Eden's Promise, page 15
Aaron’s own stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten since last night, since he was saving most of the calories for Annie and the baby. But he needed to eat soon, to have the energy to get them over the hills to the coast. They had to find food.
Which meant he was going to have to approach someone. That had not paid off for them lately. He had to hope someone would have mercy on a new mother.
He lowered himself to the tree on the other side of Annie and shifted the baby into the cradle of his arms. The infant—Annie hadn’t named him yet—pursed his lips and suckled.
“Sorry, dude,” Aaron murmured, and pulled the baby closer to keep him warm.
He had to keep the two of them alive, because he had let Eden walk away. God, he couldn’t wrap his head around her being out there with just a handgun and her wits. He went over and over in his head—how could he have stopped her? She was determined to get to her sister. At least she knew her sister was alive but what would she encounter on those seventy miles?
The baby fell asleep, and the night’s silence was unnerving. The baby’s cries had made him nervous, thinking they might draw an animal, or some other unwelcome guests investigating, and he wouldn’t be able to hear them approach. Now, though, he heard nothing, and the absence of sound made him itch. He dared not move without reason and wake the baby. Little guy needed to get as much rest as he could.
The kid needed a name. The fact that Annie hadn’t given him one bothered the hell out of him. Her reasoning seemed to be that she didn’t want to name him in case she lost him. Or because she didn’t want to be attached to him. He got that the baby wasn’t conceived under the best circumstances, but hell, not the kid’s fault. He was fully dependent on them, and Aaron was determined not to fail him.
***
Aaron woke when the baby was lifted from his arms, and he blinked up at Annie in the watery morning light. “Did I fall asleep?” he croaked.
“Snoring and everything. It was kinda sweet that little guy didn’t seem to mind.”
Not sweet, Aaron thought, climbing to his feet, hard to do with arms stiff from holding a baby all night.The little guy was too weak to protest. Even now, as he woke up, he only made soft mewling sounds. Annie mattter-of-factly lifted her sweatshirt and offered a breast. The baby suckled for only a few minutes before he broke the connection with a weak cry.
“Get your things. Today, we’re finding food.”
Houses were few and far between in this part of California, but Aaron figured they were more likely to be occupied than homes in the cities. So no matter that it cost him to walk up long, winding driveways, he checked every one, returning time and again to Annie on the road with a shake of his head.
Where the hell was everyone?
The sun was beginning to set behind the mountains and every muscle in his hungry body protested when he came across a driveway with a heavy iron gate. This one wasn’t mechanized, though. It was padlocked to the fence, and rolled back on wheels. The lock wasn’t rusty with disuse, either.
Hope welled in his weary chest. “Wait here.” He climbed over with less athleticism than he usually displayed, his muscles watery from hunger.
Annie glanced over her shoulder at the darkening road. “No thank you.” She passed him the baby and climbed over after him, stumbling and falling to the dirt driveway, then standing and brushing herself off.
“Let’s go,” she said.
As they crested the hill, they saw animals—cattle, horses, goats, dogs. People lived here, or the animals would have scattered. The fences were in good repair, and the house, well, it was a fairy tale house, complete with a white picket fence and smoke coming out of the chimney.
But he couldn’t let his excitement overwhelm his good sense. He knew how he’d welcome strangers at dusk, and it wouldn’t be with open arms. His leverage was wriggling in his arms.
He handed the baby to Annie so his hand free to grab the pistol at his hip. He hoped the occupants didn’t see that as a threat, but they had to understand where he was coming from.
The porch light came on, startling him into stopping, and he realized that the hum he’d been hearing was from a generator. He lifted his hands away from his hips and stepped slightly away from Annie when an older gentleman walked out on the porch, a shotgun leveled at his chest.
“I’m willing to work for some food,” he called across the distance. “I’ve got a new mother and infant here who need food. I don’t have anything to trade, but I’ll do any job you need me to do.”
“You armed?”
“Yes, sir, we both are. Dare not be, out there.”
“Leave your weapons where you stand.”
He sure as hell didn’t want to do that. Look what had happened the last time he’d been unarmed. But he was desperate, so he placed his guns and knives on the gravel drive, then took the baby as Annie did the same, looking into his eyes as she did so. He wanted to reassure her, but he couldn’t be sure. He only knew they had no choice.
“The lady and the baby can come up,” the man said. “And you move away from those guns.”
