with you.”

“That’s right, you will,” Jade said and turned back to Kathleen. Kathleen didn’t say anything and didn’t look up. Max lowered his head and studied the floor.

“We should get a move on,” Wyatt said, “I want to make it back before dark.”

Nikki nodded and beckoned Jade over to her. As she poked and prodded at Jade’s bandage, she started talking to Matthew. “Now, I know I might be telling you things you already know, but in the event that something does happen while we are gone, you need to keep David hydrated. Sprinkle a little water into his mouth and make sure he swallows it. Being dehydrated would be detrimental to his healing, and it’s one of the easiest things to fix. If we can give his body that, then it won’t have to worry about seeking out a water source on top of dealing with a heart attack.”

“Of course,” Matthew said. “We have enough water that we can do that.”

“Don’t give him anything but bottled water,” Nikki cautioned as she unraveled Jade’s bandage and peered at the wound. Jade’s face screwed up in pain. “I don’t trust other water sources. Bottled water should be clean and fresh, if not sanitized. The worst thing that could happen would be if he drank contaminated water and it caused a septic infection. I’m not sure he would recover from that.”

Matthew nodded. Even though Nikki’s instructions were helpful, they also made him feel a bit overwhelmed. All the possible ways he could accidentally make his father sicker flashed through his mind.

Nikki made a satisfied sound as she rebandaged Jade’s shoulder. This time, the material was tight and methodical around Jade’s arm and shoulder. “Now, if for some reason, David stops breathing—”

Ruth made a choked-off sound and Matthew walked over to her, putting his arm around her for support.

“—and you need to do CPR, make sure he is lying on his back. A firm surface would be best. Place the heel of your hand in the center of his chest. I think that’s why you were having difficulties getting deep enough pressure earlier.”

“I know,” Matthew said tightly.

“I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable,” Nikki said. “Just reminding you. You want to interlock your fingers but don’t have your fingers falling down to touch the rib cage. You want to lean forward so your shoulders are directly over his chest and press down about two inches. Release the pressure and let his chest come back up. Rule of thumb is thirty compressions for every two rescue breaths. Should I go over rescue breaths?”

“Yes, please,” Kathleen cut in.

Matthew raised an eyebrow at her.

“What? I don’t know all this,” Kathleen murmured.

“Okay,” Nikki continued. “You want to tilt his head back so that his neck is somewhat lean and long. But not so much that its overextended. Natural. You want to pinch his nostrils closed with one hand that rests on the forehead while the other tilts his mouth open at the chin. Take a normal breath—you don’t need to gasp or fill your lungs huge or anything—and put your mouth over his and blow until you see his chest rise. You want to check and see if his chest is falling and that he’s not breathing on his own before doing it again. After two breaths, repeat the cycle.”

“Thank you,” Kathleen said quietly.

“Of course,” Nikki said, and patted Jade on the back. “Looks like you’ll live to fight another day, soldier.”

Jade grinned. “That’s what I like to hear. Let me grab my supplies, and I’ll meet you out front.”

Nikki nodded in agreement and Wyatt stood. Max slunk out of the room behind them.

“Good luck,” Matthew said just before they disappeared from his line of sight. “And thank you.”

Alone with his mother and wife, he let out a deep breath and saw that the women were watching him, as if waiting for him to give them instructions. Matthew’s mind began to whirl with everything that had happened. If felt as though they’d hardly gotten their breath back before another catastrophe was forcing them to re-enter the dangerous world. He put a hand on his forehead and pushed back the hair that had stuck to his skin. The one thing that he kept coming back to was the bottled water.

“We don’t have much bottled water left, do we?” he asked.

“We have enough,” Kathleen said. “We should keep it in reserve for David, though. Like Nikki said, we don’t want him to get sick by drinking something else.”

“That means we need water for the rest of us. There’s that river that runs close to Galena.”

“You’re not going on an expedition alone, Matt,” Kathleen said, seeming to cut him off at the pass. “You heard what Jade said. We should stay around here to be with David.” She indicated Ruth, who had gone back to holding David’s hand and watching her husband with a look of sorrow on her face.

She was right. Of course she was right. “Okay,” Matthew said, “maybe I can go and search the property for that well that Wyatt mentioned.”

“A well?” Kathleen asked.

“When I first met Wyatt, he wanted to trade with us so that he and the gun club could have access to a well on the hotel’s property,” Matthew explained. “He said it was run-down when he was small, but that he definitely remembers it being on our land.”

“I didn’t even know that,” Kathleen said. “What else don’t we know?”

“Makes me feel stupid, that’s for sure,” Matthew finally admitted. “A stranger knew more about our property than we did.”

“It wasn’t something we would be looking for,” Kathleen said softly. “We wouldn’t have known.”

“If I can find it and it’s functional, we could get water out of it. Boil it if we have to, at first, but at least then we would know if we had water close by or not. Then we could save all the bottled water for Dad.”

“It’s a start,” Kathleen said and gave him an encouraging smile.

“Will the two of you be okay watching over him?” Matthew asked, refusing to look at the limp figure in the bed. “I want to see what I can find.”

“Of course,” Kathleen said and pulled the accent chair closer to the bed for her to sit on. “Just come back soon, okay?”

“I will,” Matthew said and headed for the door. He took one last look at the shell of the man David used to be, before his resolve hardened and he left the room.

5

Once outside, Matthew took in a couple of deep breaths of the fresh mountain air and tried to expel the dread pitting his stomach. Intrusive thoughts threatened to overwhelm him. He couldn’t focus on the negative. Focusing instead on the vista of jagged peaks in the distance, Matthew counted his blessings.

The first blessing was that his father was still alive. Unconscious, yes, but breathing. All thanks to Nikki. The second blessing was that he had a group of trusted friends and family, people who were willing to risk their lives going into Galena to collect medical supplies. All thanks to Jade and Wyatt. The third blessing was that the hotel had enough bottled water to keep David hydrated through these hard times. But that blessing would soon run out.

But that wouldn’t matter if Matthew had anything to say about it. Because thanks to Matthew, he was going to figure that problem out and solve it. He would find the well that was on the property. Once he did that, their limited water resources would free up, allowing him to conserve all the bottled water for his father. If he didn’t do this, then David would be in even more danger as their supplies dwindled. Now more than ever, Matthew needed to find the well.

But where to start looking? Matthew’s gaze eased away from the mountains to survey the land spreading out before him. He must have walked the property a hundred times since returning to the River Rock Hotel, and he’d never seen anything resembling a well. He had no idea where to start, or what the well might even look like.

Walking the property again seemed like a waste of time. If he hadn’t found the well before now, he doubted he would with one more lap. Perhaps he could unearth the blueprints of the hotel and search for some indication of where it might be. Matthew’s mouth hardened into a tight line. No. He couldn’t keep spinning his wheels on actions that had been done before. He couldn’t be as mule-headed as he’d been before, and think he could do everything all on his own. This time, he would try to find help.

Wyatt said he was a long-time resident of Galena. That he’d played on the hotel’s property when he was small. If Wyatt remembered the well, Matthew was positive that other Galena natives would, too. And where would they be? The gun club.

With a nod of self-assertion, Matthew looked up at the sky and saw there was still daylight enough for him to walk to the club for advice and make it back to the hotel again. Even though his feet were beginning to ache and his legs wished for a rest, Matthew knew he had no time for such things. His father’s life hung in the balance, and if finding a well was the solution, then so be it.

Matthew had a plan, and he headed off the property and back down the mountain road.

By the time he made it to the gun club, the ache in his feet had upgraded to a throb. In the back of his mind, Matthew wondered what would happen when he finally wore through his boots, and hoped that it would take him many years before he had to face that obstacle. Gravel crunched under his feet as he walked up to the long rectangular building. In the daylight, it had a brownish-yellow exterior with shrubs and flower beds that looked like they needed a good weeding. Some of the beds had been turned over, and it looked like plants had been freshly planted in the rich soil. A garden, he figured.

A rickety ladder was propped up against the side where it looked as if someone had recently been cleaning out the gutters. Long boards of plywood were on the ground next to a hammer, and it appeared as if someone was reinforcing the weak spots in the shingles and strengthening the windows. Other tools were on the dirt and grass, as if the laborer had stopped their hard work for a lunch break and would be returning soon.

No doubt about it. The members were reinforcing the gun club much as the Rileys had done the hotel.

As Matthew approached the front door, he hesitated. He honestly had no idea what to expect from the gun club. Had Wyatt told the members about the Rileys and their problems? Was the gun club more of a safe house or a waystation for members to meet up before going off to their own homes and shelters? He realized he’d never taken much time to speak with Wyatt about the club in general, and made a vow to do better in the future. If these people were going to become his allies, he should do the proper thing and let them know they could borrow a cup of sugar if they needed to. Maybe he’d bake them a cake or have them over for lunch. Something to show his good intentions, even though it would look much different in this post-apocalyptic world. At this point, a cup of sugar was a luxury.

He was raising a hand to knock on the door when a cautious voice called out to him. “Can I help you?”

Matthew turned to see a man, most likely in his thirties, with sandy blonde hair and wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. The man wore a jean jacket and dirt-covered boots. He held a small basket that looked to be full of boxes of mismatched screws and nails.

“Nice to meet you,” Matthew said, turning his smile up to its full wattage. “I’m Matthew Riley from the River Rock Hotel just up the mountain.”

“Oh, right,” the man said, eyeing Matthew up and down and barely returning the smile. “Wyatt told us a little about you. He here?”

“No,” Matthew said. “He’s gone into Galena to see if he can get some medical supplies. My father was hurt, unfortunately.”

“Sorry to hear it,” the man said.

Matthew waited for the guy to give out his name, but instead they ended up staring at each other. Matthew began to feel uneasy, but more in the way that he might have interrupted a socially awkward person, rather than feeling he was being threatened. He decided to take a chance and see what happened. “Wyatt and I talked about a well being on the hotel’s property,” Matthew said. “I’m looking to see if someone here might have an idea of where to find it. Maybe there’s a long-time Galena resident around I could talk to?”

“Hmm,” the young man huffed and walked up to the door. He rapped on it with a series of taps, and after a moment, the sound of bolts being drawn back filled Matthew’s ears. The man pushed open the newly unlocked door and looked at Matthew. “My name is Shawn,” he said. “Let’s go inside and talk about that well.”

“I’d like that,” Matthew said as he followed Shawn inside the gun club.

As soon as they entered, a young teenager standing at the door pushed it closed and re-bolted the locks. He clambered back on a chair next to the door and opened up a book, glancing out the window every now and then to see if anyone was coming up the lane. A sentinel. Good idea.

Matthew blinked in the dark interior of the club. It looked like a recreation area, with one big room full of sleeping bags, mounds of blankets, and sheets strung between them as if to create some semblance of privacy. Tables had been pushed to one side where old board games like Scrabble and Pictionary were stacked next to a couple of decks of cards. Next to them was a variety of tools—scissors, clippers, screwdrivers, and a water flask with plastic glasses next to it. A communal area, Matthew figured, for workers to take a break both physically and mentally.

The boarded-up windows gave the room a darkened atmosphere, and Matthew realized that the gun club wasn’t meant to house lots of people. The hotel had far more space than this, yet these members had done their best to make it as homey as possible. They had optimized their limited space. He couldn’t believe how far the gun club had come in transforming the club into a place where people could eat and sleep.

“This way,” Shawn said, motioning him away from the main room and down a hallway. They passed a set of bathrooms and a series of other smaller rooms—they might have once been used as classrooms, or possibly spaces for gun safety demonstrations. Matthew peeked through the window of one and saw men and women mending clothes on a long table.

“How many people live here?” Matthew asked as Shawn gestured for him to follow him farther down the hallway. Shawn led him to another room that looked to be an office.

Shawn shrugged and pushed open the door. Inside, an older man with a head full of curly gray hair and a beard to match glanced up from whatever he was studying at the roll-top desk. Papers and thick rolls of maps covered a table pushed to the middle of the room. A corkboard was hung on the far wall and had a receipt of dues tacked to it. An antique firearm was mounted on the opposite wall, and Matthew took a moment to admire the patina on the gold plating, along with the worn gleam of the wooden stock.

“This is Marcus,” Shawn said. “Marcus, this is Matthew. From the hotel.”

Marcus glanced between them. “Ah,” he said in a rough voice. “Nice to meet you.”

Matthew tried not to shift back and forth with discomfort. Instead, he held his hand out for a shake. Marcus took it without question, and Matthew was somehow comforted to find his handshake strong and firm. “I don’t want to take up a lot of your time,” Matthew said, “but Wyatt mentioned that there was a well on the River Rock Hotel’s property, and I’m trying to find out where it might be. I wondered if anyone here might have a memory of the place or perhaps be able to help me locate it.”

Marcus and Shawn exchanged looks. “None of us would remember where it might be,” Marcus said slowly. “We weren’t as rebellious as Wyatt when we were young. Didn’t have access to the place like he did.”

“I see,” Matthew said, trying to hide his disappointment. “Do you have any idea how I could locate it?”

Marcus shifted up from the desk and placed his hands over his stomach. “Well, best thing to do is approach it like you want to dig a well. The Galena-Platteville aquifer is a fairly good one. Illinois has somewhat of an uneven water distribution system because of the soil and sand, but we’re on a pretty good place for well water. Could pull more than seventy gallons per minute to wells around it, from what I know.”

Matthew stared at Marcus as he tried to hold back a sudden wash of irritation. He didn’t need to know if the aquifer was sandstone or the amount pulled from it. He only needed to know if he could feasibly access it. He couldn’t figure out why Marcus and Shawn were giving him the runaround. He got the feeling they didn’t want him here, but didn’t want to be rude about shooing him away. So instead, they would overwhelm him with information until he gave up.

“That’s all great information,” Matthew said slowly. “So, if I had a well there is a good chance it has water, even if it might be run-down?” He dangled the notion in front of the two men like he would candy in front of a temperamental toddler. He hoped that they would see he had water to bargain with and become more open in their conversation.

Shawn moved to sit in one of the rickety metal chairs next to the table. Plush stuffing peeked out of the cracks in the vinyl. “Suppose so,” Shawn said, making Matthew disappointed he didn’t take the bait. “If it wasn’t full of water, you could dig a bit and you’d probably hit something.”

“Would it be hard to find on the land?” Matthew asked.

Marcus and Shawn paused for a moment, giving each other another look.

Matthew took a deep breath and decided he had had enough of the awkward polite talk. He might as well come out and ask what was giving the other two gun club members the spooks about him and the well in general. “I hope I haven’t offended either of you in any way,” Matthew started. “It seems as if you don’t want to admit to knowing anything about the aquifer or the well. Why is that?”

Shawn heaved a sigh and pushed his glasses up his nose. “Well, I suppose we aren’t being very forthcoming. Before Wyatt spoke with you, he had plans to find the well on his own. We’re running out of fresh water, and it’s become somewhat of an issue for everyone living here. But, after investigating your property, Wyatt told us that you and your family would become a threat to us if we happened to go on your land without permission. He feared you wouldn’t be kind to us if we approached you at all. We didn’t want that worry to become a reality.”

“You can trust me,” Matthew said quickly. “We would never hurt you or any members of the gun club.”

“Wyatt says a rogue bullet coming at him says different.”

Matthew swallowed hard, remembering when Jade had given them lessons. He’d overreacted, grabbing a gun and shooting blindly into the woods, when he thought someone was watching them. “I wasn’t in a good headspace for a while, I will admit,” Matthew said. “Neither was my wife or even some of the other members of my family. After everything that’s happened, we’ve seen a lot of the ugly come out in people. We’ve been betrayed by strangers and even people we thought we could trust. But we managed to overcome that. I’m glad Wyatt approached us. He’s been a great ally. I can only hope that we can be just as helpful and trustworthy to you as he has been to us. I want both of our families and friends to thrive in this new world, and I think finding the well is the first place to start. Wyatt has helped me enough that I’d be happy to discuss sharing the water between my family and the members of the gun club.”

A small smile played across Marcus’s lips, and he nodded his head in acceptance. Shawn still looked blankly at Matthew, but Matthew sensed that the bulk of his hostility toward him had diminished. Shawn’s shoulders relaxed as he pushed his glasses up again. Then he stood up and grabbed a folded-up map that had been tacked to the corkboard next to the dues. Unfolding it, he laid the map out on the table and motioned for Matthew to come closer. Matthew took a step forward and peered at a map of Galena.

“There’s a couple of good places where the well might be,” Shawn said, as his finger made a circle around one area of the map. “This is roughly where your land is. Most likely, the well would be close to the hotel. Wyatt said he hadn’t seen any tracks or paths from people hauling water to and fro anywhere. Is that right?” He looked at Matthew.

“Correct,” Matthew said. “I haven’t seen anything like that.”

“Okay,” Shawn continued. “If you haven’t found it yet, then I’d guess the well is further away from the hotel, most likely due to the groundwater flow direction. You want your well to be away from any latrine or sewage so you avoid contamination. Groundwater tends to flow in the direction the ground slopes, so probably they positioned the well in the back of the hotel since they settled the building to face the mountain road that heads down the mountain. Make sense?”

“No one wants to spend money on a nice hotel and watch workers huff and puff hauling water out their front window,” Marcus murmured and adjusted his blue ballcap on his head. “Breaks the fantasy of being on vacation, doesn’t it?”

Matthew nodded. It honestly did make sense. Things he’d never considered suddenly had incredible purpose—slope, ground level, the direction the hotel faced, the marketing aspects that the first architects considered when figuring out where to begin constructing the building.

“Only bad thing is that if you haven’t found it by now, there might be a chance someone had to dig a well deep enough to hit the deep water table,” Marcus added. “Then we might be in trouble. If the ground is malleable, like silt or sand, that means it will be easy to bring the water back up. But if we’re looking at hard-packed clay, there is a good chance someone drilled the well. If it’s been covered back up by debris or has fallen in on itself, we won’t be able to get it working again manually.”

“Not unless we all want to break our backs,” Shawn said.

“Or our shovels,” Marcus added.

“But a shallow well means it might be easily contaminated,” Marcus added. “So the position of the well would definitely be up and away from any latrine or sewage lines. Most likely in the back of the hotel, far from any other sources of contamination from even deer, rabbits, or other wildlife. Places where wildlife would have no reason to hang out and create problems.”

Matthew nodded again, understanding. “This is very helpful,” he said. “It lets me focus on a certain area rather than comb the whole property over and over again.”

Marcus and Shawn had another pause where they glanced at each other as if speaking without words. “Well,” Marcus drawled, “I suppose we could come and help you. Three pairs of eyes are better than one.”

“Wouldn’t mind walking the property and helping out,” Shawn said, pushing his glasses up his nose again.

“That would be amazing,” Matthew said, unbelievably relieved. “I wouldn’t really know what to look for. Wyatt mentioned the well might be severely damaged, and I haven’t seen it up until now.”

“No problem,” Shawn said, taking his glasses off and cleaning them on his plaid shirt. “Let’s go.”

* * *

In a way, it was strange being back on his property with Shawn and Marcus, who surveyed the land with new, critical eyes. Both men had been quiet and withdrawn on their walk back up to the hotel, even though Matthew figured he was still in their good graces. They seemed to simply be quiet-natured men. Somehow, he had managed to prove himself to them. He vowed he would try to help the members of the gun club as much as possible and as soon as he could. They had already proved invaluable to him in helping his family. Marcus had insisted that they survey the front of the property before canvassing the back, despite his earlier assertions. He argued that the front property was so wide, no latrine contamination would reach certain edges of the property, despite the slope. Shawn scoffed and called Marcus an idiot in a fond voice, but didn’t fight him very hard.

“See?” Shawn said, as the three of them began to walk toward the back of the hotel. “I bet you ten bucks it’s going to be in the back of the hotel on the right of the property line.”

“Too far,” Marcus said. “That would be too far. Who wants to haul water that far?”

Matthew listened to their bickering with fascination. He knew little to nothing about wells in general, and understanding the intricacies of where a well might be—and the variety of differences in opinions between the men—made him realize there could be a lot of things he’d missed around the property.

Marcus made a light coughing noise and adjusted his ball cap. Shawn pointed to the clearing around the edge of the property line, past the garden they had begun to build. “It’s gotta be around there,” he said.

But there was nothing there.

Shawn bit his lip in frustration as they picked their way over to the next site: a section of the grounds that was still on the property, but closer to a patch of dead and fallen trees and brambles. The terrain was awkward to navigate, full of boulders and uneven ground.

“It might make sense if it was over there,” Shawn mused, walking around a section of dirt clods.

“But not easy,” Marcus added. “The ground water must flow a specific way for it to be here.”

“Would that be a bad thing?” Matthew asked.

Marcus shrugged. “Would just mean that digging another well or a different well might be more complicated if it came to it,” he said.

Matthew watched as Shawn meandered over to a fallen tree. It had been a juvenile, judging by the spindly branches and the slender trunk, and it must have fallen a while back, given the brittle state of the bark. Scraggly bushes had begun to sprout underneath it. Parts of the trunk had begun to decay into mulch. Shawn bent over and pushed part of the trunk over. It landed with a thump on the ground, followed by a puff of sawdust and the skittering of small bugs.

Underneath it, there appeared to be a gray concrete cap.

Matthew’s heart stuttered in his chest as he followed Shawn to the tree and began his own inspection. He bent down and tried to wipe away the dirt and debris that covered it. “It was hidden underneath this tree,” he said, sounding amazed.

“That tree must have fallen a long time ago,” Shawn said, breaking one of the branches with his foot. “It’s far enough away from the hotel that it was probably considered an unnecessary cost to move it, and no one used the well anyway. Funny how that happens.”

“Yeah.” Matthew hooked his fingers around the cap’s edge. “Can we pull the cap up?”

In response, Marcus crouched next to the cap and with Shawn in position, they lifted and moved the cap off and to the side. Matthew peered down into the dark hole and got a whiff of undisturbed dirt and a slight hint of water. The sides looked pockmarked with roots and growth. One section appeared to be leaning to the side, possibly on the verge of collapse. He let out a curse. “It looks bad,” he said. When he looked up, he watched Marcus and Shawn exchange glances again. That glance that Matthew was beginning to learn meant they didn’t want to tell him something.

“Yeah, it doesn’t look good,” Marcus finally conceded. “I don’t know much about restoration, but the interior integrity looks iffy. I wouldn’t want to go down there.”

“Is there any water down there?” Matthew asked.

Shawn picked up a rock and dropped it into the well. They waited for a moment and then heard the sound of it bouncing off of something hard. No plonk of water.

Matthew sat back on his heels. What do I do now? “Are there any other options left to us to get fresh water? I mean, is there a river nearby we could draw from instead?”

Shawn shook his head. “I mean, there is, but it’s a long walk to gather water every day, and getting enough back up the mountain for washing, cleaning, and drinking would become tedious. That’s not to mention what happens when the beds dry up in summer or if they freeze over in winter. Honestly, the well is the best solution.”

“What about other smaller creeks?” Matthew asked, feeling hope slip away from him.

“Same deal,” Shawn said. “Only thing is they probably dry up faster mid-summer and freeze quicker in the winter.”

“Don’t be so negative,” Marcus cut in. “We could always start to map out the creeks. Even if one dries up, there might be another one that lasts longer or has more winter runoff. It’s a matter of figuring out what’s available and when it is available. Only thing is that it does take quite a long time to start to know the patterns of the land like that, which could change in the event of a drought or a wet season. Not much can be done about that, though. We need water. We can’t just wave a hand and hope the well fixes itself.”

“But it wouldn’t be helpful in the event of an emergency,” Matthew said, knowing he sounded faint. “We might be able to save as much water as we could, and start to develop a reserve, but it would be difficult if we needed water in a hurry.”

“Or if say, snow in the winter kept you from getting it for that day or week,” Marcus said.

Shawn scoffed. “You’d just melt the snow and boil it.”

“What if your wood is too wet and you can’t make a fire?” Marcus shot back.

“That’s just...Marcus, you’re being difficult.”

“Difficult, huh? I know I am, but at least I’m prepared. You never know what life is going to throw at you.”

“So how do we restore this well?” Matthew asked, knowing he sounded desperate. “It’s our best option, isn’t it?”

Marcus heaved a great sigh. “Yeah, Riley. I hate to say it, but it is.”

“Then that’s what we have to do,” Matthew said. For my dad, he thought. Anything.

6

Marcus looked over the side of the well and tugged at his curly beard, deep in thought. Matthew watched him like a hawk, wondering what he would say next. If restoring the well was the best solution, then he wanted to start fixing it right away.

Yet he knew he would need help. He couldn’t do such a thing on his own. And that help depended on approval and commitment from Marcus and Shawn.

Matthew followed Marcus’s line of sight down into the well. Even though it appeared that one side of the wall dipped inward as if it might be collapsing, that didn’t exactly mean it was an unsolvable problem. Even though they’d thrown a rock into the darkness and heard no plonk of water, that didn’t mean there wasn’t water—maybe they’d simply had bad luck and their rock had landed in a spot that had dried up. The well seemed to look back at him, as if waiting for him to weigh his options and make a decision.

But Matthew’s decisions had been made for him since David had collapsed.

“I can’t see much else,” Marcus admitted slowly, as if the words were molasses. “It’s a deep one, I can tell you that. There’s a lot of muck growing on the sides. It looks like a couple of stones have fallen out of their placement just along there.” He pointed into the darkness, and Matthew noticed a gap in the stonework. “Which most likely means the stones fell to the bottom. Could be preventing the water from filling the well up.”

“Could the well be functional, though, despite the integrity of the architecture?” Matthew asked. “I mean, will the well still draw up water, despite all the issues?”

Marcus shrugged in that way of his that meant he wasn’t sure how to answer. “Might be. There’s no guarantee that the well is functional. There’s a chance it could have dried up, but maybe the stones and muck that have fallen in on it are covering up the water. It could have been capped because the water wasn’t safe to drink, too.”

Matthew stood up straight and looked at the brambles and woods that had begun to take over this area of the property. What other secrets did the land hold that might have been concealed because the previous owners thought it wasn’t necessary to fix or rebuild? The fact of the matter was that they could debate all day whether there was water at the bottom of the well, but there was only one way to know for sure.

“I’ll be right back,” Matthew said as he turned and began to run toward the hotel. “Just wait here for a minute!” he shouted over his shoulder. Matthew knew he had to convince them beyond a shadow of a doubt that the well was worth the risk of restoration.

He bolted toward the cellar that they had discovered. Quickly he opened the doors and descended the stairs, finding a long length of rope hanging from a hook on the wall. He grabbed the heavy coils, looped them over his shoulder so they wound under his armpit, and climbed back up. The smell of dusty earth made him sneeze, but hope filled him to the brim. Not just hope. Determination. He would stop at nothing to make sure they had water on this property. For his family, yes, but also for his father.

He jogged back to the well site and saw Marcus pointing at the jagged stones as Shawn walked around the other side and peered down into the well again. Inspecting it. He picked at the rim of the well as if deciding how fast the rocks would crumble around him. Shawn looked up when he caught sight of Matthew and did a little wave.

“The integrity is probably shot,” Marcus said as Matthew sidled up beside him, breathing heavily. “I mean, based on the strength of these stones and how it looks unsteady halfway down, I think it’s a lost cause.”

“You think, but we don’t know that for certain,” Matthew said, slinging the rope off his shoulder. “We need a better look.”

“Yeah, that would be the best,” Marcus grudgingly admitted. “Need to find a couple of flashlights, a ladder, shovels, maybe get a couple of men to peer inside—”

Matthew uncoiled the rope and held up one end of it. “Well, you’ve got a man and a rope. Only thing we’re missing is the flashlight. And maybe the ladder.”

Marcus and Shawn stared at him for a long moment. “What the hell are you thinking?” Shawn blurted out.

“We need a better look,” Matthew said as if it was clear as day. He started to wrap the rope around the trunk lying next to the well. Despite the age, the rope seemed to hold, and he knew the trunk would support his weight, especially if it took the three of them to move it in the first place. “It’s my well, so it only makes sense that I take the risk of going down there. We don’t have time to wait for other people to haul tools up here and project-manage this thing. It’s time to take the plunge.”

“You’re out of your mind,” Marcus said, taking his ball cap off and running his fingers through his wild gray hair.

“Not at all,” Matthew said. He tied the rope securely around the trunk and threw the other end of it into the well. “I can’t be any plainer. We need to assess the damage before we make the decision to move forward with the restoration. I want to know for certain if this well is completely shot or if there’s a chance we can spend our time and resources restoring it. This is the only way. It’s better to know now, rather than waste time looking for alternatives. And it’s better that I take that risk, than anyone at the gun club doing it in my stead.”

He climbed over the broken stones even as the protests from Marcus and Shawn filled his ears. He began to work his way down the side of the well with hands and feet. He found perches in the stone, and his fingers around the rope began to ache as he worked his way down the interior of the well. Slowly, he lowered himself, taking note of the broken gap that Marcus had pointed out, along with probing the softer spots where the dirt had begun to crumble. It filled his palms like flour, sprinkling down over his arms and coating his boots. The rest of the dust fell into the darkness of the well.

His foot dug into its next perch, finding stability. He began to lower himself another step when his stable foot suddenly slipped. The earth began to give. With a muted cry, he felt the stone tumble out from under his foot, leaving his other foot scrambling for purchase. His hands slipped, making his whole body weight fall on his grip around the rope. Pain seared his palms as he began to slide down, unable to get a better grip on the rough weave. He knew he’d most likely scrape off the first layer of skin and couldn’t hold on any more. His hands let go of the rope and he suddenly swung into open air, without any grip or ability to stop his fall.

He let out a shout as terror overtook him and darkness filled his vision. Suddenly, he hit the ground with a thump. He wheezed for breath, feeling as if all the rocks at the bottom of the well had dug into his spine and broken his back. He rolled over on his side. At least the coolness of the stones felt good against his burned palms. The rope swung in front of him, and the sunlight streaming down seemed to illuminate it. A sprinkle of something wet landed on his forehead and he palmed at it, terrified that he’d split his head open.

It smelled of water. With a gasp, he peered upwards, but it was too dark to see the place where he’d begun to fall. He heard water trickling onto the ground, allowing him the slightest bit of hope and relief. Matthew grinned. The piled rocks and dirt had probably clogged the aquifer from rising and filling the space, but beneath all the muck and dirt down here, with a bit of work, he was certain there was still a chance for water to revive the well again.

“Are you okay?” Shawn’s panicked voice came down the well.

“I’m here!” he shouted back up at them. “I’m okay!”

He grabbed the rope and wiggled it, hoping that the motion would travel up and show Marcus and Shawn that he was on his feet and hadn’t broken his neck. Their curses reached his ears and made him grin wider. Crazy Matthew of the River Rock Hotel. Crazy, lucky son of a gun.

Matthew held the rope taut and began to climb it. It was easier going up than down, even with each movement of the rope burning the already-raw skin of his palms. When he finally climbed over the edge of the well, he was met by Shawn and Marcus cussing him out once more.

“Do you have a death wish?” Shawn demanded. “You crazy idiot, were you hoping to die today?”

“Jump into a well with nothing but a rope tied to a tree,” Marcus muttered. “What a fool.”

Matthew sat on the edge of the well, feeling the burn of exertion in his arms. “I know you think I’m an idiot,” he said, “and I’m sorry for scaring the two of you. But the well isn’t dead. There’s water down there. I felt it fall on me. We can make this whole again, can’t we? We can do the repairs.”

“You didn’t have to risk your life to find that out,” Marcus said. “And it doesn’t mean that the well is fully restorable just because you felt water fall on you. There’s more to it than that. We need to check the inner walls, ensure that it won’t collapse. Finding out that this well had a few drops of water in it doesn’t mean much and it definitely wasn’t worth that risk.”

“I did have to take the risk,” Matthew said. “If we’d just walked away from the well, it would have rotted and turned sour on us. We would have been forced to find some other way. Now, this must mean that we can get water, right? I know I’m no expert, but it has to be good news that there is water at all. Fresh water. Saves us from mapping out creeks and rivers that may or may not be dried up, doesn’t it? Saves us from worrying about wet timber for fire and boiling snow.”

Shawn shook his head. “Still can’t be jumping into wells like that,” he said. “What would have happened if you were actually hurt in there? You can’t take wild risks like that with the world like it is now.”

Matthew held up his hands in submission. “I know, I’ll be more careful in the future.”

Marcus shook his head. “If you can’t separate what’s happening in here”—he tapped his head—“from here”—he tapped his heart—“you’ll end up doing more stupid stunts like that. I get that your father is ill—”

“Don’t,” Matthew said, his voice tight.

“We were at the gun club when Nikki left,” Shawn said, shifting in discomfort. “Just...be careful, okay?”

“I will. I promise.” Matthew took a deep breath to center himself and knew he had to not let his hopes cloud his reason. He had been incredibly stupid to go into the well, especially since he didn’t know much about them to begin with. Still, he couldn’t let the new discovery, and its implications, go. “But you do know what this means, don’t you? It means this is our best option, even if the repairs will be risky. I can bring down my shovels, and try to find some putty to help stabilize the rocks. We’ll probably need a ladder and a better way to secure the rope—”

“Now hang on,” Marcus said. “We are not repairing the well right now.”

“Why not?” Matthew demanded. Why were these two being such stick-in-the-muds? Yes, Matthew had taken a risk, but that risk had paid off. They said the gun club was running out of fresh water as it was. They should be jumping at the chance to make the well viable again. Matthew didn’t understand their hesitation.

“I want to get Wyatt’s opinion on it,” Marcus said, and Shawn nodded in agreement, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses up his nose.

“Is Wyatt some kind of well-restoration expert?” Matthew asked, sarcasm lacing his words. “I know the man can do just about everything, but is this in his repertoire of skills?”

“We want to get his opinion before we head into any project this massive,” Shawn clarified. “This is going to take a lot of collaboration and effort. Lots of manpower. Lots of time, energy, and resources. I know you’re eager and you’ve said you’d share with us, but we need to have Wyatt here to solidify all of that. He’s been, I guess, our leader. I know we would all want his opinion before we end up yanking everyone from the gun club up here.”

Irritation filled Matthew. He got it, he did. They wanted to trust him, but they weren’t sure if they should. They wanted Wyatt to make that final decision before they barreled into a project of this scale. But at the same time, Matthew didn’t know how he could be more trustworthy for them. How could he show them that he could be one of the leaders that they could turn to and accept in their time of need?

What would happen if Wyatt didn’t come back from Galena?

Matthew pushed those terrible thoughts away. Wyatt would return from his trip with medical supplies to help David. Wyatt would no doubt be overjoyed that Matthew had found the well. Then things would be okay. They would.

He just had to do the hardest thing in the whole world. Matthew Riley had to wait.

7

For as long as Jade could remember, she had hated dark buildings. It was a secret fear that stemmed from her childhood. From nights when she would come home to her mother’s ire that Jade couldn’t help but poke and prod at. But, inevitably, her mother’s ire would turn to rage, which in turn infuriated Jade, until they would be screaming at each other, the intensity increasing with the setting sun. Then they would be left with a darkened, silent home where that fury deepened like termite-rot flavored with bitterness and disappointment.

Bluntly, Jade hated darkened buildings because she could always feel that resentment embedded in the darkness. It followed her everywhere she went. It raised its head at dusk. She knew it was a useless fear, but it was hers all the same.

She didn’t like the look of Galena’s hospital.

The windows in the front had been broken and smashed in. The sliding entrance doors had been shattered, with one on a battered hinge that creaked inwards at a strange angle. Yellow lines on the pavement directed them to the emergency room entrance for ambulances, while another yellow arrow pointed them further through the hospital’s front doors. Paper, medical charts, and X-ray results covered the concrete floor, as if they’d escaped from a file cabinet and no one had bothered to pick them back up.

Jade took in a deep breath and glanced at Max standing beside her. It was obvious he didn’t feel well. On the other side of him, Nikki surveyed the seemingly abandoned hospital with her eyebrows drawn together. Concern deepened the lines around her eyes and mouth. In her other hand, Nikki clutched a piece of hotel stationery taken from one of the River Rock Hotel’s rooms. She’d written down a list of medical supplies in blue pen.

“Here’s what we should look for,” Nikki said, opening the list and smoothing out the edges where she’d crumpled it.

Jade’s mind went blank as Nikki rattled off a series of complicated words. She couldn’t even imagine what they were. She knew IVs, but the list of medicines was pretty much just mush to her ears. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt dumb in familiar company. Wouldn’t be the last. She patted the butt of the handgun with affection. There would be medics and math teachers and marketing professionals, but Jade had found her purpose in being the muscle. She was good with a gun. That was all that mattered these days.

“Why don’t you read that list when we get inside?” Wyatt suggested with a hint of a drawl. “I can’t remember the first thing on that list, Nik.”

Nikki gave him a side-eye of annoyance. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll tell you what to look for when we reach certain areas.”

“Sounds good to me,” Max said, his eyes skirting around the hospital as if cartel members might jump out at him at any moment.

Jade nudged him with her elbow. What a scaredy cat. “Don’t look so worried,” she told him.

He flashed her a sick glance, but didn’t have the chance to respond. Nikki motioned them forward and they walked through the front doors of the hospital.

Inside, it had that dim and dark quality of a place left alone for a long time, something that was at odds with Jade’s impression of hospitals and how they were usually lit to the brim with electricity. Any other time, overhead industrial lights would shine 24/7. Bedside lamps would be on even in broad daylight. But now, the lobby was deserted. No chairs, couches, tables, or even a magazine could be seen. She could make out where the furniture used to be by the indentations in the carpets. Either someone had taken the chairs for comfort or maybe they’d been used for firewood. Manila folders full of records covered the floor. Front desk computers had been toppled over and left hanging over the sides by their electric plug-ins, or had been crushed on the ground. Technology. Completely useless now, and everyone knew it. Potted plants were more important than the screens and motherboards and servers now.

Glass crunched under her feet. She eased further into the hospital and felt that familiar fear of the dark tighten inside of her. She ignored it. A darkened building couldn’t hurt her. It was just the people waiting inside who would.

Nikki studied the place as if it were a home she’d come back to see ransacked. Worry crossed her face again, and she pointed to the right. “The pharmacy should be around the corner down the hallway. We want to look for medicines there, and then we’ll go to the Central Supply for everything else.”

“What’s the Central Supply?” Max whispered to Jade.

Jade shrugged. “Think it through, Max. I’d hazard a guess and say a central place where supplies are at,” she said and winced at the cruel edge in her tone.

“You got that right,” Nikki said as she began to head down the hallway. “But more importantly, it’s where supplies are either autoclaved and ready to be used again, or packaged for one-time use. We don’t just want to pick up any old scalpel or bed pan. We want things that have been sterilized so we’re not carrying any unknown germs back from the hospital.”

“Like a staph infection?” Max asked, sounding horrified.

“Sure,” Nikki said.

“There you go,” Jade said to Max. “Now you have your answer.”

“Good thing you know all this stuff,” Max whispered solemnly.

“Who, me?” Jade asked, feeling surprised but knowing she’d said her words sarcastically.

Max shook his head as if he was done talking, and they picked their way after Nikki.

As soon as Nikki reached the pharmacy, she walked behind the counter and began rifling through the shelves. Shelves that should’ve been filled to the gills with pill bottles, but instead were barren and empty. Jade watched as Nikki picked up a couple of bottles that had fallen to the floor, making Jade flash back to when she’d been at the smaller pharmacy off some exit with David and Matthew, before everything had gone wrong. They’d looted medicines there, too, and hadn’t found much worth keeping.

Nikki stuffed the pill bottles in her satchel, though, and quickly moved toward some rows of empty shelves. She made a sound of frustration as she picked through the shelves, pulling out a couple of IV solution bags.

“What are those?” Max whispered into the quiet.

“Saline,” Nikki said shortly, stuffing the liquid-filled bags into her satchel. “They will be helpful in case we need to combat dehydration later.” She rooted around a top shelf just a touch too high for her and grabbed what looked like a couple of looped tubes tied nicely with Velcro. “So we can make our own bags or lines if we need to,” she said, as she stuffed those into the bag, along with some empty but clear bags similar to the filled IV ones.

Seeming satisfied, Nikki led them away from the pharmacy and down the hallway to another big room with CENTRAL SUPPLY in white block lettering on the door. This new door opened easily, showing more rows upon rows of empty shelving. Max peered at some of the shelves and picked up a handful of white packaged bandages. “Are these useful?” he asked, and Jade rolled her eyes. Duh.

“Yes,” Nikki said, walking over to him and opening her satchel. Max dropped the bandages inside. Nikki continued to pick through the remains. “Surgical kit,” she listed off, “surgical tray, pliers, hammer. Couldn’t they have left anything else?”

“Maybe we should try looking in patient rooms,” Jade suggested. “There might be leftover materials in there. They might be contaminated, but I bet we could stick them in boiling water and make do.”

Nikki heaved a sigh. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” She motioned the rest of them out of the room. “There should be nurse servers in the rooms, maybe in the walls or on carts that are stocked with medications and narcotics. Makes them easy to find when nurses are moving from room to room.”

“Would most people know about those?” Jade asked, worried that others would have picked through them already. They didn’t need more disappointment. They needed a win.

“Probably not,” Nikki said. “They’re usually well stocked, but they keep them locked up and at least somewhat hidden so the patients don’t steal from them. Let’s hope we’re lucky, huh?”

Jade bit her lip and didn’t respond. Nikki’s tone, while factual and to the point, grated on her nerves. She had to smush the desire to argue with the woman and try to take her down a peg. It was the same thing she felt when Nikki wanted to look at her gunshot wound. There were more important things to focus on. Jade wasn’t one of them. Jade, after all, was a grunt.

As they continued down the hallway, Jade took lead while Wyatt brought up the rear. A strange musty scent filled her nose, becoming stronger the further she walked. Her nose scrunched up and she glanced behind her. “Do you smell that?” she asked Nikki.

Nikki gave her an irritated look, as if Jade had diverged from the mission, and shook her head. “I don’t smell anything.”

“I think it’s coming from in here,” Jade said and put her hand on the handle of the door closest to her. The smell was almost overpowering. She turned the knob and found it to be unlocked. As she pushed in, the smell hit her full-on, making her gag and take a step back. It was thick and sickening.

A hand landed on her shoulder, pushing her out of the way. Max suddenly stood in front of her, and Jade felt a wash of annoyance. Was he trying to protect her from a smell? But his low cursing under his breath filled her ears, and she followed his line of sight to the dark shape motionless on the hospital bed near the window of the room. Oh god, she thought as the realization finally hit her. Oh god. Whoever was on that bed had died, and they had died a long time ago.

