Dangerous world, p.24
Dangerous World, page 24
“Yeah, but you know what patients are like—never quite tell the whole truth. You’ve said that yourself.”
He watched as she pressed her lips together and sighed. “Mmm.”
“I think we should also talk about Mae later.” Bear was lingering next to the shower curtain, eager to have his turn under the warm water but also to make the most of their first moment of true alone time since reuniting.
“Mae? Yes. We should.” Laurel put her hands into her jeans pockets. “We said we’d wait until the spring thaw, but we still need a plan.”
“I’ve been thinking about that, actually….” Bear looked over at Jess, who was sniffing the bowl of warm water next to the fire. Turning back to Laurel, he said, “You know what? We can talk about it later. Maybe dinner? Tonight?”
Laurel pushed her glasses up her nose and smiled at him. “Sure. Dinner. But first, I need to check on my patients. Catch up on how everyone’s doing, get Liam settled in, give Peter his new meds.”
Nodding slowly, Bear watched Laurel walk away, still muttering to herself. She was back where she belonged. He just hoped she’d have the strength to leave again when the time came.
Because their family would not be complete until Mae was back in the fold.
Laurel, Mae, Trent, and Jess. They were his people.
Stepping under the bucket of warm water and letting it drizzle down onto his skin, Bear repeated their names in his head. Laurel, Mae, Trent, and Jess.
One more person to find, then back to Thunder Bay.
Just one more person.
36
MAE
Before they even made it back to the fence, it started to rain. Not gentle rain. Hard, unrelenting rain that battered Mae’s dark blue jacket and left a ringing in her ears.
She broke into a run, striding through puddles and letting the water splash up to her knees. She’d be freezing later, but right now all she felt was the pulse of adrenaline in the pit of her stomach.
Next to her, Neve was breathing heavily. She caught him looking over his shoulder. “They’re still with us!” he yelled.
Mae simply nodded and kept running.
After weeks holed up in this godforsaken town, she knew it like the back of her hand. The locals couldn’t outsmart her. Not anymore. “This way!” She tore down an alleyway between two large buildings. Neve grabbed her arm.
“Are you sure? Where does it—”
“Trust me.” Mae pulled herself free and kept running. At the end, a tall wire fence loomed in front of them. Without even stopping, Mae bounded onto a nearby dumpster, propelled herself at the fence, grabbed the top of it and vaulted over, scrambling halfway down, then throwing herself to the ground.
She landed crouched, knees bent, palms on the slick concrete. When she looked up, Neve was struggling. He was shorter than her, having trouble heaving his leg over. When he did, for a too-long moment, he simply hung there—as if he was hoping the fire department would arrive with a trampoline for him to fall onto.
“Move it, Neve. Let’s go!” Mae straightened herself up and looked past him. There they were. The group of locals who now called themselves the Freemen.
Jacob was at the front, practically salivating as he locked eyes with Mae. He was tall and skinny with tattooed arms and pierced nostrils. He made her skin crawl.
The rest of them were different, mostly ordinary townsfolk who’d got caught up in the idea that Jacob and his cronies could protect them. From what, Mae hadn’t yet figured out.
Right from the beginning, when the Militia had tried to take charge, tried to help the people of the town, there had been problems. Mae had always known that the locals hated the base being taken over — ever since it was turned into a high-tech training facility, the conspiracy theorists had been having a field day—but she had genuinely thought they would welcome the military taking control.
Surely, the one thing everyone wanted when the power went out was to be assured that law and order still existed? Still counted for something. That people weren’t going to be allowed to start doing whatever they wanted whenever they wanted.
But when Mae’s captain had stumbled upon looters, and a local teenager had been killed, Jacob had seized his chance. He’d tasted blood, and like a vampire, sucked the town dry of compassion. He had painted the soldiers as the bad guys, and himself as the town’s savior.
And they had been fighting him ever since.
