Caleb raised his gun. The general surged out of cover, his sidearm coming up. Lana was in the open, an easy target. Caleb’s leg buckled, and he dropped sideways, firing.

  One shot lodged in Thomas’s hip. He spun, stumbled toward the wall, and fell as he tried to catch himself. He hit the ground, weapon still clutched in his grip, and roared as he aimed it at Caleb.

  But the shot that cracked the air jerked General Thomas’s head back. His fingers twitched once, then went still. Lana stood a few feet away, rifle from a fallen soldier aimed down at him.

  As Caleb watched, she lowered it, swallowed so hard her head bobbed, and closed her eyes. Her shoulders rose and fell.

  She stood for a long moment before she finally forced her feet to move and came toward Caleb.

  “Okie-dokie.” Ray stepped fully into the security room. “Guess that fixes that.”

  “It’s done,” Lana said, her voice flat. “We need to get back to Mom.”

  “Well,” Ray said slowly, training his rifle casually on Lana. “Not quite done. Thing is, we did come here to take this base, and way I see it, it’s ours now, so I’m thinking you two are just about—“

  Between the sudden silence, the fury that rose in Caleb’s chest, and the fear at seeing Lana in the man’s sights, the gunshot that exploded Ray’s face from behind made Caleb bark with surprise.

  Ray hung in the air, life draining his body for a long moment before he dropped lifeless to the floor. Jake stood behind him, wide-eyed as he lowered his weapon.

  Caleb blinked at him, wary, his finger itching at the trigger of his gun. Lana stood perfectly still, her rifle half-raised.

  Jake sagged against the doorway. “Bastard,” he rasped, and finally looked up from his dead friend. “I never did trust him, but I didn’t know. I promise, I didn’t.”

  “It’s okay.” Caleb reached for Lana. She helped him to his feet, and he limped to the door, stepping over Ray as he did. He gave Jake a long look. “Thank you.”

  Jake’s jaw quivered. He dipped his head in a jerky motion as he stared at Ray. “He’s got a girl back home.” His voice rang hollow. “Two boys, too.”

  Caleb looked down at the fallen man. It was hard to imagine him as a husband or a father. “Will they miss him?”

  Jake’s brow knit and his lips turned hard. “I guess they probably won’t.”

  “Then make sure you’re a better man than he is. Do we need to worry about your other friends?”

  “No,” Jake assured him. “No, I’ll… I’ll get ‘em sorted.”

  Caleb nodded. “When we’re gone, you can keep the base if you want it. We’re not staying.”

  “Come on,” Lana murmured. She slipped under Caleb’s arm, and together they left Jake standing in the room alone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  LERLAINE

  Bartow Hill Road, Lansing, NC

  Saturday, June 19th, 11:50 am EST

  Lerlaine cringed as another boom of thunder shook the trailer. The wind howled constantly. The rain came down in sheets, drips of it leaking through a patch in the roof that Ray had probably done himself. Pressed against her chest, Hunter shrieked, his infant lungs pumping as he cried so hard, he’d be hoarse before long—a stuttering wail that rose and fell the same way the rain seemed to as the wind whipped it against the side of the trailer.

  Maddox was just as bad, clinging to her leg, his face red and wet. She tried to comfort him. She tried to comfort them both. But there was no soothing them when it seemed like the whole world was shaking. When the sky opened and delivered God’s fury.

  Two days. Ray had been gone for two days. Of course, he hadn’t said how long it would take. But she’d gotten a feeling in her gut that he wasn’t coming back. That no one was. It had been a suicide run for all of them, some kind of last-ditch effort to do something when it seemed like there was nothing to do. She’d had plenty of time to think about it, process it. Realize what kind of blind desperation was really driving Ray, and probably the others.

  That had always been Ray. Desperation, alcohol, and the delusion that you could hit, scream, or cuss at any problem and it would just go away. That everything would fall in line. People, appliances, problems—to Ray, they were all the same.

