Surviving the End
Author: Grace Hamilton
Date: 2022-11-01 00:00:00+00:00
Description: Crumbling World Family comes first—and he'll do whatever it takes to protect his from the looming storm. Even before becoming a husband and father, safety had been Shane McDonald's priority for most of his forty-five years. As a nuclear engineer, it's his responsibility to keep the Sequoyah Nuclear Plant functioning at optimum levels to avoid what protesters fear most—a meltdown. But when a coronal mass ejection from the sun wipes out power across the globe, stopping a nuclear chain reaction is no longer his primary concern. Fallen World Family is all that matters when friend becomes foe—and t
Publisher: Relay Publishing

DARK NATION

Escaping Anarchy

Enduring Anarchy

Surviving Anarchy

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, APRIL 2022

Copyright © 2022 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

BLURB

The world is broken. And it can’t be fixed…

Before an EMP blast shattered her world, Molly was a high school English teacher. Now, she’s responsible for keeping five teens, four adults, and a dog safe in a world where the bad guys are out to get them. It’s time to retreat and they head out to her family’s cabin deep in the Maine woods where they can be safe. But when they arrive, it’s clear that someone has been there.

Fixing the cabin may be more than the group was prepared for. Winter is coming and there’s food to gather, wood to chop, they need to find a reliable source of water, and the cabin needs to be winterized. Still, it’s their best chance for survival…

But Molly and her charges can't hide forever. Diego Cruz wants his daughter back no matter what, and there’s stories that the woods around town are haunted by the bogeyman who is none other than Victor Fox, a former prison guard. Diego wants Jenna back and Victor wants that fugitive Molly is harboring, and they’re both willing to do whatever it takes to achieve their goals.

Molly knows that if they're going to survive, they need to choose their battles carefully. The old world is gone, and there’s no going back. But if they work together, a new world can rise from the chaos…

CONTENTS

1. Joe

2. Molly

3. Molly

4. Alex

5. Victor

6. Molly

7. Zack

8. Molly

9. Molly

10. Victor

11. Joe

12. Molly

13. Alex

14. Alex

15. Zack

16. Molly

17. Jenna

18. Joe

19. Victor

20. Lucky

21. Laura

22. Molly

23. Molly

24. Victor

25. Molly

26. Molly

27. Laura

28. Victor

29. Colton

30. Molly

31. Victor

32. Molly

33. Colton

34. Molly

35. Colton

36. Molly

37. Molly

38. Molly

39. Colton

Epilogue

End of Surviving Anarchy

Thank you

Make an Author’s Day

About Grace Hamilton

Sneak Peek: Fractured World

Also by Grace Hamilton

1

JOE

When Joe stopped running, all he could hear was his breath faltering in his chest. As he dragged mouthfuls of air down into his lungs, he leaned forward onto his knees. His sweatpants were too tight. Not his. Borrowed from the trunk of an abandoned car which, miraculously, hadn’t been looted yet.

They were almost cutting him in half. He stood up, hands on hips. He was too loud and too clumsy for all this. His breathing was loud and his big old clown feet—as his mother had called them when he was a teenager—were loud too; snapping twigs, tripping over the uneven ground, drowning out the sounds of the others so that he’d barely heard Rick when he shouted, “Stop, we’ve lost him!”

Joe pressed his lips together and exhaled slowly. He’d never been an athlete. He was slim, but not in a muscular way, and too tall to be graceful. He’d tried it all—hockey, football, soccer, basketball—and he’d been unceremoniously booted from every team he’d attempted to join. He was not the kind of guy who should be running through the woods in the middle of the night with four other now ex-cons. In fact, he shouldn’t even be an ex-con. A ‘con’ of any kind. He wasn’t that kind of guy. He’d done everything right, his whole life. Until he hadn’t.

Right before the power went out, he’d been days away from his appeal and a chance at freedom.

“You’re free now, aren’t you? What are you complaining about?” Rick had said to him when he’d drunk one too many cups of prison punch and gotten so morose he’d threatened to start something with one of the bigger inmates just so that he’d be put out of his misery.

“Free?” Joe had laughed so loudly that a spray of saliva had peppered Rick’s chunky face. “You think this is freedom?”

“Ain’t no guards in charge of us no more,” Rick had replied, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “We could walk right out the door if we wanted to.”

Joe leaned against the tree beside him and shuddered as a gnarly branch fingered the back of his neck. That was how it had started. Joe had gotten up from his chair and said, “Well, come on then. What are we waiting for? Others have done it. Why not us?”

At first, Rick had shaken his head and said, “Nah, man. We’re safer in here. Ain’t you heard about the bogeyman in the woods? The one killing inmates?”

Totally out of character, buoyed by desperation and booze, Joe had laughed in Rick’s face and called him a coward. Rick had clenched his fist. From nearby, Franko, Jim and Luiz had hurried over to see what was going on. A few hours later, the decision had been made; they were finally going to leave Fairfield. Bogeyman or no bogeyman, now that Dougie was gone and people were doing whatever they liked, outside was better than in.

That had been two weeks ago. Two weeks that felt like two years.

Joe strained his ears, trying to hear sounds outside of his own body so he could figure out where everyone was. In the belly of the woods, it was too dark to see them. Rick had a lighter but he’d probably left it back at the hideout.

“Rick?” Joe whispered into the still night air. “Franko?”

No one replied.

Joe flattened his palm against his chest and tried to push down the panic that was tightening in his rib cage. What if they’d left him? They had vowed to stay together, but perhaps they’d decided they’d stand a better chance without him. Perhaps, when he was sleeping, they’d decided between them to sacrifice Joe to the bogeyman who was chasing them so they could get away.

If they’d left him, where would he go? How would he survive if he was alone?

He wasn’t as smart as Franko or Rick. They were the ones who’d thought of changing out of their prison-issue clothes so that no one realized who they were. He wasn’t streetwise like Luiz either, who’d swapped a bottle of pills for information and been told that they’d arrived just after a massive showdown at the high school. A bunch of civilians who called themselves the CAL had been running things, but they’d been overthrown and were now regrouping on the other side of town. They were, according to Luiz’s source, not people you wanted to get caught up with.

“Rick?” Joe tried again, louder. This time, Rick answered.

“Joe, over here.” He was tapping something, maybe his knuckles, against a tree trunk. Joe followed the sound. Finally, up ahead, something flickered. Joe was thankful he’d brought the lighter.

As the others gathered around, Rick gestured for them to huddle together. The warmth of the other men’s bodies made Joe realize that his arms were cold. It was late summer, which meant the nights were growing cooler. The prison had been unbearably hot, but out here, at this time of night, whispers of fall were in the air.

“You sure we lost him?” Luiz’s deep voice rumbled. The flame from Rick’s lighter illuminated his chin, making his entire face look much more menacing than usual.

Franko and Jim nodded.

“How did he find out who we were?” Joe asked, folding his arms in front of his chest. “We were careful. So careful.”

“Probably Luiz’s contact,” Franko spat. “The pill guy? I knew it was a bad idea to trust him.”

“I didn’t tell him anything about us.” Luiz stood up and squared his shoulders.

Waving his lighter a little, Rick told them to settle down. “It doesn’t matter how he found out about us. He did. Which means our plan to sit pretty in that nice little house on Longfellow is out the window.” He paused and looked at each of them in turn. “We’ve got to leave town.”

“And go where?” Joe asked. “Where do we go if we leave town?”

“My old man used to take me fishing up near Fullers Woods. It’s about forty miles north of Fairfield. Plenty of cabins up there. Far enough away that I doubt anyone will try and look for us,” Jim offered. As the only one of them who was local to Fairfield, his suggestion prompted a series of nods from the others.

Joe exhaled slowly. Okay. A plan. They had a plan.

“What was that?” Rick snapped his lighter closed and put a heavy hand on Joe’s shoulder.

“What?” Joe whispered.

“I heard—”

“STAY WHERE YOU ARE AND PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!” a voice boomed out from the trees. At the same time, bright white light flooded the spot where they were standing.

Joe tried to shield his eyes. It was too bright. He couldn’t see a thing.

“Put your hands up and surrender!” the same voice yelled.

Rick’s hand disappeared from Joe’s shoulder and he felt him move away. At that exact moment, a shot was fired. Into the air, but close. Joe’s ears began to ring.

As his eyes adjusted to the light, he realized the others were lining up beside him with their hands raised. He copied them. Behind the light, four men with shotguns and flashlights stepped into view. Flashlights? They have working flashlights? Joe’s heart fluttered as he wondered, for just a fraction of a second, whether the power had come back on.

“Well, well, well….” Someone was pushing their way to the front of the men with the guns. He was large, older than the rest, and had a saggy chin that implied he’d once been much rounder in the face. He was holding something, and Joe couldn’t tell whether he was happy to have found them or furious.

“Oh no!” whispered Jim. “That’s him. Victor.”

“Quiet!” The large man pointed at Jim, then looked slowly at the rest of them, each in turn. “In case you don’t know, my name is Victor Fox.”

Joe felt Jim inhale sharply.

“Until a couple of months ago, I was a guard at Fairfield Prison.” He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “But I don’t think I had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with any of you gentlemen.”

“We’d sure as hell remember a gut as big as that!” Luiz’s loud brash voice caused Joe to flinch. All four of the shotguns twitched toward him, but Victor gestured for them to remain still.

Ignoring Luiz’s attempt to start an exchange of insults, Victor Fox lifted the object he was holding. It was a big black binder, and he was pressing his palm to its cover as if it was the Holy Bible. “So,” he said, flipping it open and glancing over his shoulder at the men with the guns. “Let’s see who we’ve got here.”

Victor began flicking slowly through the pages. Each one contained a mug shot and a list. Some of the pages had big red crosses through them. Others had sticky notes and doodles that looked like maps. Joe’s mouth was sandpaper dry. He cleared his throat.

“Nervous, are you, son?” Victor looked up at him and smiled with the corner of his mouth. “Well, you should be.” He took a step closer. “You must have thought all your Christmases and birthdays had come at once when the power went out. Freedom! Just like that. All your crimes, absolved. After all, there are no records anymore. No one to care if you serve your time. No one to make sure you pay for what you did.”

Joe looked at Rick, who shook his head at him.

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong.” Victor licked his lower lip. “Because I have records, and I will make sure you pay.”

“Oh yeah, how?” Luiz tipped his chin up at Victor in a way that made Joe’s skin crawl; he was going to get himself killed.

“I’m going to lock you back up, of course.”

“Lock us up?” Luiz laughed loudly. “You seen the inside of the prison lately? Good luck getting us back in there without getting your own head blown off.”

Victor opened his mouth to reply but then closed it again, smirking a little as he returned to his binder. “Ah, here we are.” His eyes widened and he tapped the page. “Life sentence for murder and sexual assault.” He shook his head and tutted loudly. “Should have just gotten the chair. Would have saved everyone so much time and money.” Sighing, Victor reached for his gun.

Joe turned to Luiz, looking frantically from him to Rick.

“That’s not right,” Luiz said loudly. “That ain’t—”

Victor stepped forward, but he wasn’t looking at Luiz. He was looking at Jim. “James O’Malley, I hereby sentence you to death.”

BANG!

Joe slapped his hands over his mouth and stumbled back as Jim’s body wavered. Thick red blood oozed from his temple, and then he fell. His head landed on Joe’s foot. “Oh my God,” Joe whispered as a clot of nausea formed in his throat. He reached down and started pulling at his sneaker, desperate to get it off his foot. To get the blood away from him. “Oh my God, oh my God.”

“You bastard!” Luiz lunged forward, screaming. Rick was screaming too. Franko bolted in the other direction, but four shots followed him. One. Two. Three. Four. Into his back. He fell face first onto the ground.

“Run! Run!” Rick yelled at Joe and dove into the trees. Luiz was on the ground, two men holding his arms.

Joe was frozen to the spot. He couldn’t move. No one’s watching you, Joe. They’re focused on the others. It’s now or never! A voice, perhaps his own, perhaps God’s or his mother’s or Roxy’s, echoed in his ears.

He turned and ran, but he’d barely made it three feet when something hit him in the thigh. A sharp, searing pain, like nothing he’d ever felt before, ricocheted up and down his leg. He stumbled, trying to drag himself forward, but fell to the ground.

He expected to feel fingers around his ankles, hands pulling him backward, or another gunshot in the back. One. Two. Three. Four. Nothing came. The others were still yelling. Luiz and Rick. Not Franko or Jim.

Joe pulled himself along the ground, digging his fingers into the earth and pulling up clumps of it as he moved. He could see nothing. The canopy above was blocking out the night sky, and now that the flashlights were behind him, his eyes were struggling to make sense of anything. He was picking up speed, moving faster, when the ground in front of him disappeared. He tumbled. Down and down, rolling over and over. Branches scraped at his clothes and skin, something hard stabbed his ribs, he tried to grab hold of something to stop himself but he was falling too quickly.

Then there was water. Ice-cold water. Not deep enough to drown him but deep enough for him to inhale a mouthful of it and start to choke.

Be still, Joe, be still.

He stopped moving, stopped thrashing, lay still. His teeth were chattering but he could still hear the hunters above him. Here, there were no trees blocking the moon. He was in a gully. In full view of anyone who stuck their head over to peer down at him.

Slowly, quietly, Joe turned onto his stomach and pulled himself to the edge of the stream. Flashes of light through the trees meant the hunters were close, but a few inches away was an overhang that might be big enough to shield him. Joe crouched beneath it, pressing his hand to his thigh and shivering as the cold from the water seeped into his bones.

“We’re one short, Vic,” a gruff voice said as a flashlight swept the surface of the stream.

“We got the worst of them,” Victor replied. “Leave him. If he’s injured, he won’t get far. We’ll track him down after sunrise.”

Their voices were fading. The flashlight was gone. Joe blinked up at the moon, and then he passed out.

2

MOLLY

“Ten points! That’s definitely blood, so with my five points for the broken window and two points for the looted truck, I’m officially in the lead.” Lucky’s excited voice caused an uproar of groans and grumbles from the other teens. Up ahead, Molly couldn’t see their faces, but she knew they’d be scowling at him.

“No fair,” Scarlett whined.

“Not my fault I’ve got the eyes of an eagle,” Lucky retorted.

Molly stopped and turned around, folding her arms across her middle. “Okay, I think we’ve all had enough now, Lucky.”

“It’s a little distasteful,” Alex Banks said as he stepped up beside Molly. He was frowning at the twins, but Erik, who was deep in conversation with Jenna, didn’t seem to have noticed.

Molly turned around and rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. Colton, who was taking the moment’s respite to rub his knee, caught the gesture and smiled back. As they started walking again, a little slower this time, he whispered, “What are the rules of this game, exactly?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but I know you get different numbers of points for spotting different things. Like, that dead deer I saw when I peed in the ditch earlier? That would have been a twenty-pointer, for sure.”

Colton coughed into his hands to disguise a chuckle. “At least they’re getting along,” he said, glancing back at the five teens who—not that many weeks ago—had been at one another’s throats almost constantly.

“There is that,” Molly replied. Reaching for her water bottle, she tried to ignore the throbbing in the soles of her feet.

As if he knew what she was thinking, Colton nudged her arm and said, “Not far now.”

Molly nodded and took a swig of lukewarm water. She was thirsty enough to drink half the bottle, but the supplies Dr. Chase had given them when they left the hospital were dwindling. Sure, they could stop, light a fire, boil water from a stream and rebottle it. But that would take time and Molly had the increasing sense, deep in her gut, that they needed to reach the cabin as soon as possible.

Perhaps it was because summer was on the verge of turning into fall. The days were still warm, but the evenings had a snap to them, which said colder months weren’t far away.

Molly shuddered, despite the sunny blue sky, and rubbed her arms. When they had finally reached the hospital and managed to get Lucky the drugs he needed, she’d experienced an overwhelming sense of relief. Soon, though, she’d realized that even though they were safe from Diego and the CAL, they had a bigger enemy to contend with—winter.

A winter in Maine without electricity was something she’d never even contemplated. They’d need food, heat, and light. As many supplies as they could gather. She was also pretty sure they’d need to do some work on the cabin in order for it to become hospitable for five teens, five adults, and a dog. Not to mention Laura’s wheelchair.

As Molly glanced in Laura Banks’s direction, she bit the inside of her cheek and tried not to think about how much sooner they’d have made it to the cabin if they hadn’t been forced to take proper roads instead of traveling across country.

In fairness to Laura, she’d been extremely reluctant to hold them up. She’d offered to give the off-road route a try, hoping her sporty new wheelchair would manage it okay. When Alex had pointed out that she’d need her chair in working condition when they got to the cabin, and that traveling twenty-five miles through woods and across uneven terrain would likely render it useless before they got there, she’d even offered to take the longer route with Alex and Argent while the others went ahead.

Of course, Molly had said no to this. They weren’t splitting up again. They were together now, all ten of them, and that was that.

So, here they were. Two days’ walk away from the hospital and still another two hours, at least, before they reached the edge of the woods.

“Should we stop and take a break?” Tommy, who was pulling one of the two wagons given to them by Chase before they left Ridgeview Hospital, wiped sweat from his forehead. Alex was pulling the second and looked up as Tommy spoke.

“I can take a turn if you’re tired,” Molly offered.

“And the twins could take this one,” Laura added, putting her hand on her husband’s arm.

Alex shook his head. “We need to make it to the woods before nightfall. There’s nowhere to shelter out here. We can’t sleep out in the open.”

Grimacing and tensing his jaw, Tommy nodded. “I was hoping we wouldn’t need to spend another night under the stars,” he said, looking at Molly. “How far to the cabin once we reach the woods?”

“Not far. There’s a dirt track that leads off the main road toward the woods. A little way down that there’s a smaller one. Maybe a thirty-minute walk and we’ll be at the cabin.”

Tommy nodded. “Well, it’s only midday. If we up the pace, we might make it before sundown.” Gritting his teeth and groaning, he redoubled his efforts and took a series of large purposeful strides before slowing again. “Too ambitious,” he muttered.

Beside Molly, Colton turned and waved in the teens’ direction. “Zack, come give your brother a hand. Erik, you help your dad. We’re nearly there. One last effort and we can be sleeping in actual beds tonight.”

Molly smiled as Zack and Erik did as they were told.

“I can help,” Lucky said, bounding forward and offering to switch with Tommy.

“No, you absolutely cannot.” Molly took hold of his elbow and pulled him back in line next to her. Looking at his hand, which was still bandaged, she raised her eyebrows. “You’re still healing. Dr. Chase said you need to take it easy for a couple weeks at least.”

“Pfft.” Lucky puffed air through his closed lips and rolled his eyes at her. “I’m fine, Miss—” Mid-sentence he stopped and corrected himself. “Molly. I’m fine.”

Molly ruffled his hair with the palm of her hand, then slung her arm around his shoulders. “I know you are, but you’ll be more fine if you are properly recovered before you start doing manual labor.”

“Thought you’d have had enough of that back at the CAL,” Jenna said, tucking her short hair behind her ear as she jogged a little to catch up with Lucky and Molly.

“Exactly,” Molly said as she tried not to flinch at the mention of the Community Action League and the memory of all those days and nights spent being treated like slaves, doing Diego’s bidding, watching people get sick, watching Diego take slow, insidious control of the town.

Jenna had asked her a few days ago whether Molly thought Hicks had done as he’d promised and freed her father from his bunker. Molly had told her, “Of course he has.” Jenna had smiled a small, satisfied smile at that—as if she’d done her bit by ensuring her father was kept alive—but Molly wasn’t so sure that Diego’s survival was something to be pleased about.

Diego Cruz was dangerous, and Molly knew—from the look in his eyes when he’d ambushed them in the woods—that if he was alive there was no way he’d simply forget about Jenna. As far as Diego was concerned, his daughter was his property. He wouldn’t simply allow her to run off into the sunset with Molly and her friends.

Which made getting to the cabin quickly, and unnoticed, their absolute number one priority.

* * *

After another two hours of slow progress, the sparse scenery at the sides of the road began to turn into thicker bushes and trees and, eventually, the forest was upon them. Dense and green, trees towered above them.

“There’s the track.” Molly pointed to a gap in the trees. It was large enough for cars to travel down, but Molly was assessing it in a way she hadn’t in the past.

Last time she came here, she drove up in her little Honda and remembered gritting her teeth as she anticipated her suspension being shot by the potholes and rocks in the road. If it was difficult to get a car down there, what would it be like for Laura?

Molly put her hand on the back of Laura’s chair. She was plowing ahead but looked exhausted. “I’ll be fine,” she said, looking up at Molly and smiling. “It’s not far to the cabin, is it? Firecracker can take it.” She patted her chair’s arms as if it was a racehorse about to win a Derby.

Molly laughed. They’d voted on a name for Laura’s chair on their first night outside of Fairfield, on the way to the hospital. Lucky had been unconscious, the other kids exhausted, shellshocked from their ordeal, and desperately worried about their friend. Laura had suggested naming it as a way to cheer them up, and Jenna had put forward ‘Firecracker’ as a tribute to both Lucky’s tenacity and his neat trick with the fireworks that had gotten them out of Fairfield Prison all those weeks ago. Erik and Scarlett had agreed, because the chair’s orange frame made it look like it should have flames printed on its sides, and that was that; Firecracker had become the twelfth member of their group.

“Okay then, love,” Alex said, gesturing to the track. “Ready?”

Laura smiled and nodded, but not ten minutes into the journey it became apparent that she was struggling.

“Argent can help,” Alex suggested, taking hold of his leash and stopping to try and fasten it to Laura’s chair.

“No, absolutely not,” Laura said. “He’s not a sled dog, Alex. If he pulls me more than a few feet, he’ll hurt himself.” Molly watched as Laura peered over the edge of the chair at her wheels. “Shoot,” she muttered. “The casters are taking a beating.” She folded her arms across her stomach and looked up at her husband. “I hate to say this, Alex, but if I puncture one of the inner tubes or the casters go, we’re going to be in trouble.”

“We have some spare inner tubes,” Alex said, almost proudly. “They came with the chair.”

“Yes, but how many? It’s not like the nearby bike shop will be open on Monday for extras if we use the ones we’ve got.” Laura winced a little as she spoke, clearly aware she was being sarcastic and on the verge of short-tempered.

“Laura?” Molly stepped forward and interrupted them. The Bankses turned in unison to look at her. “You might hate this idea, but what if we put you in one of the wagons? The chair folds down, right?”

Laura swallowed hard and looked at the wooden cart her husband had been pulling. It was humiliating, Molly knew that, but it was the only solution she could think of. Laura pursed her lips and pulled at her ponytail. She was pale, sweaty, and clearly on the edge of exhaustion. “What about our supplies?”

“We have room in our packs. We can divide them up and move some of the rest into the other wagon,” Colton offered, rubbing his knee.

“Looks like you need the ride more than me,” Laura said as Colton winced at the pain in his leg.

“Don’t change the subject,” he said gently.

Laura glanced at Alex, who was deliberately not speaking up—aware she needed to make this decision on her own.

“Come on, Mom.” Scarlett was wrapping her arms around her mother’s neck. Offering her a peck on the cheek, she said, “You can pretend you’re a queen and we’re your loyal subjects carrying you off to your palace.”

Laura laughed at that. “All right.” She nodded, sighing slowly. “All right, let’s do it.”

A few minutes later, they’d emptied Tommy’s wagon and used one of their backpacks for Laura to lean against, distributed their supplies among them, and folded down her chair.

While Molly, Scarlett and Colton took Alex’s—now very full—wagon, he took Laura’s chair. It was cumbersome but not too heavy and he didn’t flinch as he picked it up. Next to him, Lucky had been entrusted with the wheels—lightening Alex’s load ever so slightly and allowing Lucky to feel useful despite his injury.

“Ready?” Tommy asked, looking back at his passenger.

Laura nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

As soon as they started moving, it was obvious that the bumps and dips in the road were causing Laura’s back to hurt. Argent was watching her closely; she’d braced her hands on her sides to try and stop herself from moving around too much, but it didn’t seem to be helping.

Another ten minutes down the road, Colton said quietly, “Feels like we’re the only ones here. Don’t see any signs of people. No abandoned trucks or litter on the road.”

“It’s a vacation spot, mostly,” Molly replied, grunting as they pulled the wagon over a large stone in the road. “The majority of folks who own cabins here are from pretty far out of town. It’d take them a long time to get here on foot.”

As they moved deeper into the woods, with the canopy shading them from the mid-afternoon sun, the anxiety in Molly’s chest began to lift. Here, nothing looked any different. Same trees. Same birdsong. No blood spatters on the ground or broken-down trucks with smashed windshields.

“Stop,” Colton whispered, taking hold of Molly’s arm. “Up there. A deer.”

Molly nudged Scarlett, whose eyes widened instantly. “Wow,” she breathed. “I’ve never seen one up close.”

Looking over at them, the deer blinked slowly and then—noticing Argent—slipped quickly into the undergrowth.

“They usually stay out of people’s way,” Molly said, smiling as she remembered going on deer spotting expeditions with her grandfather in this very spot when she was a girl.

“With the power out, nature might start to claim back a bit of ground,” Colton said.

Molly was about to add that, as much as she loved seeing them out in the wild, it was encouraging to know there would be food sources around, when Zack waved his hand at her.

“Molly, there’s a cabin. Is it yours?” Up ahead, helping Tommy with the wagon Laura perched in, Zack was pointing at a cabin that was only just visible through the trees.

“No, Zack, not mine. A little farther.”

“Shouldn’t we check if it’s empty? We could—”

Zack was cut off by his brother. “What? Steal stuff? That’s not what we’re here for.”

Molly nodded in agreement. “Sorry, Zack, these other cabins belong to other people. My cabin’s not far and I’ve got supplies there that I squirreled away before all of this started.” When Colton raised his eyebrows at this new piece of information, she added, “I was planning to come up here over the summer and start renovating the place. Ready for my big escape from the rat race.” She laughed a little, then returned to Zack. “I promise it’s not far.”

As they carried on past one cabin and another, Molly could sense Zack’s frustration. Even Tommy looked like he might have changed his mind and opted to squat for the night if it meant they could rest. But now they were so close, she wasn’t going to allow them to stop. Her cabin was where they needed to be. All these others were close to the county road, but hers was deep in the woods. There was no phone signal there, when phones were working, and GPS had always been thoroughly unsuccessful in finding it. Public records had it listed by a lot number only and, really, unless you knew the area it was incredibly hard to find. Which was exactly what made it the perfect place to hide.

The kind of place where Diego Cruz would never, ever, find them.

3

MOLLY

“That is my cabin.” Molly stopped, out of breath from pulling the wagon, and put her hands on her hips. Her jeans were looser than they had been a few weeks ago; she must remember to make herself a belt of some kind.

As the others peered through the trees, Molly’s heart beat a little faster. Not from the effort of the journey, but from nostalgia and relief and—dare she say it—happiness.

“It’s exactly as I pictured it,” Colton said softly as they walked toward it, pulling the wagon awkwardly around the trees.

“My grandfather and great-grandfather built it themselves,” Molly said proudly.

“It’s perfect.” Colton put one hand on her shoulder while the other continued to pull the wagon.

Behind them, Alex and Tommy had switched places and Alex was telling Laura that they were almost there.

“Thank goodness,” she breathed, holding her side. “My back can’t take much more.”

“Wait, I hear something.” Lucky stopped, a wheel tucked under each arm, and gestured for them to stop moving. “The window’s broken.” He pointed at the front window, the one that led to the kitchen. “And the door’s open.”

Molly swallowed hard. Surely, looters hadn’t made it out here?

Her fingers twitched as they moved to the back of her jeans. The gun Chase had given them when they left the hospital was cold against her skin. She took it out and held it at her side. Colton was doing the same.

Leaving the wagons, the two of them crept slowly forward.

“Kids, get behind the trees,” Colton whispered. They did as they were told, and clumsily, Alex and Tommy dragged Laura’s wagon as far out of sight as they could manage, then crouched in front of it with Argent.

“I hear movement,” Colton said.

Molly couldn’t hear anything, but his ears were better trained for situations like this, so she didn’t question him.

“People?”

He narrowed his eyes but didn’t reply. “Wait here, cover me, I’ll go check it out.”

“Not alone.” Molly tugged at his sleeve, thinking about his bad leg but not saying so out loud.

“Wait here,” he repeated, then moved quietly forward. His footsteps were remarkably light, barely snapping a twig as he approached the front steps.

Molly followed him but slipped behind a tree when she neared the front of the cabin. From here, she could hear what Colton had heard. Someone was inside, rustling things, moving around.

As Colton reached for the door, Molly fought the urge to screw her eyes shut. How awful it would be if they finally reached their destination and ended up in a shootout before they’d even stepped inside. Considering their luck so far, it wouldn’t surprise her, but she’d honestly felt that—finally—they were on the home stretch.

The door creaked as Colton nudged it open. Inside, the cabin was dark. Most of the windows were shuttered up; only the front ones hadn’t been because the shutters had been blown off in a storm last winter and Molly hadn’t gotten around to fixing them.

Colton stepped into the cabin. For a moment he remained visible, but then his bulky frame disappeared into the dark. Molly held her breath. She saw his silhouette flash past the broken window. Then there was a scuffle, things falling off surfaces. Colton yelled something indistinguishable, then, louder, said, “Get out of here! I have a gun!”

Molly broke her cover and stood facing the steps, gun raised, heart pounding. She’d shot a man before. She’d do it again if she had to.

The door moved. Swung open just a little. Then, in the doorway, she saw the black-masked face of a raccoon. Bigger than she’d expected, looking thoroughly disgruntled, it hurried outside, jumped onto the porch railing, ran a little way along it, then propelled itself into a nearby tree and was gone.

For a moment, Molly didn’t move. Then she started to laugh. Leaning forward onto her knees, she told the others to come out. “It was a raccoon,” she called. “Just a raccoon.”

“More than one,” Colton grumbled as he emerged from inside. “Little bastards have wrecked the place. I hope most of your supplies were canned.”

Molly nodded, still laughing—more from relief than because it was funny. “You didn’t think to shoot him so we could have raccoon meat for dinner?” she asked as she trotted up the steps to join him.

“Raccoon meat?” Colton frowned at her. “Should have thought of that. Sorry.”

“You didn’t mention there were steps.” Alex’s voice made Molly turn around. He was standing at the bottom, Laura’s wagon behind him. “How’s Laura supposed to get in and out?”

“Alex, I’ll deal with it,” Laura said in a tone that implied her husband was embarrassing her and should be quiet.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think.” Molly rubbed the back of her neck and tried to smile. “But we can build a ramp. Of course we can.”

“We’ll make a list of alterations and repairs as soon as we’re settled,” Colton added firmly, motioning for the teens to come on up. “Home sweet home,” he said, smiling at them and holding the door open.

As if they were on an overnight school trip, Scarlett, Erik, Zack, Lucky and Jenna raced inside. Within seconds, they’d pulled the dust sheet off the couch and had flopped down onto it.

“Oh, it’s so good to sit on a real chair,” Scarlett sighed, kicking off her shoes to rub at her ankle. “My feet are—” She trailed off as she pulled off her sock.

“Jesus, Scar, talk about blisters.” Erik wrinkled his nose at his sister’s bloodied feet. “Told you to wear different shoes.”

“They’re the only sneakers I have, idiot,” she replied. “How about some sympathy?”

“Okay, I’m sorry—sorry you’re too dumb to buy proper sneakers.”

“Mom!” As Scarlett swung her head around to look for her parents, Molly told them to stop bickering and strode across the room to throw open the shutters.

Light immediately filtered in, illuminating their new living space. Molly took a moment to look at it. The raccoons had done a fair bit of damage. Especially in the kitchen, where they’d clearly been trying to steal food from the cabinets. In the living room too, ornaments and picture frames had been knocked from her grandmother’s old sideboard onto the floor.

A knot formed in Molly’s throat. She blinked quickly, tears stinging her eyes, and bent down to pick up the frames that had fallen behind the couch. The first two were unscathed, but the third was badly scratched and its glass pane was broken. Molly traced her finger over the image. Her grandmother and grandfather, standing proudly outside their cabin. Molly wasn’t in the photograph, but she remembered taking it. She remembered taking hold of the heavy black camera and telling them to smile as she pressed the shutter.

In the kitchen, which was part of the same space as the living room, Tommy tried the tap. It spluttered out muddy water for a few seconds and stopped. Shrugging, he said, “Worth a try.”

“So, guys, this is it.” Molly put the picture, face down, on the sideboard and tried to hide the wobbly note in her voice. Suddenly, with ten people and a dog inside, the cabin felt far smaller than she remembered. A thin layer of dust had settled on just about everything, and there was so much that needed to be done to make it truly habitable.

The only times she’d come here as an adult, she’d stayed for one or two nights. She’d made the best of the facilities and hadn’t cared that things were broken or not working quite right. However, with winter approaching, and nowhere else to go, they didn’t have the luxury of allowing things to be ‘not quite right’. This place needed to be habitable, especially for Laura.

Molly was starting to feel panicky and was leaning on the back of the couch when Erik tapped her hand and said, “How many bedrooms are there?” Presumably, he was hoping he wouldn’t have to share with his sister.

Forcing a smile, Molly stood up straighter. “When my grandfather built the place, he always wanted it to be a place the whole family could come to. Grownups downstairs, kids upstairs was the plan. So, there are three rooms down here, and the loft has two bunk beds. The bathroom’s down here too.”

Alex and Tommy were helping Laura over to an armchair by the unlit wood stove when Alex said, “Right, so how about Erik, Scarlett, Jenna and Lucky upstairs? Me and Laura, Tommy and Zack, Molly and…” he paused, settled Laura into her chair, and looked at Colton. Molly felt her cheeks start to flush.

“I’ll take the couch,” Colton said quickly, not making eye contact with Molly.

“You don’t have to,” Molly countered.

“It’s fine, really.”

“Okay, we can take turns,” she said, smiling when he finally looked at her.

There was a pause, in which Molly felt as if everyone was looking at her, before Colton interrupted it by saying, “Is that a wood-burning stove?”

“It is.” Molly almost grinned as she thought of what it would be like to cook a real meal on that stove. “And…” She walked over to the kitchen and triumphantly threw open one of the cabinets. “We have coffee! Real coffee.”

“No way!” Tommy rushed over and examined the packet, which had thankfully survived the raccoons. “You are my savior, Molly.” Looking at his brother, he added, “Zack, give me a hand getting the supplies inside so we can enjoy a cup of this stuff.”

As everyone started moving around her, Molly leaned back against the timber wall by the stairs. Memories of her grandparents danced through the room; she’d been so happy here. Surely, she could be happy again?

“Molly?” Jenna was over by the door that led to the bathroom. “Sorry, but there’s an awful smell coming from here.” She’d wrinkled her nose and was holding the door closed as if the smell might poison them all if it was set free.

“Ah.” Molly straightened herself up and winced.

“What is it?” Jenna asked.

“That would be the composting toilet.” Molly watched as Jenna’s face fell.

“A composting toilet?”

“Better get used to it, kid.” Erik sidled up and patted Jenna’s shoulder. “We’re living the high life now.”

As Jenna giggled at Erik’s sarcasm, her face brightened in a way Molly hadn’t noticed before. Perhaps these kids really were becoming a family.

4

ALEX

Alex stalked around to the back of the cabin and leaned against the basement wall. They’d made it, finally, but he couldn’t help feeling as if he’d made a terrible decision. With the CAL out of action, they could have returned to their home. Sure, Erik and Scarlett wanted to be with their friends, but they’d have gotten over it.

At home, they had wide doorways. Handles in the bathroom. Furniture arranged so it was easy for Laura to move around. There were sidewalks with curb cutouts, smooth roads, proper ramps. Here, in this place, she was barely going to be able to move from the couch, and he couldn’t believe she was okay with it.

As usual, she was putting on a brave face. Smiling, telling everyone she’d be fine once they’d made a few adjustments. But it was more than a few. The bathroom was practically unusable for her and he had no idea how they were going to get around that one. With all the ingenuity in the world, it simply wasn’t big enough for the chair to fit through the door. They could remove the doorframe, maybe. Hang a curtain for privacy? Alex growled and shook his head; how could he expect his wife to live like this? Going to the bathroom behind a curtain in a house full of people.

It was the kind of thing she’d hate to talk to the others about; she’d be mortified by it, and it was just the first of many problems Alex could see ahead of them if they stayed in Molly’s cabin. With the kids upstairs, Laura would be totally unable to get to them if she needed or wanted to. The kitchen was big enough for Laura to get around, but the wood-burning stove wouldn’t be easy for her to use, and then there were the steps. They were steep. A ramp would send her careening down so fast she’d end up capsized in the trees.

After the accident, while Laura had been recovering in the hospital, Alex had worked tirelessly to make adjustments to their home that would allow her to be completely independent. Out here, he feared that even the best they could do wouldn’t be good enough.

Alex rubbed his temples. He didn’t smoke. Never had, but right now he wished more than anything that someone had a cigarette they could offer him.

“You okay, man?” Tommy appeared from around the corner and looked Alex up and down. “You look awful.”

“Just worried about Laura.” Alex scratched his once neatly-trimmed beard with his thumb and forefinger. “Not sure how she’ll manage here.”

“Better than being back in town though, right?” Tommy asked. “Safety in numbers.”

Alex grimaced, but was pretty certain Tommy could tell he was having second thoughts about being here.

He was about to voice his thoughts when a burst of laughter came from inside the cabin. “What’s going on in there?” Alex moved toward the front of the building.

“Probably discovered a dead raccoon,” Tommy quipped. “At least they’re all getting along now.”

“All except my twins,” Alex replied, laughing softly and following Tommy back to the cabin.

As they pushed open the door, an ungodly smell attacked their nostrils with gusto. “Jesus,” Tommy said, pulling his T-shirt up over his mouth. “What is that?”

“The composting toilet. Molly’s trying to clean it out. Looks like kids might have broken in as well as raccoons and…” Zack trailed off, looking utterly horrified and letting them fill in the blank for themselves.

Tommy stifled a laugh as he looked at his brother, who was wearing a clothespin on his nose. “Want one?” Zack asked.

“Here.” Lucky, also wearing a clothespin, held out a cloth bag full of them and gestured for Tommy and Alex to help themselves.

Alex shook his head, but Tommy joined in the fun.

In the armchair by the wood burner, Laura had pressed a dusty cushion to her mouth and nose and was laughing along with Scarlett and Erik. “Oh, Molly, it’s awful!” she shouted. “Can I do anything?” “No, no. Colton and I have it. Nearly there,” Molly shouted back. “But could someone go down to the basement and fetch the sawdust? A couple of fresh layers should fix this.”

Rolling his eyes at Molly’s optimism, Alex began throwing open the windows while the twins hurried off to explore the basement. When he reached the window behind his wife, he patted her shoulder and said, “Love, I think we need to have a chat about staying here.”

Laura met his eyes. “Later,” she said. “We’ll talk later.”

Almost an hour later, with the cabin airing out, the ten of them gathered on the porch and Molly proudly poured them each a mug of fresh coffee. Raising her mug, she smiled. “Cheers,” she said. “To brighter futures.”

“To brighter futures,” everyone chimed in.

“And to a new, funny kind of family.” Molly slurped her coffee loudly but caught Alex’s eyes and stopped. “Alex? Are you okay?”

He folded his arms in front of his chest and tapped his fingers on the side of the mug. He could feel Laura staring at him, willing him to keep quiet, but he couldn’t. He had to speak up. “Not really,” he said slowly, choosing his words as carefully as he could. “I’m worried about how we’ll all manage here. There’s a lot to be done to make this place secure for winter, and making alterations for us will just add to the pressure.”

He was careful to say ‘us’ and not ‘my wife’. He hoped Laura noticed.

Wrapping her fingers around her mug, Molly nodded gently at him. She was a pretty woman. Not as pretty as Laura, but definitely the kind of teacher he’d have had a crush on when he was at school. She was smart too, but she was also—in his opinion—a little naïve and a little too fixated on the idea of playing happy families. “Alex, we need to stay low.” She glanced at Jenna before continuing. “Diego could come looking for us again and we upset a lot of people back there. Sure, it’ll take work to get this place running, but it’ll be worth it. We’ll be safe, and together.”

Alex smiled, trying to encourage her to change the subject until he’d had the chance to talk to Laura properly when they were alone, but Molly continued.

“Diego got a lot of things wrong, but there was one thing he was right about.”

At that, Jenna Cruz raised her eyebrows.

“Community. We need one. Winter’s coming and with no snowplows, electricity or grocery stores to rely on, we’re going to need each other.”

“But Diego’s gone now.” He couldn’t help himself. The words came out before he could stop them. “Hicks arrested him, didn’t he? The CAL is out of action. Hicks took back charge of the school. The town’s safe. Is this really where we want to be in the depths of winter?”

Cutting in, Colton put his coffee cup down on the railing. His jaw twitched and he looked pissed. “Diego Cruz might not be a problem anymore, but don’t you think there are others who could take his place? Bigger, badder, uglier, fiercer guys than Diego who might think that now’s just about the perfect time to cause some chaos?” Colton picked his cup back up, gripping the handle so tightly his knuckles whitened. He was looking at Alex as though by suggesting he might leave, Alex was throwing back in their faces everything Colton and Molly had done for them so far.

“Sure, but—” Alex started.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” Zack said defiantly. “I like it here.”

Tommy nodded in agreement.

“I don’t want to go either.” Erik widened his eyes. Scarlett was doing the same and, in that moment, they looked so much alike that Alex remembered how he’d felt when they were born; when he could barely tell them apart and felt so much love for them he thought his heart would burst.

“Alex, I know you’re worried about me, but I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to be here. I want us to stick together.” Laura squeezed his arm. “Besides, I really don’t think Firecracker could cope with the long journey back with his casters in their current state.” She was trying to lighten the mood but it wasn’t working. Frustration swirled in Alex’s gut. Combined with the stench from the toilet, it was souring what should have been a great-tasting mug of coffee.

“Fine,” he said before trying again, brighter this time. “Fine, as long as you’re sure.”

“I am,” she said definitively. “Now, Molly, what’s first on the list of things to fix?”

As Molly started reeling off jobs, beginning with what they immediately needed in order to have a good night’s sleep, Alex walked away from the group, fetched Laura’s chair and set about trying to fit the wheels back on and assess the damage to the casters.

After a few minutes, Tommy joined him and crouched down at his side. “Need a hand? I’ve fixed a few bikes in my time. Not quite the same but—”

Alex nodded. “You know how much this thing cost? Three grand. Three grand and it didn’t survive more than half an hour in the woods.”

“But it’s a sports chair, right? Designed for speed on smooth surfaces?” Tommy chuckled a little, then sat back on his heels and met Alex’s eyes. “Look, this place isn’t smooth. Nothing about it is. But we’ve got each other. No one knows we’re here and there isn’t a soul for miles. We’ll fix the place up so it’s suitable for Laura. Just give us a chance, okay?”

Alex inhaled deeply and nodded. “Sure.” He forced a smile. “I’m probably just grouchy ’cos I’m hungry. You know what’s for dinner?”

“Nah, but anything cooked on an actual stove will be an improvement over the last couple weeks.” Tommy glanced behind them into the trees. “Shame Colton didn’t shoot that raccoon, though. I could have used some barbequed critter to get my energy levels up.”

“We could go hunting tomorrow,” Alex suggested, almost laughing as he pictured how delighted his father would have been to hear him say that.

“It’s a date.” Tommy patted Alex firmly between the shoulder blades, then returned to the task at hand. “Does Molly have any tools in the basement?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Alex stood up. “I’ll go look.”

As he descended the stairs into the dark, damp-smelling room at the bottom of the house, a thought flashed through Alex’s mind. Long-term, they could turn this into a series of rooms, accessible from the ground. Build a new door. They could even make the cabin bigger if they wanted to, but it would take months. Maybe even years to get it how they needed it.

Molly had said most of the homes around here were vacation places. Surely one of them would be more suitable for his family? One that belonged to an elderly couple? Maybe even one with wheelchair access? Tomorrow, if he went hunting with Tommy, he’d scout out the area. Just in case.

5

VICTOR

Victor put his feet up on the desk and crossed his ankles, looping his fingers together behind his head. He’d always wanted a chair like this. Leather. High-backed. An executive chair. Shame it had come his way under circumstances like these, but he was pretty sure Chief Bailey would have been happy for him to have it considering the good work he was doing.

On the chief’s old desk, cleared of his personal memorabilia, which was now in the trash out back, Victor had deposited his binder. He needed to update it, but it could wait. First, he’d do the ceremonial crossing off of the names on the whiteboard in the incident room.

Heaving himself out of the chair, Victor braced his hands on his lower back and stretched left and right to try and ease the ache he was feeling. His gut still hurt from the injury he’d suffered in the aftermath of the EMP, and he wasn’t used to being on his feet so much. Back at the prison, before all this, he’d managed to engineer it so that most of his shifts had involved nothing more strenuous than sitting down and watching the security cameras.

It wasn’t how he’d intended for his career as a prison guard to go, but just a few weeks into the job, he’d been attacked. A stab wound to the leg. After that, when he’d realized just how dangerous most of the inmates of Fairfield really were, and that his colleagues were next to useless in a crisis, he’d requested a position that would keep him out of harm’s way. All he had to do was hint, wide-eyed, that his sister had suggested he consult a lawyer about the fact that the prison’s security protocols hadn’t been kept up to date, and the warden had been happy to oblige.

“I think we’ll put you on desk duty for a while, Victor,” the warden had said, as if it had been his idea.

“Oh, thank you, sir,” he’d replied. “Thank you very much.”

An achy back was a small price to pay, though, wasn’t it, for getting rid of those filthy, murderous bastards who’d escaped the prison? Back when he was a guard, watching grainy security footage day-in-day-out, he’d fantasized about taking matters into his own hands; getting true justice for the families of those who’d been extinguished, abused, and assaulted by the offenders who called themselves men. And justice for himself. For the way he’d been humiliated. Made to feel worthless, scared, small. Even before he was a prison guard, when kids who would grow up to be the kind of guys locked behind bars had kicked his bike out from under him, thrown stones at him on the way home from school, yelled insults in the schoolyard.

Back then, he’d been powerless. Now he had all the power. He had maps, and guns, and soldiers at his disposal. He was going to clean up Fairfield if it killed him. He was going to get every last one of them. If their crime was minor, he’d lock them back up. If it was more than that—one of the really bad ones—he’d execute them. On the spot. No mercy.

Just as he’d done to James O’Malley. Sure, the kid looked harmless, but Victor had read his file. He’d almost puked onto his binder when he’d read what O’Malley did to that woman.

In the incident room, Victor crossed James O’Malley and Andrew Frank from the board, then erased Rick Walton and Luiz Garcia and rewrote their names under the heading: Fairfield Police Station Inmates.

On the table in front of the board sat a jug of cold coffee. Victor poured himself a cup and tried to imagine it being hot. It didn’t work. He put it down and emptied his go-bag next to it, carefully taking stock of his supplies. Since leaving the prison, he’d been on the move pretty much constantly. Now that he had a more stationary base at the police station, he’d need to be careful not to get complacent; his bag should be packed and ready at all times. There was no time to rest, no time to let the offenders assimilate into the town or take the road out when they heard there was someone after them.

Opening the wrapper on a cereal bar, he made a mental note to grab some more from the kitchen. That was where he’d stored his supplies. There weren’t many. Certainly not enough to share with the prisoners, and it was making them rowdy.

Pushing his bag aside, Victor flipped open his binder and updated the relevant pages. He’d have to head out tomorrow and track down Joe Mullins. Dead or alive, he had to be accounted for. “Everything has to be right,” he muttered. “Everything in order. When the power comes back on and the Department of Corrections comes knocking, it’s me, Victor Fox, who will tell them what’s what. Just you wait, not long from now I’ll be sitting pretty in the Warden’s office with a gold plaque on the desk, and you know what that plaque will say? It’ll say, Victor Fox. Warden of Fairfield Prison.”

“Who exactly are you talking to?”

Victor’s heart skittered in his chest. He looked up to see one of the guards Diego Cruz had lent him, standing with his arms folded, watching Victor with narrowed eyes.

“What do you want, Marco?” Victor slapped the binder closed, but at the exact same moment, another guard entered, shoving the door back so hard it clattered against the wall. He was followed quickly by the remaining two. Looking at Marco, he nodded.

Marco, arms still folded, nodded back, then turned to Victor. “Fox, we need to talk.” His gun was slung across his chest and he nudged it with his elbow.

“Diego instructed us to help you track down convicts who might be a danger to the community. He didn’t say anything about executing people.”