Aaron moved two body lengths into the grass, away from the weapons, which seemed to satisfy the old man. Annie walked slowly up the path, the baby awkward in her arms.
A woman burst out of the house then, past the old man to Annie and the baby. She peeled back the blanket to look at the infant’s face, then wrapped an arm around Annie, who stiffened, and guided her into the house.
Aaron relaxed his stance to show he was willing to wait, that the safety and health of Annie and the baby were of utmost importance.
“You military?” the man asked, gun still aimed as Annie and the woman disappeared into the house.
“Yes, sir, Navy. Captain Aaron Jennings.”
“The hell you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?”
“Long story, sir.”
The man relaxed his hold on the gun, aiming at Aaron’s feet instead, and inclined his head toward the house as if listening to what was going on.
“When was the last time you ate? You look like death.”
“Day before yesterday, sir.”
The man shouldered the gun. “Stow it with the ‘sir.’ I was a staff sergeant, Captain. I’m Bill Gunther. Is the young lady your wife?”
“No, sir. Like I said, long story.”
“Come on in,” the man said, his tone wary.
Aaron didn’t blame him. He stepped into the warm house and saw Annie sitting at the dining room table beside the older woman, who held the baby. Two younger women carried in plates of food from the kitchen. Aaron must have made a sound because the older woman looked up and her gaze narrowed.
“What are you thinking, taking this woman all over the place when she just had a baby? And with no food! You should be flogged.”
“It’s not his fault,” Annie said, her voice a little shaky as she focused on the vegetables, homemade cheese and cornbread. “I wanted to go. I needed to go. I thought it was our best chance.”
The woman placed her hand on the baby’s chest. “It probably wasn’t. Now don’t gorge yourself, you’ll just end up getting sick, and that won’t help. We don’t have a lot in the way of protein right now, but the dairy will help. And the avocados.”
“We thank you,” Aaron croaked, embarrassed when his own stomach growled.
The woman’s lips thinned. “Come. Sit. Eat something. But not much. You don’t want to throw it all up.”
As Aaron struggled not to make a pig of himself with the fresh food—God, the green beans were heaven—the woman, Nancy Gunther, unwrapped the baby.
“What’s his name?”
“I haven’t named him yet,” Annie said after swallowing a sip of milk.
“Not something you thought about?” Nancy checked his umbilical cord.
“No.”
“Do you mind if I give him a bath? Then he might be ready for his dinner.”
“That would be good,” Annie said wearily. “That would be real good. He hasn’t had a bath since he was born.”
Aaron and Annie remained at the table with Bill as Nancy carried the baby into the kitchen. Aaron couldn’t help himself from picking up the crumbs of cornbread from the tablecloth. A wail from the infant had Annie tensing, and rising, looking in the swinging door. Her shoulders relaxed, and she slumped back to the table.
“Do you mind if we sleep in your barn?” Aaron asked. “It’s been awhile since we’ve been able to sleep without one of us keeping watch.”
“The baby and Annie can sleep in the basement,” Bill said. “It’s too cold in the barn for the baby.”
“How many people live here?” Aaron asked, his hand shaking as he took a bite of cheese from the plate.
“I think I’d rather hear your story first.” Bill sat at the head of the table, gun within easy reach.
Aaron didn’t know if he had the energy to go through the whole thing, but he started at the beginning, his struggle to get home, to get to his wife, to get to his parents. A glass of water, cool clear well water, appeared in front of him, delivered by one of the young women, and he drank gratefully before he told them about Eden and her mother and Eden’s need to get to her sister.
Nancy rejoined them with the baby swaddled tightly, and handed the sweet-smelling infant back to his mother. She took a seat beside her husband, who reached over and took her hand on top of the table. Bill nodded, and Aaron continued with his story.
He watched Annie as he talked about Commander Wayne. His instinct was to skim over the details, but he figured he owed the Gunthers the honesty of telling them why he’d dragged a new mother halfway across the state, as well as letting them know what might be coming after them. The Gunthers exchanged a look. Aaron paused, waiting for them to decide they didn’t want the trouble and kick them out. They’d be wise to do so, though that wouldn’t necessarily save any of them.
“So you see why Annie wanted to get herself and the baby as far away from him as possible.”
Bill looked at Annie. “Is this commander the baby’s father?”
She nodded miserably.
“So he’s going to come after the baby.”