Jade took a step back right into Nikki. She turned on Nikki, who had a horrified look on her face. Her hazel eyes looked exhausted and sad, the lines around her mouth deepening as if she were trying to hold her sadness inside. “Oh no,” she whispered.

“Why would they be left here?” Wyatt asked from behind. “Wouldn’t they have been moved to the morgue?”

“Wouldn’t someone have come and got them?” Jade asked. Seeing the body there meant that the person had probably died forgotten and alone. It was a thought that did not sit well with her at all.

Nikki gaped, seeming to search for words. “We tried to keep everyone alive after the electricity went out, but there were too many patients reliant on oxygen or hooked up to machines that were regulating their breathing or heartbeat for them. When the inevitable deaths began to pile up, we filled the morgue with those bodies in the first wave of casualties. I never…” She trailed off and then shook herself as if coming out of a fog. “I never thought that people would be left behind. At some point, I couldn’t take it anymore, and I had to leave, which was when I sought out Wyatt and the gun club. I thought that my colleagues would contact the patients’ families, or that someone would come back looking for them. Not that they would just be left here.”

“Wouldn’t the doctors have done something for them?” Jade demanded.

Nikki swallowed hard and shook her head. “We nurses and doctors stayed for as long as possible, but we had people and families, too. I’m sure that things got so overwhelming with people dying at such a high rate that there was nothing they could do but cover the bodies with a sheet and promise to come back.”

“Except they didn’t come back,” Jade pointed out.

Silence met her words, but even though Jade wanted to be angry at those responsible for care, she couldn’t blame them. At least they had covered the bodies. There was a degree of respect in a time of crisis. No one could judge those doctors, and Jade couldn’t judge Nikki for leaving when things got to be too much for her. She had no idea what Nikki’s circumstances were, or who she had waiting for her at the end of the day.

Nikki shivered and ran a hand down over her face. “Let’s work quickly,” she said. “Try not to breathe too deeply. The fact of the matter is, if we found this person here, the telemetry floor is going to be a whole lot worse.”

“What’s the telemetry floor?” Max asked in a small voice.

“The cardiac unit,” Nikki answered.

“And why do we have to go there?” Max asked.

“For David,” Jade said harshly. “We have to get medicine and supplies for David. Where else did you think we would find that stuff?”

Max didn’t answer, but he looked wounded. Jade shrugged off her concern and followed Nikki down the hallway and up to the second floor.

“There would be patients waiting for surgery up here,” Nikki explained as they pushed inside. “I knew some were at death’s door when I left, so I can’t imagine things got any better.”

Jade steeled herself as she took in the room. Nikki was right. It was worse. It wasn’t the hospital beds full of humanoid shapes covered with sheets that unnerved her, though. It was the awful stillness. The quiet. Room after room was filled with that terrible smell, and Jade tried to breathe as shallowly as possible as Nikki broke into shelves and cabinets in each room until she found what she was looking for.

Nikki brandished a good stethoscope and box of glass thermometers as if they were gold. Jade couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “Are we finding everything on the list?” she asked.

Nikki glanced at it. “Some of it. It sucks that I can’t take a blood pressure cuff with us. They switched over to electric ones on carts a couple of years ago, and we either donated the old pressure ones or threw them out. How wasteful we were. But, bright side, the thermometers don’t have mercury in them.”

“So we won’t go mad as a hatter?” Max asked.

Jade gave him a blank look.

“Like Alice in Wonderland?” Max stuttered. “You know, the Mad Hatter was insane because of mercury poisoning…?”

“Whatever,” Jade said pushing past him and continuing to the next room. Nikki followed her while Max hung back with Wyatt.

“Are you mad at him?” Nikki asked as she began to rifle through the room.

“No,” Jade said shortly. “He’s just so annoying. Always saying the wrong thing. And he’s selfish.”

Nikki snorted. “Most men are. I think that one is just scared and tends to cover up his fear with humor. Terrible humor, but humor nonetheless.”

Jade turned around to respond and watched as Nikki popped open the top of one of the bottles from the pharmacy and dry swallowed a couple pills. She slipped the bottle back into her satchel so quickly, it seemed she thought Jade wasn’t looking, and Jade quickly turned back around. Behind her, Nikki made a small cough.

“Hey, look,” Jade said brightly, turning around with a packaged tourniquet kit. “Is this helpful?”

“Heck yes,” Nikki said, giving Jade a bright smile that Jade hadn’t seen before. Nikki’s shoulders were looser, as though some of the weight of the day had been lifted off of her.

“Good,” Jade said.

“All I’m saying is be nice to the young man,” Nikki said with a wink. “Times are tough, you know? Not like we can go speed dating or anything.”

“No, thank you,” Jade said, finding it weird that Nikki had oscillated from feeling sad over her patients to talking dating tactics. Jade peered at her a little more closely. Nikki didn’t appear as though she were high, but whatever pills she had taken had had some kind of effect.

“I’m ready to leave,” Nikki announced and walked out the door. She waved at Wyatt, who raised his eyebrow at her.

“Did you find something of value?” he asked.

“Oh yeah,” Nikki said, patting her satchel. “It’s not the greatest, but we’ll be set. I think we can head back to the hotel now.”

Wyatt turned skeptical eyes on Jade as if asking her if she noticed Nikki’s uptick in positivity. Jade shrugged at him. Wyatt didn’t need her opinion.

Jade Harrison, after all, was a grunt. She needed to remember that and keep her opinions to herself.

8

When Max finally stepped out the front doors of the hospital, he felt the sensation of gloom slowly shrug off him, like a too-heavy blanket being pulled away. Hospitals had never been an issue for him, but the eerie quiet along with actual dead bodies around every corner was making him rethink his stance on the matter. The musty smell, the dust on the shelves, the used medical tools…he suppressed a shudder. Hospitals always balanced on that borderline of places of healing or demise, and to be frank? The place could now officially be labeled a mausoleum.

Jade took the lead, heading back the way they came. For a moment, Max looked at the road leading back up the mountain and felt a wash of despair. He was so tired. The idea of walking up that mountain again—what, like the fourth or fifth time in a day—made him want to whimper. If he could have found a brewery, requested a pale ale, and sat in the corner listening to trashy indie music in a dark corner, he would have sold his soul for it. His feet ached, his legs quivered, and all he wanted was to rest.

But Jade was starting to pull ahead of him and Nikki had already walked past him without complaint. With a begrudging sigh, he followed his companions.

Galena seemed to be one of those quaint, touristy towns full of cute shops and small streets. So much different from the bustle of Chicago. He somewhat got the appeal, why Kathleen would want to live here, or at least, why she’d wanted to live here before the world ended. Maybe it was the quiet that was getting to him. A few people crossed streets, power-walking away from them or giving them the side-eye. Max couldn’t blame them. If he came across Jade carrying her pistol with that determined scowl, he’d stay clear of her too.

They walked by a road section of big-box stores in a shopping center with wide awnings over their roof and entrances. Stalled and dead cars filled the large parking lot in front of the stores. Max looked up to the sky, his thoughts getting lost in the slow drift of wispy clouds. When he looked back down, he slowed to a stop.

Just across the parking lot, three men were walking up to a hardware store sandwiched between two others in the shopping center. The larger man in the middle wore a stiff cowboy hat that contrasted with his dirty, oil-streaked gray jumpsuit. He balanced a shotgun against his shoulder and looked pleased as Punch when he discovered the broken windows of the hardware store. The other two men flanking him looked more out of place in the suburban dream of Galena. They had the composure of those who were used to standing out because of their power or knowing they were protected. Cartel.

Max let out a hiss and motioned to Wyatt to crouch down behind one of the cars. “Jade,” Max whispered, “Nikki.”

The two women turned, and Max beckoned them to get down. They hustled back to Wyatt and Max, taking refuge behind one of the groupings of cars.

“What is it?” Jade asked.

Max pointed over the hood toward the three men, who had now reached the front door. The one with the shotgun tested the door, and finding it was locked, used the butt of his shotgun to break the glass. The ring and tinkle of the door shattering filled the air. The two men—cartel men who Max now recognized from the shootout—laughed and pretended to invite one another inside with hand flourishes and bows, as though they were being presented to a queen.

“It’s Samuel,” Jade whispered, a thread of steel hardening her tone.

“The guy from the hotel?” Max asked, eyeing the man in the jumpsuit. Kathleen had told Max about the guy when he first arrived, but in all honesty, it had been the highlights without the details. “The one who thinks he owns the hotel?”

“The very same,” Jade said.

“The two men with him are part of the cartel,” Max explained. “Guess you were right to bring me along.”

He had hoped his comment would come off as a joke, but like all of his jokes with Jade, it only seemed to make her pricklier than before. Her frown intensified as Samuel and the three men walked back outside. Samuel hefted his shotgun back against his shoulder while one of the cartel members pushed what looked like a wheelbarrow without the barrow and with the wheels full of spikes. The other one had a tool that looked like a rake with curved iron points at the end.

“What are those things?” Max asked.

“Cultivators,” Wyatt supplied. “Although why a guy like Samuel needs them at all is beyond me.”

“He might be trying to start a garden,” Nikki said. “Sounds like you don’t like him, but honestly, that’s probably one of the smarter items for him to pick up.”

“Steal, you mean,” Jade said.

“Well, yeah,” Nikki said and shrugged as if semantics were the least of her problems. “Everyone is gonna be thinking about long-term food storage. Even if we are in the summer months, we need to be prepared for the winter. Even this Samuel guy. Nothing here is sustainable. He’s probably thinking long-term because looting isn’t going to be lucrative in the long run.”

“You’re wrong,” Jade said in a low voice full of venom. “That man is dangerous. He won’t be thinking about the future. He’ll just wait until people have something for him to take. I wish I’d let Matthew kill him when he had the chance.”

“What do you mean?” Max asked, unable to imagine Matthew pushed to the point of murder.

“Matthew managed to get Samuel ousted from the hotel after he tried to take it over and had Patton and Ruth serving him. Matthew tried to shoot Samuel, missed, and Ruth knocked him out. Then, when they got Samuel out of the hotel, Matthew was about to shoot him again, but I made him stop. Told him murder wasn’t worth it.”

“Makes sense that Colin’s cartel buddies would befriend a guy like him, then,” Max said, feeling bewildered. He didn’t get people sometimes. “I don’t know those members personally, but I do know they’re part of the cartel. I don’t get it. Why would those cartel guys stick around here? Plus, why would Samuel want to take over the whole hotel? Wouldn’t it have made better sense to become allies of the hotel or even the gun club?”

“The gun club isn’t on friendly terms with Samuel either,” Wyatt put in.

Max turned to see Wyatt focused on the three men walking away from the hardware store, watching them until they disappeared from view. The intensity unnerved Max a bit, and he realized that he didn’t want to ever be on Wyatt’s bad side. “How come?” he asked.

“He joined, but he didn’t respect the rules. To him, the concept of safety was only something to be broken to show how ridiculous the rules actually were. I can’t prove this, but I’m fairly certain he came to the club high one day, and expected me to let him shoot with our members.”

“How did you know he was high?” Nikki asked.

“He was acting weird. Stumbling around. Everything was too funny to him. Put me on edge. I’d heard rumors he was dealing drugs, and I didn’t want any of that around the younger members who might be susceptible to it. The gun club was supposed to be a haven away from that.”

Nikki made a humming sound in her throat as the conversation stalled. “We shouldn’t waste too much time here,” she said as Samuel and the cartel members disappeared from view. “I need to get back to David.”

“You’re right,” Wyatt said, “but I think it would be a mistake not to go into the hardware store now that we are here. There might be supplies that could be useful.”

Nikki waited a beat but then nodded in agreement. Jade didn’t look happy about the decision, but she tended to keep her thoughts to herself. Max didn’t want to go anywhere the cartel members had been, but the others had a point.

The four of them jogged across the parking lot and stepped through the broken door. Even though he’d seen Samuel and his crew leave, Max didn’t trust that the cartel were completely gone. He was on high alert when they entered the store. He didn’t want to take any chances.

Inside, Max saw the same chaos that was becoming par for the course these days. Carts were overturned in the middle of the aisles. Large bags of soil had been punched through, and the rich dirt covered the smooth tiles of the floor. Merchandise lay in strange places where people had strewn it. Wyatt walked to a rotating wire shelf near the counter which was full of seed packets. He took as many as he could and stuffed them into his pockets, and then dumped more into Nikki’s already bulging satchel.

Jade walked along the aisles, searching the empty shelves. “I think Samuel took the last cultivator,” she said. “I don’t see another one around here.”

“That’s a bummer,” Wyatt said, putting another set of shears into a ragged-looking plastic bag along with more seed packets and a trowel. “At least there was some useful stuff left. These seeds will be invaluable. I think we can head back up the mountain now.”

Max couldn’t stop it. The groan escaped him before he could tamp it down. The thought of the trek before them filled him with dread. “I don’t know about you guys, but I am sick of walking up that stupid mountain.”

Silence met his declaration. Jade’s shoulders hunched. She rounded on him with fury blazing in her eyes. “Do you ever think of anyone other than yourself?” she demanded.

“Hey,” Max said, feeling hurt by the force of her words. “I’ve been beaten and bruised on that road. I walked all the way from Chicago to get to the top of that road. I don’t need you to make light of my sacrifices. I’m here, aren’t I? I’m on this little mission of yours. Not sure that means I’m the selfish one here.”

For whatever reason, that seemed to incense Jade further. “You don’t get to count this as an example of your unselfishness. I forced you to come with us. You tried to get out of it. I think that clearly puts you in the self-absorbed category.”

With that, Jade pushed past him and shoulder-checked him as she walked outside. Nikki and Wyatt silently followed her. Max let out an aggrieved sigh and followed, not wanting to be left behind.

9

It had been three days since Nikki, Wyatt, Max, and Jade had come back from Galena with their pockets and bags overflowing. Kathleen had felt every single hour. Escaping outside with the excuse of using the privy, Kathleen was really grabbing five minutes alone. Standing in the shade, she leaned against the wall of the hotel as though she were in hiding, and rubbed her eyes.

Caring for David had become her whole life, which meant her whole life was confined to that one room. Monitoring his breathing, checking his heartbeat, ensuring his vitals were normal, not so slow or so fast as to be deemed traumatic to his system. Wiping his sweat, cleaning his body, coaxing medicines and bottled water down his throat, along with some meager gruel Ruth concocted for him. The time went by so quickly and yet so slowly.

Looking up into the morning sun, she wanted to step into the light and let the warmth seep into her bones. But she feared losing this moment of silence. She feared that her children might spot her and ask for a favor. That a visiting member of the gun club might approach her and ask for guidance or direction. When she wasn’t caring for David, she was making meals for everyone or looking into structural issues with the hotel, or having Matthew chatter to her about well restoration. The world felt so overwhelming—even more so than when she had a phone ringing off the hook or buzzing with a slew of texts. When she had papers to grade every night and a family to feed. Just a different set of tasks, she thought, looking into the cloud-filled sky. Same, but different.

It wasn’t completely hopeless. She started to count all the good things to keep her from spiraling into thoughts of the futility of it all. Her children were thriving and a constant source of light and presence around their grandfather. Even though she knew the medicine was helpful in keeping David alive, she thought it was more due to Patton and Allison that he had his spirit back. And she was beginning to understand medicine as though by osmosis by simply being around Nikki, an area that she never envisioned herself taking an interest in. Yet it had been so empowering to watch Nikki work. The short, no-nonsense woman could look at a problem and see a multitude of different solutions. If one didn’t work, she never took it to heart. It was as if she never doubted herself. Never made herself feel bad when things didn’t go as planned.

Kathleen liked that. She also liked that when Wyatt had inventoried the seeds and discovered he had an abundance of spinach and collard greens, Nikki’s smile had lit up the whole room. Those greens were helpful for reducing blood pressure and lowering heart disease, she’d told them. And here Kathleen thought they were just diet rabbit food. Staring at the mountains, she counted some of the other facts she’d learned. Green beans helped reduce blood pressure and inflammation. Tomatoes might be bad for heartburn, but they would help defend against heart attacks. She imagined one day pulling up bulbs of garlic from the rich earth and knowing it would lower cholesterol and reduce blood clots, along with the good flavor it added to their bland meals. Patton might try to ward off imaginary vampires with it, but she didn’t mind. There was so much depth of knowledge about everyday produce that she hadn’t understood before. She had gained a whole new appreciation for the food she would have to grow and care for, and with Nikki’s guidance on medicinal properties, Kathleen hoped she could put her knowledge to the test.

Her five minutes had turned into ten. With a sigh, she turned away from the bright sunlight and walked back into the hotel. As she neared David’s room, she heard a brewing argument. Steeling herself, she entered to see David propped up on a throne of pillows, his pale face pinched in distress. He’d been responding well to the medication, giving him hours of lucidity at a time before his body would pull him back under into a healing sleep. When David was awake, though, he wasn’t a pleasant man to be around.

“I can do it myself,” he growled as Nikki held a spoon filled with what looked like microwavable oatmeal up to his mouth.

“That’s what you said last time and got boiling-hot breakfast all over your chest,” Nikki responded in a pleasant tone. “Let’s do it my way for a change, huh?”

“I’m not a child,” David said. “I can feed myself.”

“I’d rather not have to treat you for a second-degree burn,” Nikki continued, her bedside manner impeccable. “Save me the hassle, why don’t you?”

“I’m not a hassle. You’re the hassle, woman,” David said. “Weren’t you supposed to go back to the gun club last night? Don’t know why you spend the evening sleeping in the chair next to me. Take a hint and give me some space.”

“Wyatt wanted me to go back and get some rest, yes,” Nikki admitted, “but unfortunately, you’re going to have to do much more to scare me off. Another heart attack will just make me a permanent resident in your life. Do we really want that?”

“No,” David nearly shouted.

“No, we don’t,” Nikki said. “So the best solution is for you to get better. And the way to do that is to eat the damn oatmeal.”

Kathleen suppressed a grin as she walked into the room and helped prop David up further with the pillows. “You seem to be in a mood,” she offered to her father-in-law.

“It’s two of you now?” David grumbled, still refusing to eat. “If it’s not you or her, it’s Ruth. Like circling crows.”

“I think we’re full of more love than crows,” Kathleen said. “Don’t be a pain, David. Eat.”

“What’s Matthew doing?” David asked suddenly.

A moment of silence followed his question, and Kathleen’s heart clenched in her chest. “He’s outside with some members of the gun club, trying to restore the well,” she said, trying to keep her tone light.

“I should be out there helping them,” David said. “Matthew will need me. He knows nothing about architecture. When he was a young man, he couldn’t figure out how to replace a part in the washing machine.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Nikki intervened quickly. “You won’t be getting out of this bed. You can take that to the bank.”

David muttered under his breath something about being in a prison, and Kathleen couldn’t help but roll her eyes. The man was irritating to say the least. The drapes around the open window fluttered with a breeze, bringing fresh air into the sickroom. David breathed in deeply and looked longingly out at the blue sky. Kathleen knew he wanted to be out helping the other men rebuild the well, but more than that, he wanted to see Matthew.

She bit her lip and put a new bottle of water on the nightstand next to David. Matthew had been stubbornly absent from his father’s side, a fact that did not go unnoticed by anyone. She hadn’t wanted to pressure him, not in the beginning, but now something needed to be said. David’s first heart attack had rattled Matthew, and she knew that this second one had sent him spinning with guilt and fear that he refused to address. It was hard seeing David so wan and pale, a shadow of the man he’d been, but he was still David. And David needed his son, more than he needed food or water at this point.

Nikki looked up at her, and Kathleen motioned her head toward the door. Taking the hint, Nikki put the spoon back in the small bowl and handed it to David. “Have it your way,” she said. “If you can eat this whole thing on your own without spilling by the time I get back, I might consider giving you food privileges.”

“What a saint,” David said sarcastically, but he took the bowl with shaking, if enthusiastic hands.

“We’ll be right back,” Kathleen said and couldn’t help but notice David’s relief at finally having a moment to himself. He probably was just as overwhelmed and exhausted by them as they were by him. Love was like that, though. Necessary and annoying all at once.

Nikki followed Kathleen out to the hallway, far enough away so David wouldn’t be able to hear them. “Would you be all right being alone with him for an hour or two?” Kathleen asked. “I know that’s a lot to ask, but I want to find Matthew and have a word with him.”

“It’s no problem,” Nikki said with a smile.

“Are you sure?” Kathleen pressed. “David isn’t an easy patient.”

Nikki’s smile widened. “Oh, that’s nothing new,” she said. “I’ve dealt with difficult patients before. His attitude means he’s a fighter, which only means good things for his recovery. It’s part of the job description to deal with attitudes like that.”

Kathleen reached out and squeezed Nikki’s arm. “When David said you were a saint, he wasn’t lying. When I say it, I’m not being condescending. I am so grateful to you for being here.”

“Okay, sure, but if you leave me for more than eight hours, we will have words,” Nikki joked as Kathleen slipped back outside.

The sun blinded her as she walked down the front steps and headed toward the back of the hotel. Warmth covered her arms, and when she looked at the clouds, she could make out the shape of a duck and a ship. When all this was over, she wanted to lie down in the green grass and stare at the sky, making up stories out of those shapes and telling them to Patton. But right now, she had to find Matthew and tell him to get inside to see his father.

She heard them before she saw them. The grumble and deep laugh of masculine voices talking over each other and then the sharp sound of approval or denial of a suggestion. When they came into view, the group was standing close together, all peering downwards at the well.

“We should at least try sludging,” one of the men said, putting his hand up to stroke his chin in thought. “We have a big enough crew that we could use logs to build a rudimentary scaffolding, saw off a rusted or used PVC pipe, and then can take turns boring the pipe into the ground. It would be time intensive, but it’s way easier than hand digging.”

“Hand digging makes sense though,” another man, who Kathleen had been told was named Shawn, said, “because it lets us start off slow to evaluate how far we need to go for water to start filling the well. We can still take shifts and then at least see how far we need to dig before we get water.”

“It’s way too dangerous,” Wyatt cut in. “Someone could get buried or hurt if there was a cave-in. There isn’t a lot of oxygen down there, so the rotation would keep endangering people. That’s not to mention how much we would have to dig. Maybe there was a reason the old owners capped the well before the log fell on top of it.”

“We can’t worry about bacteria,” Matthew said. “If we need to boil the water, that’s far easier to do than trekking down to the river every day, hauling it all back, and boiling it. You’ll just have to take the chance on giardia.”

Matthew grinned. Wyatt glared. Kathleen crossed her arms and coughed politely. The men turned as one to look at her, and she gave a little wave. “Hi there,” she said. “Mind if I borrow my husband for a moment?”

“Only if you can convince him this hand digging idea is dangerous,” Wyatt grumbled, turning back to the other men who either nodded in agreement or rolled their eyes in disagreement. Split party, it seemed.

“I’ll be right back,” Matthew said, breaking from the pack. “Don’t decide on anything without me.”

Kathleen led him far enough away from the well and the others so that they could still hear the murmur of debate, but have some semblance of privacy. She turned to Matthew and said, “I think it might be a good idea if you take the rest of the afternoon and visit your father.”

She immediately hated how she sounded like a mother to her own husband. It made her wince, but Matthew simply wasn’t seeing clearly. He needed a strong hand, and if that was to be Kathleen, then so be it.

Irritation crossed Matthew’s face. He wouldn’t meet her eyes, instead staring at the sunbeams cutting through the trees. “Kathleen, they’re just starting to make a decision on how we should start repairing the well. The guys need me here. Wyatt is being too cautious, but there are a few young bucks who are far too eager. We need to find a common ground of agreement.”

“You haven’t been to see him since you brought him to the hotel,” Kathleen pointed out. When Matthew didn’t look at her, she emphasized, “Three days, Matt. It’s been three days.”

“I know how long it’s been,” Matthew said angrily, as if she’d pointed out some kind of flaw. “I’ve spent that whole time trying to guarantee that we have clean water to help with his recovery. That’s more important than me holding his hand and starting up some useless small talk.”

Concern rattled through Kathleen. “I know it might seem useless, but connection is just as important in the healing process,” she tried to say gently. “David is having a bad day and is feeling useless. He could use some support. The kids have been to see him every day, but it’s you he really wants to see. Matt. Matt. Matthew, are you listening to me?”

Matthew had his head cocked as if he had completely zoned out, but Kathleen knew he was focused on the conversation happening behind him. “Hey, you can’t take a vote without me!” he called over his shoulder, and Kathleen heard the titter of laughter from the men. “I’m serious!” Matthew said.

“Hurry up, then,” Shawn called back. “Wyatt’s making some strong points, right about now!”

Matthew huffed and turned back to Kathleen. “Look, honey, I’ll come and see my dad after this gets done. I promise. As soon as I can. I know you’re all doing everything you can to help him, but this is the best way I can help him.”

“You can help him by not making him feel isolated and useless—Matthew, seriously?”

But her husband had turned his back on her and began to walk back to the men. The guys folded Matthew back into their conversation. Kathleen watched a relieved smile cross his face when Wyatt made some kind of joke at his expense. Anger filled her. If the situation were different, they’d be having a full-on fight right about now. She didn’t like being brushed off, or turned into a nag, simply because Matthew couldn’t deal with his father’s life hanging in the balance. Repairing the well was simply a way to avoid the issue altogether, and while she knew he didn’t need the reminder of the first heart attack, David needed some diversion from being sick. The kids and Jade were always welcome company, but nothing would replace Matthew’s presence for David.

Kathleen knew David missed Matthew most of all. She just wished Matthew could see that too.

10

The problem with suddenly being thrust into an apocalypse was that it made it difficult to figure out what made you valuable. For Allison, this had been a lifelong struggle, one that had become apparent when she’d been faced with deciding what she wanted to be when she grew up—not figuratively, like an astronaut or a president, but her real calling in life. College was a looming presence—or at least had been a looming presence—where she’d had a heart to heart with herself, thinking about who she was going to become.

She was good at socializing. She was excellent at going with the flow. She didn’t let things bother her. When her parents decided to up and move them, she’d kept her cool for the most part. She thought she’d be heading back to Chicago solo to embark on a career in marketing like her dad. Maybe go to some parties. Have fun. Take an art class.

Now, she was the girl who fainted from eating cereal. What an embarrassing disaster. She didn’t know where she fit into this new world. Patton was, in a way, taking to it like a fish to water. But Allison, without friends or a direction, felt hopeless.

That wasn’t to mention the knot in her gut when it came to her grandfather. She had a terrible sensation of dread that followed her every hour of the day. If the world were sane, she might wonder if she had developed a complex or clinical anxiety. Now, she knew she simply had to deal with her feelings. As she walked down the hallway to visit her grandfather because she didn’t know what else to do with her day, she nearly ran into Nikki storming out of the room and shutting the door with a loud bang.

Frazzled. That was the only term that fit Nikki. Her usual calm demeanor had frayed. Her shoulder-length auburn hair stood on end, as if she’d been running her fingers through it constantly. Nikki’s hazel eyes were wide with a kind of frustration that said if she didn’t get a moment alone, she was going to snap.

“Hey,” Allison said, peering around the doctor to the door leading to her grandfather’s sick room. “Everything okay?”

“If you can call a man on the brink of being strangled okay,” Nikki said. “I’m trying to take some vitals and he’s fighting me with every step. He needs someone to take his mind off things, or do the actual vital taking themselves.”

“Any way I can help?” Allison said, trying to keep it cool—it was one of her things, after all—but hoping Nikki would say yes.

“What I actually need is your grandmother,” Nikki said, to Allison’s disappointment. “He’s always so much better behaved when she’s around.”

“Do you want me to go and get her?” Allison asked.

“God, would you? You’d be a lifesaver.”

“Of course,” Allison said, putting her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “I’ll send her in as soon as I can.”

Nikki looked relieved. “I think I could hug you,” she said.

Allison smiled in response and headed out the door. She checked the kitchen first, but found the space empty and quiet for once. Then she headed outdoors. The sunlight was too bright and she wished for sunglasses. But when she rounded the corner of the hotel, she saw the slender frame of her grandmother with her hair in a loose bun, focused on the patch of turned earth beneath her.

The garden patch had been an evolving project, starting out small and then expanding when they realized they had the space to plant the new seeds Wyatt had brought back. But the sunlight required for different seeds meant multiple patches for growth optimization. This particular garden patch was in an area that would have partial shade throughout the day. It was near a series of brambly gray bushes that looked close to dead, or at least wouldn’t be coming back to life this summer.

A set of tools had been laid out on the ground, most likely brought up to the hotel by the young woman who was puttering around the garden with her grandma. She had a short pixie haircut. Jade was there too, and she stood up from digging into the earth with a trowel to stretch her back. Allison waved at them. “Hi!” she called out.

The new young woman stood up too fast and stumbled over a root. She bumped hard into Ruth accidentally, and Allison watched in horror as both tripped and fell into the sharp brambles. Allison winced and jogged over to help her grandmother up. Jade held out a hand to the other young woman and pulled her back upright.

“I’m so sorry!” the young woman said as Ruth waved the apology off.

“No need to be sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” Ruth said, swiping at the broken branches that had snagged her shirt and picking out some of the brambles caught in her hair. Scratches covered her arms, some them looking quite deep and beginning to bleed.

“You should go and see Nikki,” Jade said, gesturing toward Ruth’s arms.

“Oh posh, no thank you,” Ruth said, wiping her arms and smearing the blood. “She’s got enough on her plate dealing with David.” Ruth turned to Allison and said brightly, “It’s good to see you, honey. What are you up to today?”

“Well, I didn’t expect you to lose a battle with the brambles, that’s for sure,” Allison said, letting go of her grandmother’s arms.

Ruth cracked a smile. The young woman laughed loudly. “Yup, that’s your granddaughter for sure, Ruth.”

“Be nice to me, Lauren,” Ruth said to the young woman. “You never saw any of that. I won against the brambles. Agreed?”

Lauren held up her hands in surrender. “As long as you don’t spread rumors about my clumsiness, I’ll tell everyone you won ten battles against the brambles.”

Allison grinned, warming to the conversation, but not sure how she could contribute to it. She liked this young woman immediately and wondered how they could become friends. If she had her phone, she’d look up her social media and befriend her right away, but now she had to do things old-school style. “Speaking of Nikki, she wants to see you. Grandpa’s in a mood,” she said to Ruth.

The light in Ruth’s face dimmed, and she looked out on the small garden, the tools, and the seed packets, ready for planting. “I don’t think I can,” she said mournfully. “There’s so much work to do. Our small garden needs a lot of help getting off the ground. Or, at least that’s what Lauren has been telling me.”

Lauren rolled her dark brown eyes and said to Allison, “Just because I was in 4H doesn’t mean I’m an expert.”

“You certainly have put me in my place. I wanted to plant the zucchini in full daylight!” Ruth exclaimed.

“You just had to read the back of the packet,” Lauren said. “This is what happens when you graduate high school,” she confided to Allison with a wink. “Everyone thinks you’re smart for doing the easiest things.”

“Are you a recent grad?” Allison asked.

“You bet,” Lauren said. “Planned to go to college and everything, but that stalled out.”

Allison nodded in sympathy. She studied the garden, finally seeing what Ruth and Lauren saw. Instead of a turned-over plot of earth, she was beginning to make out the tree roots that had crept into the place, the snarls of weeds waiting to be pulled, how some of the dirt had an old, gray look to it that spoke of unhealthiness. Ruth was right. There was a lot to do, but her grandmother couldn’t be in two places at once.

“Any chance I could help?” Allison said. “Grandma, I can take up your duties. Just tell me what to do. At least for a little while. Nikki was insistent that Grandpa needed you.”

Ruth looked conflicted, her teeth catching on her lower lip with worry.

“Lauren can be our team lead,” Allison said, using jargon learned from her father. “I’ll do everything like an expert. By the time you come back, you won’t even recognize the place.”

“You should focus on David,” Jade cut in softly. “There’s no shame in going to see him.”

“I know,” Ruth said, her eyes filling with tears. “I just feel so selfish being with him while you girls are out here doing so much back-breaking labor. It’s such a big project just for a few people.”

“It’s no problem,” Jade said. “Nikki can check out your scratches and give David a reprieve from being the injured Riley of the bunch.”

“You can come out and check on us any time,” Allison said. “The garden is important, but so is Grandpa. You need to spend some time with him. There’s only so many times he can ask me to explain Twitter to him. And Twitter doesn’t even exist anymore!”

Ruth let out a soft laugh that sounded somewhat like a sob.

“You can be a little selfish,” Allison said and Jade nodded, taking Ruth’s arm and helping to steer her inside.

“But just for a little bit,” Ruth said over her shoulder. “If you need any help, please come get me.”

“We will,” Allison said as the two women rounded the corner and left her line of sight. Allison turned back to Laruen and gave her a small smile to hide the sudden sensation of being overwhelmed. “Now that that’s over with, I gotta admit, I know little to nothing about gardening.”

“That’s okay,” Lauren said, handing her a rake. “You’ll learn.”

11

Patton swung the stick he’d picked up through the tall grass like a machete, pretending that he was cutting through the slinking vines of a tropical jungle. The swish-swish sound filled his ears along with the chirp of bugs, none of which he could name. He wasn’t a scientist on this adventure, though. He was the grizzled warrior, bashing the heads of his enemies and forging a path through the underbrush. He was the leader of this crew. He was the…

He was the young boy of the River Rock Hotel. He raised his hand to gently probe the bruises on his face that he’d earned from the gunfight when his father and uncle had come to save him. Even though he might wear the wounds of a warrior, Patton didn’t find any pride in them. The scratches across his cheeks still hurt. The cut on his neck was healing, but it was still a raised, red line. Looking at the stick in his hands, he snarled at it, and threw it into the brush. If he kept wandering around the property simply imagining stuff, he was of no use to anyone. He needed to get his head in the game. It was these stupid daydreams that got him kidnapped in the first place.

Walking past his sister who was on her hands and knees in the rough-looking garden patch, he considered picking up one of the rakes and helping her out. But she was smiling and gossiping with the other short-haired girl, and if Patton had to listen to girl-talk about…he didn’t know, unicorns and other boys, he’d puke. Grimacing, he snuck by them, hoping they wouldn’t notice him, and redirected his path toward the back of the hotel.

The tall familiar shape of his father came into view, huddled with a group of other men. They were trying to figure out how to fix the well. That was all anyone could talk about for the past three days. If it was so important, then Patton wanted in on the action. As he approached, he heard the men grumbling about how to construct a safe and easy way to lower people down inside the darkened shaft. Some of them had begun talking about “masonry” which went completely over Patton’s head, but he stored the word away so he could look it up later. Approaching his father, he tugged on Matthew’s sleeve. “Dad,” he said. Insistent.

Matthew didn’t pay him any attention because he was so focused on what Wyatt was saying.

Patton tried again. “Dad.”

Matthew glanced at him. “Hi, kiddo. Give me a sec, okay?”

“We need someone to go down inside the well who isn’t too heavy, that we can haul back up if something goes wrong,” Wyatt finished.

“I’m light,” Patton volunteered. “I’m small. I can do it.”

A broad smile crossed Wyatt’s face. Patton frowned. When he looked at his father, he saw that same smile. Patton frowned more. “What?” he demanded. “I can help.”

“I appreciate the enthusiasm,” Matthew said, sharing a wink with Wyatt that Patton didn’t like at all. Was his Dad laughing at him in that parent kind of way? “But it’s too dangerous for us, not to mention for a twelve-year-old. Why don’t you go and see what Allison is up to?”

“Allison is in the garden,” Patton said. “I don’t want to garden.”

“Gardening is a very important skill,” Wyatt said. “It would be helpful for you to know how so you can teach us old dogs new tricks.”

Okay, now Patton really felt like he was being made fun of. He ignored Wyatt. “Dad, that’s not helping enough. It would just be digging in the dirt and listening to Allison talk about dumb girl stuff.”

“What counts as dumb girl stuff?” Matthew asked.

“I don’t know. Boys?”

A great belly laugh erupted from Wyatt. “Just you wait, kid. Someday soon, you’ll be more than content to having a bunch of girls talking about you.”

“Dad, c’mon,” Patton said, feeling embarrassed, but he didn’t quite know why. The other guys in the group were beginning to whisper with each other, and that same broad smile that had moved from Wyatt’s face to his father’s face now seemed to infect all of them. It spread like wildfire around the group until they were all grinning at him in a soft, affectionate way. It only made him feel like they thought he was too dumb to get the joke.

“I’m sorry, Patton. But no. Maybe when you’re older,” Matthew said and Patton knew he’d lost this particular battle. He knew when his father took that tone that there was no use trying to convince him otherwise.

“Fine,” Patton said, more sharply than he intended, and walked away from the group of men. A low chuckle seemed to follow him, and he resented everyone in that group even more. He’d been kidnapped, after all, and lived to tell the tale. Was that why the guys wouldn’t let him help? Because of that?

His stomach hurt. He wanted to punch something as he walked back to the hotel. Maybe Grandpa could help him out. Grandpa had a way with Dad. Maybe he could convince Matthew that Patton could help out after all. He stomped up the front steps to the hotel and into the lobby, heading for the back hallway and the suite where his grandfather was resting and healing. His mother intercepted him, walking toward him with a grim look on her face. The hurt in Patton’s stomach increased.

“Hi honey,” Kathleen said, “how are you doing?”

“Going to see Grandpa,” Patton said.

Kathleen’s face collapsed into worry. It was a look Patton was tired of seeing on his mother’s face. “Your grandpa is having a rough day. I think it might be better if we give him some space and come by to see him later,” she said.

Patton wanted to put a hole in the wall with his fist. “Why?” he demanded hotly. “Is something wrong with him?”

“He’s just having a bad day,” Kathleen reiterated, as if Patton could understand what that meant. Patton had bad days all the time. This day was shaping up to be a bad day, too.

“Maybe I could cheer him up, then,” Patton said.

“I know you like to talk to him about everything under the sun, but he needs his rest,” Kathleen said.

“And am I not restful?” Patton shot back, feeling that hurt in his stomach start to turn into fire. Turn into anger.

“That’s not what I meant. He’s recovering from a heart attack. The medical care is so much more complicated to understand. It’s not just physical healing, but mental and emotional healing as well. I know he’d love to see you, but I think we should give him space right now.”

“I can help him, Mom,” Patton said. “He always loves seeing me.”

That worried expression collapsed into one of sorrowful pride as Kathleen said, “Patton, I know it’s hard for a boy to understand, let alone handle…”

“I’m not a boy. I’m almost thirteen! I can handle anything!”

Kathleen’s face took on that overwrought appearance, as if she was on a slippery slope and losing her grip quickly. “Patton, please. Just listen to me and do what I say. Why don’t you go out and help Allison with the garden? I’m sure she would love your company and you can put that restless energy to good use.”

Ugh.

“I don’t want to talk with Allison,” Patton said. “I want to talk to Grandpa. I don’t want to help Allison. I want to help Grandpa.”

Kathleen opened her mouth and then looked behind him, almost as though she might be saved from this conversation. Patton whipped around to see his grandmother walking down the hallway with a plate full of salted venison from their storage and canned vegetables. Patton recalled a small hunting party from the gun club going out and bringing back half a deer for the Riley family, something like a trade for the use of the well. A show of good faith, David had said when Patton had explained why they had a new type of food to eat.

Kathleen tutted. “That red meat isn’t going to be doing David any favors.”

Ruth looked apologetic. “I know, Nikki has said it more than once. But at least he eats it without a fuss, and there’s not much else we can give him.”

“We need to think about what other kind of protein we can feed him that won’t worsen his cardiac issues,” Kathleen mused. “Are rabbits considered lean? Any kind of birds?”

Patton sighed, feeling forgotten. It was as though she never listened to him when he told her about his Boy Scout field trips. He remembered learning about the local flora and fauna during a field trip where they went outside and tried to identify what counted as wildlife around the Chicago public parks. “Yes, Mom. They are,” he said. But it felt as though he’d suddenly disappeared and gone invisible. “It’s summer,” he continued, loudly. “This is when we usually see lots of rabbits out. ’Tis the season.”

Ruth smiled at him. “Did you learn that in school?”

Ugh. He felt like everyone was treating him like a child, but he knew his grandma didn’t mean any harm. He forced a smile back at her. “Boy Scouts. Long time ago.”

Kathleen ushered Ruth inside David’s room where Patton glimpsed his bedridden grandfather arguing with Nikki. “We should tell the hunting party to start shooting for those,” she said to Ruth, as if Patton’s advice had floated down from the heavens instead of coming straight from her own son.

“They might think it’s beneath them,” Ruth said, entering the room and leaving Patton standing alone behind them. “They’re usually after bigger game.”

Huh. Interesting.

Patton slipped away, an idea forming in his mind. Beneath them? He’d see about that.

12

It was a quick sprint from the front of the hotel around to the back, where his father and the well restoration crew had moved from debating to working together to clear the space around the well. He waited patiently while his father and a couple of other guys hefted the fallen tree further away into the woods. When Matthew returned, he wore an annoyed look and raised an eyebrow at Patton.

“Back so soon?” he asked, as if warning Patton not to get in the way. “It’s really dangerous here. It would be better if you were somewhere else and not underfoot.”

“I’m not here to be in the way,” Patton said, feeling the embers in his stomach blaze hotter, ready to catch fire. Why couldn’t anyone see that he was here to help and not be in the way? He’d show them. “I wondered if I could go to the gun club. Wyatt can take me when he goes back?”

“Why do you want to go to the gun club?” Matthew asked even as Wyatt finished hauling some long branches off to the side, and headed to join them at the sound of his name.

“I want to get out of here,” Patton said. “See if I can get to know the other boys at the gun club.”

Ugh. He hated using the word boy, but it would appeal to both his father and Wyatt, who had now officially joined their conversation.

Wyatt looked at Matthew with a shrug. “I can take him. I need to go back to the club as it is to grab a block and tackle. I wouldn’t mind escorting him there and introducing him.”

Matthew almost looked relieved. “That might be a good idea,” he said, turning to look at Wyatt. “You sure you don’t mind?”

“Not in the least,” Wyatt said. “Heading that way anyway, might as well. The kids at the gun club are really friendly. It will be good to get him out and socialize. Hang out with kids his own age. He’s climbing walls as it is.”

Patton didn’t know what walls he was climbing, but his plan was working easier than he thought. When he got to the gun club, he wasn’t going to meet any kids at all. He was going straight for the shooting range and taking an immediate lesson on hunting. But whatever got him to the club in the fastest, most efficient way. He didn’t want to fight with his father, not with all these other men around him. Judging him. Probably thinking he was just “that kid that got kidnapped.” Ugh.

