“That’s why I want you and Allie to come live up at the house with us in Durango Hills. I’m not sure what we’ll find when we get home, but it won’t be safe for you guys in town.” He paused for a second. “And I want you there.”

  “I… I don’t know what to say. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t already thought about it,” Sandy stuttered, tears welling in her eyes as she smiled.

  “I won’t take no for an answer.” Ben gave her a quick peck on the cheek and led her back toward the others by the hand before she could answer, only letting go when they were exposed by the light of the flames.

  There’d be time to let the kids in on all this later. He’d already said more than he intended to tonight, although in his heart of hearts, he knew the offer made to Sandy and her daughter was long overdue. He should have broached the subject long ago and let them know they had a place at the house.

  Back at camp, the kids were all getting settled into their tents. Gunner chose to bunk with Allie, Sam with Brad, and Bajer, to no one’s surprise, was attached to Emma like glue. They said their goodnights, and Ben stirred the fire one final time before retiring to his tent. He’d let the campfire die out overnight and restart it in the morning if the trap produced game. For Brad’s sake, he hoped it did, but he had to admit, he wouldn’t be completely disappointed if they didn’t catch anything and got an early start on the last leg of the trip instead.

  It would be nice to fill their bellies with some protein for the big push home, though. Tomorrow would be a long day, and it would likely be a hard one as well if the last few weeks were any indication of what they should expect. There were still a couple hundred miles between them and their final destination. The trip should take somewhere between five and six hours, if he had to guess. But those old metrics meant nothing, and he knew it. Anything could happen, and the big open interstates were well behind them now. From here on out, it would be twisty, two-lane mountain roads and sharp switchbacks over steep passes.

  Ben left his hiking boots by the tent flap with his pistol grip-up inside one of them, ready to be used. He laid his AR-15 alongside his bag and put his head on the rolled-up towel he’d been using for a pillow. What a luxury it would be to have a real pillow again and sleep in his own bed. Tomorrow night, with a little luck and continued perseverance, he would do just that.

  38

  Ben was physically exhausted, but no matter how hard he tried to sleep, he couldn’t stop thinking about the day ahead. The distant howl of a coyote silenced an owl temporarily and warranted a grumble from Gunner inside Allie’s tent. Ben would have preferred the dog to sleep outside the bivy, but it was actually on the cool side tonight, a welcome change, and he imagined both Gunner and Allie were enjoying the added comfort of each other’s body heat.

  Ben checked his watch, disappointed that he hadn’t accomplished more than dozing off for a couple of minutes here and there. The owl picked up right where it left off, and Ben considered getting up and making a pot of coffee if he couldn’t get to sleep in the next few minutes. It was a beautifully clear night, and if he couldn’t stop his brain from working overtime, he might as well enjoy the scenery and agreeable temperatures, along with a little solitude, which he didn’t get much of these days.

  As he lay there contemplating how much longer he should stay put, Ben noticed a sudden silence outside. The abrupt change was unnatural: no owls hooting, no coyotes calling back and forth to one another, not even a cricket. That wasn’t the case a minute ago. If it had been this quiet all night, he’d be sleeping by now. Something was wrong.

  Ben unzipped the tent fly slowly and quietly while returning the 9mm to its place on his belt. He pulled his boots on and laced them, listening for any sounds that would seem out of place, but all he could hear was Bajer snoring. He was often jealous of the little dog’s ability to sleep deeply at will, but not tonight. Now he really wished Gunner had opted to sleep outside Allie’s tent. The dog had a sixth sense when it came to sniffing out trouble but would likely ignore any premonitions while nestled up alongside his favorite person.

  Ben slipped outside into the cool night air, making sure to keep his profile below the outline of his tent, and took a deep breath, listening again for anything peculiar. But it wasn’t a sound that got his attention. There was movement.