  She’d fantasized about making it work here, without him. But the generator was almost out of fuel. And this storm…

  The rain and the wind and the lighting… If the wind kept up, the walls would crumble all around them. A bigger storm would pick up the trailer and drag it piecemeal down the hill. An earthquake would flatten it.

  They couldn’t stay. She knew that. Except, this time, she didn’t have even a miserable little trailer to take her children to.

  So, what was it, then? Stay there, get buried in debris and burned by the rain, only to freeze to death out in the open? Or take the only chance she had left?

  Make a real leap of faith.

  The cries of her sons seemed like they’d split her eardrums. She heard them over the loudest explosions of thunder. Nothing drowned them out, nothing gave her any relief. She sat, stunned by it all and paralyzed by a decision that seemed… Well, it didn’t seem like a decision at all.

  It felt like choosing how they died. How she watched her children die, because they were young, and fragile, and she wasn’t in her prime, maybe, not after everything, but she would probably still live just long enough.

  After a while, the rain let up. Not entirely, and the wind still buffeted the sides of the trailer and rattled the windows. The thunder and lightning still tore out of the sky. But the solid sheets of rain were the most dangerous part of it. If she had a window, it might be very narrow. She had to decide.

  “Alright, baby.” She pried Maddox from her leg. “Listen—get your coat, okay? And your boots and… I’ll get you some gloves. Wait right here, alright?”

  Maddox didn’t seem to comprehend, but if she had to, she’d just bundle him up herself. She went to the bedroom and grabbed the keys to Ray’s car from the top of the dresser and tucked them into the front left pocket of her jeans.

  Calm settled on her. Maybe just doing something actually did make a person feel somehow more in control, even when they weren’t.

  She moved to the kitchen and fished a trash bag from under the sink. She shook it out with one hand, shushing Hunter as she did. “Sh, sh, sh, honey bear,” she crooned with forced sweetness, “it’s okay. It’s okay, baby. Mama’s here. Mama’s gonna keep you safe and sound. Sh, sh, sh.”

  There was no point in discriminating about food, so she pulled everything from the cabinets that she could find. Boxed stuff she’d have to figure out a way to rehydrate and cook. A meager assortment of canned food. The can opener. Venison steaks and sausage in the freezer. Jerky in the fridge.

  It felt laughably inadequate, and poorly planned. Like she was six years old again, stuffing a pillowcase with toys and candy in preparation to run away. The thought caught her, grabbed her attention, and held it.

  For a few seconds, she remembered the feel of the stretchy, printed cotton in her fingers, the weight of her improvised sack, and the way the toys poked at her belly when she held it tight. She stood on the porch of the shack she lived in with her mother back then, thinking that she had everything she needed to make a life for herself somewhere far away.

  She was so very, very wrong.

  Thunder boomed and brought her out of it. She stared down at the bag. This was the same, wasn’t it?

  But it didn’t change anything. She knelt, and with one hand, collected the ties of the bag and drew them together with a jerk, then hefted the heavy load over her shoulder and went to the front door to put it down.

  It took a few more minutes to get Hunter swaddled enough to keep the stinging rain off him, and another few to wrangle Maddox into his coat and boots and a pair of gloves that were too big for him while he continued to cry himself raspy and snotty and pathetic.

  When She was satisfied that they were covered, she covered her own head with one of Ray’s wide fishing hats and brought Maddox to the front door. She gathered her oldest son up into her arm to saddle her hip, then knelt to catch the trash bag with her hand.

  Laden like some beast of burden, Lerlaine pawed at the door to get it open, took a breath as if she were diving into deep waters, and rushed out to the covered car.

  It wasn’t easy to uncover it. The trash bag had to be dropped, and was instantly muddy and soaked. She had to set Maddox down to free her hand, and his crying grew louder as the cold and the freezing, stinging rain splashed what little skin was exposed.

  Already, she was failing.