More than once, Mae had asked Neil why they didn’t just pack up and leave. “Because we can’t abandon the folks of this town, Mae. That’s why,” he’d said, again and again.
Finally, Neve let go of the fence and tumbled to the ground. He landed on his side with a thud, cried out, and rolled over. Looking at him, Mae wasn’t sure how he ever passed basic training.
“This way.” She barely gave him a moment to catch his breath before tearing off down the alley.
Behind her, Jacob let out a loud whistle. She heard feet hitting wire as he and his men began their ascent. If she was wrong, if she’d miscalculated their position, then this could be it. She and Neve could finish the day as Jacob’s captives. And she knew what he did to captives who were soldiers.
Halfway down the alley, this time approaching a true dead end—a large brick wall—Mae spotted what she’d been looking for. A beaten-up black door.
Spinning on her heels, she turned and charged toward it. It clattered back on its hinges and she pulled Neve inside with her.
“A bar?” Neve looked around. The room they’d entered was dimly lit, just the smallest amount of light filtering in from the street. Rain pounded the windows. “It stinks.” Neve wrinkled his nose but Mae ignored him.
Striding into the middle of the room, she grabbed a long wooden table and began to drag it toward the door. “Help me,” she grunted.
Neve stepped up and took hold of the opposite end. Together, they hauled the table to the door and positioned it in front, then lifted a second on top and stacked some chairs in front.
“That’ll hold them off for a few minutes.” Mae glanced up at the windows. They were high, unreachable, and too small for a person to get through. The only way for Jacob to get in would be to use brute force, or to go back the way he’d come and use the front entrance.
And by that time, she and Neve would be long gone.
They were at the end of the bar, heading through an archway that led to another room and the door onto the street, when they heard gunshots.
Mae counted. One. Two. Three.
Neve turned and shouldered his weapon.
“Ignore it, keep going. They’re just making noise. They can’t get through.” Mae quickened her pace. When they reached the front door, she stopped, pulled it open just a few inches and looked out. Then a bit farther. Then farther still. There was no sign of movement in the street.
Long-abandoned, it was now nothing more than two long lines of empty stores. Most had been looted, windows broken, cleared of anything useful. She’d made a midnight trip to the pharmacy last week, to see if there was anything left that they could use to boost their own medical supplies. But the only thing she found was a box of gel icepacks that had to be kept in the freezer in order to work.
Briefly, as often happened, an image of her previous life flashed through her mind. Her parents, standing in their kitchen in Texas. Beads of sweat on her father’s forehead. Her mother’s cheeks flushed. The freezer open and dripping onto the floor.
“Of all the days for it to die,” her mom had laughed, tucking a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear and wrinkling her nose, “it had to be the hottest day of the darn year.”
“I don’t care,” Mae had said. She’d been sitting on the countertop, swinging her legs, staring at the glorious stack of ice cream cartons they’d have to work their way through to save throwing them away.
“I’m with Mae,” her dad had said, tweaking Mae’s chin with his index finger. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have ice cream for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
Mae blinked hard and forced the image from her mind.
These were the hardest to bear. The memories from when she was younger. Six. Eight. Ten. From when they were stupidly happy. An in-sync little unit, the three amigos. She wondered whether it was strange that remembering happy times was harder than remembering the sad ones.
She’d asked Neil about it once, but as usual, talking about anything close to feelings or their personal lives had made him twitchy. It was an unwritten rule between them; don’t tell me about your life and I won’t tell you about mine.
As they jogged across the street, Neve looked back over his shoulder. He was always doing that; using his senses all wrong. Relying on his eyes when his ears could do the job. If her dad’s injury had taught her anything, it was that—as soldiers—they should use every tool at their disposal and use it in the right way. In the rain, they’d hear the splash of footsteps if someone was following them.
She was about to tell him to concentrate on where they were going when the crack of a gun made her jump. She stopped, whirled around, ready to return fire but completely unable to see where the shot had come from.