  His pulse quickened as the shadowy figure darted between the vehicles, then to a group of trees outside the camp perimeter. Whoever was out there was armed with a rifle; Ben could see the silhouette of a gun in the moonlight. And there was a good chance the intruder wasn’t alone, just a scout sent ahead to size up the threat and potential score.

  Ben reached back inside his tent, retrieving his AR-15 and the Ka-Bar knife he’d used to set up the snare trap with Brad earlier, thankful now that he hadn’t returned the oversized blade to the truck. They were too close to home to go down like this. The instant rush of adrenaline coursing through his body warmed his limbs as the familiar sensation began to take control. It was a feeling he’d learned to embrace long ago, and although he’d successfully repressed this certain brand of consciousness for years, the harsh conditions of a post-EMP world had awoken a part of him he did his best to conceal from friends and family. An inner animal that had an appetite for setting things right and exacting vengeance for wrongs against those he cared about.

  Ben heard the bare branches of a leafless cottonwood clank together in the shadows twenty yards past the vehicles. Then two short bursts flickered from a handheld flashlight aimed toward the tree line. It was a signal from the scout for his accomplices to move in and take the camp. There was no mistaking their intention. As far as Ben was concerned, these people aimed to kill them and take their things.

  In that moment, he gave in to the anger and hatred brewing deep in his gut. The overwhelming desire to protect his family from harm superseded all other thoughts, forcing him to relinquish any promises he’d made to himself in days past to suppress the monster within. He knew the course of action required tonight if they were going to make Durango tomorrow. Or ever, for that matter.

  Ben drew the Ka-Bar across his finger, feeling the sharpened edge as the cool steel glistened in the moon. He wouldn’t wake the others if he could help it. There was no time or way to let the others know what was happening without alerting the would-be thieves. More importantly, though, there was no need. Their new friends were amateurs; that much was obvious. He’d been powerless to shield the others from the brutal realities of post-apocalyptic life. But this was a chance to do things his way, in silence and in darkness, where he thrived among the shadows.

  It was like he’d been living underwater for most of his life and now he was back on the surface, where he could breathe freely and allow his instincts to guide his actions. There was no need to think, no need to practice restraint, only one clear path to resolution: killing every single one of these deviants that chose to darken his family’s path tonight.

  Ben snuck away from his tent and found a clear path through the soft sand that would allow him to flank the stand of drought-stricken cottonwoods. The scout had already fulfilled his purpose, calling in his cohort for the kill. It was Ben’s turn now.

  As Ben approached from behind, the blurry figure bouncing between the vehicles and inspecting their cargo earlier came into focus. Ben closed the distance swiftly and silently, with the Ka-Bar firmly in his grip. Grabbing the man by means of a hand over his mouth, Ben turned the scout’s head to the side, pinning it against his shoulder, and ran the seven-inch blade across his neck, making sure to cut deeply. There was no sound other than a muffled scream followed by gurgles of escaping air from the freshly opened gash in the man’s neck.

  Ben held tight for a minute, forgetting about the expiring man in his arms as he focused on the open expanse of terrain between camp and the road. There were others out there somewhere, headed his way. He didn’t know how many there were, and tonight, he didn’t care. If things went south, he was confident in the knowledge that he was carrying plenty of firepower to deal with whatever threat materialized. And although a big firefight was what he was trying to avoid, the minute he opened fire, Joel and the others would have his six.

  Maybe he was being foolish. Maybe he’d had enough of this crap and just wanted to get home. But there was a fire burning in his chest, and he could no longer control it. As he let the scout’s corpse drop to the ground, he could not deny the feeling of satisfaction that warmed his body.

  This was about more than just tonight. This was for all the subhuman garbage that had attempted to derail their plans to get home. Tonight was about payback, lost time, and lost innocence, and although he knew it was insignificant in the grand scheme of things, this was about taking a stand and declaring their right to live life on their terms, not the terms imposed on them by circumstance.