  Lerlaine worked as quickly as she could with only one arm, and in a short time, the old, low-riding car was exposed, its once bright blue and red paint long faded, the body rusted in places from long disuse.

  Ignoring the state of the vehicle, she unlocked the doors and tucked Maddox inside, and put Hunter on his lap. “You hold onto your baby brother,” she told him. “Understand?”

  She hadn’t been able to bring the car seat. But she buckled them in and stuffed the trash bag of supplies into the trunk by the large speakers Ray had installed there. And then, when she didn’t think she could make any of it any safer, she finally tugged open the driver’s door, slipped inside, closed her eyes, and turned the key in the ignition. She prayed Ray had kept the car at least in drivable condition.

  The engine sparked, caught, and growled to life. Lerlaine’s relief came out in a sudden, joyous sob. Just the one, before she pressed her forehead to the steering wheel, smiling through quiet tears to indulge in a moment of unfettered gratitude to God, or the universe, or whoever was responsible for seeing her and her children this far. Maybe—just maybe—someone really was looking out for them.

  She put the car into drive, released the parking brake, and eased it away from the trailer. Not safe yet, she reminded herself, eyeing a gas gauge only half-full, but at least we have a chance.

  If whoever was watching over her and her children kept an eye out just a little while longer, though, maybe a chance was all she needed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  ELIZABETH

  Horse Creek Base, New United States

  Saturday, June 19th, 4:10 pm EST

  The storm lasted the better part of two days. Elizabeth spent them at Caleb’s side. In a perfect world, he’d probably have gotten surgery for his shoulder. As it was, the best they could manage was a sling from medical and to position it so it would heal with a chance of functioning again

  One of the survivors Caleb and Derek saved out on the mountain was a physical therapist before the disaster. She did what she could to get him positioned correctly. Willis—Private Washington—had enough field medic training to get Caleb’s leg wound cleaned and stitched.

  After that, Caleb had gone to sleep and mostly stayed that way.

  When the thunder stopped, and Lana reported that the rain had cleared, Elizabeth expected relief. But the knot of tension encompassing her entire body didn’t ease until Caleb finally stirred and focused on her.

  “There you are.” She leaned over the cot from her chair and stroked his jaw. “You had me worried.”

  “Did I?” Caleb wondered sleepily. “Didn’t mean to.”

  He started to move, but she held him back. “Shoulder needs some time,” she warned him. “And you don’t want to pull your stitches. Lana and the boys cleared the base and checked in with everyone. We’re safe. Well… we’re not in immediate danger, I guess.” She glanced up at the lights. “Got the power back on, at least.”

  Caleb’s pained expression eased but was replaced with worry. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” she admitted. “Not really. But… I’m better now. Seeing you like this…”

  His jaw flexed, and his lips began to move, but she gently thumbed his lips. “I was scared. That’s all.”

  Caleb smiled and reached for her hand. He kissed her thumb, eyes closing briefly before he sighed and moved her hand to his chest to hold it over his heart. “I told you I’d come back for you.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “You kept your promise. And… Lana kept hers. Jake said…”

  When her words trailed off, Caleb frowned, and moved his head just enough to look around the med bay. “Where is she? Did Derek make it?”

  “He’s okay.” Elizabeth gave a quiet snort. “He’s in his quarters. Lana is… probably there, too. He’s in rough shape, kind of like you. She’s taking care of him.”

  “Ah,” Caleb breathed. Maybe he saw the worry in Elizabeth’s eyes, because he shrugged his good shoulder and squeezed her hand. “She could do worse. He’s a good man, I think. Or, he really wants to be, and maybe that’s as important.”

  “Maybe. I just worry about her getting attached. After Jessup.”

  “She’s not the girl we sent off to college anymore.” His eyes shifted toward the door as if he could somehow see his daughter clear across the facility. “We can’t keep her sheltered. We have to let her become whoever she’s growing into.”

  “I know.” Elizabeth looked toward the door herself, trying not to be afraid of how they all had changed. “I guess that goes for us, as well.”