“Most likely. We don’t want to stay long, maybe a day, for her to gain her strength.”
“It’s going to take longer than that,” Nancy said.
“He won’t necessarily find us. We told him we were heading to Texas, so I’m hoping he’ll go south instead of west,” Aaron continued.
“We’re in good shape, I think,” Bill said consideringly, watching Annie as she fed the baby. “You can sleep in the barn.”
Aaron glanced at Annie, who nodded. He knew he should see to her safety and comfort but he was weary to the bone. “I’m going to turn in, then, if it’s all right. I’ll be up early to do whatever it is you need me to do.”
But even as he stretched out on the blanket in the hay, as exhausted as he was, as secure as he felt, he couldn’t sleep. Because he was safe, but he didn’t know if Eden was.
***
Eden kept her shoulders straight as she and Christine were led into one of the storage facilities. She was afraid the men escorting her heard her stomach grumble as they passed stacks of Oreos. She hadn’t had chocolate in so long, and her mouth started to water at the sight of the blue packages. Ridiculous, since she had no idea what was going to happen to the two of them in the next few minutes, that she missed sweets the most.
They were marched down aisles of the most incongruous collections—bug spray, marshmallows, cough medicine, liquor. Necessities and luxuries, all taken from the rigs outside.
They turned a corner toward an open bay door. A tall lanky man turned toward them, a clipboard in his hand. He was mid-thirties, his hair past his collar, his jaw shadowed with stubble, his eyes bright and quick. His gaze lingered on Eden for a moment before he looked back at the clipboard.
“These two came up on the camp from the north,” one of the men announced.
The tall man continued to study the information in his hand. “Were they alone?”
“I’ve got men exploring the area now, but it appears they were.”
The man lowered the clipboard and leaned over the table separating them into Christine’s face. “Were you alone?”
The young woman’s spine snapped straight. “We were.”
The man straightened and picked up the clipboard again. “Kill them.”
Eden’s knees wobbled at the casual tone, and she yanked away from the man holding her arm. “We won’t say anything,” she said quickly. “We wouldn’t even know how to find this place again. All I want is to get a ride to Sacramento to my sister.”
He glared at her. “All I want is a secure location that no one is going to blab about.” He glanced at the man beside her. “Kill them.”
“They might bring a good price,” one of the other men said, assessing. “They’re young and not bad to look at.”
The man in charge rolled his eyes. “They’re trouble. Bruised, battered. Fighters. Any of our clients would not thank us. Kill them.”
“There is someone who would pay for us,” Eden said quickly. “Someone who wants us, who is looking for us, and will likely offer a reward.”
“Eden!” Christine said sharply, betrayed.
Eden knew what she was risking, but she would rather end up back with Commander Wayne than be dead.
The man considered for a moment. “Why does he want you?”
“We escaped from him, stole from him. We know he’s looking for us.”
“Put them in number twelve,” he said with a wave of the clipboard.
She really really hoped number twelve wasn’t a euphemism for a grave or something. They were marched down a different aisle and the tension in her chest tightened when she saw the numbers painted on the doors of the storage units. Sixteen, fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve. What—or who—was in those other units?
One of the men stepped forward to roll up the door and ushered the two women into the empty space, lit only by a dim security light. Of course a place like this would have a generator and the gas to run it. The room was cold, though, and she turned to their captors.
“Can we have a blanket or something?” she asked, but her only answer was the rolling of the door as it closed, leaving them in the dark.
Christine turned on her. “What the hell is wrong with you, telling that man about Wayne being after us?”
“He wants a profit, otherwise he wouldn’t be doing this.” She waved her hand around. “If he can sell us rather than kill us, let’s do that.”
“What makes you think Wayne won’t kill us? Or worse?”
Eden remembered her terror when she thought Wayne was coming to rape her, and Christine had lived it. But, “As long as we’re alive, we have hope.”
Christine slumped against the wall, arms wrapped around herself. “Do you think they’ll feed us, at least?”
***
The two women huddled together, shivering, when the door rolled open again. The man who’d ordered them killed stood there, flanked by two armed men.
“Come,” he said simply, and turned away.
Eden scrambled stiffly to her feet, cold to the bone in the metal and concrete unit, and helped Christine up, dragging her from the unit before he could change his mind.
“Can we get something to eat?” she asked the man as they followed him down the sidewalk of the industrial park. “Maybe some warmer clothes?”