“Okay,” Matthew said and then turned to look at Patton seriously in the eye. “But you behave, Patton. You obey Wyatt as though he were me or your mother. He’s in charge, okay?”

“Yessir,” Patton said, just like his grandfather had taught him.

“Don’t leave the gun club without an adult, either,” Matthew added. “You need someone to walk with you to the club and back to the hotel. Got it?”

“Yessir,” Patton said.

“All right, let’s go,” Wyatt said, clapping Patton on the back and giving Matthew a thumbs-up. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Thanks,” Matthew said again and then focused his attention back on helping the rest of the well restoration crew clear the ground.

Patton smiled to himself. The first act of his master plan was complete with no one the wiser. He would get to the gun club, slip past Wyatt, and head to the shooting range. Someone would be there to help instruct him and possibly let him rent out a gun for the day. He didn’t know if that was actually how a gun club worked, but when he was in Boy Scouts, you had to rent out equipment all the time. He figured it would be something like that. It didn’t matter. He’d figure it out when he got there. Maybe he wasn’t the grizzled warrior after all, but the black-cloaked rogue, sneaking in and out of places without a trace.

The sun beat down on him as he and Wyatt crossed the property line of the hotel and headed down the mountain. A constant wind kept the sweat from beading on his brow, and Patton let out a small sigh of satisfaction. The walk helped calm the fire that had been brewing within him, and the exercise reduced the itchiness that demanded he do something. Wyatt kept up a good pace, pushing Patton to keep up. The silence wasn’t something he was used to, so he decided to try his rogue-like ways of persuasion to get some information out of the Marine.

“How hard is it to learn to shoot?” he asked, kicking a rock out of the way and hoping he sounded cool as a cucumber. Just a kid curious about guns, like most boys are. That was all.

Wyatt put a hand on his chin as if contemplating Patton’s question. “Not hard at all with enough practice and guidance. Jade’s already given you a beginner’s lesson, hasn’t she?”

Patton nodded. “Yeah. It was awesome. She helped show me how to aim and respect the weapon, along with overall gun safety. I want to get better at it.”

“This was before you were taken, right?” Wyatt asked, sounding strangely light, as if he were walking on glass.

Ugh. There it was again. Patton was that “kidnapped kid.”

“Yeah,” he said shortly and then hoped to refocus Wyatt on something that didn’t make the ache in Patton’s stomach return. “She also mentioned going on a deer hunt. That I had the talent to be really good at it.”

Okay, so Jade might not have actually said those things, but adults had so much they needed to remember all the time, that it was worth the tiny white lie.

Wyatt made an interesting sound in the back of his throat. “Is that so? I’d believe it. Jade has a good eye for finding those who can respect both the sport and the weapon. Plus, you seem to be an attentive student.”

“But since I’ve been home,” Patton continued, not wanting to bring up the kidnapping any further, “it’s like no one has the time to teach me anything else. Everyone’s helping my grandpa or working on the well or gardening. It’s like I have to do everything myself.”

Whoops. That went a little bit too far. He didn’t mean to admit that. He glanced at Wyatt to see how the Marine would react.

Wyatt looked thoughtful. “That is frustrating,” he said, and Patton relaxed a bit. “I know that while the gun club does have its own hunting crew, it sounds like you might be eager to start one on your own. A lot of priorities have shifted and some of those tasks aren’t as fun or exciting as hunting. I know gardening can be unappealing—”

Ugh. Gardening. Again.

“—but that doesn’t mean it’s not important. We’ll need a sustainable food source that can come back year after year. Hunting is great, but you also have to take into consideration that your prey are living and breathing animals. They need to grow and learn and live, too. If we hunt too many of them too quickly, they won’t come back to this area. If we don’t give them time to repopulate, we won’t have any meat for the next year or the year after that. It’s not just about hunting, it’s about an offering and a gift from those animals to sustain us. Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” Patton said, feeling overwhelmed with all the knowledge, and yet at the same time kind of in awe of it. “But I don’t want to just hunt deer. I want to hunt rabbits too.”

“Rabbits are a good starting place,” Wyatt commented. “They’re more difficult and a different kind of hunting technique than a deer. Not as much meat on their bones, though, to feed my crew or your family.”

“But all we bring in is big game,” Patton said. “Wouldn’t it be helpful to have someone who can bring in smaller, different types of meat?”

“I suppose,” Wyatt said slowly. “What’s wrong with big game, though? Do you not like the taste?”

“It’s not that. My grandpa shouldn’t be eating so much red meat. My mom and Nikki said it’s not good for him. That it could affect his cardiac recovery.”

He’d heard that grown-up term enough times that he felt he could use it, even though he didn’t quite understand the deeper meaning of it. He hoped that Wyatt would take him seriously if he used the phrase. If he could talk like an adult, maybe they would respect him more. They turned down the road that led to the gun club, switching from pavement to gravel beneath their feet.

“I just thought that since he needs a different kind of meat that I could, you know, get it for him,” Patton said lamely and felt a wave of failure wash over him. He’d revealed too much again. His plans were blowing up in his face. He couldn’t stop talking. It was as though all his hopes were spilling out of him in the comforting space Wyatt had provided for him to actually speak his truth. “That I could maybe learn how to hunt smaller prey,” Patton finished and wished he knew when to shut up.

Wyatt didn’t respond. Fear filled Patton. He bit his lip and fought back a wash of tears. He hoped Wyatt wouldn’t judge him. God, he hoped that with his whole being. The gun club loomed in front of them. Patton could see people milling in and around the property, doing the same kind of tasks that his family was doing around the hotel.

“That’s very honorable of you,” Wyatt finally said as they crossed onto the gun club’s property. “I know you want to help David more than anything. And you want to find where you belong. But Patton, I want to be crystal clear. Under no circumstances will you be allowed to shoot a gun when we get to the club.”

At the beginning of Wyatt’s speech, Patton felt as though the Marine understood him. That maybe he and Wyatt were talking about the same thing. But at the end, Patton’s hopes plummeted. Wyatt saw through him, and Wyatt still thought of him as a young child who shouldn’t be allowed to do dangerous things, even though they lived in a dangerous world. The ache inside of Patton’s stomach—the fire that had dulled to a few simmering coals during the walk—roared to life.

“Why?” Patton eeked out, knowing that if he dared say more, that anger might come out as screaming.

“I can’t give you permission to do so,” Wyatt said, as though it were the simplest explanation in the world. “I’m not your father. You didn’t get Matthew’s express permission. Plus, I’m getting the feeling you played both of us and that you were going to go to the gun club not to make friends, but figure out how to get a gun. That means that you don’t respect the rules. You don’t respect the weapon. And you don’t respect the sport. Your intentions are honorable, but you need to make sure that your actions match them. Right now, they don’t.”

They walked up the road to the front entrance. Wyatt raised his hand to knock on the door, but then turned to Patton. “You’ll always be welcome here,” he said. “If you need to get away from your family or need some space or even a change of scenery. I want this place to be part of your home, just as I am starting to see the hotel as part of my home as well. But I can’t let you touch or shoot a gun until you talk to your father about what you just told me. Lying or playing mind games isn’t going to get you anywhere. You need to come clean about what you really want and how you really want to go about doing it. Does that make sense?”

The anger blazed inside of Patton until he felt as though he couldn’t stand to be around Wyatt anymore. Yet that anger had no outlet and so all he could do was nod. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have tried to do that.”

“Okay,” Wyatt said. “I’m not going to talk to your father about this. Let’s just do what we came here to do, and I’ll introduce you to some of the boys here. How’s that sound? This can stay between you and me.”

“Thanks,” Patton said, even though he felt he had to force the words out. “That would be nice.”

13

The door swung open and Wyatt ushered Patton inside. Patton stared at the ground and nothing else, except for the details of the rough carpet that soon transitioned into linoleum as he followed Wyatt. He counted the black rubber scuff marks on the floor and the layer of dried dirt that told him someone would have to clean soon. The shame of being outed by Wyatt mixed with the ache in his stomach. It wasn’t until Wyatt opened one of the doors to a big conference-looking room that Patton noticed a group of teenagers inside. They all looked up at them in unison.

“Hi there,” Wyatt told the teenagers with a wave. “Just have to grab…ah, there it is.” He reached into a green metal cabinet, pulling out long thick white rope and pulley system. “Needed the block and tackle for the well restoration.” He motioned toward Patton. “This is Patton from the River Rock Hotel. Keep an eye on him, okay? I’ll be back later to collect him. Make him feel welcome.” He urged Patton toward the group and then eased away, shutting the door gently.

Patton shoved his hands in his pockets. The teenagers stared at him, and he awkwardly stared back. There were two of them working at the long fold-out table. Patton perked up when he saw the familiar shine of rifle barrels dismantled and opened on a set of towels. The smell of cleaning supplies and gun oil filled his nostrils.

“What are you doing?” Patton asked, taking a couple of steps closer.

“Cleaning guns,” the older-looking teenager said. He was a skinny kid, probably around sixteen, with dark curly hair and a dark complexion. He shoved a slender rod down the barrel of one of the rifles, moving it up and down. Black sprinkles fell from the end of the barrel and onto the towel underneath it.

Patton took another step forward. “That’s cool. Do you have to clean the guns every time you go shooting?”

It was obvious he was fishing, but the teenager gave him a crooked smile and said, “I mean, not every time, but these rifles haven’t been cleaned in a while. They’re old and had been decommissioned, but since the world is falling apart, we had to bring them back out.”

“We’re doing chores,” one of the other younger teenagers said. Patton figured they were around the same age.

“Have you guys been shooting for a while?” Patton said.

The older teenager snorted. “Yeah, my whole life. I’m Marshall,” he said and then indicated the younger kid. “That’s Zach.”

“Do you give lessons?” Patton asked.

Marshall’s crooked smile increased. “Sure. We can ask Wyatt to set something up when he comes back.”

“We don’t need to bother him,” Patton said. “It would probably be easier if you guys just taught me.”

Marshall glanced at Zach. “Maybe,” Marshall said, “if you help us with our chores we’ll get done faster.”

Patton stood closer to the table and put his hands flat on the surface. “Sure. What are you doing?”

“Told you,” Marshall said. “Cleaning guns.”

He pulled out the rod and Patton saw that there were actually bristles along the edge. It looked like a pipe cleaner. He handed the rod to Patton and nudged one of the rifles closer to him. A pile of rags sat next to a bottle of oil. “You want to oil the hinges, joints, and hammers,” Marshall said and showed Patton how to make sure all the pieces of the gun gleamed. Dark smudges marred the rags, showing Patton how dirty the guns actually were.

“Then you want to put the rod down the barrel and try to get all the gunpowder and dirt and grime that’s in there out. It will fall on the towel.” Marshall demonstrated.

Patton nodded and began to do what he’d been instructed, watching the other teenagers out of the corner of his eye to make sure he wasn’t doing anything wrong. They worked in silence. Slowly, Patton began to relax. It felt like being back in school and focused on a project, and yet there was a sensation of unity, all the same.

“So, why don’t you want Wyatt to know you want to shoot?” Marshall said.

Patton sighed. “I don’t have permission, but my dad doesn’t have any time to teach me.” He shoved the rod down the barrel harder. “No one has time to teach me. I need to learn so I can help hunt for my family. I can’t sit around and do nothing.”

Marshall nodded in understanding. “I get that. Ever since the EMP, my old man hasn’t been around much either. It’s annoying having to wait for everyone to teach you to do stuff when all of a sudden we have to be adults all on our own.”

“Right?” Patton said. “No one wants to help me. I keep getting brushed off and forced to do stuff like gardening. I don’t want to garden. I want to learn how to hunt.”

Marshall made another noise of understanding, and they continued for a while in silence, cleaning the rest of the guns with a couple of jokes here and there accompanied by low laughter. After a while, Marshall said, “I think we can check out the shooting range after this. If you’ll help us out with more of our chores.” Marshall raised an eyebrow.

“Of course,” Patton said, knowing a good deal when he saw one. “I wouldn’t mind helping out.”

Marshall smiled. “Yeah, okay, let’s go.”

Together they walked outside, past the rudimentary gardens and over a small slope. There was a line of wire fence along with smaller wooden benches that overlooked the enclosed shooting range. Old shot-up targets had been lined up on wooden boards, and Marshall walked out to one and tacked up a piece of shiny paper with a red target symbol on it. The edges flapped in the wind. Patton was excited about what was going to happen, but that excitement died inside when Marshall handed him an empty rifle.

“We can’t actually shoot,” he said with a sad shrug. “It will make too much noise and draw attention. Then we’d all get in trouble for shooting without telling anyone.”

“Plus, we have to conserve bullets,” Zach said, finally seeming to warm to Patton enough to speak.

“But you can do some dry firing here,” Marshall continued. “Get to know your way around the gun so when you can actually shoot, it won’t be unfamiliar.”

“Thanks,” Patton said, trying not to sound disappointed, but he understood. He didn’t want to get his new allies in trouble either. “But don’t you guys have way more ammo than we do at the hotel?”

“Yeah, we do,” Zach admitted, “and we can make more.”

“How do you make more?” Patton asked.

“We have a press to produce it,” Zach explained

“Wyatt put a limit on how many people could shoot for practice. We have to save as much of our supplies as possible for hunting expeditions in case things go wrong.” Marshall shrugged. “But this is good experience for you. And it shouldn’t get us in trouble if we get caught. Maybe if you have any talent, we can let you fire one for real.”

“Good point,” Patton said and took the gun from Marshall with the same kind of respect that Jade had taught him. He raised it to his shoulder and looked through the stock, waiting until the targets came into view. He remembered this whole thing from when he’d practiced with Jade. It was easy listening to the safety click off. Then, he hooked his finger around the trigger. The trigger put up little resistance as he pulled it and heard the satisfying click as he dry-fired.

“Stance is a little off,” Zach noted.

Marshall helped adjust Patton’s legs, before letting Patton dry fire again. It felt as though no time at all had passed when Zach nudged Marshall and asked, “Think we can risk it?”

“Yeah, totally,” Marshall said and reached into his pockets. He pulled out three bullets and handed them to Patton.

“Really?” Patton asked, feeling mischievous.

“Yeah,” Marshall said. “Get at it. Targets are up and everything. Let’s see how good you really are.”

Patton loaded the gun with ease and then prepared to shoot. Silence fell over him as he adjusted his stance and carefully aimed and fired. The first bullet hit the target closest to him. Not straight in the middle, but he was still in the realm of the red circle. The next shot slammed into the mid-range target, blowing the paper up and leaving a nice hole just off center from the red center mark. Patton aimed and fired one third and final time at the target farthest from him, and while he missed, he still felt that rush of success.

Marshall whistled. “I’m impressed. You’ve got the touch.”

Patton grinned. Zach slapped him on the back. Patton lowered the gun, clicked the safety on, and turned to see the same grin reflected on the faces of his brand-new friends.

“We’ll get you ready to hit that far-away target in no time. You’re a natural,” Zach said.

Patton handed the gun to Marshall, who looked ready to take his turn at shooting, when the fence rattled suddenly. Patton spun around to see Wyatt, his face drawn with anger.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Wyatt demanded.

Marshall, holding the gun, shrugged. Not a hint of their rule-breaking crossed his face. “Just showing off to Patton a bit,” he said.

Patton schooled his face to mimic Marshall’s. They had to pretend they hadn’t done anything wrong. None of them wanted to get into trouble. Wyatt glared at him.

“I didn’t touch anything,” Patton said in response to Wyatt’s look. “I only watched.”

“Really,” Wyatt said, giving him a look of disdain. “Let me smell your hands.”

“Why?” Patton asked.

“If you haven’t touched anything, then you won’t smell like gunshot residue,” Wyatt said, holding his hand out for Patton. Patton wanted to wrench his hands behind his back, but if he did that, it would appear suspicious. He put his hand in Wyatt’s, and Wyatt sniffed his palm. His eyes narrowed, and he glared at Marshall and Zach. “Smells like bore cleaner,” he said to the teenagers.

“Oh, yeah. We did have him help us clean the guns,” Zach said. “Then he wanted to see what it was like to shoot out on the range. But we didn’t let him shoot.”

Wyatt sighed and stood up. “Just so you all know, Patton isn’t allowed on the range without my permission. He needs permission from his father, too. He’s not allowed to touch any of the guns, either. Okay?”

Marshall and Zach nodded. Patton kept his mouth shut and just looked at Wyatt, daring him to say anything else.

“C’mon, Patton,” Wyatt said. “Let’s head out. It’s getting late and we need to get you back to the hotel.”

“You need someone to walk you back?” Zach teased Patton.

“Yes, he does,” Wyatt said and motioned Patton to follow. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

Patton glanced at his new friends and watched as Marshall winked at him while Zach rolled his eyes. He had new friends who would watch his back and would help him become an expert marksman in the future. This crappy day had turned into a good one, after all.

14

Kathleen unscrewed a new bottle of water and handed it to David. While he took a couple of sips, she popped open a yellow bottle and shook out a rounded pill into her palm. It clanked against those that remained inside, and she tried to suppress the feeling of panic that rose within her. Even though they had enough for the time being, soon there wouldn’t be any more.

David swallowed the medicine and chased it down with another drink of water. His hands shook. He appeared wan and listless. As David lay back down on his mountain of pillows, he stared out the window, ignoring Kathleen like she wasn’t even there. His eyes fluttered, heavy with sleep. A sunbeam crossed his face, showing the exhaustion that deepened the lines around his mouth. Kathleen screwed the caps on both the water and pill bottle and handed both across the bed to Nikki. Nikki stuck the water on the nightstand and slipped the pill bottle into the drawer. She let out a sharp sigh, breaking Kathleen’s study of David. Kathleen knew the doctor felt the same worry that she did, but for some reason, this time she wasn’t able to push down the fear and forget about it.

“He seems to be doing better,” Kathleen said, needing some kind of validation. Something to cling onto, some kind of reassurance.

Nikki smiled tightly, picking up on Kathleen’s lie, as she turned and began folding a set of clean pillow cases. “Yes, he’s doing better for now,” she whispered.

Sleep finally fully overtook David, sending him into a deep slumber. Usually, the sight didn’t bother her, but it was beginning to unnerve her with how quickly it happened. The speed at which he went from consciousness to unconsciousness seemed to have increased and happened more and more. It was as if David’s body was so desperate for rest, that whenever it got the opportunity, it wrapped David up in a cocoon and took him away. His mouth became slack and his breathing intensified into a heavy wheeze.

“For now?” Kathleen said, desperate to get her thoughts aired out. “Nikki, won’t he get better? Shouldn’t he be getting better?”

The silence stretched between them and made Kathleen want to cry. The fact that Nikki wasn’t following up with a scientific medical explanation told Kathleen more than she cared to admit. Nikki continued folding the newly washed pillow cases as if to avoid the question. She lined up the edges of the laundry as a grim expression crossed her face. “He was doing better,” Nikki admitted. “He is doing better. He’s responding well to the heart medications we retrieved from the hospital.”

“Shouldn’t that mean things will look up? Why does he seem so weak?”

“We’ve been giving him a higher dosage of beta blockers and another kind of ACE inhibitors. They control his blood pressure and most likely have slowed plaque buildup in his arteries. But these medicines are preventative. They aren’t a magic cure that will erase whatever is blocking his heart. Modern medicine is a miracle, yes, but right now, we only have so much of it left. And when it runs out it’s unlikely that we’ll be able to find more.”

Kathleen swallowed hard and tried to blink back tears. She couldn’t look anywhere but at David. This second heart attack had doused some of the fire inside of him. He wasn’t bouncing back as he had the first time. She hated being in this situation, hated that this was the world that they lived in, hated that David was lying in this bed. She hated everything right at that moment.

“I’ve been cutting back on his dosages little by little, in all honesty,” Nikki continued. “Frankly, I’m scared of running out. I think it’s better if we start weaning him off, rather than have him go cold turkey all at once. But weaning him off the medications will have consequences. His weakening state is one of those side effects.”

“Will he keep getting worse, then?” Kathleen asked. “Will he always be like this?”

Nikki bit her lip and shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t predict that. Under normal circumstances, he’d most likely need a stent to open up the artery. Cardiac bypass might be his only solution, but that’s something I cannot do to him. I’m not a surgeon. I’m inexperienced in that field of medicine. There’s no way I can safely put him under and then crack his chest open and expose his heart. He would be at risk of bleeding out, or even in danger of a massive infection that would kill him. I can’t have that on my conscience. I can’t risk his life like that in an attempt that probably won’t work. Do no harm.” Nikki looked agonized at her admission. “I hate to say that, but the best solution is, at the same time, the most dangerous one. It would kill him. I’d rather do everything else we can.”

“I understand,” Kathleen said, even as a ball of ice formed in the pit of her stomach. Hearing it out loud made everything more real. In her head, she told David that, in no uncertain terms, he had to live. For Matthew. For her children. For Ruth.

“The best thing we can do is stretch out his medication for as long as possible,” Nikki finished.

“What kind of things should we expect?” Kathleen asked, thinking about all the kinds of things that could go wrong. She wanted to be prepared, but at the same time, she didn’t want anything to happen that wasn’t expected.

“He’ll probably continue to get weaker, which might lead to a strong emotional response. He’s not good at feeling helpless,” Nikki said, studying David with sad determination. “His blood pressure will increase, and maybe he’ll feel as if his heart is racing, or he might not feel anything at all. These things can be different for everyone.”

“Is there any chance he will get better?” Kathleen asked, feeling like a broken record. She just wished Nikki’s answers would be different. Tears pricked at her eyes. Her throat felt tight.

“Of course,” Nikki said in a low vehement way. “I shouldn’t have unloaded on you like that, but you’ve become my nurse in a way.” Nikki smiled and Kathleen saw she had tears in her eyes as well. “There is always hope. We should always hope.”

“Everything feels so useless without modern medicine,” Kathleen said angrily and forced herself to stare outside at the blue sky and the sharp mountain ridges in a detached way. Everything seemed so far away from the real problems affecting them inside the sickroom. “Everything feels so hopeless.”

“I know,” Nikki said, “but we can’t let that bring us down.”

“It’s not just David,” Kathleen continued. “What happens if there is an accident while Matthew and the rest of the gun club are fixing the well? What if one of them falls and cracks their head? What if someone breaks their leg? God, what if they step on a nail? We don’t have vaccines. We have to think about stuff like tetanus.”

Another terrible thought hit her. A thought about women and men. About her daughter who was starting to become a young woman. “What if one of the women gets pregnant?” she asked, hating that her voice was getting breathy with worry. “Women used to die all the time in childbirth. What if we have to do a caesarean? Who among us actually can act as a midwife and help birth a child without an epidural or, or, like Lamaze classes?”

Kathleen’s heart fluttered in fear and anxiety. Her mind flipped through everything that could go wrong. If she was Nikki’s nurse, she was becoming more knowledgeable about medicine, but she still felt incredibly underqualified in every way. Nikki reached out and took Kathleen’s hands, squeezing tightly. The touch grounded her and stopped the anxiety from taking over. She gripped Nikki’s hand in return and tried to push the idea of broken arms and chicken pox out of her thoughts.

“Medicine has always adapted,” Nikki said, speaking clearly to Kathleen as if delivering a speech and desperately wanting her to believe her words. “Medicine is always changing. We know more, even if we may not be able to use it. We know the reasoning behind certain medical problems and why certain things occur. We know how to be as safe as possible. We just have to learn and adapt as we go. We might not be able to fix the future, but we won’t forget everything from the past. We can and will do better. We have to adapt, just like people did before the days of vaccines and epidurals and yes, sure, even Lamaze classes.” Nikki chuckled.

Kathleen swallowed hard, feeling comforted. “But what if we fail?” she asked.

“We will fail,” Nikki said. “It won’t be perfect.”

“But we will do our best,” Kathleen finished for her, and her eyes skirted back to look at David. “I just hope we can adapt fast enough to help David in the long run.”

“Me too,” Nikki said. “I know we can. He will be okay. Like I said, hope is never useless. It’s the most important thing we have.”

The door opened. Ruth walked in with a couple of bowls balanced on a tray. She smiled at the two other women, but then glanced at David. Her small smile faded, replaced by the same fear that Kathleen had been living with ever since David had had his second heart attack.

For a moment, Kathleen thought about taking Ruth aside and breaking the hard truth to her. She knew that Ruth needed small tasks to keep her focused without falling into melancholy while sitting and watching David. Kathleen knew how helpless and overwhelmed she felt, based on how many times she herself sat at David’s bedside. Yet Ruth deserved to know.

Would Kathleen want to know if it were her children in agony or pain? Would Kathleen want to know if Matthew was slowly fading away from her? Would Ruth’s hope be doused if Kathleen had that hard chat with her?

Kathleen glanced at Nikki, the conversation still fresh in the room, and watched as Nikki met her eyes. Kathleen shook her head slightly and Nikki nodded in agreement. They didn’t need to share what they talked about with Ruth. Ruth didn’t need that on her mind. Not now. Kathleen needed to remember that hope was a fragile flame and they needed to keep it stoked for as long as possible.

15

For the rest of the week Patton felt as if he spent more time at the gun club than at the hotel.

He’d wake up early, complete his chores, and then sneak over to the gun club where he’d meet up with Marshall and Zach before they headed out to the shooting range. Their crew of three had grown to four, adding an older teenager named Justin, who had the cool swagger that all eighteen-year-olds possessed. Justin had taken Patton under his wing and helped him hone his shooting accuracy while Marshall helped him become even more familiar with how to handle a weapon. Zach knew how to make them laugh. Patton kept improving day by day, feeling like when he picked up the gun it was slowly becoming a close friend or trusted tool, instead of a strange weapon.

Zach grabbed a new handful of paper targets and ran out toward the posts to hang them up. The stack of fresh targets was getting smaller by the week, while those piling up on the posts now fluttered in the wind. He turned and gave them a thumbs-up before running back toward them.

“We should actually try to go hunting,” Marshall said, nudging Justin, while Patton waited for Zach to get clear behind them before he took careful aim and fired.

“Nice shot,” Justin said to Patton. “You could take down anything. We should definitely see if we can get a deer. What do you say?”

Patton couldn’t hide his smile. “You know it. I’m down to take down something fresh.”

“Something fresh?” Zach laughed. “It’s all gonna be fresh!”

“I mean I want to get something that I don’t need to preserve or salt, you know? Something that we can eat right away and none of it will go to waste. Something lean,” Patton said.

“Like what?” Marshall said. “A sparrow? A chipmunk?”

“A rabbit,” Patton explained, thinking of his grandfather, who seemed to be asleep whenever Patton dropped by to check in on him.

“Why would you ever want to shoot a rabbit?” Justin said. “We only have so many bullets. Wouldn’t it be better if we tried to take down some big game, instead? We’d get way more out of a deer than a rabbit. A deer would feed more people than a rabbit.”

“You guys can target whatever you want,” Patton said, nonchalant, “but I’m going for a rabbit.”

“But why?” Marshall asked, slipping his hands in his pockets and raising an eyebrow at Patton. “A deer is a way bigger target anyway. We probably wouldn’t have to waste as much time finding a herd as we would locating a rodent. It makes way more sense to focus on finding a deer.”

Patton handed Marshall the rifle and shrugged. “You’re right. A deer might be easier, and it might feed more people, and sure it might take less bullets, but we know that something like a rabbit is better for your heart. We need to have food diversity in our diet. If we don’t want to all be eating the same thing over and over and stay healthy.”

Marshall and Justin exchanged glances. Zach coughed into his hand and said, “Makes sense. Doesn’t that make sense, Justin?”

“Sure does,” Justin said softly. “We can make it a competition. Whoever takes down the rabbit first wins.”

“What are we going to win?” Zach asked.

“Glory,” Justin said with a nod and motioned them inside.

“Thanks, guys,” Patton said with a genuine smile crossing his face as they walked back to the gun club. “Let’s meet in the morning at dawn, yeah? We can meet behind the woods. And you should all be worried. Now that I’m an expert marksman, that glory will be all mine.”

“Okay, sure,” Zach said as they walked into the main room, and got himself a drink of water at the water cooler sitting on the front table near the entrance. “But will you be able to escape the family? I know you need permission to do everything.”

Patton rolled his eyes and picked up a deck of cards. “Yes, The family won’t be none the wiser. I’ll be there. Like I said, all the glory will be mine. I’ll take down the biggest rabbit of them all.” He took the cards out and began shuffling them as the rest of the boys sat down at the table. “Poker?”

“You’re just trying to hide from Wyatt,” Marshall said with a grin, but it was without malice. They all knew they had to cover their tracks so that Wyatt or no other adult tattled on them. Patton still didn’t have permission from his parents, and it took all of them to make sure Patton didn’t get in trouble and could still come back to the gun club. The sun was getting low, though, and Wyatt would be coming for him sooner rather than later. Playing poker seemed like a safe and plausible act for them all to do. Patton began to deal the cards, and the rest of the boys eyed the front door, waiting for Wyatt to walk through it.

Within moments, a series of poundings came from the other side of the front door. It wasn’t the secret pattern that everyone at the gun club knew that would gain them admittance to the club, but rather a frantic knocking. The man sitting guard at the door looked up from his paperback novel and glanced out the window. As if recognizing the person outside, he stood up and opened the door.

Another person burst through, who looked dirty with sweat and exertion. He grabbed the arm of the door guard, and Patton could see the newcomer’s hands shaking uncontrollably. “I need to see Wyatt,” the man said, his voice slightly high-pitched and scared. “Where is he? I need to see him.”

“Wyatt isn’t here, Darren,” the door guard said, his eyes wide as he tried to steady the newcomer.

“Who’s in charge, then?” Darren demanded, wiping the sweat off his forehead and slicking his dirty hair back behind his ear. “I need to make a trade. I need bullets, and I can trade scrap metal for it. You know I’m good for it, Barney. You know I can give you all the scrap metal I have, but I need some bullets.”

Patton glanced around the room at the other members of the gun club. Barney looked concerned, as if the erratic behavior of this Darren was really scaring him. One of the women who was reading a book at the other end of the table also looked alarmed. Another man stood in the hallway, watching the events, as if ready to step in if things got heated. Patton was glad he wasn’t the only one unnerved by what was going on. Justin glanced over his shoulder at the guy and Patton could see how tense his shoulders were, as if Justin was ready to get into a fight too.

“Maybe you should go, Darren,” Barney said, trying to turn Darren around and gently push him out the door. “Lie down. Get some rest. Relax a little bit. We don’t need any scrap metal at the moment. Wyatt already has a trading partner for our excess bullets.”

“You’re doing business with strangers?” Darren demanded. “Who are you doing business with? That’s crappy. I’ve known you for a while and now you’re doing business with someone else? And you call yourself friends and part of Galena.”

“Listen, I don’t know where this is coming from, but you’re acting crazy. Go home. Come back when you’re in a better state of mind,” Barney said.

“I can’t go home,” Darren said, grabbing the door guard’s shirt and pushing him further into the gun club. His voice rose in panic. “I need bullets. Don’t you get it? I need them. You have to give them to me. You have to.”

“I don’t have to give you anything,” Barney said, his own anger starting to come through as he pushed back against Darren. “Get your hands off me. You need to get out of here. You’re not welcome here anymore. You can’t come in here and demand things from us.”

“I need them,” Darren screeched, making the hair on the nape of Patton’s neck rise in worry as he watched the man in the hallway walk closer. “You will give them to me. You will. You will!”

The man in the hallway strode forward and took the rifle that was sitting next to Patton’s elbow. The man took it, clicked off the safety with a sharp sound and aimed the gun at Darren. “I think it’s better if you leave,” the man said. “Leave this place and get out of here. Don’t come back.”

Sweat shone on Darren’s cheeks. Patton swore he could see the whites of his eyes. He looked as if he’d been whipped into a frenzy, and Patton would’ve bet money that if a gun wasn’t involved, Darren would have been throwing punches. He backed out, wiping his hands down his thighs. He left the gun club without another word, bolting down the pathway at a dead run as if dogs were after him.

“Geez,” Patton said, looking at Zach. “What was that all about?”

“I don’t know,” Zach said with a shrug as the gun club member flipped the safety on and set the gun back down next to Patton. “That was really weird.”

Within half an hour, Wyatt returned. As Barney let him inside, Patton looked up from his cards. Barney pulled Wyatt aside and said, “Darren was here.”

Wyatt looked confused. “Did something happen?”

“He’s gone off the rails!” Barney said, as if finally being able to get the situation off of his chest. “He came in here acting wild. Wanting bullets in exchange for spare metal. He was acting…well, you know what he can be like.”

Wyatt frowned for a moment and looked concerned, digesting what he’d heard. Patton watched him, trying to figure out what Wyatt was going to do next. “If Darren shows up again,” he said, “hold him here until I get back, okay? He shouldn’t be acting like that. Especially with kids around.”

Patton glanced at his friends and watched them share the same thoughts. Even though they were younger, they were able to hear a lot of things adults tried to hide from them. Patton would be investigating who this Darren person was, and if he came back to harm anyone at the gun club, well, that wouldn’t stand. Not in his book.

“Hey, Patton,” Wyatt called out to him. “Ready to head back to the hotel?”

Patton threw his cards down. He had been planning on bluffing that round. He didn’t have anything good in his hand anyway. Better to give up now and wait for his luck to change. “Later, guys,” he said and his friends mumbled similar goodbyes, subdued by the earlier events. Patton stood, and Wyatt beckoned him over so they could walk back to the River Rock Hotel.

16

The sun hadn’t risen yet, but the stars had begun to disappear as the sky transitioned from a dark, rich navy to a lighter blue. The crescent moon provided enough light for Patton to sneak out of his bedroom, pad down the hallways, and ease out of the front door. Even though in the pit of his stomach he knew he was doing something that would get him in trouble, he was doing it all for the greater good. He could handle having his mom yell at him, or the stern look from his father, or even the annoyed sigh from his sister. He couldn’t handle seeing his grandfather eat another bite of salted venison. This was the best chance Patton had to provide for his grandpa. No one else could do it but him.

Dad was obsessed with getting the well working for Grandpa. Allison was helping create a garden for Grandpa. This contribution was going to be Patton’s.

As he snuck off the property and walked into the woods to where he would meet the other boys from the gun club, his mind didn’t wander. His imagination didn’t take over to tell him a story to help pass the time, or craft him into a place that was bigger and better than where he was. He knew he had to be in the moment. He had to be a hundred percent present to help save his grandfather.

He saw Zach, Justin, and Marshall waiting for him at the edge of a small meadow with their guns braced against their shoulders. Crap. He didn’t want to be the last one here, but he had to make sure none of the family was awake or they might have noticed him. Ugh. The family.

“I see you got away without alerting the authorities.” Zach flashed a grin and handed him the second rifle he held.

Patton knew Zach was teasing him, so he didn’t rise to the bait and just rolled his eyes instead. “I’m not pairing off with him,” Patton said to the other boys, “if he’s gonna keep yakking the whole time. We won’t be able to take down anything.”

Marshall and Justin snickered. Zach punched Patton’s shoulder. Patton smiled as he rubbed where Zach had hit.

Justin waved Patton over. “You’re with me, newbie,” he said. “We’re going to cross the meadow, and these two jokers are going to go the other way. If any of us gets something, we’ll hear the gunshots and meet up with the other group. Otherwise, we have to be as quiet as possible.”

“Sounds good,” Patton said as Justin motioned for him to follow him across the meadow. As they left Marshall and Zach heading off in the other direction, Patton tried to follow the instructions and be as quiet as possible, but the night unnerved him. The moonlight shone down over the meadow in beams of silver, illuminating the early morning dew. The sky had lightened even more. Crickets called out here and there. Birds sang and cooed. Sure, when he thought about it, it might sound soothing, but in reality, it felt as though everything out there knew he was coming. Every time he heard something, or imagined he heard something, it put him on edge. He wasn’t sure if he should be aiming at the sounds or if he should be stopping to listen more closely, but Justin hadn’t shifted focus. If Patton was going to get one thing right, it was that he planned to follow Justin’s actions to a tee.

Even though the sounds of the forest seemed loud, Patton felt as if he was the loudest thing of all. His steps sounded like a stomping Godzilla-monster. The swish of his pants and his jacket sounded synthetic and out of place among the natural sounds of the forest. He was definitely a lumbering creature, uncoordinated compared to the game he was hunting.

Once they cleared the meadow and headed deeper into the woods, he and Justin walked for a good twenty minutes through the trees. Patton felt as if he’d transformed into a bumbling toddler. If anything, he sounded louder than ever. Sticks and underbrush crunched beneath his feet. Branches snagged his coat jacket. God, did his breathing really sound that heavy?

Soon enough, Justin motioned him behind a fallen log covered in moss and lichen. Together, they settled in to wait. After a moment, Patton desperately wanted to fill the silence with conversation, but he knew by Justin’s face that small talk was strictly out. The silence stretched. Nothing moved. Nothing changed. He was beginning to think that this was all a waste of time until one of the bushes down the way shook and rattled gently. A big brown rabbit hopped out and sat for a moment, wiggling its pink nose. The small tufted tail twitched.

Patton’s breath caught as he studied the bunny. No, it was too big to be just a bunny. It hopped closer to them and Patton moved his gun gently up to his eye and settled it in place, ready to take the animal down. He heard a quiet swish of movement beside him and saw that Justin was doing the same thing, only faster and better.

No. This couldn’t be a gun club kill. Patton had to do this. This was his game and he would be the one to take it down. He took aim, jostling Justin’s shoulder enough that Justin squawked in shocked frustration. Patton sighted down, refusing to give himself time to second-guess himself. The rabbit wiggled in his line of sight for a bare moment before Patton pulled the trigger.

The gunshot broke the silence like a thunderclap. Justin yelped and jumped. Patton felt as if he’d leapt out of his skin as the rifle’s recoil jolted his shoulder. Out of nowhere, Patton felt shame overwhelm him. He was certain he had just wildly shot into the woods without properly doing everything he had been taught. He’d probably disappointed Justin. Worse, he had probably missed.

But when the rabbit collapsed to the ground in front of him, joy and success chased the shame away.

“Holy crap,” Justin said, his eyes as wide as quarters. “Nice shot.”

“I did it,” Patton whispered under his breath, more to himself than to Justin. “I got it.”

“You did,” Justin said, somewhat still in shock. “That was fast.”

Justin jumped up, walked to the edge of the woods and whistled, but Patton knew that the Marshall and Zach were probably on their way to them right now. The gunshot had been too loud. The rabbit lay on the ground, twitching for a while until it finally went still.

Justin and Patton waited at their post until Marshall and Zach came into view. Patton stood up. His face broke into a victorious grin. He pointed at the rabbit. “I got it!” he said.

Marshall and Zach approached him and patted him on the back, all congratulations and joy. They eased closer to the rabbit, and Patton leaned down to look at the first animal he’d taken down. The rabbit looked even bigger up close with soft fur mottled white and brown. It was a good kill. It would help feed his grandfather for a day or two at least, especially if they doled out the meat carefully and didn’t waste it in a salt-filled stew.

“Heck yes! I can’t wait to show this off at the gun club,” Zach said. “It’s huge!”

“I took it down,” Patton said, suddenly defensive. “I’m taking it back to the hotel.”

“What? No way,” Zach said. “Why would you do that?”

“’Cause I took it down,” Patton said. “It’s my kill.”

“You took it down with gun club bullets and weaponry,” Zach said.

“I need to take it back to the hotel,” Patton insisted.

“Why?” Zach said.

“It’s for my grandfather. Look, we can take everything else we get today back to the gun club, but I want to keep this rabbit for my own.”

“You want to take it to the family?” Zach asked. The teasing was back in his voice, but this time it sounded meaner and more pointed.

Patton tried to act seriously. Don’t take the bait. “Yes, I do. Everything else goes to the gun club. This goes with me.”

“Give it to him,” Justin said, shoving Zach in the shoulder. “Patton shot it. He earned it. Let him take it back. Was this really your first kill?”

“First hunt, actually,” Patton said.

Justin reached down and grabbed the rabbit, holding it out to Patton. “It’s yours, then. Take it. Looks like you’re a man now, being able to provide for your family like this.”

Patton grinned. “Thank you.”

“Now here comes the real question,” Justin said. “Do you know how to field dress it?”

Patton shook his head. “Is that something I should do?”

Justin snorted and took the rabbit back from Patton. He laid the animal on its back on the ground, while taking a knife out of his pocket and flipping it open. Pushing apart the four legs and exposing the fuzzy stomach, Justin gave the knife to Patton. “Okay, the first thing you’re going to do is make an incision in the stomach by bunching up the loose skin. You don’t want to puncture the casing that’s surrounding the organs or it will spoil the meat.”

Zach snickered. “This is like, for children.”

“Patton’s never done it before. He should know,” Justin said and showed how to bunch the skin up. “If you didn’t have a knife, you could do this with a sharp stick. Rabbit skin is really thin.”

Patton bit his lip and tried to be brave. He knelt down, determined to do what Justin instructed. He bunched up the skin and taking a deep breath, he made the cut.

“Good. Once you’ve made the cut, you want to open it up with two fingers. It will feel like making a hole in fabric bigger. You know, that ripping-tearing feeling? You want to open up the slit as far as possible so we can strip the whole hide off.”

Patton did so, the rabbit’s heat making his fingers feel as though they were on fire. Blood sprinkled across his hands. His whole body quivered with nerves. This was his first time doing this, but he didn’t want to show weakness. He had to do this. For Grandpa.

He pulled the skin, and it parted easily.

“Keep going,” Justin said.

Patton did so. As the rabbit skin stretched apart closer to the head and feet, the furred pelt separated naturally until he could see the pale pink body underneath. He studied the thin ribs and the encased organs with morbid fascination.

“Okay, so now that you’re at the feet, you have to be firm. Tug it like you’re trying to get off a pair of extra tight shoes,” Justin said. “You’re doing great.”

Patton bit his lip and gently yanked on the hind legs, feeling strong resistance before the fur finally made a pop and the paws slid out. It was such a strange sensation, as if he were removing the rabbit’s clothes rather than its fur. Justin guided him through cutting off the paws and the tail, and then helped him twist the head off with a final sharp stroke of the knife. Patton was left with the rabbit’s pink body.

“Okay, now we need to cut out the organs,” Justin instructed. “You have to be really careful. There’s still a chance you could puncture something and spoil the meat.” Justin pointed his finger above the rabbit’s stomach. “Cut here.”

Patton did so, and the blood-red organs were suddenly exposed. Steam rose from them. Patton snipped the casing and then scooped out the organs. He laid them down in the grass. Then he stripped off any remaining organ casing until he had a compact body in front of him. Cleaned, gutted, and ready for eating. A rush of strength and bravery filled Patton all at once.

