“Did you want to shower, Wendy?” Ennis asked, coming back into the room with a glass of water.

  “Yes, that would be nice. I’ve got a clean change of clothes to change into,” he said, gesturing to a backpack and shooting a look at Nash.

  Nash looked down at his naked chest. “I wasn’t planning on the apocalypse. My stuff is mostly at a hotel in the city,” he explained. “I have a small pack outside, but the stuff in there’s dirtier than what I was wearing when I got in here.”

  Wendell rose from the couch. “I know where the bathroom is. I’ll use the one downstairs,” he said, shooting Nash a look that said he was more important because he knew where the bathroom was.

  Ennis sat down, a smile on his face.

  “How long have you known that guy?” Nash asked.

  “Since high school. He was the guy who was always there, you know? Like, you turned around and there he was. He was a decent guy but didn’t have a lot of friends. My brother and I kind of took him under our wing,” Ennis explained.

  “He’s, uh… different,” Nash said.

  Ennis laughed. “He’s an acquired taste. He doesn’t mean any harm. I think he just wants to be accepted.”

  “I guess.”

  “Come on, you can’t be that far out of high school. You have to know what it’s like,” Ennis prodded.

  Nash knew what people thought of him. “I’m eighteen, but I’ve been out of high school for a couple years. I graduated early—already earned my bachelor’s degree.”

  Ennis raised both his brows, his eyes widening in surprise. “You one of those prodigies?”

  Nash shrugged. “I don’t play a musical instrument, but I do know things.”

  “Good to know. I’ll bet you’ll be handy to have around.”

  They chatted a bit more about where they’d come from and briefly talked about their families, offering each other the proverbial small talk. Eventually, Nash noticed movement out of the corner of his eye and looked up to find Wendell standing in the hallway, listening to them talk. He looked angry—violent, even. A cold shiver ran down Nash’s spine. Wendell was definitely one to keep his eye on.

  24

  Zander jumped off the horse and moved towards the edge of the stream. There was a lot of disturbance on the ground. A hose was tied to a tree, telling him that someone had gone into the water. Most likely, that someone had been fishing out an injured person. Finally, it seemed he’d found signs of Merryman after days of searching. With every passing hour over the last few days, he’d grown madder and madder at Ben. But this looked like progress.

  It had seemed like a longshot to question people at the properties along the river, but finally he’d hit pay dirt when someone had told him they’d seen a body rushed by in the rapids on the night of the EMP—the old woman he’d spoken to had been guilt-ridden, and her family had thought she was hallucinating. Zander hadn’t disillusioned them, but had spoken to her at length. Not far beyond that property, the combination of rapids and a powerful stream shooting off from the river had led him here. Luck, maybe, but it seemed to be offering him the proof he needed that Austin was alive rather than drowned.

  Zander walked towards the house, noticing what looked like the skeleton of a small airplane and the rubble of a burnt-out building. He kept moving towards the house, his gun in hand, ready for anything.

  Quietly, he climbed the steps onto the porch before turning the door handle. It was locked. That had to be about the dumbest thing he’d ever heard of, all things considered. The window to the left had been smashed, a curtain billowing through the open space. He shook his head and climbed through the window.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he called out.

  No one answered, and no one came out. He searched the house for inhabitants and found it was empty. With the home cleared, he started a more thorough search, looking for signs his journalist had been there.

  Buzzing flies swarming a trash can drew his attention first, and he used a spatula to move stuff around until he found bloody bandages.

  “Gotcha!” he said with a grin, sure he was on the right path.

  Knowing he was in the right area, he began searching the living room again. He dropped to his knees and looked under the couch, searching for the USB drive or any other clue that would lead him to his quarry. Between the couch cushions, he found a wallet wedged in and forgotten. He opened it and saw Austin Merryman’s driver’s license photo staring back at him.

  With proof that he was on the right track in hand, he tossed the house, looking for food or other supplies before rushing back out with little to show for it. He had found business cards telling him the owner of the house was a vet. The burned building and the fenced-in pasture told him she’d probably had horses. It stood to reason that they had left on horseback. Merryman had been injured, obviously, but Zander couldn’t know how extensive the injuries had been or when they had left the farm.

  He paused in the gravel driveway, putting himself in the man’s shoes. He would have gone back to the trailer in search of his daughter first. By now, he might well have moved on to search her out at his brother’s house, and getting back to the RV would mean a delay of two days, if not more, given the forty-mile distance. No—it made more sense to set off for Colorado, and cut cross-country as he did so. He could ask for word of the Loveridges’ passing as he traveled. Worse came to worse, he’d travel more quickly than the injured journalist and collect his daughter for leverage.

  He smiled. “I’m coming for you now,” he whispered.

  With renewed confidence that he was going to succeed in his mission, he headed out. It was time to find the Loveridges. Traveling northwest through the afternoon, he determined that he’d stop at the first town he came to and see whether there’d been any indication of the exact path the Loveridges were taking. Just knowing whether they were stopping as they passed towns or traveling straight through would be worth the time.