“This isn’t a charity,” he said, opening a glass door and into what used to be a Mexican restaurant, based on the remnants of paint on the door.
And she had nothing to barter, nothing he didn’t already have a hundredfold. At least the restaurant was warm, though she still shivered uncontrollably.
The man sat at a laminate table and signaled to the men, who stepped forward and gave each woman a scratchy Army blanket. Eden was never so grateful in her life, and she clutched it around herself with stiff fingers.
“Who are you?” the man demanded, sitting back in the chair, one booted foot resting on the opposite knee. “We went through your supplies, and they’re, well, like an insane person packed them. Fabric. Yards and yards of fabric.”
“Warm fabric,” Eden pointed out. “We’ve been sleeping on it.”
He grunted. “Not much food, at least not for two women, unless someone else in your group is carrying it for you. A couple of weapons but not much ammo. And you say you’re trying to get to Sacramento, and that someone is coming after you? Someone you stole from? Surely not people from the fabric store,” he said derisively.
“No, sir,” she replied stiffly. “My sister is in Sacramento, waiting for me to come. We were on our way when we encountered an army base that was no longer an army base.”
The man narrowed his eyes and he leaned forward, forearms on the table, fingers unfolding to point at her. “Are you telling me Commander Wayne is the man coming after you?”
She swallowed hard. What had she done here? She’d tried to be vague, but were the men friends? “Yes, sir.”
He choked out a laugh. “What is it exactly that the two of you stole from him?”
“His son.”
***
Aaron’s arms shook with the effort of forking hay into the hayloft. Damn, his strength had suffered by going without food for the past few days. He lost energy so much easier, and grew tired so much faster. But he’d eaten three meals a day for a couple of days. He’d kept his portions small, not wanting to be too dependent on regular meals, because God knew how long it would be before he got home.
Because first, he needed to go find Eden. He wanted to leave in the morning, which was why he’d worked his ass off today to get everything done that Bill had asked him to do.
He needed to speak to Annie. He wanted to leave her here while he went for Eden. She was still wary around Nancy and Bill and the half-dozen other people who lived here, some relatives, some friends, but he couldn’t move quickly or quietly with her and the baby in tow. And really, he owed her nothing. He’d gotten her away from Wayne. She was safe and fed and Nancy clearly loved the baby. She’d be safe and welcome here.
Which meant he was going to have to approach someone. That had not paid off for them lately. He had to hope someone would have mercy on a new mother.
He lowered himself to the tree on the other side of Annie and shifted the baby into the cradle of his arms. The infant—Annie hadn’t named him yet—pursed his lips and suckled.
“Sorry, dude,” Aaron murmured, and pulled the baby closer to keep him warm.
He had to keep the two of them alive, because he had let Eden walk away. God, he couldn’t wrap his head around her being out there with just a handgun and her wits. He went over and over in his head—how could he have stopped her? She was determined to get to her sister. At least she knew her sister was alive but what would she encounter on those seventy miles?
The baby fell asleep, and the night’s silence was unnerving. The baby’s cries had made him nervous, thinking they might draw an animal, or some other unwelcome guests investigating, and he wouldn’t be able to hear them approach. Now, though, he heard nothing, and the absence of sound made him itch. He dared not move without reason and wake the baby. Little guy needed to get as much rest as he could.
The kid needed a name. The fact that Annie hadn’t given him one bothered the hell out of him. Her reasoning seemed to be that she didn’t want to name him in case she lost him. Or because she didn’t want to be attached to him. He got that the baby wasn’t conceived under the best circumstances, but hell, not the kid’s fault. He was fully dependent on them, and Aaron was determined not to fail him.
***
Aaron woke when the baby was lifted from his arms, and he blinked up at Annie in the watery morning light. “Did I fall asleep?” he croaked.
“Snoring and everything. It was kinda sweet that little guy didn’t seem to mind.”
Not sweet, Aaron thought, climbing to his feet, hard to do with arms stiff from holding a baby all night.The little guy was too weak to protest. Even now, as he woke up, he only made soft mewling sounds. Annie mattter-of-factly lifted her sweatshirt and offered a breast. The baby suckled for only a few minutes before he broke the connection with a weak cry.
“Get your things. Today, we’re finding food.”
Houses were few and far between in this part of California, but Aaron figured they were more likely to be occupied than homes in the cities. So no matter that it cost him to walk up long, winding driveways, he checked every one, returning time and again to Annie on the road with a shake of his head.