“Or starving them to death,” another chimed in, looking back toward the cells where the men they’d captured were shouting about being hungry.

A slow heat began to creep up Fox’s neck; his whole life, men like this had tried to bully him into submission. Well, not anymore. “You signed up to do what I tell you to do. That was the deal. When I got Cruz out of that hole he was in, he promised me resources.”

“He promised you resources in return for you finding his daughter. I don’t see you doing much in the way of finding her.” Marco looked him up and down and spat on the floor. The gesture made Victor’s throat constrict.

“Listen,” Victor heard his voice waver, “I’m keeping this town safe, which means right now my priority—and your priority—is finding the injured prisoner who got away. Joe Mullins. If he’s dead, great. If not, we need to track him down. He’s a nasty piece of work—”

“What’s all this ‘we’ crap?” another of the men spoke up, shifting his gun so it was a little farther forward.

“We work for Diego, and you need to talk to him.” Marco’s hand was on his gun now and his eyes were darker than before.

“I don’t have to do anything you tell me to. Cruz and I are partners in this.” Victor squared his shoulders, tried to make himself bigger, as if he’d come across a wild animal that he wanted to believe he was a threat. As he puffed out his chest, the recently healed wound on his stomach tugged uncomfortably.

“I think you do.” Marco raised his gun. The other three did the same. “Unless you want to take us all on?”

Victor hadn’t even reached for his own gun yet. He swallowed hard. “Fine. Let’s go see Cruz. Your attitude is impacting how efficiently I do my job, and I’m sure he’d love to hear about it.”

“Oh yeah,” drawled Marco, “I’m sure Diego would love to hear all about it.”

6

MOLLY

“Lucky, pass me that can of beans.” Molly extended her hand and waited for Lucky to press the can into it.

“You don’t have a bunch of frozen pizzas hidden around here, do you?” Lucky asked, peering forlornly into the cupboard above the sink as if he might find a working freezer hidden at the back of it.

Licking her lower lip at the thought of melted cheese, Molly ground some salt and pepper into the rice she was stirring. “I’m afraid not.” She pointed to one of the drawers and added, “There should be a can opener for the beans around here somewhere, though.”

“So, when you said you brought supplies up here, you meant mainly coffee?” Colton was leaning against the wall near the stove, arms folded, a relaxed smile on his face.

Molly rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t you start. I wasn’t expecting the end of the world, was I?”

Nodding, Colton took the can opener from Lucky and opened the beans so that Molly could tip them into the pan with the rice.

“At least we have seasoning,” she said, gesturing proudly to her salt and pepper shakers. “I can’t tell you how bland the food was in the CAL.”

“I can imagine.” Colton rubbed the stubble on his chin as if he was considering whether he needed to shave.

“Isn’t there anything else we can eat?” Lucky started moving around the cans they’d brought with them. Some from the Banks house, some from the hospital—donated by Chase when the other doctors weren’t looking.

“You’re supposed to be putting those away,” Colton chided gently, heading over and starting to put the cans in order into different cupboards.

“We don’t know how long this stuff will need to last,” Molly added. “So, for tonight, we’re doing rice and beans. But we have canned peaches for dessert, and tomorrow Alex and Tommy are going to go hunting.”

“Cool.” Lucky’s eyes brightened.

“Adults with working arms only,” Colton said, raising an eyebrow. Then, “Why don’t you go ask one of the others to help you set the table?”

“Plates are in the sideboard over there.” Molly lifted her head and gestured to the large oak sideboard her grandfather had made for her grandmother to celebrate their fortieth wedding anniversary. He’d spent hours sanding it. Molly had helped him.

As she sighed, Colton put his hand on her shoulder. For just a moment, she raised her fingers and brushed them across his, but then she took them back, blushing, and concentrated on the rice.

“This place holds a lot of memories?” Colton stepped away but didn’t take his eyes from her face.

“Good memories,” Molly smiled. “Really good. The happiest times in my childhood were spent here.”

Colton opened his mouth to reply, but was cut short by a stampede of teenage feet clattering into the room. As they both turned to see what was going on, Lucky careened inside followed closely by Zack, who was waving what looked like a small ax around above his head, and Erik, who was holding a hammer.

“You better run!” Zack yelled, laughing.

“The bogeyman’s going to get you!” Erik added.

As Scarlett and Jenna rushed inside too, laughing at the boys, Lucky leaped over the couch in his effort to escape Erik and Zack. Halfway across the room, he tripped on the corner of the rug and went flying into the sideboard. Lucky yelped and grabbed his bad hand as a vase toppled off onto the floor. Molly watched it in slow motion; another remnant of her grandparents breaking into smithereens as it hit the hard wood floor.

Colton’s forehead had creased into a disapproving frown. Marching, still with a limp, into the middle of the room, he gestured to where Lucky lay cradling his arm and said, “How old are you boys? What were you thinking?”

Zack and Erik had lowered their weapons. Both looked sheepish as Colton helped Lucky to his feet.

“We were just messing around,” Lucky said weakly.

“I can see that, but don’t you think this place took enough of a battering from the raccoons without you three adding to the chaos?”

Lucky hung his head, glancing guiltily at Molly.

Stepping away from the stove, Molly folded her arms in front of her stomach and swallowed hard. “It’s not just that,” she said, trying not to look at the pieces of broken vase on the floor, “someone could have been hurt. You’re still recovering, Lucky. You’re supposed to be taking care of yourself.”

“And what do you think would happen if someone seriously injured themselves out here? Where’s the nearest hospital?” Colton was mirroring Molly’s posture. Arms folded. Scowling.

Behind them, Molly heard footsteps at the door and turned to see Tommy watching.

“Ah, come on,” he said, shrugging. “They’re kids. They were just letting off steam. They won’t do it again.” He widened his eyes at his younger brother, then at Lucky and Erik. “Will you?”

All three shook their heads in unison.

Looking at Colton, Molly wondered whether he was about to tell Tommy he wasn’t being hard enough on the boys, but to her surprise, he didn’t. “Fine,” he said. “Lucky, let’s look at that hand. The rest of you, clean this up.”

As Zack glanced at Tommy for confirmation, Tommy nodded and waved at the floor. “Well, go on, clean it up. And put those tools back where they came from.”

As the teens did as they were told, Tommy took up Lucky’s task of setting out plates around the table. Thankfully, her grandfather had built it with a large family in mind, so it was big enough to seat twelve people. Standing back, Tommy examined the chairs, then removed the one on the end for Laura.

Despite the twinge of sadness in her chest as she watched her grandmother’s vase being swept into a dustpan, Molly smiled at the scene in front of her. Somehow, out of all the madness, they’d formed a chaotic little family. A family she was glad to be a part of.

Glancing at the rice and beans, which had gone a little crispy on the bottom after being left unstirred on the stove, she wrinkled her nose. Perhaps Lucky was right; it was their first night. They might have limited supplies, but they could push the boat out a little. Couldn’t they?

After depositing the pan of rice in the middle of the table and calling to everyone that dinner was ready, Molly returned to the kitchen and stretched into the back of the cupboard near the window. There it was: a bottle of diet lemonade. She’d brought it to the cabin anticipating long summer nights full of white wine spritzers and reading by candlelight. Unfortunately, she hadn’t brought any wine.

As the others gathered around the table, Molly held up the lemonade and triumphantly waved it at them. “Anyone for a tipple?” she asked, grinning.

At the sight of the soda, the kids’ eyes brightened a little, but Tommy read her mind by saying, “No whiskey? Wine? Beer?”

“I have some beer.” Alex Banks stepped out of the hallway that led to the ground floor bedrooms and gestured to his backpack. On the floor beneath the window, it hadn’t been unpacked yet. “Only two cans, but—”

“Shandies for the grownups, then,” Molly said, smiling.

“Shandies?” Alex exchanged a look with Tommy.

“The British drink them,” Molly said, taking a can from Alex and pouring a little beer into the bottom of a glass before topping it off with lemonade. “I saw it on TV once.”

As Laura took up her place at the head of the table, Alex took a sip of his shandy and looked quietly surprised by its pleasantness. At the same time, Colton lit some candles in the center of the table and began to dish out equal portions of rice and beans. As the food landed on their plates, Argent tilted his head, perhaps wondering whether he was going to be expected to eat their leftover rice or if someone had remembered to pack kibble for him.

“Here we go.” Molly handed out drinks to everyone, then sat down opposite Colton and raised hers into the air. “To our first night,” she said.

“To our first night,” everyone echoed before taking long slurps from their drinks.

“Does the cabin have a name?” Laura asked as she set down a bowl of kibble on the floor beside her and turned to her own meal.

“Actually, no.” Molly put down her fork and looked around at the cabin walls. Why hadn’t her grandfather named it? She didn’t remember ever asking him. “Maybe we should come up with one.”

“How about The Tree House?” Erik asked, glancing at Jenna. “You know, ’cos that book about the Robinsons was what helped us get Jenna back?” As Jenna smiled, Erik shrugged and looked down at his plate. “Or whatever.”

“Good idea, Erik.” Molly spooned some rice into her mouth, chewed quickly, then added, “But does anyone know what the Robinson family called their treehouse?” Gesturing to Jenna not to answer, she waited. “Anyone?”

“Jungle house?” Lucky offered.

“Jungle house?” Erik scoffed. “Why the heck would they call it Jungle house?”

“They were on an island, not in a jungle,” Zack muttered.

“Okay then, smartasses, what’d they call it then?” Lucky bit back.

“Falcon’s Nest,” Jenna finally cut in. “They called it Falcon’s Nest.”

“I haven’t seen many falcons around here,” Lucky said, smarting from being made to feel stupid.

“What about Raccoon’s Nest, then?” Scarlett, who was sitting next to her brother, grinned around the table.

A ripple of laughter moved through them.

“Raccoon’s Nest,” Molly said, pressing her index finger to the side of her mouth. “Raccoon’s Nest…” She glanced at Colton and saw him smiling at her. “Yeah. I like that.” She patted the table firmly. “Raccoon’s Nest it is. Who wants to make a sign for the door?”

“Scarlett’s the artistic one,” Erik said quickly.

“Sure,” his sister replied, shrugging. “I’ll do it.”

“Great.” As Molly returned to her food, she glanced at Alex. While Laura looked happy and more relaxed than Molly had seen her in days, Alex still looked unsettled. Tomorrow, she’d try to talk to him alone. There must be something she could say to ease his worries about the cabin. Surely he could see that being together made them stronger? Looking away from him before he noticed her staring, Molly gestured to the pot of rice. “Help yourselves to more, everyone. There’s nowhere to store leftovers, so eat up.”

“Can we add that to the list?” Colton reached into his pocket and took out the notebook and pen that Molly had given him from the sideboard. “Some kind of cold storage? Over winter, we should be able to keep things relatively fresh for a few days.”

“A box buried underground should do it,” Zack answered. “I saw it on the Discovery Channel once.”

“Okay then.” Colton ran his finger down the list, then passed the notebook to Molly. “You want to divvy up the tasks, Miss O’Neil?”

Putting down her fork, Molly looked over the list.

“I’m doing the sign,” Scarlett reminded her.

“Yes,” Molly replied. “But maybe that’s a task for the evening. We need to make the most of daylight hours for essential tasks.” Looking up, she nodded around the group and said, “Okay, so Alex and Tommy, you’re going hunting? Maybe take some paper so you can sketch out a map of any neighboring cabins, streams, and so on?”

Alex nodded. His eyes had brightened a little. Good; he liked hunting.

“Laura, there’s some fabric in the cellar. I’d like to try and create curtains for the windows. Extra insulation. Are you any good with a needle and thread?”

Pressing her lips together, Laura shook her head. “My mother would just love it if she knew I was sewing curtains.”

Molly paused, wondering whether she should have asked Laura to do something more physically challenging. Was she being patronizing by asking her to sew? But Laura was smiling.

“Sure, I’ll give it a go.”

Molly nodded and continued to reel off tasks. When she’d finished, she closed the notebook triumphantly and said, more to Alex than to anyone else, “See what we’ll be able to achieve if we work together?”

“If we do all this now,” Lucky said as he shoveled his last spoonful of rice into his mouth, “does that mean we get to spend the entire winter doing no chores at all?”

“I’m afraid not.” Molly tilted her head to the side. “There will still be jobs to do, but we’ll certainly have a lot more free time when the snow comes. Nowhere to go and nothing to do.”

“Sounds great,” Erik said sarcastically. “Months of boredom, here we come.”

“Oh, nonsense.” Molly rolled her eyes. “We won’t be bored. There are stacks of books in my room.”

“And board games,” Tommy said, gesturing to the sideboard. “There are board games in there.”

As Erik wrinkled his nose at the idea of books and board games, Jenna glanced up from her plate. Louder than usual, she said, “There you go then, Erik. There’s no need to worry. You can spend the winter playing Scrabble and reading Shakespeare.”

“You might come out of these woods a little more cultured,” Scarlett added, giggling as she nudged Jenna and the pair laughed.

“Or at least able to spell,” Laura Banks joined in, which caused Erik to groan.

“Whatever,” he said, although Molly could tell from the twitch of his lips that he was only half sulking. After what they’d all been through, a lonely winter with just each other and some books for company sounded pretty darn good.

* * *

After a group effort with the washing up, Molly clapped her hands and congratulated everyone. “And as a reward,” she said, grinning, “dessert!” With a flourish, she opened up the bread bin on the countertop and produced a stack of chocolate bars. Dishing them out, one each, she watched as the teens eagerly ripped open their wrappers.

Before they’d had a chance to start eating, however, she cleared her throat and said sternly, “I should warn you, though, that this is the last of our chocolate supplies. It’s up to you whether you finish your bar or save some, but unless we discover a convenience store around the corner, it’ll be the last sugary treat you have in a while.”

For a moment, the teens looked bereft. Staring at one another, they fiddled with the tops of the wrappers as if they were seriously considering handing them over. Keeping them for an emergency. Then, almost at the same time, they grinned and tucked in anyway.

Laughing, Molly sat back down in one of the dining chairs and nibbled the end of her own chocolate bar. Tommy had consumed his in a couple of bites. Laura and Alex too, but Colton was turning his over in his hands.

“Don’t tell me you don’t like chocolate?” Molly asked, nudging him with her elbow.

Standing next to her, Colton waved the bar at her. “I’m a pessimist,” he said. “I’ll keep mine.”

Looking down at her own chocolate bar, Molly shook her head. “Well,” she said, “I’m a cautious optimist, so I’ll save half.” She gestured to the bread bin. “Mind putting this back?”

“Sure.”

After depositing both of their bars back into the bread bin, Colton glanced at the clock. Of course it wasn’t working, but it was dark outside. Pitch dark, which meant it was definitely approaching bedtime.

Nodding at him, Molly stood up and waved toward the couches. “Guys, we’ve got a lot to do tomorrow. We’re all pretty beat. I think we should settle down and get some sleep in real beds, don’t you?”

As she spoke, remembering Colton had offered to stay on the couch, guilt tugged at her belly, but she knew he wouldn’t let her switch places on their first night. No matter how much it might have benefited his knee to do so.

After a few grumbles from the teens, eventually they agreed. All except Zack, who stood next to Tommy with a strange expression on his face.

“Zack? You okay?” Molly walked over and put her hand on his shoulder.

“Sure,” he shrugged. He was watching the others gather their backpacks and make their way to the loft ladder. Molly exchanged what she hoped was a meaningful glance with Tommy.

“You don’t have to bunk up with me, you know,” he said, pointing to the loft. “I’m sure there’s space.”

“Plenty,” Molly said. “I’m not sure we could get the single bed up there, but you could take the mattress from Tommy’s room. If you want to be with the others?”

Overhearing them, to Molly’s surprise, Erik yelled, “What you waiting for? You really want to sleep downstairs with the grownups?”

“How old are you? Six?” Zack grumbled back, but he was hiding a smile. Glancing at his brother, he added, “Fine. If it’ll stop you ragging on me. Come help me with the mattress.”

Shoving his backpack at Scarlett, so she could take it upstairs for him, Erik hurried over and followed Zack down the hall to the room he and Tommy should have been sharing.

“That was nice of you,” Molly said, studying Tommy’s face as he watched his brother.

Tommy shrugged. “I’m glad he’s made friends.” He cleared his throat and smiled at Molly. “Thanks for bringing us with you. This place…” he looked up at the ceiling, then at the timber walls and the candlelit table, “it’s exactly what he needs.”

Molly was about to tell Tommy that it wouldn’t have been the same without the Hargrove brothers when Alex interrupted.

“We’re heading off to bed,” he said, then lowered his voice. Across the room, Laura was navigating her way toward the hallway, Argent at her side. “But tomorrow, we need to do something about the bathroom door. It’s too narrow for Laura.”

Molly’s eyes widened. “Oh. Right.” Laura hadn’t said anything. “Of course,” she nodded. “We’ll think of something.”

Alex pressed his lips together, but he didn’t say thank you. “Right. See you tomorrow.”

“He’s still not happy about staying, is he?” Colton asked, as soon as Alex was out of earshot.

Molly bit her lower lip and tugged at the end of her ponytail. “No. I don’t think he is.”

* * *

A little while later, with everyone settled in their rooms, Molly was lying in bed staring at the ceiling and trying to sleep. Upstairs, giggles, shouts and loud footsteps reminded her of the few times she’d supervised overnight school trips.

High on sugar, and relief, and tiredness, the teens had gone loopy. At first, their energetic noisemaking made her smile; despite everything, they were still laughing. When they didn’t show any signs of settling down, however, the smile wore off.

She was about to get up herself when she heard Colton growl, “Quiet up there, you kids!” It was the kind of voice he’d have used when he was driving the school bus. Assertive, but not enough to get them to listen to him. After a few seconds of silence, it simply drew more laughter and a cacophony of loud shhhhhh-ing.

Pulling her cardigan from the bedpost, Molly wrapped it around herself and swung her legs out of bed. She shivered a little, then straightened her shoulders, cleared her throat, and flung open her bedroom door.

As she marched toward the bottom of the ladder, she sensed Colton staring at her.

“Now, listen here!” she shouted, using her best teacher voice. “You’ve had your fun, but now it’s time for sleeping. If this continues, we’ll have to consider splitting you up. A grownup and a kid in each room. Does that sound like fun?”

A pause.

“Does it?”

“No, Miss O’Neil.”

“Then, might I suggest you all settle down and go to sleep?”

“Yes, Miss O’Neil.”

“If I hear one more peep from you, you’re on permanent toilet duty. Understood?”

“Yes, Miss O’Neil.”

“Sorry, Molly.”

“We’ll be quiet.”

Molly looked over at Colton. He was silently applauding her. Her mouth twitched into a smile.

“Good,” she said sternly. “Now, bed.”

After lingering for a moment at the bottom of the ladder, Molly tiptoed back toward her room. Pausing by the couch, she watched as Colton added another log to the fire. Lightly, she touched his arm. “Goodnight,” she whispered.

Colton glanced toward the loft, then back at Molly. She expected him to move closer. Perhaps take her hand in his, but he didn’t.

“Goodnight, Molly.” He stepped back. “Sleep well.”

7

ZACK

For the first time in a long time, Zack woke feeling groggy from oversleeping. Since getting out of the prison, they had been constantly on the move. Each day had started with the gnawing knowledge that they weren’t safe. Today, though, when Zack opened his eyes and waited for the twisting sensation in his gut, it didn’t arrive.

Looking up at the ceiling, where he saw cobwebs covering wooden beams and a small skylight, which framed more tree branches than sky, Zack smiled to himself. He was tired, but that was mainly because they’d stayed up goofing around instead of going to sleep when they should have. He was hungry, too, and not really looking forward to breakfast. And they had a heap of stuff to do to this place before winter crept in, but no one was chasing them. They had nowhere to be.

“Dude, you snore like a train.” Lucky was leaning over the edge of his lower bunk. When Zack looked up at him from his mattress on the floor, Lucky tossed a pillow at him.

“That wasn’t me, it was Jenna,” Zack replied, easing himself up onto his elbows.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Jenna, who was already dressed and sitting on the side of her bed, rolled her eyes. “You keep telling yourself that.”

From downstairs, Molly—it still felt weird calling her that—called up to them. “Breakfast’s ready, sleepyheads.”

Zack stood up and pushed his floppy hair from his face; perhaps he should cut it soon. Then again, perhaps he’d be grateful for the extra insulation when winter set in.

Rifling in his backpack, he pulled out one of the sweaters Molly had made them take from the gas station back in Fairfield and tugged it over his head. The others were already by the ladder, hurrying down as if they thought someone might have magically conjured up bacon and pancakes for breakfast.

“Oats,” Alex said, setting down a large pan of porridge in the middle of the table.

“Help yourselves,” added Laura. “We were all a bit lazy this morning, so we’ve got some catching up to do.”

Spooning oats into her mouth, Molly nodded. She was wearing jeans and a plain gray T-shirt. She used to wear more makeup, when she was their teacher. Now she looked more like a mom. Or maybe a big sister. The kind who appeared in those happy family TV commercials or ‘everything turns out okay in the end’ movies.

“We might have to revise our list from yesterday,” she said, glancing at Alex. “I don’t think there’s time for hunting today.”

Zack looked at his brother. Tommy didn’t seem too disappointed. “What do you want us to do instead?” he asked, seemingly happy to take orders, which surprised Zack a little.

“Well…” Molly paused as Colton passed her a mug of coffee. Zack had never been a coffee drinker, but it smelled better than the porridge. She flipped open the notebook she’d started writing in yesterday. “I’d say inventorying our supplies and scouting out the area are our top priorities.”

Molly looked around the group for confirmation. Scarlett and Erik were bickering, but everyone else nodded.

“So, how about Laura and I stay here and do inventory? Food, water, tools. Figure out what we need for the cold storage Colton mentioned and for building an outdoor latrine.”

“An outdoor latrine?” The twins’ dad, Alex, frowned and allowed his spoon to clatter into his bowl. He looked quickly at his wife, then back at Molly as if she’d said something terrible.

“Colton’s idea,” Molly said quickly. “There’s ten of us and only one toilet. Not ideal.”

As Alex said nothing and returned to his food, Zack narrowed his eyes. He was trying to figure out what was going on; Mr. Banks had seemed like a good guy back in town, but here, he was on edge and grouchy. From what Zack could figure out, Alex didn’t think the cabin was very wheelchair friendly, but what other option was there? As far as Zack was concerned, the guy was being an ass. But he wouldn’t have said so in front of Erik or Scarlett; the last thing he needed was an argument with them over whether their dad was ruining the mood.

Skipping over the awkwardness, Molly said cheerfully, “So, Laura and I will figure that out, while the rest of you divvy up and scout out the area.”

“I found this—” Laura Banks interrupted by pushing something across the table. “A map. In one of the bedside drawers in our room.”

“Oh!” Molly reached for it and spread it out. Zack tilted his head to see it better.

“Is the cabin on here?” he asked, nudging closer.

“Right there.” Molly pointed to a hand-drawn X near some trees. “That’s us.”

“There are no other cabins?” Tommy had moved next to Zack and was scanning the area.

“Not marked on the map,” Molly said. “But if you each take pen and paper and mark down roughly where things are in your area, we could populate the map when you’re back. Give us a true idea of what’s around and how far.” Gesturing to the area around the X, she continued, “So, how about Erik and Alex head east? Scarlett, Colton, and Jenna go south. Lucky and Zack west. Tommy, north?”

No one answered.

“Guys? A little enthusiasm?” Molly folded her arms and shook her head. “I thought you’d be excited to see what’s around here. I loved these woods when I was a kid.” She stood up and gestured to the trees outside the window. “This place was my sanctuary. Somewhere to escape the world. Now it’s our sanctuary. Our escape.”

Zack glanced at the others. Scarlett looked like she was about to laugh. “Sounds awesome.” Zack pushed his chair back from the table and nudged Lucky to do the same. “We’re game. Aren’t we?”

Taking the hint, Lucky nodded quickly. “Sure. Can’t wait.”

“Great.” Molly smiled broadly at them. After everything she’d done for them, Zack liked to see her smile. She deserved it.

“Grab your backpacks, in case you find anything useful,” Laura Banks said as she started to gather dirty dishes from the table, stacking them carefully in her lap.

“And be back around lunchtime,” Molly added.

“How do we know when it’s lunchtime?” Lucky frowned up at the broken clock.

“When your stomach tells you,” Laura replied.

* * *

“So, which way is west?” Lucky asked as they trotted down the steps at the front of the cabin.

Zack peered up at the sky. “Ummm.”

“That way.” Colton was handing out compasses, one for each pair, and giving them a brief masterclass in navigation.

“Hey, Colton, I think I’ll go with Zack and Lucky.” Tommy adjusted his empty backpack on his shoulder. “Alex and I can do the area north of the cabin tomorrow.”

“I don’t need babysitting.” Zack felt Lucky watching him and started to blush.

“Baby brother—” Tommy put an arm around Zack’s shoulders and started to make kissing noises in his ear. “It’s my job to take care of you and, let’s face it, there’s no way you two will make it back here without adult supervision.”

At that, Colton chuckled.

As they headed off away from the cabin, Lucky leaned in and made a pinched kissing face. “Baby bwother, I wuv you.”

“Get lost, Lucky.” Zack bit back a smile as he shoved Lucky’s good arm.

“That’s what I’m trying to avoid,” Tommy added, grinning.

“Oh yeah? Like you’re the expert on navigation. Remember when we visited Uncle Joe’s farm and you got me lost in the woods for like ten hours?”

“Ten hours? More like ten minutes!” Tommy picked up a large leafy twig and batted Zack over the head with it.

“Seriously, Tommy, get off me!” Zack stooped to find his own twig, gesturing for Lucky to do the same so they could play fight.

As they raced after Tommy, watching him weave through the trees, Lucky grinned and yelled, “We’re supposed to be taking this seriously! Writing stuff down!”

“We will. As soon as we get Tommy back for being such an ass,” Zack said, charging after his brother.

For a second, as Tommy disappeared behind a tree, they lost sight of him, but then there he was again. Except he’d stopped running.

“Give up, do you?” Zack and Lucky raced up to him, both brandishing their weapons. “Surrender!” They pointed their branches at Tommy, expecting him to turn around, but he didn’t move.

Holding out his hand, he dropped his branch to the ground and whispered, “Don’t move.”

“What is it?” Lucky’s eyes widened. “A bear? Not a bear? Do they have bears here?”

“If they did, it’d have eaten you by now,” Zack retorted.

“Not a bear.” Tommy was pointing at something. “A man.”

“Is he alive?” Lucky whispered.

Peering over the edge of a shallow gully, Zack swallowed hard. A guy, about his brother’s age, was lying face down in the ditch. His thigh was bleeding.

“I’ll check him over.” Zack moved forward and, before Tommy could stop him, slid down next to the man. With shaking hands, he checked for a pulse, then held his palm in front of the guy’s mouth. Something he’d done for his mother numerous times when she’d passed out on the couch.

“He’s breathing,” he said, looking up at his brother. “He’s alive.” He sat back on his heels and looked the man up and down. “Looks pretty beat up, though. He’s missing a shoe.”

“We should take him back to the cabin.” Lucky slid down next to Zack and waved for Tommy to join them.

“Bad idea.” Tommy was still standing above them, arms folded, shaking his head. “We’re supposed to be lying low. The last thing we should be doing is bringing a stranger back to the cabin. We have no idea who this guy is.”

As a rush of indignation surged in his belly, Zack rolled his eyes. “Seriously? Tommy, come on. He’s hurt. Bad. We can’t just leave him here.”

“He’s right, man,” Lucky said quietly, gesturing to his own still healing hand. “You guys helped me.”

“We know you,” Tommy bit back. “We have no idea who this guy is.”

“So, we walk away and wait for him to die?” Zack’s mouth dropped open. He couldn’t believe his brother would be so callous. Turning away, he stooped to pull the man’s arm around his shoulders and glared up at Tommy. “We’re helping him. So, are you going to help us or just stand there and watch?”

8

MOLLY

“Oh, yuck, this one has weevils.” Laura held out a bag of rice between her thumb and forefinger. Argent sniffed it, staring at the small moving creatures inside.

“Dang it.” Molly took the bag and threw it into the box they were using for food that was no good. “Do we need to check everything else?”

“It was in a cupboard with a bunch of cans. Should be fine, if we give the cupboard a good cleaning.” Laura gestured to the offending cupboard, wrinkling her nose a little.

They had emptied everything onto the table and had made lists of each food group. “Seems beans are a food group of their own,” Molly said, surveying their sheet of paper. “Looks like Argent is set with his kibble.” Molly smiled at the dog.

“He should be good for at least two months, more if I augment his food with rice, beans and any meat we manage to prepare.”

Molly nodded her head, relieved that at least one of them would eat relatively well.

“What else do we have?” Laura ran a finger down the list. “Flour, sugar, spices, salt—”

“Plenty of salt. I think my grandfather used it for curing meat,” Molly mused, trying to jog her memory.

“Well, that’s good. Do you remember how? If we can catch and cure a bunch of meat before the snow comes, that’ll be a huge help. Can you still hunt in the winter?” Laura was thinking aloud, trying to be helpful, but her constant questions were making Molly’s stomach twitch.

Yes, it was her cabin, but she knew next to nothing about how to survive in it over winter with no electricity. It had been on her list of things to do in the future. Learn how to survive in the wilderness. Learn how to cure meat, make fires, concoct delicious meals from nothing but rice and nettles. She hadn’t had time. She wasn’t prepared for all this.

“Okay, so there are ten people and one dog.” Laura had turned over their sheet of paper and was concentrating hard. Argent was next to her, as always, paying close attention.

Despite the tightness in her chest, Molly smiled; somehow, having a dog around the place made everything feel just that little bit more okay.

“And winter will last for…” Laura clicked the end of the pen she was holding and frowned at her piece of paper. “Three months? Four?”

“Let’s say four. Worst case scenario. This is Maine, after all.” Molly sat down at the table, pulled a mug of nearly cold coffee toward her and took a long sip.

“I was never any good at math.” Laura scratched her head and shoved the piece of paper toward Molly.

“Me neither. I was an English teacher, remember?” Molly laughed.

“Alex would be better at this.” Laura sighed and shook her head. “So, ten people. One dog. Four months.” She started to jot down numbers. “Excluding treats, because we don’t have too many of those left, if we base each meal on some kind of grain—since that’s what we have the most of—plus protein like beans, or meat if we can get it, and if we say each person needs half a pound of food per day….” Laura sat back in her chair and breathed out slowly.

Molly looked at the piece of paper. “How much?” She put down her coffee mug and picked up Laura’s pen. “That can’t be right.”

“I think it is.” Laura swallowed hard. “Which is a heck of a lot of food.”

They both looked at the table. It seemed like a lot, spread out like this, but over the course of four months—even three—it would soon disappear.

“How much is there down in the basement?”

A cold sweat was creeping up Molly’s spine. Not enough, she thought. Not nearly enough. “Some more rice, I think. The raccoons got ahold of anything tasty, though. Chips, cereal bars. All we’ve got of those is what you guys brought from home and the remains of what Chase gave us from the hospital.”

“Okay.” Laura breathed in deeply, then repeated herself. “Okay, what about firewood?” She glanced over to the fireplace. “Where’s your supply?”

Molly rubbed the back of her neck.

“You have a wood store? Right?” Laura was trying to be polite, but a flash of disbelief crossed her face. Molly knew what she was thinking; she was thinking it too. You’re not telling me you brought us all the way out here, to the middle of nowhere, and you’ve got no real supplies? Not even any firewood?

“I’ll go check outside.” Molly allowed her chair to scrape against the wooden floor as she got up from the table. Outside, the sky was sunny but the air was cool. It would soon be fall, and she’d brought ten people into the woods, far away from anything, to try and sit out the winter in solitude.

It had seemed so romantic, but now they were here she was starting to agree with Alex Banks; she was foolish. She’d dragged them away from everything they needed; medical supplies, food, heat, light. They didn’t have enough of any of it to last the winter.

Molly leaned forward onto her knees. Her breath was coming fast. She closed her eyes and, for the first time in weeks, the darkness behind her eyelids made her feel nauseated.

When she stood up, her head began to spin. She’d made another bad decision. They’d trusted her and she’d led them, once again, into danger.

She stopped when she felt something cold and wet against her hand. Looking down, her breathing slowed. Argent was staring at her. Weaving her fingers into his fur, Molly breathed deeply. “Thanks, boy. Thank you.”

Argent stood up and started to walk back to the cabin. He paused at the bottom of the steps.

“Okay,” she said, straightening herself up. “I’m coming.”

“Are you all right?” Laura was over by the sideboard and turned when Molly entered. “When you didn’t come back, I sent Argent after you.”

Sitting down hard on the edge of the couch, Molly put her head into her hands. She stayed like that for a moment and, when she looked up, Laura was watching her.

“Molly? You can talk to me.”

“I’m sorry.” Molly pulled a cushion onto her lap and squeezed it. “I’m just a bit overwhelmed. I feel like maybe I’ve made a horrible mistake.” She couldn’t bring herself to look at Laura. Instead, she focused on a loose thread that was catching on the cushion’s zipper. “I brought you all out here and there simply aren’t enough supplies to last the winter.”

“But we always knew it was going to be a challenge,” Laura said.

When Molly looked up, Laura was smiling at her.

“We didn’t expect to turn up and find a fully stocked mini-bar, Molly.”

Molly tried to laugh. “I know, but—”

“Listen….” Laura wheeled over and leaned forward to put her hands on Molly’s knees. “It’s going to be tough, but we have each other and the fact of the matter is that winter would be tough whether we were out here or back in town. Sure, there are additional….” she paused, searching for the right word, “challenges out here. But even back in town, heat and food would be issues. In case you’d forgotten, we’re kind of living through the end of the world here. No one was prepared for it.”

Molly sniffed loudly. Tears were stinging her eyes.

“If we work together, we’ll be okay.” Laura nodded firmly and sat back in her chair, wincing a little at the movement. “We just need to be methodical about it. We have time.”

“Methodical.” Molly nodded. “I can do that.”

“Good.” Laura turned back to the sideboard and picked something up. “Because I found these.” She was holding a stack of hardback books. “Foraging,” she said, waving one. “Recipes for game meat.” She waved another and added, “There’s a delicious-looking stew in here, if we can catch ourselves a hare or a wild boar.”

“Don’t think there are any wild boars in Maine. How about a rabbit?” Molly suggested. “Is there a book on how to make firewood from nowhere?” She walked over and took the stack from Laura, smiling as she remembered how they’d sat on her grandmother’s shelves when she was a girl and thought such books were dreadfully dull.

“I’m afraid that’s going to be a matter of hard work,” Laura said, then smiled brazenly and gestured to her chair. “And a task I am entirely exempt from.”

As the urge to cry subsided, Molly smiled back. “Well, we have about two cords of wood out back. One more should be enough.”

“That’s good,” Laura said encouragingly, in a very ‘mom’ tone of voice. “We can do that, no problem.”

“When the others get back, we’ll draw up shifts. If we put in time every day getting it chopped and put away, we should be okay.”

“Which trees are best?” Laura looked toward the window.

“They’ll all burn, but my grandfather always used the ones closest to the cabin for firewood. He liked to clear some ground between the cabin and the trees to prevent anything falling and causing damage.”

“Okay then, we have a plan.” Laura glanced at the table. “Coffee break? Have you calculated how long those supplies will last?”

“Not yet,” Molly grimaced. “One more cup, then I’ll work out rations?”

“Deal.”

9

MOLLY

“Hey, Mom! We found ducks!” Erik clattered in through the front door and ran over to where Laura and Molly were stacking food back into the cupboards.

Looking toward the window, Molly guessed it was past midday but not yet late afternoon.

“Ducks?” Laura put down the can she was holding and tilted her head at Erik. They really did look remarkably alike. Both twins resembled their mother more than their father.

“They won’t be around much longer, though. They’ll migrate soon. So, me and Dad are going to head back out tomorrow and shoot some.”

“Oh, you are, are you?” Laura smiled as her husband strolled slowly into the room and set his backpack down on the table. “Erik tells me you’re going duck shooting tomorrow?”

Alex laughed and shook his head. “I said I was going shooting. I didn’t invite Erik.” As Erik’s mouth hung open in disbelief, Alex put his arm around his son’s shoulders. “But I guess if he behaves himself between now and then I might reconsider.”

Grinning, Erik pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and motioned for Molly to come take a look. At the table, he pointed to the little map he’d drawn. “There’s a creek here. We followed it for about an hour. It meets a larger tributary.”

“Looks like good drinking water,” Alex said. “Fast-moving, straight down from the mountains, but we could boil it to be sure.”

“Bit of a trek to collect,” Erik added, “but if we make some trips before the snow comes, we should be able to gather enough for the months when we can’t make it out there.”

Glancing at Laura, Molly smiled. “Great. That’s great, you guys. Well done.”

“Spot anything apart from ducks?” Laura asked, looking hopefully at her husband’s backpack.

“Plenty of animal tracks near the creek. Definitely a good spot for hunting.”

“Molly’s grandfather used to cure meat,” Laura offered. “So, if you can catch some—”

Alex was nodding, muttering something about using the fishing nets in the basement to see if there was anything much in the creek, and maybe for catching the ducks rather than shooting them, when the sound of footsteps outside interrupted him.

Colton, Jenna, and Scarlett entered in a gaggle of chatter and smiles. “We found chips!” Scarlett said triumphantly, tossing two bags onto the table and opening her backpack to show everyone its contents. “And a bunch of other stuff.”

“Where?” Molly tried not to frown. “I thought we discussed leaving the other cabins alone.”

“We found two that were in really bad shape.” Colton poured himself some water and took a long drink before continuing. “Roofs caved in. Windows broken. If we hadn’t taken the stuff, animals would have.”

Scarlett and Jenna were nodding. “We found some books, too, and a first-aid kit.”

“The animals would have eaten those too, would they?” Molly folded her arms.

“Well, no.” Scarlett blushed sheepishly.

“But we left a note,” Jenna said.

“A note?”

“It said: We’ve borrowed some things. We’re in a cabin north of here, come find us if you need anything.”

Molly nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said, a little unsure about whether she liked the idea of someone turning up asking for supplies, but pleased the girls and Colton hadn’t just robbed whoever’s cabins they’d come across.

“We got some rope, too.” Colton sat down and rubbed his knee. “Rope, nails, and this—” He reached into his bag and put down a heavy-looking metal object.

“What is it?” Molly picked it up; it really was heavy.

“A pulley. Still moves,” he said. “Should be useful for something.”

“Anything else?” Molly asked, unsure what she was hoping for.

“No signs of anyone, if that’s what you mean,” Alex said.

Molly nodded. That was good news, wasn’t it? No one else for miles. The other cabins deserted. Exactly what they’d hoped when they left Fairfield.

“The others aren’t back yet?” Scarlett had opened a bag of chips and was offering it to her brother. Molly stopped herself from telling them not to; they’d discuss rationing when everyone was together.

“Not yet,” she said.

“Listen, why don’t you all freshen up? We’ll have something to eat, then Molly and I need to have a chat with you all about our supplies.” Laura was trying to sound lighthearted, but something in her expression caused the twins to look guiltily at their bag of chips. “Go on,” she said. “Go wash up.”

“I’ll pop out and see if I can spot the boys,” Molly said, heading outside. “They should have been back by now.”

No sooner had she reached the edge of the woods than, as if she’d summoned them, she spotted Zack and Tommy through the trees. Someone was between them. They were moving oddly. Molly narrowed her eyes. A little way ahead of the brothers, Lucky waved at her. If that wasn’t Lucky in between Zack and Tommy, who was it?

As Molly stared at the figures moving toward her, her chest tightened, and her mouth went dry. “Colton! Alex!” she yelled, rushing forward. “Get out here!”

When she reached Lucky, he grabbed her arm and, panting, started to gabble at her. “Miss O’Neil, Miss O’Neil, Molly. We found him. He’s hurt. Tommy said to leave him but me and Zack didn’t want to. We did the right thing, didn’t we? You can’t just leave someone who’s hurt? Do we have a first-aid kit? He needs help!”

Holding up her palms, Molly breathed out slowly. “Lucky, take a breath. Who is this man?”

Having caught up with Lucky, Zack and Tommy stopped in front of Molly and allowed their patient to droop slowly to the ground.

“I can’t,” Zack breathed, “I can’t carry him any farther.”

At that moment, Colton and Alex appeared. Alex first and then Colton, limping after his long morning walk.

“What the …?” Alex Banks pushed his hands through his hair and stared down at the man on the ground.

“Give us a hand?” Tommy said, stooping down. “Zack and I have been carrying him for miles. Took us an hour just to get him out of the ditch we found him in.”

“Whoa,” Colton said. “What happened to him?”

“No idea. We found him in a gully not long after setting off. His leg’s hurt.” Lucky was almost bouncing up and down with all the nervous energy inside him. “We need to get him inside,” he said urgently. “His breathing’s slowing down.”

“Molly?” Colton looked at her, waiting for her to give the ‘okay’.

For a moment, just a flash of a second, Molly thought about telling the boys to take the man back where they’d found him. As soon as the thought appeared, it was gone. Shaking her head, she brushed down her shirt and bent to help Tommy.

“Colton, Lucky, go tell Laura to get the first-aid supplies ready,” she said as Alex and Tommy helped her lift the man back to his feet. Draping his arms over their shoulders, while Tommy followed with Zack, Molly and Alex dragged the man toward the cabin.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Alex growled.

“No,” Molly replied. “I’m not, but what kind of people are we if we turn away someone who needs our help?”

Inside, Laura was waiting by the couch, ready to assess the incoming patient. When she saw him, however, she took a sharp intake of breath and put her hand to her chest.

“His thigh’s injured, Mrs. Banks,” Zack said, pointing to the man’s upper leg. “Not sure what else.”

“His breathing is pretty shallow,” Laura said, leaning over to listen to the man’s chest. “Possible hypothermia if he was outside for several nights.” Waving at Molly, Laura asked her to pass the scissors from the medical kit and set about cutting open the man’s pants around his leg wound.

As Laura instructed Zack and Lucky to fetch blankets and boil some water, Colton and Alex began to grumble.

“We shouldn’t have brought him in here,” Alex said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I agree.” Colton looked at Molly apologetically. “What if he’s dangerous? We know nothing about this man.”

“He doesn’t look very dangerous right now, does he?” Laura snapped, not looking up from her task.

Standing up from where she’d been kneeling beside the couch, Molly walked over to Alex and Colton and put her hands on her hips. “Listen,” she said quietly, “I tend to agree, but what option did I have?”

As Zack and Lucky returned, Alex glared at them and said, “Miss O’Neil told you to keep a low profile. What if someone was watching him? Watching you?”

“No one was watching,” Zack replied, rolling his eyes. “You sound like Tommy. He wanted to leave the guy in the ditch.”

“I never said that,” Tommy said, not very convincingly.

“Well, I say we fix him up, then ship him out as soon as possible.” Alex folded his arms.

“I agree.” Colton nodded at him.

“Guys….” Laura’s voice floated over from the couch.

“We can’t just throw him out. He’ll need some time to recover.” Molly looked from Alex to Colton.

“Guys!” Laura’s voice was more urgent this time. When everyone turned to look at her, she was staring at the man’s leg. Swallowing hard, she said quietly, “I think this is a bullet wound.”

10

VICTOR

It said a lot about Diego Cruz that in the three weeks since Victor had freed him from his bunker, he hadn’t bothered to find a proper place to live. In fact, he seemed to enjoy living in his little concrete box. For a few nights, after Victor set him free, he’d disappeared. Victor had heard rumors that he’d tried to get back in with the CAL, but that they were having none of it.

Some of his closest friends, the guys Victor was now using as foot soldiers, had gone with Diego, but most had stayed, happy to have the protection of the now largely inactive CAL. They’d lost control of the town, but they still had guns and a small patch of territory that the CAL didn’t want to enter. Victor got the allure of it, but he didn’t get the allure of Diego.

The guy was a pig. Entering the dark, dank little bunker that Diego called home, Victor wrinkled his nose. It was like a frat house—or at least how Victor imagined a frat house would look—after a party. Empty beer bottles. Cigarette butts. Empty cans of food. Except Victor had noticed that a lot of the supplies, which had been here the first time he’d entered the bunker, were dwindling.

The others hadn’t picked up on it. Of course they hadn’t. They were too stupid to be that observant. Victor had noticed, though. About a week ago, he’d followed Diego and hadn’t been surprised in the least to discover that this man who talked about community and helping one another had been taking his supplies to the skeleton of his old burned-out house and hiding them there. Presumably, the last place in the world anyone would think to go scavenging.

When all was said and done, Diego was looking out for himself.

Victor, on the other hand, was looking out for the entire town. He was protecting people.

“You haven’t found my daughter yet.” Diego took a toothpick from his mouth and tossed it onto the ground. He did not get up from the chair he was lounging in.

Victor shuffled uncomfortably. It was hot and airless down here. Like there wasn’t enough oxygen for more than one person. Behind him, Diego’s men—still holding their guns—moved closer.

“Not yet, Diego.” Victor deliberately used Cruz’s first name to indicate that he was not Victor’s boss. They were partners. Equals. Working together because each man had something the other needed; Diego had men with guns and Victor had an uncanny knack for finding people who were trying not to be found.

“You promised me you’d find her.” Diego blinked slowly. A gold tooth glinted as a small ray of light illuminated it.

“And I will,” Victor said resolutely. “But, as we discussed, Diego, my priority is finding and catching the criminals who have broken free from Fairfield Prison. My job is to make this town safe again. I thought you understood that.”

Diego puffed air from his nostrils. “Do you realize you sound like an idiot?” He narrowed his eyes and leaned forward onto his knees, grinning. Behind Victor, the guards sniggered.

A pinkish heat began to creep up Victor’s neck. “I beg your pardon?” he spluttered, struggling to maintain his composure.

“You think anyone cares about this town?” Victor waved toward the slice of daylight outside the bunker. “No one cares. But I care—about my daughter. And you promised me you’d find her.” Diego stood up and began to pace up and down. “I kept my end of the bargain, Victor.” He gestured to the guards. “I gave you some of my best men, and what have you given me?”

Victor swallowed hard. His mouth was dry and his back felt sweaty. It was too hot in here. Way too hot. “I assure you, I have been looking for your daughter.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard.” Diego stopped and leaned back against the cold concrete wall. “So, I’m going to make this very clear.” He narrowed his eyes and looked Victor up and down in a way that made Victor’s blood start to fizz furiously in his veins. “You find my daughter or not only will I take my men back, I’ll also have them shoot you first. Shoot you, then set your precious prisoners free.”

Victor’s lower jaw began to tremble. He wanted to yell. He wanted to turn around, like some hero in an action movie, grab one of the guards’ guns and turn it on Diego. Tell him he didn’t need him and his men, that he’d make the town safe on his own if he had to! Of course, he didn’t.

“Diego,” he said, forcing a smile, “there’s no need for us to fight about this. Maybe your daughter doesn’t want to be found?”

There was a pause. A pause in which the small amount of air in the room seemed to completely disappear. A cold sweat broke out on Victor’s palms. He shoved them into his pockets and laughed nervously.

“I mean, she ran away, is all I’m saying.”

Slowly, Diego stood up and walked the small distance from the wall to where Victor was standing. “You think my daughter wanted to leave me?” he asked, clearly not wanting Victor to answer. “She’s a teenager. Teenagers don’t know their own mind.” Surprisingly, Diego laughed. A loud, exaggerated laugh, and slapped Victor hard on the shoulder.

“No,” Victor said, forcing himself to laugh. “No, of course they don’t.”

“So, then you’ll stop prancing around hunting prisoners and you’ll find my daughter.” Diego tightened his grip on Victor’s shoulder. His nails dug into Victor’s flesh. He squeezed harder. “Won’t you?”

“Yes.” Victor’s voice cracked as he spoke. He smiled a shaky smile. “Yes, Diego. I’ll find her. I’ll find her.”

“Before you continue your little manhunt?”

“Yes. Before that,” Victor agreed, even though his gut was swirling with resentment.

“You’ll do whatever it takes to track her down?” Diego did not release his grip.

“Whatever it takes,” Victor repeated. “I swear, Diego. Whatever it takes.”

11

JOE

His head was throbbing. His eyes were closed. He knew that but couldn’t bring himself to open them. Twitching his fingers, he expected to feel leaves or dirt but instead felt the kind of scratchy fabric that reminded him of his grandmother’s hard brown couch. The one that stood in the center of the living room at his family’s farmhouse.