“Great job,” Justin said, standing up on his feet. “If you can tie the legs to your belt loops, your hands will be free. Now that we’ve got the lean meat out of the way, let’s go take down something bigger.”

“Sounds good,” Patton said. He was satisfied and found himself thrilled after the high of the hunt. He had brought down game all on his own. Somehow, he felt as if he’d graduated and had left his boyhood behind. Like Justin said, he was a man now.

“We should stick together this time,” Marshall said. “I don’t want to be traipsing back and forth across the woods, man.”

“You’re such a baby,” Justin said.

“I just don’t wanna have to walk so much,” Marshall grumbled. “Hunting deer is way harder than finding a rabbit.”

Patton chuckled. “Whatever, man. I’ll go wherever you guys want to.”

As they walked deeper into the woods, Patton felt as if he could provide for his family now. The rabbit was small, but it was the quality of the meat that was important. He cradled the rabbit in his arms before figuring out how to hang it from his belt, and knew the rabbit was more important than gold.

17

When Patton spotted the River Rock Hotel after the hunt, it sat in a beam of early morning sunlight. The darkness of dawn had drifted away after he had helped the other gun club boys butcher the deer they’d taken down. He had blood under his nails, and his clothes were filthy from stalking the woodland creatures, but he held his skinned rabbit proudly. The slippery body was his contribution to the family. An offering to his grandfather. He couldn’t be more pleased with himself.

Even if all he wanted was to collapse into his bed in exhaustion. Even though the day was just beginning.

Already, he could see people milling about the property doing chores. There were people he didn’t know yet from the gun club and other, familiar faces. Like Allison, who was headed out to her garden plot with her arms full of tools. He wanted to call out to her and show her the rabbit. He felt like a returning warrior showing up to disrupt the generalities of everyone’s normal life with gold in his pockets. He couldn’t wait to hear what his grandfather would say about his first kill.

He didn’t expect to walk into the hotel’s front lobby and see his mother burst into tears at the sight of him.

Not the good tears either. Not the I’m-so-proud tears. These were the I’m-so-relieved-you’re-here tears, the kind that meant he was going to get a stern talking-to when things calmed down. He hoped that they would see the rabbit and realize what he’d done, but it felt as though they didn’t notice his offering at all. His father’s face was flushed with anger, and his blue eyes glittered with frustration and relief. Patton’s hope and excitement crashed to the ground.

“What were you thinking?” Matthew demanded. “Disappearing like that?”

“We didn’t know where you were!” Kathleen sobbed, taking Patton in her arms. He held his rabbit out by the neck so it wouldn’t be squished. Kathleen took Patton’s face between her hands and stared at him as if she hadn’t seen him in years. “Why would you just leave without telling us?”

Shame filled Patton as he glanced between his father’s fury and his mother’s terror. In the back of his mind, sure, he figured they might be annoyed at him, but he figured that the rabbit would smooth everything over. Once they understood.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he said.

“You should be!” Matthew snapped. “We were both terrified when we found out you were missing. After everything that’s happened, you should never have snuck out of the hotel without telling someone.”

“I had to,” Patton said, even as the ache in his stomach began to take root and grow once again. “I went hunting. I took down a rabbit—”

“How did you go hunting?” Matthew demanded. “Who did you go hunting with?”

“The boys at the gun club,” Patton said meekly, feeling like he was betraying his friends. “They’ve been teaching me how to shoot and hunt—”

“All without permission?” Kathleen gasped. “You’ve been shooting guns this whole time?”

“Mom, it was perfectly safe. You’re making it sound as if I did something terrible.”

“You did do something terrible,” Matthew said, even as the front door opened and Wyatt walked in. “You lied to us. You went behind our backs.”

“It was worth it,” Patton said fiercely. He held out his skinned rabbit to them. “Look what I hunted down. I didn’t mean to scare either of you, but I had to do it. I wanted to help Grandpa and get him something that would make him healthy. That’s what you said, Mom. You said if he didn’t get any lean meat in his diet, that it might make his heart worse.”

Kathleen’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean for you to disobey us and leave without telling us. Or start hunting and using guns without our say-so.”

“Mom, I had to.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Matthew said. “No matter what your intentions, the fact of the matter is that you snuck off without letting an adult know where you were. You lied to us about what you were up to at the gun club. You’re grounded from leaving the hotel property. You are forbidden from firing a weapon until we say so.”

Patton’s mouth dropped open in shock. “That’s not fair!”

“I think it’s plenty fair,” Matthew fumed even as he turned his fury onto Wyatt. “And why was he even allowed to touch a gun in the first place? I had your word that Patton would be safe!”

Wyatt’s eyes narrowed at the accusation. “Now listen here, Matt. I don’t want you accusing me of things before you have the whole story. The boys have gotten one over on us while we’ve all been busy with other repair tasks. I didn’t allow a twelve-year-old to shoot a gun without my permission or without supervision. It sounds like Patton convinced the other boys at the gun club to teach him. While I don’t approve of his methods, maybe you should thank those kids for teaching Patton at least how to shoot properly before he took matters into his own hands.”

“Yeah,” Patton said, unsure if Wyatt was actually on his side, but he felt like the tide of anger directed at him might be turning. “They were the best teachers. They took time to show me what to do, unlike you, Dad.”

“Now I’m not supporting Patton in his decisions,” Wyatt said, casting a stern eye on Patton. “But I will admit that now he has the means to protect himself. If someone comes knocking with a goal to kidnap him, I bet that person would think twice.”

Ugh. The ache in Patton’s stomach twisted until hurt. That stupid kidnapping.

“And we should see the bigger picture here, that at least now Patton will be able to assist in hunting and bringing in fresh food supplies for all of us,” Wyatt finished.

“We shouldn’t reward this kind of behavior,” Matthew said.

“I’m not arguing that he shouldn’t be punished for lying and scaring you, but I suppose I can’t condemn him for wanting to be more helpful.” Wyatt shrugged. “You know what it’s like being a boy, Matt. You can’t tell me that you didn’t get into trouble when you were his age. He is becoming a teenager.”

Matthew huffed, but at least Wyatt seemed to have curbed his anger. Patton still didn’t quite get what Wyatt was alluding to. It wasn’t his age that made him do things. He had decided to go hunting for his grandfather all on his own. It wasn’t like his age made him stupid or crazy or rebellious. Patton was trying to help. No, not trying. He did help.

“You can’t keep me inside,” Patton said sullenly. “There’s too much to do around here to ground me to my room.”

Kathleen sighed. “You’re right,” she said. “You can go outside, but do not leave the hotel grounds.”

“Whatever,” Patton snarled, wrenching away from her and slapping the rabbit carcass down on one of the side tables. “Then you’ll have to take this to Grandma and have her fix it up for Grandpa. Don’t worry. I already cleaned it. Something I learned from the boys at the gun club. Not from any of you.”

He spun on his heel and marched out of the hotel, hearing the adults sigh collectively behind him. He hated feeling this way. As he stepped into the sunlight and went around the side, he shoved his hands into his pockets and tried to fight back a wash of tears.

It wasn’t fair. He didn’t get why everyone was being so protective of him. He should be able to do things to help out. Why did they have to treat him like a child?

Rounding the corner, he saw his sister puttering around in the garden. The earth had been turned, the weeds ripped up and placed into a far-off pile. The dirt had been mounded and separated into straight, even lines. Allison ripped open a packet of seeds and shook some into the palm of her hand. Then she started scattering them down the tilled soil. The young woman with the pixie cut was doing the same at the other end of the garden.

Allison would understand why he did what he did. She’d get that he was only trying to help Grandpa. She shared the same fears that he did. He approached his sister, and she glanced up at him, giving him a small smile.

“Nice to see you this morning,” she said off-handedly. “You had Mom and Dad in a panic.”

Patton rolled his eyes. “I was just out hunting,” he said in a rush of anger. “Okay sure, I didn’t tell them that I was going to the gun club to learn to hunt and shoot. But I needed to know how to do that to help our family. I wanted to hunt for rabbits to give to Grandpa. Everyone is just blowing this all out of proportion. They’re treating me like a child. It’s so annoying.”

“Patton, c’mon,” Allison said, bending down to scatter the seeds into the rows. “What did you expect? Of course they’re going to be mad.”

“But I was helping out,” Patton pointed out, hating how whiny his voice had become. “I just wanted to help us.”

“That’s what I’m doing,” Allison countered, gesturing to the newly tilled ground. “I’m helping our family out, and I didn’t need to fire a gun or waste limited bullets to do it. I get that you wanted to help Grandpa, but honestly, are you sure it’s just about that?”

“What do you mean?” Patton asked uneasily.

“I mean, you’ve been through a lot. And I know you don’t like to talk about it”—she cast him a sharp look—“and I’m not saying you have to talk about it. But it feels like maybe you wanting to hunt so bad or fire a gun or kill something might be because you don’t feel powerful enough in your own life at the moment. That maybe, being taken by those jerks made you feel more out of control than you cared to admit.”

Patton fell silent and glared at his sister.

“I’m just saying that by learning how to shoot, you can now handle a gun. It gave you near instant gratification, right? You went out one morning and brought back a dead creature. It’s fast and easy. It’s not like growing a garden. A garden takes time, and it doesn’t look like it’s going to do anything but sit there like a lump of dirt.” Allison poured more seeds into her hands. “But I know I have to be patient. I have to give it time to make something. I think you might get the same satisfaction out of working with me in this garden as you would shooting an animal. What do you think?”

“Maybe,” Patton said, knowing he couldn’t outright agree with Allison, even though he got what she was saying. It was principle that he couldn’t let Allison’s ego get too inflated with her so-called big sister wisdom. But she did have a point.

“We’ll need help once things start growing, to keep animals out of the garden,” Allison said. “Lauren said that deer and rabbits will be drawn to it and try to eat everything. We’ll need to figure out a way to keep them out. I know I’ll definitely need your help. If you want to, that is.”

Patton scuffed his foot against the dirt. “I guess.”

“Thanks,” Allison said with a bright smile. “I promise. You’ll feel just as good when we harvest as you did today.”

“Okay, sure, Allison,” Patton said, wishing he didn’t trust his sister so implicitly, and yet here they were. “Calm down. I’ll help you with your stupid garden.”

“Our stupid garden,” Allison said.

“Our stupid garden,” Patton agreed.

18

David woke from an unexpected nap to the bright shine of mid-morning on his face. He let out a soft sigh. Even though he’d been feeling better over the past few days, there was still the drag of exhaustion dogging his every movement. Now, though, it seemed that bone-deep exhaustion had abated, giving him a moment to breathe before it might all begin to crush him again.

His chest felt normal. His heart didn’t race. The tight band strung around his lungs had loosened. In essence, he felt as he once had before the heart attack. Fragile, but normal.

He’d been given the gift of strength. He didn’t plan on wasting it.

Nikki puttered around the room, doing useless things like monitoring and checking vitals and hovering. Her doom-and-gloom had infected the suite’s four walls. As much as she tried to keep her spirits up around him, David could sense her endless worry over his condition. On one hand, he knew she was fretted about his health. On the other, he wondered if he represented all of her other patients. The ones she’d failed. If she kept him alive, it would mean something.

David pretended to fall back asleep again to avoid useless conversation full of how are we feeling today? until he heard the front door creak open, the shuffle of footsteps out, and the shuffle of new footsteps in.

He cracked an eye open to see his wife ease the door closed behind her. Alone at last. When she turned to him, he saw her face break out in soft pleasure to see him awake and cognizant. Love swelled in his chest. They had been through so much together. Sometimes, he couldn’t imagine his life without her and was happy he would never have to know.

“Were you playing hooky?” she asked.

“Help me get out of this blasted bed,” he said, throwing the cover off. He held his hand out to her.

Ruth took it eagerly even as she shook her head in negation. “You’re not supposed to strain yourself,” she said in a soft voice.

Fear. David smiled at her. She was always so full of fear. “I won’t,” he said. “I know you’re worried about me, but a short walk won’t kill me.”

“A short walk where?” Ruth said sharply.

“Out to the porch,” he said. “If I don’t get some fresh air, I might explode.”

“We could open the window,” Ruth suggested.

David gave her a look. “You know what I mean.”

Ruth sighed, giving in easily. “You’re the worst kind of patient,” she said.

“I know.” David squeezed her hand. “You’re my accomplice. Help me up.”

She leaned closer and eased him up by supporting his back and arms as though he were an ancient china doll that might crumble under the slightest pressure. He wanted to roll his eyes at her, shake her off, leap to his feet, and prove once and for all that he wasn’t weak or failing. Instead, he gritted his teeth and kept his irritation in check. It wouldn’t do to upset her. He knew she was only trying to help. He didn’t know how long he would be able to keep accepting her help, if he was honest.

Once he managed to swing his legs over the side of the bed, Ruth took his elbow and helped him up to his feet. He hated how knobby and shrunken his knees looked. The skin of his thinning arms seemed to hang lifelessly off of him. He’d been bedridden for little over a week, and it seemed as if his strength had been sapped from him. It had been so easy to degrade into this weak shell.

Balancing his weight against Ruth, he stood up. His legs shook. He gave her an encouraging smile. “I can’t wait to get out of this room,” he said.

Ruth chuckled. “It’s always been hard for you to sit still. I would know.”

He wanted to kiss her. How many years had they been in each other’s lives? He’d wished for so many more.

Together, they tottered down the hallway, and David saw everything in a wholly new light. First, he noted the potential of the hotel—something he had sensed when Matthew first showed him the property pictures online. Now, he saw the place not as a commercial effort, but a haven where his son would grow old and his grandchildren would lead completely different lives. He wouldn’t be there for most of it, but with each step on the hardwood floors, he placed wishes into the hotel’s foundation. Wishes for good to all who passed through the hotel and relied on its walls for shelter.

Ruth opened up the front door. A soft breeze whistled through the doorway, washing David’s face in freshness. He took in a deep breath and let out a sigh of relief. The sunlight covered him with radiant warmth. Ruth took his elbow again and helped him out onto the porch. She finally settled him on one of the rockers that sat in the light. He looked out to the jagged mountain peaks surrounding them. All at once, he felt both overwhelmed and strangely at peace that those mountains would be there long after he left this world. They felt like unshakable landmarks.

Ruth sat down next to him in the other chair and scooted it as close as possible to him. He smiled at her. “I wish I was with Matthew looking at the well. I wonder, how it’s going?”

“From what I hear, they’ve figured out a plan on how to proceed. I know Matthew would love to have you there with him.” Ruth squinted into the light.

“Maybe I should try and help,” David suggested wistfully. “You know Matthew doesn’t know the first thing about hard labor. Spent too long at that computer selling ideas and his creativity.”

Ruth tsked at him. “Our son made a good life for himself. I know you know that, you curmudgeon. I also know you’re proud of his creativity.”

David grinned. “You do know me.”

“Once you’re all healed up you can go help him. Which will be a while from now. Don’t get any ideas about sneaking out of your room. Your grandson already did that.”

David let out a soft laugh. Ruth had told him about Patton’s adventures, which honestly made him glad. The boy needed to gain some independence and challenge his parents. Wouldn’t be a proper child if he didn’t. “I know, dear,” he said, and let that soft knowledge that he didn’t want to recognize fill him. “I won’t be going back to work after this. It’s just a wish.”

Ruth gave him a quizzical look. “That sounds suspicious.”

David reached out and took her hand in his. How many times had he held her hand? Each time had been a gift. “It sounds suspicious because I know I won’t be here much longer, Ruth. I can sense it. My time is coming. I’m going to die soon.”

“Oh my god, don’t be dramatic,” Ruth said, squeezing his hands hard. A flash of fear went through her face. Her eyes filled with tears. “Don’t say things like that. You’re too stubborn to die. You’ll be walking around the property in no time.”

David didn’t say anything. He only stared at her as if he could memorize her every feature. “Do you remember our wedding day?” he asked softly. “It’s been on my mind lately.”

“You sentimental old fool,” Ruth said fondly. “Why are you thinking about that?”

“I was remembering that I remembered barely anything about the day. Not the dancing. Not the cake. Not even the guests. But what I do remember so vividly it feels like it was yesterday is the first time I saw you walking down the aisle. I’m not a man of many words, Ruth. I’m not creative like Matthew. But my darling, you were beautiful.”

Ruth’s chin quivered, and she entwined their fingers tighter together. A soft silence descended over them, and he knew that even if she wouldn’t accept it, she knew it. Their time was coming to an end. Richer or poorer. Till death do they part. Ruth gripped his hand as if she could keep him there through force of will alone. They stared at the mountains in silence until Matthew walked around the side of the hotel, coming to a standstill when he saw his parents.

“Well, if that isn’t fate, I don’t know what is,” Ruth said, leaning in to kiss David’s cheek. She stood up and beckoned Matthew over. “Come over here, Matt. Your father needs a word with you.”

David chuckled at the uneasy fear that crossed his only son’s face. Matthew looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He ascended the steps slowly as Ruth slipped back inside the hotel. Matthew eased himself down on the abandoned rocker. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

David’s chest began to sting. He couldn’t figure out if it was fatigue or emotional pain. “The more important question is, how is the well restoration going?”

Matthew barked a laugh and launched into telling David all about the lengthy project: about how Wyatt was a good ally to have, about how the crew had argued logistics for hours, about how they had to engineer a way to both hand dig and pump the water up. “At least Allison has no interest in the well,” Matthew concluded. “She’s been out in the garden all hours of the day. It’s Patton I need to worry about. That kid is giving me gray hair.”

“Ruth told me about his stunt,” David said, already missing this easy conversation and closeness with his son.

“God,” Matthew said and ran a hand through his hair. “I lost it. Full-on lost it. I don’t think I’ve ever been that angry with him before. After everything that happened, I never thought he’d do something like that.”

“He’s headstrong like you. You probably don’t remember it, but you used to do things like that that drove me up the wall. Disobeying me, trying to put one over on me or Ruth, just up to no good most of the time.”

Matthew pretended to stick his nose in the air and gave David the sly eye. “I did no such thing,” he said and David laughed. The conversation ended naturally, and David watched his son, full to the brim with pride. He knew he hadn’t always done everything right, but he knew that Matthew had grown to become a fine man with an excellent life. What else could a man ask for his children?

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Matthew said softly. “You have no idea how grateful I am to see you outside. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you, Dad.”

David made a humming sound and knew he had to break the truth to his son just as he had done to his wife. “I won’t be around forever, though. Every ticker has to stop sometime.”

Matthew’s face fell and he looked away, rapidly blinking. He took in a deep, shaky breath, and David knew that his implication had been understood. But he had to make sure Matthew knew what being the head of a family meant.

“When I’m gone,” David began.

“Dad, no—”

“When I’m gone, Matthew,” David said, “you’ll be the one a lot of people look to. This is your home, and not only will the kids be looking to you as their role model, but others who come here looking for help will do the same thing. You have to be prepared for that.”

“I can’t do that,” Matthew said. “I can’t be brave and strong all the time. I make the wrong decisions half of the time.”

David tutted. “Being a leader isn’t about being strong or flexing your muscles. It means being as smart as you can and surrounding yourself with people who are even smarter than you are. You need to listen to them and learn from them and rely on them. You already do that, Matthew. I’m so proud of you. All the time.”

Matthew coughed and grimaced as if trying to keep himself from breaking into tears. The pain in David’s chest increased until it ached to sit upright. He felt dizzy. He wanted to lie down and sleep. This outing had exhausted him more than he’d anticipated, and he knew his time was near. He looked again at the vista of mountains, the sunlight, and smelled the fresh air. He didn’t want to leave, but his body was signaling that he had used up his well of strength. He needed to rest.

“Help me back inside?” he asked Matthew.

Matthew nodded and stood up, taking David’s elbow. David looked up at his son once more and said, “I meant what I said. Don’t doubt that.”

Matthew clasped his hand. “I won’t, Dad. I promise.”

19

Max had deliberately stayed away from the well restoration team.

It wasn’t that he was scared, exactly. But being around a bunch of guys who were a) gun club and b) stronger than he was and c) didn’t think he was very funny made him nervous. It made him feel as if he were back in prison. When he had to be on his guard all the time.

He’d never told anyone that. Would go to his grave never breathing a word of it. Yet the sensation never went away, especially as he healed up from his brawl with the cartel members. He felt weak. In prison, you did not want to be weak.

It didn’t help that he knew Jade was calling him all sorts of names, like selfish and self-centered, behind his back. Heck, sometimes she said those things to his face. But she didn’t understand.

Max didn’t know how to be around people anymore. He didn’t know how to fix car engines, or plant a garden, or how to track deer, and he certainly didn’t know how to repair a well. Opening himself up to that kind of ridicule around men who did know what they were doing was a sure way to get...well, not shivved, but maybe punched.

Logically, though, he knew he couldn’t hide anymore. If was going to be part of the Riley family—even more, part of this hotel community—he actually needed to be part of it. No more excuses about being scared or getting shanked. Nope, Max needed to become a member of society, and not just any member, but a productive one at that.

Which was why he was out here. On the outskirts of the well restoration team’s group, listening to some dude named Shawn tell Max that he was a mason. Max wasn’t quite sure at this point if Shawn was an actual honest-to-god mason who could fix bricks and stuff, or like a member of that secret Masonic order, but he was trying to figure it out by context while keeping his mouth shut.

“Put the rest of the stones over there,” Shawn instructed as the men finished clearing out the rocks surrounding the external lip of the well.

Identity solved. An actual stone mason. No secret orders here.

“I think I can restructure the outside with new grout and stone placement,” Shawn finished, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Will probably take a while, but might as well try.”

“Now we just have to worry about the internal structure,” Matthew said, sounding down on his luck. Matthew peered over and down into the hole. A set of poles crafted into a triangular shape with some sketchy jerry-rigged pulley system was next to him. Max eyed it suspiciously as he listened to Matthew make a humming noise of displeasure.

“That one wall looks like it could collapse,” Wyatt said from the other side of Matthew, answering Matthew’s unsaid observation.

“We need to shore it up somehow,” Matthew responded. “Pack the earth down. Strengthen it with concrete or sand or something. Then we need to replace the stones in better alignment so that it holds the structure upright.”

Maybe it was a Masonic order, Max thought. All this sounded like a confusing riddle.

“Easier said than done,” Wyatt said with a wry smile. “Most likely we’ll have to use wood scaffolding to keep the earth in place while we remove the ruined stones and put in new ones. Then we have to pack new earth down in and around it. Once it’s settled, we’ll be in a good spot with a sound foundation.” Wyatt traced the beard around his mouth with his thumb and pointer finger. “It’s just a dangerous job for one man. That’s all we can safely fit down there at a time.”

“I don’t mind,” Matthew said, completely focused on the well. “I’ll volunteer.”

“You’re crazy,” Max blurted out. He winced. He hadn’t meant to say that, but now that the words were out there, he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “You can’t go down there to fix the interior. What if there’s a cave-in?”

“That’s a risk I’ll have to take,” Matthew said, staring at Max as if he were the alien. As if Max was the weird one for not volunteering to risk his life. “We need clean, sustainable water. Period.”

Max sighed. Classic Matthew move. This was beginning to shape up like one of those situations where Jade would label him a selfish jerk. Okay. Personal growth. He could do this. Going into that dark hole would be way easier than giving Jade another reason to despise him. “Last time you went down into the well, you fell,” Max pointed out.

Matthew glared at him. “That was because I slipped.”

“Or because you’re too heavy. I should be the one to go down there. I weigh way less than you do. Less strain on that rickety frame of a rigging you’ve built. Shifty too, I might add.”

He meant that last bit as a joke, but the rest of the restoration crew glanced at each other and didn’t leap to defend the rigging. Okay, so maybe it was just as shifty as it looked. Not a good sign, but he couldn’t back down now.

Matthew’s frown intensified. How was that even possible? “That’s not a good idea,” he said.

“Why not?” Max asked, detecting an undertone in Matthew’s voice he did not like. “I’m lighter than you. Less strain on the rigging. If something happens, that’s less mass to pull up and out. Ergo, less strain on everyone. Plus, since I’m so compact, I can maneuver in there easier than you.”

“Absolutely not,” Matthew said and shook his head sharply.

“Now, let’s hear him out, Matt,” Wyatt said. He leaned back and crossed his arms, lowering his head as if deep in thought. “We should consider it.”

“Out of the question,” Matthew said and turned on Max. “If Kathleen knew I’d let her brother put himself in harm’s way again, I’d never hear the end of it.”

“If Kathy knew I’d let the father of her children into a deep, dark well and something happened to him, I’d be banished. Believe me. I lose way more if it’s you on the line, Matt.”

“It’s not about who has less to lose,” Wyatt pointed out. “We aren’t prioritizing those who have families. We’re not sacrificing men who don’t have families. We’re all equals here.”

“Sure,” Max said. “That’s a nice sentiment. But let’s be real, okay? If we don’t want to make it about who Kathleen loves more—and believe me Matt, it’s you—then we’ll make it about shoulder size.”

“Shoulder size?” Wyatt asked. Holy buckets, did he just crack a smile?

“Shoulder size.” Max squared his chest and did a superman pose. “Look here. I’m slender. I’m short. I’m wiry. Look at Matt.”

Matthew glared harder.

“Not slender,” Max pointed out. “Bulky. Taller. Not fit for well shaft work, that’s for sure.”

“Be serious, Max,” Matthew said.

“I am,” Max said. “You want seriousness? Okay, here it is. This is the least dangerous decision for everyone involved. I’m the smallest guy. I won’t get stuck. I will be at a reduced risk doing the work because of my build. I don’t have an Excel sheet to calculate the numbers, but I’m pretty sure I’m right on this. I’m ready to hear a rebuttal. Anyone?”

The rest of the restoration crew went silent. They all exchanged meaningful looks, but no one piped up to disagree. Exasperation and annoyance crossed Matthew’s face. Max knew his brother-in-law couldn’t negate Max’s talking points, but Matthew didn’t exactly like them either.

Time to finish the argument, Max thought. “I’m betting by the lack of opposition from the peanut gallery that everyone knows I’m right. Who else is jumping up and down to get inside the well? Which really makes me think you’ve downplayed the whole situation. Either everyone agrees with my argument, or you all know just exactly how dangerous this is and no one wants to take the risk. They’d all let you go down there without a second thought, Matt. Let me do the heavy lifting this time, okay?”

Matthew’s face crumpled. He looked to Wyatt as if beseeching him for backup. “Max...just why?” he asked helplessly.

Wyatt shrugged. “Hey, he’s got a point.”

“I dislodged some of the rocks when I went inside the well earlier,” Matthew protested. “There’s water already filling the well up. This is my responsibility. I should take the risk.”

“Not sure that reasoning is gonna fly, champ,” Max said.

“Fine,” Matthew said. “But only because of your stupid shoulder size.”

Max slapped his own arms and tried to flex. “Knew these guns would come in handy one day.”

Matthew rolled his eyes and gestured to the rickety triangle of wood, rope, and nails. “Well, get strapped in, if you’re so eager. You’re going to be as secure as possible when you go down there. That’s what I’m going to tell Kathleen if something happens to you. I did my best to make sure you’d be safe.”

“Okay, Dad,” Max said as he walked over to the rigging. As he stared at the manmade structure, doubt began to creep in, but he couldn’t back down now. Not after he’d thrown his sass and shoulder size around to make a point. If he backtracked, he might get labeled as a coward. Then Jade would have another word to call him.

He turned around and held his arms up. Wyatt started to wrap the ropes around him.

Think of it like a double-dog-dare from your sister, Max thought. You can’t back down now. If you do, you’ll get a noogie.

You can prove you’re not a coward.

20

Ropes crisscrossed over Max’s shoulders, and carabiners lay against his sides where the rope could easily allow him to be pulled up or lowered down into the well. Members of the restoration crew lined up around the rigging to help stabilize the structure as Max readied himself to go into the well. Max paused at the edge and took a deep breath. He had kind of hoped that this whole endeavor could have waited a couple of hours so he could have an actual panic attack over his heroics, but here he was.

Wyatt handed him a flashlight and a toolbelt. Max secured it around his waist. Matthew studied him with narrowed eyes before clapping Max on the shoulder. “Good luck,” he said.

Max winked. “Thanks.”

Then he dangled his feet over the edge of the well. The ropes tightened. For a moment, Max felt a moment of terrifying weightlessness before the ropes creaked to hold his weight. With slow jerking motions, he was lowered into the darkness. Panic rose up inside him, but he stomped it down by flipping on the flashlight and holding it close like it might save him. Above him, the sky was a pale blue circle broken by the darkened shapes of Matthew and Wyatt watching him.

“You need to replace the broken stones in the wall,” Wyatt instructed. “You’ll carefully pry them out and replace them with the new stones we’re going to lower down to you in a bucket. You’ll pack more dirt around the new stones while we haul out the broken ones. Then, if things are still looking unstable, we’ll lower some boards down that you can put against the wall to add stability.”

“Cool,” Max shouted back, because he honestly didn’t know what else to say. He’d never done anything like this before. Honestly, he was going to be winging most of this. In front of him, he saw the rows upon rows of stones finally transform into a ragged line of earth and rocks. Some had jagged breaks in them, and he could see the earth around them crumbly and loose.

“Okay, here’s a good spot,” he shouted back up, and the rigging came to an unsteady stop. He was suspended in the air. The stones were cold to the touch. Using his tools, he pried out the first rock—a stone bigger than his fist that had been shattered in two. As he dug it out, a bucket was lowered next to him. He took out the old stone and quickly replaced it. Then, using the dirt, he packed the earth in until it was a solid layer.

This process continued as he slowly progressed along the wall. He dropped broken stones in the bucket, and replaced the open holes with new rocks. At certain points, he called for boards to help support the more unstable places.

After a while, time seemed to stand still. The well smelled of damp earth, and the chill from the rocks had seeped into Max’s hands. It left his fingers somewhat numb. He tried to warm them against his armpits in what spare moments he could. Every so often he would need more stones, more dirt, more wooden boards for stability, and they were always provided to him by the men aboveground. He looked down at the rest of the well and felt an overwhelming sensation of how much work there really was left to do. Maybe it was a good idea that Matthew had pushed to start the restoration now. There was so much to be done.

Suddenly, he heard the rope holding him creak, followed by a quick and sudden jerk. He dropped a half inch. The chisel he’d been using to chip out another broken stone skittered over the wall and was wrenched out of his hand. His heart leapt into his mouth as he watched the flashlight illuminate it for a brief moment before it disappeared into the well. A loud plonk followed, sounding as though the tool had fallen into deep water. He felt sick as his feet scrambled in the air without a place to find purchase.

“What was that, guys?” he yelled up at the well restoration crew and tried to stomp down on the shrill panic in his voice.

“Sorry!” he heard yelled down at him. There seemed to be scuffling from above and the rise of accusatory voices, but it was a smear of echoes to Max’s ears.

“I dropped the chisel,” he yelled back up at them and then directed his flashlight down into the darkness. He saw the shine of light reflect off stones, moss, and then the movement of water below. “You have to lower me down further so I can get it back.”

He heard silence from above. “Are you sure?” a voice called down to him. “Is that safe?”

That was definitely Matthew.

“Unless you want us to never use the chisel again,” he shouted back up and heard the murmur of agreement before the rigging jerked once more and he was quickly lowered further into the darkness and closer to the water. His feet knocked a boulder that was sticking out of the wall, and it shifted underneath the push. The rigging dropped him further down until he was dangling right above the water, dirt, and boulders. He shone his flashlight around and spotted the metallic gleam of his chisel. Sticking the flashlight into his mouth, he dangled his body just above the water line and used his hands to shift the debris around, hoping to nudge the chisel closer.

Pushing more boulders and dirt aside, he stuck his hand into the water and jolted at the ice-cold that encompassed his hand. It immediately made his fingers go numb. If only he could just reach the tool, he could have the guys above lift him up.

The rigging jerked again sharply, and the tools latched to his toolbelt dislodged, sending two more tumbling down into the water and dirt.

“You guys!” Max shouted up, irritated and trying to fight the wave of fear. “Guys, be careful!”

There was no more sound from above. Max strained forward and tried to reach his hand further into the water and dirt, searching for the metallic feel of the lost tools. He strained further, feeling the rope twang, when suddenly there was another sharp jerk and the sound of snapping rope. He was suddenly in free fall. A scream exploded out of him. Any tension in the rope was suddenly gone and he was catapulted straight into the freezing water.

The cold well water soaked his pants and sleeves. The rigging above swung uselessly. More debris and rocks tumbled down, pelting him. He couldn’t help the second screech that leapt out of his mouth when his clothes stuck to his body, chilling him thoroughly. Looking up, he saw the rigging swinging limply. Broken. He’d been right. Shifty. He tried to find his footing, but the moss-covered rocks were slippery and he tripped, crashing to his knees and gasping at the impact.

More water tumbled down like a spigot left on. He realized that he must have dislodged enough of the debris on one side that it caused more water to start filling the well. With a shudder, he realized he must be below the water table. If more debris had been dislodged, it might bring more water cascading down into the well, filling it up faster than Max could be lifted out.

“Hey, you guys!” he yelled. “Hello? Hello?”

He didn’t hear anything. He turned his flashlight upwards and flashed the beam back and forth to try to get attention. He wished he knew how to signal SOS in Morse code.

“The rigging broke. Can anyone hear me? Hello?”

More water splashed down on him, seeming to increase in intensity. Terror filled him. He had never felt more alone. Could anyone hear him? What if no one came to his rescue? What if he was stuck down here? He could drown.

“Matthew?” he called up. “I could really use some help right about now!”

But his voice echoed around him. There was no reply.

21

When Max’s screams for help echoed up and out of the well, dread filled Matthew. He shared a panicked look with Wyatt before they both leapt back and started yanking on the rigging to bring Max up as fast as they could. No one had time to respond to Max’s cries. It was more important that they use their efforts to reel him back up instead of yelling back that he was okay.

But something was wrong with the rigging. It felt too light. The other men steadying the contraption kept the ropes taut when needed and loose when necessary. Matthew knew that Max was a light man, but he wasn’t this light.

When the rigging came back up, all that was attached to it was the shredded length of rope and metal carabiners that had buckled from stress. Max wasn’t attached to it anymore. Max was still down in the well.

Matthew swore and ran to the edge of the well. A flashlight beam moved back and forth from one side of the wall to the other. He shouted down into the darkness. “Max! Are you okay? The rigging broke!”

“Oh thank god,” Max said, his voice tinny-sounding. “I’m not hurt, but water is starting to pour down into the well. A bunch of rocks got dislodged—”

His voice became muffled. Matthew strained forward to hear the rest of what Max said. What he deduced was that while Max wasn’t hurt now, something was definitely wrong, which might end up with Max getting hurt soon.

Wyatt looked at him with deep concern. “We have to get him out of there,” he said. “There isn’t a lot of oxygen down there. Plus, we have no idea how much of the well he shored up. We don’t know if when he fell if he was in the middle of removing parts of the wall or how far he was in the process. He could have weakened the wall.”

Matthew frowned even as every alarm bell inside of him was screaming. “The internal structure could collapse on top of him,” he said. “We need to get him out of there now.”

Wyatt nodded. “We have to work fast.”

Matthew unwound the rope from around the rigging while Wyatt yanked up the rest of the rope that had been holding Max. He inspected the shredded rope and used a knife to cut down the strands. They quickly replaced the ruined rope and wound the pieces into a loop on the ground. They replaced it with another rope, but without the extra rope, everything was too short. They scooted the rigging closer to the edge, but it wouldn’t extend far enough into the well. They unwound it again and repurposed the metal and rope into a rudimentary winch. Together they lowered the rope back into the well.

“Is this going to work?” Matthew asked as the rope disappeared into the darkness. “It already broke once. Won’t it break again?”

“We’ve got no choice,” Wyatt said. “We don’t have any more rope. This is our only option.”

“What if it breaks again, though?” Matthew asked.

“Would you rather leave Max in the well?” Wyatt asked. “We have to try something.”

Matthew gritted his teeth and lowered the rope into the well, hoping that Max’s shouts for help were about to be answered. “Max, we’re sending down a rope,” Matthew instructed. “Wrap it around your waist.”

The rope dangled into the well, but didn’t move or shift to indicate Max had seen it.

“Max?” Matthew asked, thinking that maybe Max had passed out. The oxygen down there was low. He could become disoriented or confused. Maybe the water had filled the well too fast, and now Max was floating. Maybe a boulder had fallen and landed on him, knocking him unconscious. All of these things flashed through his mind.

Please be safe, he prayed. He wouldn’t be able to face Kathleen if something happened to Max. Despite everything that had happened between him and Max, Max was still family. If he was gone, he would leave a giant-sized hole in all of their hearts.

Matthew couldn’t let that happen. He didn’t even want to think about it. He shouted down into the well, “Max! Tie the rope around yourself and we will hoist you back up.”

For an agonizing moment, nothing happened. Then the rope wiggled back and forth like a fishing line that had caught a fish. The rope twanged as it tightened, and there were three sharp tugs on it as if Max was saying that he was ready. Matthew and Wyatt shared a look of stark relief before nodding at each other. They began to haul Max back to the surface.

Max’s voice floated up and out of the well. “I’m going to try and climb!” he shouted. “Keep pulling, but I’m helping by climbing. The water down here is as cold as ice!”

Matthew strained against the ground. His muscles quivered with exertion. He closed his eyes tight. It seemed as if time stood still and nothing was happening except for the pulling of the rope. His palms felt raw as they hauled Max up. When Max’s exhausted and dirty face emerged from the well, Matthew felt his heart soar with relief.

Max looked terrified. Scratches marred his cheek, and his clothes were soaking wet. Matthew dropped the rope and grabbed Max’s arms, hauling him up and out of the well by sheer force. His mind went through all the worst things that could happen: the rope snapping, Max slipping on the rocks and falling back down, the cold water making him slip out of their grip and splash back into the water.

Max shivered as Matthew yanked him up and out of the well. They both collapsed on the ground in a heap. Max gave Matthew a small exhausted smile. “Did I do the most dangerous task?” he asked in a shaking voice. “How did I do?”

Matthew started laughing and rubbed his hands up and down Max’s arms. “You did it all perfectly,” Matthew said. “You’re the man of the hour.”

Max laughed and dropped his flashlight on the ground as Matthew helped him unwrap the rope from around his waist. “At least I got the stupid chisel,” he said.

22

A knock sounded just outside Allison’s bedroom door. She finished getting dressed and opened the door to see Patton waiting for her. He was leaning against the wall, staring in the opposite direction as if she wasn’t there. “Ready?” he asked.

Allison snorted, but nodded. Patton was trying to act cool and salvage some semblance of his pride after being called out on the hunting fiasco. Their father’s temper had cooled and their mother had calmed, but it still left Patton grumbling over their overreactions, though his cheeks never failed to flush dark red with shame. Ever since he’d joined the effort to create the garden, the two of them had been getting up early to check on their garden’s progress, and today was no exception. Over the past week, they’d managed to construct a fence and test some nuisance deterrents. Only now had they finally begun to see the rewards for their efforts in the form of fragile green stems. Allison hadn’t realized how difficult keeping a garden would be, or how much she would worry about the little sprouts that had been slowly popping up out of the dirt they’d tilled and cultivated.

As they walked side by side out of the hotel and outside, Allison squinted at the rising sun. She felt as if she spent all of her waking hours outdoors. More than she ever had before. There was no television, music apps, or texts to keep her attention. These days, there was just nature. Allison found herself worrying about her old friends, usually on the rare occasions when she’d overworked her body and couldn’t fall asleep, and sometimes she imagined what it would be like if they reunited. She knew she had changed. Would they all still be friends?

She and Patton meandered around the hotel to the other side where the garden lay. Every time she saw the garden and tiny green shoots poking up out of the earth, it filled her with a certain satisfaction, but also relief that it was still standing. When she slept, she dreamed about keeping the garden weeded and watered. In her nightmares the sun shone too brightly on them and she’d walk out back to see the shoots shriveled and browned from the heat. It amazed her how not long ago her mind was full of college and parties with her friends. Now, her mind was full of water levels and sun exposure. There was dirt under her nails all the time.

They had planted all of the seeds that Wyatt had brought back to the hotel from downtown Galena. At one point, Allison had panicked as she opened up one of the last packets and sprinkled its contents into the ground. What if they didn’t grow? What if nothing happened? They’d be out of food. They might starve.

But then, the garden had proved her wrong. It was barricaded by a tight, if strange-looking fence created from spare wood, wire, and any other bits and pieces that would hold and keep out animals. At the moment Lauren was puttering around the garden, but when Allison got closer, she saw the young woman’s eyes were full of tears and her cheeks were flushed. She looked distraught. Allison’s hope for a pleasant day plummeted.

Allison could see why. As soon as she passed through the fence, she saw that the carefully dug rows of herbs and vegetables had been replaced with turned-up and ruined dirt. The rows looked as if someone had taken a shovel and dug up as much as they could. The tiny green shoots that Allison had cooed over were now limp and lifeless in the overturned earth. Allison wanted to scream, but instead, she walked up to Lauren and touched her gently on the shoulder. “What happened?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Lauren said. “I came out here and everything had been ruined!”

“Did the rabbits get in here again?” Allison asked. It could be rodents or deer, honestly. The destruction was the same. The creatures showed up and ate as much as they could. They’d defecate and leave thoughtless tracks everywhere and made all their hard work turn sour. But ever since the fence had been erected, that problem had disappeared. “Maybe it was the deer? I’m so sick of them getting in here and ruining everything we’ve done!”

“I don’t think it was an animal,” Patton mused as he leaned down to poke at the ruins of their garden.

“I don’t either,” Lauren said. “The fence around the garden doesn’t look chewed on or bent out of shape. Nothing disturbed it. I didn’t find any holes under the fence or any indication that a herd of deer might have jumped over it.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Patton continued as he stood. He pointed to the ash perimeter they had laid down not even a couple of days before. It was undisturbed. “I don’t see any slugs or aphids crawling in. It’s so weird. If there was a chance that a rodent got in, they would’ve had to fall down into the garden from a tree or something.” Patton grinned as if he was imagining that right at this very moment. Allison huffed in fond annoyance. Patton was always getting lost in his imagination.

“So what you’re saying is that nothing normal could have gotten in here to mess up our garden,” Allison said.

“It’s like this whole thing was done on purpose.” Patton looked solemn. “Sabotage.”

Allison stifled a sigh at Patton’s overenthusiasm. He was always throwing out suggestions that seemed to come out of left field, but in this situation, he had a point. She squatted down and touched the pale roots that had been ripped up out of the earth. They looked whole. Not a leaf out of place. “This wasn’t an animal,” she said darkly.

“That’s what we’ve been saying, Allison.” Patton put his hands on his hips. “Keep up.”