The sky was thick and gray, the rain blurring her sight. She looked at the broken storefronts of nearby buildings, then up at their roofs. Nothing.
“Let’s go!” she yelled. But as soon as they moved, another shot rang out. And this time, Neve fell to the ground.
Mae wavered on the spot. The bullet had hit his neck. There was blood. Too much of it. She’d seen wounds like that before, but she’d never seen one bleed into the rain and pool in the street that way.
“Neve….”
He blinked at her. He was holding his neck. “Don’t leave me.”
Mae screwed her eyes shut. Another shot. But the sound was distorted. She had no idea where it was coming from. When she opened them, she shook her head.
Another shot.
“I’m sorry, Neve.”
Another.
“I have to go.”
Another.
“I’m sorry.”
Before he could reply, she turned and ran.
By the time she reached the fence that surrounded the base, she was shaking. Whether it was from the cold that was seeping through her clothes and into her skin or the image of Neve’s face as he pleaded with her to stay, she had no idea.
Approaching the checkpoint, she shouted, “Sergeant Mae Peterson.” She searched her brain for today’s password. “Delta Gamma Upsilon.” She winced at the irony: don’t give up.
Helen was on duty. She gestured for the others to pull back the barrier and escorted Mae through it.
“Jacob was following me. I think I lost him. Don’t know if he’d have the guts to come this far.” Mae stopped when she reached the shelter of the overhang, leaned forward onto her thighs and took three deep, heavy breaths. Behind her, the barracks was in darkness.
“What happened?” Helen put her hand on Mae’s shoulder, looking from Mae to the barrier and back again. “I thought Neve was with you?”
“He was.” Mae was still panting. She stood up, reached for her hair—tied back into a braid that almost reached down to her waist—and twisted it until water dribbled out. “They got him.”
“Who?”
“I didn’t see. We were on Main Street. Shots were fired. I think it was a lone shooter, but in the rain, I couldn’t say for sure.” She steadied herself, then stepped back to lean against the wall. Suddenly, the strength had gone from her legs and she wasn’t sure how long she could remain standing. She pressed two fingers to her neck. “Here.” She tapped it. “There was nothing I could do.”
Helen pursed her lips and looked down at her feet. “Dammit.” She shook her head. “Thankfully, we’re moving out.”
“Moving out?” Mae’s eyes locked on Helen’s as the slightly older woman tilted her head to one side.
“First light. Cornell says—”
“Cornell? What about Ne—” Mae stopped herself. Bit her lower lip. “What about Captain Mackenzie?”
For a moment, Helen simply frowned. Then her features softened. She put her hand on Mae’s arm. “Mae… Mackenzie left. This morning.”
Mae blinked. “Left?”
“He said…” Helen cleared her throat. “He said he needed to go find his wife.”
A rushing sound filled Mae’s ears. Like she was going through a tunnel on a fast-moving train. Neil had gone to find his wife. Of course he had. And the way Helen was looking at her told her that she knew precisely why Mae was upset about it. Her cheeks began to flush. She stood up and brushed down her sopping-wet clothes.
“Thank you for telling me.” She stood up straight, feet together, shoulders pushed back, chin up. “I should inform Captain Cornell about Neve.”
Helen offered Mae a sympathetic smile.
Mae didn’t let herself look at it for long. “Stay on guard,” she said as she walked away. “If I know Jacob, he’s not going to let us go without a fight.”
She was barely inside the side entrance near the training square when she came face-to-face with Captain Cornell. Previously Neil’s right-hand man, he was now in charge. And the look on his face told her he was relishing every moment of it. “Ah. Sergeant Peterson. I was wondering when you’d return.” He looked behind Mae. “Sergeant Jenkins not with you?”
“I’m afraid not, Captain. Neve… Sergeant Jenkins was wounded in the field. Shot by one of the Freemen. He didn’t make it, sir.” She swallowed hard, praying to whatever god might exist that Neve was already gone, not still lying there.