  Ben wiped the knife clean on the man’s shirt and moved on toward the bluff in the near distance. The terrain rose steadily all the way to the road from the river, so he had the advantage in the dim light if he kept to the lower spots and shadows. If he stayed low, he’d see the attackers’ silhouettes advancing downhill. Sure enough, within a few minutes of killing the scout, he found his next target. Not knowing how many assailants he was up against was concerning, but he planned on making up for that through sheer tenacity and cunning.

  The dark figure stopped behind a cactus and waved to some unseen accomplice behind him, oblivious that he was dooming them both with every movement. The elevation difference gave Ben the upper hand, and he was able to maneuver around the man with ease. In closing the last few feet to his target, Ben stepped on something that snapped, and the man looked in his direction, but it was too late. Ben’s knife was already raised and came down into his chest with a resounding thud. The man tried to shout but struggled to find his voice as he gasped for air. Ben planted a foot behind the intruder’s right leg and took him to the ground, driving the Ka-Bar deeper still until he felt the bite of earth on the other side.

  They looked at each other for a fleeting moment before the man’s eyes went dim. Ben lay there on top of him for as long as it took to make sure this man—who would have killed his children for whatever gear could be found in the trucks—was dead. He drew his knife from the dead man’s sternum, wiping it clean for the second time tonight.

  On to the others. He had a family to get home, and for the first time in weeks, he was in a position to do something real about it, or so it felt. They were running low on quality food, optimism, and stamina. Everyone put on a happy face or did their best to pretend like everything was fine, but even a blind man could have seen through the thinly veiled shamble that their lives had become.

  They had each other, and that was something Ben made sure not to ever take for granted, but too much more of this kind of living could only lead to one outcome, and that wasn’t something he was willing to tolerate any longer. It was time to end this nightmare that had become their lives. Something had snapped, and he felt different. He wasn’t sure what he had left to give, but so help him God, he’d leave it all here tonight if that was what it took to get the others home.

  Ben checked his watch. Some habits were hard to kick, especially when the stage was set. He wasn’t on the clock tonight, and there was no scheduled exfil. But that wouldn’t affect the mission. Only ten minutes had passed since he left the confines of his stuffy tent, and he’d already taken out two of these attackers. At this rate, depending on how many rats were in the hen house, he’d still have time to squeeze in a little shut-eye.

  Of course, he knew that wasn’t possible after this. There’d be no chance of sleep tonight. He glanced down at his blood-stained hands and shook his head in disgust as if he had a choice. His mind raced with scenarios, but one thing was crystal clear. He wouldn’t come down from the high he felt until this place was half an hour away. And when he’d cleaned up here, they’d leave this god-awful dust bowl of a camp that he’d tried to sell as a decent spot. Tonight.

  And against his better judgment, they wouldn’t stop again, except for fuel, until Ben was looking at the cedar shake siding on the dormer over Joel’s bedroom—the siding he’d been meaning to replace for way too long. Oh, how he longed to put the Glock away and strap on a tool belt instead. But if that was ever going to happen, he needed to finish this.

  39

  Ben was at peace with his surroundings and appreciated the coolness of the night air on his skin as he slid the AR-15 around into a more accessible position. If it came to using the weapon, he’d wake the others, but it was inevitable—and a small price to pay for their safety. Besides, they were leaving soon. He hated to be so callous, but his mission was crystal clear. It always had been. And nothing would stand in his way.

  Moving through the scrub brush, Ben closed in on the next intruder, following the sound of footsteps. The man was clumsily stomping his way over the crusty ground and clearly hadn’t anticipated running into anyone yet. Their eyes met, but at ten yards, the Ka-Bar in Ben’s hand was useless.

  Or was it?

  The man fumbled with his sawed-off double-barrel shotgun, but Ben was already halfway through his release. The blackened steel knife tumbled through the air with a whooshing sound until it came to rest, buried up to its hilt in the intruder’s chest. Reeling backward, the man clung to his weapon, then dropped to his knees, where he summoned the strength to perform one final act of desperation.

  Boom.