The air felt different too; he was inside, but inside where?

Something moved. Not footsteps. A wheel? A wheel turning. Something flashed in his mind. A bike. Mangled. On the sidewalk. Wheels spinning. Someone screaming. The sickening realization that the scream was coming from him. A bent, broken body on the hood of his truck.

Before he could open his eyes, he slid back beneath the surface of being conscious.

The next time he woke, Joe managed to slowly peel his eyelids open. His breath coming fast, he blinked at the bright light coming from a window opposite him. He tried to sit up but was unable to move.

“Keep still.” A woman’s voice.

Joe turned his head. A woman in a wheelchair was staring at him. She was older than him. Pretty. She moved her hand, and when he looked at it he realized she was petting a dog. A big dog. Joe’s lips twitched into a smile; he’d always liked dogs. The dog didn’t move. It didn’t like him. He could tell.

“Here, take a sip.”

The woman with the dog must be some kind of nurse. She was holding out a bottle of water. Supporting his head, she lifted it to his lips so he could drink. When she’d put it down, she pressed the back of her hand to his forehead and made a hissing noise.

“You have a fever,” she said. “Wait there.”

As she disappeared, Joe tried again to sit up but a searing pain in his leg stopped him. How was he injured? He looked down at his body, trying to remember. I was shot. The thought sprang into his mind. He recalled the running, the shouting, the others going down, being taken. The pain in his leg. The gully… that was it. He threw himself down there, didn’t he? He lay waiting for them to find him but they didn’t. And now he was here.

Joe looked up at the ceiling, then craned his head to examine his surroundings. He was in some kind of timber cabin. Not a hospital or a house. It reminded him of Jim’s cabin. Where they’d all been heading before—

He swallowed hard. He wanted more water but didn’t feel strong enough to reach for it. He was about to try when the woman returned. Did she live here alone? Just her and the dog? Joe couldn’t see anyone else, but surely she wasn’t all alone?

“Take these.” She pressed two small white pills into the palm of Joe’s hand.

“Wh-What are they?” Joe managed to ask.

“They should bring your fever down,” she replied.

Figuring that if she’d wanted to kill him, she’d have done so while he was unconscious rather than drug him, Joe did as she instructed and swallowed the pills.

“How did I get here?” he asked as a wave of exhaustion washed over him.

“Rest,” she replied. “There’ll be time for that later. Just rest.”

Joe allowed his head to fall back onto the pillow behind him. He wanted to talk to her. She was kind and he liked her dog even if it didn’t like him, but before he could speak, he found his eyes drooping closed and was asleep once more.

The third time Joe woke, the light in the cabin had changed. It was darker. The fire was crackling. Orange flames danced back and forth in the grate.

This time, he was able to push himself up onto his elbows, then farther so he was leaning against the arm of the couch. The bottle of water was on a small wooden table next to him. He reached for it and took a long drink. His leg hurt, but not as much as before.

Looking around, he searched for the woman in the wheelchair.

Behind the couch was a kitchen and a large wooden table. Dishes were drying beside the sink. Lots of dishes, so it couldn’t just be the woman living here. He strained his ears but couldn’t hear anything to indicate how many people were in the rooms around and above him.

He was about to try and swing his legs around to stand up when a door opened. A woman walked in. A different woman. Tall with pale freckled skin and strawberry-blonde hair. She smiled at him. Joe smiled back, conscious of his crooked teeth and bruised face.

“You’re awake,” she said, walking over to sit in the chair next to him. “I’m Molly. How are you feeling?”

“Molly,” Joe repeated. His thoughts were moving slowly, as if he was unable to process information at his usual speed. “I’m a little better, thank you.”

“You gave us quite a scare,” Molly said, folding her arms in front of her chest. Did she glance at his leg as she said that? Or was he imagining it?

“I’m sorry,” Joe said. “You found me?”

Molly didn’t answer. Instead, she said, carefully, “Do you remember what happened to you?”

Joe blinked at her. She was suspicious of him. Understandable, given that he had a pretty obvious gunshot wound to the thigh. He shook his head. “I don’t—” he said. “I can’t—”

Molly nodded slowly. Forcing a smile, she said, “It’s okay. Don’t rush yourself. It’ll come back to you. Do you remember where you’re from? Your name? Who shot you?” Molly didn’t take her eyes from him, examining his face as she mentioned his injury.

“Joe,” he whispered, sinking down on his pillow as his head began to spin. So, they knew it was a bullet wound. “I think I was running,” he said, aware he needed to offer her something.

“Running?”

Joe screwed his eyes closed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I feel a little dizzy.” Before he could make out Molly’s response, once again, he’d passed out.

12

MOLLY

“How is he?” Molly asked as she exited the bedroom.

Sometime in the early hours of the morning, she and Colton had switched places and he’d taken a shift watching the man they now knew was called Joe.

“He still has a fever,” Colton said. “The Tylenol didn’t touch it.”

“He might need antibiotics,” Molly replied as Colton got up and crossed the room to stand with her in the kitchen.

“Do we have any?”

“Not many,” Molly said. “Chase couldn’t spare much. The other doctors weren’t happy that he wanted to share.”

“I remember.” Colton grimaced and rubbed his palm over his face. He looked tired, crumpled around the edges, and was growing more stubble by the day.

“You know,” Molly said, touching her index finger to his jaw. “You’re going to have to shave soon or you could be mistaken for a bigfoot and shot by Tommy and Alex.”

Colton chuckled and scratched at his chin. “I kinda like it,” he said, smiling at her.

Moving over to the stove, Molly peered at it and grinned. “You lit it,” she said.

“Thought you’d need coffee.”

Molly was smiling when she remembered they were supposed to be rationing. “Do I want my one cup a day now or later?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

“Definitely now. You look like crap, Miss O’Neil—” Tommy’s voice interrupted them. Rubbing his eyes, he yawned and said, “I’ll take mine now too, thanks.”

“I didn’t offer to make it,” Molly said as she fetched the jar from the cupboard.

“I’ll wake the others.” Colton put his hand on her waist as he brushed past. The gesture made Molly’s skin twitch. In a good way.

Catching her blushing, Tommy offered her an exaggerated wink as he leaned back against the countertop. “So, things are obviously going well with the bus driver,” he said. “But how’s sleeping beauty over there?”

“Joe,” Molly replied. “His name’s Joe, and I’m not sure.”

“He tell you how he got shot?”

“He said he can’t remember.” Molly pulled her cardigan tighter around her waist and glanced over at the couch.

“You believe him?”

She sucked in her breath and held it for a moment. “Honestly? I’m not sure. I’m really not sure.”

* * *

By the time the coffee was brewed, the others had made their way out of their rooms and were helping themselves to porridge.

“A cup each,” Molly reminded them. “No more.”

At that, Lucky rolled his eyes sarcastically. “What, you mean I can’t have two helpings of gruel?”

“Gruel,” Jenna jibed. “You’re not Oliver Twist!”

Almost as soon as she spoke, Molly saw her freeze and glance at Lucky. Having lost both his parents, he was now technically an orphan, but the reference seemed lost on him, and he simply held up the sugar jar and said, “How much can I have? One cup or two?”

“One teaspoon,” Molly replied, ruffling his hair. “More than that’s bad for your teeth anyway.”

Leaving the teens to eat, Molly gestured for Laura to join her in the kitchen. Her face was grave as she repeated what Colton had said earlier. “He’s got a fever, Molly. The Tylenol didn’t touch it. He needs antibiotics.”

“How much do we have?” Molly lowered her voice.

“Not much.” Laura had a sweater in her lap and twisted it between her fingers.

“I might have some—” Jenna, who had been collecting her bowl of porridge, stopped next to Laura.

When Molly and Laura both widened their eyes at her, Jenna put down her bowl—which was hot and scalding her fingertips—and explained, “I took some of my dad’s stash of pills before I ran away from the CAL. I’m not sure what’s in there, but I can go fetch it.”

“Yes, please, Jenna,” Laura said, nodding.

But instead of going upstairs, Jenna simply stood at the foot of the stairs and yelled up, “Lucky! When you come down, bring my bag, would you?”

Laughing a little, Laura rolled her eyes and Molly returned the gesture.

“Teenagers,” Laura said.

“Indeed.”

A few minutes later, though, when Lucky appeared, he looked unexpectedly pissed.

“What’s up?” Jenna asked as he thrust her bag at her.

“You’ve been hiding stuff,” Lucky said gruffly.

From the living room, where he’d been taking his turn guarding Joe, Erik looked up. “Hey, Lucky, leave her alone.”

“Shut up, Erik. You don’t know anything about it.” Lucky took a hand from behind his back and waved a box of what looked like protein bars in the air.

Jenna had begun to blush and reached for them. “Why were you going through my stuff, Lucky?”

“You asked me to!” he yelled back, then turned to Molly. “She’s no different from her dad. Hiding stuff when she should be sharing it.”

With a scrape as he pushed his chair back across the floor, Erik yelled, “Don’t be a jerk, Lucky. Apologize. Miss O’Neil, make him apologize.”

“Okay, first of all, everyone stop yelling.” Molly looked in Joe’s direction. He was still sleeping, but God knew how with the racket the teens were creating. “Second of all,” she softened her voice, “Jenna, did you forget you had these?”

Jenna’s eyes were becoming moist. She cleared her throat and looked down at her feet. “No,” she said. “I knew I had them. I was just scared that my dad would come back, and I’d have to run away again.”

As if he was about to challenge her, Lucky opened his mouth, but then Molly saw a flash of guilt as he realized Jenna was telling the truth.

“Sweetheart,” Molly put her hand on Jenna’s shoulder. “Your dad isn’t going to find us here.”

“And even if he did—” Erik had crossed the room and was standing next to his mother. “We wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

Realizing the others were all staring at him, Erik cleared his throat and added, “I mean, we’re supposed to be a family, right? Families stick together, don’t they? We wouldn’t let her just run off?”

“Exactly right,” Molly said, nodding. “Now,” she gestured to Jenna’s porridge. “Finish up your breakfast.”

While the teens ate, Laura and Molly checked Jenna’s bag and discovered a full bottle of antibiotics as well as some painkillers, clothes, and more protein bars.

Pressing the painkillers into Molly’s palm, Laura took the bottle of antibiotics and sighed with relief. “Great. We can treat him.”

“If we want to.” Alex was pulling on his shoes, ready to go hunting with Tommy, but looked up at his wife as he spoke.

“Of course we want to,” Laura said. “Why wouldn’t we?”

“I think what Alex is saying is that we’ve got a limited supply. Right?” Tommy was waiting by the door and looked at Alex for confirmation.

“Right.” Alex stood up, pulling his backpack onto his shoulders. “What if one of us is injured? One of the kids?”

Laura looked at Molly. Molly’s stomach was twisting into a sharp painful knot; the thought of one of the teens getting sick and not being able to help them made her feel nauseated, but if they withheld medication, how were they any different from Diego?

Shaking her head, Molly said firmly, “No. We can’t think like that. If he needs the medication, we give it to him. It’s not our last bottle. We have another.”

As Laura nodded in relief, Alex shrugged and headed for the door. “If you’re sure,” he said.

Molly paused, then inhaled deeply, annoyed with herself for even questioning it. “Yes, I’m sure. Diego refused Lucky help when he was sick because he was keeping medicine for himself. I am not going to do that to someone else.”

Silently, Alex looked at Laura, then at Joe, then stalked out of the room.

“Ignore him.” Laura tucked the antibiotic bottle between her legs and headed over to Joe. “He’s like a bear with a toothache at the moment.”

Molly tried to smile. Alex was being grumpy, but somewhere deep in her belly she understood what he was feeling. If giving Joe the antibiotics was the right thing to do, why was it such a difficult decision to make?

* * *

While Joe slept, both guarded and nursed by Laura, and Alex and Tommy went off hunting, Molly headed outside to find the others. Starting at the front of the cabin, she found Colton directing them to gather plant debris from the immediate area and sort it by size: kindling, small, medium, and large. Between them, Erik, Zack, and Jenna were managing to drag the larger branches over to Colton so he could chop them up for firewood. Once chopped, Scarlett and Lucky were transporting the logs to the basement hatch so they could start building up an indoor log store.

“Well, it looks like you guys certainly know what you’re doing,” Molly said, impressed by how quickly things were moving with most of the group focused on one task.

As Colton lowered his arms and breathed out heavily, Jenna offered to take over for a few minutes. “I’ve always wanted to try it,” she said eagerly.

With an ‘okay then’ expression on his face, Colton stepped aside and offered her brief instructions, but Jenna hardly needed them. Barely breaking a sweat, she swung the axe down and split a huge chunk of wood into two pieces. The axe made a satisfying thwack sound as it met the wood, which caused Jenna to grin.

Clapping, Molly grinned at her former student. Despite everything, Jenna was growing in confidence. When they first boarded the bus to Fairfield Prison that day, Jenna had been surly and aggressive. Since leaving her father behind, however, she smiled more. And Molly wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

As she cast a glance at Erik Banks, Molly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and chuckled to herself. Erik was watching Jenna, completely awestruck, and the expression on his face made Molly’s heart swell.

“Even in the darkest of times, teenagers still develop crushes,” Molly said quietly to Colton.

“Huh?” He frowned at her, then followed her gaze and noticed Erik. Laughing, he shook his head, then raised his voice and called, “Hey, Erik, put your tongue back in and get on with your work.”

“Colton….” Molly elbowed him hard as Jenna looked in Erik’s direction and Erik turned away, blushing furiously.

“Sorry,” he said. “Couldn’t resist.”

“Molly?” Scarlett was waving at them from the trees. “I think there’s a well over here.”

“The well!” Molly instantly started over toward Scarlett. “You found it?”

“Sure.” Scarlett shrugged.

“He finally finished it,” Molly said, placing her hands on the sides of the hole.

“Lucky no one fell down it,” Colton said as he approached.

“My grandfather spent years building this,” Molly said. “I didn’t realize he’d ever finished it.”

“Looks like it works.” Scarlett tugged on one of the pulleys. “Ah, but the bucket has a hole in it.” She laughed and peered down into the depths of the well. “Won’t get much water with that, will we?”

“There’s a bucket in the basement,” Molly said. “Want to come with me?”

Scarlett nodded. “Won’t we need something to purify it with? I mean, what if an animal died down there or something?”

As they ascended the steps to the house, Molly laughed. “You’re probably right. I know there’s a filter in the main system, but that’s driven by electricity so….” The two of them exchanged a look. Opening the basement door, Molly instinctively reached for the light, then corrected herself. With the light from the hatch, they didn’t need it anyway.

Downstairs, Molly ran her fingers along the shelves near the steps. “I think Granddad had some testing kits somewhere, to test the quality of the water supply.”

“And what if it’s not good?” Scarlett asked, taking the bucket Molly had passed her.

“I…” Molly paused. She’d spotted something large and shiny. “Well, thank you, Granddad!” She dragged the item out from its hiding place and grinned at Scarlett.

“What is it?” Scarlett asked, frowning. “Looks like a giant kettle.”

“I believe,” Molly said, taking off the lid and peering inside, “that it’s a water filter.”

“But you said the filter was electric.”

Pulling out a sealed packet of unused instructions, Molly waved them at Scarlett. “Not this one.”

Scarlett took the instructions, opened the packet, and angled the leaflet toward the light so she could read. As she ran her finger down the page, her eyes brightened. “Molly, it says here that this will purify up to three thousand gallons of water before the filter needs replacing. That’s a lot, right?”

Trying to recall her and Laura’s calculations from yesterday, Molly tilted her head from side to side. “Not as much as you’d think, but it looks like there are spare filters.”

“Want me to try and set it up?” Scarlett asked.

“Yes. I absolutely do.” Molly smiled and felt some tension drop from her shoulders; perhaps they’d be okay after all.

13

ALEX

“You ever plucked a duck?” Tommy asked as they journeyed back through the woods. Having made it up to the creek, they’d managed to catch three large plump ducks. Looking at the sack on Tommy’s shoulder, Alex wondered whether they should have bothered, since they didn’t have cold storage set up or figured out how to cure anything they did catch. Still, three ducks were better than no ducks; at least they’d eat well tonight.

“Can’t say I have,” Alex replied. “My old man plucked plenty, though. Watched him do it a few times.”

“Was he a hunter?” Tommy asked.

“Yeah. Loved it.” Alex sighed a little. “Always wanted me to join him but it wasn’t really my thing.” He paused and glanced at Tommy. “How about your dad? He hunt?”

Tommy offered an exaggerated shrug. “Never met the guy,” he said. “So I wouldn’t know.”

“Sorry.” Alex shook his head at himself; he should have known that family was a sensitive subject for the Hargrove brothers.

“Don’t be. I’m not. From what I’ve heard, he was an asshole.”

“Was?” Sensing that Tommy was okay with chatting, Alex decided to go with it. If they were going to be stuck out here together for months on end, they might as well get to know one another a bit better.

“Died, I think. Rumor is he overdosed when I was ten. Can’t be sure, though.” Tommy swallowed hard. “Zack was only a few months old at the time.”

“Your mom couldn’t tell you?”

At the mention of his mother, Tommy began to clam up. Breathing in sharply, he changed the subject. “Almost back,” he said, gesturing to the trees ahead. “Home sweet home.”

“Yeah. Home sweet home.”

* * *

As soon as they reached the cabin, they realized something was going on. “Dad!” Scarlett waved him over to what looked like… a well?

“Look what we found,” Erik said proudly, pulling the bucket up and tilting it so everyone could see its contents.

“And I got this working.” Scarlett was standing next to a giant metal cylinder with a black lid and a tap on the front. “It’ll filter the well water. It’s really cool.” Scarlett patted the cylinder’s lid and grinned. “It’s a gravity-based system, no electricity needed. You just pour the water in the top and clean water comes out the bottom.” She laughed and tucked her long dark hair behind her ear; Alex was glad she wasn’t wearing her old dark, heavy makeup anymore. He liked seeing his daughter’s face. “Well, actually, it’s a little more complicated than that, but that’s the gist of it,” she said.

Alex put his arm around Scarlett’s shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “That’s great, Scar, well done.”

“You catch anything?” Zack interrupted, looking from Alex to Tommy.

“We sure did.” As Tommy opened up his bag to show off the ducks, Alex looked around. Everyone was here. Except for his wife.

“Erik, where’s your mom?” Alex asked, tugging his son’s arm.

“Inside watching Joe,” Erik said quickly, far too interested in the ducks to notice the disbelief on Alex’s face.

“You left her inside, alone, with some guy we don’t even know?” As Alex raised his voice, the others stopped talking and looked at him.

“We’ve been in and out,” Molly said gently. “Laura’s fine. Argent’s with her. She’s working on those curtains we talked about and—”

Alex let out a puff of air from his nostrils and ditched his bag on the ground. Stomping up the front steps, he clenched his fists at his sides. Was he the only one who cared about Laura’s safety?

Inside, he found Joe—if that really was his name—still sleeping on the couch. He looked a little less gray around the edges than he had earlier, but didn’t move when Alex started calling Laura’s name.

He was about to head for the bathroom when he saw Laura’s chair. Behind the couch. Right in front of the door that led to the basement.

“Laura?” Alex ran over to it and flung open the basement door. On the other side, Laura was sitting on the top step, reaching for the handle. Next to her, Argent barked when he saw Alex.

“Thank goodness,” Laura said, laughing a little. “I was running out of steam.” She was out of breath, sweating, and her cheeks were flushed, but she was smiling.

“What happened?” Alex stooped down and pulled Laura into his arms. After lifting her into her chair, he put his hands on her knees and stared up at her. “Laura? What happened?” He looked toward the couch as if Joe might have been the one to carry her down there.

Sitting up and gesturing to her back pocket, Laura motioned for Alex to remove its contents—a bottle of pills. “I dropped them,” she said, sitting back and breathing out loudly in the way she did when her back was truly causing her pain.

For a moment, one awful moment, Alex pictured Laura throwing herself down the stairs because she needed the pills. Because she’d been hiding them from him and wanted to get them back. Because she’d pushed herself too hard, and was in too much pain, and couldn’t stay sober any longer.

As if she was reading his mind, Laura sucked in her cheeks and inhaled through her nose. Her nostrils twitched. “They’re Joe’s antibiotics,” she said flatly.

Unable to control himself, Alex stood up and waved at the door. “So, why not have one of the others get them for you? Why put yourself at risk like that?”

“Because I didn’t need their help.” Laura reached for Argent and stroked his neck. As she moved her arm, a flash of red caught Alex’s eye.

“You’re hurt.” He pointed to her arm. “You’ve cut yourself.”

“Have I?” Laura shrugged. “I didn’t notice. I probably caught it on a nail on the stairs.” She paused and caught Alex’s eyes. “It’s not a big deal, Alex.”

“Except it is. It is a big deal.” Alex pulled a chair out from the table and sat down, leaning forward onto his thighs. “Out there, Laura, in the real world—the world we lived in before this madness—it wouldn’t be a big deal. But here, in this place, it is.”

Laura blinked back at him; he could tell she was close to tears and knew he was the cause of it, but it needed to be said.

“There’s no hospital. We have limited medical supplies. What if your cut gets infected? We’ve just given a chunk of our antibiotics to that guy on the couch. What if you broke a bone? Did something to your back? Ended up in so much pain you couldn’t get out of bed? What then?”

“Alex, I—” Laura’s breath had quickened. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

“It’s not safe here, Laura. This is not where I want my family to be.”

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then Laura reached for his hands and squeezed them. “Not every injury will lead to disaster,” she said slowly. “But I’m sorry I wasn’t more careful. You’re right about that. I didn’t think. I did what I’d have done at home, and that was reckless of me. I’ve learned my lesson.” She smiled at him and twitched her arm. “Want to kiss this better for me?”

Alex leaned forward and rested his forehead against his wife’s. She was making light of the situation. For whatever reason, she didn’t want to leave this place. She wanted to be here with the others; maybe she felt safer with more people around. Alex, however, had had just about enough.

He was about to try one more time to persuade her to see things from his point of view when the front door opened. Immediately, Molly flew in and took hold of Laura’s arm.

“What happened?” she asked.

As Laura explained, Alex stood up and walked over to the stove to boil some water. “We need to clean the wound,” he said as Colton stepped up behind him.

“Alex, she’s okay.” Colton put a large hand on Alex’s shoulder. “It’s only a cut.”

“This time,” Alex said loudly, whirling around just as Molly walked over to ask for the water.

“Alex, are you all right?” Molly had stopped next to Colton. She was looking at him with those wide, naïve eyes of hers as if simply willing them to be a happy family and willing the cabin to be habitable would make it so. Until they got here, he’d liked Molly O’Neil. She’d protected the kids, she was smart, feisty, and clearly her heart was in the right place. Out here, though, he was beginning to find her naivety infuriating.

“No, I’m not.” He sighed, rather than getting angry, and rubbed his beard. “This place isn’t suitable for Laura.”

“Alex, please.” From the living room, where she was half checking her own arm and half checking on Joe, Laura called over to him to leave it alone for now.

“Sorry, Laura, but I can’t.” Alex turned back to Molly and Colton. “Tommy and I spotted some empty cabins nearby when we were out hunting today. At least one of them looked like a better fit for us. I want to take my family away from here, Molly.”

As Molly stepped back, looking like she’d been physically slapped in the face, Laura wheeled urgently over to them and reached for Alex’s hand.

“Alex,” she said, “I told you, I want to stay.”

Before Alex could reply, Molly said, “So do we. We want you to stay.” Looking from Alex to Laura and back again, she added, “What can we do to make it better for you? Just tell us and we’ll do it. We were preoccupied today getting the firewood sorted, and the water, and with Joe.” She glanced at the couch, then continued. “But if you tell us what you need, we’ll get it done.”

“See,” Laura said quietly. “It’ll be okay, Alex. Molly and the others will help us adapt things. We just need to give them a chance.”

“Seriously,” Colton said, moving protectively toward Molly. “Whatever you need, Alex.”

Not missing a beat, Alex nodded. “Okay, then, first up we need better access. The stairs are too steep for a ramp, and I don’t want Laura feeling like she’s stuck inside.”

“Would an elevator work?” Colton asked.

At first, Alex thought he was being sarcastic, but Colton’s expression didn’t change. “An elevator?”

“I found rope and a pulley yesterday when we went out scouting—”

“You’re thinking a counterweight system would work?” Alex’s spirits brightened a little.

Colton shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve never constructed one before but—”

“It’d need to be strong enough to carry Laura and the chair. Stabilizing it will be tough. We’d have to—”

“You sound like Erik,” Laura said, smiling as she cut him off.

“I’ll probably need his help,” Alex replied. “But it could work.”

“Okay.” Molly nodded purposefully. “You and Erik should do that. Work on the elevator as long as it takes. What else?”

“The bathroom,” Alex said. “And I don’t think Laura—or anyone, actually—should be left alone with Joe until we know more about him.”

“That, I agree with,” Colton said, scowling as he looked in Joe’s direction.

He and Colton might disagree about some things, but they were both adamant that bringing Joe into their group was a terrible idea.

“I’ll get started, then.” Not even stopping to wash up or rest after the morning’s hunting, Alex headed for the door. It wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted his family out of here, but if Laura was set on staying, then he was going to make sure nothing like this ever happened again. “Erik?” he called, trotting down the steps. “I need your help with something.”

14

ALEX

“So, we attach the pulley here,” Erik said, pointing to the diagram he’d sketched in a matter of seconds.

“Thread the rope through here, and attach the platform at these points here,” Alex finished, aware of the buzzing sensation in the pit of his stomach. A sensation he hadn’t felt in years; ever since Erik became too old to take on projects with his dad and too interested in computers to do anything that didn’t involve a screen.

“Colton’s pulley is pretty big. It should do the job.”

“Maybe someone in a nearby cabin intended to do the same thing at some point,” Alex mused. “Shame we can’t find a ready-made elevator to borrow.”

“Nah,” Erik said, shoving the diagram into his pocket. “Making our own will be way cooler. You think we’ll get it done today?”

“Maybe not today, but we can certainly go out and get some more supplies.” Alex pointed in the direction he and Tommy had gone for their hunting expedition. “There are some abandoned cabins north of here. A couple looked in pretty bad shape. We might find some loose pieces of wood we can use as our platform.”

“We’ll need a railing, too. A frame. To stop Mom sliding off the side.”

Alex half expected Erik to be smiling, but when he looked he discovered his son was being remarkably serious.

“What are we going to use as a counterweight?” Erik asked, biting his lower lip. “And how heavy does it need to be? Do you know?”

Trying to loop his memory back to his own high school physics lessons, Alex narrowed his eyes. He remembered them doing something similar once, but he’d probably been at the back of the class goofing around with his buddy Trevor.

“I guess we need to factor in Mom’s weight and the weight of the chair. Whatever we use as a counterweight can’t be the same,” Erik mused, “or nothing will move.”

“But it can’t be too much lighter either, or Mom will plummet to the ground.” Alex rubbed his forehead as if he might be able to force the memory to the surface.

“Maybe just trial and error, then,” Erik shrugged. “We’ll try something just a little lighter than Mom and the chair and see what happens.”

As they walked through the trees, toward the abandoned cabins, Alex felt himself puff out his chest. A physical gesture he’d never really believed existed until he’d had Erik and Scarlett. And now look at them; they were so smart. Where did that come from? Certainly not him, although his father would have said that if he’d only ‘applied’ himself a little more he could have done great things.

“You know,” Erik said, batting away a stray branch. “Scarlett’s got this idea. She thinks she can use water from the stream to power a water wheel. Maybe even create our own electricity supply.”

Alex’s eyes widened. Anyone else, he’d have said that idea was crazy. His twins, however? Well, if anyone could create electricity from water, it was those two.

“Jenna’s pretty good out here too,” Erik continued. “Colton taught her how to chop wood and she just got it. Just like that. You should have seen her.”

Alex glanced at his son. Erik’s cheeks were flushed, and there was a note in his voice that Alex hadn’t heard before. Did he like Jenna Cruz? The daughter of the guy who’d basically tried to kill off the entire town?

“Colton and Molly are great, aren’t they?” Erik smiled at his dad. “I know you’d rather be back home, and I know you’re worried about Mom. But seriously, Dad, I think we’re in the right place.”

“First cabin’s just up here.” Alex gestured up ahead and shoved his hands into his pockets. He shouldn’t feel resentful toward Molly but, as antiquated as it sounded, she made him feel useless. He was the head of his family, but out here he was in charge of nothing. Decisions weren’t his to make. Tasks weren’t his to allocate. He couldn’t even persuade his own wife to be on Team Alex. Everyone, it seemed, was on Team Molly and everyone wanted the Bankses to stay. Everyone except him.

“Dad?”

Alex had stopped walking but blinked when Erik called him. “Sorry,” he said. “Just thinking about what we need.”

“This one looks in pretty bad shape. You’re sure we shouldn’t try another?” Erik looked at the ramshackle cabin in front of them and wrinkled his nose at it.

“The fact it’s in bad shape is exactly why we should try this one,” Alex replied. “See, there?” He pointed to one of the walls, which had completely fallen in due to—he presumed—storm damage. “The roof has collapsed too, but it’s protecting this section of wall here. Might be some useful pieces of wood or something we can use for the frame.”

Erik’s eyes widened as he understood what Alex was saying. “I’ll see if I can crawl in,” he said, hurrying over.

“Careful.” Alex walked behind him and watched as Erik ducked beneath an overhanging section of roof and disappeared.

“You’re right.” A few minutes later, Erik’s head popped out of a hole farther down the wall. “Some of the original timber is exposed. Colton gave us a crowbar.” Erik gestured to the backpack he’d left on the ground nearby. “We should be able to pry some of these two-by-fours free. There’s enough to make the platform and the frame too, I reckon.”

Clambering in beside his son, Alex took out Colton’s crowbar and began to assess how best to free the wood they needed without risking the building collapsing on top of them.

Eventually, with Erik acting as half-lookout half-cheerleader, Alex managed it. With heavy breaths and rapid heartbeats, they pulled the wood from the building and laid it down outside, then returned to see what else they could find.

“Dad, there’s an old hammock here.” Erik had his head in a closet and when he emerged, he was holding a large piece of fabric. “We can use it to drag the wood back.”

“Good,” Alex nodded. “That’ll work.”

“What about the counterweight?” Erik was looking around as if he might see the perfect object sitting right there in front of them.

“I think logs are going to be best. We can add bigger and smaller ones to make sure the weight’s right.” Alex headed back outside, motioning for Erik to follow.

After heaving their pieces of wood onto the hammock, they were ready to go. Erik looked up at the sky. “I don’t think we’ll have time to finish it tonight,” he said, a little glum.

“First thing tomorrow.” Alex had already started pulling on his half of the hammock.

“Cool,” Erik grinned.

* * *

The next morning, after barely sleeping a wink all night, Alex rose with the sun and went outside to start work on Laura’s elevator.

As he passed the couch, he nodded quietly at Tommy, who’d given his bed to Colton for the night and had taken a split shift with Laura to look after Joe.

Right now, Laura was sleeping. Alex hadn’t been happy about her taking another night shift, especially after they’d agreed no one would be alone with Joe, but she had pointed out that she wasn’t alone—she had Argent—and that she had more chance to catch up on rest during the day than the others.

As had become a habit, Alex hadn’t disagreed with her.

Outside, Alex took a long, deep breath of cool morning air and strained his ears. Birds were starting to sing. It was loud. Louder than he’d ever noticed the dawn chorus being back in town. Around him, the bushes and trees rustled with the sound of animals. More raccoons, probably, maybe a porcupine. He just hoped there weren’t any bears nearby. That really would give them something to worry about.

He’d only just begun cutting the platform and framework to size when Erik stumbled outside, bleary-eyed, but clearly keen to help.

“You started without me?” he said, yawning.

“Sorry, buddy. Wanted to get a good start on the day.”

“Give me a minute. I’ll change and come help.” Erik disappeared back inside and emerged a few minutes later in jeans and a dark green sweater. Not his usual choice of attire, but sensible and suited to their surroundings.

For a good couple of hours, the two of them worked steadily. When they started nailing pieces in place, the others came outside in ones and twos to see what was going on.

By breakfast time, they had finished. With the pulley attached to the side of the cabin and what seemed like an appropriately sized log tied to one end of the rope, Alex threaded the other end through the thick metal loops and stood back as Erik attached it to the platform using the knots Colton had showed them.

If they’d had power tools, they could have made a truly good job of it, but as it was, they hadn’t done badly.

Calling for Laura, Alex pulled the rope and raised the platform to the top of the steps. When she appeared at the top of them, his breath caught in his chest, but he had no idea if it was because he was hoping the system would work or hoping it wouldn’t.

“Is this thing safe?” Laura asked, peering at the platform.

“We’ve tested it with our own weight,” Erik said confidently. “It should be fine.”

“Should be?” Laura laughed nervously. “I’ll hold you to that if I end up in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.”

“Hey, everyone, come see. The elevator’s ready,” Scarlett, who was behind her mother, yelled back toward the cabin, and the others slowly emerged.

With them all gathered at the top of the steps, Alex took a deep breath and told Laura to wheel onto the platform.

“When you get on, it shouldn’t move, not until you release the pulley. Then it’ll lower you down gently,” Erik called from the bottom.

“Here goes,” she said, holding her breath.

As she moved onto the platform, it swayed a little, but it didn’t plummet to the ground. Alex tapped his fingers nervously against his thigh. “Okay, now release the pulley and feed the rope through to lower yourself down.”

Laura nodded and did as she was instructed.

Everyone was watching.

Then, miraculously, it worked. The elevator inched down and down until it met the ground. With whoops and cheers, everyone flew down the stairs to greet her.

Laura was ecstatic, grinning and high-fiving Erik.

“Can I have a go?” Scarlett asked.

“I don’t think you’ll be strong enough to pull yourself up, love,” Laura replied, sounding a little proud of the fact that her years of working out and training were now proving to be extremely useful.

But Scarlett was already on the elevator with Jenna, heaving on the rope to raise themselves up to the top of the stairs.

“I think Laura should be the only one to use the elevator,” Alex said, stepping forward and putting his hand on Laura’s shoulder.

“Oh, Alex, stop being such a spoilsport. Let them have five minutes of fun.” Laura squeezed his hand. “And thank you. It’s wonderful.” She smiled up at him and motioned for him to lean in for a kiss. “Don’t you see, now?”

“See?”

“That we can make it work here,” she said softly.

Meeting her eyes, Alex forced himself to nod. “Sure,” he said. “Sure I do.”

But as he watched the teens trying out his and Erik’s handiwork, he couldn’t help wishing that they hadn’t done quite such a good job. If they hadn’t, maybe Laura would have seen that building an elevator in this place was like putting a band-aid on a bullet wound; it might help at first but, ultimately, it was not sufficient.

15

ZACK

While everyone else began a celebratory breakfast, talking loudly and excitedly about all the other wonderful things they could build now they’d mastered the art of the elevator, Zack loped off into the woods.

He knew he shouldn’t—they’d been told by every single adult in the household not to wander off alone—but with everyone in such high spirits, he was beginning to find it all a little overwhelming.

As he reached the creek, Zack kicked off his shoes and sat down to dangle his toes in the water.

Back home, he’d been a loner. The kid no one wanted to sit near, let alone be friends with. Now he had friends. The others had been pleased when he chose to sleep upstairs with them instead of with Tommy downstairs. Sure, he and Lucky rubbed each other the wrong way sometimes, but he’d still count him as a friend. Someone he didn’t mind being around.

Zack looked down at his toes and wiggled them. He hadn’t thought of his mother much since leaving Fairfield, but when he did, it hit him like a heavy weight pummeling right into his chest. It took his breath away. Lowering his head, trying not to see the disgusting places he and Tommy had been forced to go to when they were searching for her, Zack exhaled slowly. With his eyes to the ground, he frowned. Were those animal tracks?

Pulling his shoes back on, he crouched down and used a stick to poke at a small depression in the ground. Another was beside it. Then another a little way ahead. “Deer,” he muttered, looking up as if he might see one standing right there in front of him.

Of course, all that surrounded him was trees. Nothing else. He started to stand, but then he heard something. A rustling in the undergrowth. He held his breath, wishing he had a gun but also relieved that he didn’t, because he wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to make himself shoot an animal even if he wanted to.

“Zack?” It was Scarlett. He’d know her long dark hair anywhere. Even with cold showers and rationed shampoo, it was shiny. “What are you doing out here?” she asked.

“What are you doing out here?” he repeated. “I thought you were celebrating Erik’s success.”

Scarlett shrugged as she flopped down onto the ground next to him. “Nah. Breakfast’s over. Now it’s chore time,” she said. Then quickly added, “Not that I’m trying to get out of doing any work, I just needed—”

“A minute?” Zack asked, sitting back down beside her.

Scarlett’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Something like that,” she said.

“It’s hard to hear yourself think with so many people in one house.” Zack glanced at her from the corner of his eye as he spoke. He didn’t think they’d ever talked to one another alone before and wasn’t sure whether he was handling it okay or whether he sounded horribly awkward.

“Exactly.” Scarlett looked down and noticed the same mark Zack had noticed. “Ooh,” she said. “What’s this?”

“Deer tracks.” Zack pushed his hair from his face, then hesitantly reached out and traced the shape of the deer’s footprint with his finger. “See?”

“How’d you know it’s a deer?”

Zack tilted his head to the side then chuckled at himself. “Well, the way I remember it is stags have horns, right?”

Scarlett frowned but nodded.

“See these? The shapes look kind of like devil’s horns if you look at them the right way.” Zack shook his head and shrugged. “It’s sounds dumb.”

“It’s not dumb,” Scarlett countered. “It’s cool. What other tracks do you know?”

For a second, Zack studied Scarlett’s face. After years of being one of the most unpopular kids in school, his instinct was that everyone was making fun of him whenever they showed even the slightest interest in him. Scarlett’s expression, however, was open and genuine.

“Okay, so….” Zack searched for a twig he could use to scratch markings in the dirt. “These would be raccoon. They look almost like little handprints.” He looked up to make sure Scarlett was still paying attention. “These would be rabbit, big hind feet out in front and little forefeet behind.”

Scarlett nodded.

“And these,” Zack grimaced as he drew two more prints. “These would be bear.”

“Are there bears around here?” Scarlett looked more intrigued than worried. “I mean, I know they go into town occasionally so I guess there must be some around here somewhere.” She swallowed hard. “Maybe the first thing I’ll wire up when I’ve got our electric water wheel working is a bear alarm.”

“Electric water wheel?” Zack raised his knees to his chest and looped his arms around them. Breathing out slowly, he made an ‘I’m impressed’ face.

Scarlett smiled and pointed back at Zack’s drawings. “How’d you know so much about this stuff? You don’t strike me as the outdoors type.”

As Zack recoiled a little at her comment, Scarlett shook her head and put her hand on his arm. The contact made him flinch. Her skin was warm and soft.

“No, no. I mean, neither am I,” she said. “I wasn’t poking fun or anything.”

After a pause, in which he considered whether or not to continue their conversation, Zack eventually answered her. “I read a lot. I like adventure stuff. Got some books from the library.”

“The only books I ever read were eBooks,” Scarlett said. “Mostly tech stuff.”

“You must feel a bit lost without your computer.” Zack stood up and offered Scarlett his hand.

“You could say that.” Gesturing to the ground, she added, “Want to keep looking for animals?”

Zack looked back in the direction of the cabin, then at Scarlett. Screw chores. They could wait a few more minutes. “Sure,” he said.

After a while, having found nothing but some rabbit droppings and a bird’s nest that had fallen from a tree, they stopped and sat down again.

“You miss the library?” Scarlett asked.

Zack thought for a moment, then said, “Yeah, I guess I do. I used to go there a lot after Tommy went away. Whenever I needed to get away from Mom and one of her boyfriends.”

Looking at Scarlett, Zack expected to see her giving him a look full of pity. Instead, she simply nodded.

“I don’t know what that’s like,” she said. “But things were pretty rough after my mom’s car accident. So, I get wanting to be someplace that isn’t home.” Grimacing, she added, “I kind of turned into a dick for a while. I feel bad about it now. I didn’t exactly make things easier for my parents.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Zack nudged her. “Some of your antics are legendary. Well, you and your brother.”

At that, Scarlett laughed. A real belly laugh that caused Zack to blush; he’d never made a girl laugh like that before.

“Seriously,” he said. “I wish I had half your skill.”

“Skill?” Scarlett scoffed. “My skills are pretty useless now, aren’t they?”

Zack tilted his head from side to side. “Maybe,” he said. Then his eyes brightened. “Hey, maybe, one day, we can sneak back to town and visit the library. I’m sure no one’s been clamoring to take out books in the middle of all this. You could find a new skill.”

“If only,” Scarlett smiled. “But I think we’re stuck out here for a while.”

“In that case, maybe I should just teach you all I know about animal tracks?” Zack stood up and pulled Scarlett to her feet beside him.

For a few minutes, they walked side by side without talking, until Scarlett stopped and waved excitedly at a nearby patch of ground. “Zack! That one looks like a tiny person!”

“A tiny person?” Zack frowned, then bit back a laugh.

“What?” Scarlett asked, hands on hips. “What’s so funny.”

“That’s not a tiny person, Scarlett. That’s a skunk.”

“Oh.” Scarlett chewed her lower lip, then looked at Zack, grabbed his hand, and ran off into the bushes. “Then we’d better hurry back,” she yelled. “I don’t want to end up covered in skunk stink.”

16

MOLLY

“That elevator is seriously cool.” Jenna pulled a box from the shelf in the basement and opened the lid.

Next to her, Molly nodded in agreement. “It sure is.”

“You think Mrs. Banks will be happier here now?” Jenna crouched down and peered into the box. “This one looks like camping equipment. Some pans and candles.” She pushed the box over to Molly then returned to the shelf for another.

“I hope so,” Molly said, putting the candles in a pile alongside two old oil lamps and some damp matches. “But to be honest, I think it’s Mr. Banks who’s struggling the most with all this.”

“I get that,” Jenna said. “He wants to keep his family safe.”

As Molly nodded, Jenna reached for another box. Lowering it to the floor, she tapped the lid and said, “This one says For Molly.”

Molly’s breath caught in her chest. “It does?” She pulled the box toward her and peered at it; Jenna was right. There, on top, was her name in her grandfather’s handwriting.

“You want me to leave?” Jenna looked toward the stairs. “While you open it?”

Molly shook her head. “No,” she said softly. “It’s fine, Jenna. You can stay.”

Opening the box, Molly put her hand inside and took out a square leather-bound photo album. She tucked her index finger inside the cover and was about to open it when she stopped herself. Since this whole thing started, she’d done her best not to think about her family. Being in the cabin, she couldn’t help thinking about her grandparents but—in a way—that was okay because they were already gone. Her parents and her brother, however, were alive. Alive and hundreds of miles away. Had they thought about her? Had they considered coming to find her? Probably not, and maybe she should just be okay with that. After all, she hadn’t contemplated going to find them either. Whether she was okay with it or not, she wasn’t ready to look at their faces just yet.

“Ah, and my books.” Molly’s lips twitched into a smile, the tears in her eyes drying up as she pulled out a small stack of books which had been in her room here as a child, and set aside the photo album.

“The Ballet Shoes books,” Jenna said, smiling to herself. “I loved these.”

Not saying out loud that she’d never pictured Jenna as the ‘ballet shoes’ type, Molly pressed the books into her hands. “You can borrow them, if you like. Some winter reading for you.”

Jenna’s eyes widened. “Really? Thanks, Molly.” After a pause, in which she stroked the front cover of the first book in her pile, Jenna said quietly, “Why are you so nice to me?”

Molly sat back on her heels and put her hand on Jenna’s arm. “Because you’re a good kid and because I like you.”

When Jenna looked up, her eyes were different; a little sad. “You know, even my own dad never said that to me.”

“Your dad’s a difficult person to understand, Jenna, but I think he loves you in his own way.” Molly wasn’t sure she believed what she was saying, but she said it anyway--for Jenna.

“Do you think he’ll find us here?” Jenna asked bluntly.

After finding her stash of protein bars, Molly had realized how worried Jenna was, but had hoped it was something that would have started to subside now that they were getting settled.

“No, I don’t think he’ll find us here.”

“Even with Joe here?” Jenna lowered her voice and looked toward the stairs.

At that, Molly furrowed her brow and made a pfft sound. “Colton and Alex are all bluster. How could an injured stranger lead your father to us? No one even knows Joe is here.”

Jenna nodded slowly but she was rubbing her wrist. The one that had bruises on it back in the CAL.

“Listen.” Molly took Jenna’s hand in hers and squeezed it gently. She had never spoken about what her father had done to her physically—had never mentioned the bruises on her arms or her face—but Molly knew one day she would need to. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Jenna. None of us will. There are a lot—a heck of a lot—of people who care about you in this house. Plus a big toothy dog. No one’s getting past our defenses. Trust me.”

At that, Jenna smiled and, to Molly’s surprise, folded herself in toward Molly’s shoulder. Wrapping her arm around Jenna, Molly pulled her closer and the two of them stayed that way for several long moments until laughter filtered in through the hatch.

Outside, Erik and Lucky were teasing one another.

Sitting up straighter, Jenna’s ears almost visibly pricked up at the sound but as the noise passed, she stood up and returned to the boxes near the door. “I’ll start taking these up,” she said.

Molly nodded but remained on the floor. As Jenna hurried upstairs, she sighed and rubbed her temples. Jenna had a crush on Erik; that much was obvious. While Molly was pleased that they were getting along, after sharing so much animosity a few months ago, this also worried her.

She couldn’t forbid the teens from forging relationships. It was natural, especially when they were full of hormones and cooped up together. But it also opened up the possibility of problems if things went wrong.

Sighing, Molly stood up and went to fetch the final box from the shelf. This one, she could tell just from the weight of it, contained more books. She’d take it upstairs for everyone to enjoy. Perhaps she’d find her copy of Romeo and Juliet and leave it on top of the stack as a subtle warning.

As the thought crossed her mind, she rolled her eyes at herself; like any of them would be tempted to read Romeo and Juliet. Even if it did contain important life lessons about the dangers of teenage infatuation.

As Molly carried the box toward the stairs, she tried to remember what else might be inside. The Hunger Games? She very much hoped their situation wouldn’t descend that far into anarchy. She paused as she reached the bottom step. Balancing the box on her knee, she pried open the lid and breathed in sharply. There it was. How had she forgotten about it? The book that had shaped her childhood more than any other.

Reaching in, Molly traced her index finger over its cover. It felt more like a long-lost friend than an inanimate object. My Side of the Mountain. She smiled. It had been her brother’s book. Gifted to him by their grandfather one summer when Peter was refusing point-blank to even look at a book let alone read one. Of course, Peter had never read it. It had become simply a convenient excuse to get him out of doing chores. “Do you mind if I go read for a while instead of chop the wood, Grandpa? I’m really enjoying that book you gave me.”

Molly had never quite figured out whether her grandparents believed in Peter’s sudden love of reading, but they’d never questioned it. As Molly looked at the cover, she vividly remembered sneaking over to her brother’s bed when he was asleep, flashlight in hand, borrowing the book and reading it under her covers until the sun came up.

That book had given her so much. It had soothed her fears of the darkness. It had whisked her away into a different world. It had enthralled her and comforted her. Picking it up, Molly pressed the book to her chest, then tucked it under her arm. This one was too precious to share.

As she walked up the stairs, Molly smiled to herself. My Side of the Mountain would be her reward; when the cabin was winterized and they were prepared to hunker down in the snow, she’d allow herself an entire day to read by the fire. An entire day to pretend she was on holiday in her little cabin in the woods and to remember her grandparents.

For now, though, there was still a lot of work to do.

17

JENNA

After her chat with Molly, all Jenna really wanted to do was retreat upstairs and read. She knew it didn’t seem like something she’d be into. She was on the wrestling team, she liked working out, and she was probably a little rough around the edges. She also knew that the others—especially Lucky—would poke fun at her if they saw her reading books about ballet, but she didn’t particularly care.

She’d read those books when she was little. The first and second in the series were the only things of her mother’s that had remained in the house after she left, and Jenna had read them more times than she could count. Having them here now felt like a sign. A little slice of comfort.

But she couldn’t disappear in the middle of the day to read; they weren’t on vacation.

“I’ll go chop some wood,” she said as she walked through the living room.

Looking up from her wheelchair, Laura Banks nodded at her. “Okay, dear.”

Jenna paused in the doorway. “How is he?” She gestured to the man on the couch. Joe.