  She sat in the quiet as her husband drifted off and focused on the positives. They were alive. Her family was alive and that mattered more than anything.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  LANA

  Horse Creek Base, New United States

  Saturday, June 19th, 4:10 pm EST

  Lana studied her face in the mirror. All the same features were still there, marred by fading bruises and scabbed over scrapes. Same nose as her mother’s, same jaw as her father’s. Same eyebrows, eyes, cheeks. Her forehead that she’d always thought was a little too big, but wore a ball cap well. Same face she’d grown up with and into.

  But as she watched her reflection, she had a strange sort of distance from it. As if the mirror was a window and that the person looking at her was someone else. Someone uncertain, and suspicious—as if they didn’t think she belonged there.

  She closed her eyes and picked up the clippers she’d found in the supply room. She switched the appliance on, letting the vibrations travel through her fingers, into her palm, and up to her wrist. When she opened her eyes again, she stared at herself for a long moment before running the flat blade up over her temple and behind her ear.

  Brown hair fell away in heavy chunks, landing on her shoulders and the floor. She took off another strip, and another, until she’d cleared the left side of her head. When she was done, she turned the clippers off, set them down on the sink’s edge, and stared at herself again.

  The woman in the mirror now was even less familiar but… somehow in a way that felt less threatening. As if she weren’t looking at a stranger so much as a person she might get to know. A kindred spirit, maybe.

  Once she’d cleaned up, she took a cool, brief shower, then dressed and returned to Derek’s room. He was awake, and when he spotted her, his eyebrows rose. “Oh. Wow.”

  Lana smiled and sank down to the edge of his cot.

  He sat up and drew his knees toward his chest to give her room. “It… looks great.”

  She wished that it mattered. “Thanks.”

  He leaned his head as if trying to get a better look at her face. “Everything okay?”

  With a small effort, she made herself look at him. “I almost lost you.”

  Derek gave a soft huff, smiling as he reached out to touch her hand. “But you didn’t.”

  She moved her hand just out of reach.

  “This… isn’t the conversation I thought it was going to be, is it?”

  Lana focused on the ceiling so she didn’t have to see the resignation on his face. “Derek… I like you a lot. I’m glad that you’re getting better, that I didn’t lose you. But I’m not sure I can sort through my feelings with all of this going on.”

  She exhaled long and slow. “I can’t afford to care. I can’t not want to lose someone. Not right now. I almost let my dad go on without me. I was so…”

  Derek gave her time as she struggled to find the words. “The thought of coming back and finding you dead, finding out that you’d died alone, and I hadn’t been there… I can’t have that kind of thing weighing on me.”

  He leaned back, resting against the wall.

  When he didn’t reply, Lana stood from the cot. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” he said finally, quietly.

  She risked a look at him. He had a sad half-smile on his lips. “I’m not gonna wait on you. But that doesn’t mean I’m letting you leave me behind. Just so you know.”

  Lana pursed her lips, resisting a smile, and shrugged. “It’s a free country, still.”

  With that, she left him there to rest and headed down the hall.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CALEB

  Horse Creek Base, New United States

  Saturday, July 3rd, 10:10 am EST

  “I wish you’d stay.” Washington hefted the pack over Caleb’s shoulder.

  He tested the weight of it on his leg. The wound really needed another week or so before he put it through its paces, but the weather was good, and Caleb didn’t want to get stuck when it turned again.

  In the two weeks since he’d mostly recovered, he’d been thinking about what happened next. Even let himself consider the possibility of staying at the base, finding some way to make it work. Maybe rebuild somehow. It was borderline delusional, though. There wasn’t anything to rebuild, let alone create.

  He smiled at Washington, who still seemed to be most comfortable in his fatigues. “I’m not gonna say it isn’t tempting,” he admitted. “But we have to move on. If it was just me…”

  “I know.” Washington nodded. “You got your family to look after.”