Where the hell was everyone?
The sun was beginning to set behind the mountains and every muscle in his hungry body protested when he came across a driveway with a heavy iron gate. This one wasn’t mechanized, though. It was padlocked to the fence, and rolled back on wheels. The lock wasn’t rusty with disuse, either.
Hope welled in his weary chest. “Wait here.” He climbed over with less athleticism than he usually displayed, his muscles watery from hunger.
Annie glanced over her shoulder at the darkening road. “No thank you.” She passed him the baby and climbed over after him, stumbling and falling to the dirt driveway, then standing and brushing herself off.
“Let’s go,” she said.
As they crested the hill, they saw animals—cattle, horses, goats, dogs. People lived here, or the animals would have scattered. The fences were in good repair, and the house, well, it was a fairy tale house, complete with a white picket fence and smoke coming out of the chimney.
But he couldn’t let his excitement overwhelm his good sense. He knew how he’d welcome strangers at dusk, and it wouldn’t be with open arms. His leverage was wriggling in his arms.
He handed the baby to Annie so his hand free to grab the pistol at his hip. He hoped the occupants didn’t see that as a threat, but they had to understand where he was coming from.
The porch light came on, startling him into stopping, and he realized that the hum he’d been hearing was from a generator. He lifted his hands away from his hips and stepped slightly away from Annie when an older gentleman walked out on the porch, a shotgun leveled at his chest.
“I’m willing to work for some food,” he called across the distance. “I’ve got a new mother and infant here who need food. I don’t have anything to trade, but I’ll do any job you need me to do.”
“You armed?”
“Yes, sir, we both are. Dare not be, out there.”
“Leave your weapons where you stand.”
He sure as hell didn’t want to do that. Look what had happened the last time he’d been unarmed. But he was desperate, so he placed his guns and knives on the gravel drive, then took the baby as Annie did the same, looking into his eyes as she did so. He wanted to reassure her, but he couldn’t be sure. He only knew they had no choice.
“The lady and the baby can come up,” the man said. “And you move away from those guns.”
Aaron moved two body lengths into the grass, away from the weapons, which seemed to satisfy the old man. Annie walked slowly up the path, the baby awkward in her arms.
A woman burst out of the house then, past the old man to Annie and the baby. She peeled back the blanket to look at the infant’s face, then wrapped an arm around Annie, who stiffened, and guided her into the house.
Aaron relaxed his stance to show he was willing to wait, that the safety and health of Annie and the baby were of utmost importance.
“You military?” the man asked, gun still aimed as Annie and the woman disappeared into the house.
“Yes, sir, Navy. Captain Aaron Jennings.”
“The hell you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?”
“Long story, sir.”
The man relaxed his hold on the gun, aiming at Aaron’s feet instead, and inclined his head toward the house as if listening to what was going on.
“When was the last time you ate? You look like death.”
“Day before yesterday, sir.”
The man shouldered the gun. “Stow it with the ‘sir.’ I was a staff sergeant, Captain. I’m Bill Gunther. Is the young lady your wife?”
“No, sir. Like I said, long story.”
“Come on in,” the man said, his tone wary.
Aaron didn’t blame him. He stepped into the warm house and saw Annie sitting at the dining room table beside the older woman, who held the baby. Two younger women carried in plates of food from the kitchen. Aaron must have made a sound because the older woman looked up and her gaze narrowed.
“What are you thinking, taking this woman all over the place when she just had a baby? And with no food! You should be flogged.”
“It’s not his fault,” Annie said, her voice a little shaky as she focused on the vegetables, homemade cheese and cornbread. “I wanted to go. I needed to go. I thought it was our best chance.”
The woman placed her hand on the baby’s chest. “It probably wasn’t. Now don’t gorge yourself, you’ll just end up getting sick, and that won’t help. We don’t have a lot in the way of protein right now, but the dairy will help. And the avocados.”
“We thank you,” Aaron croaked, embarrassed when his own stomach growled.
The woman’s lips thinned. “Come. Sit. Eat something. But not much. You don’t want to throw it all up.”
As Aaron struggled not to make a pig of himself with the fresh food—God, the green beans were heaven—the woman, Nancy Gunther, unwrapped the baby.
“What’s his name?”
“I haven’t named him yet,” Annie said after swallowing a sip of milk.
“Not something you thought about?” Nancy checked his umbilical cord.