“A little better, I think. The antibiotics seem to be helping.” Mrs. Banks looked toward the door. “If you see Tommy and Alex out there, love, would you ask them to come in here? I’d like to suggest moving Joe into one of the bedrooms. I think he’d get more rest out of everyone’s way.”

Jenna nodded. She wasn’t sure what she thought about giving a stranger an entire room to himself, but she didn’t say so.

Outside, she passed on the message to Mr. Banks and Tommy, then watched as they walked up the stairs, Mr. Banks giving his elevator an appraising glance as he passed it.

Picking up the ax Colton had shown her how to use, Jenna began to chop. It was boring, but a good workout, and she seemed to have mastered the art of it. Plus, it helped that she already had calluses on her hands from all the work her dad made her do in CAL, so she wasn’t worried about blisters. She’d had worse. She’d worked up a sweat and was getting into her stride when she felt someone watching her.

“Erik?” She stopped and lowered her arms. They were burning from the effort of the task. “Well, don’t just stand there watching.” She was probably blushing but was too pink in the face for him to have noticed. “Do something useful.” She pointed to the spare ax.

Tentatively, Erik weighed the ax up and down in his hands. “How do I—”

Jenna rolled her eyes at him, but as she looked away, she smiled. “Just watch what I’m doing and copy me,” she said, but after just one swing, Erik huffed and puffed and looked like he was going to give up.

“Okay, no, like this.” Jenna strode over and took the ax from him, then repositioned it in his hands and showed him how to bring it down in order to split the wood cleanly. “Really, you’re far too skinny for this,” she said, moving back to her own block. “You need to build up your muscles if you’re going to be doing this level of work. No more computers for you to tinker with.” She was aware she was being prickly, but wasn’t sure how else to interact with someone she’d barely exchanged a kind word with until a few weeks ago.

As she glanced at him, she realized Erik was blushing. “You’re right,” he said. “Not a lot of physical strength needed for computers.”

“Mental strength, though,” she said, trying to soften her rudeness. “For being a hacker, you need plenty of brain power, right?”

“A hacker,” Erik laughed, grunting loudly as he brought the ax down onto the wood. “I wouldn’t exactly call myself a hacker.”

“What else do you call it when you break into the principal’s files and change your own grades?” Jenna raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, okay, maybe I hacked a little.” Erik made a stern face and gripped his ax a little harder. “But now I whack!” He broke another piece of wood in two, then looked at Jenna.

“That was a terrible joke!” she snorted as she laughed and clapped a hand to her mouth, causing Erik to laugh back.

“I know,” he said. “Sorry.”

Returning to their tasks, still buoyed by the laughter between them, they settled into a companionable silence. Erik was the first to stop chopping. Wiping his sleeve over his damp forehead, he breathed out loudly and leaned forward onto his knees. When he looked up, Jenna frowned at him.

“Why’d you come out here?” she asked. “You just got the sudden urge to chop wood?”

Erik straightened himself up and scuffed the earth with the toe of his shoe. “I was hoping,” he said quietly, “that you might teach me to fight?”

Jenna opened her mouth and closed it again. Her instinct was to say no, but somehow she found herself saying, “Okay, but not here.”

“Where?” Erik’s eyes had brightened.

“This way.” Jenna put down her ax and gestured to a small clearing away from the cabin, where no one would see them and come stomping over to tell them they should be doing something else.

Barely skipping a beat, she parted her feet and raised her fists. “Okay, so this is your basic boxing stance,” she said. “Copy me.”

Erik hesitated. He really was scrawny. Then he raised his arms.

“Good.” Jenna smiled. “This could be fun.”

* * *

Half an hour later, as Erik flopped down onto the ground, Jenna leaned against a nearby tree and grinned at him. “Not bad, Banks,” she said. “By the end there, you were getting better. Definitely.”

Erik rolled his eyes at her. “Yeah, right. It’ll take more than one half-hour practice to get me fight ready.”

Jenna laughed. She wished she had a bottle of water at hand; her mouth was parched.

“Who taught you to fight?” Erik bounced to his feet.

“My dad,” Jenna replied quickly. Clearing her throat and looking away, she added, “He wanted a boy. Said he was stuck with me so he might as well make the best of it.” She shrugged and looked down at herself. “Guess that’s how I ended up like this.”

“That’s BS,” Erik said emphatically. “Total BS.”

Jenna blushed and looked away.

As they started back toward the cabin, Erik said, “Why’d you leave him? I mean, why’d you run away to join up with us?”

Jenna pressed her lips together. She’d never spoken to anyone about her father. Not at length, anyway. The most she’d said was to Molly and, even then, she didn’t go into details. “Things with him were always difficult. I never measured up to his expectations. No matter what I did, I wasn’t what he wanted me to be.” Jenna wrinkled her nose and tucked her short hair behind her ear. “Plus, he’s just not a very nice person, really.”

As Erik chuckled, he nodded. “I get that. Not the ‘nice person’ bit. My parents are nice. I just get the expectations part.”

“You do?” Jenna looked sideways at him.

“Sure. After Mom’s accident, Scarlett kind of fell apart and it was like everyone expected me to hold it together. Be the strong one. You know?”

Jenna nodded quietly. “Things look good between you now, though?” They’d reached the cabin and Jenna pointed at the elevator Erik and his dad had made. “I’d love to have that kind of relationship with my dad.”

Erik nodded. “Sure,” he said. “Things are definitely better now. Not perfect, but better.”

They were at the steps to the cabin when they stopped. Jenna gestured to the wood piles. “If you want to be a good fighter, you’ll have to build up your muscles.”

Erik raised his eyebrows. “Let me guess. That means a lot more wood chopping?”

“I’m afraid so,” she said.

Gently, Erik nudged her with his elbow. “You just want someone to do your hard work for you, don’t you?”

“You know what?” she said, allowing a broad smile to cross her face. “Maybe I do.”

18

JOE

Joe woke from a fitful dream—thunk, smash, screaming—to find himself in a completely different room. A bedroom. Wherever he’d been before had been noisy. People coming in and out all the time. It had reminded him of the sounds he’d hear when trying to sleep at night back at Fairfield. Chatter. Comings and goings. Movement. Never still. Never quiet.

Here, this new room, was different. He was in a bed covered in old-fashioned sheets. A patchwork quilt and a hard mattress. Next to the bed, to the right, was a window. He loved windows. After three years without one, when they finally left Fairfield, the first house they’d squatted in, he’d chosen a spot right next to a window to sleep. Waking up to see light and leaves had made him smile.

This window framed a cluster of thick, dark-leafed trees and a snippet of blue sky. Now, though, in the middle of the night, all it captured was darkness.

Next to him, a woman with strawberry-blonde hair had fallen asleep in a chair. He recognized her but he couldn’t remember her name, so he watched her for a while, trying to recall what it was. Her breath moved slowly in and out. He examined her face. Pale skin, a rash of freckles on the bridge of her nose. Her presence was calming.

As he moved, his leg stung and the scene in the woods flashed before his eyes. Flashlights through the trees, running, gunshots. He rubbed the back of his neck and heard it pop.

What had happened to the others?

What had happened to the men who’d been chasing them?

Shuddering a little, he pulled the quilt closer, up to his chin. When the sleeping woman had asked what happened to him, he had told her he couldn’t remember, but how long would she and the others accept that as an answer?

If it was him, if he’d made it to the cabin Jim mentioned up in Fullers Woods and some stranger with a gunshot wound had turned up on their doorstep, would they have let that person in? Helped them? Given them medicine?

He tried to tell himself they would, but couldn’t quite make himself believe it.

Joe glanced at the bottle of pills on the table beside the bed. Antibiotics. No wonder he’d been feeling so bad; his wound must have gotten infected.

Easing his legs around to the opposite side of the bed, he pressed his feet to the floor and took a moment to adjust to the cool sensation of wood on his soles. When he got up, he wobbled a little, but righted himself and used the wall to help himself over to the window.

It was closed to keep out the cold that had started creeping in, but he desperately wanted to feel the air on his face. It had been days. Hadn’t it?

He’d pushed the window open, just a fraction, and was leaning with his forehead against it when he heard something move behind him.

“Joe? What are you doing?”

When he turned, the strawberry-blonde was staring at him. Her hand twitched at her side; she had a gun. He hadn’t seen it but he knew it was there, and he knew she was prepared to pull it on him if necessary.

“Nothing,” he said croakily, pulling the window closed. “I’m sorry, I just needed some air.”

The woman yawned, involuntarily putting a hand over her mouth and instantly losing the demeanor of someone about to draw a weapon.

“You look tired,” he said, moving back toward the bed. “I’ll be okay on my own if you want to go get some sleep.”

“You’ve been pretty sick,” she replied, returning to her chair but avoiding his gaze. His health wasn’t the reason they were watching over him. Not the only reason, anyway. They were afraid of him, and who could blame them?

“It’s probably time for some more painkillers,” she said, getting up. “I’ll go fetch them.”

“I feel okay,” he said, leaning against the headboard.

“I’ll fetch them anyway,” she said. “And I’ll see if Colton’s ready to swap shifts.”

“Colton?”

“Big guy, Marine, acts like one,” the woman said.

Joe nodded. “And your name?” he asked quietly, looking at his hands instead of at her.

“Molly,” she said.

When he looked up, she was extending her hand to shake his.

“My name’s Molly.”

“Joe,” he said, even though he was sure she knew that already. Then he cleared his throat and added, “Why are you being so nice to me? All of you? I don’t understand.”

“Because you needed help,” Molly said, her forehead creasing as if that should have been obvious.

“But you don’t know anything about me.” Joe met her eyes. She looked like the sort of person who’d listen if he told her the truth. Yes, she seemed tough, but she also seemed kind.

“Well, I know you would have probably died if the boys hadn’t rescued you.”

“Still, a lot of folks wouldn’t have cared. They’d have left me out there. Looked after themselves, now that things are—” He paused and smiled tentatively.

“Upside down?” she asked, smiling too.

“Something like that.” Joe pushed his hair from his eyes and after a pause said, “Maybe tomorrow I could use your washroom? I feel like I slept in a ditch.”

At that, she laughed. A warm chuckle of a laugh that made him feel something in the pit of his stomach. What was it? Pride? Pride that he’d made a pretty girl laugh?

“You definitely should use the washroom tomorrow,” she said, getting up from her chair and yawning again. “Now I’ll go get those painkillers. Are you hungry? I could bring you something. A midnight snack?”

“Is it only midnight?” Joe glanced toward the window.

Molly shrugged. “Who the heck knows?” She waggled her wrist at him and tapped the spot where a watch should have been. “It’s all sundials and reading the stars these days, and I’m no good at either of those.” She paused at the door. “Colton is, though. I’ll ask him.”

As Molly closed the door behind her, Joe sank back onto his pillow and looked up at the ceiling. For a moment, he held his breath tightly in his chest, but then—in a whoosh that made his head spin—he released it. Relaxing his hands, which had been clutching the bedsheets, he closed his eyes. For the first time in weeks, perhaps even years, he felt at ease. Safe. Perhaps finding these people hadn’t been an accident. Maybe it was the chance he needed to have a fresh start. To finally escape his past.

19

VICTOR

Right up until the moment they walked into Diego’s wretched bunker, Victor was feeling confident. Since their last meeting, he’d upped his game. He’d made more of an effort to look for the girl and coincidentally happened across a few more runaway prisoners on route.

However, when he saw Diego, pacing up and down, hands tightly clenched together behind his back, his bravado faded.

“Mr. Fox.” Diego stopped walking and looked Victor up and down.

The way Diego’s eyes lingered on Victor’s throat made his butt clench, and he was pretty sure he’d started to sweat. “Diego,” he said, calmly, trying to smile. “How have you been?”

At that, Diego tilted his head sideways in a jerky birdlike motion. “How have I been?” he repeated, looking past Victor to the armed guards who stood behind him. “Oh, just fine, but I hear you haven’t been doing too well.”

“Me?” Victor frowned. Where was he going with this?

“You’ve been having problems with your ears, haven’t you?”

“My ears?” Victor tugged at his earlobe. “My ears are just fine.”

“Then could you please explain to me…” Diego paused, took a deep breath, then began to yell. “WHY ARE YOU STILL LOOKING FOR PRISONERS INSTEAD OF MY DAUGHTER?”

Victor took a step back but was quickly met by the end of a shotgun in his back and jolted forward again.

With his face inches away, Diego continued. “The only reason I can think of is that your ears are broken, or perhaps it’s your memory, because I distinctly remember standing in this very spot and telling you that if you wanted my help it was time you started keeping up your end of the bargain.”

Victor opened his mouth to speak but Diego pressed his index finger hard against Victor’s lips.

“I told you to find my daughter. I made it very clear. Crystal clear.”

Victor nodded shakily. If Diego would only let him explain.

“But then I hear that you’ve spent the last three days doing exactly what I told you not to—capturing convicts and starving them to death.”

“That’s not entirely accurate,” Victor finally managed to say. “I’m withholding food so they’ll talk. I thought they might have information about the girl.” As he said ‘girl’, Diego’s eyes widened so he corrected himself. “Your daughter. Jenna.”

“Why exactly would a prisoner who’s been running around in the woods for the past few weeks know where my daughter is?”

“Well, I—”

Victor’s tongue had become thick and heavy in his mouth. As he’d been doing it—exactly the opposite of what Diego had told him to do—he’d convinced himself that he could explain it away, but clearly neither Diego nor his men were falling for it.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully now.” Diego was so close that Victor could smell the stale cigarette smoke on his breath. “I want my daughter back and there will be no more resources from me until you find her.”

As Diego spoke, a jolt of indignation gripped Victor’s belly. “No more…? But you promised—”

“I promised you a quid pro quo. So far, you’ve given me nothing. Until you do, no more backup.” Diego gestured for the guards to back away and they moved as one into the corner of the room, still staring at Victor, most of them smirking.

“But you’re her father! If you don’t know where she’s hiding, how am I supposed to figure it out?”

As Victor waved his arms and squared up to Diego, one of the guards let out a low Ooooooh and another laughed loudly, biting his knuckles and grinning.

For a moment, Diego smiled. Then he laughed. He put his hand on Victor’s shoulder and Victor relaxed a little. He sees the funny side. He’s a reasonable man.

Then Diego’s face changed. His grip tightened. “My daughter is a devious, sneaky little girl. She never respected me. Certainly not enough to share her secrets.” Diego wasn’t letting go.

“So, then why do you want her back?” Victor whispered.

“Because she’s mine.” Diego gritted his teeth and pointed to a photograph on the wall. A photograph of him standing behind Jenna with his hands on her shoulders. He was smiling but she wasn’t. “She’s mine. She leaves when I say she can leave.” He let go of Victor, gave him a gentle pat, then stood back. “So, you find her. You keep looking and you don’t stop until you’ve found her. When you bring her back to me, we’ll have a chat about what resources I can lend you. Depending on how quickly you do your job.”

Victor began to nod slowly but before he could speak, Diego reached out his palms and shoved him. Hard. He stumbled backward toward the door.

“What are you waiting for?” Diego shoved him again, and again. When he reached the doorway, Diego gave one last shove and he tumbled onto the ground outside. Towering above him, hands on hips, Diego stared down at him. “Find my daughter, Mr. Fox, or you will be the next one locked up in a cage.”

20

LUCKY

Joe The Weirdo, as Lucky had nicknamed him, had been in their cabin three days. Two nights, and three days, and he still wasn’t fully conscious. Molly said he’d spoken to her last night, but after that he’d fallen asleep again and the whole time Lucky had been babysitting him—since breakfast—he hadn’t stirred. Which was both boring and irritating in equal measures.

Lucky felt a little bit sorry for the guy, of course he did; he’d been in a similar situation when he’d injured his hand. At the same time, though, Lucky was pretty sure they should have cut him loose as soon as they’d realized his leg wound was caused by a bullet,

Maybe he’d been dumb for going along with Zack. Maybe he should have sided with Tommy and insisted they leave him in the ditch where they found him.

Still, it was too late now. Joe was set up in the room that had been Tommy’s for all of one night, and they were still taking shifts looking after him.

During the day, however, these shifts primarily fell to him and Laura. A fact that was beginning to grate on Lucky.

“I can be useful,” he said, stalking out of Joe’s room as he switched places with Colton.

“I know you can,” Molly replied. She was walking ahead of him, sipping her one allotted cup of coffee for the day.

“Then let me do something,” he whined.

In the kitchen, Molly stopped and put down her mug. Looking over Lucky’s head at Laura Banks, she said, “Laura? Remind me what Dr. Chase said about Lucky’s hand?”

“He said Lucky should do minimal physical activity with it for at least eight weeks.”

“And how many weeks has it been?” Molly asked.

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Lucky rolled his eyes at the pair of them and sat down hard in a nearby chair. Despite everyone saying it was because of his hand, Lucky had the creeping sense that it was more than that; he was the youngest, he’d lost his parents, they all felt sorry for him. He got that, but they shouldn’t be protecting him. He should be pulling his weight.

“Jenna? Tommy?” Molly waved as they entered the room from outside. “You’re done with the wood?”

“For now. We need to cut down a few more trees, I think,” Jenna said.

“Could you go take a look around the back of the cabin?” Molly was looking at a list she’d made in the notebook she carried around with her. “There are some trees back there I think are a bit too close. In a storm, they could be dangerous, but I’m not sure. See what you think.”

“I’ll go,” Lucky said, moving to get up from the table.

“Lucky, you’re on shift again soon with Joe.” Molly handed him a glass of water and nodded for him to drink it.

“But that’s ridiculous.” Lucky banged his glass down on the table. “They’re only looking at the trees. I can look too! There’s nothing wrong with my eyes.”

“Jenna and Tommy have experience, you don’t.” Molly softened her voice, like she was speaking to a child, and sat down opposite him.

“Experience cutting down trees?”

“Dude, Jenna’s dad was a volunteer firefighter. They did this kind of thing all the time around the neighborhood, you know that.” Tommy was leaning casually against the doorframe and looking at Lucky as if he was being nothing but petulant.

“And you? What do you know about trees?” Lucky couldn’t help himself. He was pissed and he wasn’t going to pretend otherwise.

“I did timber yard duty in prison.” Tommy stood up and scowled in Lucky’s direction.

Lucky looked away. “Whatever,” he muttered. Pushing his chair back, he stood up. “I’ll go switch with Colton again,” he said, walking deliberately loudly back across the room.

“Tell him there’s some coffee out here if he wants it,” Molly called after him, but Lucky wasn’t listening.

Instead of going into Joe’s room, Lucky waited in the hall. When it didn’t seem like anyone was following him, he slipped into Molly’s room. Averting his eyes from her neatly made bed, he rushed over to the window and pried it open. On this side of the house, the window opened onto a pretty big drop down to the ground, but Lucky didn’t care. Using his good arm to lever himself out, he jumped and miraculously landed on two feet.

He paused, waiting for someone to yell at him, but no one did. A little way away, he could hear Jenna and Tommy. Following their voices, Lucky located them standing beneath a tree, pointing up at it as if they were trying to decide whether to chop it down. It looked close enough to the cabin that it might cause a problem. They were nodding.

“I’ll go fetch it,” Tommy said.

Although Lucky had missed what they were talking about, it was obvious they were planning to cut down the tree. They’d brought their axes.

“I’ll come,” Jenna said, jogging after him.

As they disappeared, a steely determination settled in Lucky’s belly; he’d show them. He’d show them all just how useful he could be.

Picking up one of the axes, he weighed it up and down in his hands. It was heavier than he expected, but he couldn’t back out now. He needed to show them what he was made of.

With a slightly shaking arm, Lucky raised the ax above his head, examined the tree trunk, then swung the ax into it. He expected it to sink in, to hear a satisfying thunk. Instead, it bounced right off. The motion jolted his shoulder and he growled in pain as his hand started to throb.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he muttered, lifting the ax for a second time.

This time he brought the ax to his shoulder as if it was a baseball bat, and when he brought it down it went in lower than it had the first time. It didn’t look the way he’d seen it in movies. It didn’t sound the way he expected it to either, but as he took a third strike at the trunk, it seemed to be working.

With sweaty hands and trembling arms, Lucky attacked the tree with gusto. “I’ll…show…them…” he panted. Thunk, thunk, thunk. He must be doing something right; he was creating a huge cloud of dust and little pieces of tree were breaking off and flying through the air.

Lucky stopped, flexed his fingers, and readjusted his hand on the ax. He was panting and leaned against the tree for a moment while he attempted to regather his strength.

He was about to start chopping again when he heard Jenna shout, “Lucky, stop!”

“I don’t think so.” Turning away from the sound of her voice, Lucky redoubled his efforts. He was nearly done. No way was he going to let Jenna and Tommy storm in and take the credit for his hard work. Suddenly, the tree made a creaking noise.

“Lucky!” It was Tommy’s voice this time, but it was too late.

The tree was falling.

21

LAURA

After a quick lunch break, Laura switched places with Colton. While Lucky seemed reluctant to be assigned to babysitting duty, Laura didn’t mind it. Back at the CAL, she’d gotten good at helping people and—even though they knew next to nothing about Joe—watching over him made her feel like she was doing something useful. She might not be able to chop wood, because the angle from her chair made it almost impossible to get enough swing on the ax and would have left her in pain for days afterwards, but she could look after someone who was sick.

“You’re awake,” she said as she wheeled into the room.

Joe smiled at her, but it wasn’t a happy smile. With his eyes darting toward the door every few seconds, he looked like he was trying to figure out whether he could run far on his injured leg.

“Everything all right?” she asked, maneuvering her chair so she was next to the bed.

“Fine,” he said, then shrugged. “I don’t think the big guy likes me too much.”

“Colton? Oh, he doesn’t like anyone too much at first. He’ll warm up, though. Don’t worry.” Laura moved the blankets aside and began to remove Joe’s dressing. He was wearing a pair of Alex’s shorts, khaki with a hole in the back pocket. They were his DIY shorts. Joe’s legs were much spindlier than her husband’s; he clearly wasn’t much of a runner.

Without looking up, Laura said gently, “It might help if you told us a little about where you’re from. We had a bit of a difficult time back in Fairfield. We’re kind of edgy.”

As Laura gently touched the skin around what was clearly a bullet wound to make sure it wasn’t still hot, which indicated an infection, Joe flinched. “I really don’t remember,” he said.

Laura smiled. “Not anything?” She looked up at him and tilted her head, fixing him with the kind of stare she used to give the twins if they’d been out late and wouldn’t tell her where they’d been or what they’d been doing.

When Joe didn’t reply, Laura was about to go and fetch some hot water to clean and re-dress the wound when she heard someone shout.

“What was—” Her question was drowned out by the sound of an enormous crash above their heads. The window shattered. Bits of ceiling fell on them. Laura lurched forward, grabbed Joe and pulled him to the ground, hurling herself out of her chair and curling her upper body over his unprotected leg wound.

When she looked up, coughing from the dust and splinters, she almost laughed. She would have, if it wasn’t for the searing pain vibrating up her spine and around her ribs.

Another tree?

“What happened?” Joe asked, coughing from the dust in the air.

As Laura pushed herself away from him, she expected him to move too. When he didn’t, she looked up and sucked in a deep sudden breath.

“What is it?” Joe groaned. He was trying to move now but couldn’t because his upper body—his shoulder and arm—was pinned to the floor by a loose tree branch.

“It’s all right,” Laura said, shuffling closer and twisting her torso so she could get a grip on the branch. “I’ve got it.”

“Don’t, you’ll hurt yourself—”

Joe started to object, but Laura had already heaved the branch free and tossed it to one side. “It’s okay,” she said. “It’s really not that heavy.”

Pushing himself up to lean against the side of the bed, Joe rubbed his shoulder and looked down at his leg. “You put yourself in harm’s way for me?”

“If debris got into your wound, it’d be bad news,” Laura said, shoving one trembling hand into her lap while the other brushed hair from her face.

“Still. You did that for me? And then you pulled a branch off me? What are you? Superwoman?” He smiled, the first smile Laura had seen on his face since he arrived, and she laughed.

“Not quite,” she said, still shaking as she shifted beside Joe to rest her back on the side of the bed.

“LAURA!” Alex was outside the door, yelling for her.

“We’re okay!” she called back, staring up at the ceiling. It really was a tree. Finger-like branches had smashed through the window and the ceiling. Fragments of wood from the roof had clattered down onto the bed and the floor. There was debris everywhere.

Outside, Argent was barking, and Alex raised his voice as he said, urgently, “Scarlett, take him! He’s not helping.”

Picturing Argent’s worried eyes, Laura’s heart began to hurt. “I’m okay, boy,” she called. “Mom’s okay.”

A moment later, there was a loud thud at the door. “Laura?” Alex called. “The door won’t open.”

Unable to see the door from where she was sitting, Laura attempted to turn around but winced and breathed in sharply as the movement caused another bolt of pain in her upper back.

“It’s blocked.” Joe had pushed himself up into a sitting position, leaning against the bed and facing the door. “A branch and a bunch of timber from the roof is blocking it.”

When Laura repeated this to Alex, she was met with a loud groan and what she was certain was the sound of a fist slamming into the wall.

“We’ll come in through the roof, Laura,” Colton called. “Hang tight.”

As Laura looked at Joe and nodded reassuringly at him, he swallowed hard. Turning around, he groped for the dressing Laura had removed, but she shook her head.

“Better to leave it open to the air than get dirt in it,” she said, already praying this wouldn’t mean that Joe would need more antibiotics.

Joe nodded, put the dressing back down, and closed his eyes.

Outside, Laura could hear someone yelling. Possibly Jenna. Not Scarlett. “What were you thinking?”

“You must be missing some brain cells!” someone else added. Zack, maybe.

“What’s going on out there?” Joe asked, rubbing the side of his thigh.

Laura shook her head. Again, the movement caused her to wince and when she opened her eyes she realized Joe was staring at her.

“How’d you do it?” he asked.

“A car accident,” she replied, more quickly than she’d expected to.

“Someone…” Joe scraped his fingers through his hair. “Someone hit you?”

“Hit me?” Laura frowned, then realized he was asking if someone had driven into her. “Oh, no. We were driving home from a party. Two cars full of drunk frat boys were racing each other. They overtook us, Alex swerved to get out of the way and lost control of the car.”

Joe breathed out a long sigh and looked away from her.

Her voice had started to waver. “I’m paralyzed from the waist down,” she said as they began to hear scrambling sounds on the roof. “But luckily, I have enough feeling in the rest of my body to enjoy the chronic pain I’ve been left with.” She wasn’t sure why she was telling this to a stranger, but she sensed that she was making Joe uncomfortable.

“Laura?” Alex’s voice sounded like it was almost in the room, but she couldn’t see him. Then there he was—at the window.

“I told you I’m all right,” she said, gesturing to herself as if the fact she didn’t have any visible injuries settled the matter.

“I’m coming in.”

From somewhere outside, Colton shouted, “Be careful. When you get in there, see if you can move the debris away from the door and let me in.”

Holding on to part of the branch that had smashed through the window, Alex wriggled through the gap and swung himself down into the room.

“Be careful,” Laura shouted. “There’s glass everywhere.”

But Alex simply brushed himself off and ran straight to her. “Oh my God,” he breathed, ignoring Joe and taking Laura into his arms as he crouched in front of her.

“I’m okay,” she said, blushing a little as he scooped her up. “Really, Alex.”

Without even stopping to check on Joe, Alex lowered Laura into her chair and said, “I need to clear the door. Wait there.”

As Alex charged to the door and began pulling debris away from it, Laura watched him and—not for the first time—felt a twinge of something deep in the pit of her stomach that made her look away. It was the way she felt when Alex was overcompensating. Treating her as if she was made of glass. As if she couldn’t take care of herself.

With a small path cleared, she shook her head and wheeled over. “I’ll help you move the branch.”

Alex stopped what he was doing and frowned at her. “Laura, I need to check you out first. You could be hurt and not know it.” He glanced at her legs.

“I’m fine. Come on.” Leaning forward, she put her brakes on, then grabbed hold of the branch that was at her arm level and waited for Alex to take the upper half.

“On three,” she said. “One, two, three.”

Together, they heaved the broken pieces of tree away from the door. Seconds later, as Laura bent over and tried to catch her breath, Colton rushed in, closely followed by Argent, who put his paws onto Laura’s knees and sniffed at her face as if he was checking for bruises.

“Everyone okay?” Colton asked, looking at Laura.

Alex grunted, barely giving an answer before stepping behind Laura and pushing her out of the room. As she glanced over her shoulder, she could see Colton offering Joe his arm so he could climb to his feet.

“Alex. I should see if Joe’s—”

“You’re more important,” Alex growled, pushing her into the common area where Scarlett and Erik were waiting with wide worried eyes and pale faces.

As they threw themselves at her, Alex told them to go easy and they eased back a bit, patting her gently instead of squeezing. Argent, however, didn’t get the memo. Once again, he put his paws up into her lap, smothering her face with huge wet kisses.

“Okay, boy, I’m okay,” Laura laughed, leaning away from him.

“Here, drink this.” Alex handed her a bottle of water and gestured for her to drink some. She was in the process of taking two large gulps when Colton brought Joe into the room.

Staggering, Joe made it to the couch and sat down hard.

“I’m going back to survey the damage,” Colton said gruffly before turning back the way he’d come.

For a moment, no one else spoke. Then finally Joe looked at Alex and said, “Mr. Banks, your wife saved my life. I’m very grateful.” He cast a furtive glance at Laura and said, “And she kicked ass moving that tree, huh?”

It was the most animation Laura had seen Joe display since he’d got there, and it made her smile.

“Yeah, Mom, you’re like Lara Croft.”

“If Lara Croft was in one of these,” Laura said, patting Firecracker’s arms.

“If Lara Croft was in one of those she’d be even cooler,” Erik replied. Opposite him, Joe nodded.

But while Scarlett and Erik were grinning with pride and giving her proud thumbs up, Alex was not smiling. His features had set into an angular frown and he was beginning to pace up and down.

“Laura?” The door clattered back on its hinges as Molly ran in from outside. She looked tearful, her face both pale and blotchy at the same time.

“What happened?” Laura asked, shaking her head.

“Lucky happened,” Molly replied tightly. “Are you all right?”

“She’s fine.” Alex stopped pacing and walked over to her, stepping behind her chair. “But I need to check her over.”

“I can—” Molly moved forward but Alex shook his head at her.

He was already pushing Laura out of the room. “No thank you,” he said solemnly.

* * *

In their small timber-walled bedroom, Alex breathed out a long slow sigh and braced his hands behind his head. As he exhaled, Argent looked up at him, then at Laura as if he couldn’t understand why everyone wasn’t simply happy that Laura was okay.

“Alex….” Laura waited until he crouched down in front of her and cupped her husband’s face in her hands. “I’m all right, love.”

Alex blinked hard, then looked down as he clasped her hands between his.

“You can breathe. I’m okay.”

When Alex finally met her eyes, his were moist. Beneath his beard, his cheeks were flushed. “You could have been trapped. You could have been killed,” he whispered.

“But I wasn’t.” Laura sniffed, her own eyes feeling suddenly itchy with tears. “I’m fine. Not sure of the odds of a tree falling on me twice, though. That’s quite impressive, don’t you think?” She was trying to lighten the mood but it wasn’t working.

“It’s not safe here,” Alex muttered. “It’s not safe.”

Laura held out her arms and pulled Alex close to her. “It was just an accident,” she said softly, reaching up to stroke his hair. “I’m okay.”

“You’re okay this time.” Alex swallowed hard. “I can’t lose you, Laura. I almost lost you once. I can’t let that happen again.”

“I—” Laura opened her mouth to speak, but the reassuring words she was looking for didn’t come out. She wanted to tell Alex that nothing like this would happen again, but she couldn’t promise him that, could she?

She didn’t want to believe that he was right; that with fewer people around them they would be better able to control their environment. That they’d be safer. She wanted company. She wanted the twins to be with their friends and to feel a part of something, like she had when she’d helped nurse sick people at the CAL or reunite loved ones. But after such a near miss, she was beginning to wonder whether Alex had been right all along.

What if they really would be better off on their own?

22

MOLLY

As Alex wheeled Laura off into their bedroom, and the twins stared forlornly after them, Molly looked at Joe. He was on the couch, rubbing his shoulder, and he still looked a little feverish.

“Have you had your antibiotics today?” she asked, sitting down beside him.

Joe frowned at her and shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Did you hurt your arm?” She gestured to his shoulder.

“It was trapped under a branch. Laura pulled it off me. She’s crazy strong for someone who’s…” he trailed off and began to blush.

“She was a personal trainer before her accident,” Molly said as she examined his shoulder. From what she could tell, it was bruised, not broken or dislocated.

“I’ll get some painkillers and your antibiotics.” She was about to stand when Joe muttered something. “What did you say, Joe?”

“Oh, nothing.” He shook his head, his light brown hair flopping in front of his eyes. As he brushed it free he laughed a little and said, “I must be losing it, because I swear a bit of that tree had writing on it.”

“Writing?” Molly frowned, but even before the thought had fully formed in her head she was on her feet and running for the bedroom.

When she burst through the door, Colton was standing in the center of the room staring up at a large hole and several large sections of tree. One had smashed through the roof, another through the window.

As he heard her enter, he turned and seeing the look on her face held out his palms. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said gently. “The difficult part will be getting it off the roof, but once we’ve done that we can—”

“Can you see any writing?” Molly stepped into the room and peered up at the tree above. No, not there, that would have been too high.

She moved to the window and began snaking her hands along the bark.

“Writing?” Colton put his hand on her shoulder. “What kind of writing?”

“That kind.” Molly pointed a shaky finger at the section of trunk in front of her. As she looked at the almost illegible letters, tears sprang to her eyes.

Colton tilted his head, his eyes scanning the letters; then he looked back at her. “You wrote this?”

“When I was a kid,” she whispered. “This was my tree. My favorite tree.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffed loudly. “It had a nest of squirrels in it once, and it reminded me of the tree in My Side of the Mountain.” She looked up at him; he clearly hadn’t read the book but was watching her carefully.

He squeezed her arm gently and was about to pull her toward him when she stepped away.

In a fraction of a second, her tears had dried up and her skin was practically vibrating with anger. Leaving Colton alone with the tree, she stormed through the living room, out onto the porch, ran down the steps and kicked Jenna’s wood chopping stump as hard as she possibly could. Catching the side of her foot at an awkward angle, she cursed, grabbed hold of it, then sat down with a thud and buried her head in her hands.

She was counting to ten and trying to steady her breathing when a small voice said, “Miss O’Neil? Molly?”

Molly’s jaw tensed. She didn’t even want to look at Lucky right now.

Slowly, she raised her head. He was staring at her, scuffing the ground with the toe of his shoe, hands behind his back.

Staggering to her feet, Molly folded her arms in front of her chest and stared down at her former student. “I thought you’d grown up,” she said quietly. “I thought you’d changed. After everything we’ve been through, I thought you’d started listening to me, and then you go and do something like this….” She pointed to the cabin, waving her hand at the huge hole in its roof.

“Do you have any idea how difficult it’s going to be to repair that? How much time it’s going to take? Time we don’t have! Not to mention that someone could have been killed.” She was raising her voice. “I can’t remember a time when I felt this angry!”

“I’m sorry,” Lucky muttered, still staring at his feet.

“Sorry isn’t good enough,” Molly snapped.

“Hey….” Tommy was walking over from where he’d been looking at the base of the fallen tree. He had his ‘peacekeeper’ face on.

“Not now, Tommy.” Molly raised her palm at him, expecting him to turn and leave them alone.

Instead, he put his hands into his pockets and sidled up next to Lucky. “Look, I know it’s bad but yelling at each other isn’t going to help, is it?” he asked calmly.

Molly sucked in her cheeks. Her belly twitched indignantly.

“If it’s any consolation,” he said, looking from Lucky to Molly, “the tree was way lighter than it should have been. So the damage could have been far worse.”

“Lighter?” Molly frowned at him.

“Jenna thought she’d spotted signs of an insect infestation. We were heading back to look for a book to help identify it when we heard the tree going down. If she’s right, the tree would have been a lot less dense than normal. Probably why Lucky was able to chop it down all alone.” Smiling, Tommy play-punched Lucky’s shoulder and added, “Sorry, buddy. You’re still super-strong, though.”

Lucky blushed and shook his head.

“An infestation?” Molly looked up at the other trees.

“We might have to take a few more down.” Tommy said, shrugging. “It’s not too big of a deal, though, you can still burn diseased wood.”

Molly pressed her lips together. Diseased. The trees were diseased? Although Tommy was making light of it, that didn’t sound good.

Not for the first time, the weight of the decision she’d made when she dragged them all out here pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe. She had insisted they come to the cabin. She had told them it was a safe place.

Turning away from the boys, Molly waved her hand at them. “I need a minute,” she said quietly.

Behind her, she heard Tommy whisper to Lucky, “Come on.”

Certain they were gone, Molly turned and wrapped her arms around her waist as she surveyed the cabin. With Laura’s elevator out front, it had already started to look different from the place she’d known as a child. Now, with half the roof missing, it was almost unrecognizable.

“I’m sorry, Grandpa,” she whispered, once again fighting back tears. “I brought everyone here to keep them safe, but it feels like there’s so much to do. So much to change. Maybe we’d have been better off choosing a different cabin. Someone else’s. One I wouldn’t feel so wretched about destroying.”

As she spoke, she walked closer to the fallen tree. When she reached it, she ran her fingers over the exposed rings in its middle, then pressed her palm flat and breathed in deeply.

The roof was a mess. She had no idea how they’d even start getting the branches and the trunk down, let alone repairing it. She looked up at the sky; it was midday already. No one had eaten lunch, which meant their energy levels would be waning, and there were only six hours until sunset.

“Okay, Molly, pull yourself together,” she whispered; if her grandfather were here, the last thing he’d do would be to stand around and feel sorry for himself. He’d act. Fast.

* * *

When she entered the cabin, it was as if the others were all sitting waiting for her to return. Except for Alex and Laura, everyone else was in the living room. They looked up when she walked in and stared expectantly.

Avoiding Lucky’s gaze, because she still felt as though she might bite his head off if he spoke to her, Molly cleared her throat, thought back to those days in the classroom when she’d had to put her personal issues aside and ‘get on with it’, and put her hands on her hips.

“Okay, we’ve got a heck of a lot to do here, guys. First, we need to eat. No one can do anything on an empty stomach. Then we need to figure out how to get the tree loose from the roof.”

“Lucky could chop it to pieces,” Zack said quickly, but when Molly looked at him, his eyes had widened and he’d shrunk back in his chair as if he knew it was too soon for that kind of joke.

“I think Lucky’s done quite enough chopping for one day,” Molly said tightly. “But, yes, I’m guessing breaking it into pieces will be the best course of action.” She looked toward Colton and Tommy, who were standing by the fire.

Colton nodded. “Ideally, we need a ladder. I couldn’t find one in the basement, though,” he said.

Molly frowned. That seemed unlike her grandfather.

“We can make one,” Scarlett offered, glancing at Zack. “If we got two sturdy branches and made equal notches, then tied smaller ones between them as rungs.”

“Does anyone know how to do knots?” Zack asked.

“Of course,” Colton nodded.

“Great.” Molly tried to allow some enthusiasm to show on her face. “Then that’s the plan. Tommy and Jenna, you should work on identifying the diseased trees. I’m guessing we don’t want to use any diseased wood to actually repair the roof?”

Jenna nodded. Tommy did too.

“Scarlett, can you and Erik help me create the ladder?” The twins stood up, eager to get started already, but Molly added, “After we’ve eaten.”

Next to her, Lucky cleared his throat.

“Zack, get as much tarpaulin as you can from the basement. We’ll need to secure it over the window and the roof as soon as possible in case it rains.”

Again, Lucky cleared his throat. “Molly? I could—”

Before he could finish, Colton said, “You can come with me, Lucky. If everyone’s going to work their socks off this afternoon, we need a decent meal tonight. We’ll try to snare some ducks.”

Colton widened his eyes at Molly, to check that she was okay with this idea.

She nodded but turned away from Lucky before he could speak to her.

Never in her life had she been angry with a student. Not like this. But maybe that was the point; these kids were no longer her students. She thought of them as family now, and it hurt her more than she’d expected that her family—this new family she’d put everything into—could do something so careless. Something that had endangered all of them and what they were trying to achieve.

“Did your grandfather have a hand drill?” Scarlett’s voice made Molly turn around. In the kitchen, Colton and Tommy were picking out lunch rations for the group, but Scarlett and Erik were clearly keen to get going.

“I’m not sure,” Molly said. “But we’ll look after food.”

“I’m not hungry,” Scarlett said, pouting a little.

“Maybe not, but out here food isn’t for pleasure, Scarlett. It’s to keep our energy levels up so we can do what needs to be done.”

Erik raised his eyebrows and made an ‘I told you so’ expression at his sister.

“Okay,” she said gruffly. “Fine, I’ll eat, but we need a hand drill. If not, a screwdriver might do, and rope or twine for tying the rungs.”

Molly put a hand on Scarlett’s shoulder and guided her toward the kitchen. “Noted.”

As they all sat down at the table, Molly looked toward the Bankses’ bedroom. They still hadn’t emerged and Argent was sitting outside, head tilted as if he was listening for them, staring at the door like he might be able to will it to open.

Although Molly felt like she should go and offer them some lunch, at the same time she was a little afraid of facing Alex Banks. He’d already been anxious to leave—he hadn’t exactly made an effort to disguise his feelings—and surely now that his wife had been put in danger, he’d be even more desperate to escape.

“Scarlett,” Molly said gently, glancing over at Joe. “Did your mom show you how to change a bandage?”

For a moment, Scarlett simply stared back at her, blinking without answering. She’d been looking into the distance, as if stopping and sitting down had given her thoughts a chance to catch up with themselves and she was having trouble processing them. “A bandage?” She nodded slowly. “Yes, she did.”

“Okay,” Molly said gently, “then after you and Erik have eaten something, I’d like you to see to Joe’s leg while the rest of us see about the ladder.”

“I thought you wanted us to help with the ladder?”

“I do, but I think you both need some time out first.”

“Time out?” Scarlett snapped out of her haziness and folded her arms in front of her chest. “It was Lucky who cut the tree down! Not me! And I’m not a toddler. I don’t need a time out.”

“Scarlett, I’m not giving you a time out as a punishment. It was your mom who nearly got trapped underneath that tree. It’s clearly shaken you up a little, and I don’t want any more accidents today.” Molly spoke softly, reaching out to pat Scarlett’s hand. “So, while you clear your head, I’d like you to see to Joe for me, yes?”

Scarlett was about to nod when Erik cut in.

“She can’t be left alone with him,” he whispered, not very subtly looking at Joe.

“Which is why you’ll stay with her.” Molly stood up from the table and nodded at Erik. “You both need a minute to process what just happened. So, let us handle the ladder and the roof while you calm down. Okay?”

After exchanging a disgruntled glance, eventually the twins nodded. “Okay,” Scarlett said.

“Eat.” Molly pointed toward the kitchen cupboards. “Then bandage.”

As she walked away, she heard the twins muttering something to one another but chose to pretend she hadn’t. She didn’t expect them to disobey her; she just hoped they didn’t rush things and took the time to calm down. They’d lived through the ramifications of their mother’s car accident for far too many years, and the thought of her being badly hurt a second time had clearly left them both too shaken to be useful for a while.

Heading outside, she was surprised when Tommy caught up with her and handed her a protein bar. “You instructed the others to eat,” he said, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Thanks.” She took it and bit off a chunk.

“Don’t stay mad at Lucky for too long,” Tommy said. “He’s just a kid.”

Molly bit her lower lip. She didn’t want to talk about Lucky right now. They had a ladder to make. “Help me find two long pieces of wood?” she asked.

“We’d be better off cutting down a young tree from nearby. Split it in two if we can.” Tommy gestured to the wood.

“Can you do that?” she asked.

Tommy nodded. “Sure. I’ll take Jenna. She seems to know what she’s talking about. When you’ve finished your protein bar, you could find some smaller pieces. Sturdy. For rungs, and something to make grooves, and some string or rope.”

“Since when did you know so much about making ladders?”

“I stayed on a farm for a while when I got out of jail,” Tommy said, shrugging. “They were the kind of people who liked to make rather than buy.”

“I see. Well, I’m glad.” Molly bit off another piece of protein bar and wished she had some water to wash it down with. Why were protein bars always so unbelievably chewy?

As she sat on the bottom step, eating and waiting for Tommy to fetch Jenna, Molly heard footsteps behind her.

“We’re heading off,” Colton said, adjusting the bag and nets on his shoulder.

“Good luck,” she said, still not looking at Lucky.

As Colton paused, clearly expecting her to give in and tell Lucky all was forgiven, Molly stood up and walked back into the house. Over her shoulder, she called, “See you later. Don’t get lost,” then shut the door behind her.

23

MOLLY

As the light waned outside, Molly sat down on the edge of the bed and let her shoulders drop. Since the world turned upside down, she’d gotten used to aching muscles—something she never had to worry about as a teacher—but today was different. Today, after barely stopping to take a breath all afternoon, she was starting to realize that the months ahead held hard physical work with little in terms of sustenance as a reward at the end of it.

Normally, after a hard day, she’d drink a glass of wine, order take-out, and lie on her couch reading a book. Now, she had rice and beans with a thimbleful of lemonade to look forward to.

Rubbing the back of her neck, she stretched and heard it pop. Despite their achievements that afternoon, she was tense and she could feel it. Perhaps when everything else was fixed and they were fully prepared for winter, they could go scavenging for a bathtub. One of the places around here must have one of those old metal ones, surely.

She was still thinking about the bath, making her way back to the living room, when she heard a clamor of voices. Instantly, her heart beat faster, her legs twitched, and she ran forward. Bursting into the room, her breath coming quick and fast, she searched for the danger but was met instead by the sight of Colton and Lucky standing in the kitchen with the others crowded around them.

As she drew closer, Colton met her eyes above the others’ heads and nodded at her. She shook her arms to release the twitchiness in her muscles and gently moved Jenna to one side so she could see what was going on.

“Molly, check it out! Lucky caught six ducks!”

“Not just me, Colton too,” Lucky added, although the pride on his face was obvious.

“That’s double what Alex and Tommy caught,” Jenna said, eyebrows raised.

“That’s great.” Molly surveyed his catch and nodded approvingly. In her gut, pride and anger were butting up against one another and making her feel a little nauseated. Any other day, she’d have hugged Lucky tight and told him she was proud of him. Today, she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it.

She was walking away when Colton caught hold of her arm. “Molly, the kid’s sorry. Give him a—”

Colton’s voice was cut short by an almighty clap of thunder. Collectively, everyone froze and looked up as if they half expected the ceiling to cave in right then and there.

“A storm?” Molly looked at Colton. “Did it look like a storm was coming in?”

“It was windy,” Colton nodded. “Didn’t look too bad, though.”

But as they rushed out onto the porch, it seemed Colton’s weather prediction was wrong.

“Holy crap,” muttered Jenna.

Molly didn’t have the energy to rebuke her; rolling in above the treetops were huge dark clouds. Thick, black, and full of rain.

“Did you fix the tarp on the roof?” Colton looked toward the fallen tree.

“We did. We used the elevator to get the branches down and fastened it over the top and the window,” Molly said, relief lacing her voice.

“Good. That’s good.” Colton looked at the others and gestured to the door.

“Come on, everyone, back inside. If the storm’s coming, the storm’s coming. There’s nothing we can do to stop it. Thankfully, we have duck to take our minds off it.”

As they moved back inside, Molly remained on the porch.

“Molly?” Laura had gestured for Alex to go ahead and was lingering beside her.

“I’m okay,” she said. “I’m just not a big fan of storms.”

Looking down at Argent, Laura smiled. “Well, you’re in good company. Argent isn’t a fan either, are you boy?”

Argent tilted his head, looking up at the sky as if he knew full well what was coming, then nuzzled Laura’s hand.

“I’m going to get him in, give him some kibble. You should come. Don’t get wet.”

Molly nodded at her. She was gripping the railing, watching the wind begin to whip through the tops of the trees. A storm was definitely coming.

* * *

Mid-way through dinner, the rain started.

Thanks to Tommy’s brief stint on a farm after he got out of prison and Alex’s memory of his father, together they had skillfully plucked and cooked the ducks. While they did that, Molly had whipped up some rice and beans, seasoned with salt and pepper, to go with the meat. Practically a feast compared to what they’d enjoyed the previous nights.

They were on their second helpings when rain began to lash the roof.

“I hope the tarp holds,” Tommy muttered, shoveling rice into his mouth.