  The bark of the shotgun faded quickly in the clear night air. Fortunately for Ben, the man hadn’t retained the presence of mind to aim properly, and the slug burrowed itself into the trunk of a nearby tree.

  “Hey!” Ben heard the shout and spun around to see a man half a football field away, running straight toward him with a rifle. Ben couldn’t believe it was going to be this easy. He casually spun his AR-15 up into the high-ready position and took aim at the moving target.

  Crack, crack, crack.

  Ben lowered his weapon and saw the man go down through the dissipating smoke left by his shots. He listened to the groans of agony, followed by calls for the man’s friends to come to his aid. But he was alone now unless there were more of them. Ben crouched low to the ground and listened for any others, but all he could hear was the man crying. Then he began choking and went silent altogether. Ben felt no remorse for the four intruders he’d dispatched, and in that moment, his biggest disappointment was that Brad wouldn’t get to check the snare trap in the morning.

  Satisfied that all threats had been neutralized, Ben retrieved the Ka-Bar from the shotgun-wielding thief’s chest and headed back to camp. He wiped the blade clean again, only this time he used the man’s shirt to clean the blood from his hands as well, inspecting them in the moonlight when he was finished. The others would be awake when he returned, and he didn’t want the first thing they saw today to be him covered in blood.

  Ben jogged back to camp, announcing his arrival well before cresting the small hill and exposing himself. Gunner was first over the dune and greeted Ben with his usual exuberance. At least he knew Allie was up. But they were all up. Maybe not fully awake, but they were up.

  “What’s going on? We heard gunshots. Are you okay? Is that blood on your shirt?” Sandy was still half asleep, but that didn’t stop her from rattling off a list of questions and concerns.

  “I’m fine. Just a few guys trying to get the upper hand on us and take our gear,” Ben explained.

  Joel had his carbine ready and walked past his dad several feet toward the road, ready for a fight.

  “It’s over,” Ben confirmed.

  “You should have gotten me up. I could have helped.” Joel continued scouring the area beyond camp as if he was hoping to find someone his dad might have missed.

  “There was no time. But… since you’re all up, what would you say to packing up and getting an early start?”

  “What time is it?” Emma yawned as she climbed over Bajer to get out of her tent.

  Ben glanced at his watch even though he knew exactly what time it was. “Three-thirty.”

  Emma sighed. “I don’t care. Whatever. I guess we should leave anyways because of the noise, right?”

  Ben smiled at her, then glanced around at the others. “Right.”

  No one spoke as they packed up camp. A silent bustle of activity found them loaded up and ready to hit the road in a matter of minutes. Ben studied the map under the light of his headlamp just to make sure he wasn’t overlooking something, but he knew the roads by heart. It was pretty much a straight shot from here down US-50 until they hit La Junta, Colorado, and picked up US-160, the last road they’d need to get them home.

  “All right, I think that’s it.” Allie threw her backpack into the back of the Scrambler and then looked around as if she’d forgotten something. “Where’s Brad?”

  “Emma and Bajer are gone, too.” Sandy emerged from the far side of the Blazer. “I thought maybe they were in the truck already, but it’s empty.”

  Ben had lost track of what everyone was doing in the early-morning darkness. But he had a feeling he knew exactly where they were.

  “Oh, Brad.” He shook his head.

  “What?” Sandy’s brow wrinkled.

  “He’s checking the trap we set.”

  “I told him to let it go,” Joel added.

  “All right, get the trucks started. We’ll be right back. Joel, with me.” Ben didn’t waste any time and headed toward the riverbed. He and Joel hadn’t made it more than twenty yards when he heard Emma scream. Chills ran up Ben’s spine as he readied his weapon and launched into a sprint. Joel was on his heels, and the two of them reached the trap in a matter of seconds, only to find Emma, Brad, and Bajer surrounded by a pack of coyotes. A bloodied rabbit dangled from the snare, half of it missing and the rest torn to shreds by the ravenous pack of canines.