  Near toward evening, he reached a gas station on the edge of a small town and slipped down from his mount to stretch his legs. The shelves had been picked clean, predictably enough. He grabbed a small jug of motor oil that remained, knowing everything had a use and thinking to put it in one of his saddlebags. Walking out, however, he noticed a bulletin board on the wall. There was a flyer tacked dead center, announcing a tent revival hosted by Jim Loveridge and family.

  He smiled, shaking his head. “You’re making this too easy.”

  He took down the picture of the happy, smiling family from Salt Lake City, Utah, and laughed. If the family didn’t drop the girl at her uncle’s house, for whatever reason, he’d still know where to find them, and by extension her. And if Zander knew the type, the Loveridge family wouldn’t be going quietly—whether this flyer had been tacked up at the gas station before or after things had gone dark, it signaled that they advertised their presence. Chances are, that wouldn’t change as they moved northwest. They’d be preaching from any pulpit they could find. Zander doubted they’d be moving very fast, either. Maybe the journalist was already well on his way to catching up with them if he and the vet were also traveling cross-country, but Zander suspected they’d stick to roads, and maybe Austin’s injuries would slow them down, as well. Either way, he had no doubt anymore that he’d catch either the man or his daughter. Which happened first was of little consequence. The daughter would be spared if he reached Austin first, or she wouldn’t be.

  “Easy prey,” he told himself as he headed back to his horse.

  25

  Savannah woke up suddenly, jerking up into a seated position and looking around the dark room she was in. For a brief second, she thought she was in her room at home—but she wasn’t that comfortable. Instead, she was on the cold, hard ground. Moisture clung to her skin, too, and she could feel jagged rocks poking through the mat she was on.

  She reached up and rubbed her aching head, her fingers moving over a large knot on the back of her head. That’s when she remembered everything. The horse had thrown her! All the more reason to hate horses anew.

  “Relax,” a woman’s voice came through the darkness.

  At first, she thought it was Tonya Loveridge or one of the other women in the group, though the voice sounded unfamiliar. Savannah blinked several times, making out the shape of a person not far from her. “Where am I?” she asked.

  “I can’t tell you that,” the unfamiliar voice replied, and now Savannah was sure this wasn’t anyone she knew.

  “Why?” she asked when it seemed the woman wouldn’t say anything more revealing.

  “We’re in hiding,” the voice answered simply.

  Savannah stared back at the shape, wondering if this was some sort of sick joke. Melodrama, much? “From who?”

  “Them,” the woman answered, so that Savannah nearly had to bite back a derisive laugh—it was as if the woman was trying to create mystery where none had to exist. “The people who are out there spreading lies. We’re doing what has to be done, and it has made us targets,” she continued.

  Savannah was thoroughly confused and annoyed. “Who is spreading lies?”

  “The people who claim God will save them. There is no God, Buddha, or any other deity.”

  “Oh,” Savannah breathed out. That was it then. She’d been picked up by the group of people responsible for the killing of so many innocent people simply because they were praying and believed in a higher power. Like the man who’d confronted them earlier, this woman had lost her reasoning or fallen prey to some crazy man’s persuasion.

  When Savannah remained quiet, the woman added, “Those people deserve to die! They brought this down on us!”

  “I should probably get back to my—” she stopped, unsure what the right word would be.

  “Your…?” the woman asked.

  “My parents.”

  “Who are your parents?” she asked.

  Savannah heard movement behind her then and realized they weren’t alone in the dark. “Where are we?” she asked again.

  “You’re safe. Where are your parents?” the woman pressed.

  “I don’t know. I don’t even know where I am,” she pointed out the obvious. “I got bucked off a horse, and that’s the last I remember. We were traveling.”

  “We only want to talk to you. We heard there is a band of missionaries traveling through the area. They are holding services and trying to recruit more followers into their cult. Are you with them? Or, have you seen these people? We have to get them before they get us,” the woman explained, suspicion apparent in her voice.

  “Why would missionaries want to hurt you?” she asked.

  “It’s us against them!”

  Savannah gulped down the lump in her throat, wishing that, at the very least, she had some light to see by. It would have made all of this far less strange and menacing—the way this woman talked, they might as well be in an old horror movie where half the people had gone crazy. And yet, this was the world they were in? Where this woman and whoever she was with were hunting missionaries? There was no doubt in Savannah’s mind that they were talking about the Loveridge family. She’d known Jim had made a mistake by being so vocal in his love for God and the Bible. He’d drawn too much attention to himself, and now they were all being hunted. In fact, she’d been caught.

  “I haven’t seen them,” she lied.

  “Maybe your parents have?” a male voice suggested from behind her, causing her to jump and squeal.

  “I don’t think so,” she squeaked out, suddenly all the more terrified that they’d discover who she really was and execute her like they had so many others.

  “Why don’t we get her some water?” the faceless male voice replied.

  Savannah’s heart was pounding in her chest now, fear making her shake, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. Then, at a moment’s notice, the area flooded with light, hurting Savannah’s eyes. She squinted, looking around her and realizing she was in a cave.