“No.”
“Do you mind if I give him a bath? Then he might be ready for his dinner.”
“That would be good,” Annie said wearily. “That would be real good. He hasn’t had a bath since he was born.”
Aaron and Annie remained at the table with Bill as Nancy carried the baby into the kitchen. Aaron couldn’t help himself from picking up the crumbs of cornbread from the tablecloth. A wail from the infant had Annie tensing, and rising, looking in the swinging door. Her shoulders relaxed, and she slumped back to the table.
“Do you mind if we sleep in your barn?” Aaron asked. “It’s been awhile since we’ve been able to sleep without one of us keeping watch.”
“The baby and Annie can sleep in the basement,” Bill said. “It’s too cold in the barn for the baby.”
“How many people live here?” Aaron asked, his hand shaking as he took a bite of cheese from the plate.
“I think I’d rather hear your story first.” Bill sat at the head of the table, gun within easy reach.
Aaron didn’t know if he had the energy to go through the whole thing, but he started at the beginning, his struggle to get home, to get to his wife, to get to his parents. A glass of water, cool clear well water, appeared in front of him, delivered by one of the young women, and he drank gratefully before he told them about Eden and her mother and Eden’s need to get to her sister.
Nancy rejoined them with the baby swaddled tightly, and handed the sweet-smelling infant back to his mother. She took a seat beside her husband, who reached over and took her hand on top of the table. Bill nodded, and Aaron continued with his story.
He watched Annie as he talked about Commander Wayne. His instinct was to skim over the details, but he figured he owed the Gunthers the honesty of telling them why he’d dragged a new mother halfway across the state, as well as letting them know what might be coming after them. The Gunthers exchanged a look. Aaron paused, waiting for them to decide they didn’t want the trouble and kick them out. They’d be wise to do so, though that wouldn’t necessarily save any of them.
“So you see why Annie wanted to get herself and the baby as far away from him as possible.”
Bill looked at Annie. “Is this commander the baby’s father?”
She nodded miserably.
“So he’s going to come after the baby.”
“Most likely. We don’t want to stay long, maybe a day, for her to gain her strength.”
“It’s going to take longer than that,” Nancy said.
“He won’t necessarily find us. We told him we were heading to Texas, so I’m hoping he’ll go south instead of west,” Aaron continued.
“We’re in good shape, I think,” Bill said consideringly, watching Annie as she fed the baby. “You can sleep in the barn.”
Aaron glanced at Annie, who nodded. He knew he should see to her safety and comfort but he was weary to the bone. “I’m going to turn in, then, if it’s all right. I’ll be up early to do whatever it is you need me to do.”
But even as he stretched out on the blanket in the hay, as exhausted as he was, as secure as he felt, he couldn’t sleep. Because he was safe, but he didn’t know if Eden was.
***
Eden kept her shoulders straight as she and Christine were led into one of the storage facilities. She was afraid the men escorting her heard her stomach grumble as they passed stacks of Oreos. She hadn’t had chocolate in so long, and her mouth started to water at the sight of the blue packages. Ridiculous, since she had no idea what was going to happen to the two of them in the next few minutes, that she missed sweets the most.
They were marched down aisles of the most incongruous collections—bug spray, marshmallows, cough medicine, liquor. Necessities and luxuries, all taken from the rigs outside.
They turned a corner toward an open bay door. A tall lanky man turned toward them, a clipboard in his hand. He was mid-thirties, his hair past his collar, his jaw shadowed with stubble, his eyes bright and quick. His gaze lingered on Eden for a moment before he looked back at the clipboard.
“These two came up on the camp from the north,” one of the men announced.
The tall man continued to study the information in his hand. “Were they alone?”
“I’ve got men exploring the area now, but it appears they were.”
The man lowered the clipboard and leaned over the table separating them into Christine’s face. “Were you alone?”
The young woman’s spine snapped straight. “We were.”
The man straightened and picked up the clipboard again. “Kill them.”
Eden’s knees wobbled at the casual tone, and she yanked away from the man holding her arm. “We won’t say anything,” she said quickly. “We wouldn’t even know how to find this place again. All I want is to get a ride to Sacramento to my sister.”
He glared at her. “All I want is a secure location that no one is going to blab about.” He glanced at the man beside her. “Kill them.”
“They might bring a good price,” one of the other men said, assessing. “They’re young and not bad to look at.”