“No, what I mean is that if it were a deer or a rabbit, they would have chomped off the top part of the plants.” Allison pointed to the roots. “These look as if someone pulled them out intentionally. Deer just mill around and eat what they can, but they don’t twist and yank plants out of the ground. Even new growth like this. They’d eat what they want, but the roots would still remain. Look. Not even the leaves have been ruined, and those that do have damage still have their leaves. A pest would have eaten at least some of this.”

Silence followed her words. She squinted up at Lauren. “Did you see if anyone came through here from the gun club recently?”

Lauren shook her head. “No one but the guys restoring the well. Shawn and Wyatt were the last ones to leave last night. Nikki’s been staying at the hotel full-time.”

“Why would anyone want to mess up our garden?” Patton asked.

“That’s what I don’t get,” Allison said and bit her lip. “No one at the gun club would want to disrupt the garden. I mean, not just because we’re working together, but it would damage the trust and alliance we’ve built.”

“The gun club needs water above all else,” Lauren said. “No way would any of us try and put that at risk.”

“And no one in my family would do such a thing. They wouldn’t want to risk Patton going AWOL again.”

“Hey, I resent that,” Patton said.

Allison grinned weakly at him. “So it must have been an outsider. But we haven’t seen anyone we don’t know around here lately, have we?”

“Nope,” Lauren said.

“Nope,” Patton agreed.

“Well, what if this mysterious stranger was trying to take a clipping?” Lauren suggested. “Like, what if someone wanted to take one of the roots and try to grow it in a new location? Maybe they were too shy to ask us or thought we would say no. Then this would make sense.” She looked around her in dismay. “I guess.”

Patton guffawed. “Sure. ’Cause that checks out.”

“Be serious, Patton,” Allison said, entertaining the idea, even if it did feel like they were grasping at straws. No one wanted to believe someone would do this intentionally. “That would make sense. Sorta.”

“Or maybe they were trying to plant something in our garden and messed up?” Lauren suggested. She, too, seemed desperate to find an answer that fit the pieces of the destruction. It didn’t make sense. Allison thought she was more level-headed than that. Lauren continued. “The ground is super fertile and nutritious. Most plants would grow fantastically in these conditions. Maybe they were trying to make something grow without telling us first.”

“By why would they do it without asking?” Allison asked. Trying to figure out the reasoning behind what was, frankly, a ludicrous destructive act was just frustrating to her. “Everyone knows we’ve been working ourselves to the bone trying to get this garden off the ground. We’re here almost all day every day. Why wouldn’t they just come over to us and ask if they could grow something in our garden? There would be plenty of room and no need to destroy what is already there.”

Silence fell again as the three of them looked at each other and then at the destroyed garden.

“We should tell Dad and Wyatt,” Patton said in a soft voice.

“Yeah, they should be aware of it,” Allison said, feeling moody. She felt as if everything was two steps forward and one step back. “They can ask the well restoration group if anyone accidentally walked through the garden or were trying to mess with it somehow. I’m mad, but I’d rather know why it was done.”

“It all seems weird,” Lauren said, as if speaking Allison’s thoughts out loud.

“Too weird. None of it adds up,” Allison finished.

“You’re in luck,” Patton said, pointing over their shoulders and into the distance. “Here they come right now.”

Allison glanced over and saw Wyatt’s broad shoulders and her father’s familiar gait. Between them, with his arms over both of their shoulders, was Uncle Max. He looked sopping wet, like a fish pulled from the river. His face was pale and screwed up in pain.

“Or maybe not,” Patton said with a frown. “Uncle Max looks awful.”

Allison stood up. People would always be getting hurt. It just seemed to be the name of the game in this new backwards world they lived in. Uncle Max might be in pain, but he’d be in pain if they ended up starving because she couldn’t get the garden off the ground. She waved at her father. “Dad!” she called out. “Something’s wrong with the garden. Can you come here and take a look?”

Matthew gave her a frustrated glance. Allison shrugged and used the two words that would make her father do just about anything for her. “It’s important!” she said.

23

Matthew couldn’t believe their bad luck. Their crappy, no-good luck. Whenever it seemed like things were turning around for the better, something like this would happen that would shake Matthew to his very core. He couldn’t help but imagine what would have happened if the situation had been different and he had been the one in the well. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the rigging would have snapped sooner. He would have fallen to the bottom from a longer way up and most likely would have broken a leg. It would have taken way more time and effort for the well restoration crew to get him out. He might have suffocated from lack of oxygen.

The whole situation could have gone from monumentally dangerous to tragic disaster.

So while he despised that Max had gotten hurt, Matthew couldn’t help but be grateful that Max had been the one to take the risk. Max had been right. He was smaller and leaner, and as much as Matthew hated to admit it, things could have been way worse if he hadn’t listened to Max’s reasoning.

It reminded him of what his father had told him while they were on the porch. He resolved to listen more in the future and not be such a stick-in-the-mud when other people contradicted him.

Max shuddered with chill. A twist of worry filled Matthew’s stomach. He really wasn’t looking forward to explaining this one to Kathleen. In all honesty, he wasn’t looking forward to explaining this whole situation to Nikki, either. But they needed her expert medical opinion on Max before anything else happened. She’d be able to tell if he had a concussion or internal bleeding. Something like that couldn’t wait.

“Dad! Can you come over here?”

Allison’s voice cut through all of his inner worries. He looked up at the sound of his daughter’s call and saw her waving to get his attention. He didn’t have time to settle whatever problem was pitting his children against each other. He gave a short shake of his head. He didn’t have time for this. He had to help get Max back to the hotel.

“It’s important!” Allison cried.

Matthew let out a frustrated sigh and pulled up short. “I’m sorry,” he said to Wyatt and Max who was starting to shake continuously from the cold. “I need to make sure she’s okay.”

“Not a problem,” Max said with a cocky smile. He crossed his arms and rubbed his hands up and down his arms. “I think I can make it to the hotel on my own. I appreciate the escort, though.”

“I’ll take you the rest of the way,” Wyatt said.

“Please,” Max said. “Whatever is going on, I’m sure Matt will need your help to figure it out. I can get to the hotel on my own. It’s very close. I don’t want Jade to think I can’t walk a couple of feet on my own.”

“You’re hurt,” Matthew pointed out.

“Let me keep a little bit of my pride, yeah?” Max said.

“All right,” Wyatt said. “If you’re sure.”

“Make sure you get warm clothes and talk to Nikki,” Matthew said. “Don’t avoid Kathleen. She’ll be mad if she has to find out what happened secondhand.”

“You mean you just want me to tell her so you don’t have to,” Max said with a laugh, and then punched Matthew lightly in the arm. “Fine, fine. I’ll take one for the team. This time.”

“Thanks, Max,” Matthew said and felt a flare of friendship. He and Max had never gotten along like true brothers, but for some reason it seemed like they were connecting more than they ever had before. Maybe dangerous situations really did serve to bring people together.

Max nodded and stumbled his way to the hotel, rounding the corner and disappearing from sight. Matthew turned to Wyatt with a shrug. “It seems like someone has developed a crush.”

“Jade doesn’t seem particularly fond of him,” Wyatt said.

“He’ll have to step up and prove himself, I suppose.” Matthew looked over to the garden. “Let’s go see what fresh insanity my children have gotten up to now.”

“It’s always an adventure with you Rileys,” Wyatt said with a grin, and together they walked over to the garden that Allison, Lauren, and Patton had been working on so hard. Matthew was actually impressed with the whole thing. Despite his doubts about what the children could accomplish on their own because they simply didn’t know a lot, it seemed as if they had taken the garden task to heart and had exceeded any and all of Matthew’s expectations. Even though the fence was made of a mishmash of materials, it looked sturdy and tidy. As soon as they walked into the garden, though, he understood the anxiety radiating off of his eldest child.

“What happened to the garden?” he asked, finally seeing the overturned earth and the uprooted plants. It looked as if someone had taken a rake and ripped up the roots, scraped up the careful planting rows, and tried to make as much chaos as possible.

“We don’t know,” Allison said, looking grim, “but I’m pretty sure someone deliberately destroyed it.”

Matthew glanced at Wyatt, looking for Wyatt’s valued second opinion. “What do you think?”

“I think your daughter is right,” Wyatt said and frowned at the ruined garden. “No rabbit or deer could do anything like this.”

“The fence is in tip-top shape still, and we don’t see any sign of other creatures that tried to ruin the garden,” Allison pointed out. “Dad, I’m serious. The three of us already talked it over. There isn’t any sign of abnormal entry. The roots have been pulled up and out of the dirt, when rabbits or deer wouldn’t be that destructive. Plus, it looks as if it was too meticulous, as if whoever this was knew exactly what they wanted to destroy and tried to do it as fast as possible.”

Matthew glanced at Wyatt and it seemed as if the same thought ricocheted between them. If someone had sabotaged the garden, who was to say that the rigging wasn’t sabotaged as well?

“Honey,” Matthew said, “Wyatt and I have to go and check on something. We’ll be right back to figure out what to do about this.”

“Dad, you can’t just leave! This is a big deal. Someone could be out to get us.”

“Sabotage,” Patton whispered in a dramatic voice that Matthew knew was not meant to sound that way. Patton and his imagination.

Allison looked concerned as if she thought Matthew wasn’t taking this seriously. He wanted to convince her that her discovery had shone a light on a lot of things that had been going wrong lately. He wanted to tell her she might have just solved a mystery he hadn’t known he was looking for.

“I promise, this is all about the garden. We’re going to figure this out. Why don’t you check on your Uncle Max? He took a tumble down the well, and he had to get checked out by Nikki to make sure he didn’t have any internal injuries,” Matthew said.

“That sucks,” Patton said. “Did he really fall down the well?” He guffawed. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. It just sounds like a fairy tale. Humpty Dumpty.”

“Go ask him yourself,” Wyatt said with a wink. “You should tell him that Humpty Dumpty theory.”

Allison looked fretfully at the other girl, Lauren. Lauren motioned her on. “Go check on your uncle,” she said. “I’m going to try and replant what I can this morning before heading back to the gun club. I won’t be able to do anything else for the rest of the day until I try to save what we can.”

“I should stay and help you.” Allison gnawed on her lip.

“You can come back and help me later this afternoon, okay?” Lauren nudged Allison. “Go check on your uncle.”

“Okay,” Allison said, and gestured for Patton to follow her back to the hotel.

Matthew watched them go with dread. If someone was sabotaging their work around the hotel, it could mean so much more than a ruined garden. It meant that they couldn’t trust each other anymore. That old panic and suspicion began to rear its ugly head as he and Wyatt turned and walked back toward the well.

The rigging looked lifeless next to the well, and now had a left-tilting slant to it that would need to be corrected before they used it again. Matthew grabbed the coiled-up rope that had snapped earlier. He inspected the frayed end, but he couldn’t see anything wrong with it. He put pressure on each side of the rope, stretching it tight and making it twang with tension, but it seemed as strong as ever. He couldn’t understand why the rope had failed them.

Wyatt inspected the rigging, checking out the remaining lengths of rope and the metal pieces they’d used to construct the contraption. He ran his finger along the length of one of the other ropes, and his mouth downturned into a sharp frown. “Look at this,” he said to Matthew and motioned him over.

Matthew walked over and peered at what Wyatt was pointing to. “I don’t get it,” he said. “What is it? It looks like normal wear and tear.”

“Look closer,” Wyatt said. “The rope has been frayed intentionally. Like someone took a knife and weakened the strands by cutting through some of them but not all of them.” Wyatt made a rubbing motion, as if he held a knife and was scraping the blade against the top part of the rope. “You can see the places where it’s been sawed into, because it’s too clean. It doesn’t look like it’s been ruined by decay, but no one would have noticed at first glance. That would affect the whole length.”

“What does that mean?” Matthew asked, but in his heart he knew.

“Someone did this intentionally,” Wyatt said. “This would ruin the integrity of the rope so that any extra weight or strange twists in tension would make it fray faster and snap. I bet that’s what happened to the rope you’re holding.” Wyatt stepped back. “Smart, actually. You wouldn’t be able to see it unless you were really looking for it. It wouldn’t raise any alarms. Once the rope did snap, you probably wouldn’t know what the cause was in the first place. Not by looking at the bad rope.”

“Wasn’t it your job to inspect the rigging?” Matthew demanded. He couldn’t help it. Alarm bells in his mind were ringing, and everything just seemed too much like a coincidence. Would Wyatt really not see something like this? He was a Marine. Hadn’t he been trained to have eagle eyes on everything? “Wouldn’t you have checked over your work when you brought the rigging here in the first place?”

“What exactly are you implying, Matt?” Wyatt asked. “You better think real hard about your next few sentences, my friend.”

“I’m just saying that the rigging came from the gun club,” Matthew said, steering clear of a full-blown accusation.

“Anyone from both the hotel and the gun club could have had access to the rigging,” Wyatt said, sounding sharp with anger. “It’s not limited to the gun club.”

“My family would never put their own members in harm’s way,” Matthew said, feeling his temper start to rise in response. “No one in my family would put the garden that they’ve worked so hard on at risk. No one would sabotage the rigging to put me or Max in danger like that. It’s the Riley family that have been getting the short end of the stick. Not one of us is a killer or would have reason to hurt anyone in either our own family or the gun club.”

“No one knew who’d be going into the well,” Wyatt pointed out. “It could have easily been one of my men that went down there instead of you or Max.”

“But you all know I wouldn’t have let that happen. I wanted to prove to you guys that you could all trust me. I didn’t want anyone to be put at risk. I was willing to take that burden on myself. But now it looks like someone in your crew is trying to mess everything up.”

“You don’t know that,” Wyatt said. “That’s a wild accusation to make. If anyone has a saboteur in the group it’s you. Look at Jade! You really don’t know her that well. From what I’ve heard, she’s done some seriously shady stuff in the past. She killed someone. She’s always volunteering for the dangerous assignments where she goes into town. She does things for her own advantage. Who’s to say this wasn’t her?”

“No way,” Matthew said and shook his head vehemently. “Jade has done some bad things, but she’s been working on redeeming herself. She’s done a lot for my family that proves she wouldn’t do this. She’s done what was in her power to be helpful and has proved her commitment to helping this hotel over and over again. She’d never put that into jeopardy.” Matthew paused and knew his next question would be full of venom. “What about the boys at the gun club that were a bad influence on Patton?”

“Bad influence?” Wyatt said. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Matthew said hotly. “Patton wouldn’t have done anything like that without those boys egging him on.”

Matthew stopped and took a deep breath. His father’s advice on the porch flowed back to him. He was in danger of throwing out endless accusations and drawing up old hurts that had been put to rest. He had to be careful about what he said next. Wyatt had been an ally, just like Jade had. He needed to see past his rage and fear to think straight. He just had to be sure on this one last thing. “Did those boys have access to the rigging?”

“Do you really think that children would do something so heinous? Do you really suspect them of doing something so calculated?” Wyatt sounded offended. He took a step back and looked at Matthew like he’d never seen him before.

“Okay,” Matthew said, knowing that he’d stepped over a line. “You’re right. That was out of left field and uncalled for. I’m sorry. The children didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Good,” Wyatt said. “If you really think that, though, we need to reevaluate this whole relationship. Do you hear me? Don’t accuse anyone like that again. I know this is between you and me, but don’t make me rethink our friendship.”

“Point taken,” Matthew said, somewhat startled that Wyatt thought of him as a friend and not just an ally. “That still leaves the question unanswered. Who could have screwed with our stuff? Are they targeting my family? Or is this something aimed at the gun club? Who do you think it could be?”

Wyatt opened his mouth, but his response was cut off by the sound of Kathleen screaming out Matthew’s name. Her cry cut through the air and sent a chill into Matthew’s bloodstream. He saw her waving at him as she ran toward him down the pathway from the hotel to the well.

“What is it?” Matthew shouted back at her, irritated that the conversation had been halted.

Kathleen came to a stop and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Come here!” she cried out. “It’s David. Matt, it’s David. He needs you.”

Matthew went pale and looked over to Wyatt. “I have to go,” he said and before Wyatt could respond, he took off running across the hotel’s property. His heart thudded wildly in his chest. Please, he thought to no one and to everyone all at once.

Please. Please. I can’t take it.

24

As Matthew bolted for the hotel, his mind was full of white noise. He couldn’t think around the panic. He didn’t know what was going on with David, but he knew by Kathleen’s pale face that it could be nothing good. Had he fallen down some steps? It would be like David to push his luck while he was recovering from a second heart attack. Did he hurt himself trying to do a task around the hotel? Smash his thumb with a hammer like he’d done when Matthew was young? Why couldn’t his father just stay still and heal?

Matthew burst through the front door of the hotel and hightailed it to the suite where his father was recovering. He cursed his own stubbornness. He hadn’t talked to David since that afternoon on the porch. He should have come and checked on him earlier, but instead, he’d buried himself in the well restoration. It wasn’t as if Matthew hadn’t wanted to be there, but he knew that water was more important to his father’s well-being than recounting old stories or reliving often-told favorite days. He had been doing everything in his power to help his father…

He just probably should have stopped by more often to check in. Maybe it would have stopped David from doing whatever ridiculous thing he had done to risk his life, yet again. The suite’s door swung open and Matthew took one step in, but then came to a dead halt as if he’d been electrocuted.

David was lying on the bed, but he looked like a mere shadow of who he used to be. His pale skin sagged, and his mouth was slightly open. His breathing sounded ragged with a wheeze-like quality, as if he couldn’t take a proper breath. His wrists looked knobby against the rose-patterned quilt, and his fingers seemed far too long and fragile. Everything about David looked as though he’d been sucked dry. It seemed as if his spirit had disappeared and that his mind had shut down. Even his body was failing him. Matthew gasped. David hadn’t been recovering at all. His health had been backsliding.

Nikki stood off to the side, back in the farthest corner. Ruth looked over at him from her seat in a chair beside the bed. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she gripped David’s hand. “Oh Matthew,” she whispered when she saw him. “He’s been waiting for you.”

“What do you mean he’s been waiting for me?” Matthew asked. His voice caught on the end of the question, making him feel lightheaded.

Ruth only gave him a small, sad smile. Matthew felt a hand on his shoulder and looked over to see Kathleen nudging him out of the doorway as she entered the room. Allison and Patton were behind her. Their two faces seemed young and solemn, and for a moment Matthew didn’t want them to enter the room. He wanted to save them from seeing that final shape on the bed. That wasn’t their grandfather. Their grandfather was the man who had taught them how to play chess and who listened to Patton’s incessant rambling. He was the one that teased Allison about her future until she rolled her eyes, put her phone down, and took him on with some sarcastic comment of her own. This person in the bed was not who they should remember.

Allison and Patton eased by Kathleen and Matthew and walked farther into the room. Matthew expected them to turn to him and ask what was happening, but instead, he saw Allison’s face drop with sorrow and acceptance. Patton started to cry, but it was a soft weeping, nothing panicked or fearful. Suddenly, it hit Matthew like a hammer that even if he hadn’t been coming to see his father every day, his children had. He remembered Kathleen mentioning that they had been checking up on David and renewing his spirits with chatter and company.

Not only that, but they had done more than speak with David. They had done their best to help him in other ways. Allison had dedicated her days to growing vegetables and greens that would help David’s heart recovery. Patton had searched for heart-healthy protein options, and even though he’d gone about it the wrong way, his intentions had been good. More than good. Noble, even.

And Matthew had yelled at him for being selfish and inconsiderate. He’d called a group of young kids at the gun club a bad influence, when in reality, they had been helping Patton do something that Matthew couldn’t. Accept what was happening and begin the grieving process.

Matthew swallowed hard, but the ache inside of him only increased. Looking at the tear-stained faces of his children, who were focused on their grandfather, he noticed how young they looked. Patton and Allison gathered around their grandmother, and Kathleen walked farther inside the room, sliding her hand through Matthew’s. She nudged him again, and he saw that another chair had been placed on the other side of David’s bed. Empty and waiting for him.

“I think you finally need to have that chat with your father,” Kathleen said quietly. Matthew nodded, and took a couple of stumbling steps toward the chair. He fell into it. This close, he could see the bags under David’s eyes and the sweaty, lank fall of his thinning hair. David gasped for air, and Matthew couldn’t figure out if he was in a deep sleep or if he was suffering. A sudden wash of anger filled him. It was like an arrow ready to fly, and he nocked it, directing it at Nikki. “How could this have happened?” he demanded. “How has he fallen this ill so rapidly? What’s wrong with him?”

Nikki took in a deep breath, as if she had been expecting his question, which only served to infuriate Matthew further. “He’s been failing for a while, Matt,” she said in a gentle voice. “This comatose state was to be expected. This wasn’t a rapid process.”

“Are you kidding me?” Matthew demanded. The word comatose left Matthew feeling terrified. “I saw him just the other day. We sat on the porch. We chatted for a while. He looked weak, but he didn’t look like this would happen to him. We were talking. We were laughing. How could you call this normal?” He gestured to David.

Nikki crossed her arms and gave a slow shrug. “It’s not unheard of that terminal patients…I mean, people who are dying will experience a surge of energy. It will give them strength and energy to make their rounds to talk with their loved ones. It’s so they can say their final goodbyes.”

“When we talked, that wasn’t a goodbye,” Matthew insisted, feeling the sorrow clench his heart and fill him with pain. “It wasn’t.”

Nikki’s face softened, and she tried to give him a comforting smile. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but it’s a phenomenon that I’ve seen a lot in the medical field. It’s been documented by many medical journals and has been reported by family who have been left behind. Dying loved ones will seem revived so they can say their last farewells. David wasn’t getting any better, per se, but his body had allocated an extra amount of energy so that he appeared better, or gave the impression that he wasn’t on the brink of passing.”

Matthew remembered his father suddenly feeling exhausted at the end of their conversation. He remembered how he had smiled in that soft, prideful way at Matthew when Ruth took him back inside. He hated that he hadn’t seen, that he hadn’t known, and it didn’t make sense because Matthew was an intelligent person who knew his father—he should have known. He should have seen this coming. It didn’t make sense that he didn’t know. All the things David had told him—all the wisdom and final lessons he’d tried to impart—had actually been a final goodbye. Matthew felt as if someone had just punched him in the stomach.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I mean, he could have been poisoned. Did you check to make sure he didn’t eat something that could have induced this? That reacted with his heart medication? Listen to his breathing. It doesn’t sound normal!”

Nikki’s features collapsed into an expression of pained sympathy. “It’s a symptom of end-term heart failure. He’s not suffering. It is just difficult to listen to. His heart is generating fluid that is backing up into his lungs. It’s making it difficult for him to breathe. There isn’t anything I can do. I don’t have the resources to drain the fluid, and it honestly wouldn’t do anything to help him in the long run.”

Matthew stared at her, frantically searching for something to say that would make her get that pensive look on her face. That look that would make her think there was another alternative. A treatment that hadn’t been tested yet. Instead, Nikki’s sorrow increased and she said, “I’m so sorry. There isn’t anything else I can do for him. I did everything in my power, but I’m still sorry to see him go. He was a good man. A stubborn man. But one of the best men out there. I’ll leave you to say your goodbyes.” And with that, she left the room, closing the door behind her.

Matthew looked at Kathleen beseechingly. “There has to be something we can do,” he said to her, knowing she would agree with him. “We have to do something, Kathleen. We can’t just let this happen. There must be something we can do.”

Kathleen opened her mouth, but her expression told him she would be saying nothing but platitudes. Ruth broke in by saying in a gentle voice, “Matt, honey, Nikki is right. There isn’t anything we can do to stop this. He’s held on this long because he wanted to say goodbye to you. Nikki wasn’t lying. This is the time to say what you’ve always needed to say.”

Matthew’s fight went right out of him. He looked at his father and felt something thick fill his throat. With great hesitation, he reached out and took his father’s hand. David’s fingers felt brittle. Matthew let out a soft breath that came out more as a sob. Ruth reached over David with her free hand. Her palm was open and inviting. He took his mother’s hand without thinking, and felt strengthened by her touch. Ruth’s grip was strong compared to David’s limp one. He squeezed David’s hand and for a brief moment thought that he felt his father squeeze back.

Maybe Nikki and his mother had a point. This was the only time he would be able to tell his father anything and everything. There would be no more antique shopping or stupid jokes or fights that would dissolve into jokes. David would never see what the hotel could become. How was Matthew going to get through any of this without listening to his father’s advice? How was he going to know if he was being too hard-headed or not seeing things in a certain light or being too soft? Who was going to continue to guide him through this life?

No one. No one was going to help Matthew or be that role model for him. That was what David was trying to get through to him when they were sitting on the porch. He couldn’t have that role model because now he had to be that role model. He would have to think of others like his father would and see things from other perspectives. David had taught Matthew everything to make him a good leader and a good father. Matthew would do everything in his power to honor that legacy.

There was only one thing left to say. “I love you, Dad,” he said in a soft voice. “I know you know that, but now it’s been said. I love you.”

He waited for a moment, expecting his father to say it back, but only silence met his declaration. He squeezed David’s hand one last time, hoping for some kind of reaction.

David’s hand slackened in his. His chest stuttered up and down as his breathing continued to roughen. The breaths started to shorten and then stopped completely. David’s chest let out one last rattle and wheeze before he went silent. Everything stopped.

Matthew couldn’t believe it. His father was gone.

25

Matthew didn’t know how long he sat in the chair next to David, but he knew that the sun had changed position from early morning to afternoon within a blink of an eye. Kathleen had shooed the children out, giving Matthew some peace and quiet. He studied his father, trying to reconcile the lifeless form with the larger-than-life presence that had filled Matthew’s world since day one. He didn’t want to cover David up with a blanket. This would be the last day he saw his father, and once he started to take care of his body, he wouldn’t have him anymore.

At some point, Kathleen walked back into the room. He looked up at her, his eyes blurry with tears. Her own face was puffy with crying. She leaned down to kiss him on the cheek.

“I don’t know what to do,” Matthew said brokenly.

“I do,” Kathleen whispered. “It’s time for you to find a spot to bury him. Let Ruth and me do the other preparations, okay? We should finish by the evening.”

Matthew understood, even if he couldn’t imagine finding the spot where he would lay his father to rest. Kathleen helped him up, and Matthew realized his feet had gone numb. He staggered to the door and took one last look at his father. Silence filled the room, and a new wave of grief hit Matthew. He would never hear his father’s voice or his laugh again. It would be a long time before he accepted David’s death.

Outside, he walked around the property in a daze, looking for a spot that would match what David meant to him. He studied the way the leaves rustled in a soft summer breeze and thought that David would never see the hotel in the late bloom of August. He wandered around the back end of the property where there was a small meadow where the sun shone down, leaving sunbeams cascading through pockets in the clouds. He thought about how David would never tell another story or remind Matthew about embarrassing moments in his life to keep him humble. But when he looked out across the small clearing, he saw a huge tree at the other end. Moss crept up one side of the dark brown trunk. The light hit the leaves just so to make them glimmer silver. The grass around it was both green and light yellow, but at this time of day it had an auburn cast to it, like a crisp fall day. Matthew approached the tree tentatively, wondering if he could come to this place often, knowing his father was buried at the base of it. He had no stone to carve David’s name. No plot to visit. If this was where he would bury his father, the ancient tree was just as much a monument to his father as a gravestone would be. Stalwart. Strong.

Taking a deep breath, he nodded to himself. Yes, this was it.

He walked back to the hotel and picked out a shovel. His heart was heavy, but having a task gave him some kind of forward momentum. He needed something to do that would help his father. Just like the obsession of trying to help his father by repairing the well. Maybe this time he’d do it right.

The first time he stuck his shovel into the ground he knew it was going to be a difficult task. Within a few shovelfuls, he ran into a variety of roots. Some were thick and hard to dig past. Others were thin, white tendrils. Sweat broke out on the back of his neck as he struggled to dig. The sun roasted his cheeks, but he had to keep going. He didn’t know how long he had been outside digging, only that he felt like he wasn’t making any sort of progress. When two shadows fell over him, he looked up and wiped away the tears and sweat from his face.

Jade and Max stood before him. Each of them carried a shovel.

“We thought you might need some help,” Jade said. “We want to help. I hope that’s okay.”

Matthew didn’t know what to say. It was difficult to speak past all the emotions building inside of him. He simply nodded and Jade nodded back in response. She took up a spot on the other side of Matthew and started digging vigorously into the earth. Max walked by Matthew and stopped for a moment. His voice was soft with its own kind of sorrow when he said, “I’m so sorry for your loss. If you need anything, I’m here. For all of you.”

Thickness filled Matthew’s throat. He tried to say something, but it only came out as a grunt. Max seemed to understand, though. He took up another spot nearby and began to dig. Matthew was expecting the pair of them to start speaking about David, or to share their own memories and experiences with him. He both wanted to hear them and wished that the silence would continue. Luckily for him, the silence continued, filled with the sounds of their labor, and Matthew couldn’t help but be grateful for the quiet company.

Time passed, and the hole got bigger and deeper. The task seemed easier now that there were three people tackling it. Finally, after a time, he felt as if he could speak without breaking down. He wanted to hear what Jade and Max had to say. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear about their memories of David, but the sound of human companionship would be welcome. Maybe, if they spoke, it would clear out the claustrophobic feeling that was creeping around him. It was a feeling composed of guilt for not spending as much time as possible with David, as well as shame for his own obsession with restoring the well. He had to try. If he kept thinking about all the things he should have done, he would drown under the regret.

He cleared his throat. “So how…”

But he trailed off, not even knowing how to start this conversation. Small talk seemed paltry. Talking about his feelings or about his father would mire him in grief. What was there to speak about in a moment of such sorrow? He felt stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“Once, when I was in the cartel,” Max said, as he tossed more dirt and chopped-up roots into a pile.

“This better not be the start of a joke,” Jade warned.

“It’s not. I promise, but it is a really dumb story. I don’t know why I’m even telling you both this.”

“Go on,” Matthew encouraged him. Anything to stop the thoughts that were currently overwhelming him.

“Okay, but don’t judge me for it. I used to work closely with this guy who was four times my size. Big beefy dude. We used to call him Smalls. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s just important for things to be confusing. For some reason, though, Smalls was given the task of transferring drugs between states, but he had to take a plane to do it.”

“Are you sure this is appropriate?” Jade hedged.

Max snorted. “Probably not. But do you want to know the rest of the story or not?”

“Yes,” Matthew said. “Keep going.”

“Well, a storm roared through, making the plane divert from Chicago into some po-dunk town way off course. Now, Smalls was freaking out. He was carting a lot of drugs, and if he didn’t get to his destination, he’d have a lot of powerful men angry at him. They most likely would have thought he planned to take the drugs and make a bunch of money off of them without giving them their due cut.”

“This is the weirdest story to tell,” Jade said.

“I’m ignoring that comment,” Max said. “So this plane lands in the middle of nowhere. But, for some reason, Smalls had been sitting next to this old woman the whole flight. This woman had never flown a day in her life and was moving to be closer to her daughter. The whole flight she was cursing up a storm and Smalls was trying to keep her from having a heart attack. She was terrified no one would come and get her because she swore once the plane landed, she wasn’t getting back on it. So Smalls comforts her and takes this elderly lady under his wing. He helps her off the plane and carries her luggage and then ushers her to the small complimentary coffee cart.”

“Oh geez,” Jade said, shoveling the dirt into the pile.

“Yeah, I know. So Smalls is there, sweating bullets because he’s carrying tons of drugs, but yet he’s suddenly the hero of the hour because this half-blind woman is now convinced he was sent to her to guide her through this trying time. Everyone one the plane thinks he’s the nicest, kindest man to ever walk the planet because he was so gentle with the woman.”

“She’s half-blind now?” Jade asked with a sharp smile.

“Swear to god,” Max said. “So Smalls, this fridge-shaped huge guy, is talking about crochet with little Nanette, when the police come a-calling.”

“Oh no,” Jade said, sounding genuinely concerned for Smalls.

“He’s arrested, but Nanette was so upset that they confiscated the drugs and then let him fly with her all the way to their original destination, where the police were waiting for him. After he escorted her off the plane and she tried to introduce him to her daughter, the police took him away. They asked him, ‘Why were you helping her?’ and he said, ‘I never got the chance to be anyone’s grandson before.’”

Jade laughed and touched her heart. “That’s...sweet, actually.”

“Smalls looked scary, but he was a gentle giant,” Max finished.

Matthew chuckled and wiped away tears. “Good story, Max.”

Max grinned, confident that his story had worked, and launched into another tale. Matthew didn’t follow this one, and instead let the comforting talk wash over him. Jade and Max started up a friendly banter that soon had Jade genuinely laughing at Max and both of them sharing grins.

“Ah, well, I know these cartel tales are funny—if the world was working, I’d write a book and sell it for a million dollars—but in all honesty, I thought my life was over when I was arrested. After I cut the deal with the DA, I was terrified I was going to be killed in prison. Every day was filled with fear. But what scared me even more was that I had lost my family. I was convinced Kathleen would never speak to me again. I managed to survive, and if I do say so myself, I think I’ve matured since then, too.”

“God forbid,” Jade joked.

“God forbid,” Max echoed. “What I did discover, though, is that just because I made a mistake that snowballed into a terrible life decision and I was paying the price for those decisions, I knew I would one day find a way to move forward.”

Jade went quiet. Matthew focused on the task at hand, knowing that Max was directing this last portion at him, but he didn’t want to look up from digging the grave.

“I just had to find a new way forward and never forget where I had come from,” Max said. “We all will. Even though something tragic happened today, we will find a way to get through it together and remember how this day shaped us. We will support each other no matter what. No one is alone.”

The heartache was back inside of Matthew, but this time it wasn’t completely full of grief. There was love in there too.

26

Matthew entered the hotel exhausted and dirt-stained, just in time to see that Kathleen and Ruth had finished preparing David for his final resting place. He watched them sew the last stitch in the shroud that once was a white sheet, before the tears made it hard for him to see. Trudging upstairs, he tried to freshen up as much as he could. He poured precious water into a bowl and used a towel to wipe away the sweat and grit from his skin. Taking a deep breath, he tried to find his nicest clothes. It wasn’t much—he had gotten rid of most of his suits, but he had a nice button-up that would go with his jeans. He wished he could look better for his father, but he knew that David wouldn’t care. Just as long as he was there…that was all that mattered to his father, both now and then.

Walking downstairs, he saw that the rest of his family had had the same idea. Kathleen wore a simple sundress that flared out at the waist. Ruth had chosen a shirtdress in one of her favored styles. Max wore some cast-off clothes from the gun club that looked freshly laundered if a bit old. Allison and Patton both wore jeans, but Allison had a long button-up that seemed to mimic Matthew’s with a feminine slant. Her hair was up in a tidy ponytail. Tears poured down Patton’s cheeks as he pulled down on his polo shirt. Together, the Riley clan lined up around David’s body and they all helped carry him out to the tree where he would be buried.

The sun was setting, casting its light in shafts of orange, pink, and yellow. The tree looked strong and steady against the sky. Matthew’s focus was intent on the ground in front of him and when he looked up, he saw new shadows waiting around the trunk. For a moment, Matthew almost stumbled when he made out that the shadows were Wyatt, Marcus, and Shawn. Shawn held two rifles in his hand while Wyatt balanced another one on his shoulder.

Matthew couldn’t believe it. David hadn’t really been close with anyone from the gun club, so it surprised Matthew that some of the members had shown up in the first place. As soon as the Rileys arrived at the plot, they lowered David’s body beside the grave.

Matthew looked up at Wyatt. “I’m glad you’re here,” he blurted out. “How did you even know?”

Wyatt looked bashful. Matthew noticed that he was wearing his best clothes. Even Shawn was dressed in a nice shirt with a blazer. Marcus had made the effort to tame his curly beard.

“Nikki came back to the gun club crying her eyes out,” Wyatt admitted. “She told us about what had happened. We all decided to come pay our respects. David was in the Army, and it seems only right that we respect one who served like we did. We wanted to be here for him and for you and your family.”

Matthew cleared his throat, blinking back a new wash of tears. “Even after…even after what I said?” he said in a husky voice.

“Of course. We didn’t want David to go into the ground without something of a military burial. He earned it. We honor our own.”

“Thank you,” Matthew said.

“We’re so honored you’re here,” Ruth said, taking a step forward and laying a hand on Wyatt’s arm. “Thank you. Thank you to all of you for being here. I don’t know much about military burials, but I know David would have loved this. He was always so proud to have served his country.”

Marcus took a step forward and held out a triangle to her. Ruth took the offering, which Matthew realized was a folded flag. The colors were faded. He wondered if Wyatt and the others had taken down the flag from the gun club, and the gift made his heart ache. It meant so much to him that the gun club was doing this to honor David.

Ruth held the folded flag close to her chest and clutched it tightly. Her shoulders shook as she tried to hide her tears. Marcus stepped back with stiff, sharp motions and took the second rifle from Shawn. Wyatt stepped back too, and then as one, they took aim toward the sky. They shot one bullet each. The sound exploded from their guns and echoed all around them. Then, the three of them sharply moved their guns down and back against their shoulders, ending with a salute.

“It’s usually a twenty-one-gun salute,” Marcus said apologetically. “But because we’re low on bullets, we wanted to save our ammunition.”

“I completely understand,” Ruth said, even as she tried to smile through her tears. “It was wonderful. Thank you.”

“Would anyone like to say something?” Kathleen softly urged from behind them.

“I would,” Ruth said, and Matthew felt a rush of relief. He wasn’t sure he could speak just yet.

Ruth took a step forward and seemed to clutch the flag even tighter to her chest. “David was the first man I truly loved,” she said. “His friend was a friend of mine, and we met at a silly youth dance. I thought he was so kind and sweet. Later, after we began to see each other, I realized he would listen to me. When we married, I realized that his kindness and support would never waver. We had an amazing son and two wonderful grandchildren. I fell in love with him more and more each day. My life won’t be the same without him. I will miss him until the day I join him, but I know he loved all of us fiercely.”

Ruth started to cry in earnest and had to back away. Matthew swallowed hard, but he took a step forward and tried to fight past the heartache to say what he needed to say. “My father was the best man I’ve ever known,” he said. “He was a leader among men. Even though we had our differences, he was always there for me. He guided me when I was lost and was my strength when I was weak. He always had the answers for me. His wisdom and judgment will be sorely missed. When I last spoke with him, he told me he was proud of me and taught me one last lesson. What it meant to be a father. What it meant to be a leader. I will use every lesson he ever taught me.”

Matthew paused and wiped away the tears streaming from his eyes. “Thank you all for coming here,” he concluded. “It meant the world to us. It would have meant the world to my father.”

He saw Wyatt nod in sympathy and felt a pat on the back from his wife. “We’re going to take Ruth back inside,” she said softly. “I don’t think she should see this next part.”

“Okay,” Matthew said. “I’m going to stay.”

Kathleen leaned up and kissed his cheek. “I love you.”

As soon as they were gone, the men from the gun club came forward, and with their added strength, they managed to lower David into the ground. Once it was finished, Matthew looked up at Wyatt. He realized he needed to apologize to Wyatt once more for everything that he had said.

“Thank you again for being here,” he started. “All of you. It means more than I can say. Wyatt, what we discussed earlier...I should have known better. I know no one here is responsible for the sabotage or that anyone would ever do anything to jeopardize our future here. I am so sorry for jumping to conclusions. I hope you feel the same and can forgive me.”

“I do,” Wyatt said simply. “All is forgiven and water under the bridge. I know you didn’t mean it. But now we do need to figure out who could have done such a thing and who might be trying to ruin our progress in the future.”

“I think I have an idea,” Matthew said. Now that he thought about it, it all seemed so obvious.

“You do?” Wyatt asked, surprised.

“Who else would benefit from both the gun club and the hotel failing? Who else would have the stupid guts to put anyone in danger like that?”

Wyatt’s eyes hardened as realization dawned on him.

“Samuel West,” Matthew concluded.

27

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jade asked for the third time that morning.

Matthew gave her an exasperated look, but he understood her caution. The problem they faced had been his constant companion, and he had thought on it all night following David’s funeral. In his mind, he heard his father drilling into him that he needed to figure out what was behind these so-called accidents. That they weren’t accidents at all, and if he wasn’t careful, they would lead to someone getting really hurt.

“It has to be Samuel,” he reiterated. “Who else knows this place as well as he does?” He looked around the hotel as if to encompass not just the dining room, but the whole property. “Who else would be able to sneak around the grounds under our noses and create havoc with everything we own? Who else has it in for us?”

“It does make sense,” Wyatt said as he scooted one of the dining room chairs back from the rectangular table and sat heavily in it. He ran his hands through his hair. Matthew wondered if the Marine had gotten more salt and pepper since they’d met. Wyatt eyed the guns they’d laid out on the table as if sizing them up. “No one at the gun club would dare fray the rope on the rigging. I can’t think of a single soul that would want to put Max in harm’s way like that.”

“I can’t believe he fell down the well,” Jade said and looked unusually green at the thought. “He could have died.”

“Exactly,” Matthew said and spread his hands out wide. “I know the two of you don’t really see eye to eye…”

“It’s not that,” Jade said sharply. “Your brother-in-law is a seven-layer cake of bad decisions and selfishness and really dumb jokes, but he doesn’t deserve to…to suffocate or drown in the bottom of a well. Max is just...” Jade sighed. “Well, he’s Max.”

“I’m glad you’re in agreement,” Matthew said, raising an eyebrow at her and biting down on a chuckle. “I don’t think anyone has ever summed up Max’s personality so well.”

Jade shot him a weak grin. “Maybe his past girlfriends.”

“Sure,” Matthew shrugged. “Although there hasn’t been one of those in a long time. For someone who is usually so gregarious, he’s strangely been the lone wolf a lot in his life.”

Jade bit her lip as if she didn’t want to find that fact interesting.

“But the fact remains,” Matthew continued, “that if our saboteur isn’t a member of the gun club, it paints us living here at the hotel in a bad light. I don’t believe that anyone at the hotel right now would be stupid enough or reckless enough—”

“I think the word you’re looking for there is ‘cruel,’ Matt,” Wyatt chimed in.

“—or cruel enough to put Max in danger. No matter how selfish or dumb his previous joke was. Not to mention destroy Allison’s garden, especially after all the hard work she put into making it grow. None of those factors add up, but one person would absolutely do all of those things.”

“Samuel West,” Wyatt answered for Matthew. “He’s wanted this property since it went up for sale. He thinks it’s his by right because of some rambling his old man used to do about how they were owed this land. And judging by what he did to Ruth and Patton, he won’t stop trying to get what he thinks is his.”