“Ah.” Cornell’s jaw twitched. “Well, then it’s a good thing we’re moving out. Sounds like the Freemen are determined to run this town into the ground.”
“Captain.” Mae nodded.
The way Cornell was looking at her made her think he was waiting for her to ask about Neil. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.
“We leave at first light.” He stepped to one side, ready to end their conversation. “Go to the mess hall and you’ll be assigned duties for the coming hours. We need to move fast. Come morning, there should be no sign we were ever here.”
Mae resisted the urge to point out that the giant Army barracks and signage was a bit of a giveaway. Instead, she said, “Captain, if you don’t mind me asking, where are we moving out to?”
Looking her up and down, Cornell narrowed his eyes. “Actually, Sergeant, I do mind.” Then he walked away.
In the mess hall, Mae was surrounded by movement. Soldiers clearing up, packing, preparing to leave as the Captain had said, at first light.
“Peterson?” A sergeant holding a clipboard looked her up and down. “You’re to report to Bay Six and help load ammunition into the wagon. When that’s secure, you may pack your own things. I’m sure you’re aware, we leave at sunrise.”
“We have wagons now?” Mae couldn’t help her clipped tone. If they’d procured wagons and horses, leaving had been on the agenda for a while. Yet this was the first she was hearing about it.
The sergeant folded her arms and gave Mae a withering stare. “Any more questions, Sergeant?”
“No.” Mae’s jaw twitched. “No more questions.”
In Bay Six, she reported to another sergeant with another clipboard, then set about carrying weapons and ammo from the store. Four horse-drawn wagons were lined up beside the building. Each was surrounded by armed guards.
Mae looked up at the sky. Cataloging and moving their supplies would take all night. At this rate, she doubted there would be time for her to pack her own things as well as finish the job here.
It was nearing sunrise when they loaded the final box of ammo.
“Permission to return to the dorm and pack, sir?” She stood, straight as a board, in front of the sergeant in charge.
He didn’t speak, but nodded curtly at her.
As soon as she was out of sight, Mae broke into a run. In the mess hall, she slowed to a quick march, then once through the door ran toward the dorm.
Hers was the only bed that hadn’t been stripped. The others were all bare and the locker doors beside them were hanging open, completely empty.
Mae grabbed her sleeping bag and rolled it tightly, then secured it with its thick black strap. Pulling her pack from beneath her bed, she opened her locker and began pulling things out. Spare clothes, boots, socks, a book. She stopped as she picked up the final object. A phone. Her cell phone, which hadn’t worked in months. She turned it over in her hand. She looked at the open pack on the bed and contemplated throwing it in; it barely weighed anything. What would be the harm?
Her hand was hovering over the backpack when she changed her mind, tossed it back into the locker, and closed the door.
Checking the pockets for her other supplies—water, protein bars, first-aid kit—her fingers brushed the small inside zipper. The tiny, concealed pouch inside the back pocket. She sat down on the bed and slid the zipper across. Her fingers instantly found what she was looking for, a small, crumpled photograph. She smoothed it out in her lap. It was a photo of her, her parents, and their dog Jessamine. Back home in Texas, sitting on the porch. Her gran took the picture. It was her mom’s birthday. There was a cake on the table.
On the back of the picture, her father had scribbled the date it was taken and the message: Come and visit me in Thunder Bay any time you like. I love you, Mae Flower. XXX
He’d sent it to her when he’d first arrived there, but she’d never responded. In fact, she remembered it irking her that he’d sent a family photograph when he’d made the decision to excommunicate himself from the family and move to the middle of nowhere.
Now, all she felt looking at it was a tug of nostalgia.
“Thunder Bay,” she whispered. “Are you still there, Dad?”
She brushed her thumb across her parents’ faces, then looked at her pack. She was alone. There was no one here. She could take her things, sneak out, and head for Ontario right now. Join him and Jessamine. Maybe even find Mom.