“It will.” Molly nodded at him. “It will.”

“Did we give Joe any duck?” Erik’s question was unexpected and caused Laura to frown at him.

“Of course we did.”

“And he’s in there alone eating it?” Erik gestured to Molly’s old room, the one she’d been rotating with Tommy and Colton since Joe took up residence in the third. Now that it had a hole in the roof, he’d been relocated.

“Yes,” Laura said tightly.

“I’m just saying, not sure it’s wise to give the guy a knife and leave him unsupervised.” Erik exchanged a look with Jenna that Molly couldn’t interpret.

Opposite his son, Alex remained silent. He’d been quietly seething all afternoon and had been little to no help fixing the roof, seeming more put out than proud that they’d been able to use the elevator to shift some of the branches down to the ground.

Laura looked at him as if she was expecting him to say something. When he didn’t, she made a tsking noise at Erik, put down her cutlery and said, “He doesn’t seem like a threat to me. Does he seem like a threat to anyone else?”

Trying to find the right words, gently, Molly replied, “Not a threat, exactly, but we don’t know anything about him. I’m not saying Erik’s right about the knife, I think that’s a little bit of an overreaction,” Molly shot Erik a teacherly glance, “but I do think we should find out a bit more about him before we trust him unquestioningly.”

Molly was looking at Colton to see whether he agreed with her when Laura said loudly, “Shouldn’t we take people at face value? Judge them based on how they behave, not on what they might have done in their past?”

“I’m not sure that’s what Molly meant, love.” Alex put his hand on Laura’s arm but just as she pulled away from him another huge clap of thunder sounded. The entire cabin shook, and the candle flames quivered.

Rain was lashing the windows now. Molly stood up from the table and moved toward the door.

“Don’t open it.” Colton was at her elbow. The door was beginning to knock, and water was seeping through the crack at the bottom. “Find something to seal this with,” he said to no one in particular.

At first reluctant to leave their dinners, no one moved.

“It’s okay, stay where you are, I’ll do it.” Molly gestured for them to keep eating and fetched a large towel from beneath the sink. Rolling it up, she pressed it up against the bottom of the door. “There,” she said, rubbing her hands together, “that should do.”

But Colton didn’t seem impressed. His face was taut and gray in the low light. “We should check that tarp,” he said quietly.

“Okay.” Molly’s stomach rolled over but she stretched her lips into a smile. “But it’ll be fine. We secured it pretty tightly.”

“I’ll come.” Having overheard them, Tommy rose from the table holding his plate. Quickly, he shoveled two more spoonfuls of food into his mouth, then grabbed the last bit of duck from his plate and followed Molly and Colton across the room.

The hallway that led to the bedrooms was dark and quiet. A faint light filtered out from beneath the door of the room Joe was in, but the Bankses’ bedroom and the bathroom showed no signs of life.

At the end of the hall, the door to Joe’s old room was closed. It wasn’t knocking. That had to be a good sign.

Molly stopped at Colton’s elbow, but before he’d even pushed it open he said, “Molly… look.”

Following his gaze, she wiggled the toe of her left foot. Water. Water was trickling out from beneath the door.

“It can’t be coming down that hard, surely,” Molly whispered.

Colton and Tommy exchanged a wary glance and, without pausing to discuss it further, Colton pushed the door open.

Almost immediately, they were met by a rush of cold air.

“The tarp’s come loose!” Tommy pointed up at the ceiling, stinging stripes of rain causing him to screw his eyes almost shut.

“We need to get up there and fix it,” Molly yelled, running to the center of the room.

“Going up to the roof in this weather is suicide,” Colton shouted, shaking his head as rain rolled down his face.

“So, then what do we do?” Molly whirled around, looking at the dresser, the wardrobe, the bed with her grandmother’s quilt on it, and the curtains that were flapping wildly in the wind.

“Barricade the door?” Tommy asked as they ran back into the hall and shut the door behind them. “Try and stop water spreading to the rest of the house?”

“If it goes on all night, nothing will stop it completely.” Colton put his hands on his hips. He was about to speak when Zack’s voice floated down from the end of the hall. “Molly, the basement’s flooding.”

Molly whirled around, the floor slick beneath her feet. The basement… how could she have forgotten the hatch? Her grandmother had complained about it every year; about the fact that her grandfather had never been able to stop the darn thing from leaking. About them having to shift their supplies upstairs every time there was a storm forecast on the radio, or when they left for the winter, so they weren’t destroyed in the months no one visited.

“All our supplies are down there. I should have…” Molly shook her head, trying to focus on what needed to be done rather than what should have been done. “We need to move them or they’ll be useless by morning.”

“Go,” Colton said. “We’ll figure this out.”

Already taking off back to the living room, Molly tried not to skid on the wet soles of her sneakers.

“How bad is it?” she asked, crossing the room behind Zack.

“Not too bad yet, but we need to seal off the hatch and we don’t have any more tarp.”

Down in the basement, Alex, Erik, Scarlett, Jenna and Lucky were staring helplessly at the water trickling in through the supply hatch.

“It hasn’t damaged anything yet, but if it goes on all night it will,” Alex said, pointing to their supplies.

“Okay.” Molly tried to slow her breathing and reel through the objects they had that might be helpful. Sheets wouldn’t do, they’d simply soak up the water. It really needed to be tarpaulin. “All right. Here’s what we’re going to do.” She pointed to the kids. “You four, start ferrying our supplies up to the living room. Stack them on the table and the countertops. Keep them off the floor as much as possible. Take stuff up to your room if you have to.”

“We’ll never manage all of it,” Scarlett said helplessly, pointing to the huge sacks of flour and rice that were piled in the corner.

“Start with the stuff closest to the hatch,” Molly said, then turned to Zack and Alex. “Alex, supervise the kids. Zack, find a hammer and meet me back in Joe’s old room.”

Hurtling back down the hall, Molly burst into Joe’s old room to find Colton standing on the bed, desperately trying to reach the ceiling. “It’s no use,” he said. “Without the ladder, we’ll never manage it.”

When he climbed down, his clothes were soaked. Water was streaming through the roof onto the bed and the floor, running toward the hall.

“How’s the basement?” he shouted.

“Not good.” Molly looked past him toward the window.

“Really?’ Colton asked, reading her mind as she looked at the tarp.

“Our supplies are down there. If we lose them….”

He nodded. Droplets of water were catching on his eyelashes. “Tommy, we need to take this down.”

For a split second, Tommy looked at them both as if they’d lost their minds. He caught up just as Zack charged in brandishing a hammer. “What’s this for?” Zack looked at the window. “Oh. Right.”

“As soon as it’s down the rain’s going to flood this room,” Colton said as he began ripping out the nails that had been securing the tarp to the wall.

“I know.” Molly glanced behind her. “But the supplies are more important.”

“We’ll still need to try and contain it, or it’ll spread to the other rooms. The kitchen. It’ll take days to dry out. Weeks if the bad weather continues.”

“I know,” Molly snapped, then closed her eyes. She was holding the tarp in place. The nails were out, and they were ready to pull it down. “Sorry.” She looked at him sideways. “I know it’s not ideal, but it’s better than losing our food supplies and our tools.”

Colton nodded. “Okay. Ready then?” He looked at Tommy and Zack, and at the same time, they let the tarp fall.

Instantly, rain streamed into the room. Molly shoved the tarp at Zack and Tommy. “Take this to the others. Help them secure the hatch.” Then she ran to the bed, pulled the quilt, pillows and sheet off it and yelled to Colton. “Look in the wardrobe and the drawers. Get any linen you can find.”

They worked quickly, both soaked to the skin. Molly’s T-shirt was sticking to her back. Her arms were ice cold and her teeth were beginning to chatter.

“Pile it up in the hallway. We’ll use it to block the door.” Molly ran for the hall and threw her armful of linen into it. Colton followed her but as he reached the door his foot slipped and he jolted his bad leg. Almost yelping, he stumbled forward and gripped the door frame as Molly tucked her arms beneath his to steady him. “Okay?” she asked, blinking up at him through wet eyelashes.

“Okay,” he nodded. “I’m okay.”

“Everything’s out?” Molly stepped back into the hall.

“Everything useful,” Colton replied. “And this.” He pressed a picture frame into Molly’s hand. It was the photograph she’d taken of her grandparents in front of the cabin. She allowed herself half a second to look at it, then reached for the shelf on the wall opposite, set it down, and returned to the job at hand.

Together, fighting against a slosh of rainwater, they pulled the door closed, then started to roll up their sheets and quilts, using them first to block as much of the door as possible. Next they stacked a row of pillows, then added thick blankets and, Colton’s quick thinking, pulled the rug from the hall and added that too.

Standing back, Molly allowed herself to breathe. “That should hold it, right?” she looked at Colton and shivered.

“I hope so,” he said, although she could tell from his tone of voice that he didn’t believe it would.

“We should check on the basement.” Molly barely gave herself ten seconds before starting back down the hall. On the way, she noticed that Joe’s door was open. When she reached the living room, she found him huddled on the couch with Laura beside him.

“Is he all right?” Molly asked.

Laura shrugged. Joe’s head was buried in his hands and he was rocking back and forth. “I don’t think he likes storms,” she said. “He’s not speaking, but Argent is worried about him.” Next to Joe, Argent was sitting with his head on his paws, staring at Joe as if he was waiting for something terrible to happen.

With no time to sit around and wonder what had gotten Joe so upset, Molly asked Laura if she’d mind watching over him and barely waited for an answer before charging back down to the basement.

To her relief, Tommy and Zack had succeeded in securing the tarpaulin over the hatch. “I could go out there and stack some firewood up against it too,” Tommy offered.

Together, Molly and Colton both said, “No. It’s too dangerous.”

Looking around at the others, Tommy nodded. “Shall we keep shifting this stuff upstairs?”

“I think it’s safe for now. Just move everything up from these bottom shelves,” Colton said, “and Zack, help me with these sacks. They’re our most important commodities. We can’t lose them.”

Zack nodded but balked as he and Colton attempted to lift the first sack of flour on their own. When Jenna and Lucky pitched in, it became a little easier, but Molly held her breath as she watched them struggle up the stairs. Colton did his best not to show it, but the extra weight added to his stumble from before must be causing him a considerable amount of pain.

With the sacks shifted, Colton and Molly returned to the hallway. Water had made it past their makeshift dam and was starting to trickle down the hall.

“Block off all the bedroom doors,” Colton said.

Molly repeated him, calling to the others, “We need more blankets. Sheets. Anything to help block the bedroom doors, and make sure anything essential is off the floor.”

“We can’t let this water settle. It’ll rot the wood.” Colton started back toward the kitchen, pushing past Molly on the way. “We need buckets and rags. We’ll have to soak up the water and wring it out into the buckets.”

He was in the kitchen, searching for a bucket, when Scarlett shouted. “There’s a big leak in the attic, too. Our stuff is getting soaked.”

“If we can get the ladder, I can fix it,” Zack said confidently. “It’s not a big hole. We have a spare piece of tarp that will cover it.”

“The ladder’s outside,” Jenna said, eyes wide.

“You’re not going out there,” Tommy added. “I’ll go.”

“I can do it.” Zack grabbed his brother’s arm, but Tommy tugged free.

“I’ll be right back. Stay there.” He rushed to the door and pulled it open before anyone could stop him. Rain and wind rushed inside, and Tommy was almost thrown back by the force of it.

“I’ll help him.” Alex squeezed Laura’s hand quickly and rushed after Tommy.

At Laura’s side, Argent was whimpering. “It’s all right, sweet boy,” she whispered, kissing his forehead. “It’s going to be okay. Shhhhh.”

What seemed like forever later, while Colton and Lucky started soaking water up from the hallway and funneling it into buckets, Tommy returned with the ladder.

“Here,” he said, handing it to the kids, water dripping from his clothes and skin.

Immediately, Zack and the others hauled the ladder upstairs. Above her head, Molly could hear them struggling with the tarp. She wanted to help them, but downstairs was more important.

Instinctively taking turns, Molly, Tommy, Colton and Alex set about keeping the hallway as free as possible from water. After a while, Laura told them to stop and take a break, but they carried on.

A while after that, the teens appeared; they’d succeeding in blocking up the leak in the attic and were ready to help.

By the early hours of the morning, Molly’s arms were burning, yet freezing cold at the same time. Water had soaked into her jeans, up through her knees and down into her socks. Her shirt was sodden. Even her hair was somehow wet. Her muscles shook with tiredness.

When the rain finally stopped, Colton was the first to collapse onto the couch. He groaned loudly, his face twisted in pain from scrambling around on the floor for so many hours.

Laura brought him painkillers and coffee.

“I’ve had my allowance today,” he growled.

“It’s a new day and screw the allowance,” Laura retorted, returning with coffee for everyone. “You should all go and get warm,” she said, even though she was shivering herself.

“There’s still a lot of water,” Molly panted, feeling suddenly as if she might fall down if she didn’t sit down. “Kids, you go. Upstairs. Get yourselves warm and changed.”

The teens looked at one another but finally, when Alex and Laura joined in telling them to go, they agreed.

“Shout out if you need us,” Scarlett said beneath a yawn.

“We will,” Laura promised. When the teens had disappeared, she moved toward the edge of the hall. Getting down it was impossible for her with all the rags and towels lining the doors. “Someone needs to check on Joe,” she said.

“I will.” Molly stood up from where she’d been leaning on the arm of the couch, but wobbled and sat down again.

“Take a minute.” Colton put his hand on her leg. “Just take a breath. Joe’s fine. You need a minute.”

Molly was about to protest but found she couldn’t. She was simply too tired. Sliding down onto the couch to sit next to Colton, she rested her head in her hands. She couldn’t bear to see the mess the cabin was in. Her grandparents’ cabin. The cabin they loved, and which she had nearly brought to its knees by deciding to come here.

“It’ll be okay,” Colton said quietly. “We’ll fix it.”

Molly nodded but didn’t look at him. This time, she really wasn’t sure whether they could fix it, and she didn’t know what they’d do if that turned out to be true.

24

VICTOR

It was early. Victor had spent the night back at the police station listening to the rain pound the roof and trying to catch a few minutes of sleep. Around sunrise, he had given up. Now he was pacing up and down, cursing Diego and trying to think of a way out of the situation he was in. He could go rogue, hunt prisoners alone with no backup, but if he did that Diego would hunt him down and he wouldn’t last very long.

He could leave town, start fresh somewhere else, but then who would finish cleaning up Fairfield? Who would be there to proudly show whoever came to reinstate order to the place that they’d taken charge and done what mattered? Who’d be there to take up the position of Warden at Fairfield Prison? To keep the town safe?

His only option, it seemed, was to do what Diego wanted. Which meant tracking down Jenna Cruz as quickly and efficiently as possible.

Shoving aside his dossier of prisoner profiles, Victor stared at the large Fairfield map he’d spread out on the table in front of him and sipped some cold coffee. He’d made it yesterday, but had been rudely interrupted by Diego’s men before he had the chance to drink it.

Downstairs, in the cells, his prisoners were yelling for food. He wished they’d shut up. Still, if there was no one here to give them food and water for a day or two, at least they might be more cooperative on his return.

“How am I supposed to find her?” he muttered. “She could be anywhere.”

He stood up and braced his left hand in the small of his back. Then his eyes came to rest on something. A small blue landmark. The high school.

Victor’s brain started to tick.

The Cruz girl was with the other kids from the Scared Straight trip, which said just about everything you needed to know about the kid. The teacher, Molly O’Neil, the one who’d helped him out of Fairfield, was in charge. Diego had told him that much. So perhaps she was the starting point.

Find the teacher. Find the girl.

* * *

Victor downed his thick, cold coffee, grabbed his backpack full of supplies and his coat from its hook. With winter approaching, it was starting to get cold out, and if he was going to be gone a few days, he’d need to keep warm.

From the police station, he headed toward the high school, now overrun with do-gooders who actually weren’t very interested in doing much good at all. When the CAL had first fallen, he’d offered Hicks his services, offered to team up. A cop and a prison guard; now, that would have been a team to be reckoned with. Except Hicks had refused. Looked at him like he was crazy. Laughed and said his first priority was fixing the mess Diego and the CAL had made, not hunting down prisoners who—as far as he could tell—hadn’t actually done any harm to anyone.

“If you want to help,” he’d said, “go fetch Diego Cruz from his bunker. Take a weapon. Secure him and bring him here so I can decide what to do with him.”

At first, Victor had almost refused, but then the idea had come to him; Diego Cruz was the leader of the CAL. Even with his group disbanded, he’d still have friends, power, resources. And if Victor was the one who freed him, well, he’d owe him a pretty big favor, wouldn’t he?

“Do you need help?” the cop had asked. “I can send someone with you.”

“I’ve handled bigger, badder guys than Cruz in my time,” Victor had said, puffing out his chest.

The cop had given him a look then, as if he didn’t quite believe him. A look that made a slow heat start to creep up Victor’s throat.

But he’d been right, hadn’t he? Apart from this whole Jenna nonsense, Victor had gotten Diego to agree to his plan. His only problem now was that the information he needed about the teacher and her kids was likely to be inside the school, which Hicks was now running like a miniature city.

Approaching the front of the gymnasium, which was used as the main entrance in and out of the place, Victor zipped up his coat to hide his uniform and ditched his gun and bag in the trunk of a nearby car. The chances of Hicks being around were slim, and no one else knew who he was. So he should be able to infiltrate the school pretty easily.

When he reached the doors, he joined a line of people who were all showing a piece of paper to a woman with a clipboard. On seeing it, she allowed them inside.

Victor peered over the shoulder of the man in front of him. The paper he held listed the man’s name and a number, and had some kind of wax seal on the bottom—presumably to prove it wasn’t forged. Victor rolled his eyes; he’d never seen anything so over the top.

“Hi.” The woman smiled at him and tapped her clipboard with her pen. “Do you have your papers?”

For a fraction of a second, Victor thought about pretending he didn’t have them with him, but decided against it and instead said, “I’m sorry, I walked here from Rockridge.” He rubbed at his leg as if it was hurting him and tried to look exhausted. “Someone said this was a safe place?”

“Of course.” The woman turned and picked up another clipboard from the table behind her. “You’ll need to give us a few details and I’d ask that you hand over any weapons you’ve got with you.”

“Ah, no weapons,” Victor said, stopping himself from glancing back toward the parking lot.

“Great. Just over there then, please.” The woman gestured to a small holding area just inside the doors where a couple of others were being searched and filling out forms.

Victor’s jaw twitched. He didn’t have time for this, but he didn’t see any other way into the building.

Taking up his place in the pen, he dutifully made up a bunch of details, allowed an eager volunteer to search him, then followed them into the main body of the gymnasium.

“If you hang around here for a while,” the volunteer said, fastening a green paper band onto Victor’s wrist, “someone will be along soon to get you settled. You’ll be allocated a room and some bedding. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like. Three meals a day are served in the cafeteria, and we do ask everyone to consider whether they might be able to take a volunteering role.”

“Volunteering?” Victor frowned.

“Security, cooking, cleaning, whatever you think you might be suited to. Or there’s the school. We’re asking anyone with teaching experience to think about stepping in to teach the kids. We only have two classes right now but—”

“Sure, I’ll think about it.” Victor folded his arms, looking around the room, already trying to spot an exit that might lead to the rest of the school.

“Okay then, I’ll let you get settled.”

He waited until the volunteer had walked away before making a beeline for the doors at the back of the hall, weaving through the crowds and pulling his sleeve down over his wrist band.

When he neared them, he realized that others were wearing yellow ones. Shoot. Would they let him through if he was green?

He sucked in his breath, straightened his shoulders, and marched up to the door. Without even looking at the guy guarding it, he pushed and tried to look surprised when the guy said, “Sorry, sir, can I see your wristband?”

Victor held out his wrist. “I just arrived,” he said.

“I’m not really supposed to let you through until you’ve been switched to yellow,” the young man said apologetically.

“Oh, really? They said I could use the restroom,” Victor said, jigging up and down as if he was desperate. “I drank some dodgy water, I think. Belly’s going round and round.”

The young man’s nose twitched involuntarily. “Ah, okay, sure,” he said. “Just down there on the right. Don’t go too far or you’ll hit the old classrooms.”

“Sure thing. Thanks, buddy.” Victor hurried through the door and, aware he was being watched, made a show of looking for the restrooms. After ducking inside, he waited a few seconds before pushing the door open again.

As he’d expected, the doors to the gym were now closed, so he slipped out and rushed down the hall.

Too far and you’ll reach the classrooms… perfect.

Diego had said O’Neil was an English teacher. Victor had no idea where to even start looking for the English classrooms, so he worked methodically.

As each room was now being used for something different, dorms mostly, the displays on the walls were his only real clue as to their past identity.

French, Geography, History, Math. He was almost in the belly of the school when someone tapped his shoulder.

“Can I help you?” It was a middle-aged man with glasses and a small face. So thin Victor could have pushed him over with his little finger.

“Ah, yeah, maybe.” Victor shrugged and smiled. “This sounds a bit silly, but I’m looking for Miss O’Neil’s classroom. English. Do you know where it is?”

The man frowned. “Well, sure, but why—”

“She taught my daughter. Ella. She’s desperate to know what happened to her. I said I’d check out her classroom, see if I could find her.”

The man looked as if he was finding it hard to process what Victor was saying. Like he knew it didn’t make sense but was distracted by Victor’s confident tone of voice. “Miss O’Neil isn’t here, I’m afraid. She left when….” The man swallowed hard and lowered his voice. “When all that business with the CAL happened.”

“I know.” Victor shrugged and chuckled. “But I promised, and you know what it’s like when you promise your kid something. If I can just see the room with my own eyes and confirm she’s not here, Ella will be happy.”

Eventually, the man sighed and smiled sympathetically. “Of course,” he said. “Of course. It’s just down there.”

“Thank you,” Victor said, praying the man wouldn’t follow him. “Thanks a lot.”

For a moment, the man watched him, but when Victor entered the classroom and peered back through the glass panel in the top of the door, he saw him walking away.

Smiling to himself, he turned and was met by an enormous timeline of American literature on the back wall. The classroom itself was empty, not even any beds in this one, and its desk was still at the front of the room.

He nodded and slotted his fingers together behind his back.

Toward the back end, rows of boxes had been lined up. Victor peeked inside one. Books. Each box was full of books. Notebooks, textbooks. Perhaps they were getting ready to set up their new classrooms with the well-meaning ‘volunteers’.

Victor slammed the lid shut. Was learning about history really a priority right now? These people needed to get their thinking straight.

Leaving them, he headed for the desk. It could have been another teacher’s room. The guy could have gotten it wrong and schools had more than one English teacher, but as he sifted through the drawers, he began to smile. Right there in the bottom drawer was a folder labeled Permission Slips. Inside, he leafed through five neatly ordered pieces of paper.

Erik Banks

Scarlett Banks

Jenna Cruz

Luke Morton

Zack Hargrove

And each slip was signed by none other than Molly O’Neil.

So, he had proof this was her classroom. Unfortunately, though, the slips showed the students’ addresses, not the teacher’s. Victor kept rummaging and was about to give up when his fingers caught on an envelope. He tugged it loose. It was an unopened pay slip.

His heart skipped a beat. Bingo!

He was about to peel it open when he heard voices outside. Hurrying to the door, he pressed himself behind it and peeped through the glass.

It was the cop! The very same one. Hicks.

Victor held his breath.

The cop and the woman he was talking to paused outside the door. “We’ll use this classroom for the older kids and the one opposite for the younger kids,” he said.

The woman nodded. “We’ll have to start off with just one class each, one teacher each, doing whatever they can with the materials we’ve got, but if we can get more volunteers on board we could create a whole curriculum.” Her eyes were bright. She was excited about this, it was obvious.

“Thanks, Rebecca.” Hicks put his hand on the woman’s shoulder. Their eyes met and lingered for a second.

Victor rolled his eyes.

“This was mine,” she said, gesturing to the room opposite. “Want to take a look? I was very proud of my Shakespeare display.”

The cop nodded, laughing a little. “Sure.”

Victor waited. As soon as they disappeared, he ripped open the envelope. His eyes scanned the top of the letter within.

Miss M. O’Neil

710 Ash Apartment 13, Fairfield, ME

Bingo.

25

MOLLY

Around the breakfast table, everyone was either fighting the urge to yawn or resting their head in their hands. Finally, just before sunrise, the rain had stopped. Although they had offered to keep helping, Molly had sent the teens up to bed while she and Colton had set about sweeping the hall and living room free of water.

Now, warming herself by the fire as Laura and Alex made breakfast for everyone, Molly looked over at Colton and sighed.

This was the start, wasn’t it? The start of things becoming more and more difficult. If they’d arrived sooner, if she hadn’t insisted that they stay at the CAL all that time, they’d have had ample opportunity to get ready for fall and winter. As it was, they were running out of time.

“Here.” Colton walked over and handed her a mug of coffee.

She was about to refuse when he smiled at her. “You can have my ration for tomorrow if you need another one later.”

Softening, she nudged him with her elbow and accepted the mug. “Thank you,” she said sincerely.

“Why don’t you go get some rest while we start on the roof?”

“You’re tired too,” she said, taking a sip and closing her eyes as she realized Colton had added two teaspoons of sugar today.

“I am,” he said, “but for you, all this…” he waved his hands at their damp surroundings, “it’s an emotional trial too. You have memories here.”

Molly nodded slowly. “I do, but my grandfather wasn’t a great believer in feeling sorry for oneself,” she said, looking toward the photographs on the sideboard. “And he loved this place. So it’s my job to help keep it from falling apart. So far, since we got here, I feel like all we’ve done is cause damage to the place.”

“None of this was your fault, Molly. It’s just been a series of unfortunate events.” Colton looked toward Lucky, who was talking quietly with the others, occasionally looking over at them. “It’s not Lucky’s fault either.”

Molly sighed and wrapped her hands around her mug.

“He thinks a lot of you. You’re the closest he’s got to family since the fire.” Colton rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not telling you what to do, but I think he’d really appreciate your forgiveness. Even if you don’t quite mean it just yet.”

Molly took another sip, then looked at Colton and shook her head. “I hate that you’re always right,” she said, smiling with the corner of her mouth.

“Me too,” he replied. “It’s a heavy burden to carry.”

“I’ll talk to him,” she said. “I promise. After breakfast.”

When the two of them joined the others, Molly realized they were all staring at a book in the center of the table.

“Well, I never thought I’d see the day,” she said, chuckling. “Good book?”

“We’re going to bake bread for supper tonight.” Scarlett tapped what was clearly a cookbook with her index finger.

“We need something to look forward to,” added Erik.

“And I’ve been dreaming about bread,” Scarlett said wistfully.

“And it’s Lucky’s birthday,” Jenna finished.

“Your birthday?” Molly frowned. Why didn’t she know that? Her stomach twisted guiltily.

Ignoring the question, Lucky quickly said, “I know how to hunt now. So I thought I could take Zack while you guys work on the roof? He’s good at tracking and I’m not much use around here.” His voice was quieter than normal. “Unless you need me here,” Lucky added. “I can stay and help. Whatever’s more useful. I’m not trying to get out of the hard work just because it’s my birthday. I promise.”

Looking at Lucky’s wide-eyed expression, Molly breathed in through her nose and held the air in her lungs for a beat longer than usual. When she released it, she smiled. “No, I think that’s a great idea,” she said. “You can’t work on the roof with your hand, and I don’t want any of you traveling alone, so taking Zack is a good plan.”

While Lucky grinned, the relief at Molly speaking to him again visible on his face, Scarlett and Jenna clapped their hands.

“And a birthday celebration sounds like just what we need.” Molly looked up as Alex and Laura began to serve porridge into the bowls around the table. “Did you hear that, guys? We’re having a party.”

“A party?” The expression on Alex’s face, a mixture of confusion and distaste, made everyone start to giggle.

“Yeah, Dad, a party. You remember those, don’t you?” Erik said, laughing louder than everyone else.

As Alex tucked his son’s head under his arm and ruffled his hair with his knuckles, Scarlett joined in and the noise levels were steadily increasing when Molly noticed Laura’s expression change. She was looking toward the bedrooms. Argent’s ears had pricked up. He offered a short sharp bark.

“Joe?” Laura moved forward. “You’re up?”

“Hey, look at that.” Tommy, who’d been quietly eating his porridge, grinned and waved.

The teens looked pleased too, but as Joe moved farther into the room, Molly noticed Colton tense beside her.

“How are you feeling?” Laura asked, Alex standing behind her chair.

“Stronger. Thanks.” Joe was wearing a hoodie he’d borrowed from Tommy and a pair of gray sweatpants. Both were too large and made him look incredibly skinny. Pushing his hand through his hair, he said gingerly, “Is there anything to eat? I’m starving.”

“Of course.” Laura gestured to the kitchen, but Joe seemed reluctant to move.

“Come on, you guys,” Molly said, sensing Joe was either a little overwhelmed by the volume of people in the room or feeling embarrassed about his behavior last night in the storm. “Eat up, wash up, and clear out. We start work in twenty minutes.”

As the teens filed out, bellies full of bland gray porridge, Molly served Joe a bowl and sat down beside him.

Giving Tommy and Colton a purposeful look, she filled a mug with coffee and set it down next to Joe’s porridge.

“Thanks.” He took it and closed his eyes as he drank.

As Tommy and Colton left, taking Alex and Laura with them, Molly sat down opposite Joe and began to eat her own portion of porridge oats. “Not the best,” she said lightly.

“Better than nothing,” Joe replied.

After a pause, Molly put down her spoon and placed her hands firmly on the table. “Look, Joe, I’m not going to beat around the bush here. We’re all happy you’re on your feet but—”

“But I can’t stay here. It’s okay. I get it.” Joe glanced around the kitchen. “If you’d be good enough to give me a day or two’s supplies, I’ll get out of your hair.”

“No, no, it’s not that, and I don’t think you should leave yet anyway,” Molly said quickly. “What I was going to say was that we know the wound in your leg was from a gun. We’d like to know what happened to you.”

She glanced toward the ladder that led to the loft.

“There are children here. So we need to be safe.”

Joe looked into his porridge for a moment, then pressed his lips together and nodded slowly. His shoulders dropped. Molly braced herself for his answer.

“Thing is,” he said, finally looking up, “I’ve been watching you.”

Molly blinked. Her forehead wrinkled into a frown.

“All of you. You’re hiding out too, aren’t you? Who from? What happened to you?”

“I—” Molly stopped and sucked in her cheeks. She couldn’t tell him about Diego and Jenna. She wouldn’t risk exposing Jenna like that.

Joe sat back and put his spoon down. “It’s okay. I get it. We’re all hiding from something these days, aren’t we?”

Molly didn’t move. Joe didn’t make her feel scared or nervous. He didn’t feel threatening, but a voice in the back of her head was asking: Why’s he so reluctant to just tell you what happened?

“I suppose so,” she answered.

“Listen,” he said. “You’re looking out for your family here. I can see that. I promise you, I’m no threat to you or your kids, but if you can’t share your secret with me, then how can I share my secret with you?”

“Joe,” Molly said, sighing a little, “it’s a little different. You’ve come into our house. We nursed you. We fed you.”

“Oh, I know,” Joe said quickly, raising his palms at her, “and I’m really honestly grateful.”

Molly frowned. She couldn’t read him, and it was beginning to unnerve her. “All right,” she said finally. “But as soon as you’re fit enough, I think it’s best we agree that you’ll be on your way.”

At that, Joe nodded firmly and pressed his hand to his chest. “I give you my word.” He met her gaze and held it for a moment, then returned to his porridge. “In the meantime,” he said, mouth full, “if you want me to take a look at your roof, I’d be happy to.”

“You know about roofs?” Molly asked.

“My dad was a general contractor. I helped out a bit as a kid.” He shrugged. “Might not have any insight but I’d be happy to look.”

Molly paused. She didn’t like that she didn’t know Joe’s story, but she wasn’t going to say no to someone who could help them fix their roof. “Okay,” she said, pushing her chair back from the table. “Let’s go.”

“Okay, what tools do you have? Can I take a look?” Joe asked, getting up from the table and depositing his bowl in the sink.

“Tools?” Molly glanced toward the basement. “I’ll fetch them. You stay here. I know you’re feeling better, but you can’t overdo it with that leg.”

As she moved toward the basement stairs, she felt Joe watching her. Could he tell she was using his leg as an excuse because she didn’t want him down in the basement where all their supplies were?

“You’re going to bring all the tools up here so I don’t have to walk down a few stairs?” he asked, following her. “Come on, that’s ridiculous.”

Molly swallowed hard. Despite being pleased with the help, Joe being more able to move around was making her extremely uneasy. Unable to think of a good enough reason why he shouldn’t enter the basement, Molly eventually nodded. Reminding herself to ask Colton to find a lock for the basement door, she showed Joe the way. At the bottom of the stairs, she steered Joe away from where most of their supplies were still piled up away from the leaky hatch and gestured to her grandfather’s tools.

“All right,” Joe said, limping over to them. “What have we got here…? A couple of good saws, enough hammers to supply a makeshift army of angry contractors.” He looked up and laughed. “That was a joke.”

Molly forced herself to smile.

“Plenty of nails. A hand drill!” He grinned and lifted something from the pile. “Could have used this for the ladder you built.”

“I didn’t know it was there,” Molly said sheepishly; they really should have cataloged the tools, shouldn’t they? She swallowed hard, thinking back to the prison and the weapons that inmates had made out of seemingly innocent materials.

Dropping the hand drill into Molly’s arms, along with a box of nails and two large hammers, Joe shakily bent down and grabbed the hacksaws and some rope. “This will do for starters,” he said.

Upstairs, as they were depositing everything on the dining table, the door clattered open and Lucky bounded in. Still buoyed from the triumph of catching his ducks, he grinned at them both. “I’ve had an idea,” he said, waving something. “There’s a ton of moss on the ground around the cabin and even more in the woods. We can use it to plug the gaps between the boards we put on the new roof. It soaks up water. Zack told me.”

Molly glanced at Joe, who was nodding. “Great idea,” he said. “We’ll do a layer of wood and moss, then the tarp, then another layer of wood and moss. Might get a few drips in a bad storm, but nothing close to the deluge we suffered last night.”

Lucky was still smiling, gripping his moss as if it was the only good idea he’d ever had. “Great. I’ll tell the others.” As he reached the door, he looked back at Molly and Joe. “It’s getting cloudy out there, though, so we should probably get a move on.”

“We should be able to get one layer of wood and the tarp done today. If the rain holds off.” Joe picked up his tools and gestured for Molly to do the same. “I know the kids started cutting wood already. When you were sleeping.”

Molly paused. Something in Joe’s voice made her look at him. Was he trying to embarrass her for some reason?

Joe, however, did not look back. He was already at the door, walking surprisingly well on his injured leg as he strode out onto the porch.

Just focus on the roof, Molly. Fix the roof. Then deal with Joe.

She glanced back at the basement. She mustn’t forget to find a lock.

26

MOLLY

“This ladder’s not helping,” Colton said, stumbling back and bracing his hands on his hips. “Getting the wood up and down is taking too long.”

“He’s right.” Joe, who had been up on the roof for more than an hour, had achieved very little because of the rate he was being supplied with wood. He’d managed to fasten in place one of the three large pieces they’d chosen to be a base layer beneath the tarp, but the other two were bigger and were proving difficult to get up the ladder.

Colton shook his head. Looking up at the sky, which seemed to be darkening by the minute, he shook his head. “We might need to just fix the tarp in place and start again tomorrow.”

“We can’t risk another night of rain,” Molly said, noticing the hint of desperation in her voice.

“It might not be as bad as the last storm.” Lucky was standing next to Molly, still bristling with guilt every time someone mentioned how difficult the task of fixing the roof was becoming.

“It’s not an option.” Molly folded her arms in front of her chest.

In the woods, Scarlett, and Zack were gathering moss for Lucky’s crack-filling plan while Jenna and Erik began to cut smaller pieces of wood, which would be tied in place on top of the tarp instead of the wood shakes that used to be there.

Tommy, who’d been trying to help Colton heave one of the larger pieces up the ladder, waved over at them. He was sitting on the bottom step in front of the cabin, sipping from a bottle of water. “Guys, why don’t we use the elevator?”

“The elevator?” Molly frowned and walked over. “It doesn’t go high enough.”

“We could rework it so it does.” Tommy stood up and pointed at it. “Laura can manage it in her chair, so we know it’ll take the weight, and if we can get several pieces up there at a time—”

“Then this whole thing will be fixed in no time,” Joe interrupted, nodding. “Good idea, man.”

Tommy nodded. He and Joe seemed to like one another, which was one of the few things making Molly feel as if she should give him more of a chance before deciding he couldn’t be trusted.

Molly pressed her lips together and looked toward the cabin. Laura was inside, preparing food for Lucky’s birthday, but Alex had gone out hunting straight after breakfast.

“I’ll go and ask Laura,” Molly said. “Wait there.”

Inside, she found Laura taking coals out of the stove with some tongs and struggling to balance them on top of a large heavy cooking pot.

“Laura, wait, let me help.” Molly hurried over and Laura smiled at her.

“Thank you,” she said, moving back in her chair and handing the tongs to Molly. “I can only just reach. I’ve already burned myself twice.” She turned her arm to show shiny red marks on her forearm and her wrist.

“Why didn’t you say?”

“Because you’re busy fixing the cabin and all I’m doing is making a birthday cake,” Laura said, gesturing for Molly to add some more coal.

“There’s a cake in here?” Molly tapped the pot with the tongs.

Laura nodded. “I have no idea if it’ll turn out okay. It worked with bread, so….” She shrugged and frowned at Molly. “Everything okay?”

Molly had been wondering whether there was any way they could set up a lower stove for Laura anywhere else in the room when she’d spotted the line Laura had strung in front of the fire. Hanging low, so the sheets pegged to it got the full benefit of the fire’s warmth, it looked like it was doing a good job of drying out their storm-damaged bedding. But there was something else hanging on the line.

“Is that a book?” Molly’s stomach tightened.

Laura followed her gaze. “Oh, yes,” she said. “I found it in the hallway. My Side of the Mountain? Somehow it ended up on the floor and it’s totally soaked. I’m trying to dry it out but—”

As Molly walked away, Laura stopped talking. “It must have been caught up in the blankets somehow,” Molly muttered. She’d reached the couch and stopped because she couldn’t bear to look closely at the pages.

“It’s yours?”

Molly closed her eyes. “It was,” she said quietly. “It was mine.” Turning away, she breathed in slowly through her nose and out through her mouth. She didn’t have time to get emotional over a book. Not now. “That doesn’t matter now,” she said abruptly. “Sorry, Laura, but I came in here to ask you something about the elevator.”

Of course, as she’d anticipated, Laura told Molly they should absolutely use her elevator if it would help. She didn’t even question it.

As she relayed the news to Tommy, Colton and Joe, however, Molly couldn’t help feeling uneasy.

“We’ll put it back how it was in time for the party,” Colton said, lightly touching Molly’s elbow.

Molly nodded, trying to focus on the task at hand rather than the urge to go back inside and examine the state of her beautiful book.

“With this, the roof will be done by tonight,” Tommy added, looking to where Joe and Lucky were unfastening the winch system and getting ready to relocate it.

“I know.” Molly breathed in deeply. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

* * *

“It’s done.” Joe stood back and rubbed his hands together. After a few hours up on the roof, he’d been forced to take on the role of yelling instructions from down below and was now rubbing at his thigh.

“Thank you,” Molly said sincerely. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Ah, I think you could,” Joe replied, smiling. “Just probably not as quickly or as professionally.”

Surprised by the moment of camaraderie between them, Molly smiled back and put her hand on Joe’s shoulder. “You’re probably right about that.” She looked up at the sky. “Hopefully, we’ve got time to put the elevator back the way it was before the rain starts.”

As Colton and Tommy climbed down the ladder, with Lucky holding it at the bottom, Erik, Jenna, Zack and Scarlett began to clap.

“Well done, everyone,” Molly said, joining in as they walked up the stairs onto the porch. “Well done.”

“Three cheers for Joe.” Tommy made a salute gesture with his right hand.

Joe shrugged uncomfortably and put his hands into his pockets.

“Hip hip—” Tommy stopped. He was looking toward the bottom of the steps.

“What have you done to Laura’s elevator?” It was Alex. He’d dropped his backpack at his feet and was standing, hands on hips, staring up at them.

“Dad, we used it to fix the roof. Isn’t it cool?” Erik said, taking a few steps toward his father before stopping.

Alex’s jaw twitched.

“We were just about to put it back how it was,” Molly said, gesturing for Tommy and Colton to get started.

Alex took the stairs two at a time just as Laura wheeled outside with Argent trotting beside her. “Oh, fantastic. You’re finished?” she asked, grinning. “I managed to construct a cake. Goodness knows what it’ll taste like.”

“Did you agree to this?” Alex waved at the elevator as Tommy and Colton struggled to quickly return it to the way it was.

“Of course.” Laura shrugged. “It would have taken them forever otherwise. Besides, it wasn’t just for my use. It was for all of us.”

“No!” Alex yelled. “It was for you. It was to make sure you could get in and out of this place easily. Without hurting yourself. What if they’d broken it? What if they’d—”

Alex was mid-rant, Scarlett tugging at his elbow to ask him to calm down, when Tommy yelled something indistinguishable.

“Grab it!” Colton yelled back.

“I can’t. It’s gonna—” Tommy cursed and shouted as something made a loud creaking sound.

Before anyone could do anything to help, the pulleys on the elevator slipped through Colton’s hands and the entire thing came crashing down. Bouncing off the edge of the porch, the platform smashed clean in two, bounced again, then landed in several shattered pieces on the ground.

Everyone gasped.

Argent let out a small whine and nuzzled closer to Laura as she put her hand over her mouth. She was looking at Alex. Everyone was looking at Alex.

“It’s okay,” Laura said quickly. “We can fix it. Everything can be fixed, right? Haven’t we learned that?”

Climbing down from the ladder where they’d been trying to reposition the elevator, Colton and Tommy began to examine the wreckage.

“It can be fixed, right?” Molly said, running down the steps, heart pounding. “We can fix it?”

“Maybe,” Colton said solemnly. “But we’d need to find another pulley.” He handed her the big metal pulley they’d miraculously found in a cabin nearby. It was broken. Completely unusable.

“And another platform.” Tommy lowered his voice.

“Well, that’s okay. We can do that, can’t we?”

“We scavenged pretty much every cabin nearby,” Tommy said quietly. “We’re going to be pushed to find the right things to rebuild it with.”

“We can think of something though, right?” Molly was looking from Colton to Tommy when Alex strode up next to them.

“I think you’ve done enough for one day,” he said, snatching the broken pulley from Colton’s hands. “Quite enough.”

27

LAURA

“Please, Alex, just come and join in the party.” Alex was sitting on the bed, leaning on his knees.

If she hadn’t been so worried about his bad mood, Laura might have smiled. How many times when they first got married had she begged him to go to parties with her? He never had been the socializing type.

“Why do you want to spend time with those people? They don’t give a rat’s ass about you, Laura.”

“That’s not true.” Laura reached for her husband’s hands and squeezed them. “What happened isn’t about me. The roof was more important.”

“Don’t you see?” Alex raised his eyes and met hers. “That’s my point. You should be the most important thing.”

Laura sighed and bit the inside of her cheek. She knew where Alex was coming from, but she also knew why the others had needed to use her elevator and she didn’t blame anyone for what had happened.

“Please, just tell me you’ll think again about leaving.” Alex stood up and brushed down his jeans. “I’ll come to Lucky’s birthday party if you say you’ll think about it.”

“Are you blackmailing me, Mr Banks?” Laura smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“No. I’m begging you.” He wasn’t going to flirt with her. Not tonight.

“Okay,” she sighed.

“And if it goes any way toward convincing you, you have noticed, haven’t you, that the twins have both got crushes?”

“Crushes?” Laura wrinkled her nose. “Don’t be silly.”

“Erik and Jenna. Scarlett and Zack. You haven’t noticed that they keep pairing off together? The last thing we need is a couple of pregnant teenagers in the middle of the woods.”

“Pregnant?” Laura bit back a loud laugh. “Don’t you think you’re being a little over-dramatic? I haven’t even noticed them crushing on each other.”

“Trust me. They are. All this time alone together. What do you think is going to happen?”

“No one’s getting pregnant, Alex.” Laura rolled her eyes, then paused. “I’d be more worried about one of them getting heartbroken.”

“Exactly.” Alex crouched down and took Laura’s hands. “We need our own space. I don’t care if Erik wants to date the Cruz girl or if Scarlett’s into dudes with long hair. I care about us being safe and happy, and for that we need our own place.” Alex paused. Something flashed in his eyes. “I found somewhere.”

Laura took her hands away and sat back in her chair. “I knew you weren’t out hunting today.”

“It’s not too far. Two hours’ walk from here for us. The twins could still visit their friends if they wanted to. We’d still be nearby if we needed help. But far enough away so that we can look out for ourselves and our family.”

Laura glanced at the door. She could hear the twins in the living room already. “Alex, we’ll talk later. I’ll think about it, I promise, but right now, we’ve got a party to attend.”

“All right,” he said, standing up. “Later.”

“Later.” She let him open the door for her and wheeled through with Argent at her side. When she reached the living room, she stopped and looked around the room.

The kids had hand-painted some Happy Birthday signs with paint from the basement. Molly had strung up some bunting, and the duck casserole Laura had spent all morning making smelled seriously delicious.

Everyone looked happy.

She sighed a little, then followed Argent as he trotted across the room.

“Dinner smells amazing, Mom,” Scarlett said, grinning at her.

“Really good, Mrs. Banks,” Zack added.

Laura paused, suddenly noticing how close Scarlett and Zack were standing to one another, but then smiled. “Really, Zack, just call me Laura.” Then she clapped her hands together. “Okay, everyone, dinner’s served.”

* * *

As the table burst into a loud rendition of “Happy Birthday”, Laura proudly brought over the cake she’d made. She’d had no eggs and no milk, but she’d used ground almonds, maple syrup, ground ginger, plain flour, baking soda, and a tiny amount of cooking oil, and it had come out okay. Despite being cooked in a wood-fired stove that she had absolutely no experience using.

“Mom, good job,” Erik grinned.

“Wow.” Lucky was practically bouncing up and down in his seat. “Thank you. So much.”

“You’re welcome.” Laura put her hand on Lucky’s shoulder.

“Wait for it.” Molly stood up, reached into her pocket, and took out a small blue birthday candle. “I found this in a drawer.” She held it to the large candle in the middle of the table, then passed it to Lucky. “Make a wish, then blow it out.”

Lucky clutched the candle, closed his eyes, whispered something under his breath, then puffed out the flame. “Can we eat it now?” he asked eagerly.

“Absolutely.” As Laura passed Molly a knife and watched her slice and dish out the cake, she folded her hands in her lap and smiled. This was a happy moment. A pure, lovely, happy moment.

“And after cake,” Molly said excitedly. “I thought we’d toast some marshmallows outside.”

As Scarlett let out a little squeal, Lucky looked like he might pass out from happiness. “Can I get the bonfire going?” he asked. “We’re doing a bonfire, right?”

Laughing, Molly exchanged a glance with Colton and said, “Sure, you can start the fire, but you need to make sure it’s contained and not too large. We’re surrounded by things that are flammable and, while I’m sure it’d look cool, I really don’t want the entire forest going up in flames.”

“You can trust me, Molly. I’ll do it right. I promise.”

Molly nodded. “I know,” she said quietly.

At that, Lucky grinned, pushed his chair back from the table, shoveled the last of his cake into his mouth, grabbed the matches, and beckoned for the others to follow him.

Glancing at the adults for permission, the teens paused, butts half off their seats.

“Go on,” Laura said, nodding as she served herself another piece of cake. “It’s a party, you don’t have to wait for our say-so.”

As they bundled out of the door, she looked at Molly and smiled.

“Thank you,” Molly said. “Lucky’s had a fabulous evening.” She stood up and began loading dishes into the sink, then turned around. “We’ll do these later. Right now, are you joining us for marshmallows?”

“Of course.” Laura followed Molly, Colton and Tommy onto the porch. They watched for a while as the teens had fun lighting the fire and fooling around; then Molly fetched the marshmallows and yelled for them to start grabbing appropriate sticks for toasting.

When Alex came outside with Joe, Molly beckoned for them to follow her. “Shall we join them?”

Joe stopped. He was looking around them at the pitch-dark woods. “No, thanks,” he said. “I’m partied out. I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Molly nodded but exchanged an uneasy glance with Colton.