Jade sighed and took out her ponytail, shaking her dark hair loose. She rubbed her scalp as if it ached. “Okay, I get your point,” she said. “But are we really sure that sneaking into Galena to shake him down first is a good idea?”

“What else can we do?” Matthew asked. “If he makes another move, it could end up with Max falling off the roof because the ladder suddenly collapsed on him. I’ll bet you right now that if something like that does happen, it will because one of the rungs was mysteriously loose or weakened.”

Jade held up a hand. “Don’t jinx him like that, Matt. Geez.”

“I’m just saying these random accidents aren’t adding up to be so random. If we suspect that Samuel might be up to something, it’s worth giving him a little scare so he thinks twice about messing with us.” Matthew clasped his hands back together on the table. “That’s all I’m saying.”

“That’s all you’re saying, sure.” Jade snorted a laugh. “You want to go and threaten Samuel. I didn’t know you had it in you, Matthew.”

“Neither did I,” Wyatt said and shot Matthew a grin.

“I can do more than build a social media campaign from the ground up, you know,” Matthew said as he took their teasing in stride. “But that means that I only trust the three of us to go to his garage and see what’s what. I don’t want to take the kids. Max isn’t trained to use a gun well. Kathleen and Allison should be here for my mother. We need to have a solid trio that can be intimidating enough, but not show so much force that it makes Samuel think we’re starting a war.”

“And you’re sure this isn’t…” Jade trailed off and glanced at Wyatt as if looking for help.

“Isn’t what?” Matthew asked in a dangerous tone of voice.

Jade sighed and looked up to the ceiling as she said, “You not dealing with the death of your father?”

It hurt, but Matthew saw her point. He did sound as if he wanted to burn something to the ground. Yet he felt strangely calm about the whole thing. Samuel was a problem and problems had to be dealt with. David might be gone, but his wisdom lived on, and right now it was clamoring in Matthew’s mind. “If you think it is, I will sit this one out,” Matthew said. “I promise you, this isn’t about me avoiding my grief. My dad would be with us one hundred percent. He stood by us when Patton was taken, and I know for a fact he would support us on this.”

“Matthew’s not making this stuff up,” Wyatt said to Jade. “I saw the accidents, too. We need to cut off the head of the snake before this gets any bigger and more people get hurt.”

“Well, all right then, you’ve convinced me. I’m on board,” Jade said, putting her hair back up into a tight ponytail. “Do you know where Samuel’s garage is?”

“I do,” Wyatt said. “He has an auto yard full of junkers. The garage where he works on customers’ cars is on the same property. I can take us there. We can sneak around the back so he won’t see us coming, but most of the yard is gated off with a chain link fence, so we’ll have to figure out a way to go around through the front. I don’t know what kind of state the place is in, though,” Wyatt finished with a shrug. “Could be that he’s not even at the auto yard and is instead at his house, but I don’t think Samuel would give up his place of business so easily.”

“Okay, then,” Jade said, eyeing the weapons on the table. “Let’s load up.”

“Are you sure you want to go?” Matthew asked Jade. “Last time you went into Galena, you got shot.”

“Yeah, and I have a wicked scar to prove it,” Jade said with a smile as she buckled a holster around her waist and slid a pistol into place. “Stop your yakking, Matt. You sold me on the plan, so let’s go and enact it. I don’t need to think too hard about stuff like this. Maybe I’ll get a bullet to the other shoulder and have a matching set.”

“Now who’s trying to jinx us?” Matthew said, double-checking one of the shotguns. “I’m ready when you two are.”

They loaded up with weaponry before heading out of the hotel and walking down the mountain. It was a cooler morning than usual, and the usual bright sunny dawn had become a gray, cloudy one. Matthew wondered if that spelled rain and whether they should put out empty buckets to collect the rainwater. Hopefully, either Allison or Patton would notice the changing weather and think to do something. He knew his mother would be bedridden with grief. It was as though the weather was reflecting the melancholy that blanketed the hotel after David’s passing.

Conversation was minimal as they walked down the mountain, and Matthew knew each of them were lost in their own thoughts. Maybe contemplating mortality, or imagining when the world would right itself again, or what their lives would be like if it never did. Matthew was thinking about David. David would have insisted on coming along, bad heart or not. Nothing could keep his father down.

Soon enough, the Galena welcome sign came into view. Matthew fell back to let Wyatt take the lead. Wyatt guided them toward the opposite end of the town, where most of the land had been eaten up by lumber yards and asphalt lots chock full of machinery for agriculture. Wyatt directed them in what seemed to be a back route, looping them through these wide industrial spaces. There weren’t any trees or cover out here. Everything had been cleared for basic commercial needs, like cement creation or even gravel mining. Matthew felt turned around as Wyatt guided them along back roads he never knew existed, and he felt completely uncertain of where he was – especially when he spotted the sign for Samuel’s auto yard. The cursive logo might have once been a cerulean blue, but now the color had faded to a gray-denim shade as if it had seen better days. A bird’s nest was nestled in the curve of one of the letters.

Wyatt motioned them to one side of the chain-link fence surrounding the property. Matthew peered through the holes and saw a weed-covered field full of cars in various states of decay. Some were old classics and rust marked their hoods. Others were throwbacks from the late nineties, and probably the most valuable pieces because they probably still worked. Others were completely worthless now that the EMP had ruined all their electronic components.

“Look there,” Wyatt said and pointed around the fence at two men who seemed to be guarding the front of the auto yard and the garage itself.

“Is this place really worth guarding?” Jade snorted.

“Do you smell that?” Matthew asked. He sniffed the air, but because it was such a foreign scent, he knew what it was right away. Marijuana.

“Do you think we can take those guys on?” Jade asked, eyeing the two men who slumped against the fence as if they didn’t have a care in the world. “They look pretty big.”

“Yeah, I do,” Wyatt said. “They’re most likely stoned and won’t take much effort to clear out of the way. Matt and I can do it. You’ll back us up in case something happens.”

“All right,” Jade said quietly.

Matthew set his jaw and nodded to Wyatt. “Take lead,” he told the Marine, and Wyatt made a hand gesture indicating they should move forward while staying low to the ground. Wyatt directed them around the fence and closer to the two men, who were talking in low voices and cackling over something they saw on the ground.

Matthew and Wyatt moved in tandem. Matthew took out the man closest to them while Wyatt tackled the other one. Matthew raised the butt of his gun and smashed it against the back of the guard’s head. The sickening crack seemed to rumble up the gun and into his arms, but the guard went rigid and then slumped to the ground. His eyes rolled up in the back of his head. Matthew saw a trickle of blood. He immediately put two fingers under the man’s neck to search for a pulse. It was still there and thudded strongly. He’d only knocked the man out and hadn’t injured him too badly.

Wyatt did the same, slumping the other guard down to the ground and easing him next to his friend. The skunk smell of the drugs was overpowering. Matthew’s nose wrinkled. He knew when they woke, they’d have killer headaches.

Now that the guards were no longer a threat, Matthew realized that the gate was still locked. He shared a look with Jade and Wyatt. “Do you think there are more people inside like...” He gestured at the so-called guards.

“There’s only one way to get Samuel’s attention without hurting anyone else,” Jade said. “I feel a teensy bit bad about taking out numbskulls like these idiots. Let’s make a racket. Put on a show of strength. Then everyone Samuel is working with will get the message.”

Matthew nodded in agreement, then raised a fist and banged it on the chain link fence. The fence made a loud metallic rattle that seemed to echo throughout the auto yard. “Samuel!” he called out. “Samuel West! Come out of there right now! I have something to say to you!”

Jade unholstered her pistol and held it loosely at her side, but Matthew knew it was a ploy. She was ready to aim and shoot the moment things started to turn. He was suddenly grateful to have her on his side.

“Make him sweat,” Wyatt encouraged under his breath.

Matthew bashed the chain link fence again and made the metallic clang increase in volume. He called out, “Samuel West, you coward! We know you’ve been sabotaging the River Rock Hotel! You’re a real piece of work putting our people in danger like that, but I’m here to let you know that whatever grudge you have against me and my family ends today. Do you hear me? All this crap ends here and now.”

Matthew waited for a response, but everything was tumbleweeds. He knew that Samuel had to be listening from somewhere in the garage. He glanced at Wyatt and Wyatt gave him a nod of confidence. Matthew banged on the gate again. “Your guards were easy to take care of. Reminded me of the time my mother bashed your head in with the butt of your own shotgun not too long ago. All I can say is, we’ve put your weapon to good use.”

Silence met his words, but Matthew felt heat in his veins and knew he’d probably hit Samuel where it hurt. Matthew hoped Samuel was seething.

“Here’s the deal,” Matthew continued. “You leave us alone, and we won’t bother you. But if you start bothering us again, we will have words. Do you understand? This will be your final warning.”

At this point, he didn’t expect an answer. So when a familiar bulky shape stepped out from the garage’s gray metal doors, Matthew was surprised. Samuel wore the same old grease-smeared coveralls and he had a different shotgun braced against his shoulder. The snarl on his face told Matthew that Matthew’s taunting had indeed served its purpose. Things most likely were going to go south really quickly. Matthew didn’t move a muscle, though. He stood his ground as Samuel approached the gate.

Samuel stopped and stared at Matthew through the chain link fence. His eyes flickered to Jade and Wyatt as if evaluating them and their weapons. Then, much to Matthew’s surprise, he hefted his shotgun up so that it balanced on his shoulder better, and began to unlock the chains. Samuel eased the auto yard’s front gates open.

The two unconscious guards who’d been leaning against the gates slid to the side and onto the ground. Samuel peered at them and shook his head in disappointment. “Idiots, the both of them,” he drawled. “Well, you might as well come on in. Hospitality nonsense and all that. Can’t have you thinking I’m some monster that can’t mind his Ps and Qs.”

“Last time I checked, you were in need of some manners,” Matthew said in a tense voice.

“Come on in, you fancy posh hotelier. Not sure you’ll sound so brave if you have to say those things to my face.”

Matthew took a step forward and crossed the gate’s threshold.

“Matt,” Jade hissed from behind. “Don’t go in there.”

“It’s a bad idea,” Wyatt said.

Matthew stopped walking.

Samuel grinned meanly at him. “Didn’t think so, but suit yourself,” he said. “I’ll leave the gate open and you can come and go at your leisure, but I thought you might want to take a look at some things before you go. I’ve got something you should all see.”

Matthew glanced back at Wyatt and Jade as Samuel stumbled away from them and out toward the auto yard. Samuel raised his hand and called out, “It’s all good! You can come out now!”

It was as though Samuel had restarted time with his words. Matthew’s jaw dropped as he saw dirty faces of men, women, and children emerge from the cars parked in the auto yard. A child’s shriek cut through the air, and two kids around eight or nine darted from behind a VW Bug and ran across the dirt and gravel without any shoes on.

“Oh my god,” Jade said. Matthew slowly walked farther into the auto yard, finally seeing what the cars had hidden before. Empty crushed soda cans littered the weed-covered gravel. Beer bottles had been piled around another car as though it were the designated dump site. Garbage had been piled on the car’s hood or heaped around its tires. It smelled of trash, sweat, and dirt. Matthew’s eyes widened when another kid about ten years old sped by him and screamed out, “Dad! You’ll never guess what I found!” The boy ran to one of the tired men who looked like he was trying to make one of the cars into a sleeping space. The man peered at whatever his son had presented, but it was as if he didn’t have the energy to muster any enthusiasm.

“This is…” Wyatt trailed off.

“This is awful,” Matthew finished for him, sounding grim. Everything here was run-down. These people looked as if they hadn’t been inside anywhere but the inside of a car for months. They wore threadbare clothes, and Matthew didn’t want to imagine what they would wear when winter returned. Their faces were sallow and too thin. He didn’t see a water bottle or a food security stash anywhere. These people must have fled to Samuel for protection in the aftermath of the EMP, Matthew thought. They must have thought that Samuel had land and resources that they could build and establish a community on, but instead, they were way worse off than the folks up on the mountain. They were living in run-down cars, for goodness’ sake.

Rage filled Matthew. He wanted to take out Samuel right away and punch the man into the ground. Even here, Samuel looked as if he was trying to rule his own kingdom. Matthew tried to bury his feelings and thoughts. After all, he didn’t know the circumstances of these people. He didn’t know how close they were to Samuel, or if they were his long-time friends. Maybe Samuel was honestly trying to do his best. Whatever the case, Matthew knew he couldn’t let these poor people starve or suffer from dehydration. For all he knew, they’d been existing on soda, candy, and chips.

He looked at Wyatt first. Wyatt’s mouth was tight with displeasure. Jade appeared horrified. A decision had to be made. As much as Matthew hated Samuel, he didn’t wish any of these people any ill. Samuel was still sauntering away from them with that wobbly gait that made it seem like he was drunk. Matthew raised his voice and said, “If your group needs clean water, they can come up to the hotel. We have a well there that is being restored, but still works. They can get clean water to bathe, and we could boil some of it for drinking. I’d be willing to host all of you, under direct supervision that is, if you need it.”

“Well, that’s a kindness I didn’t expect,” Samuel drawled, resurrecting Matthew’s desire to punch him in the face again. Samuel looked back over his shoulder as if in surprise. “I think I can speak for us all that we agree to your terms.” Samuel’s mouth brightened in a smile, making Matthew’s stomach turn to ice. “Direct supervision? That shouldn’t be a problem at all.”

28

For the next two days, Matthew kept a watchful eye on the mountain road that led up to the hotel. He wasn’t going to leave anything to chance, especially not when Samuel West was in the mix and now had an open invitation to visit the hotel whenever it suited him.

When Matthew was working on the well, he made sure someone was his eyes and ears at all times, whether it meant he disrupted Patton and Allison working on the garden, or asked Kathleen to sit on the front porch mending clothes, or volunteering Jade to clean guns with a view of the road. No matter what, someone was always watching the road. His mother was still bedridden with grief, and he knew that he couldn’t bother her while she recovered. No matter what, though, he wasn’t going to let Ruth come under Samuel’s thumb again. Not like before.

The morning of the following day started like any other. Matthew woke up with the sun and put on his weatherworn clothes that had seen better days. He meandered downstairs to grab a meager breakfast, as things were still tight despite the kindness of the fresh food from the gun club, and he was delighted to see that Wyatt had already made it up to the hotel and was waiting for him. Wyatt held out a thick slice of homemade bread, and Matthew took the offering eagerly.

“Brought more venison for you from that deer Patton and the kids took down. We finally salted the rest of it.” Wyatt sipped on tea from one of the hotel-branded mugs. It was funny how the hotel was becoming like a cozy second home for the Marine.

“Thank you,” Matthew said and took a bite of the bread as he walked to the front door to check for any sign of Samuel. Kathleen was supposed to be on patrol, but she must have abandoned her post to make food for everyone. Looking out the window, he almost didn’t believe what he saw. Through the trees beyond the hotel’s property and far in the distance, he could make out shapes coming up the road. He wolfed down the rest of the bread as he counted. It looked like there were four men, with Samuel leading the way.

Matthew bolted back into the dining room. Wyatt looked up from his seat, cradling a cup of tea made of the wild herbs that Kathleen had gathered from around the property. He stopped mid-sip and raised an eyebrow at Matthew.

“They’re here,” Matthew said. “I can’t believe it, Wyatt, but Samuel West actually came here.”

Wyatt jumped to his feet and finished his tea in one gulp. He shoved the teacup on the table, making the old porcelain clatter against the wood. “Are you sure?” he asked, checking his handgun and sliding it into its holster around his waist.

“Positive. I’d recognize him anywhere. Where’s Max at?”

“He went to the gun club,” Wyatt said. “I passed him on my way here this morning. Is Jade around?”

“Yeah, she’s out in the garden with Allison,” Matthew said. “Go fetch her, and I’ll grab the other two pistols. I want to meet Samuel and his men before they get on the property, and there’s no chance that I’ll do it without Jade backing us up.”

Wyatt nodded in agreement. “You got it. Meet out front?”

“Meet out front.”

Wyatt turned and hustled out the door. Matthew retrieved his pistol and another handgun for Jade. Double-checking that they were loaded and ready for action, he holstered his. He didn’t like being so suspicious of others, but he couldn’t trust Samuel. Going out without protection would be a stupid mistake. Every fiber of his being told him that he had to be on his guard. Opening the front door, he saw Jade and Wyatt waiting for him. He gave Jade the gun and the holster. As she settled it around her waist, they looked out across the property again at the small group of men now turning onto the walkway and breaching the hotel’s property.

“I’m ready,” Jade said and without a second look, Matthew started to walk out toward the group. A thousand things ran through his mind about what he should say and do in this situation, but he figured the easiest way would be to be himself and not take any crap from Samuel and his men. He had promised that these people could have water and help. Matthew would keep that promise.

This wasn’t a shakedown. This wasn’t Samuel attacking them. This was simply Samuel taking Matthew up on his offer to get fresh water for his people.

As he got closer to Samuel and his company on the hotel’s driveway, Matthew was able to see that the men carried two buckets each, of varying sizes. Some were larger round containers. Others were repurposed milk jugs. Others held small well buckets that might last a day if the water was rationed carefully. The men looked lean, sickly, and unwashed. Matthew couldn’t understand why they hadn’t brought many more containers to carry water in. That being said, he didn’t understand why there weren’t more people with Samuel to collect fresh water. With their buckets and jugs, they would barely be able to distribute water among their compound members in Galena.

“Glad to see you took me up on my offer,” Matthew said, but he kept his hand on the butt of his gun.

Samuel paused and looked around him as if waiting for an army to emerge out of the woods and attack them. “You sure your offer still stands?” he asked suspiciously.

“Yes,” Matthew said. “Under our supervision, we will escort you to the well. You’re free to take as much water as you need to help your community.” He paused and eyed the containers the men had brought with them again. “It doesn’t look like you brought much, though.”

“Wasn’t sure if the offer was actually genuine,” Samuel shot back.

Matthew gritted his teeth and tried to keep down a swell of anger. He understood that, he supposed. Samuel didn’t trust him and his family. Thus, it was highly likely that Samuel had poisoned the people in his compound against Matthew’s family and those living up at the hotel. It checked out that the compound members would travel light and without many people, in the event Matthew went back on his word. If Matthew was going to forge a new relationship with Samuel and his community, he had to be a good neighbor first. He had made the first gesture of goodwill. Now it was time for him to prove that he could be trustworthy. Then, hopefully the other members of Samuel’s compound would come back with more containers to take more water.

“Well, it is,” Matthew said. “And I suppose if you need to borrow more buckets or containers to haul more water back to Galena, you’re welcome to those. I wouldn’t want your people dehydrating because we weren’t able to be civil to each other.”

Samuel eyed Matthew up and down. His eyes then drifted beyond Matthew to take in Jade and Wyatt, who both stood silently during the exchange. He glanced at the woods again and then nodded slowly. “I appreciate the offer,” he drawled, “but we brought just what we need. You don’t need to worry about us. I know how to take care of my people.”

Matthew tried to hide his exasperation with a shrug. The other men behind Samuel seemed oddly quiet, as if they were scared to make a peep while Samuel was talking. He wondered if Samuel ruled the community in Galena with an iron fist. Perhaps Samuel used the same tactics he’d employed when he took over the hotel and tried to force Ruth and Patton into servitude.

He bit his lip and stomped down on the desire to ask Samuel’s men if they were all right. He heard his father in the back of his mind saying that he couldn’t play the hero, especially not now. Maybe, if they could establish trust between the hotel and the community, then Matthew could work out a new solution to fix Samuel’s compound’s living situation. As of right now, he needed to make sure Samuel was on his best behavior and that no one on the hotel came to any harm. In a way, these men were Samuel’s men. Matthew had to let that go.

“All right then,” Matthew said and motioned Samuel to follow him around the hotel to where the well was located. Wyatt and Jade naturally split and flanked the group of Samuel’s men. Jade took up the rear and Wyatt walked to one side, keeping a close eye on the others. Matthew took the lead, and as much as he hated having his back turned to Samuel, he knew Jade and Wyatt would protect him as much as they could.

He walked by the garden and noticed that Allison, Patton, and Lauren were absent from it. Jade had most likely shooed them back inside when she learned that Samuel was on his way. He appreciated her quick thinking and once more felt glad that Jade was part of their family. She’d made sure no one was milling around the property while Samuel and his crew were here. Without the hustle and bustle of people doing tasks, it almost made the hotel feel like a ghost town. Matthew was so used to seeing activity on the grounds, that not having members of his own family or the gun club doing some kind of chore seemed odd. Whatever the case, he steered Samuel and his men clear of the garden just to avoid a possible sneer from Samuel. He didn’t want Samuel to see how they’d already begun to recover the garden and start thinking that he should destroy it again.

When they reached the well, Wyatt and Jade came around to stand next to Matthew in front of it. Matthew gestured to the redone exterior, courtesy of Shawn. “The water is good,” he began, “but I’d still recommend boiling it before you drink any of it. There is still dirt and muck that is mixing with it and we don’t have the means to test any of it for parasites or bacteria. Better to be safe than sorry, but boiling it should be fairly easy.”

The men looked at Samuel. Samuel chewed on his lip and made a sound of agreement. His eyes darted from Matthew to Jade and Wyatt before scanning the tree line.

Matthew frowned. Was he even listening? He didn’t want Samuel’s men to take the water back to Galena and drink it without proper precautions. He didn’t want to be on the hook if something went wrong and someone in the community fell ill. He didn’t want to be responsible for one of the kids getting some kind of parasite. “Like I said, the water should come up clear, for the most part,” he reiterated. “But you’ll still want to be safe.”

An uneasy silence followed his proclamation. Then, as if finally coming to a decision, Samuel took a step forward and tore his gaze away from the tree line. “Thank you for your concern,” he mumbled, but it seemed to lack his attention to cruelty. Why did it seem as though Samuel was distracted?

Matthew nodded and moved aside, walking away from the well to let them have access. The forest was behind him. Jade and Wyatt followed until the three of them were behind the group. Samuel’s hulking figure peered into the well, and once more Matthew had that uneasy feeling that Samuel wasn’t thinking about the well water at all. Something else seemed to be on his mind. Could he be planning to poison the well? Was there something he could drop into it that would ruin the water for good?

One of the men following Samuel stumbled on an exposed tree root. The man beside him reached out to steady his arm, but the bucket he was holding jostled hard against his leg. The bucket made a strange thunking sound. Matthew’s heart stopped in his chest.

Why would an empty bucket sound as if it distinctly had something inside of it? These men weren’t here for the water. They were here to…

Matthew’s eyes flew up to Wyatt’s. It seemed as if their thoughts passed seamlessly from one to the other. They both grabbed Jade—Wyatt gripped her arm, while Matthew wrenched her shoulder back, pushing the three of them into a tumble on the ground. Jade squawked with surprise and landed hard on her back just as Matthew saw Samuel whip around with guns in his hands. The Galena community men parted like the Red Sea, giving Samuel a clear shot. Samuel was aiming straight for them.

It felt like the world had gone into slow motion. The blasts from Samuel’s gun deafened Matthew for a moment, but at the same time, he strangely heard the pfft of the bullets whizzing by where they had been previously standing.

They’re trying to kill us, Matthew thought as he scrambled backward. Jade was faster than both of them, and she leapt to her feet. Matthew wasn’t sure if she shot off a round before she was grabbing Matthew’s shoulder and dragging him to his feet. One of Samuel’s men grunted with pain and fell to his knees. The other men fumbled with their containers and pulled out weapons of their own. The roar of gunfire filled the air, and the ground around Matthew’s feet puffed up in more explosions of dirt. Wyatt uttered a low growl of frustration before the three of them were running back toward the tree line.

Jade pushed Matthew in the arm when he almost ran into her, and he realized that she was zig-zagging through the sparse expanse of flat land before they dove into the woods, making it difficult for Samuel to anticipate her movements. Picking up on the technique, Matthew bolted in a similar pattern and swerved into the trees, hoping to change his position and lead Samuel’s men away from the hotel. Behind him, he heard Samuel’s men curse and the sound of them running in pursuit. His breath wheezed in his lungs. Blood roared in his ears. Every instinct he had was telling him to escape and to lead the gunfire away from his family at the hotel rather than closer to them. Fear seemed almost secondary to the need to run, until he realized that the need and fear were the same thing.

He thought he heard the sound of gunfire following him, and for a moment that need and fear turned into terror. What if Samuel had men posted further into the trees, waiting to take them out? Was that why he had been watching the tree line so diligently? But there was nowhere else to go. They had to find cover. Running for the hotel would leave them too exposed. This was worth the risk.

Wyatt grunted next to Matthew when his shoulder hit a low-lying branch. Concern filled Matthew. Usually the Marine was unflappable, but that small grunt said more than a thousand words. Wyatt had been hit. Matthew didn’t know where or how bad, but they couldn’t stop running. They had to keep moving if they wanted to stay alive.

29

Kathleen reached across the dining room table and began to stack the dirty bowls, plates, and coffee cups from breakfast into a pile. What passed for coffee sloshed in one of the porcelain cups that Matthew—or maybe it was Wyatt—had left behind. She noticed that Patton had eaten every scrap from his plate, leaving it nearly clean. Allison had done the same. Once, the two of them might have been pickier about what they were served in the morning, but now they wolfed it all down without complaint. Even Allison had moved from drinking water to sipping on the crushed nuts and herbs Kathleen had been experimenting with to create her coffee-like concoction.

As she continued to clean, she saw Ruth meander out from the kitchen into the dining room. Her eyes were red and watery, but her bun was neat and tidy. Kathleen was pleased to see her. Ruth had been bedridden since David’s passing. Kathleen knew that Ruth didn’t have any regrets about her marriage with David, and that she wasn’t flagellating herself for past deeds, but she and David had been together for thirty-plus years. To suddenly have a partner of that long standing no longer be part of your every day… Kathleen couldn’t imagine it. She understood that Ruth would always be marked by David’s death, but she seemed to be recovering from it better than expected and emerged from her room to pick at breakfast and sip her tea and stare out the window at the mountains.

Kathleen smiled at her mother-in-law. “How are you?” she asked, trying to mask the worry in her voice.

Ruth gave her a weak smile back. “My hands are cracked and raw from cleaning pots without lemon-scented detergent, but I’ll manage. I wish we had more lotion around than the hotel stuff. I hate to say it, but it doesn’t do much.”

“Maybe we will need to learn how to make something like that, too,” Kathleen said as she lifted the dirty plates. “It’s my turn to put my hands into soapy water. Sounds like you already did the big pots.”

“Let me,” Ruth said, taking the plates from her. “I’m already wet and covered in suds.”

“I can dry,” Kathleen said.

“Deal. But first we should clean the table up.”

Kathleen nodded and felt relieved to have the banter between her and Ruth return. They hadn’t always been close, and had butted heads more than once, but it was almost like normalcy was returning now that Ruth was taking on tasks and helping out. Together, they made a trip to the kitchen with their hands full of dishes and dumped them into the bucket of sudsy water for cleaning.

“Let them soak for a minute,” Kathleen said, waving her hand at it. “There’s more upstairs.”

As they walked back up and piled utensils into a serving dish, Kathleen heard the front door open and shut. She looked up. She hadn’t been expecting Patton and Allison until at least lunchtime. The garden would have taken up their whole morning. Matthew was with Wyatt at the well. The Marine had been spending a lot of time at the hotel and was pretty much considered one of the family. Kathleen always made sure to cook extra just in case he popped his head in asking for a cup of tea or a glass of water.

When she saw Nikki round the corner and come into the dining room, she relaxed. “Hi,” Kathleen said and was pleased to see that Ruth even gave the doctor a small smile. “Long time, no see.”

Nikki looked apologetic. “I know,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I guess I haven’t been around much…”

“Not much to be around for,” Ruth said. “It makes sense that you have more important things to do at the gun club.”

“Thank you for understanding,” Nikki said and she paused. “I do hope you’re all okay. I wish I could have done more. It’s just...it’s always hard to lose a patient.”

“You did everything you could have,” Ruth said firmly, and Kathleen wondered if she might start crying before Ruth changed the subject. “What can we help you with now?”

“I wondered if I could grab some of the leftover medical supplies from David’s room,” Nikki said. She spoke too fast, as if she was nervous. “I was hoping I could take them back to the gun club. I’m trying to start a supply cupboard system that anyone can use and understand the drugs and equipment. You know, set up a check-in, check-out system. I hoped I could take the rest of it back with me. If that’s okay.”

Kathleen felt her heart twang. The poor woman obviously felt as though she’d failed David and thus, by proxy, had failed the Riley family. The way she stuttered and looked so worried must be because she was concerned about stepping over a line or angering them. “Of course,” Kathleen said and gave Nikki a generous smile, hoping to show the doctor that no one at the hotel held any ill will toward her. “We haven’t actually been in the suite since David passed, so everything is most likely where you left it.”

“We should have brought the supplies to you,” Ruth added as she wiped at her eyes with her elbow. “I don’t know what we were thinking. We should have known you’d need them.”

“Oh, no worries,” Nikki said with a wave of her hand. “It’s been hard on everyone. I wasn’t expecting anything of the sort. If you don’t mind, I’ll just head in the room and take inventory. Shouldn’t be long.”

“Feel free,” Kathleen said as she dropped a moist towel on the table and began to scoop up the crumbs left over from breakfast.

Nikki lingered for a moment, but then nodded her thanks and turned to walk toward the suite of rooms. Ruth and Kathleen continued to clean up, but their familiar chit-chat had taken a backseat to thoughtful silence. Kathleen was thinking how quiet the hotel seemed without David’s vivacity, and she knew that Ruth felt the same. He would always be in their thoughts.

Together, they finished clearing the table, took the used dishes to the kitchen, and dunked the rest of the dishes into the bucket. Ruth plunged her hands in without a second thought and scrubbed the dishes vigorously before handing the rinsed plates over to Kathleen. Kathleen dried and stacked the cleaned plates in their cupboards. It was strange how she found herself handling them so delicately. Before the EMP, if she cracked a plate or chipped the edge, she would feel terrible, but the feeling never lasted. After all, she knew she could always go and pick up a new set at the store and upgrade to a new color. Sometimes, she’d buy new dishware simply because she wanted to change styles. Yet now she realized these plates would be the only plates they would have for a long time. The forks and spoons would become old friends and be reused time and time again. The mugs—from the ridiculous campy ones with dumb logos on them from trips, to the more delicate porcelain tea cups that came with the hotel—were just as precious as the tools used to fix things that broke around the hotel.

Once the kitchen was cleaned, both she and Ruth walked back upstairs. Kathleen wiped her dry hands on her arms, hating how cracked her skin looked, and frowned. Ruth was right. They needed to figure out how to make lotion or some kind of salve to save their skin.

Kathleen expected to see Nikki waiting for them in the dining room, but the doctor was nowhere to be found. Kathleen peered around the room to check if Nikki was waiting for them by the front door, but she was still absent. Kathleen frowned. Nikki would have said goodbye at least. Kathleen was sure of it. Even though she hadn’t been by the hotel since David had passed, they were close enough to warrant a hello and a goodbye. Kathleen felt a pang of disappointment in her heart.

It was strange, but Kathleen missed working with Nikki in the sick room. She missed learning all the things Nikki had to teach her. At least twenty minutes had passed as she and Ruth had cleaned up the kitchen. Nikki should have been in and out of David’s old suite by now.

“That’s weird,” Kathleen murmured to Ruth. “I wonder if Nikki left already?”

“Probably not,” Ruth said. “Maybe there was more left behind than we thought.”

“Do you think? I can’t remember,” Kathleen said and then paused. “Maybe I should go check up on her?”

“She might need some help,” Ruth said. “I know how awkward some of that medical equipment can be. She might need some help hauling the supplies back to the gun club.”

“Hmm,” Kathleen said and gave Ruth a sly look. “Maybe we can get Patton to help her out.”

Ruth laughed. “Oh, you softie. You’re just looking for an excuse to lift that ban on him.”

“I know,” Kathleen said and lingered by the doorway, torn between checking up on Nikki and indulging in conversation with Ruth. “Matthew isn’t a fan of those other boys that Patton hung out with at the gun club on principle only, but I know Patton is chomping at the bit to go see them.”

“Teenagers are bound to test limits,” Ruth said, her voice softening with advice. “Plus, he needs to be around children his own age. He needs to make friends.”

“I can’t believe we’re calling Patton a teenager,” Kathleen admitted.

“I know. It seems like yesterday that he was a little boy,” Ruth said. “He used to be such a sweetheart, and now he’s grown up so much.”

“But he has been working in the garden without complaint,” Kathleen pointed out, and she couldn’t fight the smile crossing her face. “Maybe he does deserve a reward for such good behavior and hard work. Don’t you think?”

“A reward his father doesn’t need to know about until later?” Ruth said with a grin, and motioned for Kathleen to go down the hallway. “Take care of Nikki and then send your boy on an adventure. It will be a pleasure not to see him moping around the hotel anymore. I’m due for him to fill an hour of my time with his ramblings about everything he’s done, and I don’t want to hear about gardening.”

“I’ll give you all the credit. Patton will think it was all your idea,” Kathleen said as she turned and walked down the hallway. It felt good to joke with Ruth and have her mother-in-law smile again. She knew grieving would be a slow process, but at least Ruth was facing it bravely. She knew that Matthew was pushing his feelings down, but Ruth was facing them as much as she could.

The door to the suite was half-open. Kathleen pushed it fully open carefully without looking. When she glanced up, she made a small gasp and came to a standstill. In front of her, Nikki stood with a gun in her hands pointed straight at Kathleen’s face. Kathleen’s heart clenched in her chest, and for a moment her mind went blank with white static. Nikki’s arms shook and the gun wavered a bit.

“What are you doing?” Kathleen asked, her voice breathy with fear. Her heart thundered against her ribs. “Nikki, for god’s sake, what are you doing?”

“Call for Ruth,” Nikki said, her voice flat as though she’d never met Kathleen before. “Right now.”

“Put the gun down,” Kathleen said and motioned for Nikki to lower the weapon. “You don’t want to do this. You don’t want to hurt me. Nikki, we’re friends.”

“Do what I said,” Nikki said and her voice strengthened with authority. She straightened her elbows, and the shaking in her hands stopped. She bent her knees. “Call for Ruth, Kathleen. Right now.”

“Why are you doing this?” Kathleen said. “Don’t do it. You can have anything you need. You don’t need to take anything from us like this.”

“Call for Ruth or I’ll shoot,” Nikki demanded, and her face hardened so that Kathleen barely recognized her. “I swear, Kathleen, I will shoot you.”

Kathleen swallowed hard and looked behind Nikki. Nikki hadn’t taken anything from the room, and Kathleen couldn’t understand what had possessed Nikki to do this to her. Her fear overwhelmed her, but she didn’t want her children to lose their mother. She didn’t want Matthew to raise them alone. Maybe at some point she could fight Nikki with Ruth on her side.

“Don’t force me to do this,” Nikki said in a dark voice.

“Don’t shoot Ruth,” Kathleen said.

“Don’t make me,” Nikki said.

Kathleen cleared her throat, but her voice wouldn’t come out at first. When she called out, Kathleen knew her voice was too small to reach Ruth out in the dining room.

“Louder,” Nikki said. “I’m serious, Kathleen. I’m not playing around.”

Kathleen called out louder, and Ruth’s name echoed around her. She heard Ruth’s voice call back and then get louder as Ruth came down the hallway, answering Kathleen’s call. Nikki’s eyes flickered to the door and then focused back on Kathleen.

“Ruth!” Kathleen called louder, hating herself for what she was doing. She was directly putting her mother-in-law in danger because she was worried about her own fate and her own family. But she had to do what Nikki commanded. She couldn’t let her children or her family down. Hopefully, Nikki would just take whatever it was she wanted and leave their lives for good.

She heard footsteps heading down the hallway. The gun looked like a black hole staring right at her, ready to suck her away from this life. She realized she was shaking with fear. Then the sharp blast of gunfire reached her ears. She winced, believing for a moment that Nikki had fired a round.

The gunshots rang out again.

The sound was coming from outside. Kathleen glanced at the window, as if she might see something—anything—but she knew she wouldn’t be able to see a thing except for the sky. The gun blasts increased in volume and frequency. Kathleen started to breathe erratically with terror.

Somehow, the hotel was under attack. They were under attack.

30

The sound of gunfire filled Matthew’s ears as he wove around the thick trees and headed farther into the woods. Farther away from the hotel, he thought with despair, even as the ground at his feet exploded in tufts of dirt and grass. Sometimes bullets would explode nearby branches, making wood rain down on them like a new kind of shrapnel. His heart was in his throat, and he knew they couldn’t keep doing this for long. They had to prove they could fight back. Even though Matthew, Jade, and Wyatt were leading Samuel’s men away from the hotel, it still meant that the rest of the Riley family were sitting ducks.

His pistol was still in its holster around his waist. He removed it in one smooth motion and clicked the safety off even as he launched himself over a rotted log and felt the debris from a missed gunshot spray up behind him. Jade’s idea to weave through the woods was saving his life right about now.

He hunkered down behind a tree, fired once, twice, three times, and nearly cried out in success when he heard the muffled cries of anger from his opponents. That left two men in pursuit of them. He hoped this meant that the other men would be more cautious now that they knew Matthew, Jade, and Wyatt could give just as good as they got. He pushed up off the tree and bolted further into the woods to catch up with Jade and a limping Wyatt.

Once he was close enough, Jade dodged behind a trunk and returned fire at Samuel’s men, but it seemed as if she was aiming more to create obstacles than to hit those who were chasing them. The answering gunfire slackened off for a moment. Matthew’s ears rang in the silence. He smelled the sharp reek of gunpowder. In the brief moment of reprieve, Jade motioned them forward and pointed into the woods. “There,” she whispered, her breathing heavy from running.

Matthew followed her line of sight to see two large trees growing next to each other in somewhat of a V-shape. Moss, old branches, and woodland debris surrounded the old trees. It would be a perfect shield for them to regroup and take a stand before deciding what to do next. Together, they ran for the trees.

Matthew and Jade easily outpaced Wyatt. Matthew skidded to the ground on his knees and yanked Wyatt down and around so that the Marine rested with his back against the tree and was completely covered. Wyatt grunted in pain, but Matthew didn’t have time to find out what was wrong. Not yet, at least. He had his pistol up to his eye and was carefully aiming, glad that they finally had a moment where he could really focus and aim.

Jade leaned up against the other trunk and peered around it. She carefully aimed her gun, but ducked back as a new round of gunshots pinged around them. Bark flew off the trees, and the bullets made thunking sounds as they embedded into the trunks. Matthew jerked back and together he and Jade waited for silence before they both returned fire. Matthew’s gunshot exploded leaves off one tree, but Jade hit the mark, and one of Samuel’s men grasped his shoulder with a cry of agony. One down. One left.

Except that the wounded man climbed back up to his knees, switched his gun to the other hand, and shot back at them again. Matthew ducked back around the tree and covered his head as the gunfire made more leaves, pine needles, and moss fly up around their shield. When he glanced around the tree again, he saw Samuel’s lumbering form following the other men. There were still two remaining. Samuel cocked his shotgun, but Matthew already had his gun aimed and ready to take the betrayer out.

But he immediately had to duck back around the tree again as more gunshots pelted around him. He cursed and then looked at Jade. She winced as bark flew up around her and they shared a moment of panicked comradery. At least they were in this semblance of a foxhole together. He looked around his shield, frantic to locate Samuel, but the man had disappeared from view. Matthew searched for any sign of him, but Samuel was gone.

Where could he have gone? Matthew suddenly knew even as his stomach dropped with fear. Another round of gunfire exploded the natural shield around him, and he lunged back behind the tree. “He’s going back to the hotel,” Matthew said and then realized that neither Wyatt nor Jade could hear him. “He’s going back to the hotel!” Matthew shouted.

He looked at Wyatt who was hunched next to him, but it seemed as if his words were lost in the ear-shattering sound of constant gunfire. The Marine tried to stand and leaned heavily against the quickly eroding tree. Matthew’s eyes widened as he saw the blood pouring from Wyatt’s thigh and soaking through his jeans. Wyatt grunted and his teeth were gritted in pain. Another round of gunshots exploded around him, and part of the tree trunk near Wyatt’s head teetered, broke off, and fell away. Terror cascaded through Matthew as he reached over and yanked Wyatt down, as another bullet whizzed past where Wyatt’s head had just been.

Together, they landed on the forest floor with a whoosh, and Wyatt cried out in pain. His hands scrabbled to clutch his wounded thigh. Matthew covered Wyatt as more blasting gunfire exploded around them. The Marine needed medical help and fast. Matthew knew next to nothing about medical attention of this caliber, but he knew by the way the blood from Wyatt’s thigh wound splattered on him that Wyatt was in trouble. Wyatt was tough as nails, and if this kind of wound had him staggering instead of gritting his teeth to make it through in one piece, it was a bad sign. Another round of gunfire deafened Matthew, but this time it was from Jade’s gun. Matthew glanced up and let out a breath of relief. Jade was still holding out and hadn’t been wounded or hurt. She was covering for both of them.

Matthew helped scoot Wyatt behind a new tree for cover as Jade continued to shoot back at Samuel’s men. Matthew breathed hard. “How are we going to get out of here?” he said close to Wyatt’s ear. “We have to get back to the hotel.”

“We don’t want to bring this kind of heat onto the hotel,” Wyatt said back, panting heavily. His face screwed up in pain as he shifted his legs. “We need to draw them away from everyone else.”

“That’s exactly what Samuel is counting on,” Matthew said.

Wyatt looked at him in confusion and agony glazed his eyes over. “What do you mean?”

“I saw Samuel coming toward us,” Matthew explained. “Only, he wasn’t shooting at us. Not like these two guys are. I think he was making sure we were occupied while he goes back to the hotel to take it over. He wants to keep us pinned in the woods by these two chuckleheads until we either give up, run out of bullets, or get too far away from the hotel to stop him from taking it back. Don’t you see?”

Wyatt’s jaw dropped in understanding. “Oh my god. He knows we’re the heavy hitters of the group. He knows we have most of the weaponry with us. The hotel isn’t defenseless, but a lot of the guys from the gun club aren’t close by.” Horror filled his eyes. “The kids are there.”

“I know,” Matthew said, already terrified for his children. He knew Kathleen and Ruth were tough, but keeping Allison and Patton safe would be their top priority. If Samuel threatened them, he knew his wife and mother would surrender to keep them safe, even if it meant that Samuel would take over the hotel. “We need to get back there as soon as possible,” Matthew finished.

Wyatt gripped his arm so tight it hurt. “You have to go,” he said to Matthew. “You have to go and warn them.”

