I definitely need that truck.
She skirted around the hood of the Chevy, the rifle ready to shoot the second man on sight. He must have had plenty of time to prepare for her by now. It had taken her how long to climb up the ditch and then jog over? Twenty seconds? Maybe thirty?
More than enough time. Maybe he was going to make a final bloody stand, hoping to take her with him. She wasn’t going to give him that chance if she could help it. She was tired of giving people the benefit of the doubt. They always ended up disappointing her, like Josh…
But the man wasn’t a threat. Not anymore.
He sat on the highway, back against the driver side door, trying desperately to tie a handkerchief around his bleeding ankle. His face was locked in a tight grimace, sweat pouring down his temple and chin, and he didn’t seemed to notice her at all. He was young, too. He couldn’t have been more than twenty, and “Darren” was stenciled over his nametag.
Gaby tightened her finger on the M4’s trigger.
Darren finally realized she was there and looked up. He didn’t make a move for his weapons and only clenched his teeth in pain. “Please, please don’t shoot.”
Gaby stared at him. He had soft blue eyes and a burgeoning stubble. He didn’t look dangerous, but then, none of them did. It wasn’t what they did that made them her enemy; it was what they were committed to.
“Please,” Darren said again. “God, please, don’t kill me.”
She wanted to shoot him. It was the smart thing to do. He was the enemy and she was, without a doubt, stuck behind enemy lines. If she let him go, he would alert the others to her presence. If Josh had sent him, he would go back and tell him where she was. Josh would immediately know where she was heading, and what roads she would take.
Letting this man (boy) go would be the dumbest thing she could do at this very moment. Will would shoot him. He wouldn’t even hesitate.
So why was she?
Gaby breathed for the first time in what seemed like hours and took her finger off the trigger. Darren, seeing her response, sighed with great relief.
“Don’t move,” Gaby said.
He nodded.
She scooted over and picked up his assault rifle. She pulled his sidearm out of its holster and shoved it into her waistband, then took a step back. “I need your magazines.”
Darren began removing them from his pouches and placing them on the road without hesitation. Gaby stepped back a little bit more and gave Darren a quick look, then glanced down the road and waved with both hands at the girls. She hoped they would understand and was grateful to see all three rising and running up the road as fast as they could. From this distance, they looked like stick figures twinkling against the sun.
She looked back at Darren as he took out the last magazine. “Is there gas in the truck?”
He nodded. “We filled it up this morning.”
“From where?”
“In town.”
“Dunbar?”
“Yes.”
“You were there last night?”
“No, I arrived this morning.”
“What are you doing out here? Are you looking for someone?”
He looked reluctant to answer.
“Are you really going to make me ask twice?” she said, trying to inject as much menace as she could into her voice. Will wouldn’t have had a problem with it, but then, she wasn’t an ex-Army Ranger.
“There were people still left in the city,” Darren said. “We were supposed to make sure no one tried to leave.”
“Did Josh send you?”
“Who?”
She stared at his face. Was he lying to her? The way he had answered the question — quickly, without even taking a second to think about it — made him either the world’s best liar or he was telling the truth. Josh hadn’t sent him. He didn’t even seem to know who Josh was.
If Josh didn’t send you, then who did?
“Never mind,” she said.
Gaby glanced over again. She could make out Claire in the lead, with Milly behind her, and Donna lagging in the back because of the heavy supply bag she was carrying.
“Where’s the key?” she asked Darren.
“Inside,” he said. Then, blinking in the sun at her, “Are you going to kill me?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
His face turned ghostly white. “Please…”
“Stop begging,” she said, fighting the growing irritation.
“Be a man,” she wanted to say. “Accept the consequences of your decisions and your actions. You and Josh and the rest of them.”
Instead, she motioned for him to get away from the truck. He struggled to his feet, then dragged one leg behind him as he hobbled away, leaving a bloody trail in his wake. His eyes shifted down the road for a brief moment.
“Expecting reinforcements?” she asked.
He shook his head quickly. “No, I was just…” He didn’t finish and instead looked down at nothing.
She slung her rifle and drew the Glock, then opened the driver side door. The key was in the ignition. She pulled it out and pocketed it, then opened the back door and looked in. There were two cases of refilled water bottles in the back, unopened bags of MREs, and spare magazines thrown haphazardly across the seats.
“How many others are out here?” she asked.
He seemed to think about it. “This far out? Just us.”
She fixed him with a hard look.
He swallowed. “I swear.”
She didn’t know whether to believe him or not. She had never been particularly good at reading faces anyway, but Darren looked too scared to lie.
“I’m going to take your truck,” she said.
“Take it,” he said quickly.
The girls had reached them by now, Claire clutching her rifle at the sight of Darren. Donna was out of breath and leaned against the hood for support. Milly looked winded but was too busy being queasy at the sight of the dead soldier.
Claire returned Gaby’s pack, but her eyes were fixed on Darren. “What are we going to do with him?”
“I don’t know yet,” Gaby said. “What do you think?”
The girl was eyeballing Darren like a predator. Although he was five-ten and probably had one hundred pounds on the thirteen-year-old, Darren still shrunk back from her intense stare. He glanced from Claire to Gaby, then back again.
Gaby couldn’t tell if he was more afraid of her or the kid.
Definitely the kid, she thought with a smile.
23
Will
“Am I dead?”
“Almost,” Will said.
“Thank God,” Danny groaned. “Because if I’m dead and your ugly mug’s the first thing I see, it’s a pretty good bet I didn’t go, you know, up there.” He hiked a thumb upward, then looked down at his shirt, which was covered in a thick film of dry blood from last night. “All this red stuff mine?”
“Yup. There’s more on your face.”
“Shit.”
“Yup.”
“So that explains the sore joints, aching bones, and this wicked pounding inside my skull.”
Danny winced as he sat up, pushing back against the wall for support. In the glow of morning that filled up the bathroom, his face was covered in dried blood, and to look at him, it was unfathomable that he was still alive. His nose was crooked and broken at the bridge. Will had stuffed two wads of year-old toilet paper into each nostril.