“Alex, love?” Laura tentatively looked toward the elevator. “Could you help me down?”

At that, Molly, Colton and Tommy all looked away guiltily. Alex pressed his lips together. “Sure,” he said. “No problem.”

When they’d first arrived at the cabin, she hadn’t minded Alex helping her like this but—somehow—now, having him lift her up and carry her down the steps while the others looked on--it felt different. Uncomfortable. As he set her down in her chair and she accepted a stick loaded with marshmallows from Erik, she smiled. At the same time, though, panic fluttered in her chest. Without that elevator, if something bad happened and she was alone, she’d be stuck.

So, perhaps Alex was right. Perhaps it really was time for them to move on.

28

VICTOR

By the time Victor made it to Molly O’Neil’s old apartment building, it was pitch dark. Getting out of the school had been harder than he’d expected. Every time he’d turned a corner, someone had asked what he was there for, and then he’d walked past the canteen and smelled food. Real food. So he’d gone in and stayed for a while.

Someone had been catching rabbits and had made a stew that was being served up with rice and cups of lemonade. It was the best food he’d had in weeks. Maybe even months. Hot and rich, it warmed his stomach and made him a little bit sad because it reminded him of his mother’s cooking, and he did miss his mother.

Briefly, he’d thought of the prisoners he’d left back at the police station. He doubted Diego’s men would go back there and feed them, but he wouldn’t be gone long. A few days of hunger would only serve to make them more cooperative on his return.

As he’d eaten, a woman next to him had tried to strike up a conversation. Noticing his green band, she’d asked where he was from and what had brought him to Fairfield. He’d indulged her for a few minutes, making up a story about a run-in with some thugs who’d stolen all his worldly possessions and enjoying the look on her face when he said he’d beaten them off single-handedly.

When she’d started to talk about the cops cleaning up the streets, however, something had tugged at his gut and he’d remembered why he was there in the first place. Sure, it was tempting to settle in there. Eat the food. Sleep in a nice safe bed. Talk to a woman who found him interesting. Perhaps take on a role in security. Maybe even work his way to a top position if he told them some inside information about Diego’s whereabouts and re-ingratiated himself with Hicks.

If he did that, though, he’d be losing sight of the bigger picture. His core purpose. The one thing he’d been trying to achieve since this whole mess started; getting prisoners who should be locked up to pay the price for their crimes.

“I’ve got to go,” he’d said abruptly, scraping back his chair from the table.

“Oh, okay.” The woman had tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled at him. “I hope I see you around, Victor.”

“Sure, yeah, maybe.” Victor had turned and left without bothering to remember her name.

* * *

Now, approaching the burned-out apartment building that O’Neil once called home, Victor swung his backpack from his shoulder and took out his most prized possession: a working flashlight. He’d found it in a metal cabinet deep in the basement of the police station and he hadn’t told a soul that he had it. Until now, he’d only used it once, aware he needed to keep it for absolute emergencies.

Well, this was one such emergency. His life’s work depended on finding the whereabouts of Molly O’Neil, and with her, Jenna Cruz.

He was certain that what he needed was inside that building.

Pushing the door open, Victor swallowed hard. The entire building had been scarred by the fire that had ripped through town after the train crash. The walls were charcoal black. The air still reeked of smoke, and the stairs looked decidedly unsafe.

Adjusting his backpack on his shoulder, Victor recited the teacher’s address to himself, then took a deep breath and prayed the steps could hold his weight. As he put his weight onto the first, it creaked but held. He was almost at the first landing when one of them groaned beneath him. Hurrying, he skipped a couple and landed heavily in front of three doors with dirty gold numbers. Apartments one, three and five. Not here.

He ascended another flight of stairs. Then another. Then finally he found it: number thirteen. Unlucky thirteen.

To his surprise, the door swung open when he pushed it. He grinned to himself; this was going to be easier than he’d anticipated.

Inside, the teacher’s apartment had been decimated by the fire. Where there once would have been shiny hardwood floors, there was now a sooty black layer of dust underfoot that Victor would have to remember to brush off before he left the building if he didn’t want to leave a trail behind him.

It was a small apartment, but Victor imagined it had been decorated the way most single women’s apartments were; throw cushions, lamps, rugs, pictures on the walls and fruit in a bowl on the countertop.

With the kitchen and the living area in the same open plan room, and only one bedroom, there wasn’t a lot of space to search, but with only his flashlight for company Victor was forced to work slowly and methodically.

He started by the door, made his way to the kitchen and then to the metal frame of what would have been the teacher’s couch.

He was working his flashlight over the ground inch-by-inch when his toe caught on something. A frame. Hidden beneath a pile of old, charred books. Gingerly, he picked it up, almost expecting it to still be warm to the touch despite it being weeks since the fire had been put out.

The glass was still intact but, like everything else, covered in soot, so Victor gently wiped it with his index finger. As he wiped, a familiar face came into view. He’d only met Molly O’Neil when she was at the prison and he hadn’t been paying that much attention while she’d been corralling teenagers. He’d gotten a much better look when she’d found him lying in a pool of his own blood. The woman in this frame was younger, brighter, perhaps only a teenager, but it was most definitely the same woman he’d met.

Beside her, hand on her shoulder, smiling for the camera, was an elderly man in a checked shirt. They were surrounded by trees and standing in front of a wooden cabin.

Carefully, Victor removed the photograph from the frame, which he allowed to drop to the floor with a thud. He turned it over and there, written in black ink at the bottom, was a date—7th July 1997—and something else. Victor squinted at the writing. Lot 34.

Lot 34… but where?

Wherever the cabin was, it was the perfect hiding place. That had to be it. It had to be. But a lot number and no real address wasn’t going to get him very far.

Victor almost growled with frustration as he looked around the room. Perhaps, before the fire, he’d have been able to find some paperwork. A map. A diary. Something that would tell him where that cabin was located. Now, all he was likely to find was ash.

He was steeling himself to start his search all over again when he heard something. A creak. A step creaking.

Quickly, he turned off the flashlight and shoved it into his back pocket, then ducked into the bedroom. Peering through the gap in the door, he saw movement. Someone was holding a lighter. Stepping into the room and looking around.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

Victor calculated his options: hide, run, or expose himself and hope it might lead to some information. Determined, he chose the latter of the three and stepped out with his hands in the air.

“Stop. Who are you?” It was a man. Older than Victor. Holding his lighter with shaking fingers.

“My name’s Victor Fox. My cousin, Molly O’Neil, lived here. I’m looking for her.” Victor widened his eyes and tried to look worried.

The man examined his face for a moment, then moved closer. “Molly? Her cousin?”

“Yes.” Victor puffed out his chest then added, “And who are you? Why are you in my cousin’s apartment?”

“Oh, I’m the property manager. Fred.” The man extended his hand and shook Victor’s. “I’ve been watching over the place since…” he trailed off and looked hopelessly around the room. When he returned his gaze to Victor, he said, “I never saw you visiting.”

“It’d been a while since we saw each other,” Victor said, shrugging. “But when the EMP hit, I guess I felt like I needed to check on my family.”

The man nodded. “I get that,” he said quietly.

“The thing is, I think she headed here.” Victor held out the picture for the old man to examine.

“Ah, the cabin up in Blue Lake Woods. Her grandfather’s place.” The caretaker paused. “Or, I guess if you’re cousins, your grandfather’s place too.”

Without missing a beat, Victor nodded. “Ah, yes. Pops. That’s him.” He pointed at the man in the checked shirt. “He and Molly were close. Real close.”

“So, you’re gonna head out there?” Fred asked.

Victor was still staring at the photograph. “Yes,” he said. “Yes I am.”

“Well, it’s too late for you to head off now, buddy. My basement’s pretty warm. Why don’t you join me for some coffee and a bite to eat to see you on your way?”

Victor allowed his fingers to tighten on the corner of the picture. “Sure,” he said. “Coffee sounds like just the ticket.”

As they left, Victor paused at the door. The moon had come out from behind a cloud and the apartment was cast in an eerie gray light. Victor allowed himself to smile. “I’ll see you soon, Molly O’Neil,” he whispered. “I’ll see you very soon.”

29

COLTON

“Hey, buddy. You didn’t feel like roasting marshmallows?” Colton sat down at the dining table. Outside, the others were still toasting their marshmallows, but Colton simply hadn’t been able to rest knowing Joe was skulking about inside on his own. He didn’t trust the guy, and it was time to get some answers.

Joe was nursing a mug of hot chocolate. Without his beard, he looked younger. Much younger. Perhaps in his mid-twenties.

Colton gestured to the bottle of whiskey he was holding. “Fancy a drink?”

Joe shook his head. “No thanks,” he said. “I’m good.”

“Mind if I do?” Colton stood up, fetched a glass from the cupboard near the sink and sat back down.

“Go ahead.” Joe shrugged, but as Colton poured a healthy portion of whiskey into his glass, he looked away as if he didn’t want to watch. He did that a lot; looked away, avoided being seen, stayed in the shadows.

“So, we don’t know much about you, Joe.” Colton wasn’t going to tiptoe around the guy. He needed answers.

“Don’t know much about you either.” Joe shifted uncomfortably in his chair but didn’t meet Colton’s eyes.

“Difference is, I didn’t turn up with a gunshot wound and I’m not the one relying on strangers’ good will for my survival.”

At that, Joe looked up and swallowed hard.

“I’m not threatening you,” Colton said without softening his tone. Taking a sip of his drink, he added, “I’m just asking for a bit of honesty here.”

“Honesty?” Joe was looking at Colton’s glass. When he looked away, he pushed his long fingers through his hair and sighed. “Honestly, man, there’s nothing to tell. I was looking for somewhere to hide. Came across a cabin upstream. Thought it was empty, but the owners were there. The guy chased me with a rifle. Fired at me. I kept running and fell into the ditch. Passed out and your kids found me.”

Colton’s jaw twitched. It was a plausible story unless you looked closely at it. The nearest cabins to the gully where they’d found Joe were at least a fifteen-minute walk away, and to keep running with a bullet wound to your thigh was nearly impossible.

“It’s just, you seem a little nervous to me, Joe.” Colton looked around the room. “Like you’re afraid of something.”

“I’m not a fan of outdoors, that’s all.” Joe sat up a little straighter. His expression had hardened.

“But you came to the woods for shelter? Even though you’re not a fan of the outdoors?” Colton was keeping his voice steady and his features neutral, but Joe’s throat was beginning to flush.

Scraping his chair back from the table, he shoved his hands into his pockets and said, “Listen, man, I don’t mean anyone any harm. So, why don’t you mind your own business? As soon as I’m fit to leave, I’ll be out of here.”

Slowly, Colton stood up from the table too. He was holding his whiskey glass. Walking around to Joe’s side of the table, he stretched back his shoulders. Joe was taller than him, but lanky. Colton had muscle and wasn’t afraid to make it look like he’d use it if necessary. “No,” he said quietly. “You listen. These people are my family. So, if I think for one second that you’re a threat to them—”

Joe blinked at him, then sighed a little. As if he didn’t really want to be taking this route, he bit his lower lip then said, “I think you’re underestimating me, Marine. I’ve been here a few days now. I’ve been watching you all, and if you want to keep your family safe—because I know you guys are hiding from something too—then maybe you should keep your nose out of my business. Stay out of my way and stop asking questions. Otherwise, I might be forced to leave here and shout to whoever will listen that there’s a bunch of kids and a schoolteacher hanging out in the woods.”

Colton’s fist twitched at his side. The fingers holding the whiskey glass whitened with the pressure of gripping it. Before he could reply, Joe picked up his hot chocolate, looked toward the door and said, “You know what? I think I do feel like toasting marshmallows.”

The door was almost closed when Colton turned back to the table, slammed his glass down, and cursed under his breath. Joe wasn’t your obvious hard man, but he clearly knew how to handle himself. Colton hadn’t expected that.

“Careful, that’s good whiskey you’re wasting.” Molly’s voice made him jump. He hadn’t heard her come in. She was pointing at the whiskey that had sloshed over the side of his glass.

“Sorry,” he said, wiping it with his sleeve.

“Is there enough for one more?” Molly leaned back against the kitchen counter, took a glass from the cupboard and held it toward him.

“Always.” Colton poured her some and tilted his head from side to side as he said, “Sorry I can’t offer it on the rocks.”

“Cold drinks are overrated.” Molly took a sip, winced—clearly she wasn’t as used to whiskey as she was pretending to be—and set down her glass. “So, you and Joe? Want to tell me what’s going on?”

“How much did you hear?” he asked, fingers flexing as he gripped his glass.

“Only the glass bumping heads with the table.” Molly took another sip, wincing less this time. “But the look on your face tells me it wasn’t just two guys getting to know each other over a drink.”

“He’s a closed book,” Colton said.

At that, Molly raised her eyebrows at him. “He’s a closed book?”

“Okay,” he said, fighting a smile. “Maybe that’s rich coming from me, but if you asked me straight up about my past, I’d tell you. That guy….” He jerked his thumb toward the window. “He’s hiding something. Something big. His story doesn’t add up. In fact, he doesn’t even really have a story. And when I pushed him, he said he knew we were hiding from something too and threatened to go tell people we’re here.”

“What people?” Molly scoffed. “There’s no one around for miles.”

“That’s not the point.” Colton could feel rage bubbling in his chest, but when Molly reached out to press her hand on his, it subsided.

“I know,” she said, meeting his eyes. “I had a similar conversation with him.”

“You did?”

Molly tilted her head to the side. “He didn’t threaten anything. In fact, he promised he’d leave as soon as he was fit enough, but he did imply he knew we were hiding something. In a way that made me feel I shouldn’t push him for answers.”

“So, what do we do?” Colton asked, topping up his glass. “Tell him to leave?”

As Molly pressed her lips together, the way she did when she was thinking hard about something, Colton tried not to be distracted by the curve of her mouth or the way she fiddled with the loose hair just behind her ear.

“This sounds awfully calculated,” she said quietly, leaning forward across the table. “But maybe we should let him finish fixing the roof first, then tell him to leave.”

Unsure whether she was joking or not, Colton studied Molly’s face. Her cheeks were flushed from the whiskey, and she was grinning at him.

“I’m not joking,” she added.

Outside, someone started singing. It sounded like Jenna. Soon the whole group had joined in.

Molly got up and walked toward the window. Staring out, she wrapped her arms around her waist and smiled. “They’re having a good time,” she said. “But if they keep singing like that, Joe won’t need to tell anyone else we’re here.”

Colton stood up to join her. Moving so he could see out, his elbow bumped up against hers. As Erik and Jenna started to dance around the fire, Molly let out a small sigh and turned away from the window.

“I miss dancing,” she said wistfully. “Not that I went dancing that often before all this.” She waved her hand around at the cabin. “I wasn’t exactly a partygoer. Spent most nights alone in my apartment.” She sighed again and put her hands into her pockets. “I didn’t even have a cat,” she said. “Scared of commitment, I guess.”

“I know that feeling.” Colton followed Molly over to the fireplace and threw another log on the fire while she warmed her hands in front of it. “After divorce, commitment feels overrated.” He looked down at his knees and shrugged. “And I was never much for dancing either.”

“Well, maybe that’s something we should change.”

When Colton looked up, Molly was holding out her hand. He looked at it and felt a slow heat creep up his throat. She was asking him to dance? Here? Now? “Oh, no, I—”

But Molly was already slipping her hand into his. “Come on,” she said. “Maybe it’s time we both stepped out of our comfort zones a little.”

“You’re telling me you’re in your comfort zone out here?” Colton asked, laughing, then swallowing hard as Molly started to sway from side to side. Slow to catch up, his body eventually did the same. “I mean,” he said, “I’m sure not. Living with a bunch of teenagers.”

“Surely a bunch of teenagers can’t be that different from a bunch of Marines?” Molly laughed. “Smelly, loud, full of hormones—”

“Oh, they’re different,” Colton replied. “Very different.”

“Well, it’s different for me too. I haven’t lived with anyone before. I didn’t even have roommates in college.”

“You didn’t?”

Molly laughed. “My roommate dropped out in the first semester, and they never replaced her, so I got a room to myself.”

“Lucky you.”

“I dunno,” she said, still swaying him slowly back and forth, “having company isn’t so bad.”

Colton let himself meet Molly’s gaze. As he did, his feet stumbled.

“It still gets a little lonely at night, though,” she said. She’d stopped swaying now and was looking toward the hallway.

“Mmm hmm,” was all Colton managed to say.

“So, perhaps, tonight you’d…” She trailed off, then suddenly laughed.

Colton blinked hard.

“Oh, heck,” she said. “I’m terrible at this. Colton…” She straightened her shoulders and started to walk toward the hall. In the voice that had made him smile ever since he met her, she looked at him and said, “I’m going to bed, and I think you should join me.”

For a moment, Colton did nothing but stare at her. Had he misheard? No. He hadn’t misheard her. Wake up, man, don’t just stand there, move.

“Yes,” he said, slipping his hand into hers as he followed her across the room. “I think I should.”

30

MOLLY

Molly woke later than usual. She knew it was late because the light coming through the shutters was different. Since they’d arrived at the cabin, she’d consistently been one of the first to emerge in the mornings, either because she’d been on shift with Joe or because she was keen to get the day off to a good start. Set a good example. Greet everyone with enthusiasm and a plan for the day ahead. Something she’d gotten into the habit of doing when she was a teacher and, clearly, hadn’t shaken despite several months out of the classroom.

Although she hadn’t been able to tell the time, she’d known it was early because it was still gray and hazy outside. Not dark but, with the forest blocking the sunrise, not light either. Waking up precisely when she needed to was a talent she’d always possessed. When they were teenagers, it had irritated her brother no end; while he’d slam his alarm clock on snooze at least three times before emerging from his pit, Molly would be up before hers even rang. It was the only trait her father had praised her for.

This morning, however, her intuition failed her. When she woke, dappled sunlight was filtering in through the shutters which, somehow, were half open. She pushed herself up onto her elbows and looked around the room. Then she realized she wasn’t wearing any clothes and a smile crinkled her lips. She was about to close her eyes and let herself remember last night when the bedroom door opened.

Suddenly, seeing Colton fully clothed and looking just as he always had, she began to blush.

“Morning,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand as he carried a mug of coffee with the other.

“Morning.” Molly sat up and leaned back against the cool wooden headboard behind her, adjusting the quilt so it was tucked under her arms and fully covering all of her essential parts.

Colton handed her the mug and sat down next to her, perching sideways on the bed. Instinctively, he rubbed his bad knee, but then he moved his hand and, to her surprise, gently brushed Molly’s knuckles with his fingertips.

“You let me sleep in.” Molly sipped the coffee and closed her eyes. She could hear birds outside. “I never sleep in.” When she opened them, she tucked her hair behind her ear and glanced toward the door as if she was afraid someone might be about to enter.

“You had a late night,” Colton said, the smallest smile twitching at the side of his mouth.

“I did,” Molly replied. “Very late.”

For a moment, they looked at one another without moving. In another world, if they were here on vacation and not because they were fighting for their survival, perhaps they would have fallen back into bed. Spent the day pretending nothing else existed.

The sound of Lucky and Erik bickering beneath the window, however, reminded her that this was not that world. They had jobs to do.

“I should get moving,” she said, drinking a little quicker.

“The others have started clearing the wreckage from the elevator. We’ll have to go foraging again if we want to repair it.”

“Do we have time for that? Don’t we need to secure the roof first?” Molly asked, lowering her voice even though they were alone. “I know the elevator’s important but—”

“No, you’re right.” Colton was nodding in agreement. “The weather’s cleared up but we don’t know how long it’ll last. We need the roof watertight before another storm or the flood damage could be too much.”

“Is there any way to dry out the room that took the worst of it?” Molly set her mug down on the bedside table. She was thinking out loud. The ground floor units in her apartment block had flooded once and the management company had sent people in with machines to suck out the water and dry everything. “I’m just worried about the wood rotting.” She reached for her jeans, which were in a bundle on the floor, and tugged them on.

“Let’s take care of the roof first, then we’ll assess the flood damage. The hallway seems fine, but you’re right about the bedroom.” Noticing Molly search for her sweater, Colton picked it up from where it had fallen behind a nearby chair and handed it to her.

She blushed as she tugged it over her head, but by the time she’d swept her hair from her face and tied it into a loose bun, her mind had returned to their ever-growing list of tasks.

“I know you don’t like Joe,” she said as they exited the bedroom. “But now he’s back on his feet we might as well use him.”

As she mentioned Joe, something flashed across Colton’s face. The same expression she’d seen last night. But he quickly buried it and nodded at her. “Just keep an eye on him,” he said quietly, resting his hand in the small of her back.

Caught between wondering what this subtle shift in Colton’s body language meant and whether she really should be worried about Joe or if Colton was being a little overprotective of them all, Molly didn’t notice that the kitchen was empty until she was standing in the center of the room.

“Where is everyone?” she asked, looking around the room.

Frowning, Colton looked toward the door. “Outside, I guess.”

Forgetting about breakfast, Molly strode over to the door, patted her hair as if she was worried the others would be able to tell from the look on her face exactly what had happened last night, then pushed it open and stepped out onto the porch.

She was met by the sight of Alex Banks carrying Laura down the steps. Argent was waiting at the bottom but Laura’s chair was at the top. Scarlett and Erik were standing behind it, and both of them were yelling.

“Dad, we don’t want to go!”

“You can’t force us!”

Molly put her hand on Scarlett’s shoulder. “What’s going on?” she asked gently.

“Dad wants us to leave.” Scarlett turned wide-eyed to Molly and gestured toward her father. He’d reached the bottom of the steps and, still holding Laura in his arms, was waiting for Erik to bring her chair down. At his feet were three backpacks and a box.

As Erik finally gave in and took the chair down for his mom, Molly trotted down in front of him. “Alex? Laura? What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, Molly.” Alex gently helped Laura into her chair, then looked up. “We can’t stay. The elevator was the last straw.”

As if she’d been punched in the gut, Molly breathed in sharply. “We’ll fix the elevator. Colton and I were only just discussing it. Please, both of you, don’t go.” Molly looked at their bags. “Not like this.”

Alex, however, was shaking his head. “The decision’s been made, Molly. We talked about it last night and we’re both agreed it’s the right choice. I came across a rambler not too far away that’s better suited to our needs. It makes sense.”

“To you, maybe!” Erik folded his arms in front of his chest. His jaw was twitching. Next to him, Scarlett started to cry and Jenna—who’d been watching with Lucky—put her arm around her friend’s shoulders.

“You didn’t talk to us about it,” Scarlett sniffed. “Don’t we get a say? Doesn’t it matter what we think?” Looking at Jenna and Lucky, then glancing at Zack, she added, “We don’t want to leave our friends. We like it here.”

“It’s not the right environment for your mother,” Alex said tightly. “You want what’s best for her, don’t you?”

“Of course we do, but Mom clearly doesn’t want to go.” Erik ducked to meet his mother’s eyes. “Do you, Mom?”

Folding her hands neatly in her lap, Laura Banks took a deep breath. She looked tired. Her once bright skin was dulled and there were lines beneath her eyes that weren’t there before. As she spoke, she nestled her fingers into Argent’s fur. “Kids, you’re right. I don’t want to go.”

Alex’s eyes widened.

“But your father’s right. This isn’t a good place for me. As much as I hate to admit it, I think it’s best we move on now rather than wait until winter’s here.” Glancing at Molly, she bit her lower lip then added. “Besides, we won’t go far. You’ll still be able to see your friends.”

“It won’t be the same,” Erik muttered. Next to him, Scarlett wiped some tears from her cheek and shrugged out of Jenna’s embrace.

“Isn’t there anything we can say to persuade you to stay?” Molly asked, lacing her fingers together in front of her stomach.

Alex shook his head.

Glancing at Colton, Molly sighed. He nodded briefly and put a light hand on her shoulder. “Okay,” she said, “but if we can’t persuade you to stay, at least let us help you leave.”

Alex and Laura exchanged a brief glance.

“This isn’t enough supplies.” Molly gestured to the bags at the Bankses’ feet. “Wait an hour. We’ll get some more things together and help you transport them.”

For a moment, Molly expected Alex to say no, but Laura spoke before he had the chance. “Thank you, Molly. We can wait an hour.” She smiled softly. Molly smiled back, but turned away before tears started to sting her eyes.

Inside, as Molly started to rummage through the cupboards and pull out cans she felt they could spare, Colton stepped up beside her. Slowly, without saying anything, he began to stack them neatly into a box.

Eventually, when she was confident she wouldn’t start crying, Molly turned around and leaned back against the countertop. “I’ll miss her,” she said quietly. “And the twins.” She wrinkled her nose and laughed a little. “Even Alex.”

“I know.”

“It doesn’t feel right that our family’s getting smaller.”

“But the Bankses are their own family,” Colton said quietly. “Alex is looking out for them the way you look out for us.”

Molly let his words sink in for a moment and released a small sigh. “I guess you’re right.”

“Did Molly O’Neil just tell me I’m right?” Colton nudged her gently in the ribs.

“Don’t get used to it,” she laughed.

“Listen, if we’re going with them,” Colton said, moving the box to the dining table and grabbing a second, “maybe we should check out some of the other locations nearby. Wouldn’t hurt us to have a bug-out somewhere.”

“A bug-out in case our bug-out is compromised?” Molly smiled but was nodding. “Okay.” As she took the second box from Colton, her fingers brushed his. “You’re not going to run away too, though, are you?”

“Absolutely not.” Colton met her eyes. His features were set sincerely. “I’m not going anywhere.”

* * *

“You really don’t have to come with us,” Alex said as Molly helped him load up one of the wagons with the boxes she’d prepared.

“Just because you’re moving doesn’t mean we have to be strangers. I want to know where you guys will be. I want to make sure you’re settled and okay.” She straightened up and put her hands on her hips.

“Alex, you know that look,” Laura said, chuckling. “That’s the look that means she’s not taking ‘no’ for an answer.”

For a moment, Molly thought Alex was going to put up a fight—as if he thought she was only agreeing to accompany them so she could try to change their minds. He rubbed his beard with his thumb and forefinger, then eventually nodded. “All right,” he said. “Thank you.”

As the others gathered around, Scarlett still puffy-eyed and sniffing as she said goodbye to her friends, Molly repeated what she and Colton had discussed inside. “As well as finding a secondary location for ourselves, I think it’d be good to find out whether there’s anyone else nearby.”

“So we know who to avoid?” Lucky asked.

Molly shook her head. “No, so we know who we can make contact with.” When a grumble passed through the group, she added, glancing at Jenna, “Diego Cruz got a lot of things wrong, but he was right about needing a community to survive in times like this. We don’t have to live in one another’s pockets, but it would be good to know where our neighbors are in case we need help.”

“Others might have resources we don’t, and vice versa,” Colton said, looking mainly at Tommy—the other adult—for agreement. “If we work together with those nearby, we’ll have a more successful winter.”

Before Tommy could speak, Joe—who’d been leaning on a tree nearby watching them—stepped forward. His arms were folded tightly across his middle. “You really think that’s a good idea? You don’t know who these people are. Didn’t you all come here because you wanted to stay out of danger?”

While Tommy tilted his head, clearly trying to interpret Joe’s tone, Colton visibly bristled. “If we’d felt that way when we found you at the bottom of a ditch, you wouldn’t be here now,” he said gruffly.

Joe unfolded his arms. He was tall and slim, but had a hardness about him when he was challenged that bothered Molly. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Most of the time, Joe seemed completely harmless. Helpful, even. Nice. Occasionally, though, when his hackles were raised, a darkness flashed across his face.

“Look,” Molly said, cutting in before Colton said something that truly started an argument, “either way, our best defense is to know who’s around us, who we can trust, and to make friends. We need allies. We can’t cut ourselves off forever.” Noticing Laura and Alex exchange a look, as if Molly was only saying this because of some kind of visceral gut reaction to their group’s dwindling numbers, she waved around the group and said, “All right, let’s vote.”

“Do we get a vote?” Lucky asked, more surprised than sarcastic.

“Yes,” Molly said definitely. “You’re part of the group, aren’t you?”

A smile twitched on Lucky’s lips.

“All those in favor of scouting for others, raise your hand.”

Everyone except Joe, Laura and Alex raised their hands.

“That’s settled, then.” Molly nodded at Colton and allowed her shoulders to relax. “So, now we just need to decide who stays and who goes.”

31

VICTOR

Coffee and a bite to eat with the property manager of the apartment block had turned into coffee, a bite to eat, and far too much homemade liquor. Victor woke mid-morning the next day with a heavy head and a swirling gut. No matter, he’d gotten exactly what he needed.

As it turned out, Fred not only knew where Molly O’Neil’s cabin was—he’d been there. When she first inherited it, it seemed she’d asked him to accompany her out there on a day trip to check out what work needed doing. He’d been planning to give her a hand over the summer. Of course, that was before the power went out and the world went to crap.

Staying carefully in character, Victor pretended he knew this. Pretended he was overjoyed to meet the person who’d offered to help his cousin restore their grandfather’s cabin to its former glory. After a few glasses of rotgut Victor had even persuaded him to draw a map detailing exactly how to get there.

“It’s been years since I last visited,” Victor had said, slurring his words and hiccupping. “I’m a little concerned I’ll get lost without GPS.”

“Oh, well, why don’t I come with you?” Fred had offered, swaying in his moth-eaten chair.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.” Victor had put his hand heavily on Fred’s shoulder. “Not when you’ve got a duty of care here at the apartment block. With you here, the looters are staying away. You’re a deterrent. As soon as you leave, they’ll swarm the place like locusts.”

Fred had nodded solemnly at that, although a smile had twitched at the corner of his lips at the idea of being called a ‘deterrent’.

“Here.” Victor had pulled a notebook from his backpack and opened it to a blank page. “Why don’t you draw me a map? If you can remember.”

And that was it. Fred provided Victor with exactly what he needed. A badly-drawn map of the woods and the paths leading to Molly O’Neil’s hideout. A map leading all the way to Jenna Cruz.

With Fred still snoring in the corner of the room, Victor pushed himself up from the couch and dusted himself down. The entire building still reeked of smoke. God knew what it’d done to his lungs, sleeping in that place.

Stuffing the map into his pocket, he paused, sighed at the sight of the old man in front of him, half considered asking Fred to join him, then changed his mind. Instead, he grabbed a bottle of his homebrew from Fred’s stash, shoved it in his backpack, and left.

Outside, the bright mid-morning sun made Victor squint and shield his eyes with his hand. He was practically vibrating with the urge to take his information to Diego. To slam it down in front of him and say, “Ha! You doubted me? Well, here you go.”

He’d started off in the direction of Diego’s hideout when he caught sight of himself in a store window. Disheveled. Greasy. Stinking of charred building remains. He didn’t look confident. He didn’t look successful. He looked like the kind of guy who’s just stumbled upon the answer by accident rather than someone whose carefully thought-out detective work had solved the case.

“Clean yourself up,” he said to the man in the window. “Then you can look Cruz in the eye and show him what kind of man you really are.”

* * *

Victor was on the corner opposite the police station when he spotted two men in blue shirts dressing down a pair of scruffy-looking teenagers. One of the men reached out and snatched something from the smaller teen.

“You can’t just take what you want. Things are done differently now.”

“Who are you to tell us what to do?” the teen spat back.

“Yeah, who put you in charge?” yelled the other one.

Adjusting his bag on his shoulder, Victor watched with interest as the men exchanged a half-defeated glance. “Come to the high school,” one said. “If you come and sign up, you can have whatever food and shelter you need in exchange for helping the community.”

“Isn’t that what the CAL were doing before you got rid of them? How’s your way of doing it any different?” The smaller, but clearly mouthier, teen folded his arms in front of his chest and tipped his chin up at the men trying to talk sense into him.

“We’re very different,” the man said. “We rely on people working together because they want to, not because they’re told to.”

“So, if you’re not telling us to, then get out of our way and leave us alone!” The teen was yelling now, and it made the hairs stand up on Victor’s arms.

Without thinking, he strode across the road, fingers flexing next to the handcuffs on his belt. “Couldn’t help overhearing,” he said loudly. “Do you fellas need any help? If these two are giving you trouble, perhaps a night in my cells would help?” Victor looked purposefully toward the police station.

The men in blue shirts smiled politely but shook their heads. In front of them, the teenagers—who a moment ago had been all mouth—began to stutter. “No way, man, we’re not going in there with the dead bodies.”

“Dead bodies?” Victor tilted his head and almost laughed.

The men in blue were frowning. The teenagers opened their mouths to speak, but only the smaller one managed to. “Yeah, man, it stinks back there. We all know you’re starving your prisoners to death.” Just before running away, he added, looking at the men in blue shirts, “Sure, you’re all so much better than the CAL. So much better.”

Watching the boys run away, Victor started to chuckle. He looked at the men in blue, expecting them to thank him, but they were staring at him with a strange look on their faces. As if they thought he was strange. Concerning. Odd.

Victor’s smile dropped from his lips. “Better go check on my dead bodies,” he quipped, straightening himself up and stalking back toward the station.

He was still muttering to himself when he reached the door. He stopped. His nostrils twitched. Ugh. The kids were right. It really did stink around here.

* * *

Inside, the stench Victor had noticed from outside the building intensified.

“Holy Jesus,” he coughed, pulling his shirt up around his mouth, ignoring the fact that his large belly was now exposed.

From the direction of the cells, he could hear shouting. He didn’t bother to try and work out what they were yelling about. It was pretty obvious. One of them had died.

Victor breathed out and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was tempted to simply turn around and leave, but if more of them croaked while he was gone, it’d be a bigger mess for him to clear up when he returned. So he headed for the kitchen, grabbed some protein bars, bottled water, and trash bags, then wrapped a tea towel around his face to shield him from the smell.

“Shut up!” he yelled as he pushed open the doors to the cells. “You want food? Here.” He began to push protein bars and bottles through the food hatches in the doors. “Now which one of you is sharing with a dead guy?”

“Are you serious, dude?”

“How can you treat us like this?”

“We’re not animals!”

“Listen!” Victor whacked his gun on one of the metal doors. The sound bounced off the walls. “If you don’t want to live with the stench, you better tell me which one of you is sharing with him so I can give you stuff to clear him up with.”

“It’s me,” came a small voice from cell four. Victor couldn’t remember who was in there. “Ramirez,” the voice added.

“And the dead guy?”

“Hansen,” the voice replied, choking back a cough. “He—”

“I don’t need to know what happened.” Victor strode over to cell four and started to push trash bags, tape, and bleach through the hatch.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Ramirez whined.

“Well, if you don’t want him to keep stinking up the place, seal him up.”

“Come on, this isn’t right,” came a voice from another cell.

“I don’t have time for this,” Victor muttered. Already walking away, he shook his head. Really? What did they expect? Five-star accommodations when they were the criminals? They’d given up their right to be treated like people when they’d stopped acting like people.

He allowed the doors to close with a thunk behind him, then went around the room throwing open windows to help filter out the smell. By the time he returned, it should be much more bearable.

He was about to go wash and change when he heard movement toward the front of the station. Reaching for his gun, he straightened up and fixed his eyes on the main entrance.

“Fox? You in here?”

Victor released his breath when he saw Diego enter, hand over his mouth, looking like he might throw up.

“Jesus, what have you been doing in here? Hiding dead bodies?”

Behind Diego, two of his soldiers glanced toward the cells.

Victor ignored them. “Diego,” he said, smiling. “I was just about to come find you.”

“Really?” Diego positioned himself near a window and lit a cigarette, leaning as close to the fresh air as he could manage. “Because I was a little worried you’d gone back on our arrangement and simply been hiding out here instead of doing what I asked you to do.”

Victor’s hand twitched on his gun as Diego’s men spaced apart, staring at him.

“Absolutely not,” Victor said, confidently sauntering over to his backpack. “In fact, I’ve got something for you.”

Diego was resting his arm on the window and didn’t move, simply taking a long drag on his cigarette. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Victor reached into his bag and triumphantly pulled out his notebook. “You see, I went to the high school. I got past the guards, tracked down the teacher’s old classroom, and found her address.”

Diego was listening, but didn’t yet look impressed.

Pacing up and down, Victor waved the notebook. “I went to her apartment. Sifted through the ruins and found a photograph.”

“Jesus, Columbo, hurry it up,” one of the soldiers laughed.

“In that photograph was a cabin,” Victor said, deliberately slowly. “I then tracked down the property manager of the building, who was still hiding out there. I told him I was the teacher’s long-lost cousin, come to find her and check on her. Convinced him to reveal the woods the cabin’s in and…” Victor triumphantly opened the notebook and slapped it down on the table nearest Diego. “I even got him to draw us a map.” Prodding at the map with his index finger, Victor grinned. “This, right here, will take us straight to the teacher and, therefore, straight to your daughter.”

Diego paused for a moment, then flexed his fingers, indicating that someone should pass him the notebook. Victor stood firm, so one of Diego’s men was forced to give in.

Studying the map, Diego nodded. “I have a proper map of these woods. In my bunker,” he said, then nodded at the one who’d passed him the notebook. “Go fetch it. Bring spare weapons and supplies.” He looked at Victor. “We’re going on a field trip.”

Victor nodded slowly. Diego thought he’d got one over on Victor. He thought he was forcing him to take a trip he didn’t want to take, to spend time away from his mission, running around fetching his daughter back.

What he didn’t know was that Blue Lake Woods was exactly where Victor wanted to be. Because those woods were where he’d lost Joe Mullins. Those woods were the place he’d been itching to return to ever since he’d been forced to leave Mullins behind.

Finally, he was going to find out whether he was alive or dead.

Diego could do whatever he wanted to do with the teacher and her friends. At least Victor would finally have his answer.

32

MOLLY

TWENTY-FOUR HOURS LATER

“Here we are.” Alex stepped back and opened his arms. “Home sweet home.”

Molly looked at the twins. Neither seemed impressed, but Laura was smiling.

“Nice,” Tommy nodded, patting Alex’s shoulder.

Jenna was looking at Erik. “It’s nice. It’s—”

“Big,” Molly added, “and the paving’s going to make life a bit easier for your mom.” She was looking at the twins, hoping to encourage some enthusiasm. The twins, however, didn’t show even a flicker of a smile.

Having taken an entire day to trek to the Bankses’ new cabin, camping overnight near a stream, they were all exhausted. Molly badly wanted to just take a moment, but Alex wasted no time at all.

“See,” he said, gesturing to the side of the cabin, “there’s a ramp.”

“It belonged to an elderly couple,” Molly said, following him. “Their son helped them renovate it, I think.”

“Well, they did a great job.” Alex was gesturing for everyone to follow him up the ramp and into the cabin, but Laura had stopped nearby.

“Oh,” she breathed. “Look at the foliage around here. Alex, it’s lovely.” She was gathering up armfuls of the wild curly dock, which seemed to be growing around the perimeter of the cabin, and smiling.

Molly swallowed down a knot of emotion. Laura looked happier already.

Inside, Alex immediately began to throw open the shutters. “See,” he said, smiling at Laura. “It’s more spacious, right? And everything’s on one level. No steps. At all.”

As Laura followed Alex around the cabin, Molly had to admit it would be far easier for her here. With fewer people and a bigger space, it was almost as if this place had been waiting for her.

While Alex and Laura disappeared with Argent to assess the bedrooms, the twins simply flopped down on the couch with Jenna. Zack had wanted to come too, but Colton had insisted that three people go on the trek with the Bankses and three people stay at the cabin. Joe, he’d told them, didn’t count.

Molly had half hoped Colton would volunteer to come with her and Jenna, but he clearly didn’t want to let Joe out of his sight. So she’d settled for Tommy, who actually seemed more disappointed than she’d expected him to be at the prospect of Alex leaving the group.

“It’s a cool place, man,” Tommy said when Alex walked back into the room. “You’ll be happy here.”

“We’ll stay for a while and help you get settled,” Molly said, putting her backpack down near the door. “We can help you gather up some firewood. Stay the night if you like.”

“No need,” Alex replied; while his mood had softened toward her over the last twenty-four hours, he clearly had no desire for her to hang around. “I mean, stay tonight, of course, if you really want to. But you’ve got your own mission, haven’t you? You wanted to look for other inhabitants around here?” He gestured to his family. “There’s four of us. We can handle collecting firewood. We can handle everything that needs to be done, in fact.”

“Of course,” Molly said, glancing at Laura. “I just meant that you’ve got a lot to do to prepare for winter and—”

“We’ll be fine.” Alex put his hand on the back of Laura’s chair.

Interrupting them, presumably because she couldn’t stand the tension, Laura laughed. “Well, what’s first, then? Light a fire? Make some tea? Where’s the stove? You can’t go on your way without something to eat and drink.” She looked toward the kitchen. “Molly? Have you used a stove like this before? Could you help me?”

Gladly following Laura into the kitchen, Molly left Alex trying to enthuse the twins about the benefits of having their own place. The twins, however, did not look convinced; Scarlett was barely speaking and Erik simply grunted whenever his father said, “Cool, huh?” or “Isn’t this good? So much space?”

“The twins will come around,” Laura said, probably more to herself than to Molly.

“Of course they will.” Molly helped Laura light the stove, then stopped herself from beginning to unpack supplies and put them away; this was Laura’s kitchen. She’d put things where she wanted them.

“They’ll miss their friends, though,” Laura said quietly.

“Laura?” Molly stepped in front of Laura, her back to Alex. “Are you sure this is what you want? It feels a long way out, pretty far away in case you need help. I mean, it’s lovely, it’s just…” Molly sucked in her breath. She and Laura hadn’t started as close friends, but over the past months, they’d grown to truly like and respect one another. “It’s just that I really will miss you.”

Laura smiled and reached for Molly’s hand. “I’ll miss you too, but no. We have to do this. We have to make a space that works for our family.”

“You haven’t thought about going back to town?” Molly asked. She wasn’t sure where the question came from and immediately wondered why she was bringing it up.

“We discussed it.” Laura had located a teapot and was rinsing it with bottled water. “But we both feel that town is too volatile. We don’t know what Diego’s doing or who might try to take over next. We’d rather be out here where we can see the danger coming.”

Molly nodded. “I get that.”

“Scarlett’s going to make us a bear alarm,” Laura laughed. “It can double as a Diego alarm.”

“I really don’t think we need to worry about him anymore,” Molly said, glancing over at Jenna. “If he hasn’t come for Jenna yet, I doubt he’s going to.”

“I know.” Laura shrugged. She seemed lighter already. Less tired despite their long trek. “I was kidding.”

Molly leaned back against the counter and watched as Laura prepared tea and some left-over, slightly dry cake from Lucky’s birthday party; he’d insisted they take it with them rather than leave it behind, which had made Molly’s stomach swell a little with pride.

“Are you sure we can’t help you?” Molly asked a short while later as they finished their tea and cake. “It feels strange to simply leave you all here.”

“We’ll be fine.” Alex nodded at her, a little gentler this time. “We’ve got a big list of chores to do, but we can manage. There was running water here at one point, so Scarlett and I will search out the well while Erik gathers firewood.”

“Uh oh,” Jenna cut in. “That’s a lot of chopping. You sure you can handle it, Erik?”

As the two of them exchanged a look, Molly smiled and stood up from the table. “Okay then,” she said, looking at her friends one last time. “We’ll be on our way, but you know where we are if you need us. Please don’t be strangers.”

“We won’t.” Laura gripped Molly’s hand between hers and Argent nuzzled into Molly’s side.

As tears filled Molly’s eyes, she walked away, picking up her bag and leaving Tommy and Jenna to their own goodbyes as she headed out to wait by the trees out front.

Finally, as Jenna walked away red-faced and teary-eyed, and Tommy slapped Alex on the back one last time, it was time for them to go.

“Okay,” Molly said, waving with one hand while she wrapped the other around Jenna’s shoulders. “We’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon,” Laura called. Scarlett and Erik were waving. Alex waved too, and then he put his arms around the twins and guided them back inside.

As they disappeared, Laura waited a moment longer with Argent beside her. Then she too turned around and was gone.

Molly squeezed Jenna’s shoulder. “We’ll see them soon,” she said. “Really soon.”

* * *

As they made their way through the undergrowth, Tommy checked his compass and motioned for them to head right. Letting him go on ahead, Molly stayed back with Jenna. The poor girl had been crying for the entire fifteen minutes since they’d left the Bankses.

“I know you’ll miss Erik,” Molly said, nudging Jenna’s shoulder with her own. “But we really will visit them. They’re not gone forever.”

“I know,” Jenna sniffed. “It’s not just that.”

“Then what is it? You want to go with them?” Molly asked, trying not to let the panic she was feeling show in her voice.

“No.” Jenna shook her head. “I just envy them. They’re a real family. Maybe I should have tried harder with my dad. Maybe…” Jenna trailed off, sniffed, then shrugged. “I know my dad’s not like Erik and Scarlett’s dad. He doesn’t care about me the same way. I just wish I had a family like that, you know?”

Sighing a little, aware that Tommy was listening to them from a few feet away, Molly wrapped her arm around Jenna’s shoulders. “I do know,” she said gently. “I know exactly what you mean. But you know what I realized these past few weeks?”

Jenna shook her head.

“Sometimes, the family you choose is the best kind of family.” As a smile twitched on Jenna’s lips, Molly continued. “Since this whole thing started, I’ve been beating myself up for not thinking enough about my parents and my brother, but the truth is that they stopped being my family a long time ago. I made the choice to distance myself from them because they weren’t good for me.” Molly stopped walking. Ahead, Tommy stopped too. “But you guys? I chose you. I want to be with you. I care about you.” She shrugged and started walking again. “So, if you’ll have me, I’d like to be your family from now on.”

When Molly looked at Jenna, she was crying again. “I’d like that,” she whispered. “I’d like that a lot.”

Hanging back to keep pace with them, Tommy grinned. “Can I get in on this family thing? Or is it just for you girls?”

“Sure,” Molly laughed. “You and Zack are welcome.”

“And Lucky and Colton?” Jenna asked.

“Yes. Lucky and Colton too,” Molly said, smiling as she bit back her own tears.

“Best family ever,” Jenna whispered.

“I’ll second that,” Tommy added, nudging Molly with his elbow. “Best mom ever.” He wiggled his eyebrows cheekily at her.

“Mom?” Molly started to laugh, shaking her head, and Tommy laughed too. “Oh, no. No, no, no. Not mom. Friendly aunt. Big sister. Definitely not Mom.”

“Sure thing, Mom,” Jenna replied, giggling.

Molly pointed into the undergrowth, trying to change the subject and still fighting the laughter in her belly. “Didn’t you say we’re heading this way, Tommy?”

“Absolutely, Mom,” Tommy said loudly, causing Jenna to burst into a fit of laughter.

Punching him lightly on the shoulder, Molly shook her head at him. As Jenna strode out a little ahead, Molly looked at Tommy and nodded. “Thanks,” she said, gesturing to Jenna. “For making her laugh.”

“No problem—"

“Ah.” Molly held up her palm. “Don’t you dare say it. I might be old enough to be Jenna’s mom, but I’m definitely not old enough to be yours.”

Tommy grinned. “Whatever you say,” he replied. “But I guess if you were the mom, then that would make Colton the dad. Right?” He waited for a moment, clearly enjoying the pink heat that was creeping up Molly’s neck, then jogged off ahead to catch up with Jenna.

Molly smiled to herself and hugged her arms around her waist. Perhaps the Bankses leaving wasn’t the end of the world after all. Perhaps it would simply bring the rest of them closer together.

She released a satisfied sigh, then shook her shoulders and upped her pace.

Everything was going to work out. She had a good feeling.

33

COLTON

Colton tapped his fingers on his coffee cup. He was on the porch. It was mid-morning and it was noticeably colder than it had been since they’d arrived. Fall was well and truly in motion, which meant winter wouldn’t be far behind, and there was still far too much to do.

Although he agreed it was a good idea to scope out other cabins in the area, he hadn’t realized Molly intended on traveling quite so far.

“We’ll be gone a few days,” she’d said. “We’ll get the Bankses situated, then we’ll head a little farther out. Look for anyone within a day’s walk of us.”

At that point, he’d almost volunteered to go with her, but then he’d noticed Joe. Skulking in the background like he always did. Listening. Watching.

No way was he going to leave any of the kids alone with this guy, and they couldn’t all go trekking off into the woods leaving the cabin deserted. So he’d stayed.

Reaching down, Colton rubbed his knee and flexed it back and forth. Despite the sun, he’d woken that morning to a chill in the air. The damp wasn’t helping either; they’d done their best to dry out the cabin after the storm, but inevitably some of it was still trapped inside the floorboards. It was making his knee throb.