More gunfire whizzed by. Matthew and Wyatt ducked. How many bullets did they have? Matthew knew his mouth had thinned into a grim line. More than likely, Samuel had a stockpile of bullets before the EMP, and he probably collected as much ammunition as he could after the EMP. He wouldn’t have come back to take the hotel without bringing a whole armory.

Unlike Samuel’s men, Matthew knew they had a limited supply. Soon they would run out. What would happen then? Would Samuel’s men take them prisoner? Or would they execute them all in the woods? By the way they were attacking them now, Matthew doubted that Samuel cared one way or the other if he ended up dying.

The real question was, would he have the same mindset toward those at the hotel?

Jade returned a volley of shots and then scooted behind the tree more fully as more bullets tore apart the tree that was shielding her. The shield was quickly turning into nothing. Her hands went up over her head, keeping the exploding bark and dirt from raining down on top of her.

“I can’t leave you guys,” Matthew said to Wyatt. “You’re wounded. Jade can’t do everything on her own. We’re going to run out of bullets soon.”

“You have to,” Wyatt said, and if it was possible his hands on Matthew’s arm tightened even more. “You have to go and rescue your family. I might be wounded, but you shouldn’t worry about us.” He grinned at Matthew. “I’ve been through worse.”

“You’re a bad liar,” Matthew said. “All you’ll be able to do is make one last stand. You can’t run.”

“No. Listen to me. Use the trees as cover and go back toward the hotel, but go around the men. There are only two left, and they won’t be expecting that. Jade and I will lead them away from the hotel and somehow meet up with you again. I can still walk, I promise. You have to get your kids to safety. Your mom. Your wife. Jade and I will get through this, I swear to you.”

“Wyatt, I can’t—”

“It’s a solid plan,” Wyatt insisted. “Your family can’t bury you too. Go.”

Matthew took in a deep breath, struggling with his desire to leave, but hating to abandon his friends. It felt like another kind of betrayal. Yet Wyatt’s face was stern, as if he wouldn’t take no for an answer, and Matthew knew that time was running short. He didn’t have time to dilly-dally with what-ifs. He remembered his father’s advice and knew he had to trust Wyatt. Finally, he nodded. “Okay,” Matthew said. “Okay, fine. But if you die on me, I will be so mad at both of you.”

“I’ll tell Jade.” Wyatt glanced over at her and they shared a knowing look. He shoved Matthew weakly. “Go. Hurry!”

The sound of gunfire lessened, and as Jade turned and shot once again into the woods, Matthew kept low to the ground and ran, keeping in cover as he bolted away from his friends.

He hoped against hope that he would see Jade and Wyatt again.

31

Patton sat on top one of the spare room’s beds with a deck of cards spread out between him and Allison. Allison shifted up onto her elbow and made the cards slide to the left, but at least she didn’t mess up the whole game. She eyed her cards and gave Patton one of those looks that told him victory would soon be his. He pretended not to notice. His poker face was getting better and better.

At some point in the early morning, Wyatt had come out to retrieve Jade. The two adults had spoken to each other in low whispering tones that annoyed Patton more than he wanted to admit. Finally, after a couple of secrets passed back and forth, Jade had shooed Allison and Patton back inside, saying that they needed to take care of business. They sent Lauren running for the gun club on some pretense that she was needed just because. Whatever that meant. Patton hated when adults got all secretive like that. It was like they thought he and Allison didn’t get that something was going on. Like, they couldn’t pick up on obvious social cues. Ugh. People didn’t just tell you to go inside because something good was happening. Nope, something stank to high heaven, and no one wanted to tell him where it was coming from.

He sighed and looked up at his sister. “Do you have any kings?”

She glared at him and handed over two cards.

“Ha!” Patton cried out and laid his cards face up on the bedspread.

“This is a dumb game,” Allison said, pulling her cards closer to her chest.

“That’s because you’re losing.” Patton eyed her remaining cards. “Got any fives, sis?”

“God, you’re annoying,” Allison said as she handed over another card.

“Sore loser,” Patton retaliated and laid his final cards down. “Victorious once again, good lady. Will you once more attempt to defeat me?”

Allison’s eyes narrowed at him. “Bring it on. You’re so full of yourself.”

Patton grinned and gathered the cards into a single deck. He started shuffling, but the sudden sound of a gunshot startled him and made the cards slip from his hands and cover the bedspread like the worst version of fifty-two pick-up. Allison leapt to her feet. “Did you hear that?” she demanded. She bolted toward the window and looked outside.

“How could I not?” Patton said, dumping the rest of the cards on the bedspread and standing up. “Allison! Seriously? Get down!”

Only a moment passed before another round of gunshots came from outside the hotel. Blam-blam-blam-blam!

“Oh my god,” Allison said, looking sick, but at least she scooted to the edge of the window. “Is someone shooting at us? I don’t see anything.”

“I don’t know,” Patton said, opening the room’s door and heading out. If they were under attack, there was only one thing to do. “C’mon, we need to get armed.”

Allison tried to stay out of the window’s line of sight and followed him out the door. Patton led the way and walked quickly to where Matthew kept the guns. When he saw the glass cabinet, he frowned. Most of the weaponry was gone. He realized that this was the reason why Wyatt and Jade had asked him and Allison to leave their gardening for later in the afternoon. The shotgun and most of the handguns were missing, but one rifle and a handgun remained. Without hesitation, he flung open the glass cabinet and took the rifle out.

Blam-blam-blam-blam! More gunshots came from outside the hotel. At least they sounded far away.

“Patton,” Allison hissed. “You’re not supposed to touch any of the guns. Remember what Mom and Dad said? You’re grounded.”

“I’m pretty sure at this point I’ll be forgiven. I’ll risk getting grounded again,” Patton said. He opened the rifle and checked that it was loaded. Then he grabbed a handful of bullets that were stashed at the base of the cabinet and stuffed his pockets full. For a fleeting moment, he thanked his friends at the gun club for teaching him how to use guns properly. Without their advice and teaching, he’d be a complete mess. He wouldn’t really know what to do. But now? He felt confident he could defend the hotel and keep his sister safe.

Allison was a different story.

Patton reached in the cabinet and took the handgun out. He handed it to Allison, who looked at the gun as if she were holding a poisonous snake. Another round of gunfire sounded from outside, but it sounded fainter, as if it was going in the opposite direction.

“I’m not a good shot like you are,” Allison said faintly. “I’m good at using a rake and a trowel, but Patton, you remember what I was like when Jade was teaching us how to shoot. I sucked.”

“You didn’t suck,” Patton said. A strange role-reversal was happening as Allison looked at him with wide, fearful eyes. Usually it was Allison supporting him. Usually she guided him or gave him confidence to complete something...or irritated him enough that he did the task out of spite. He needed to do the same for her right now. “Okay, sure, I’m more familiar with guns than you are, but you don’t have to be scared of it. You know how to use it. Just remember Jade’s training and you’ll manage it just fine. You don’t want to be unarmed, right?”

“No,” Allison said, and she looked green. Another blast of gunfire caused them both to grow quiet. Allison’s face hardened with determination. “I can do this. Let’s go find Mom and Grandma.”

“That’s the spirit!” Patton said, and together they hustled back toward the front lobby area. It was empty, but Patton motioned for Allison to stay away from the both the big picture windows and the ones that had been boarded up. They needed a spot where they could look outside without being spotted.

Allison snuck closer to another smaller window that was positioned higher on the wall. One of the large couches had been pushed underneath it, but there was enough room for the two of them to squeeze side by side behind it. They were bracketed by the wall on one side and the couch on the other. At the sound of gunfire, the two of them ducked down and Patton was pleased at their position. They had enough cover in case someone came through the front doors, and they could see out the window, even if it was a little high for him.

Patton grinned at Allison and tried to fight the rush of excitement flowing through him. Even though he knew they were most likely facing a horde of evildoers, it still felt cool to be this awesome with his sister. He knew she would have his back. He knew he would have hers.

Allison poked her head up and got onto her feet. Slowly, she eased up against one side of the window and peered out. “Crap,” she whispered.

“What is it?” Patton asked, keeping the rifle low as he raised himself up on his knees and finally his feet to look out the window. He wished he was taller, but he could still clearly make out the threat. Three men stood near the side of the hotel. Each of them had guns, and they seemed to be looking out toward the tree line as if waiting for something. Or someone.

Patton and Allison ducked back down. The couch cast enough of a shadow to make it seem like they were hiding in a den. If the men decided to look through the window, they wouldn’t be able to see them, where they were squashed between the wall and the back of the couch. At the moment, they were in the best possible spot to defend the hotel.

Patton stared at his sister. “We have to take them out,” he said in a low voice.

“We don’t even know who they are,” Allison protested.

“You think some friendlies from the gun club waltzed up here with guns drawn?” Patton demanded. “You think Wyatt’s men would simply wait by the hotel while there’s gunfire in the distance? I’ve never seen either of them before in my life!” Patton shot her an incredulous look. “What do you think is happening, Allison? They’re trying to take over the hotel!”

He clamped down on the fear in his voice. His mind was full of images that threatened to build up the fear into absolute terror. He remembered what it had been like to be kidnapped. He remembered the terror he’d first felt when Samuel West had held him and Grandma captive. He remembered how useless he felt, how out of control.

Whoever was here at the hotel—armed, without announcing their presence—clearly showed they were not allies. They were enemies through and through. Patton had learned the hard way that if someone needed help from the hotel, they wouldn’t ask for it by flashing all the weapons they owned. At the gun club, Wyatt had cultivated a strict kindness. There was always careful peace.

No, these guys were here for nothing good.

“What do you suggest we do?” Allison hissed, and it broke the spell that had almost taken Patton over.

“Well, we can’t very well ask them in for tea, can we?” Patton shot back. “They’re probably waiting for reinforcements. We need to take them out as soon as possible.”

“Patton, you can’t kill them!” Allison whispered. She sounded shocked.

“I’m not going to,” Patton said, and he laid a hand over hers. “You are.”

Allison stared at him as if he’d sprouted an additional head.

“You’re taller than I am,” he whispered. “You can manage to get the handgun pointed out the window and aimed better than me. I can’t use the rifle unless we push the couch right up against the wall and I stand on it. With things being so quiet, they’ll hear that.”

“I can’t kill them,” Allison said. “I can’t do it.”

“Then maim them,” Patton said. Time was slipping away. Each passing moment was another moment when they could be attacked. “We’re losing time. Those guys could walk in here and blast us all to pieces. They don’t care about us, Allison. Do you want that to happen?”

“No,” Allison said slowly. “But remember I’m the bad shot out of the two of us.”

“You’ll be fine,” Patton said. “They’re close enough you’ll be able to hit them. Just take out a leg or an arm. Something to scare them off that shows we aren’t messing around.”

Allison closed her eyes tightly and then nodded. “Okay. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but okay.”

“Atta girl,” Patton said with a wide grin.

Allison scowled. “Don’t try to sound like Dad.”

“Sorry,” Patton said as he double-checked that the rifle’s safety was on. He slid it underneath the couch and then slowly eased himself upwards. He unlatched the window and pushed it up and open without a sound. Patton congratulated himself on oiling the windows after Samuel had smashed the broken picture window out front. It felt like a lifetime ago.

He lowered himself back down and saw that Allison was clutching the handgun tightly. Her eyes were screwed shut and her lips moved silently. She wasn’t the praying type, so he wasn’t sure what she was saying, but if it helped her find her courage, he wasn’t going to interrupt her.

“Okay,” Allison finally said. “I’m ready.”

She still looked as if she might vomit, though. Allison thumbed the safety aside and stood up, keeping to the side so that she wasn’t in plain view of the window. She poked the handgun out the opening. Patton watched from his crouch on the floor as her breathing slowed.

“Just take your time,” he whispered from below. “Remember what Jade taught us? Your stance looks great. Don’t jerk the trigger, and you’ll be able to hit your target. Remember this handgun shoots a little high, so make sure you aim a little low.”

He expected her to respond with some kind of snarky comeback, telling him to shut up, but instead she just gave a slight nod of the head. Patton covered his ears and braced for the gunshot. Allison widened her stance a touch. He wondered what the men outside were doing. What idiots! They’d think twice about invading the Rileys’ home again.

Allison’s first shot seemed to suck out any other sound in the room. Even though Patton had plugged his ears, he still heard the cry of shocked pain cut through from one of the men from outside. A wave of pride filled him. Nice going, Allison!

“Keep going!” he whispered up to his sister. They couldn’t stop with just one man down. She needed to hit the rest of them.

She popped off another round and then he heard her hiss a curse. “They’re leaving, Patton,” she said as she shot off another round. “I got one but not the others.”

Patton popped his head up to see that one of the men was rolling on the ground clutching his leg. Two other figures sprinted for the woods, and Patton let out a hoot of success. “Nice going, Allison.”

“Shut up, Patton, just shut up,” Allison said in a shaky voice. “Get down. They might return fire once they’re out of range. If you get shot I will not be responsible.”

Patton ducked behind the window and leaned against the back of the couch. He grinned up at his sister. She looked so cool standing there with the gun and her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Like a badass mix of Lara Croft and Jade. “You did it, Allison!” he whispered up at her. “You did it!”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Patton frowned at the sound of Nikki’s harsh-sounding voice. Allison whipped around and Patton saw her face drop into one of shocked betrayal. Patton’s stomach clenched with new fear. From his position sandwiched between the wall and the couch, he couldn’t see what was happening. He knew something was wrong when Allison stepped firmly in front of him and kept her legs closed so that he would be hidden from view.

“Me? What are you doing?” Allison said and Patton swallowed the need to stand up and see the new dangers for himself. “Why do you have my mom and grandma at gunpoint?”

Patton’s heart leapt into his throat. He scuttled back as far as he could and Allison gave a small kick of her foot as if commanding him to stay hidden. Then she stomped her foot down in front of him and he knew that she was telling him to shut up and be still. He tried to ease the rifle back out from under the couch, but stopped. It would make too much noise and Allison wanted him to stay hidden

Why would Nikki threaten his family? She was supposed to be one of the nicest people at the gun club. When she was caring for Grandpa, she’d taught Patton some gross-out medical facts that Patton had delighted in. Why would she do something like this?

“What are you shooting at?” Nikki demanded.

“You answer my question first,” Allison said. “Mom, are you okay?”

“I’m okay, honey.”

Kathleen sounded shaken. Patton put his hand over his mouth to contain his heavy breathing. His mother only ever sounded like that when Patton got himself kidnapped or something else was really wrong.

“Where’s your brother?” Nikki demanded.

“Outside,” Allison said. “He went to investigate the gunshots.”

“That stupid little...” Nikki cursed at the same time as Kathleen said, “Allison, you let him go alone?”

“I couldn’t stop him, Mom!”

“Just…put that gun down and come with me,” Nikki said. “Slowly.”

“No way,” Allison said.

Now’s not the time for heroics, Allison! Patton thought.

“If you don’t do as I say you can say goodbye to your mother,” Nikki growled, but even she sounded terrified of the words coming out of her mouth.

Tears filled Patton’s eyes at the thought of someone harming his mother. Allison had to cave. She would cave. He knew she’d never push so hard that it got their mother hurt.

“Fine,” Allison said, trying to sound tough. She slowly put the gun on the ground and slid it over to Nikki. Patton heard it clatter over the hardwood floors and the rug.

“Who did you shoot outside?” Nikki demanded.

“Some scum waiting to take over the hotel,” Allison said. “Scum like you.”

Patton’s heart galloped and for a moment, he wondered if Nikki was going to do something terrible to Allison. God, as much as his sister drove him crazy, the thought of losing her nearly made him leap to his feet and put himself between her and Nikki.

“Get over here,” Nikki commanded, but any authority behind it sounded more like Nikki was slowly breaking.

Allison took a couple of steps forward. Nikki leaned down and picked the gun up. Patton saw her hand before Allison ran into the couch and scooted it closer to Patton, completely obscuring him from view.

Patton tried to breathe slowly so that no one would hear him. He was the last one standing. He had no idea where his father was, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Matthew was somehow involved in the distant sounds of gunfire.

It was up to Patton to make sure everyone at the hotel got out alive.

32

Matthew tasted metal in the back of his throat as he sprinted out of the heavily forested woods and hightailed it for the hotel. He kept remembering how Samuel had peered into the tree line, and he wondered who else might be waiting to ambush him out here. He decided to skirt the edge of the woods around the property, making sure he kept himself out of sight as he approached the hotel. He didn’t want anyone who might be allied with Samuel to see him, especially if they’d succeeded in taking over the hotel. He knew that Samuel would stop at nothing to get the hotel and its people under his control. He would go to any lengths to secure that, and Matthew refused to put any of his family in harm’s way. He wouldn’t let his family be used as hostages.

He had finally made it to one side of the hotel and could just make out the garden plot that Allison and Patton had been working so hard on. He skidded to a halt when he saw the dark figure of a man on the ground, clutching his leg and rolling around on the grass in agony.

There were more of Samuel’s men here!

Terror filled Matthew. He crouched behind a thin copse of trees for cover. From this distance, he couldn’t recognize the person, but he saw the familiar shape of a gun just out of the man’s reach. Whoever this stranger was, he must be part of Samuel’s crew. Somehow, he had ended up with a gunshot wound to the leg. Which meant that the fight was already underway for control of the hotel.

Matthew furiously tried to decide what to do. He stood up, determined to rush for the man and interrogate him, but before he could, he saw Kathleen, Ruth, and Allison round the corner of the hotel. Nikki followed behind them, holding all three of them at gunpoint with a handgun. Matthew’s jaw dropped in disbelief. Nikki? Nikki was the one that had betrayed them?

Had she been behind this coup the whole time? A new flash of rage made Matthew see red for a moment. Had she tampered with David’s recovery, and was that the reason he had died?

Whatever the case, Nikki had the women of his family at gunpoint and by the set of her mouth, it looked like Nikki was on the verge of losing her cool. Why would she do such a thing?

Before he had a moment to think, he saw Samuel emerge from the direction of the well with the shotgun up against his shoulder. He lumbered across the empty space as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Hatred filled Matthew. He despised Samuel. After everything Matthew had done to try to make nice with him, Samuel had betrayed him yet again. Because of his greed, Samuel had probably gotten Wyatt and Jade killed. And now he was holding Matthew’s family hostage.

Samuel waved as he got closer to Nikki, and Matthew watched as Nikki smiled at Samuel. The two were obviously friendly with each other. God, how could he have been so blind? Wyatt had sworn up and down that the gun club wasn’t responsible for all the accidents that had happened around the hotel. It looked like the Marine had been deceived as well. Somehow, Nikki and Samuel had plotted to infiltrate the hotel. Nikki had gained their trust and they had let their guard down. She struck just when they least expected it. When they were at their weakest.

Nikki said something to Samuel, but Matthew couldn’t make out what it was. He was too far away, but he heard the soft muffled tone of her speech. Samuel grinned in response and made the same wide sweeping gestures he had before when Matthew had visited his auto yard commune, as if everyone were his subjects and this was his kingdom. He gestured to the fallen man on the ground who called out for help, but Samuel ignored him. Nikki pointed the gun at Allison as if accusing her, and it took everything in Matthew’s power not to sprint into the fray to protect his only daughter.

Whatever conversation was passing between Nikki and Samuel, it made Allison scrunch her face up in revulsion. She seemed to be concentrating on the injured man. Matthew wondered if Allison was the reason for the man’s leg wound. If that was the case, did they have Patton somewhere inside? Were they keeping him hostage to ensure that the women obeyed and didn’t try to fight back? Matthew hoped his son was safe somewhere. Samuel laughed at Allison’s expression and clapped her on the shoulder before leering at her.

Matthew’s hand tightened on the handgun. He was ready to shoot, but reason prevailed. He popped open the magazine and saw that he only had one bullet left. He’d spent the rest of his bullets fighting his way out, trying to cover for Wyatt and Jade. Now he had no way to save his family.

Maybe he should just give himself up. Then they’d be together and he could try to beg for Samuel’s mercy. If he stayed in the shadow of the trees, he wasn’t sure how long he could stay hidden. His anger might get the better of him.

The sensible thing would be to wait until darkness fell and then attack Samuel. But darkness seemed like a lifetime away and it didn’t seem as if Nikki and Samuel were planning on taking hostages. At the same time, he couldn’t bring down Nikki and Samuel with only one bullet left in the chamber. What was he going to do?

Jade and Wyatt had said it best, hadn’t they? He needed to cut off the head of the snake. That was Samuel. Samuel was the greater threat, and probably the one who had the most experience with guns. Nikki might shoot Kathleen or Ruth or Allison, but she also might crumble if the leader of her gang was gone. Matthew braced himself against the tree and got ready to take out Samuel. He only had one shot. He had to make it count.

He scooted up until he was still covered by the trees, but able to have a clear shot at Samuel. If only the man wasn’t swaying so much. Matthew didn’t know if the man was drunk, but he looked like he might fall over at any moment. Matthew couldn’t be rash. He needed to wait for the perfect moment to fire. He let his breath ease out of him in one long sigh and prepared himself to take Samuel’s life. One shot. Only one chance.

His finger curled around the trigger. The safety had long been off. He readied himself to pull when Samuel was in sight, now only swaying slightly, only to jerk back when he heard another gunshot ring out and cut through the air. It was a louder bang, something from a shotgun instead of a handgun, and for a moment, Matthew whipped around, wondering if someone was aiming for him. He backed into the trunk, seeking shelter.

There was a splotch of red blooming on Samuel’s greasy coveralls. Samuel looked down at his chest as if in shock and dropped his shotgun. His hands reached up to touch the blood, and he raised his stained hands and looked at them as if he’d never seen them before. Who had shot him? Matthew looked around wildly, but could see no sign of anyone. Matthew’s heart thundered in his chest, making the blood roar in his ears. Nikki’s mouth widened with shock, and she took a step forward as if wondering if she should help him.

Even though Samuel had been shot, he was merely injured. He didn’t fall.

Matthew readied to fire again and complete the task. But at the same time, Kathleen reared an elbow back and caught Nikki in the jaw. Nikki staggered back, the barrel of the gun jerking up to the sky and away from the back of Allison’s head. Kathleen whipped around and punched Nikki again square in the face. Knocked back, the doctor staggered with a shriek of pain. The gun fell from her grip as she cupped her bleeding nose. Kathleen punched Nikki once more.

Allison whipped around and dove for Nikki’s dropped gun. Samuel bellowed, his voice laced with fury. With great pains, he bent down and retrieved the shotgun. He awkwardly brought it back up and aimed it at Ruth. Ruth screamed.

Without a second thought, Matthew leapt to his feet and bolted toward the group. His own voice joined Ruth’s cries as an endless war cry. Matthew had to get that shotgun away from his family. Aim it anywhere. Aim it at him.

Kathleen was still punching the daylights out of Nikki. Samuel swung the gun to focus on her. It was as if he didn’t even care that Matthew was in his line of sight. Matthew skidded to a stop and raised his own gun. He aimed straight for Samuel and fired. He barely felt the recoil with all the fear and adrenaline coursing through him.

His aim was true. Samuel jerked back and staggered once. Then he collapsed heavily to the ground. He didn’t twitch or move. Matthew knew he was gone.

Matthew sprinted for his family and held his arms out wide. He reached Allison and Ruth first and yanked them into a crushing embrace. Kathleen turned from Nikki, who was now on her knees in the dirt, and ran for Matthew. She joined their embrace. Matthew had tears falling from his eyes and he cried in relief.

The sound of the hotel’s front door slamming open brought the terror back to him. Even though his handgun was empty, he tried to push his family behind him and turned to face the new enemy coming for them. When he saw Patton bolting around the hotel with a rifle clutched in his hands, Matthew felt like the luckiest man in the world. His family was all here, uninjured, safe.

Patton’s eyes were wild with fear as he leaped into his father’s arms. “It was you,” Matthew said, getting a whiff of gunpowder that clung to his son. “You’re the one that shot Samuel.”

“I’m so sorry,” Patton sobbed and he sounded frantic. “I know I wasn’t supposed to touch the guns, but I had to, Dad I had to, they were going to kill Allison—”

“It’s okay,” Matthew said, holding Patton tightly. “You did the right thing. If you hadn’t, this whole situation would have played out much differently. I didn’t have enough ammo to take out Samuel. We did it together. You’re not in trouble.”

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Patton cried as if he still hadn’t fully processed what Matthew had said. Matthew hugged him all the more tightly. The rest of the Riley family embraced Patton until they stood in a circle, holding each other fiercely.

“You were so brave,” Matthew said to Patton. “You did everything right. You saved the day, Patton. You’re the hero.”

Patton looked up at him in awe and then burst into tears again. Allison shook as she hugged her brother. Matthew leaned back and kissed Kathleen.

“Where are Wyatt and Jade?” Kathleen asked when they parted.

Matthew didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to recognize the dreaded possibility that they had perished defending the hotel. He opened his mouth to tell her his suspicions, but then Patton whooped in joy. “Wyatt!” Patton cried out. “Jade!”

Matthew turned around and saw two figures limping out from the direction of the well toward the hotel. He’d recognize Jade’s dark ponytail anywhere. Wyatt’s broad shoulders were slumped in pain, but somehow he managed to raise a hand in greeting. Matthew nearly fell to his knees in relief. As they got closer, he saw that Jade’s leather belt was cinched around Wyatt’s thigh, making a tourniquet.

When they approached, Matthew embraced both Wyatt and Jade. Wyatt made a pained noise and Jade pulled back with a shy grin before looking at the man writhing on the ground and then at Samuel’s motionless form. “Hey, we took out two other guys, too,” she said and then punched Matthew in the bicep. “Good thing I taught you how to fight, Riley.”

Matthew snorted a laugh. “Jade. I swear to god.” His words tangled up in his throat. “I thought you had died,” he finally managed to blurt out.

“Me? No way,” Jade said. “Although this Marine didn’t make things easy. Wyatt, you’re heavy.” She adjusted his arm around her shoulder.

“Sorry,” Wyatt said and then laughed wildly. “I thought we were going to die, too.”

“He’s delirious from blood loss,” Jade said, but when Matthew looked concerned she held a hand out. “Not really. He’s going to be fine, but we will need Nikki to look at it.”

“Well,” Matthew said, “there’s something you should know.”

Jade frowned and Matthew stood to the side so Jade could see the doctor sitting on the ground. Blood cascaded from her bruised nose and she had fallen into hysterical wailing.

“Nikki’s actually the reason all of this happened,” Matthew explained. “She was working with Samuel.”

Wyatt looked stunned. “That’s impossible,” he said. “I’ve known Nikki for years! She’d never do something like that.”

“Ask her yourself,” Matthew said. “She held my wife, daughter, and mother at gunpoint. She was going to let Samuel take over the hotel. At this point, I’d like some answers, too.”

“Matt, I didn’t know, I swear—” Wyatt stuttered.

“It’s all right,” Matthew said. “We all trusted her. She put one over on all of us. Now, I want to know why.” He took a few steps closer to Nikki and then knelt in front of her. “Time to tell us everything,” he said to her, “and I mean everything.”

33

“I’m so sorry,” Nikki gasped through her tears. Her frantic sobbing seemed to grab her and steal her breath and voice. Matthew frowned in concern. He believed the doctor was on the verge of hyperventilating. Her sentences were broken and didn’t make much sense, but it seemed as if she kept apologizing for what she’d done.

“I’m so sorry,” Nikki tried again. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m such an idiot. I’m so sorry.” Hitching weeping cut her off again.

Matthew’s compassion had been destroyed. At this point, he wasn’t sure he could feel empathy for someone who had tried to take his home and family from him. “What exactly are you sorry for?” he demanded. “You held my family at gunpoint. You tried to help Samuel take over the hotel. I bet you murdered my father while you were at it!”

Nikki looked at him in shock and despair. “No, I would never. I never hurt David, I swear. I never did!”

“But you thought it was okay to point a gun at my daughter?” Matthew asked, feeling his blood rise. “You thought it was okay to hold my wife and mother at gunpoint and let Samuel try and shoot them?”

“He said no one was going to get hurt,” Nikki gasped. Her face was red and her eyes were swollen from both the beating and her own weeping. “He promised.”

“Samuel’s promises mean nothing,” Matthew spat. “If you don’t want us to throw you to the wolves, you better explain yourself right now. The only reason I’m giving you that chance is because I have to believe you wouldn’t hurt my father. He’d want to know why you acted in such a heinous way. I’m doing this for his sake.”

“We trusted you,” Kathleen hissed from behind him. “I trusted you!”

Nikki looked devastated. “I know,” she stuttered out between breaths. “I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t want to hear your apologies,” Kathleen said. “Tell us why you betrayed us!”

Nikki started to cry again. Huge wracking sobs shuddered through her body. She started to speak, but it all sounded like a garbled mess to Matthew. He couldn’t understand what she was saying.

“Calm down,” he said. “You need to calm down. Take in a couple of breaths.” He did so himself and watched as the doctor latched onto his instruction and followed his breathing techniques. She wiped blood away from her nose, and probed at her jaw tenderly.

“I’m sorry,” she said again and then covered her face with her hands before another wave of sobbing overtook her.

Matthew glanced back at Kathleen. Kathleen’s face was hard as stone. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at Matthew. Matthew knew she would have no mercy in her until Nikki fessed up or at the very least explained herself.

Allison had her arms around Patton and Ruth. Jade had eased Wyatt down to sit on the ground with his back to the hotel, and she was adjusting the tourniquet. Matthew needed Nikki to explain herself soon. Even though Matthew couldn’t trust Nikki at all, she was the only doctor they knew. He had to get her to calm down and at least help them tend Wyatt. If Kathleen’s mercy had been exacerbated by the doctor, it was up to Matthew to try to reach her. He had to be kind to get Nikki to open up.

He put a gentle hand on Nikki’s shoulder. She looked up at him in shock. “Calm down,” he said again. “Please. We need to understand why you did what you did. I think you owe that to us.”

Nikki nodded in agreement and her face crumpled into a look of misery. She took in a couple of deep breaths until her crying subsided from frantic wailing to controllable sniffling. She studied the Riley family with soft, sad eyes. Her look reminded him of when he’d first forced Jade to leave after she’d come back to the hotel. Somehow, Nikki knew she’d done an awful, terrible thing. She knew that she would never be forgiven for it. Yet she was ready to lay all her cards out on the table and put herself at their mercy and judgment.

Matthew decided to help her start her story. “You sabotaged the garden, didn’t you?”

Nikki let out a soft sob. “Yes,” she said. “I tore it up. I used a rake and a shovel and pulled up all of the herbs and vegetables.”

“Why?” Allison cried out from behind Matthew. “We worked so hard on it!”

“I know it was a terrible thing to do,” Nikki said and she looked up and past Matthew to Wyatt. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why would you do that, Nikki?” Wyatt asked in a soft voice. “We trusted you. I never imagined in a million years you’d be the one responsible for all of this.”

Nikki’s lip trembled. Matthew feared she was going to backslide into hysterics. He patted her shoulder and tried to get the doctor to refocus on him. “When did you do it?”

“In the morning, before you all got up,” she said. “The kids were sleeping. David was having a rough night so it made sense that I was staying at the hotel to watch out for him. It took five minutes to destroy the garden. By the time everyone was awake, I was back in David’s room.”

“You ruined the well rigging, too.” Matthew said in a flat voice. “How did you ruin the rope like that?”

Nikki shuddered. “I had a kitchen knife,” she said. “Left over from one of David’s meals. I took it out after everyone had gone to sleep, and frayed the rope enough to ruin the integrity. Then I put the knife back on the table where I knew Ruth or Kathleen would find it and clean it and put it away. No one would think it was weird that a kitchen knife was missing or that it suddenly turned up.” Nikki paused and wiped her nose again. “No one really paid attention to me. I had one purpose here at the hotel and that was caring for David. No one really ever defied me ’cause I have that hard attitude. I had to be here for David and that was that. It was easy to destroy everything. You all trusted me.” She said this last part as if it was agonizing.

Matthew knew she wasn’t bragging about her tasks. Each sentence seemed as if it was being ripped out of her very soul. Her face screwed up with agony, not just because of her bruised face, but because she seemed to hate what she had done.

“Why would you do all that?” he asked softly. “You knew we trusted you. You had Wyatt’s endorsement and we didn’t question that. We’re all good people. Why would you do all of those things for someone like Samuel?”

Nikki dissolved into another bout of tears.

“You betrayed Wyatt and the gun club. I know they were like family to you,” Kathleen said from behind him. “Even if you didn’t care about us, why would you betray Wyatt’s trust like that?”

“More importantly,” Matthew said, “what did Samuel have on you?”

Nikki looked again at Matthew as if he had somehow peered into her soul and knew the ins and outs of her personality. She broke into sobbing again and it seemed as if she wasn’t able to control her emotions.

“It’s because of the pills, isn’t it?” Jade said, standing up from her spot next to Wyatt. “You’re some kind of druggie or have some kind of addiction.”

Matthew looked at Jade in confusion. “How do you know that?”

“When we went to the hospital when David first got sick,” Jade explained. “We were looking for medical supplies in one of the hospital rooms. I watched Nikki take a pill bottle and swallow a couple of them. She changed after that. Not a lot, but enough to show that she’d been exposed to those kinds of drugs before. They had an effect on her. Then, Wyatt had said something about Samuel dealing drugs, or being involved in drugs in some way. I hadn’t thought the two were related until now.”

Nikki closed her eyes and dropped her head in shame. “You’re right,” she said, sounding defeated. She ran her hands through her shoulder-length hair, spreading grime and blood through the strands as she tried to keep breathing normally. “Yes, you’re right, Jade. I’m addicted to pain medication. I’ve been addicted for a while now. I used to steal medications from the hospital and go home and take them. They helped me mellow out and sleep.”

For a moment, Matthew thought Nikki was going to dissolve into tears again. But this time, she closed her eyes as if gathering her courage and continued.

“When I took them, I didn’t worry so much about patients dying or about what the next day of horrors would bring. I didn’t have to live with the aching back and feet, or the migraines that nearly took me out for days at a time. But my addiction got worse after the EMP hit. There was so much happening all the time. So many people were dying.”

Nikki swallowed hard and continued. “But that’s when things got even worse. I knew there was a finite supply of pills. I was more dependent on them than ever to simply function. I never went to work high, though. I swear to you. I was always in control when I treated people, but soon enough we were always running from one dire problem to the next. At some point, I had to take the pills to numb myself to everything. Then I couldn’t handle it anymore and I had to leave.”

Matthew didn’t say anything. He couldn’t contradict her story. If she was lying to him about being on pain medication while she was at work, he didn’t see the point in fighting her on it. To him, it sounded like a way to justify her addiction, but it wasn’t his place to argue with her intentions. “What else?” he urged. “What happened next?”

Nikki took another deep breath, and it seemed that the hysteria was slowly leaving her, even though she was hanging onto her calm demeanor by a thread. “The EMP meant that my supply of medication would be cut short. Within a week, we were already trying to figure out ways we could live without medicine. I couldn’t keep taking it away from patients who really needed the medicine. That left me facing possible withdrawal.” She shuddered, as if the very word gave her chills. “I knew I couldn’t keep taking the medicine for myself. So I went to Samuel.”

She looked at the motionless figure on the ground. Her voice went flat. “I knew he peddled drugs. I knew he could get me what I needed, and he did for a while. But, after a couple of deals with him, he started to hold back on me. He refused to deal to me because he said he had a limited supply. I had nothing to trade with him. I didn’t have bullets or beer. He didn’t care about my medical skills.”

“So why didn’t you just decide to stop taking the drugs?” Patton asked in a small voice.

Nikki glanced up at him and offered him a small smile. “You’re probably too young to know what withdrawal is, but if I stop taking the drugs, it will make me terribly sick. I’m terrified of it. I’ve seen patients go through withdrawal, and it’s one of the worst things people can experience, especially when they’ve been on drugs for a long time like I have. I’m terrified of feeling those things and getting that sick and having no way out.”

Patton looked up to Allison as if he still didn’t understand. “I’ll tell you later,” she whispered to him.

“But if Samuel was withholding from you, why did you think taking the hotel would make things better?” Matthew asked.

“It wasn’t just taking the hotel. He was giving me minimal doses, just enough to keep me hooked, but craving more. He told me that he planned to start a drug production operation at the hotel. There’s enough space out here and the conditions are good for growing poppies. He had the plan and the means to process the seeds into morphine. He promised that if I helped him, he would make me his partner. Then, I wouldn’t have to worry about going through withdrawal. Ever.” She put her hand over her mouth as if she was horrified with herself. “I was so scared that I believed him. I actually believed him. I thought we could grow a poppy farm and start making drugs. I was desperate to believe it would work, which was why I agreed to help him. God, I was such an idiot. But that was before I ever met you.”

“And after you met us?” Matthew probed.

“I didn’t want to betray you,” Nikki said in a rush. “I was so torn when Samuel told me what I had to do. But if I didn’t, he was going to stop giving me pain medication! I would have gone into withdrawal while I was tending to David. I couldn’t risk that. I might have done something to accidentally hurt him or missed some kind of diagnosis that could have saved his life. I had to ask for more pain meds and when I did, Samuel made me swear I would help him. I knew what I was doing and I still did it. All I can say is that I’m so sorry. I was desperate.”

Nikki hung her head in shame. Matthew looked at Wyatt. Wyatt looked exhausted both from his wound and Nikki’s story. Matthew could see every line on his face. His jeans were soaked with blood.

“What do you want to do, Matt?” Wyatt asked, as if answering Mathew’s silent question. “I get why you’d be furious. Hell, I’m furious just hearing that story. If you want to run her off, I completely understand. She won’t be welcome at the gun club. But she is the only doctor we have.”

That fact was a stark truth that slew the hatred welling up inside of Matthew. Yes, Nikki had done terrible things to them. But without her skillset and knowledge, they’d be worse off. She seemed genuinely repentant for what she’d done. Fear had driven her to help Samuel, and now she was facing the consequences of those actions along with the fear of going through withdrawal.

But he couldn’t make this decision on his own. He looked to Matthew and Jade as if seeking their advice. Kathleen shrugged at him. “I’m too angry to give you a level-headed verdict,” she said.

“Addiction is a nasty disease,” Jade said softly. “I know I’ve had a lot of desperate moments in my life, and things have just gotten harder since the power went off. I can understand Nikki’s pain and why she did what she did. I hate that she did it and put us in danger like that, but I can’t deny that she did have some difficult choices to make. The question is, can she overcome them?”

Nikki looked grim, as if she were waiting for the executioner’s blade to fall.

Matthew nodded his head and then studied the doctor. “I suppose you have a couple of choices,” he said to her. “No matter what happens, you’re going to go through withdrawal. There’s no way any of us can stop that.”

Nikki looked pale. “I know. I can feel it starting already.”

“The question, then, is would you rather work through withdrawal with the support of our community? Or would you rather go through it alone?” Matthew asked.

“With you,” Nikki said without hesitation. “I’m too scared to be alone.”

“All right then,” Matthew said. “Here’s the deal. You help to fix up Wyatt’s leg. Then we’ll let you stay at the hotel while you get clean. Once the drugs are out of your system, we’ll open up a conversation about if you have a place here. If you belong here, or if you belong on your own. Do you agree?”

Nikki didn’t think twice. “Agreed,” she said.

34

“Patton, I need you to run to the gun club and get Shawn and Max,” Matthew instructed as he stood up from his crouch next to Nikki and went to Wyatt’s side. Wyatt put his arm around Matthew’s shoulders and winced with pain as Matthew helped the Marine stand. “You need to tell them what happened and bring back any medicine or equipment they can to help Wyatt. I think he’s going to be here while he recovers.”

“We can’t have pain medication in the hotel while I’m detoxing,” Nikki mumbled.

“You’ll be locked in a room,” Matthew said. “We can’t let Wyatt suffer with a wound like this. You have to be strong for his sake.”

Nikki let out a long breath. “Okay,” she said. “I want to detox. I can do this.”

“I’ll be back as fast as I can,” Patton said, and took off running. He seemed to disappear within moments, and Matthew felt another wave of pride wash over him. Patton was the best of him and Kathleen.

Kathleen, Matthew, and Allison managed to lift Wyatt up and carry him into the hotel, albeit with grunts and cries of pain from the Marine. They situated him in David’s old room, and with shaking hands, Nikki bent over Wyatt and started to treat his wound. She cut off his jeans and eased the tourniquet off. Blood pumped out of the wound and soaked the rose-patterned quilt.

“Is that a good idea?” Matthew asked nervously.

“A tourniquet stops the blood flow to the restricted area,” Nikki said, her voice sounding just as shaky as her hands. She flexed her hands into fists as if she was trying to control them. “I’m sorry. It’s starting already. We have to make this fast. Kathleen will have to take over for me at some point. I had to loosen the tourniquet or the limb would die without blood flow and I assume you want to keep your leg,” she said flatly.

Wyatt nodded. Sweat beaded on his brow. “That would be nice,” he said.

“Okay then,” Nikki said. “I need fresh water and clean rags and linens. I need some kind of brine solution—that will hurt, but it will at least keep any infections at bay since we don’t have antiseptic. I need thread and a needle to stitch up the wound.”

Nikki rattled off another list, and the Rileys split off in different directions to gather the needed materials. By the time Nikki had patched Wyatt up, he had passed out from the pain. Nikki was sweating profusely, but she had an air of success about her as she dumped the bloodied linens back into the bowl of clean, sterile water. Patton had also returned from the gun club with a crew of people in tow. All of them insisted on seeing Wyatt and staying in the room. They all studied Nikki with grim expressions, and Matthew knew that Patton had relayed the story of what had happened to all of them.

Nikki’s list of allies had shortened to no one.

“He’ll live,” Nikki finally said, helping to ease some water down Wyatt’s throat. She turned to Kathleen as she washed off the blood on her hands. “Lucky for us, the bullet didn’t lodge in his body. This was, even though it doesn’t look like it, a graze. Keep it stitched, keep it clean, and keep it bandaged with fresh clean linens. Try to lance any boils that emerge and clean out pus. If things go south, try to work him through it as best as you can, but if not, take a heated blade to it and cauterize it. If the skin looks green, we’re in trouble.”

Kathleen nodded. “Got it.”

Nikki gave her a weak smile. “The apprentice becomes the master.”

For a moment, Matthew was certain Kathleen might cock her elbow back and punch Nikki in the face again. Instead, Kathleen surprised him by returning Nikki’s smile, and said in a tight voice, “We’ll see.”

Matthew remembered how hard it had been for her to overcome Jade’s betrayal. If Nikki was going to become a permanent member of both the gun club and the hotel, Kathleen would have to learn to forgive Nikki too. But forgiveness came with time, Matthew thought. It would take time.

Nikki turned to Matthew and clasped her hands in front of her. “I’m ready,” she said quietly.