The man in charge rolled his eyes. “They’re trouble. Bruised, battered. Fighters. Any of our clients would not thank us. Kill them.”
“There is someone who would pay for us,” Eden said quickly. “Someone who wants us, who is looking for us, and will likely offer a reward.”
“Eden!” Christine said sharply, betrayed.
Eden knew what she was risking, but she would rather end up back with Commander Wayne than be dead.
The man considered for a moment. “Why does he want you?”
“We escaped from him, stole from him. We know he’s looking for us.”
“Put them in number twelve,” he said with a wave of the clipboard.
She really really hoped number twelve wasn’t a euphemism for a grave or something. They were marched down a different aisle and the tension in her chest tightened when she saw the numbers painted on the doors of the storage units. Sixteen, fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve. What—or who—was in those other units?
One of the men stepped forward to roll up the door and ushered the two women into the empty space, lit only by a dim security light. Of course a place like this would have a generator and the gas to run it. The room was cold, though, and she turned to their captors.
“Can we have a blanket or something?” she asked, but her only answer was the rolling of the door as it closed, leaving them in the dark.
Christine turned on her. “What the hell is wrong with you, telling that man about Wayne being after us?”
“He wants a profit, otherwise he wouldn’t be doing this.” She waved her hand around. “If he can sell us rather than kill us, let’s do that.”
“What makes you think Wayne won’t kill us? Or worse?”
Eden remembered her terror when she thought Wayne was coming to rape her, and Christine had lived it. But, “As long as we’re alive, we have hope.”
Christine slumped against the wall, arms wrapped around herself. “Do you think they’ll feed us, at least?”
***
The two women huddled together, shivering, when the door rolled open again. The man who’d ordered them killed stood there, flanked by two armed men.
“Come,” he said simply, and turned away.
Eden scrambled stiffly to her feet, cold to the bone in the metal and concrete unit, and helped Christine up, dragging her from the unit before he could change his mind.
“Can we get something to eat?” she asked the man as they followed him down the sidewalk of the industrial park. “Maybe some warmer clothes?”
“This isn’t a charity,” he said, opening a glass door and into what used to be a Mexican restaurant, based on the remnants of paint on the door.
And she had nothing to barter, nothing he didn’t already have a hundredfold. At least the restaurant was warm, though she still shivered uncontrollably.
The man sat at a laminate table and signaled to the men, who stepped forward and gave each woman a scratchy Army blanket. Eden was never so grateful in her life, and she clutched it around herself with stiff fingers.
“Who are you?” the man demanded, sitting back in the chair, one booted foot resting on the opposite knee. “We went through your supplies, and they’re, well, like an insane person packed them. Fabric. Yards and yards of fabric.”
“Warm fabric,” Eden pointed out. “We’ve been sleeping on it.”
He grunted. “Not much food, at least not for two women, unless someone else in your group is carrying it for you. A couple of weapons but not much ammo. And you say you’re trying to get to Sacramento, and that someone is coming after you? Someone you stole from? Surely not people from the fabric store,” he said derisively.
“No, sir,” she replied stiffly. “My sister is in Sacramento, waiting for me to come. We were on our way when we encountered an army base that was no longer an army base.”
The man narrowed his eyes and he leaned forward, forearms on the table, fingers unfolding to point at her. “Are you telling me Commander Wayne is the man coming after you?”
She swallowed hard. What had she done here? She’d tried to be vague, but were the men friends? “Yes, sir.”
He choked out a laugh. “What is it exactly that the two of you stole from him?”
“His son.”
***
Aaron’s arms shook with the effort of forking hay into the hayloft. Damn, his strength had suffered by going without food for the past few days. He lost energy so much easier, and grew tired so much faster. But he’d eaten three meals a day for a couple of days. He’d kept his portions small, not wanting to be too dependent on regular meals, because God knew how long it would be before he got home.
Because first, he needed to go find Eden. He wanted to leave in the morning, which was why he’d worked his ass off today to get everything done that Bill had asked him to do.
He needed to speak to Annie. He wanted to leave her here while he went for Eden. She was still wary around Nancy and Bill and the half-dozen other people who lived here, some relatives, some friends, but he couldn’t move quickly or quietly with her and the baby in tow. And really, he owed her nothing. He’d gotten her away from Wayne. She was safe and fed and Nancy clearly loved the baby. She’d be safe and welcome here.