In fact, it had woken him two nights running. The first night, Molly had been beside him. He’d watched her sleep for a while and eventually drifted back off.

Last night, however, she wasn’t there. She was out in the woods, camping under the trees or in an abandoned cabin somewhere en route to the Bankses’ new cabin, and he’d been surprised—and unsettled—by how much he longed for her company.

Again, when he woke properly after a fitful few hours trying to get back to sleep, he’d thought about her. It had been a long time since he’d wished anyone was in his bed when he opened his eyes in the morning. Usually his first thought was his knee, followed by coffee, and then a list of tasks that needed to be done.

This morning, he’d thought first of Molly’s face. Then the knee. Then coffee.

Now, sipping his coffee, he finally started to reel through the jobs he wanted to get done before the others returned. The roof was done. He wanted to try and fix the elevator at some point, just because it was useful, but it wasn’t a priority. There was their wood store, of course—that was an ongoing concern.

He was taking another large sip, wondering whether to break the rules and make a second cup since the others weren’t here for their rations, when Lucky trotted outside.

“Morning,” he said, yawning and pushing his hair from his face. “I need a haircut.”

“I can do that for you later,” Colton said, rubbing his palm over his own hair. Longer than he was used to, but not too out of shape. “Have you eaten?”

Lucky nodded. “Joe and Zack are just finishing.”

At the mention of Joe, Colton’s jaw twitched and Lucky noticed it.

“You don’t like him, do you?”

Colton stood up straighter and shrugged. “I don’t know him well enough to know whether I like him.” He paused, unsure whether he should share his thoughts with a teenager. Lucky was watching him patiently. Colton almost chuckled to himself. Somehow, since they’d arrived at the cabin, a fifteen-year-old pyromaniac had become the closest thing he had to a best friend. What more evidence did he need that the world had turned itself completely upside down?

“You’ve got a feeling about him, though, right?” Lucky asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Colton replied. “I have, and I think we need to figure out where he came from before we decide whether we can trust him.”

“Have you asked him what happened?”

“He wasn’t exactly forthcoming.” Colton looked into the dregs of his coffee, then back at Lucky. He stopped short of telling Lucky that Joe had all but threatened to expose them all when he’d attempted to find answers. “Do you remember where you found him?”

Lucky nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Could you take me there?” Colton had lowered his voice and angled himself away from the window. An instinctive habit he’d picked up because he always felt as if Joe might be right around a corner eavesdropping.

“’Course,” Lucky nodded. “Shall I ask Zack?”

Colton paused. Before he could answer, however, the door opened and Zack emerged from inside. Hair floppy, yawning like Lucky, he walked slowly over and slung his arms over the railing while he stared out at the woods.

“Zack,” Colton said quietly. “What do you think about Joe?”

Zack frowned. “Joe?” He shrugged. “He’s okay.”

“I think we need to figure out where he came from. Lucky’s going to take me to the place where you found him. I think you should come with us. I don’t want you here alone with him.”

Standing up, taller and skinnier than Lucky but with eyes that told Colton he was older and wiser than his years, Zack narrowed his eyes a little and glanced back at the cabin. “I’m not scared of him. He’s harmless. Besides, I can handle myself. If you don’t trust him, it’s probably not a good idea to leave him here alone.”

“Zack’s right. Plus, won’t he think it’s weird if we all go off without him? If you and I go we can just say we’re off hunting.”

“I’ll get him to help me build a wood store. That was next on our list, right? He was pretty handy with the roof, so it’ll keep him busy.” Zack was already heading back for the door, picking up the ax from where it had been left hung up on the porch.

“All right, but—” Colton was about to tell him to be careful but Zack shook his head.

“I can handle it,” he said. “I survived years of dealing with my mom’s druggie boyfriends and being alone with a bunch of prisoners back at Fairfield.”

Zack’s frankness made Lucky inhale sharply. “He’s right, Colton. He can handle himself.” Lucky tugged on Colton’s sleeve.

“All right. Let’s go.” He tipped his head toward the woods, then looked at Zack and nodded. “If anything happens, you yell. Loud. Got it?”

“Got it.” Zack weighed the ax up and down in his hands. “Yell and use the ax.”

“Try to avoid using the ax,” Colton said, almost smiling.

Zack gave a half-salute, then pushed open the door. As he walked inside, Colton and Lucky hurried down the front steps and into the woods.

“This way.” Lucky pointed into the trees. “Follow me.”

* * *

A short way into the woods, Colton stopped dead in his tracks. “Listen,” he said, holding up a finger. “I hear something.”

Lucky paused, foot hovering just above the ground. Slowly, he lowered it. Thankfully, he didn’t slam it down on a twig.

Colton strained his ears; there was a rustling in the shrubs nearby. He crouched down, ignoring the lightning rod of pain in his leg. He beckoned for Lucky to do the same and slowly picked up a stone.

Lucky was watching him with wide eyes but Colton kept his index finger raised, indicating the kid should absolutely not move. Then there it was—a rabbit. It bounced out from the undergrowth, then stopped in its tracks when it saw Colton. Quick as a flash, Colton took aim and threw his stone.

Just as he’d intended, it hit the rabbit’s head and the creature flopped to the ground. Lucky gasped. “Cool.”

Colton inhaled slowly. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with killing animals this way, but he knew enough about surviving to know that if you came across food, you took it.

“I had no idea you could kill stuff like that,” Lucky said, picking up the rabbit by its back foot.

“It’s surprisingly easy to kill things,” Colton replied, taking the rabbit from Lucky and carrying it upside down by its feet.

“Can you teach me? Like you taught me with the ducks?” Lucky bounced on ahead, acting as if they were on a fun day trip rather than an information-finding mission.

“Sure,” Colton replied. “Not today, though.”

“You know,” Lucky interrupted, as always barely stopping for breath between sentences. “This is probably what it would have been like if I had a brother. A big brother. I can see why Zack was so upset when Tommy went to prison. If they were like this and then Tommy disappeared, that must have sucked. Wanna be my honorary big brother?” Lucky was grinning, and patted Colton’s shoulder with his palm.

“Big brother? I’m old enough to be your father,” Colton snorted.

He’d expected Lucky to laugh and say something like Okay then, Pop. But he didn’t. His smile dropped and he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I already have a dad,” he muttered. “Well, had a dad.”

Colton cleared his throat. He could do practical advice. He could do distracting the kid, teaching him stuff, even sharing his thoughts about Joe. What he couldn’t do was the deep stuff. He’d never done that. “So,” he said eventually, “is it much farther?”

“That way.” Lucky pointed to the trees. Colton squinted. “What’s that? Hanging in that tree?”

“Oh, ribbons,” Lucky said. “It was Scarlett’s idea. We put colored ribbons at different points, to help guide us back to the cabin if we ever got lost.”

“You did this in other places?” Colton had stopped beneath the tree and was staring up at it, an uneasy knot of dread forming in his stomach.

“Yeah,” Lucky smiled, although still not as enthusiastically as he had been before they’d gotten on to the subject of his father. “Cool, huh?”

Colton nodded slowly. He wanted to pull the ribbons down. He wanted to tell Lucky it was a pretty dumb idea to leave signposts to their location that anyone could find, that the kids should have asked the adults before doing something like this, but Lucky was still smarting from thinking about his dad. So Colton gritted his teeth and left the ribbon where it was; he’d deal with that later. First, they needed to concentrate on Joe.

“There it is.” Lucky had walked ahead a few paces and was pointing down at something. “He was in this gully.”

Colton walked over, rubbing his thigh because the pain in his knee was vibrating upwards.

“Okay,” he said, peering over the ridge down into the gully. “Where was he? Exactly.”

“See that overhang there?” Lucky crouched a little and pointed. “We actually didn’t see him at first because he was tucked in there, but he was in a red T-shirt and Tommy spotted him.” Lucky stood up and shrugged. “Took us a while to get him out. His arm was wrapped around a root.”

Colton nodded but was stroking his chin with his index finger. “How would a man who rolled down a hill get wedged underneath the overhang unless he’d done it himself?”

“Why would he do it himself?” Lucky asked.

“If he was hiding from something,” Colton said. “Or someone.”

Colton stood back and leaned against a tree. They knew Joe had a bullet wound. He’d told Molly he was running and was shot but didn’t remember why. That could still be true. He was running, got shot, and hid, but why?

“Colton?” Lucky had walked away from the gully and was calling to him.

“Just a minute.” Colton shook his head. He was trying to think.

“Colton, I think you should see this.” Lucky was waving at him now.

Reluctantly, Colton walked over. Lucky gestured to the tree in front of him.

“Isn’t that a bullet hole?” he asked.

Colton inched closer and squinted at it. “Yeah,” he said, “it is.” He walked a little farther. Another bullet hole in another tree. And farther. Another. Then his foot caught on something. He looked down. A sneaker.

“What is it?” Lucky moved to pick it up but Colton caught hold of his wrist. “Isn’t that Joe’s other shoe? He was only wearing one when we found him.” Lucky peered at it. It was half covered with leaves, sodden from the storm, but when Colton picked it up, Lucky gasped and said, “Isn’t that blood? On the shoe?”

Colton stood up and held the sneaker in front of him. It was blood. Faint, diluted by the rain, but still visible on the parts that had been hidden by leaves. “If he got shot in the leg when he was running, why is there blood on his shoe?” Colton muttered.

“Ah, Colton.” Lucky tugged on his sleeve. His face had drained of its color and his fingers were trembling.

Colton followed his gaze.

“Why are there two dead bodies in front of us?” Lucky whispered.

Colton’s grip loosened. The bloodied shoe fell to the ground. “I have no idea, but I’m afraid Joe has something to do with it.”

“Joe who’s alone with Zack?”

Colton was already turning back in the direction they’d come from. “Come on, Lucky, let’s go!”

34

MOLLY

“That’s three. All empty.” Tommy leaned against the side of the abandoned cabin and took a sip of water from his bottle. “This one looks in okay shape. We should see if there’s anything useful inside.”

Molly shook her head. “We said right from the beginning we wouldn’t do that.”

“We took stuff to make Laura’s elevator,” Jenna cut in. “Why’s this any different?”

“Because that stuff was from a cabin that was totally abandoned. A ruin. This place is perfectly habitable. Someone could turn up to live here.”

“Molly, I get it, but we’ve also got to think of ourselves.”

“We’re on a good-will mission. We’re out here to find people to connect with. To build a community, not take things that don’t belong to us.”

“But we have the wagon. It makes sense—” Tommy was getting frustrated. Molly could see it on his face.

“We should press on. We’ll talk it through when we’re back at Raccoon’s Nest and see what the others say. Then we can do a return trip if we all agree.” Molly nodded as if the matter was settled, but Tommy still looked unsure.

“There’s another cabin just through the trees.” Jenna had walked a little way away from them and was clearly trying to stop their discussion from turning into an argument. “It has washing hung up outside.”

“It does?” Molly hurried over, following Jenna’s gaze. “That’s amazing, Jenna. Well done.” She gestured for Tommy to follow them. “Come on, Tommy. We found people. People!”

Tommy sighed, looked wistfully at the cabin they were leaving behind, but eventually followed. On the piece of paper he’d been carrying, which they’d been using to mark out a map of the area, he drew a cabin symbol with a circle around it. “In case we come back to it,” he muttered as Molly glanced at the map.

Undeterred, too excited by the thought of finding people, the kind of people who hung their washing on a line outside, Molly nodded and charged forward.

When they reached the next cabin, they stopped. It had a red front door. Two trucks were parked outside, one old and rusty, one new and shiny. There was a pen full of chickens and smoke billowing from the chimney.

“Nice set-up,” Jenna said, raising her eyebrows.

“They must be homesteaders,” Molly said, admiring the neatness of the cabin. “Looks like they lived here before the power went out.”

“Just because they’re people, doesn’t mean they’re going to be open to guests.” Tommy put his hand on Molly’s arm. “We should be careful.”

“I’ll go knock,” Jenna offered, stepping forward. “Who’s going to feel threatened by a kid?”

Molly tilted her head from side to side but eventually agreed. “All right,” she said. “But be careful.”

Before Jenna could move, however, the cabin door swung open. “Who are you?” came an elderly voice from inside. “What do you want?”

“We don’t mean any harm,” Molly replied, gesturing for Tommy to put down his gun. “We’re staying at my grandfather’s cabin a few miles away. We came looking for neighbors. Friends.”

As they waited, a man and woman—old with silvery hair and each holding a rifle—stepped out onto their porch. For a moment, they assessed Molly, Tommy and Jenna, then eventually lowered their weapons. The man beckoned for them to come closer.

“We don’t have any supplies to share,” the man said, walking to the edge of his veranda.

“Oh, no.” Molly lifted her hands, palms outwards. “We don’t want to take anything from you, sir, ma’am. We simply wanted to make contact and tell you that we’re nearby if you need anything.”

“Raccoon’s Nest,” Jenna said. “The cabin’s named Raccoon’s Nest.”

“Four miles south of here,” Tommy said, walking forward and holding up the map, even though the couple could surely barely see it from where they were standing.

“Come up here and have some tea with us.” The woman put her hand on her husband’s shoulder and nodded at him. “It’s okay, Bill, they look like good people.”

Bill hesitated. He looked at Molly and the others, then back at his wife. “All right,” he said. “Come on up.”

* * *

A short while later, Molly smiled broadly as Janet and Bill offered them cups of tea with milk and a plate of cookies. “I feel like we’re doing something normal,” Molly said, holding the cookie to her mouth and breathing in its scent before biting off a chunk.

“Well, this is normal for us,” Janet said as she sat down in a large high-backed armchair. “We’ve lived here for a long time. We didn’t even realize the electricity had gone out until we went into town one day.”

“You made it to town?” Jenna’s eyes widened. “That’s a long walk.”

“Oh no, dear, we took the truck.” Janet smiled but Bill squeezed her hand and shook his head at her.

“I told you not to mention the truck,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Your truck works?” Molly glanced at Tommy. “That’s amazing.”

“Thought it might,” Tommy added. “The older one, right?”

“Don’t worry.” Molly put down her tea and laced her fingers together in her lap. “We won’t tell anyone you have a working vehicle, but Janet, Bill’s probably right. That’s not the kind of information you want to throw around.”

Bill was nodding solemnly, but Janet shook her head at them both. “Oh, you’re being over-dramatic. Who’s going to steal a truck from an elderly couple in the woods?”

“You’d be surprised,” Tommy said. “We’ve been through some things that would surprise you.” Then, to Molly’s surprise, he stood up and said to Bill, “Why don’t I help you move it? Bring it round the back and cover it with branches.”

“I’ll help.” Jenna stood up too.

Bill hesitated. “I…” He was finding it hard to trust them, which was sensible, but as he looked at the three of them, he pushed himself up from his seat and began to walk to the kitchen. “I’ll fetch the keys.”

With the others gone, Molly accepted another tea from Janet, then helped her make sandwiches for everyone.

“You have tomatoes?” Molly’s eyes widened as Janet passed her a basket of vegetables.

“Oh, yes, dear. We grow all our own vegetables.” Janet picked up a tomato and started slicing it.

Molly took one from the basket and pressed it to her nose. Breathing it in, she sighed. How long had it been since she smelled fresh vegetables?

When the others returned, they looked out of breath but Bill and Tommy were laughing. Clearly, they’d made friends. “Thank you, young man.” Bill patted Tommy on the back and Tommy offered Molly a look that said he was pleased with himself, both for helping and for aiding their search for allies. Surely, now, Bill and Janet could be counted as part of their wider community.

As they sat down, Molly accepted a sandwich and watched as Tommy bit straight into his without even hesitating. Jenna too seemed almost to melt with happiness as she ate her food. “Oh!” she said, rolling her eyes. “I don’t remember tomatoes tasting this good. Why do they taste this good?”

“Right?” Molly said as she bit into her own sandwich. “This is something we’ll need to master. Growing things.”

“Don’t you need seeds for growing things?” Tommy asked.

As Molly opened her mouth and closed it again, her brief dreams of starting their own vegetable patch crushed, Janet flicked her hand at them. “Oh, well, we can give you some seeds, my dears. We have a seed store in the basement.”

As she spoke, she looked at Bill, clearly worried she’d once again over-shared. This time, however, Bill smiled at her. “Absolutely,” he said. “Wait there.”

A few minutes later, he returned with a brown paper bag that he presented to Molly. “Tomatoes, carrots, onions, lettuce, and radishes.” He turned around and walked to a bookshelf nearby, ran his finger along the books’ spines, then picked one out. “And instructions on how to grow them.” He handed it to Tommy and after a pause said, “Why don’t you stay the night? Get your energy back up before you head home?”

Molly glanced at Tommy. She wanted to stay. He did too. It was warm here, and comfortable, and a little slice of normality. She’d spotted a large tin bathtub. Perhaps Janet and Bill would let her have a bath. But then she thought of the others back at the cabin and her smile dropped a little. “I’m sorry,” she said, taking Janet’s hands between hers. “We’d love to, but we need to keep looking for more cabins and then get back to our friends.”

Janet’s shoulders dropped but she squeezed Molly’s hands. “Of course,” she said. “We understand. Here, take some bread for your journey.” From the counter, she handed Molly the remainder of the loaf they’d used to make the sandwiches, wrapped in a white cloth.

“Thank you.” Molly tucked the bread into her backpack along with the seeds, and watched as Tommy carefully packed his book.

On the porch, Bill gestured to the gun they’d left outside. “Don’t forget your weapon,” he said.

“I think there’s a cabin with people about a mile that way,” Janet added. “We haven’t made contact, but you could try.”

“Thank you.” Molly waved. Jenna and Tommy waved too. “Thank you both so much.”

As they reached the next cabin, however, it soon became very clear that they were not going to be welcome.

“Clear off!” a shout came from somewhere inside as they approached.

“Get out of here!” another voice, closer, and then a gunshot. Fired into the air, but enough to send them running through the trees.

“Well,” Molly panted as they stopped in a clearing. “One out of two isn’t bad. At least Bill and Janet didn’t try to kill us.”

Rolling his eyes at her, Tommy put his hand on Molly’s shoulder. “Always the optimist.”

Molly brushed down her clothes, then checked their map. “Let’s keep going this way, then we’ll circle round and be back on track toward home.”

Tommy breathed out slowly. He was tired, and Jenna was too. They were clearly all wishing they’d stayed with Janet and Bill.

“Come on.” Molly tucked her arm through Jenna’s. “One last push and then we’ll stop, I promise.”

As she’d promised, when they reached the next cabin—after an hour’s walk through thick woods—Molly finally agreed they could rest for the night.

“So, we can pause the friend-seeking mission for now? It’s going to be dark soon.” Tommy said, folding his arms and shuddering against the chill that seemed to have come from nowhere.

Molly looked up at the sky. He was right. It was already darkening. “All right. This place is empty, so we might as well camp here for the night.”

“So, it’s okay to camp here but not to take any of their stuff?” Tommy asked pointedly.

“You’re still not letting that go, huh?” Molly laughed. “No we are not taking their stuff but yes we are sleeping under their roof so we don’t get rained on or eaten by forest creatures.”

“Forest creatures?” Jenna raised her eyebrows. “That’s specific.”

Slinging her arm around Jenna’s shoulders, Molly clicked her tongue at her. “Just get yourself inside, Miss Cruz, before I change my mind.”

35

COLTON

Colton had been pacing up and down outside for far too long. Zack and Joe were cutting logs outside, each holding an ax.

“What are we doing?” Lucky hissed. “Are you going to talk to him?”

“Yeah, but I’d like to wait until he’s put his weapon down,” Colton hissed back. Instinctively he reached for his belt, but knew before his fingers reached it that he wasn’t carrying his gun.

Stupid. He’d been too distracted by Molly. No, it wasn’t her fault. It was his. He’d been distracted. Full stop. By her. By Joe. He’d let himself slip and he’d gone off into the woods without a weapon or any supplies. What if they’d come across someone? What if something had attacked him and Lucky?

“I’ve had enough of this.” Lucky suddenly reached out and snatched the rabbit from Colton’s hand. Before Colton could stop him, Lucky strode out of the trees and waved the rabbit in the air. “Look what we caught! Rabbit for supper?”

Joe looked up. He didn’t smile but put down his ax. “Heck yes,” he said, wiping his arm across his forehead. “Zack’s had me doing this all afternoon. He’s a real tough guy.”

Zack hadn’t put down his ax, but was looking at Lucky as if he was trying to interpret whether things had gone well or badly in the woods.

“Shall we get the stove going and skin this?” Lucky asked. “Zack, you’re good at skinning meat, right?”

“Wouldn’t say I was good at it, but I don’t mind it.”

As Colton shoved his hands into his pockets and looked Joe up and down, Joe glanced over at him. Could he tell something was going on? Maybe, but he wasn’t showing it.

“I’ll help.” Colton started walking toward the cabin. “Let’s get inside. It’ll be dark soon.”

As they sat down to their rabbit, Colton held his fork tightly in his hand and watched Joe carefully. “So, you two spent the whole day chopping wood?”

“Not the whole day,” Joe replied tightly. “We spent some time trying to figure out how to create an early warning system with some of the old cans and bottles we’ve got.”

“An early warning system? For animals?” Colton asked.

“Yeah, animals.” Joe shrugged and looked at the window. He was always looking at the darn windows.

It was the last straw. Slamming his fist onto the table, Colton scraped his chair back and in one swift movement was around the table, grabbing Joe by his shirt and slamming him up against the wall.

Joe’s eyes widened. He began to stutter. “Hey, man, what the hell?”

“I’ve had enough of you,” Colton growled. “I’ve had enough of your lies. What are you hiding from?” He slammed Joe a second time, not caring that the boys were watching.

“Just tell us.” Lucky had stood up. “We know you’re not telling the truth. We found your sneaker in the woods covered in blood.”

“And two dead bodies,” Colton added, not releasing his grip.

“You found…” The color drained from Joe’s face. His body went floppy.

Instinctively, Colton let go as Joe dropped to the floor.

“You found them?”

“Who are they?” Colton stood back, hands on hips.

Without getting up from the floor, Joe buried his head in his hands. “They’re my friends,” he whispered.

* * *

When Joe started sobbing, Colton heaved him up from the floor and deposited him on the couch. Lucky handed him a glass of water.

“I was in jail.” Joe’s voice was low and cracked as he spoke.

Lucky and Zack looked at one another.

“Fairfield.” Joe scraped his hair back. “I shouldn’t have been in there. I’m not that kind of person.”

“What did you do?” Zack asked bluntly.

Breathing out through trembling lips, Joe shook his head. “I killed someone.”

“Not that kind of person? But you killed someone?” Lucky asked, but while the boys seemed ready to handcuff Joe or throw him out, Colton wasn’t. The hardness Joe had shown when he squared up to Colton a few days ago had evaporated the second he was challenged. Now he looked broken, and Colton knew what pain looked like.

“I didn’t mean to. There was a storm. I was driving. I hit her. I wasn’t drinking. I wasn’t on drugs, but I panicked. I ran. Her family, they were rich. Really rich. They wanted me put away for a long time and that’s what they got.”

Colton sucked in his breath. That explained Joe’s reaction to the storm. “So, you escaped from Fairfield when the EMP hit?” Colton asked.

Joe nodded. “This guy, Luther. He took over running the place when this other guy, Dougie, was shot. Dougie was tough but he wasn’t evil. Luther, though.” Joe shuddered. “When he took charge, things got bad real quick. They hoarded supplies. People were starving. Then the generator went out and, well, there was no reason to stay.”

At the mention of Dougie, Zack had started to tap his fingers against his upper thigh. Lucky moved a little closer to his friend but didn’t say anything.

“We’d heard about this ‘bogeyman’ running around in the woods shooting prisoners, but we thought it was just Luther making up stories to scare us into staying. So, me and a few guys escaped. Hid out in town for a while.” Joe scratched his fingers on a couch cushion he was holding in front of him. “Then he came for us.”

“Who came for you?” Colton sat down on the coffee table and leaned forward onto his knees.

“The bogeyman.” Joe’s eyes widened. He looked at the windows and shivered. “A guard from Fairfield. Victor Fox. It was him. He was chasing down escaped prisoners and…” Joe swallowed, looking down at his hands. “Killing them or arresting them. Depending on their crimes.”

“Shi-oot,” Lucky caught himself, then looked apologetically at Colton, who hated kids cursing.

“We hid in the woods but he found us. He shot my friend Jim right in front of me. Then Franko.” Joe blinked hard as tears ran down his cheeks. “Then I ran and he shot me too. It was dark but he had a flashlight. He came after me. I jumped down into the gully and hid.” He looked from Lucky to Zack. “Then you found me and brought me here.”

As the boys sat down too on the other end of the couch from Joe, Colton shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell us this sooner?”

“I should have. I know that, but if you’d found out I was a felon--that I was a convicted murderer--would you have let me stay?”

Colton pressed his lips together. Molly would have let him stay. She’d have heard his story and her heart would have ached for him.

“I’m sorry I lied to you, and I’m sorry for the way I behaved before. I just didn’t want you to throw me out. This is the only place I’ve ever felt safe.” At that, to Colton’s shock, Joe folded onto his knees on the floor and pressed his palms together as if he was praying. “Please,” he begged. “Don’t send me out there alone. He’ll find me. He’ll kill me.”

Colton looked away. He couldn’t look at the pained expression on Joe’s face and make a clear-headed decision.

“Molly would let him stay,” Lucky whispered.

“I know,” Colton replied.

“We can’t send him out there to die, and he did help us with the roof,” Zack said.

Colton breathed in deeply through his nose and held the air in his lungs for a moment. “All right,” he said. “I’m not promising anything, but when the others return we’ll tell them the truth, and we’ll vote. All right? It’ll be down to all of us whether you stay. Molly, Jenna and Tommy get a say too. Not just us three.”

Joe was nodding. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

As Colton helped him up, he nodded at him. “It’ll be all right,” he said. “We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” a voice cut through the air in the cabin. At the same time, a cold wind whipped inside, and the door clattered on its hinges.

Joe staggered back. Lucky and Zack froze. Colton’s fingers twitched as he reached for his gun.

In front of him, Diego Cruz stepped to one side as four armed men filed in after him. Each held a shotgun. Each gun was pointed at them.

“It’s him,” Joe whispered.

Colton looked at him, then back at the door. As he did, he realized Joe wasn’t talking about Diego. He was talking about Victor Fox. The guard from the prison. Sauntering in after the armed guards, Victor was holding a large binder in his hands.

“Looks like we’re both in luck,” he said to Diego.

“Yes,” Diego replied, grinning. “It looks like we are.”

36

MOLLY

Molly woke with an aching back. The couch in the cabin they’d camped in was unbelievably hard and had left her sore and stiff.

Tommy and Jenna were awake too, tucking into a slice each of the bread Janet had given them.

“Here.” Jenna held out a piece for Molly. “It’s a little stale but it’s still bread.”

Molly rubbed her temples. She’d never been a breakfast person, but knew she needed fuel for the day ahead. “Thank you,” she said, biting into it and trying to tell her stomach to enjoy it.

“We’re starting toward home today, right?” Tommy asked, clearly worried she was going to suggest they go farther north.

“Right.” Molly stood up, bracing her lower back with her hands and stretching from side to side. “We’ll head for home and if we come across anyone on the way, we can investigate. If not, we’ll be back by nightfall.”

“Good.” Jenna stood up too and started to pack her bag. “I miss it. Is that weird?”

Molly smiled at her, scraping her hair back into a ponytail while holding her bread between her teeth. When she’d tied the ponytail, she removed the bread and said, “No, it’s not weird.”

“Come on, then.” Tommy was already heaving his bag onto his shoulders. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

“You haven’t loaded up your pockets with anything, have you?” Molly asked as they trekked back out into the woods.

“No, I left the place intact.” Tommy waved his map at her. “But I marked it as a potentially good scavenging spot in case you change your mind.”

“Good.” Molly adjusted her pack and brushed down her pants. “Then let’s keep moving.”

They’d been walking for a little over an hour when they reached another cabin. They were closer together out here and, despite longing for neighbors, Molly was secretly relieved that their cabin seemed to be far enough away from anyone else.

“I can hear someone chopping wood,” Jenna said, hurrying forward.

“Be careful. Remember what happened at the last place.” Molly caught up with her and pulled Jenna’s arm to stop her running too far ahead.

When they reached the cabin, however, they were greeted by a group that looked remarkably similar to their own. Mainly young people, perhaps college age. They’d been chatting and working but looked up when they saw Molly and Jenna.

As Tommy appeared, the group tensed.

Molly gestured for him to put his gun down.

“We have weapons,” a girl said, stepping to the front of the group.

“Oh, I’m glad about that,” Molly said to her. “But we don’t mean any harm. We live a few miles away and we’re just looking for others in the area. To make contact and say we’re here if you need any help.”

The girl looked back at her friends. “Right,” she said. “Cool.”

“You guys alone out here?” Tommy had put his gun back into his jeans and was looking around at the cabin.

“Six of us,” the girl said.

At that, a couple of guys joined her, still holding their axes.

“I’m Molly.” Molly stepped forward and extended her hand. When no one took it, she added, “This is Tommy and this is Jenna. We’re from town, but we’ve taken up residence at my grandfather’s old cabin.”

“You’re related?” one of the guys asked.

Molly tilted her head at the slightly odd question.

“Not exactly,” Jenna answered before Molly had the chance to signal that she shouldn’t. “Molly was my teacher and Tommy’s my friend’s older brother.”

“Teacher?” The guy looked at his friends.

The girl who’d spoken first looked from Molly to Jenna. As she did, her eyes widened. “Sorry,” she said, “you should go. We’re not interested in being friends.”

“Is everything all right?” Although Tommy seemed happy to walk away as requested, something wasn’t sitting right in Molly’s gut. Something was going on here; she didn’t like the way they’d looked at her and Jenna. “Why did you ask if we’re related?”

As the girl opened her mouth, one of the guys shook his head at her. “Leave it,” he whispered. “We’re not getting involved.”

She looked at him for a moment, then breathed in slowly and said, “Sorry, Ben’s right. You should leave.”

Tommy gestured for Molly to do as they were asked. “Come on. They’re not psychopaths, they just don’t want us here.”

Molly hesitated. Everything in her body was screaming at her that she should push the girl further, but then she noticed one of the guys reaching for his belt. They were being polite now, but that didn’t mean it would stay that way. “Okay,” she said. “I’m sorry we bothered you. We’re due south of here if you ever need anything.”

They’d reached the edge of the woods when they heard Ben shout, “Sophie, don’t.”

“I’m sorry.” The girl, who must be called Sophie, caught up with them and stopped in front of Molly. “I’m sorry but I think you should know—"

“Know what?” Molly frowned.

Sophie looked hesitantly at Jenna, then back at Molly. “Someone was here yesterday morning asking about his daughter.”

A sickening heat crept through Molly’s arms.

“He seemed real upset. Said she’d run off with this schoolteacher who’d brainwashed her to think her family didn’t love her. Said he’d been searching for weeks.”

Molly’s knees weakened. Next to her, Jenna let out a small cry. “My dad’s here? He’s looking for me?”

“He wasn’t alone,” the girl said. “He had a map, but they were having trouble interpreting it.”

“They?” Molly moved forward, looking into Sophie’s eyes as if they might show her a picture of what had happened.

“He was with a big guy in uniform, maybe a prison guard? And some other guys with guns.” Sophie shuddered. “We were pretty scared but we didn’t know anything, so they just moved on.”

Molly breathed out a long heavy beath. Tommy had put his arm around Jenna.

“Thank you.” Molly blinked at Sophie. “Thank you for telling us.” Then she turned to the others. “We have to go. Now.”

As they ran back into the thick trees, Molly’s mind was racing. If Diego was here yesterday, he could have made it to the cabin by now, and Sophie said he was with others. Others with guns. She gritted her teeth. They should have told Hicks to lock Diego up and throw away the key.

She was trying to stop herself imagining all the terrifying scenarios that could be taking place right now back at the cabin when Tommy shouted for her.

“Molly, wait. It’s Jenna.”

Turning on her heels, Molly scanned the trees and spotted Tommy. He was crouched down in front of Jenna, who was on the ground. Sitting at the base of a large pine tree, she’d wrapped her arms around her knees and was rocking back and forth.

“Jenna, it’s okay.” Tommy looked up at Molly, eyes wide, clearly unsure what to do. “What’s wrong with her? Did she hurt herself.”

As Molly moved beside Tommy, she put her hand on Jenna’s shoulder. Jenna looked up at her. She was panting. Her face was deathly pale. Clutching at her chest, she shook her head and managed to say, “I… can’t… breathe….”

“Jenna,” Molly said slowly, “you’re okay. I think you’re having a panic attack. Look at me and focus on your breathing. One, two, three, that’s it, in… and out….”

As Jenna’s breathing steadied a little, she began to shake. Tears sprang to her eyes, and then she was sobbing.

Stepping back as if he was intruding on something, Tommy braced his hands behind his neck. He looked angry. Not with Jenna. With a father who could elicit this kind of response in his daughter.

“Jenna,” Molly said firmly, “I’m sorry, but we have to go. I promise you, we will not let your father hurt you.”

Jenna nodded. After a pause, she nodded again, inhaled sharply, then clambered to her feet. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I just—”

“Don’t apologize. I understand. Now, look, I’d suggest we leave you here or go back and leave you with Jean and Bill, but we don’t know where your father is and I think we’re safer together.” She looked at Tommy, who moved closer.

“I agree,” he said.

“So, do you think you can do this?” Molly met Jenna’s eyes. “Because I believe you can. I believe you’re stronger than you think you are and definitely stronger than your father thinks you are.”

Jenna looked from Molly to Tommy. “Lucky’s back there,” she said quietly.

“And Zack,” Tommy added.

Straightening her shoulders, Jenna sucked in her cheeks and flexed her fingers at her sides. “I can do this,” she said. “As long as you’re with me.”

“You bet I’m with you.” Molly pulled Jenna toward her and squeezed her shoulder. “We’re all with you.”

Jenna smiled. “Okay then. Let’s go.”

37

MOLLY

By the time they reached the cabin, Molly’s legs were about ready to give out from underneath her. They’d walked without stopping for six hours, but they were finally there. Allowing herself a moment to catch her breath, Molly gestured to Jenna. “Get rid of those.”

Jenna was holding a handful of ribbons. Ribbons Molly had no idea the kids had been using to help them navigate through the woods but which now seemed like a glaring beacon for Diego in his hunt for Jenna. She only hoped he’d gone in the opposite direction from the cabin. If his map was useless, it was a possibility.

“Everything looks normal,” Jenna said, peering up at the cabin.

“No, it doesn’t.” Molly wrapped her arms around herself. “If everything was normal, Colton and the boys would be out here working.”

“Maybe they’re eating.” Tommy looked up at the sky. “It’s getting late. They could have finished for the day.”

“There’s no smoke. The fire’s out. That’s not normal.” Molly tried to calm the nerves in her gut. Her entire body was tense, and her thoughts were moving too quickly. Just as she was about to suggest going to look before charging inside, there was movement in one of the windows.

“Oh no,” Jenna breathed. “It’s him. It’s my dad.”

Molly’s blood went cold as the shadowy figure of Diego Cruz moved slowly in front of the kitchen window. “He’s already inside.” Molly looked at Tommy. “What do we do?”

“We only have one gun,” Tommy said. “We know Diego has armed men with him but we don’t know how many.”

“Why don’t we just try and talk to him?” Jenna’s voice interrupted them, small and a little shaky at the idea she was suggesting. “I could go up there. I mean, he’s here for me, isn’t he?”

“No, absolutely not.” Molly shook her head firmly. “You’re not going up there.”

“I can handle him.” Jenna had straightened her shoulders and was trying to sound confident but Molly wasn’t buying it, and she definitely wasn’t letting Jenna face her father alone.

“I’ll sneak over there and look through the window. They won’t see me.” Molly was about to turn around and hurry over to the cabin when Jenna tugged at her arm.

“I think Tommy beat you to it.” She pointed to the shadows where Tommy was sneaking around the side of the cabin.

Ducking down behind a tree and pulling Jenna with her, Molly watched as Tommy slunk through the shadows, below the sightline from the windows, then disappeared.

Molly held her breath and released it slowly, her eyes fixed on the last place she’d seen Tommy. He was gone for what felt like forever but then suddenly reemerged. Staying where he was, he held out his fingers indicating the number six.

“There’s six of them,” Molly muttered.

Glancing up at the cabin, Tommy started to make his way back to them, but just as he reached the open area by the wood-cutting station, the door opened and someone yelled, “Hey! Stop! We’ve got one!”

Tommy froze, stared at Molly for a moment, then bolted for the trees. Running away from the cabin toward the river, he yelled, “I’m armed!”

“Why’s he yelling?” Jenna hissed.

“He’s leading them away from us,” Molly replied, scraping her hands through her hair and tugging at her ponytail. She should go after him, but he was armed. Tommy had their gun. That gave him a chance. Inside, Colton and the boys had nothing for protection.

“I have an idea.” Jenna was shrugging herself out of her jacket. “We need to get in there, right?”

Molly nodded.

“So, we need another diversion.”

“No, you’re not going to put yourself at risk.” She shook her head.

“You’re right. I’m not.” Jenna took her jacket and slung it over some branches that were in clear view of the cabin, then stepped back into the shadows and reached for her backpack. “We make a noise. When they see the jacket, they’ll come out here and we’ll take them by surprise.”

Molly let the idea sink in for a second. “Take them by surprise? With what?”

Jenna was searching the ground in front of them. “With these.” She handed Molly a large broken branch that had come loose in the storm and picked one up herself. “Just like swinging an ax,” she grinned.

Molly weighed the branch up and down in her hands. Two guys, maybe. If three came out? She breathed in sharply. They had to try something. “Okay.” Then before she could talk herself out of it, she raised her voice and yelled, “No, Jenna! You can’t go in there! It’s too dangerous!”

Taking Molly’s lead, Jenna added to her shouts. “I’m going and you can’t stop me!”

Not even a second later, as they ducked farther back into the undergrowth and stopped yelling, the door opened. Diego stepped outside with two other men. Instantly, one of them spotted Jenna’s jacket. “There, boss. Someone’s out there.”

“Then go!” Diego yelled furiously, shoving the guard down the steps. “Get my daughter.”

As the guard walked closer, Molly held her breath. When he reached the jacket, he cursed. Picking it up, he looked into the bushes then back at Diego, who motioned for him to keep going.

Deliberately, Molly coughed. The guy raised his gun and stepped into the trees.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he called out in a sing-song tone.

Molly raised her piece of wood. Jenna did the same. As the guard moved past them, they jumped, whacking him so that he yelled and fell to the ground.

“Get out there,” Diego was shouting to the remaining guard up on the porch.

Molly moved back, holding up her weapon once more, but this time when he stepped into the woods, instead of hitting the guy, Jenna pushed Molly out of the way, yelled “Catch me if you can!” and bolted into the woods in the same direction Tommy went.

Molly’s heart was beating so fast she could barely breathe. What was Jenna thinking? Why would she do that?

On the ground in front of her, the first guard they’d attacked groaned. She reached down to grab his weapon and tossed it into the bushes.

On the porch, Diego had disappeared.

Molly forced herself to exhale. She wanted to help Jenna but the best thing she could do to help her, surely, was convince Diego he was insane for doing this or—if he wouldn’t listen—overpower him.

Gingerly, Molly stepped out of the trees. The door to the cabin was closed. Diego was back inside. She could see his silhouette in the window.

Sneaking around in the same direction Tommy had gone, she kept her weapon tight in her hands. When she reached the basement hatch, it was open; this must be how Tommy got in and got his head count.

Molly crouched down and swung herself inside. With her feet firmly on the floor, she paused and listened. She could hear low voices upstairs. Diego and someone else, but not Colton or the boys or even Joe.

Ascending the stairs, she was about to press her ear to the door when the top step creaked loudly. Molly inhaled sharply. She held her breath but it was too late. The voices inside had gone silent. Seconds later, the door clattered open. Hands reached for her and hauled her into the room. Her tree branch dropped to the floor and someone knocked her feet out from under her so she stumbled and fell to the floor.

“Molly!” It was Colton’s voice. When she looked up, she saw him, Zack and Lucky sitting on the floor in front of the extinguished fire. Their hands were tied. Across the room, Joe was tied up too. All of them were staring at her.

“You’re okay,” Molly breathed, looking at Colton.

“For now,” he replied quietly.

“Where’s the girl?” A voice Molly recognized came from behind her, but it wasn’t Diego. It was Victor.

“Victor Fox, the prison guard?”

“Where is she?” Fox growled, grabbing Molly’s collar and heaving her to her feet.

As Fox looked back at Diego, Molly shook her head. “You really think I’m going to tell you where she is?”

Without even pausing, Victor drew back his hand and slapped Molly across the face.

She stumbled backward.

Victor’s eyes widened, as if he was surprised by his own actions, but when Colton tried to get to his feet, yelling that he was going to kill Victor if he laid another hand on Molly, Victor grabbed her by the arms and kicked Colton in the leg. Right in the knee. His bad knee.

Colton fell back to the ground, unable this time to hide the pain. As he writhed on the floor and Lucky and Zack scooted over to try and help him, Molly tugged out of Victor’s grasp and turned to him.

“I thought you were a prison guard!” She shook her head. “You’re supposed to protect people, not attack people. What are you doing? And Diego? You think this is how you’ll convince Jenna to give you another shot?”

Victor narrowed his eyes at her.

From across the room, Joe mumbled, “Molly, don’t. He’s dangerous.”

Then finally Diego stepped forward. Shoving Victor out of the way as if he meant nothing, Diego shook his fingers as if he was trying to release some tension and tilted his head from side to side. “Mister Fox and I have a deal. He’s helped me to find Jenna. I’ve given him resources to round up criminals like Mister Mullins over there.”

“Criminals?” Molly looked at Joe, who hung his head.

“Lucky for both of us, I suppose, that one of his criminals and my daughter ended up in the same place.”

“You see this?” Victor had stepped forward. He was holding something. Diego rolled his eyes as if he’d heard what Victor was about to say before. “This is a binder full to the brim of men who should be in jail. They escaped, but I’m rectifying that.” Swaggering a little as he walked over to Joe, Victor stabbed his thumb at a page in the binder and said, “Some of them—the not so bad ones—get taken to the police station. Others, the really bad guys, like Mr. Mullins here. Well, they’re dealt with.”

“Executed, you mean!” Joe yelled. His face was red and tears were running down his cheeks. “Well, if that’s what you’re going to do, just get on with it.”

As Joe spoke, rage flashed across Victor’s face. He drew back the binder and slammed it into Joe’s stomach, then across his face, then his shoulders. Joe crumpled into a ball, ducking his head to protect himself.

Molly looked at Diego. “You can’t let him do this.”

“It’s his thing, not mine. I’m here for my daughter.” Diego stepped back, simply watching as Victor took out his anger on Joe.

From behind her, Lucky called out, “What he did was an accident. He didn’t mean to kill that girl. Leave him alone.”

Panting, Victor finally stopped. He looked at Diego and straightened his shirt. “Can you hurry up and get your daughter now so I can finish my business?” He glanced at Joe as he said business.

“What exactly do you think is going to happen when you find Jenna? What are you planning to do?” Molly strode forward and grabbed Diego’s arm. Behind her, Colton called her name, but she ignored him.

“It’s none of your business what I’m going to do! She’s my daughter!” Diego yelled. He pushed his hands through his hair then glared at Victor. “You’re in charge. Don’t kill anyone until I get back.” Then he grabbed Molly’s arm and dragged her from the cabin.

38

MOLLY

When they reached the porch, Diego shoved Molly against the railings and began to pace up and down. Turning to the woods, he called for his guards. No one responded.

Grabbing Molly’s arm, he peered into her face. He was so close she could feel his breath on her cheeks. “Tell me where my daughter is.”

“I genuinely don’t know,” Molly replied. “She was so desperate to get away from you that she ran off into the woods alone.”

Diego straightened his shoulders and drew a deep breath, then looked back at the cabin. His voice was lower. He was changing tactics. “It’s a nice place you’ve got here.” He reached into his pocket and drew out a lighter. “It’d be an awful shame if it went up in flames because you weren’t cooperating.”

“You wouldn’t do that. You’re a fireman. You know what could happen. The whole woods could go up.”

“Not likely,” Diego said. “There’s been some heavy rain and, besides, it’s a risk I’d be willing to take to get my daughter back.”

Molly pressed her lips together. She was not going to say any more. Not a word. Diego examined her face. He waited. When she didn’t speak, he let out a guttural groan, then grabbed her wrist and dragged her down the steps toward the woods. “Which way did she go?” he asked. “Tell me? Jenna! Jenna!”

Molly frowned at him. Something in his voice was different as he called Jenna’s name. “You’re… worried about her?” The words left Molly’s mouth as she was still forming the thoughts. “You’re actually really worried about her?”

Diego was pacing again, this time under the cover of the trees. When he stopped, he noticed Jenna’s jacket on the ground and picked it up. “She’s my daughter,” he said. Molly noticed his fingers tighten on the jacket. “She’s my daughter. I’m supposed to protect her.”

Molly almost scoffed. “Protect her?”

“You think I don’t care about her?” He turned back to Molly, anger returning to his face. “You think I didn’t worry about her every day since she left? Worry about what she was doing out here, about her getting hurt, about her winding up dead without me to keep her safe?”

Molly shook her head. Was he serious? He genuinely thought the way he’d behaved back at the CAL was the way to keep Jenna safe? “If you care for Jenna, this is not the way to show it.”

Diego was looking at her, his eyes scanning her face as if he was trying to understand what she was saying, when behind them a gunshot rang out.

Molly froze. Diego looked from the woods to the house, then ran back into the clearing in front of the cabin just as Victor emerged from inside. “What was that?” Victor asked, trotting down the steps.

Before Diego could answer, however, something moved in the trees and Molly turned to see Jenna and Tommy marching Diego’s men out of the woods.

A flash of something that was almost like pride crossed Diego’s face as he saw his daughter, but almost as soon as it was there it was gone. “Jenna Maria Cruz, come here now.”

Jenna stopped and tilted her head at her father. “No.” She was holding one of the guards’ guns and now marched forward, handing it to Molly who instinctively switched places and grabbed hold of Jenna’s hostage.

For a moment, as Jenna looked at her father, her expression wavered. Doubt flickered in her eyes, but then she looked at Molly and when Molly nodded at her, she straightened herself up and said, “Enough.”

Diego blinked at her.

Jenna shook her head. “You’re my father. I love you, but I’m not going to do this anymore. You don’t own me. You don’t control me, and if you love me you need to find a different way of showing it because running around pointing guns and hurting people isn’t going to get me back in your life.”

Diego’s jaw twitched but then his entire face seemed to drop. “Jenna—”

“You think this is how you earn respect? How you earn love? It’s not. If you want a relationship with me, I’ll consider that, but it’ll be on my terms. And that means no more bullying—me or anyone else.” She looked at Molly and Tommy. “No more hurting people to get your own way. You want me in your life? Prove you’re worth it.” She folded her arms in front of her chest and stared at him. “Well?”

“I want you to come back with me,” Diego said. Although this time, it was more of a plea than a demand.

“No.” Jenna shook her head. “I’m staying and I want you to promise you’ll leave my friends alone.”

Diego started to open his mouth but Jenna held up her hand.

“I’ll agree to visit you. Perhaps if you change, I’ll consider coming home, but right now if you want me in your life this is how it has to happen. You promise to stop hurting and chasing me and my friends. You go back to being the father I remember, the one who signed up to be a firefighter because he wanted to help people, not control people, you visit once in a while, and then we see how things go.”

Diego looked at Molly.

Molly raised her eyebrows at him. She was fighting a smile. Her chest was swelling with pride. Jenna was incredible. It was taking all Molly’s willpower not to shout, “Yes! Yes, yes, yes, Jenna!”

“All right.” Diego’s voice was quiet but when Jenna looked at him, he spoke a little louder. “All right. I promise.” He took his gun from his waistband and dropped it to the ground. “You and your friends are free. I’ll… I’ll try it your way.” He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “I love you, Jenna. I just want you in my life.”

As Jenna nodded, Molly walked over and squeezed her hand.

“Seriously?” Molly almost jumped at the voice. It was Victor, and he looked furious. “All this? All the trouble I went to and that’s it? You just roll over?”

Diego rolled his eyes. “Victor. It’s over. You helped me find Jenna. You’ve got your prisoner. Do what you want with him, but things between us are done now.”

