“But we’re not those kind of people,” said Cynthia. “At least, I think we’re not. Right, John?”
“We’re not letting him do it,” said John. “Come on, Tom. You’re talking suicide here. And over what? They harassed you a little? Trust me, far worse has been done to many. Cynthia’s the one in real danger here. They’re after women. You’d get off with just dying. What awaits her is far worse.”
“Maybe we can attack them together then,” said Tom.
“Keep your voice lower,” said John. “Come on. We don’t have much time. It doesn’t take that long to figure out you’re not inside the building.”
“Maybe they’re waiting for me.”
“Maybe. But who knows what’s going to happen.”
Suddenly, Tom shot up. He did it forcefully, breaking free from their grasp.
“Tom!” hissed John.
But Tom was already out of the little shelter, moving like a wild animal.
Cynthia and John looked at each other. They had the same thought, apparent in both their glances. Did they risk their own lives to rush out and stop Tom from doing something incredibly stupid, even to the point of tackling him if necessary?
Cynthia looked away. She started to get up, moving quickly.
“We’ve got to get him,” she said.
John grabbed her, and pulled her back down.
“No!” hissed John. “We’re not doing that, Cynthia.”
John held her body against his as the two of them watched Tom approaching the building. He’d been rushing forward like an animal at first. Now, he walked slowly and quietly, like he was stalking his prey. But that didn’t mean he stood a chance against four heavily armed men. Men who knew how to shoot, when Tom didn’t even have a clue.
18
“Where’s Max?”
“He went to find wood for a crutch,” said Mandy.
“He’s been gone a long time.”
Something wasn’t right. But Mandy couldn’t place it. She didn’t know exactly what it was. It was just a feeling of uneasiness, of something being amiss, out of balance.
Mandy looked around, starting to count heads.
Was someone missing?
“Where’d that woman go?” said Sadie.
“Who?”
“The prisoner.”
It hit Mandy like a ton of bricks.
The silent woman Mandy had found in the woods was missing. Completely gone.
And so was Max.
There was only one explanation.
She began making rapid mental calculations. Georgia couldn’t move quickly. She could barely walk. She’d have to stay at the Bronco for now.
But it’d be better if Mandy didn’t go alone, looking for Max. It’d be better to have a second gun, a backup.
Who could come? James was the only one really qualified. Sadie wasn’t yet someone to count on in difficult life-or-death situations. Not yet.
There was only one other gun with ammo anyway. Mandy couldn’t leave Georgia and Sadie there, unarmed and undefended.
“OK,” said Mandy. “I’m going alone. No, James, you’re staying here.”
James opened his mouth, and shot her a look. He was growing into the type of man who didn’t leave others to do the dangerous work. He wanted to be there when there was trouble. He wanted to help.
“You’re staying here with your mom and sister, James,” said Mandy. “They need you.”
“I’ll be fine on my own, Mandy,” said Georgia.
But her voice was straining with pain as she struggled to just stand there next to the Bronco.
“You’re not in any shape to fight, let alone defend your family,” said Mandy. “What I said is final.”
Without another word, Mandy was off, into the woods, leaving her friends behind.
James was getting good with a handgun. He’d be able to defend them, if it came to that. Hopefully there was no one else around. Hopefully Max was the only one in danger.
Hopefully Max was still alive. It was entirely possible, Mandy realized, that Max was already dead. The silent woman was a complete unknown. Who knew what she was capable of, or what she’d already done. She could have silently slit Max’s throat when he wasn’t expecting it, and right this moment she could be circling back around to the Bronco to dispatch the rest of them.
Although to what end, Mandy couldn’t imagine. It wasn’t like the Bronco was any use to anyone. Not without gasoline. And their own supplies were so pitifully low that… well, it wasn’t like it wasn’t worth stealing anything. They may not have had food or ammunition, but they did have the ammo-less rifles, the camping supplies, the water filters.
If the woman had just spoken, Mandy and the others would have been perfectly willing to help her. Maybe even to adopt her as one of their own. They weren’t cruel people. They were practical, sure, and hard decisions had been made, and would be made in the future. But that didn’t mean that this woman, if she’d been the sort to want to help out, to do what had to be done, couldn’t find a place in their little tribe.
Mandy knew she should be trying to move silently. But the dead leaves on the ground crackled with what seemed like every footstep. She tried to move slowly and carefully, but her heart was beating fast as she thought about what had happened to Max. She ended up moving fast, making more noise than she should have.
It didn’t seem like they were anywhere to be found.
Maybe Max was already lying on the ground, his throat cut, his blood pooling up around him.
Maybe he lay there, his skull punctured by a bullet. It wasn’t much comfort to Mandy to remember that she would have probably heard the shot.
Just when it seemed like she’d never find them, Mandy saw them.
Two figures up ahead. Mandy was coming up from the side.
The woman had a gun pointed at Max’s head. Max had his arms in the air.
Did the woman have Max’s Glock? The guns in the Bronco were all accounted for. Right?
Mandy reacted immediately. She threw herself to the ground, getting mostly behind a dead log that lay in the dead leaves.
The ground was cold, and Mandy pressed her body into it. She had her gun pointed towards the woman, her arms stretched out. She used the log to steady her aim.
Should she fire right away?
She should. Mandy knew it was the right thing to do.
The woman hadn’t seen her. Max hadn’t seen her. Or if he had, he hadn’t given any indication. He hadn’t given her presence away.
Mandy’s heart was pounding. She felt breathless.
Max could be dead any second. Who knew what the woman might do. The stranger was capable of anything. That was the only safe thing to assume.
Mandy’s finger was on the trigger. She needed to squeeze it. She needed to fire. She needed to shoot this woman dead.
There was every reason to act.
Every reason in the world.
This wasn’t the time for morals. And if it was, Mandy was morally in the right. How could she not be? Her friend had a gun pointed at his head. He could be dead in moments.
Mere moments.
This wasn’t the time for Mandy to get stuck. To freeze up.
But she wasn’t the one making the decision. Her brain was. Her body was.
Memories came flooding back, memories of the woman at the farmhouse that she’d murdered. Killed with a knife, in the most hands-on manner possible.
Mandy could see the woman’s lifeless face as clear as day in her memory, a memory that seemed to overwhelm the present, confusing and confounding her.
“What do you want?” said Max.
They were the first words that Mandy had heard from either Max or the stranger. They brought Mandy back to the real world, away from the painful memories.
“What do you think?” said the stranger.