  She watched the woman who had been talking to her move away from the covered cave opening. She returned a minute later, leaving whatever it was they were using for a door open, flooding the cave with light. A blanket maybe, Savannah thought—nothing that was hard to move, anyway.

  “What time is it?” she asked.

  There was a soft laugh. “We don’t tell the time anymore. It’s morning. You’ve been asleep all night,” the woman told her.

  “I have?” she shrieked, terrified the Loveridges would have moved on without her.

  “Will your parents be looking for you?” the man asked.

  Savannah scoffed. “Of course!” But, watching the woman’s face, she realized she had said the wrong thing.

  “We’ll keep you safe with us,” she said, not looking at Savannah. That didn’t seem like a good sign.

  “I can walk,” Savannah pointed out. “I’ll go ahead and go find them. Thank you for taking care of me last night,” she added with what she hoped was a friendly smile. Then, without another word, she tried to get to her feet—only to have her arm yanked back down by the man behind her. She spun around, staring into cold, dead eyes.

  “You’ll stay here,” he said firmly.

  Savannah froze, trying to think of any way to persuade him to let her go, but he’d been so insistent… nothing came to her. “Okay.”

  A minute later, she sipped water from the plastic cup she’d been given, her eyes watching the woman and staring out the cave entrance. She could see nothing but trees beyond the opening, but realized that she was going to have to escape, and soon. The Loveridges couldn’t come looking for her—they’d be slaughtered.

  “I’m going to lie down if that’s okay? I’m feeling a little dizzy,” she said, putting her hand up to her head and swaying—hopefully, not too obviously.

  “Lie down and get some rest,” the woman said gently. “You took a hard fall.”

  Savannah lay down, resting her head on what felt like a coat folded over several times. She could feel a zipper and buttons digging into her head, but didn’t acknowledge the discomfort. Instead, she went completely still, feigning sleep. It wasn’t long before she heard the man get up and walk out of the cave, and the woman following him. Savannah opened her eyes, watching them as they huddled together outside of the entrance. They were talking in soft whispers. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she had a feeling the woman was trying to help her. She’d play on that.

  The woman came back into the cave as the man walked away, pulling what looked like a heavy blanket over the entrance again and plunging the cave into darkness. Savannah could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She could sense the danger around her and knew she had to escape. She had to warn Malachi and his family.

  Humming filled the silence in the cave then, coming from the woman. The sound was soothing, and Savannah almost fell back to sleep but forced herself to stay alert. She would likely only get one chance, and she couldn’t afford to miss it.

  An idea popped into her head. She stirred, pretending to just be waking up. “I need to go to the bathroom,” she murmured.

  “Oh, uh, let me see what he wants to do,” the woman replied, getting up and moving towards the entrance.

  Once again, Savannah got a look at her surroundings. There were blankets spread around the cave. She was lying next to what had to be a firepit for cooking. Blackened rocks were in a circle with a pile of twigs and branches piled up nearby against the back wall of the cave. She guessed the inside of the cave was about the size of a large living room, but more long than square. There were six makeshift beds, not counting the one she was on.

  “I’ll take you,” the woman said, coming back into the cave.

  Savannah pretended to struggle to get to her feet, swaying when she stood and making a show of reaching out to the wall for support. She wanted this woman to think she was weak, injured and unstable. Focused on staying in character, Savannah only shuffled along as the woman led her out into a wooded area. There were three men standing off to the left, skinning a deer. Savannah cringed at the horrific sight of it, the animal hanging dead from a heavy tree branch.

  “This way,” the woman said, leading her in the opposite direction of the men.

  With Savannah gripping onto random trees as they moved, as if seeking support, they walked about ten feet into the trees before the woman stopped.

  “Here?” Savannah asked.

  “Yes.”

  Savannah hesitated, glancing back toward the cave as she leaned more heavily on a tree. “Can we go a little further? I can still see the men,” she pleaded.

  The woman looked back. “Fine, but not too far. He’ll get mad.”

  Savannah nodded. “Okay.”

  She kept moving, slowing leading the woman away now and trying to put as much distance between her and the men as she could. Her eyes scanned the terrain, looking for the best route to take when she made her break for it. She was definitely going to run.

  “Here, this is far enough,” the woman ordered her.

  Savannah moved to go behind a tree. “Can you turn around, please?” she asked sweetly, making sure she was leaning on a tree when she did so.

  The woman watched her for a moment, hesitating, but finally did as requested. And the second her back was turned, Savannah took off.

  “Stop!” the woman shouted.

  Savannah kept running, not bothering to look behind her. She ducked her head, dodging tree branches and twigs as best she could. She had no idea where she was going, but knew that getting away from the people who’d been holding her was the first priority. What felt like ten minutes passed as she sprinted away from the cave, though she knew it probably wasn’t that long. Soon enough, as her breath began coming in snatches, she saw open space up ahead and pushed her body to move faster, breaking through the trees and finding a road in front of her. She recognized the area as the same place she had walked along yesterday with the group. She dug deep and found the energy to pick up her speed now that she wasn’t impeded by trees in her path, crossing over it and into the trees on the other side, where she veered right to run parallel with the road.

 

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