“But they’re all lawbreakers,” Victor said loudly. “They’ve stolen, lied, made fools of us. They harbored a criminal.”

“Oh yeah,” Diego scoffed. “And you’re a law-abiding citizen these days? Just take your prize and go, Victor. Besides, you’re outnumbered. Know when to quit. I mean, it’s remarkable you even got this far.”

Victor blinked at Diego for a long moment, then in one swift movement reached into his pocket and drew out a knife. Diego looked at it and laughed, and that was the last straw. Victor lunged forward, stabbing at Diego with the knife.

Only just managing to dodge out of the way, Diego yelled for his guards to do something, but Tommy and Molly were holding their guns. Molly raised hers. Tommy too, but Diego and Victor were moving too quickly. Victor was all over the place, jabbing here and there, desperate to slice any bit of skin he could find.

Molly looked at Jenna; she was rolling up her sleeves. She was going to tackle Victor. Molly couldn’t let that happen. With a yell, she propelled herself forward, lowering her head and hurling her body into Victor’s side. He grabbed for her, but she kept pushing. She pushed and pushed and then they both fell. Victor was on top of her. They’d fallen into a huge patch of mud and Molly was struggling to get a grip on Victor to heave him off. Something caught her arm. She cried out.

“Molly!” Jenna had picked up Molly’s gun and was holding it, but Diego pulled her out of the way and rushed forward. Grabbing Victor’s wrist, he shook the knife free and pushed him to the ground, beckoning for his men to come and help while Tommy and Jenna pulled Molly backward.

As Diego’s men grabbed Victor, ignoring his groans and cries that he was injured, Molly looked down at herself. She was covered in mud. Blood trickled down her arm and she’d banged her head on something, but she was okay.

“I’m all right,” she said as Tommy pulled her to her feet. “I’m all right.”

From the porch, she heard Colton yell her name. He, Lucky, Zack and Joe had made it outside and were staggering down the steps with their bound wrists. Colton made straight for Diego but Molly grabbed for him. “It’s okay,” she said, shaking her head and glancing at Jenna’s father. “We have an understanding.”

“You do?” Colton frowned at Diego.

Diego nodded. “We do.” He was holding Victor’s knife and stepped closer to Colton. Colton’s body tensed but, keeping eye contact, Diego simply sliced Colton free from his bonds and stood back.

“An understanding?” Colton asked Molly as Diego moved away to talk to Jenna. “What happened out here?”

“It’s a long story.” Molly shook her arms and bits of mud flew into the air. “A really long story.”

39

COLTON

“What do we do with him?” Molly was looking at Victor, who was now sporting a pair of his own handcuffs and sitting with his back up against their log-cutting stump while Diego’s soldiers guarded him.

“Diego offered to take him back to town, but I think I’d like to go with them,” Colton said, trying to stop himself from telling Molly to go inside and see to her injured arm.

“I think that’s a good idea. We’ll be fine here.” Molly breathed in slowly as if she was trying to convince herself that was true.

“I know you will.” Colton was watching her face, and was about to ask what exactly had prompted Diego’s sudden change of heart when he heard the cabin door open.

“Hi.” It was Joe. Looking sheepishly at Molly, he rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat. “I, um, just wanted to say thank you. And, I guess, now that the bogeyman’s been captured, I should be going.”

As Molly reached out to shake Joe’s hand, Colton breathed in slowly. Strangely, finding out the truth about Joe’s past had made Colton warm to him. Yes, he’d made mistakes, but with the missing pieces in place everything that had seemed so suspicious about his behavior made sense.

“Actually,” Colton said, offering Molly a look that he hoped said, Trust me on this one, “Joe, if you want to stay, I’m not going to throw you out. You’ve been useful. and as long as there are no more secrets…”

As Molly’s eyes widened a little, Joe’s eyebrows tweaked upwards. He shook his head and then, for perhaps the first time, smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “Really. Thank you.” Then he looked at Victor. “But Mr. Fox has some of my friends prisoner back at the police station and I’d really like to go check on them. They’re not family but—”

“But they’re your family?” Molly said. “We get that. Of course you should go.”

Nodding, Colton folded his arms in front of his chest. “I’ll go with you. I know the guy who’s running things at the high school. A cop. A good guy. We can hand Mr. Fox over to him and let your friends out.” Looking up at the sky, Colton added, “It’s too late to leave now. We’ll stay here tonight, and then first thing tomorrow, we move out. That all right with you?”

As if he was surprised to have been asked, Joe nodded.

“You mind relaying that information to Mr. Cruz? I’m not quite in the mood to talk with him just yet.”

“Sure thing.” Although older, Joe reminded Colton a little of Lucky—as if he simply wasn’t used to being given any level of responsibility or trust.

“That was nice of you,” Molly whispered as Joe trotted down the steps and approached Diego.

“I’m a nice guy,” Colton replied. Then, because he couldn’t resist any longer, “And this nice guy would very much like you to go see to your bleeding arm before it gets infected.”

“Little bit of an overreaction,” Molly said, smiling. “But okay. If you say so.” They were at the door when she looked back over her shoulder and added, “Where do we keep Victor tonight?”

“Oh, I think a nice damp basement with a cold hard floor should suffice.” Colton tensed his jaw. “Maybe I’ll leave the hatch open and hope it rains.”

* * *

Twenty-Four Hours Later

As they approached the police station, Colton tried to focus on the task at hand rather than the changes to the buildings and streets since they left. Somehow, it looked both cleaner and more disheveled at the same time, but it felt safer, which must be down to Hicks.

“We’ll leave Victor at the station, then go find Hicks,” Colton told Joe.

“I’ll watch him,” Diego volunteered.

Nodding, Colton examined Diego’s face. His change of heart seemed genuine, but after what they’d been through there was no way Colton was going to offer this man his unconditional trust. Diego Cruz would have to prove he was a changed man.

“Jesus.” Diego had begun to cough. “The stench.”

Colton wrinkled his nose.

Next to him, sweating from the pace of their quick march back into town, Victor’s face paled.

“What is that?” Colton asked Victor.

Blinking quickly, Victor looked from Joe to Colton. “No idea,” he croaked. “Maybe best to go straight to this friend of yours, Hicks. There’s nothing inside worth seeing.”

“Except my friends,” Joe snapped.

At that, Victor looked down at his feet and licked his lower lip. Colton was about to grab him by the shoulders and ask what the heck was going on when the door to the police station flew open.

Coughing and spluttering, someone stepped outside.

Colton gestured for everyone to keep still, watching closely. Then a smile spread across his lips. “Hicks?” He raised his voice and moved forward, dragging Victor with him. “Hicks!”

At the entrance of the station, Hicks looked up and pulled a cloth away from his mouth. “Colton? What the heck are you doing here?” Hurrying forward, Hicks didn’t even hesitate to throw his arms around Colton and slap his back.

“This here is Mr. Victor Fox.” Colton stood back and gestured to Victor. “He’s the one who’s been running around bumping off prisoners who’ve escaped from Fairfield.”

Hicks’ eyes widened. “Is he now?”

“He even chased down me and my friends, threatened us.” Colton nudged Victor forward, enjoying the fact that the man’s chubby knees were trembling.

“Then I suppose you’re responsible for what I found in there?” Hicks’ face had set into a stony stare. “Are you?” He raised his voice. “I said are you?”

“Y… y… yes sir.” Victor’s lower lip began to tremble. “But I was only trying to keep the town safe.”

“Shut up!” Hicks pulled on Victor’s arm. “I don’t want to hear it.” Waving at Colton, he gestured for them all to follow and began to drag Victor inside.

As they entered the building, Colton slammed his hand over his mouth. The smell was awful.

“I found a dead body in here,” Hicks said, shoving Victor through some double doors that led to a line of open cells. “And a bunch of men, trapped, with no food or water.”

Victor had begun to cry. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“You will be.” Pulling back one of the cell doors, Hicks shoved Victor inside and—drowning out his cries of protest—slammed the cell closed.

Back outside, away from Victor’s cries to be released, Hicks rubbed his hands together and shook his head. “I won’t leave him in there to rot. I’ll just leave him long enough to let him think about what he did to those poor men.”

Colton glanced at Joe. His face was pale. “I think,” Colton said, “that those men were Joe’s friends. Hicks, I know they’re technically felons but—”

“Don’t worry,” Hicks cut in, looking at Joe. “I let your friends go. None of them had committed any offenses since their escape. As far as I’m concerned, this new world is a clean slate. They hadn’t done anything to hurt the people of this town so—”

“How many were there? Do you know where they went?” Joe was looking up and down the street as if he might spot them. When he returned his gaze to Hicks he added quietly. “The dead man. Do you know his name?”

“I don’t, I’m afraid,” Hicks said solemnly. “But I know the ones I let out said they were heading to Fullers Woods.” Hicks nodded to indicate the direction. “I told them they could stay, but they said they wanted to stick to their original plan.”

As Joe’s eyes brightened, he looked at Colton.

“You know where they’re headed?” Colton asked.

Joe nodded.

“Then you better go catch up with them.” Colton patted Joe’s shoulder. “Good luck.”

“Thank you.” Joe looked from Colton to Hicks. “Both of you. Thanks.” Then without looking back, he set off to find his friends.

As they watched Joe leave, Hicks turned slowly to Diego. “Mister Cruz,” he said quietly. “I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again in these parts.”

Unusually quiet, Diego swallowed hard and laced his fingers together in front of him. “Sir, I have many apologies to make to you and the people of this town. I need to show my daughter I’m worthy of her. So, I’m hoping….” Diego cleared his throat as if the words were getting stuck. “I was hoping you might have a job for me at the school. I’ll do anything. Clean toilets. Cook. Anything.”

Hicks glanced at Colton, who gave him an ‘it’s up to you’ shrug.

“All right.” Hicks nodded slowly. “But it’ll be under close supervision until we’re sure we’re on the same page. Is that okay with you?”

Nodding contritely, Diego muttered, “Yes, sir. Thank you. Absolutely.”

“Well, all right, then,” Hicks said. Then, turning to Colton, he added, “And you, my friend? Are you looking for a job too? Because I sure would love it if you said you’d stick around.”

As Hicks asked the question, Colton narrowed his eyes and examined his friend’s face. He’d been bracing himself for a tugging in his gut—the need to pitch in and help out. The need to be part of something bigger. To his surprise, it didn’t come.

“Actually,” he said, “I think I’ve found where I belong.”

“And it’s not here in Fairfield?” Hicks smiled as he spoke, as if he already knew the answer.

“I’m afraid not.” Colton turned and looked toward the road out of town. “Turns out I belong in the woods with a bunch of unruly kids—”

“And a pretty nice-looking schoolteacher?”

Colton allowed himself to smile. “Yeah,” he said. “A schoolteacher I better be getting back to.”

EPILOGUE

MOLLY

Three Months Later

When Molly woke, she smiled to herself. A bright light was filtering in through the shutters and the cabin was almost completely silent.

As the door opened, she pushed herself up to lean against the headboard. “Merry Christmas,” she said, smiling as Colton pressed a mug of coffee into her hand.

“Merry Christmas,” he replied, kissing her forehead.

“What are the teens doing?” Molly looked behind Colton, half expecting to see Jenna, Lucky and Zack lined up and desperate to dive into the stockings she’d filled for them.

“I’m not sure.” Colton shrugged, then walked to the window and opened the shutters. “We had fresh snow last night,” he said, looking out at the trees.

“Perfect. At least the moose will be nice and chilled.”

At that, Colton shook his head. “Are you doubting the efficiency of my cool box method?”

“Never.” She smiled at him and pulled her sweater on over her head. “I’m sure it’s foolproof, but I’ve never had Christmas moose before. I want it to be perfect.”

Molly stood up and slid her feet into her slippers. “It’s weirdly quiet in the living room. Are you sure they’re not getting up to no good? Where’s Tommy? Is he supervising?”

“They’re teenagers, not toddlers,” Colton chuckled.

“I know, but they’re so excited to have Scarlett and Erik visiting today I’m worried it’ll go to their heads.” Molly was heading for the door.

“Then we should definitely go check on them.” Colton stepped in front of her and opened the door in an exaggeratedly chivalrous fashion.

Molly laughed at him and narrowed her eyes. “You’re strangely joyful today. I didn’t realize you liked Christmas.”

“Who doesn’t like Christmas?” As Colton followed her down the hallway, Molly smiled at the paper chains she’d strung up a few days ago. They were in the living room too.

As she stepped inside, half wondering whether to make more decorations, she gasped. Right there next to the fire was an enormous fir tree.

“When did you do you this?” she breathed.

Next to her, Colton shrugged his shoulders. He looked pleased with himself. Then just as she was about to wrap her arms around his neck and give him a kiss on the cheek, she heard giggling behind the tree.

“Okay, come on out,” she said, folding her arms in front of her chest.

At that, Zack, Jenna and Lucky jumped out from behind the tree. Jenna was holding a large box and pressed it into Molly's hands as she gave her a peck on the cheek.

“We found decorations,” she said. “Up in the attic, weeks ago.”

Molly looked from one sneaky teenager to the next. “So, this whole thing about not having a tree?” She turned around and raised her eyebrows at Colton, “About it not being a priority? That was just to throw me off the scent?”

Colton shrugged, then walked casually over and leaned against the tree. “Possibly,” he said. “Thought we’d start a new tradition—decorate the tree on Christmas morning. What do you say?”

Molly tilted her head from side to side. “Well, we do have a moose to prepare. I’m not sure there’s time—”

“I can do that.” Colton was already halfway across the room, taking his jacket from the hook and pulling it onto his shoulders. “I'll get started on the moose. You guys do the tree. Our guests will be here in a little while.”

As he opened the door, a rush of cold air blew into the cabin and made the paper chains flutter. Molly shivered, but this morning nothing was going to put a damper on her spirits; it was Christmas day and they had a tree and decorations. She rubbed the goose bumps on her arms, then set down the box on the coffee table and peered into it. Inside were decorations she remembered from when she was a child. Mostly handmade, plus some old baubles and some very ragged-looking tinsel.

“We made some too,” said Lucky, running over to the sideboard and opening it up to take out a tray covered in pinecones which had been painted and tied up with string.

“They're perfect.” Molly wrapped one arm around Lucky and the other around Jenna, then motioned for Zack to come in for a hug too. When she stepped back and they began to hang the decorations on the tree, she looked at Zack. “Where is your brother?”

Zack laughed. “Still sleeping. He said all he wanted for Christmas was to sleep in.”

Molly laughed too. “Well, that's good, because I didn't get any of you gifts.”

“At least Santa found us,” Lucky said, gesturing to the socks that were hanging above the fireplace.

Molly nodded. “Indeed. And this year, he brought you each a protein bar. Are you excited?”

At the mention of protein bars, Lucky’s eyes widened and he groaned. “Oh, seriously? Protein bars?”

Stringing tinsel around the top of the tree, Molly laughed, “No, not seriously,” she said glancing at him, “but wait until Colton comes back inside before we open them, and until Tommy is awake.”

As Zack moved as if he was about to go and wake his brother right away, Molly motioned for him not to. “Perhaps your brother would like a coffee?”

Rolling his eyes, Zack put down his handful of decorations and plodded over to the kitchen. “I suppose I could do something nice for him one day of the year.”

Watching as Zack made his big brother a cup of coffee and Lucky and Jenna finished decorating the tree, Molly sighed and smiled to herself.

It had been a hard few months, but they’d done it; they’d made it to Christmas. They’d survived several weeks of bad snow, but they had enough supplies to last them until spring. When they could make it into town again, Hicks had promised them a share of what he’d built up at the high school, which would restock their canned goods. They hadn’t managed to plant any of the seeds yet that Janet and Bill had given them, but they had been studying the book. This time next year, they would have fresh homegrown vegetables to go with their moose. Maybe even chicken to eat if Janet kept her promise to deliver them some eggs to hatch.

For this dinner, however, they were relying on Janet and Bill, who they hoped would be arriving soon in their truck with carrots, onions, and sweet corn.

Excusing herself to get dressed, Molly walked back to the bedroom and spent a moment just sitting on the end of the bed looking up at the patched roof—which had held through three big storms now—and thanking whoever it was she silently thanked when she spoke things in her head, for the strange little family that she’d created.

When she returned to the living room, Colton was chopping meat in the kitchen and the tree was fully decorated.

As Lucky and Jenna sat down on the couch, musing about what was in their stockings, Molly helped Colton in the kitchen. A few minutes later, Tommy appeared, bleary-eyed and clutching the coffee Zack had made him.

“Tommy is here!” Jenna shouted. “Does that mean we can open our stockings?”

Molly laughed and nodded. “Just let us get this moose cooking and then, yes, we can open our stockings, but please don't get too excited. I had to work with what was at my disposal.”

A short while later, with the moose roasting in the wood-fired stove, Molly and Colton watched as Lucky, Zack, Jenna and Tommy—who wasn’t a kid but who they hadn’t wanted to leave out—opened their stockings.

One by one, they each took out a book, which Molly had selected from the library on her last trip to town before they holed up for the winter, some chocolate, which Hicks had given her, and a personalized decoration for the tree. Salt dough baked into the shape of snowflakes with their names engraved and a ribbon attached.

As Jenna’s eyes started to well up, Molly wiped tears from her own eyes and reached into her pocket. “There’s one for you too,” she said to Colton. “And I have one. Shall we put them on the tree?”

Colton nodded and squeezed her hand. “Yes, we should.”

“Aww.” Tommy nudged Molly’s shoulder and grinned at her. “Gee, thanks, Mom and Dad.”

“Shut up,” she said, “or you’ll be getting the wrong end of the moose for your dinner.”

* * *

Just as they finished hanging their handmade snowflakes on the tree, they heard a noise from outside.

“A truck. It must be Janet and Bill.” Jenna ran to the window and peered out. “It’s them!” she called.

Together, everyone grabbed their coats and rushed to the porch as the truck doors opened. With a snow plow attached to the front, Janet and Bill had made it to them via the track they’d cleared earlier in the week and were opening the doors for Erik, Scarlett and Argent to tumble out. As the twins shrieked and rushed up to the house, throwing their arms around their friends, Alex carried Laura up onto the porch while Tommy hurried down and brought Laura’s chair for her.

“Argent, dude, you look cool,” Tommy said, ruffling Argent’s fur and admiring the big red bow around his neck. “I was kinda hoping you’d come dressed as a reindeer, though.”

“We brought carrots,” Janet said proudly, handing Molly a bag. “Onions, sweet corn and potatoes.”

“Oh, wow.” Molly pulled Janet in for a hug, then guided her inside. “Then we better get started.”

She was about to unload the vegetables onto the kitchen counter, while the others chattered loudly in the living room, when a TAP TAP TAP on the door caused everyone to stop talking.

Molly looked around the room. They were all here. Who could possibly be knocking?

As tension filled the air, Tommy walked over to the door. Molly noticed Colton looking for his gun.

Slowly, Tommy pulled the door open. “Diego?”

“I came for my daughter.” Diego leaned on the doorframe. He was panting, his coat covered in snow, and his face was red.

As Jenna stepped forward, Diego looked at her. “Dad?”

“I couldn’t spend Christmas without you,” he said.

Jenna gestured for Tommy to let him inside.

As he slowly walked in, Diego reached into his coat. Molly put down her bag and moved to rush over. “Stop!” she said.

Diego paused and frowned at her. “I brought Jenna a gift.” He’d taken out a small brown package. “I won’t stay. I just wanted her to have it.” And then he turned and walked out, closing the door behind him.

Jenna held the package in her hands as if it might explode or disintegrate. Looking at the others, she hesitated; then Erik said, “Go on, open it.”

Gingerly, she turned it over in her hands and unfastened the string. When she opened it, Molly saw her face grow pink. She shook her head, blinking quickly, then held the open package for Molly to see. “Swiss Family Robinson,” she said. “He gave me a new copy of Swiss Family Robinson.”

As the others smiled, Molly walked over and put her hand on Jenna’s shoulder. “He can’t have gotten far. Why don’t you go ask your dad to stay for Christmas dinner?”

Jenna looked around the group, then back at Molly. “You’re sure.”

Molly nodded. “Yes. It’s time for a fresh start. What better way to celebrate that?”

* * *

A few hours later, having played every board game in the house, enjoyed the Christmas cookies Laura had made, and eaten far too much moose, everyone collapsed in the living room.

“Charades?” Scarlett asked.

The others groaned. “Give it a rest, Scar, haven’t you won enough games yet?” Zack teased.

In the kitchen, making coffee, Molly leaned against the countertop and smiled. “We did it,” she whispered to Colton. “We made Christmas good.”

“You made Christmas good,” Colton said, putting his arm around her. “None of us would be here if it wasn’t for you, Molly O’Neil. We have a lot to thank you for.” As he hugged her, Colton reached back with his other hand and opened a drawer beneath the counter. “I have a lot to thank you for.”

Molly frowned as Colton pressed a neatly wrapped gift into her hands.

“I didn’t get you anything,” she said.

Colton didn’t reply, simply tilted his head and gestured for her to open it.

Gently, Molly tugged the string. As she looked at the gift inside, her lips spread into an enormous smile. “My Side of the Mountain,” she breathed. “How did you even know—?”

Colton shrugged. “I pay attention,” he said. “Marines are trained to pay attention.”

“It’s perfect.” Molly pressed the book to her chest.

“Well, Diego kind of stole my thunder,” Colton said, glancing across the room at Jenna and her father.

“No,” Molly replied, slipping her hand into Colton’s. “He didn’t. This is wonderful.” She smiled as she looked at their bustling little cabin, full of people and smiles. “It’s all wonderful.”

“I guess picking your own family has its benefits.” Colton’s eyebrow twitched as he smiled.

It certainly does, Molly thought. It certainly does.

END OF SURVIVING ANARCHY

DARK NATION BOOK THREE

Escaping Anarchy, February 9th 2022

Enduring Anarchy, March 9th 2022

Surviving Anarchy, April 13th 2022

PS. Do you love EMP fiction? Then keep reading for exclusive extracts from Fractured World (EMP Aftermath Book One) and Crumbling World (Surviving the End Book One)

THANK YOU

Thank you for purchasing Surviving Anarchy

(Dark Nation Book Three)

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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

No power. No law & order. No safety net. The world as everyone knows it is over.

Laurel is stabilizing a patient in the ER when the power goes out. As she struggles to keep her patients alive, she faces an ugly truth—the world as everyone knew it is over. The smart thing to do is run and try to survive, but Laurel refuses to leave her patients behind—least of all her sick mother. There’s only one choice to make. She’ll have to stay and fight.

Bear is done fighting. War and PTSD have cost him everything—his job, his self-respect, and his wife - Laurel. But when he can no longer deny the old world is gone, he gains a new purpose. Laurel is hundreds of miles away from his mountain cabin, but he knows she needs him.

After so long being a lost solider, he finally has something worth fighting for. The highways are clogged with dead cars. Frantic survivors want his truck, his tools, his supplies. He'll face treachery, desperation, and endless miles of unforgiving wilderness, but he's going to find his wife. Together, they can survive anything.

He just has to reach her.

Get your copy of Fractured World (EMP Aftermath Book One)

Available July 13th 2022

(Available for Pre-Order Now!)

www.GraceHamiltonBooks.com

* * *

EXCERPT

CHAPTER ONE

LAUREL

“What have we got?” Laurel rushed forward, clutching the tablet she hadn’t gotten used to using yet. Casting a hurried glance at the triage area, she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and pinched it between her thumb and index finger. Too many patients, not enough staff. South Minneha Hospital was supposed to be different, yet just a week after opening, they were running into the same old problems. Plus some new ones.

In front of her, a female paramedic gestured to a gurney. Laurel couldn’t remember her name. A young male was strapped to it, barely conscious, eyes rolling as he grappled for the oxygen mask on his face. Blood trickled from a gash on his forehead, which clearly wasn’t his biggest problem.

“Twenty-three-year-old male, Tommy Jones, front passenger seat, collision with a truck, signs of internal bleeding.”

As the paramedic reeled off the boy’s stats, Laurel’s mind was already three steps ahead. “He’s going to need a chest tube,” she said loudly. “Bay Three!” She gestured to the biggest of the empty bays as her team gathered around her. Two nurses and a resident. Allison Park. Not the worst resident she’d ever worked with, but not the best either.

As Laurel pulled on a gown and gloves, Park took the tablet and started to swipe at it. She was attempting to enter the patient’s information. A step suggested by the bureaucrats who ran the new, extra high-tech hospital that Laurel had found herself working in.

“It’s not connected—”

“Leave it,” Laurel snapped. “You think we have time for that? Gown up, Park.”

Taking a second to gather her breath, Laurel made herself look at the boy in front of her—really look at him. For just a second, she allowed the weight of the responsibility she held to crush her. Then she shook it off, opened her palm and said, “Scalpel.”

A longer-than-usual beat passed. Laurel looked up.

“I can’t find—” One of the nurses, Janet, was scrabbling in an instrument drawer. “It’s not where it’s supposed to be.”

“Help her,” Laurel gestured for Park to look too, but as the resident moved away, a series of alarms began to sound. “He’s in v-fib! Crash cart!”

Laurel started compressions, heaving her entire body weight into the movement, thankful—not for the first time—that she still worked out six days a week.

“Where is that crash cart!” She looked up, over the top of her glasses. Park was staring wildly around the room as if the cart might appear from somewhere.

“It’s not here. I thought we were supposed to have one in every room?” Park’s expression froze as the color drained from her face; she was beginning to panic.

“What is wrong with you people!” Laurel glared at Park. “Take over,” she growled, then ran from the room. There was a cart in Bay Two, she’d used it yesterday.

As fast as she could, she lurched out of Bay Three, into the bay next door, and grabbed the cart. When she returned, the alarms were still ringing. At this rate, they’d lose the kid before they even got him to an OR.

“Charge two-hundred,” she yelled, slapping pads onto the boy’s chest. “Stand clear!”

After the third charge, the alarms stopped. Instinctively, Laurel held out her hand and, this time, Janet pressed a scalpel into it.

* * *

With Tommy finally on his way to surgery, Laurel put her hands on her hips and marched back into Bay Three.

“That was an absolute shit show!” she yelled. “What was that? We could have lost that kid, all because no one knows their ass from their elbow! I shouldn’t have to run out of the room to grab a crash cart. It should have been there. One of you should have noticed it was missing.” As Janet, the two other nurses—Sandra and Maggie—and Park blinked at her, Laurel continued. “I was a field medic in Iraq for three years, and never had to put up with performance as dreadful as this.” She paused. Janet was shaking her head. Park looked like she was about to cry, Sandra and Maggie were blushing. She was being too harsh. This wasn’t her usual management style. She was good with people. She didn’t shout or scream. Something about this place, though, was getting to her. Just a week in, and she was beginning to realize that South Minneha wasn’t as shiny and perfect as she’d been promised it would be.

Opening her mouth to speak, Laurel noticed Janet narrow her eyes a little. The gesture made her stop, press her lips together, and leave before she said anything else.

Twenty minutes later, she was waiting in line for the coffee cart when Janet lightly touched her elbow. “Tough day?” she asked, raising an eyebrow to indicate she was not sympathetic.

Laurel sighed. “Coffee?” She’d reached the front of the line.

Janet nodded and allowed Laurel to buy her a double-shot latte, and then the two of them headed over to a bench nearby. Positioned under a large tree, looking out at the impressive fountain at the front of the hospital, it was a beautiful place to sit. Yet, somehow, it made Laurel uncomfortable.

“I think I’m having a hard time adjusting,” she said as Janet sat down beside her. “All this.” She gestured with her coffee-holding hand to the neatly manicured lawn, which had clearly been designed to convey the idea that South Minneha was not a run-of-the-mill hospital. This place was something special. Something new. “I said no to another tour so I could work here.” Laurel shuffled uncomfortably in her seat and sighed a little. “I’ll admit it, I was swayed by the Board’s proposal. Brand new equipment. State of the art facilities. The kind of resources I’d only ever read about in medical journals.”

“But—” Janet added, pausing for effect.

“But it’s so different from what I’m used to. I used to enjoy my work, but here it feels like I’m fighting fires I shouldn’t have to be fighting. Does that make any sense?”

After sipping her coffee, Janet nodded. “If you don’t like it, why don’t you leave? You don’t have to stay here.”

Laurel hesitated for a moment. She hadn’t told anyone about the real deciding factor in her move to South Minneha.

Watching her, Janet sighed, then straightened her shoulders and sucked in her cheeks. She was a friend, but not the kind of friend to tolerate poor behavior or excuses.

“Look,” she said, folding her arms in front of her plump stomach. “You made a choice. You chose to come work here because the money’s good and because they promised you a bunch of shiny toys.”

Laurel nodded, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“From where I’m sitting, that’s exactly what you got.”

“What’s the use of shiny toys if we can’t get the basics, right?” Laurel almost laughed.

“Okay, so some things need work. We’re all new here, Laurel. But I’m telling you now—you’re not going to make any friends if you carry on like this.” She paused, softening her tone slightly. “Let’s be honest, there’s no way you’re quitting. You’re not that kind of person. So you should probably start thinking about taking a different approach. The nurses are doing their best. Even Park is doing her best.” Janet stood up, clearly not in the mood to sit and make further conversation. “You’re in charge of the ER. You want things done differently? Then screw the Board and do them differently. Just don’t take it out on us.”

Laurel was about to apologize—a sincere apology—when a noise near the entrance interrupted. Following Janet’s gaze, she rose to her feet.

“Great,” Janet said through gritted teeth. “Looks like more inmates have arrived.”

“More?” They started to walk back toward the entrance, watching as a prison transport pulled up and three large guards piled out onto the sidewalk.

Banging a fist on the side of the van, one of them yelled. “Shut up! We’re here. No nonsense or we’ll take you straight back.”

The van doors opened just as Laurel and Janet drew level with them. Inside were two gurneys, each with a prisoner handcuffed to it.

“We were told there’d be a maximum of six per week but that’s got to be…” Laurel trailed off as she tried to recall how many had arrived yesterday and the day before. Janet was chuckling. “What?” Laurel turned to her. “What’s funny?”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” Janet stopped and looked up at the imposing white building in front of them. “The only thing the people in charge of this place care about is money. They didn’t build this hospital because they wanted to use the wonders of modern technology to help people. They built it to bring in big bucks from big donors, big pharmaceutical companies, and big-pocketed patients. More prisoners in the inmates’ wing equals more money.”

“If you’re so skeptical, why are you here?” Laurel asked, folding her arms in front of her chest, tilting her head as she waited for Janet’s answer.

“Same as you. Money. Fancy equipment.” Janet glanced back toward the coffee cart. “And I like the coffee.” Without offering a smile, she tossed her empty takeout cup into a nearby trash can and stalked back inside, sashaying a little as she walked.

As Laurel finished her own coffee, she watched the prison guards wheel the inmates inside. Straight through the main entrance, despite Robert Sullivan’s promises about them being kept completely separate from her ER.

Taking out her phone, she flicked to Robert’s name and typed out a quick message: Need to talk ASAP.

He’d avoid her, of course he would, but she wasn’t going to let him get away with this. Janet was right; Laurel was in charge, so she darn well needed to act like it. Normally, she’d never even dream of kowtowing to someone like Robert—nice but, ultimately, interested more in the hospital’s bottom line than anything else. The problem was, after everything Robert had done to get her mother into the trial—the only one in the country getting results for her type of cancer—she felt indebted to him.

Somehow, she needed to draw a line between the two things. Robert did her a favor, but she did him a favor too by agreeing to head up his fancy new ER. She was good, and he knew it, or he wouldn’t have gone to the lengths he had to secure her. It was about time she reminded him of that.

Get your copy of Fractured World (EMP Aftermath Book One)

Available July 13th 2022

(Available for Pre-Order Now!)

www.GraceHamiltonBooks.com

BLURB

Family comes first—and he’ll do whatever it takes to protect his from the looming storm.

Even before becoming a husband and father, safety had been Shane McDonald’s priority for most of his forty-five years. As a nuclear engineer, it’s his responsibility to keep the Sequoyah Nuclear Plant functioning at optimum levels to avoid what protesters fear most—a meltdown.

But when a coronal mass ejection from the sun wipes out power across the globe, stopping a nuclear chain reaction is no longer his primary concern.

Now Shane must trek across hundreds of miles to ensure the safety of his loved ones in a world rapidly disintegrating into lawlessness. Yet with few functioning automobiles and a blind teenage daughter to protect, it’ll require careful planning to reach his prepper mother-in-law’s and reunite with his family.

His wife has her hands full as well. When her brother’s chemo drip suddenly stops working and her son gets stuck in the hospital elevator, all Jodi McDonald wants is the security of her husband’s steady presence. But with a weakened brother and inexperienced son to look after, Jodi must remain strong amid the chaos and help guide them to her mother’s.

However, even the best laid plans go awry as the miles stretch out between them. Supply thefts run rampant. Those who have necessities prey on those who don’t. Minds broken by hardship kill on sight.

But the fatal mistake comes when thugs threaten the McDonald’s little girl.

Shane must find the strength to do the unthinkable—or watch his family suffer the consequences.

Grab your copy of Crumbling World (Surviving the End Book One) from
www.GraceHamiltonBooks.com

* * *

EXCERPT

Chapter One

Violet must have sensed the furious crowd gathered in front of the gate. In the rearview mirror, Shane saw her sit up straighter and cock her head to one side. Ruby, her black lab guide dog, responded to the sudden change in her body language and looked at her with concern. Roughly two dozen people had gathered in a grassy area alongside the entry road to the Sequoyah Nuclear Plant, some of them carrying neatly stenciled signs as they marched back and forth. On the other side of the road two police officers stood watching in front of their patrol car.

“Dad, what’s going on?” Violet said. “I can hear a crowd of people. It sounds like they’re chanting.”

He hadn’t intended to tell her about the protestors. He had been hoping to avoid having to explain to his daughter why people were protesting his place of work on Take Your Child to Work Day. She was fourteen, but she was also somewhat naïve. Shane had perhaps sheltered her too much as a child, waiting to protect her from danger, from bullies, from so many possible problems, particularly because of her disability. This had only recently become difficult, as she began to push back, growing into a questioning teen who would no longer accept easy answers.

“Just some people,” he said. “Don’t worry.”

As the car drew up alongside the protestors, the words of their chant became clear.

“Shut it down! Shut it down! Shut it down!”

Ruby had been sprawled across the back seat, but she rose now and placed her head on Violet’s lap. Some would have mistaken this for a gesture of affection. Shane recognized it as a protective move.

“Why are they saying that?” Violet asked, pushing her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. “Is something wrong? They sound angry.”

Trying to ignore the hateful stares of the protestors, Shane slowed as he approached the guard station next to the front gate. He fumbled in his shirt pocket for his work ID, trying to think of the best way to explain the situation to his daughter. Violet tended to think the best of people, and he didn’t want her to lose that optimism.

“They’re just exercising their first amendment rights,” he said. “Freedom of speech is a beautiful thing, even if the things being said are questionable.”

“So they’re protesting the power plant?” she asked.

“Well…yes,” he replied, hoping she would leave it at that.

“That happens a lot here, huh?” she said. “A lot of people protest?”

“No, only occasionally. Generally, when we make the news for some reason or another.”

“Why are they so mad this time? Did your company do something wrong?”

“They’re upset because of the talk about adding a third reactor to the plant. Our service area is growing, and we could use another reactor, but as soon as it hit the news, people in the community started complaining. I imagine they organized some kind of protest gathering on social media, and here they are. It’s fine. People are entitled to voice their concerns.” He flashed his ID to the guard, who gave him an anxious smile and waved him through the open gate. The parking lot beyond was emptier than usual. At two minutes to four in the afternoon, they were smack-dab in the middle of a shift change. Had the protestors planned it that way, hoping to catch the bulk of the second shift workers as they pulled into the gate? It seemed likely. “If you ask me, they’re being rather alarmist. People like this, I don’t think they get it.”

“They don’t get what, Dad?” Violet asked.

He carefully considered his words before answering. Would his daughter think less of him if she understood the controversial nature of his chosen industry? “Well, Violet, sweetheart, nuclear energy is the cleanest and safest form of energy in the world—hands down, no question—but the word nuclear makes some people nervous. They assume radiation is seeping into the environment and creating three-eyed fish in the river.”

Violet laughed at that. “Is it?”

“No, of course not. The radiation is fully contained.”

Ahead, the vast gray cooling towers rose on either side of a domed containment building, billowing steam into a crisp late-April sky. Shane could see the curve of the Tennessee River where it slipped behind the plant in a broad arc. It was a sight that never failed to impress him, even after these many years, and he wished his daughter could enjoy it. As he pulled into the closest row of parking spaces, he considered ways he might convey the majesty of this place to her.

“Dad,” she said, “we talked about nuclear power in our science class at school. Our teacher said nuclear power plants are dangerous because if they overheat, they can go into a meltdown. She said meltdowns have happened before, and they hurt a lot of people, even poisoned whole cities. Is that true? Could it happen here?”

“It’s true. But did your teacher mention that more people die in coal mines every year than have ever died from nuclear meltdowns?” Shane said.

Violet persisted. “But a meltdown could happen here?”

Shane grunted unhappily. “That would require a very severe accident.”

“But they’ve happened before,” Violet said. “At Chernobyl in the Ukraine, and somewhere in Japan. One even happened in America, she said, at a place called Three Mile Island.”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Something like that is not going to happen here. The Chernobyl accident was mostly caused by the poor design of RBMK nuclear power reactors. We don’t have that problem here. And Fukushima in Japan was caused by a tsunami, which probably isn’t going to happen in the mountains of Tennessee. We’re safe.”

“But how do you know for sure?” Violet asked.

“Because I’m a nuclear engineer,” he replied. “It’s my job to know. It’s my job to keep everyone safe, and I will. I will keep us safe.”

“Promise?” Violet said.

“Promise.”

* * *

The hallways were emptier than usual because of the shift change, but they met Landon just outside the control room. He was coming from the direction of the break room, his sleek black wheelchair making its gentle whirring sound. It had wheels with fat spokes that were slanted inward, a heavily padded seat and backrest, and a sturdy frame. As Landon had explained in the past, it was technically an athletic wheelchair, but he’d gained an affinity for them during his years of playing wheelchair basketball. He was broad-shouldered and strong, a former athlete with a well-built upper body. His legs had atrophied from spina bifida, but this had rarely been an issue on the job.

“Hey there, buddy,” Landon said, when he spotted Shane rounding the corner. “I don’t usually beat you to the office. What’s the holdup?”

“I brought a guest with me this morning,” Shane said, “so watch your salty language today.”

“What are you talking about?” Landon replied. “I haven’t even said my first four letter word of the day.”

Shane shuffled slowly down the hall, holding his daughter’s hand and guiding her. She came somewhat reluctantly, her other hand sliding along the wall. Passing through security had made her nervous—the great hum and hiss of the metal detector, x-ray machine, and radiation monitor—and she kept fiddling with the small radiation monitoring device hanging around her neck. Like the workers, she had been given an orange hardhat, and it was slightly too big for her head, pushing against the rims of her sunglasses.

To make matters far worse, security had insisted she leave Ruby behind. They’d made a place for her beloved black lab in the security office, but Violet had balked at the idea. It was Shane’s fault. He’d pulled strings to get approval for Violet to come to work with him—no easy feat—but he’d forgotten to get clearance for Ruby.

That’ll put a damper on the day, he thought.

Fortunately, Violet knew Landon well—he was practically family—so when she heard his voice, she relaxed a bit.

“Hey there, Vivi,” Landon said. Only Landon could get away with calling her Vivi. “Where’s your furry sidekick? I’ve never seen the two of you apart.” He was particularly fond of the dog.

“They wouldn’t let me bring her into the building,” Violet said. “Even though she’s a trained guide dog, they said it’s not safe to bring an animal—any animal—into the plant, so she’s sitting back there by herself.”

“Not by herself,” Shane said gently. “The security team will take good care of her, and we can check on her from time to time. We’ll bring her something to eat during my lunch break.”

“I don’t know what they’re afraid of,” Violet said. “She never bites, and she doesn’t get into anything. She doesn’t even bark unless I’m in trouble. If we brought her inside, she would sit quietly and mind her own business all day long, except for pee breaks.”

“It’s just company protocol,” Shane said. “Sorry, I should have tried to clear it first. I didn’t realize it would be a problem.”

“Don’t you worry about it, Violet,” Landon said. “I won’t let this injustice stand. I’ll file a formal complaint. It’s not nice separating a kid from her loyal sidekick. If we have to take this all the way to the board of directors, so be it. Policy must be rewritten.”

Shane shook his head at Landon. “It’s fine. It’s only for a few hours. Ruby will be okay. We’ll check on her at lunchtime, get her something to eat, take her potty, and everything will be okay.”

“She doesn’t know that,” Violet said. “She doesn’t know we’re coming back at lunchtime.” Finally, Violet shrugged and rolled her head back on her shoulders. When she did, the orange hardhat almost fell off, and she had to grab it. “Oh well, nothing we can do about it, I guess. I’ll give her an extra treat after we get home tonight.”

“There you go,” Shane said. “Great idea.”

“I don’t know why you wanted to come here anyway, kid,” Landon said. “Should’ve gone to work with your mom at the CDC. You know your dad’s job is incredibly boring, right?”

“Dad says his job is to keep everyone safe,” Violet said.

“He’s not wrong.” Landon turned and wheeled toward the control room door, beckoning for them to follow. “But you’d be surprised how boring it is keeping everyone safe.”

“Now, now,” Shane said, laying a hand lightly on his daughter’s shoulder. “Don’t undersell the experience, Landon. She’s been looking forward to this.”

“All I’m saying is you should have gone with your mom,” Landon said. “She works with diseases. She’s battling deadly viruses on the daily, keeping world-devouring pandemics at bay with nothing but grit and determination.”

“That’s not exactly true,” Shane said. “She does have a lot of grit and determination, though, I’ll give you that.”

“Centers for Disease Control. That’s her place of employment, right? Disease control, man. They’re protecting us from mutating Ebola and bio-engineered smallpox. Those are the real dangers right there, not some silly old nuclear power plant. Nothing exciting happens here.”

“Dad said yes first,” Violet said.

“I did,” Shane said. “Plus, your mom is technically a statistician for the CDC. She’s not battling bio-engineered smallpox, but they do work to prevent diseases. He’s right about that.”

“It’s fine,” Violet said. “Except for poor Ruby, I don’t mind coming here. I can visit Mom’s place next time.”

The curve of a long green console took up most of the center of the control room, its surface covered in a complex array of gauges, screens, buttons, and knobs. A low hum filled the room. Violet reacted upon entering the room, perking up and turning her head first one way and then the other.

“The air is different in here,” she said. “Feels kind of weird. Sort of electric, if that makes sense.”

“Lots and lots of warm electronics,” Landon said, wheeling himself up to the console and leaning in close to one of the monitors. “That’s what you feel. It kind of smells plasticky, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Violet replied.

Landon’s elbow crutches were leaning against the end of the console. He kept them close, but he preferred using the wheelchair. When Shane took a seat, they started to slide so he caught them and set them on the floor. As Landon began cycling through system menus, Shane called his daughter over, took her right hand, and laid it on the console beside his keyboard.

“You feel that?” he asked. “That’s my computer. I spend a whole lot of time at this computer.”

“I can almost see it,” she said. “The screen is bright right now, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. The starting screen is a light blue color.”

Though Violet was visually impaired, Shane knew she could perceive light. She described bright lights as vague, distant blobs. She could also tell when she was in a completely dark room. Beyond that, she was incapable of perceiving shapes or colors.

“We monitor every system in the station from this room.” Shane turned to Landon. “In fact, we can pretty much determine everything that’s happening from right here, and we can call other departments if we need to talk to them.”

“On rare occasions, we even leave the room,” Landon said.

“That’s true,” Shane said. “In fact, I was thinking about giving her a tour of the facility when the rest of the staff get here. She could meet some of the department heads and hear what they do. What do you think?”

“Sorry, pal,” Landon replied. “After the software upgrade, we’ve got to run through the rest of those scenarios this morning. The tour will have to wait until after lunch.”

“Oh, man, I thought we finished those yesterday.”

“Not even close,” Landon said. “They’re being especially comprehensive this time.”

Shane guided his daughter’s hand to the next seat, and she sat down.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I’ll take you on a tour a little later,” Shane said. “Just hang out here for a bit while we get some work done. Do you need a drink or anything? I could run to the break room and get you something.”

“I’m fine, Dad,” Violet replied, feeling the edge of the console and resting her forearms against a spot that was clear of buttons, gauges, or knobs. “Don’t worry about me. Just do your work. I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re never a bother,” he said.

“Brace yourself, Vivi,” Landon said. “Running through end-of-the-world scenarios while pretending they can never happen gets dull after a few hours.”

Shane almost shushed his friend, but it was too late. The words were out. Violet pushed her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose and frowned.

“End of the world?” she said. “What do you mean by that?”

“Just scenarios,” Shane said. “Not real life. We’re testing a recent software upgrade by seeing how it responds to theoretical situations.”

“What kind of situations?” Violet asked.

But at that moment, a harsh squawk came out of one of the tiny speakers beside Shane’s computer console as a window popped up on his screen. A red message flashed brightly: CORONAL MASS EJECTION EVENT IMMINENT TWO MINUTES. It flashed a few times before he registered what he was reading.

“Coronal mass ejection,” he said. “Landon, did you start the simulation already?”

Landon leaned back in his chair to get a look at Shane’s screen. “I haven’t done anything,” he said. “I haven’t pressed a single button yet.” A two-way radio sat near the edge of the console, and he grabbed it. “Let me see if I can find out what’s going on. Maybe they’re running some kind of remote drill. Is that possible? I mean, it can’t be real.”

“If it was real they would have given us a lot more than two minutes warning,” Shane said, feeling a flutter of anxiety despite his words. “It has to be some kind of test.”

“Okay, let me see if I can get hold of someone,” Landon said. “If it’s an unplanned simulation from on high, I’m going to pitch a fit. We have enough scenarios to run through without the higher-ups messing around. Sometimes, they’re too clever for their own good.”

“Dad?”

Violet managed one plaintive word before the power went out. Every light and screen went dark, and Shane heard cooling fans winding down.

“Well, that’s not good,” Landon said. “We just lost everything.”

Shane had been trained to handle this kind of scenario—he knew the steps—but having his daughter present changed everything. He could hear her panicked breathing, the squeak of her chair as she fidgeted. It was distracting. He wanted to comfort her, but he also knew they had to act fast.

“Dad, what’s happening? What’s a coronal…whatever?”

“Coronal mass ejection,” Landon said. “A massive burst of plasma from the sun. Causes an electromagnetic pulse which can knock out the power grid, fry electronics, and do all sorts of bad, bad stuff. I’m going to take a wild guess here and say it’s not a simulation.”

The control room was quiet, too quiet, but Shane heard shouting in the hallway—panic throughout the building just as the second shift was arriving. Terrible timing.

“Backup power’s not coming on,” he said. “Could the CME have taken out the generators?”

“Doubt it,” Landon said in the darkness. He sounded breathless. “If it’s a CME, the backup generators might be fine. They’re just old-fashioned diesel engines. No electronics in them to be fried. We’ll have to start them manually though.”

Shane was still half-convinced it was a test, but he didn’t like the nervous edge in Landon’s voice. The man was usually so calm and collected.

“I’ll take care of it,” Shane said. He started to rise from his chair, but Violet’s hand clamped down on his arm.

“No, Dad. Don’t leave. I’m scared.”

“It’s okay, honey. I just need—”

He heard the whir of Landon’s wheelchair. “I’ve got it. You two stay here. I know the way, and I can move faster than either of you. We need to act quickly.”

“No, I’ll come with you,” Shane said. “It might require two of us to get the generators working. Violet, you can come, too. I won’t leave you here by yourself.”

“Are we in trouble?” she said. “What happens if you don’t get them working?”

“If the main power is knocked out, the control rods drop into the core, and the reactor is flooded with water to drive the temperature down,” Shane said. “That can’t happen until we get the backup generators on, but we will. It’ll just take a minute.”

“You’re talking about a meltdown,” Violet said, her voice quavering, her hand squeezing his arm tighter. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

“No, no, we have…plenty of time to get things under control.” He had to force the words out. But it’s a test, right? It has to be? If it’s a real CME, they would have warned us a lot sooner.

Shane heard the hiss of the control room door as Landon heaved it open and wheeled into the hallway. Shane rose and grabbed Violet’s hand. Then he followed after Landon.

He wanted to believe they had plenty of time. He almost did believe it, but he’d never heard Landon sound so scared.

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