Matthew nodded and guided her out the door. He took her to another room near the back of the hotel. It was a single room with one window that looked out onto the majestic mountains. While Nikki had been stitching up Wyatt and while Kathleen had been acting as nurse, he and Ruth had taken the opportunity to create a safe room for Nikki. Anything sharp or dangerous had been removed. The window could open, but not enough that she could escape or hurt herself. He worried about the sheets and the covers, but there wasn’t much he could do about that.

Nikki walked into the room and surveyed everything. She checked the closet and nodded in approval when she saw it was bare inside. “This looks good,” she said, and then laughed sadly. “I mean, it doesn’t look like a comfortable place to spend a couple of weeks, but it looks good from an outsider’s perspective. Just...don’t be sympathetic toward me when it really starts, okay?”

“What do you mean?” Matthew asked.

Nikki sighed and sat down on the bed, “I mean that when things get bad, I’m going to try and do anything for you to open the door or to give me what I want.”

“What else should I expect?” Matthew leaned against the doorframe.

“To be blunt? It’s going to be awful,” Nikki said. “Not just for me, but for all of you. I’ll scream and cry and beg to be let out. I’ll promise you anything for drugs. I’ll say terrible, hurtful things.” She gazed into his eyes and Matthew felt the weight of her next words. “I’ll say awful things about David just to get a rise out of you. But I promise you here and now while I’m in my right mind that they will be lies. I did nothing to hurt David.”

“So there will be a lot of emotional manipulation,” Matthew said and tried not to show how worried he was. “What else?”

“I’ll be really sick. Sweating with chills and then sweating from fever. My body is essentially trying to purge some unknown assailant. It thinks it needs something to survive, but that’s the only way to prove I don’t need the drugs. Things will get ugly.”

“What can I do to help you in that regard?”

Nikki bit her lip. She held out her hand in front of her, which was starting to shake worse than before. “You’ll need to check in on me to make sure I’m eating and drinking enough fluids. Staying hydrated is critical. There might be a time where I pass out and you have to make sure I don’t aspirate my own vomit. It will be a thankless job, but I am thankful right now. This will save my life. Keep the kids away. They don’t need to see or hear any of what will happen in this room.”

Matthew nodded. “All right,” he said.

“Once I’m through the worst of it and the drugs are out of my system, things will get easier. I will be incredibly weak. I’ll most likely be depressed and anxious. You’ll have to take it one day at a time. We can’t think beyond that if you’re truly going to help me. It will be a long process. But please know I appreciate everything you’ll be doing for me. Even if it won’t feel like it for a long time.”

“I hate that you have to go through this,” Matthew said in a low voice. “No one should have to deal with something like this.”

“It will be part of my penance for what I did to you and your family,” Nikki said. “I can’t apologize enough for everything. I swear that I will be better in the future. I swear it.”

“I believe you,” he said. “We will get through this.”

Nikki smiled weakly at him. “While I’m in here going through a living hell, what will you be doing? Going to a movie? Taking in the sights? No, I should be realistic. It is you, after all. What kind of tasks will you do?”

Matthew smiled, but the question was a valid one. He paused for a moment. “I don’t think I will have an agenda,” he said slowly. “We all deserve a break. We’ve been going at a breakneck pace since the world ended, and I think we all need to recover. There’s a lot of trauma that’s happened, and I don’t think we’ve all dealt with it.”

Nikki nodded slowly. “That’s…actually really smart of you, Matthew.”

“Thanks. The well is on its way to being completely functional. The garden won’t be dug up by unknown assailants at night anymore.” He winked at Nikki.

“Too soon,” she said.

“Too soon,” he agreed. “We’ll see what becomes of the garden now that it’s back in its right space. Any and all bans will be lifted from Patton, and he’ll go out hunting with the other boys. I shouldn’t say boys. They’ll be men before I know it. Come to think of it, he’s probably a better shot than I am. I could learn a thing or two from him.”

“The apprentice becomes the master,” Nikki repeated.

“Truer words have never been spoken,” he said. “Other than that, we’ll need to evaluate the future. What will we all become? What will the next year look like? The next five years?”

Nikki shifted on the bed. A ray of sunlight shone through the window and painted half of her face in a bright white beam. “I admire you, Matt,” she said. “You’re a good man. I hope that I can be worthy enough to join you when I get through this. You’re thinking of the future for your people, and that’s the best thing a leader can say. I wish I could talk more, but...”

“Is it time?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Good luck,” Matthew said and stepped outside of the room. Before he closed the door, he saw Nikki turn her face into the sunlight and close her eyes. He hoped she would emerge from this experience stronger than before. He locked the door and turned and left her alone. Whatever was going to happen to her, it wasn’t something he could help her with. He could only be a pillar of support for her.

He walked down the hallway and back into David’s suite. The room was still packed full of people. He studied the faces. Some were of his own family. Others were gun club members he knew well. Others were people he’d never seen before. They all greeted him in some way, and he was humbled by the respect for him that shone in their eyes.

Patton stood near Wyatt’s head and put his hands on his hips. “I told them what happened,” he said proudly. “I told them what you did, Dad. I told them everything.”

“Matt,” Shawn said, stepping forward. “We’re so sorry about Nikki. I never thought she’d be the one causing so many problems.”

“We’ll talk about it once she’s out of withdrawal,” Matthew said. “One day at a time.”

“We brought in that other scumbag who was outside,” Shawn said, pointing his thumb out the window. “Guys seemed pretty beat up, but Kathleen is tending to him now.”

“Maybe he can tell us more about the people who are living at Samuel’s compound,” Matthew said, running his hand through his sandy blonde hair. “We’ll need to figure out a way to help them, too. I have a feeling a lot of them might have been in dire straits like Nikki and might need a safe space.”

“Lots of people need help around here,” Shawn said. “You’ve helped us. We can’t thank you enough for saving Wyatt. For letting us use your well. For being...well, for being unofficial members of the gun club.”

Wyatt cracked his eyes open and smiled at Matthew. “Maybe it’s time to change that,” he said.

“Aw,” Matthew said. “Are you sure about that? I thought you might want to get a million miles away from me and my penchant for getting into gunfights.”

“Life wouldn’t be as exciting without you, Matt,” Wyatt said. “But seriously. If I get into one more showdown because of you, I swear...”

“I promise I’ll keep the gunfights down to a minimum from here on out,” Matthew said. He put a hand on Wyatt’s shoulder. “Thank you, though. For everything.”

“Well see, here’s the thing,” Wyatt said, “I’m getting pretty tired of having to keep thanking you for stuff. I’m sure you’re getting exhausted from thanking me. So, I think we should make this official. We’re not just allies. We’re our own community. We’re part of the hotel. You’re part of the gun club. What do you say?”

“Really?” Matthew asked. Hope swelled up inside of him.

“I think we should make sure everyone is on the same page going forward,” Wyatt said. “No more doubting the gun club, no more doubting the hotel. We’re all in this together. We all live by the same rules. No more surprises if I can help it.”

“I’ve had one too many of those,” Matthew said with a grin.

“So you’re in agreement then?”

“Yes,” Matthew said, and pulled out some hotel stationery that was in the bedside table. He clicked a pen and smiled at the group. “We’re not just a family, we’re also a community. One that is now coming together for the first time. We need to hammer out some laws we should abide by and how we can learn to trust each other. So, in our first official community meeting, what should we talk about?”

The other members clamored to speak, their enthusiasm infectious. Matthew hoped that one day he’d be able to greet everyone at the gun club by name. He hoped that he could rely on the gun club members to take care of his family in case something happened to him. All of a sudden, he was overwhelmed with a myriad of emotions. He wanted those feelings to last. The need for hope, trust, and community had been building inside of him for a long time, but now it felt like somehow, against all odds, they had built all of those things here in this very room.

“All right, all right, one at a time,” he said and pointed to a man he’d never met before. “You. Tell me your name and what you’d like to see in our future.”

35

A scream of pain bellowed out of Jade. She leaned forward out of the nest of pillows supporting her back. At the foot of the bed, Kathleen gave her an encouraging smile. “You’re doing great, Jade,” she said in a supportive tone. “They’re getting longer. That means the baby will be here soon. You’re almost there.”

“You have a way better bedside manner than I do,” Nikki murmured beside Kathleen as Jade screamed again and another contraction wracked her body.

Kathleen winked at the doctor as Jade rode out the contraction and then collapsed back into the heap of pillows. “I can’t imagine doing this without an epidural,” Kathleen admitted.

“I don’t think Jade imagined it either,” Nikki said. “She’s setting the record, though. First baby to be born at the hotel.”

Kathleen’s grin widened. “Another one will be coming in a few more moments,” she said and looked up to where Max was holding Jade’s hands and wiping Jade’s dark hair back from her face. “How are you doing, Max?” she asked.

“How is he doing?” Jade cried out. “He’s telling me another stupid joke, that’s how he is doing. He’s—”

Another contraction hit her and she cried out. Her face screwed up in pain, and she gripped Max’s hand so hard that he winced. “Thanks, Kathy,” Max said. “Glad you’re directing her fists of fury onto me.”

“It’s your fault I’m in this mess,” Jade snarled, but her words had no threat to them. “It’s your fault you made me laugh at that stupid joke while we were on that stupid date by that stupid river—”

“Lots of stupids going on here,” Max said as Jade cried out again. “Ouch.”

“You’re doing wonderful, Jade,” Kathleen urged. “One more big push. The baby is crowning. Soon you’ll be a brand-new mother.”

“God help us,” Jade said.

Kathleen shared a smile with Nikki. She couldn’t stop smiling. The past nine months had been a whirlwind, starting from the day Jade came to her looking pale and terrified as she whispered that she was late. She and Max had been seeing each other for only a couple of months. Kathleen knew that Jade had fought the attraction, but for some reason Max was able to make Jade laugh. When it seemed like there was going to definitely be a new addition to their family, Kathleen had congratulated the would-be parents, who were both bursting with fear, love, and affection, and then yanked Nikki aside.

The two doctors had snuck away to plot how they were going to handle this. The community was becoming more settled, and they were all seeing families form and young love bloom. Yet for the two healers in the community, that meant they needed to figure out how to become midwives in addition to dentists, surgeons, and overall family practitioners.

Kathleen remembered Nikki arguing with her one evening about how they were going to approach the issue.

“It’s not like pregnancies are going to go away, Nikki,” Kathleen had said as she took a drink from a bottle of wine they’d found and saved for this very occasion.

“I wish they would,” Nikki said, taking the bottle from Kathleen and taking a sip. They were sitting outside under the tree where David had been buried, looking at the stars. “We only have prairie medicine, now. Pregnancy is difficult even in the best situations. We don’t have an epidural. We can’t do caesareans if a baby is breech. So many women died in childbirth.” Nikki looked sick. “I don’t want to bury any young women.”

“I know it will be difficult,” Kathleen said, “but we can’t stop people from falling in love and expressing that love.”

Nikki had given her a knowing look and refused to give her the wine bottle. “You’re just excited to have a niece or nephew.”

“Of course I am! But it’s not just that. There’s nothing we can do to stop it. The deed is done. Our job is to figure out a way to deliver the child to the best of our ability. You need to train me on how to be a midwife.”

“I’ll be learning that myself!” Nikki exclaimed. “We’ll have to find a place that can be sterilized. We don’t have any vaccines for the child, so they might get sick easily. We have to prepare for that.”

“Pregnancy has been around since the dawn of time,” Kathleen said. “We can do it. Instincts will kick in. We don’t need epidurals. We don’t need medicines. Sure, they’re great, but we will be able to manage.” She had reached out and taken Nikki’s hands. “We’ve dealt with worse.”

“Yes, we have,” Nikki said softly, squeezing Kathleen’s hands back. “At least this time there will be adorable fingers and toes.”

“God, I can’t wait to see Max suffer with his first child,” Kathleen had cackled. “He’ll be head over heels for the little lamb.”

Now, here they were. As Jade had grown plumper, Kathleen and Nikki had done as much research as they could. They’d gone into Galena and raided the library, bringing back endless books on medicine, delivery, and what to expect for new mothers. They’d done as much research as they could and now it was time to put their knowledge to the test.

“I’m never doing this again,” Jade cursed as she pushed. “I’m going to be a terrible mother. It’s genetic. isn’t it? My mother was awful, ergo, I’m going to be awful.”

Max leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “We’ve talked about this,” he said in a gentle voice. “You’re nothing like your mother. This is a good thing, Jade. We’re a good thing.”

Jade’s eyes softened and she turned so that Max could kiss her full on the mouth. Kathleen bit back a grin. She loved seeing her brother in love with a woman—truly in love, like, would-do-anything-for-her kind of love. He had grown up so much. Kathleen knew that Max would be a wonderful father. She was already blown away with how encouraging a partner he’d turned out to be. He even promised that if Jade didn’t want to be with him, he would still care for their child no matter what. Kathleen was pretty certain that Jade had fallen in love with him even more after he’d told her that. She was a strange person, but she valued her freedom, and since Max was so easygoing, she knew the two of them would be together for a long time. She hoped forever.

It wasn’t only that Max had stepped up for Jade. He’d become a pillar of the community. People knew and respected him. It seemed as if he’d finally found his place, oddly enough. He was happier than he’d been in a long time. Kathleen didn’t know if he just needed people who he could turn to and speak truthfully to, or if it was the close-knit nature of the community that was part of it, but Max seemed content.

Maybe it was because Max, Matthew, and Wyatt had become a trio of sorts. They seemed to do everything together, and the resulting bond had become very strong. They’d even started looking for a secondary location to begin digging another well. They’d used dowsing rods, despite Matthew’s scoffs at the idea, and were starting to dig into the underground aquifer. Kathleen knew that a second well wasn’t a dire need, but she also knew it wouldn’t hurt to have two water sources to draw from. Especially now that their community of the hotel and the gun club had expanded so much.

New people were coming to the hotel. They were either refugees from Samuel’s old commune or they were newcomers searching for a home in this changed world. Matthew and Wyatt would always sit them down and explain the laws they all abided by, walk them through the expectations of living here, and let the newcomers make the decision. Most of the time, people were overjoyed to join a thriving community. As the community grew, the members had begun clearing portions of the mountain between the hotel and the gun club. They’d either reclaimed houses to live in or built new cabins for others.

Sometimes, Kathleen thought about when it all began. She’d been stranded in Chicago and she thought she’d never be happy again. She’d been so scared of all that she had lost. Yet now, she found her days full of tasks, chores, learning medicine, and evenings spent cuddled up with her husband while they listened to community members make music or dance around the group bonfire.

Allison and Patton were also growing up. Too fast for her taste, but so it goes. Patton had the same close brotherhood with a couple of friends from the gun club. Allison had started to find people close to her age that she enjoyed being around. Kathleen had also seen some of the boys eye Allison and bring her flowers and tokens of affection, but she knew Allison was a slow mover. She would wait for the right man.

Jade screamed in pain again. “One more push,” Kathleen urged and cupped her hands, ready to scoop up the baby. “One more!”

Jade cried out and the baby was suddenly in Kathleen’s arms. Nikki moved quickly and cut the cord, while Kathleen stood and wiped the baby’s face clean. A baby girl. Kathleen’s heart swelled to bursting. The little girl screamed, the newfound voice cutting through the room and making Kathleen tear up. Immediately, she handed the baby to Jade, who cradled the newborn close to her chest. Jade looked at the child as if stunned. Max cooed over his daughter.

“I can’t believe it,” Jade said, close to tears. “Max, look at her. She’s beautiful.”

“I love you,” Max said and kissed Jade. “I love you,” he said to the baby, and kissed the crown of her head.

Kathleen settled back down as the new parents bonded with their child. There was still more to come now that the child had come out. She and Nikki prepared for the placenta to be delivered. Jade bled more than normal, but it seemed to be nothing that Nikki couldn’t handle. “Go outside and tell the community,” Nikki said to her. “I know they’re dying to know. And now that they can hear those cries…”

“All right,” Kathleen said and stood. She wiped her hands, removed her apron, and slipped outside.

Most of the community was waiting or pacing in the hotel’s front lobby. Out the window, Kathleen saw others who were furiously working on the garden that had expanded from a small plot to a vivaciously large acre. Everyone looked up at her as she entered the room.

Ruth sat with Allison in one of the chairs. Many young women were waiting anxiously for news. Kathleen knew why. She’d told Nikki that night, hadn’t she? Pregnancy wasn’t something that could be avoided. A lot of women wanted to become mothers, but were scared for their lives. They wanted to know they would be well taken care of. That it could be accomplished. While Kathleen didn’t like to say it in front of Jade, the young woman had been an experiment of sorts.

Now, though, Kathleen felt on top of the world. She knew she would be able to give not just Jade but all of these women hope for the future. She could allay their fears and show them that there could be many good things in this life.

“It’s a girl,” Kathleen announced proudly. “Jade and Max have a baby girl.”

Ruth smiled and said loudly, “But is she healthy?”

Kathleen opened her mouth to respond, but she was cut off by the loud wail of a newborn. The sound rang down the hallway, and every face in the room broke into a grin. Kathleen laughed. “Oh yes,” she said. “Definitely healthy. How could she not be? She’s my niece, after all!”

Ruth stood and walked to the front door and flung it open. Everyone outside seemed to come to a standstill, as if waiting for the news.

“Max and Jade have a baby girl!” she shouted, and it seemed her voice echoed from the mountains.

Kathleen smiled at the joy that suffused the room. She hugged her own daughter.

Even though her niece would grow up in a very different world than her own children had, Kathleen knew that one thing would never change. That little girl would never be without love. This community would never be without hope.

It wasn’t the future any of them thought they would have, but the foundations of their lives were the same whether it was now or before. There would always be love and hope at the River Rock Hotel.

End of Erupting Chaos

EMP Catastrophe Book Three

PS: Do you love EMP post-apocalyptic fiction? Then keep reading for exclusive extracts from Emerging Chaos and Escaping Conflict.

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About Grace Hamilton

Grace Hamilton is the prepper pen-name for a bad-ass, survivalist momma-bear of four kids, and wife to a wonderful husband. After being stuck in a mountain cabin for six days following a flash flood, she decided she never wanted to feel so powerless or have to send her kids to bed hungry again. Now she lives the prepper lifestyle and knows that if SHTF or TEOTWAWKI happens, she’ll be ready to help protect and provide for her family.

Combine this survivalist mentality with a vivid imagination (as well as a slightly unhealthy day dreaming habit) and you get a prepper fiction author. Grace spends her days thinking about the worst possible survival situations that a person could be thrown into, then throwing her characters into these nightmares while trying to figure out "What SHOULD you do in this situation?"

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BLURB

The power is out, and the world is in chaos…

When a Coronal Mass Ejection causes an EMP catastrophe and shuts down the power worldwide, Melanie Pearson is determined to reunite with her husband and daughter. But to cross dangerous territory and earn a spot in a well-fortified safe haven, she’ll need to help her boss find his own son first. As tension between Melanie and her boss escalates and he shows his vicious side, it becomes clear she may have made a deal with the devil.

When the lights go out, it’s Mark’s job to keep his daughter Shona by his side and find a way to reunite with his wife, Melanie, when the lights go out. There’s no way to turn the power back on, and Knoxville is quickly descending into chaos. His only goal is to find a way to get his family to safety.

With a destination in mind, the fractured family will face off against a world that is quickly becoming unrecognizable. And when even greater tragedy strikes, they will need to find a new way to survive. But what is the cost of survival in a world on the brink of collapse?

Get your copy of Emerging Chaos

Available September 8th, 2021

(Available for pre-order now)

www.GraceHamiltonBooks.com

* * *

EXCERPT

Chapter One

His voice always preceded him, like the storm surge of a hurricane, a deep rumbling sound that hit just the right resonance to carry all the way down the hall and into the break room. Melanie Pearson was grateful for this. It meant she had time to brace herself for his arrival. And when Hurricane Derrick entered a room, it always brought trouble. Fortunately, it was a long walk from his big upstairs office at the back of the building to the break room where they’d had the Christmas party, and she’d left the door open.

“Sounds like a storm’s brewing,” Lizzy said. Currently, Melanie’s best friend was on her hands and knees, an open trash bag on the ground beside her. Melanie heard the soft clatter of plastic cups, as her friend dug party residue out from under the table.

“What does he possibly have to complain about now?” Melanie grumbled. She had a plastic grocery store bag in her left hand, and as she worked her way down the long counter, she picked up debris and tossed it into the bag. “We volunteered to clean up after the party on our own time.”

“Well, he didn’t have to have the party in the first place, let’s not forget,” Lizzy said, imitating Derrick’s voice as she strained to reach a corner where someone had dropped a paper plate with globs of red and green cake frosting still on it. “He’s just keeping the Platt family tradition alive.”

“Not without making sure we all know he resents it,” Melanie added.

The break room at Beaton’s Food Factory was a big, dingy space with ugly gray carpet that was frayed in spots, a big plastic table in the middle, a chipped counter, and a bulletin board covered in outdated information. Still, the employees had made a valiant effort to spruce up the place for the Christmas party. Red and green curled streamers hung down from the drop ceiling, a small Christmas tree stood at an angle in the corner, drooping with mismatched ornaments, and there’d been plenty to eat and drink, some of it halfway delicious.

Derrick’s voice had stopped somewhere down the hall, diverting into one of the offices along the way, where the boss seemed to be chewing someone out about “deadlines.” Good. Maybe he would forget about them long enough that they could finish cleaning and get out of there. Indeed, Melanie heard said office door close, the boss’s voice becoming muffled. Poor soul. Someone was really getting it now.

“Let’s pick up the pace,” Lizzy said. She was done under the table and folding up the stained paper tablecloths now. “There’s still time to get away without seeing his face again.”

But Melanie was trying to scrub away the dried residue of a sloppy casserole. “These people are such pigs,” she said. “How do you get this much of a dish onto the counter? Was it intentional?”

“Was it the ham and cheese casserole?” Lizzy asked. “The one Helen made. It was pretty good.”

“I can’t tell,” Melanie replied. “It dried like concrete, though.” She had to set down the rag and use the side of a metal fork to get some of it up. Even then, it was like chipping away old paint, and in the process, she left a small but notable scratch on the plastic countertop. Not that anyone would notice. She swept the crumbs into the bag, then turned to head back the other way.

When she did, she was startled by the person standing in the open doorway, totally silent and suddenly there. She hadn’t heard him approach. Nathan Platt, the boss’s son, was a gawky teen, awkward in his own body. He was wearing an oversized, faded t-shirt covered in comic book characters, and his pants were a bit too short, showing off his mismatched socks. His black hair mostly stuck straight up in a big, crooked poof, which accentuated a long, lean face, a somewhat prominent nose, and pointy chin.

Still, despite his awkward appearance, Nathan couldn’t have been more different from his father. At first, he was staring up at the streamers, which were dancing in the current from the air conditioner. However, he seemed to realize Melanie was looking at him after a couple of seconds, and he turned and gave her a big, earnest smile.

“I could…I could help clean, if you want,” he said.

“Are you actually offering to clean?” Lizzy said. “Do teens do that?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of boring out there,” he said. “I don’t have anything else to do.”

Melanie beckoned him, and he came trotting toward her. She held out the damp rag. “If you wouldn’t mind, finish wiping down the counter for me. I’m going to work on removing the streamers.”

He took the rag from her like she’d offered him a new toy for Christmas. “What do I do? Is there a trick to it?”

“No, just wipe in big circles until the whole counter is clean,” she said. “Can you do that?”

“Of course. Whatever you say.” He went to work, bent over the counter with a serious expression on his face. Again, Melanie marveled that this was Derrick’s kid.

She went to retrieve a small stepladder from the corner and used it to begin pulling the colored streamers down from the ceiling.

“So tell me, Nathan,” she said, as she reached up to grab the torn end of a loose green streamer. “Are you looking forward to Christmas?”

He paused in his work for a second, staring at the wall, and his serious expression seemed to dissolve into something sad. “I don’t know. I guess I should be. It’s a break from school, so that’s something.” And then he went back to his work.

“Does your family have plans?” Melanie asked. She wadded up the streamer and stuffed it into the bag. “A big dinner maybe?”

“Probably,” he said. “Or maybe just takeout of some kind, if any restaurants are open.” He glanced at her and attempted a smile. She could tell he was really struggling to make it stick.

For Melanie, it all hit a little close to home. Maybe home life wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. She tried to think of some other subject, anything to keep him engaged. Working in silence was uncomfortable. Lizzy was sweeping up crumbs from the table and filled in the conversation.

“What about Christmas presents?” she asked. “Every kid looks forward to presents. What are you hoping for? I don’t even know what fifteen-year-olds are into these days. Some app I’ve never heard of, probably, but you can’t put an app under the tree. Or maybe you can. I don’t know.”

“I don’t care about presents, really,” Nathan said, and Melanie noted he was slinging the rag just a little too hard onto the countertop. “I don’t want anything, to be honest. I mean, whatever…”

He bent over the sink, frowning deeply. An innocent attempt to engage him in conversation had clearly gone awry.

“Okay, I’ll be honest. I’m not looking forward to Christmas at all,” he said, as he resumed wiping a part of the counter that had already been thoroughly cleaned. “It’s going to be super uncomfortable. Mom and Dad got into a huge fight about some dumb thing Dad is doing, and everything is uncomfortable right now. I wish I had somewhere else to go over the break—school or camp or just about anywhere else.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Melanie said. “Do we need to…?” She was going to offer to change the subject, but she became aware then of the imposing form filling the doorway.

Somehow, Derrick Platt had managed to approach the end of the hallway without being heard, which was a rarity. He stood there now in his short-sleeved shirt and red tie, his thumbs hooked under his black leather belt. He was tall like his son, but that was where the similarities ended. With his jowly face, thick neck, and watery eyes, he looked a bit like a human-bulldog hybrid. A beer gut strained at the buttons of his shirt and hung over the top of a shiny brass belt buckle. His hair was slicked back with too much product, shiny and greasy in equal measure, which made his big ears seem even more prominent.

When he frowned, as he did now, creases ran from the corners of his mouth, framing his little bump of a chin. “Why don’t you ladies leave my boy alone and get back to work?” he said, in that rumbly voice of his.

“We never stopped working,” Lizzy pointed out. Melanie’s best friend was dwarfed beside the boss. Small, thin, with blondish hair tied back in a loose ponytail, she had a round face, bright blue eyes, and was prone to easy smiles. “Look at this.” She held up the big bag of trash in her right hand.

“I’m just helping out so the work will get done faster,” Nathan said. “Nobody forced me to do anything.”

“Yeah, well, this is not your job,” Derrick replied. “Why don’t you go back upstairs to my office and play a video game or something?”

“I played plenty of video games,” Nathan replied, bending over his work even more intensely. “I’ve got my phone with me, but it gets boring after a while just being up there by myself.”

“He’s not hurting anything,” Lizzy said.

“I didn’t say he was,” Derrick replied, “but I want him to stay out of the way. Nathan, get back upstairs. Now.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

“Why does it matter?” Nathan replied. “I’m not bothering anybody.”

“You’re bothering me. Get upstairs. Now!” Derrick barked the final word. It hit just the right note to make Melanie’s ears hurt.

Nathan screwed up his face in a hateful scowl and flung the dirty rag into the sink. “Fine, Dad. Whatever! I’m actually doing something productive, but I’ll just go back up there and sit and do nothing.”

The poor kid seemed on the verge of tears, but Derrick was unmoved. He stepped to one side and motioned his son through the door. Nathan, his lower lip jutting out so far he could have tripped on it, stormed across the room and passed through the door without looking at his father. When he was gone, Derrick stepped back into the doorway and shook his head, as if to say, Kids these days.

“Do me a favor and don’t humor him,” Derrick said to Melanie and Lizzy, giving them a stern gaze. “He knows he’s not supposed to be wandering around the building.”

“Whatever you say,” Melanie replied, then ripped down another streamer and jammed it into the bag. Just go away and let us finish up. Oh, how badly she wanted to say it, but she bit her tongue.

Get your copy of Emerging Chaos

Available September 8th, 2021

(Available for pre-order now)

www.GraceHamiltonBooks.com

BLURB

They must adapt in order to survive when the lights go out.

After leaving college, Elna Pasqualee is determined to bring her family’s California vineyard into the twenty-first century. She hopes her diligent efforts will finally earn her father’s respect and keep visitors safe and comfortable.

But all her hopes for the future are dashed with the EMP attack.

Broadcasts offer only a brief warning before missile strikes wipe out all power and communications across North America. The idyllic setting on the private island quickly sours as food and water to sustain the Pasqualees and their guests grow scarce and life becomes a fight for survival. A fight further complicated when they are cut off from the mainland – and an unexpected assailant threatens their lives.

Someone is stalking one of the guests, hiding out on the island and sabotaging Elna’s desperate efforts to sustain their source of fresh water. When her father goes missing and another guest is gravely injured, remaining on the island isn’t an option.

But even if they reach the mainland, there are no longer guarantees of safety in a world where science and reason have descended into post-apocalyptic anarchy.

And survival of the fittest reigns supreme.

Grab your copy of Escaping Conflict (Island Refuge EMP Book One) from
www.GraceHamiltonBooks.com

* * *

EXCERPT

Chapter One

Elna loved walking the orderly rows of their vineyard, where the trellis posts and tops of the wires seemed to stand at attention as she passed, like soldiers at inspection. There was a beautiful simplicity in it, though she knew there was a complex and exacting science behind the design—which made her love it all the more.

It was, in her opinion, the perfect time of day, with the sun burnishing the distant waves and casting long shadows over the island. It made the tasting room—a faux-rustic building, all aged oak and sturdy beams—seem almost to glow. The vineyard was on a slight slope, and as she worked the rows with her pruning shears, constantly kneeling, squatting, and standing, she felt the growing stiffness in her shoulders and legs.

As she often did when she worked alone, she had her earbuds in and was currently listening—well, half-listening—to a rather dull NPR interview on her phone. She preferred talk to music. It gave the restless part of her mind—the part that needed to think, consider, solve—something to focus on when she was doing repetitive tasks.

She had just rounded a bend and turned into the last row of vines when the interview abruptly cut off. After a moment of silence, there was a harsh squawk, and then a different voice cut in. Elna reached up to remove the earbuds, but just as her finger touched the wire, the new speaker’s words caught her attention.

“Breaking news. NORAD has issued a high priority warning confirming that missiles have been launched from multiple locations in the Korean peninsula, some of which are thought to be EMP missiles. According to the warning, EMP missiles work by detonating in the atmosphere. The intent is to disable electronics. The missiles were launched five minutes ago. Interceptor missiles have been launched in an attempt to minimize the attack, but this is”—the speaker’s voice cracked—”this is a massive attack involving dozens of missiles that could…potentially impact the whole of North America.”

Elna rose, the pruning shears slipping from her grasp. Was this some sort of War of the Worlds hoax? It had to be. How was such a strike even possible? Wouldn’t they have known about the threat long before the missiles were launched?

“It can’t be,” she muttered. But some deeper, more analytical part of her mind responded: Of course, it can.

“Anyone listening to this broadcast is advised to seek shelter immediately,” the voice continued. “We will provide more information as it becomes available. Again, we have confirmed an EMP missile strike targeting the U.S. from multiple positions in the Korean peninsula. If you are hearing this broadcast, take shelter immediately.”

Elna looked to the west. She had a clear view down a gradual slope toward the water’s edge. If the U.S. military was launching a counter-strike, would she see something? It was unlikely, but she scanned the cloudless sky for a few seconds anyway until the bright sun forced her to turn away. The voice in her ears was repeating the same message, so she pulled the earbuds out and tucked them into her shirt pocket.

What’s the speed of an intercontinental EMP missile anyway? she wondered, heart racing. How much time do we have?

Questions she intended to address, but first her father needed to know what was happening. Faintly, she heard voices coming from inside the building—a burst of laughter followed by the deep voice of her father. Elna hurried up the slope toward the back door. As she did, she put one of the earbuds back in. A different voice was sharing the same information, as if the first speaker had been overcome with emotion and had to step away.

As she passed beneath the awning at the back of the building and reached for the polished brass door handle, the endless voice in her ear offered a new vital bit of information.

“Estimated flight time for the first missiles is just over thirty minutes,” the speaker said. “Homeland Security is telling people to prepare for prolonged power outages and interruption of services.”

Elna repeated the information as she stepped inside the tasting room. “Estimated flight time,” she said, thinking out loud, “just over thirty minutes. But the news is probably a few minutes behind, and five minutes had already passed. How much time does that leave us?”

Her self-talk drew the attention of everyone in the room. The tasting room was a large open space dominated by an L-shaped bar of polished oak. A few decorative barrels were scattered about, but otherwise, the room was largely unadorned. At the moment, her father was behind the bar, frozen in mid-pour, with three guests sitting on stools before their wine glasses. George Pasqualee was wiry like his daughter, but he had a protruding gut—the consequence of a fondness for enjoying the family product. His face was craggy, had a perpetual reddish tinge, and he maintained a generous, well-groomed mustache. If not for the rather harsh glint in his eye, he would have seemed like a folksy fellow. At the moment, however, he was clearly annoyed at being interrupted by his daughter.

“Pardon us,” he said.

“Pop, turn on the news right now,” Elna said, trying to ignore Selene Bondere’s gaze. Elna had met each of the current guests already, and if there was one she’d taken a disliking to, it was Selene. “This is bad. Really bad.” She pointed at a small TV hanging in the corner behind the bar. “You have to hear it for yourselves.”

Selene glared at her like Elna’s inadvertent intrusion on her father’s wine tasting ritual was an attack. In her loose floral-print dress, her brand-new Birkenstocks, Selene was the quintessential New Age faux-hippie, a wannabe flower child who worked as a fortune teller. At least, that was Elna’s read of her. Her age was impossible to gauge. The combination of big cheeks with a lined forehead made her seem both childlike and weathered with age. She had big brown eyes, but crow’s feet sprang from the outer corners.

As always, the woman had her tiny white Bichon Frise dog tucked in the crook of her right arm. Selene’s profession alone went against everything Elna believed in, but under the “peace and love” vibe, there was a deep anxiety or unhappiness that showed in the tightness of her facial features.

“Right now?” her father said. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle—?”

“Yes, right now,” Elna said. “It doesn’t matter what you’re in the middle of doing. Everyone needs to hear this.”

Something in her voice must have gotten to him, because his annoyance melted into a gape-mouthed look of alarm. As he turned toward the television, Malin, another one of the guests, pulled his phone out of the inner pocket of his suit jacket and held it up.

“My God,” he said. “Look at this! We’re dead meat.”

Malin Weber was the kind of guy who wore colorful t-shirts and cargo shorts with a suit jacket—a gold-ring-with-white-sneakers type. He turned in his seat and showed his phone to the man sitting next to him, his best man. Both of them were stuck on the island after oversleeping and missing their flight home, refugees from Malin’s bachelor party the day before.

“Garret, are you reading this?” he said.

Garret was a stockier fellow in a lime-green polo shirt. “Missiles from Korea?” Garret said, as if he’d never heard the words before. “Impacting all of North America? No way. Dude, it can’t be real.”

By then, her father had found a national news network, which was in the middle of broadcasting a CGI depiction of the missiles being launched from North Korea and crossing the Pacific. Dozens of missiles.

This is really happening, Elna told herself, waiting for the reality of it to sink in. This is happening right now!

“Pop, we have to round up the other guests,” she said.

As always, her first instinct was deal with the problem. Even if it hadn’t sunk in yet, her analytical mind was already looking for solutions. Her father read the captions on the muted television a moment longer before turning to his daughter and nodding.

“The other three are outside,” she told him. “They were strolling around the vineyard while I was pruning.”

“I’ll go and get them,” he said, stepping out from behind the bar. His voice was shaking. George Pasqualee’s voice never shook. “Everyone, please stay here.”

He rushed out of the room, smoothing his thinning hair back as he went. Immediately, all three guests turned and looked at Elna.

Waiting for someone to tell them what to do, she realized. It was a bit more responsibility than she was comfortable with.

“Okay, uh…let’s wait until the others get back,” she said, moving across the room to stand at the end of the bar. “It won’t take more than a few minutes. Then we can decide what to do.”

Selene shook her head, loosening the sisal flower scrunchie holding her long brown hair. She held her dog a little tighter. The Bichon Frise gave a bark of disapproval. “Are we not going to consider the possibility that this is some kind of prank? When someone gets on TV and says that all of North America is about to be nuked, are we just supposed to accept it? Isn’t that a bit extreme?”

“It’s not one person,” Malin said, flipping through screens on his phone. “It’s every single news source on the web, plus a message from the Emergency Alert System.” He turned the phone to show her the screen, but she didn’t look at it. “It’s real.”

“But we’re on an island,” Selene said. “Surely it won’t reach us.”

“We’re ten miles off the California coast,” Malin said. “They’re saying the EMP blast could reach all the way up to Northern Canada and as far south as Mexico City. I don’t think ten miles of water is going to protect us.”

“EMPs are bad news,” Garret said. He picked up a half-filled glass of red wine and downed it in a single gulp. “I’ve read a thing or two about them. How did this happen without us knowing in advance? What has the CIA been doing? Twiddling their greasy thumbs?”

“I don’t know,” Malin replied, “but I’ve gotta get back to the mainland. I need to be with Claire.”

He stood up, as if he intended to leave right then and there.

“Just wait,” Elna said. “Don’t go anywhere. Let’s get everyone together first, okay?”

He glanced at her, frowned, then sat down again, defeated. “Thirty minutes would get me across the causeway to the mainland, but then what? I’ll never get on a plane in time. Oh, man, this is bad.” Following his best man’s example, he downed his glass of wine.

A few quiet minutes passed before she heard the door in the lobby open and close, voices moving down the hall toward the tasting room. Soon, her father came into the room, leading three chattering guests.

They had just turned toward the bar when the lights flickered rapidly—as if someone were turning them on and off repeatedly. After a couple seconds, they went out completely. Then the refrigerator behind the bar gave a soft sigh and went silent, and a flash of yellow shone through the east-facing windows. Outside the windows, Elna saw a shower of sparks raining down from the power lines that fed into the guesthouse.

In the silence that followed, the late afternoon sun seemed to burn with a peculiar strength, casting the room in a fiery orange light. The silence was broken when Selene suddenly screamed and pushed away from the bar, stumbling backward with her dog wrapped in both arms.

“No, it hasn’t been thirty minutes,” she said. “They said thirty minutes. It can’t happen yet! It can’t be real!”

This set her dog off, who began to bark like he was being killed. The frantic barking was ear-piercing in the small room, and Elna had to fight an urge to cover her ears.

“Please, someone shut that dog up,” Garret snarled. “It’s hard to think with all that yapping.”

“He can’t help it,” Selene said. “He’s afraid!”

“We’re all afraid,” Garret snapped, “but we’re not screaming at the top of our lungs for no reason.”

As Selene petted the dog in an attempt to get him to calm down, Elna reached under the bar and picked up the landline phone that was stored on a shelf there. She lifted the receiver to her ear but got no dial tone. She turned on the nearby FM radio, but it didn’t work either. No static, no response, the little red light didn’t even come on.

“I’m telling you, that dog is driving me nuts,” Garret said.

Malin placed a hand on his best man’s arm, but Garret shook it off. Elna’s father pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and stared at the blank screen, as if he were unaware of the tension. Clearly, he still intended Elna to take charge of the room. With a sigh, she stepped up on a small footstool behind the bar so all of the guests could see her. She wasn’t sure what to say, and her heart was pounding so fiercely that she’d become light-headed.

Pop, say something. Do something. Put away the stupid phone and get a handle on this situation.

“Um…okay, everyone,” she said, but her voice cracked. “Let’s not panic.”

The barking of the Bichon Frise had finally stopped, but only because Selene had covered her dog’s mouth with her hand. Elna heard muttering, whimpering, and cursing all over the room. Only Malin was dead silent now, clenching and unclenching his fists on the bar top.

“We need to come up with a plan,” Elna said. A task which would have been a lot easier if there hadn’t been so many chattering people in the room. She could scarcely think.

Her father tossed his cell phone onto the bar. “It’s dead,” he said. “Can’t call out. Can’t even get the screen to light up.”

She was about to ask him what they should do when he signaled for her to continue.

“We need a plan,” she said again, all too aware that every eye was on her.

“Can we get off the island?” Malin asked.

“I’m afraid not,” Elna said. “The drawbridges are designed so that if the power goes out, counterweights cause them to automatically rise. It’s so boats can pass.”

Malin clapped a hand to his own forehead. “So we’re stuck here for how long?”

“Until power is restored,” Elna said.

At this, the room went dead silent. Even the dog had finally stopped making noise, as Selene paced back and forth in front of the west-facing windows, drawing her long shadow across the room. Afternoon was giving way to evening all too quickly, the orange light taking on a slight purplish hue.

“We need a—” Elna almost said it a third time but caught herself.

“It’s no use,” Garret said, interrupting her. “It’ll be night soon. We can’t do anything but light candles. If the power’s not restored by tomorrow morning—and it won’t be—then we can take inventory of what you’ve got on the island.”

“We have a powered water pump system,” Elna said, “with a backup generator. We’ve got canned food.”

“How much?” Garret asked.

Elna pictured the food pantry in her mind. How much would it last the handful of people on the island? “Maybe a week’s worth,” she said. “Plus, we have a stocked freezer and a small garden. We’re not a big operation here, as you all know, but we’re not without means.”

“And we have plenty of wine,” her father added.

Selene groaned loudly. “So we just have to stay put for the night with no idea what’s happened in the rest of the country? With no electricity? No phones?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Elna replied, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. She almost succeeded. All of this would have been so much easier without the guests. She dreaded having to deal with them if the problem persisted. She wasn’t good around people. “I’m afraid so. I think Garret’s right. In the morning, we can figure out what to do.”

“We get off this island is what we do,” Malin said. “We swim, we float on a log, we do whatever we have to do, but we get off this island. That’s it. I have a fiancée to return to. She’s all the way in Las Vegas, and she’s waiting for me.” To punctuate his point, he smacked the bar with his hand loudly enough to make Elna flinch.

Dabbing a sheen of sweat off her upper lip, she gazed through the west windows. The sun was dropping too fast. Night was in a hurry to arrive, ready to cast them into its hopeless dark. She shuddered at the thought.

Reassure the guests, dummy, she scolded herself. That’s your job.

“It’s okay, folks,” she said. “We have comfortable accommodations for you tonight. We’ll figure this all out in the morning.”

Her father had an uneasy smile plastered on his face, but he nodded at her and gave her a thumbs-up. Clearly, he wanted to reassure her that she’d handled it well, but she didn’t feel reassured. Not at all.

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