He balled a hand into a fist and slammed it into his open palm. “But I’m alive and we have to build something back and I know that means people will die. I’ve seen it before. I… I want to be strong enough. I keep telling myself, you know—it has to be done. They’re orders, you know?”

  “I know.” Lana forced her voice to stay low and gentle, but she inched forward and dug her fingers into the mat. There was more under Derek’s words. Something else she could see in his eyes. A sharp, awful fear. She chose her next words carefully. “Maybe it’ll change. Eventually, I mean. Right?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. There’s this… well. It’s classified.”

  “Sure,” Lana said, and waved it off. “I get it. I guess I was thinking”—her mind raced, trying to put together the right words that would open him up, pry loose his resolve —“that… you know… how many could there be? Civilians, I mean, coming up the mountain.”

  “More than you might think.” He eyed her, then grimaced and shook his head. “I don’t know—I mean, it’s not like you won’t hear about it after the fact. There’s this op the general’s about to pull the trigger on. Some big group of civvies are coming through.”

  He swallowed with a grimace. “We’re gonna clear the mountain, establish a secure border. Your dad hooked us up with secure radios, so we’ll have a better comms zone. Then we can finally clean house, I guess, and then everything will be a lot easier. More peaceful, you know?”

  Lana’s heart leaped to her throat. Clean house. She hid her reaction, though, and gave a weak smile. “I mean, it’ll be nice to be able to go outside without worrying about who might be there waiting. You’re going, then? On the op?”

  “Yeah,” he confirmed, his eyes going distant. “One big push and… I doubt I’ll be able to transfer out of infantry, but hopefully it’ll be a lot less eventful.”

  If there was more to know, she didn’t think Derek was going to tell her. Instead of pressing him and tipping her hand, she waited until he was looking at her again before glancing up at the clock. “Wow.” She made a show of hurrying to stand. “I didn’t realize how late it was. I should get back to quarters. Mom and Dad like to do this whole, tell-me-about-your-day thing.”

  Derek stood with her. “Must be nice. Thanks for talking.”

  Lana forced another smile. “It was good.”

  She knew what came next. It wasn’t hard to tell it was coming, given the way Derek stiffened, his eyes drifting briefly to her lips. He rubbed the side of his neck, and then moved in, closing the space between them in one step. Lana braced herself.

  Derek’s lips pressed to hers—not overly aggressive, a little awkward. Still, even as her heart pounded from far more important things than a kiss, it wasn’t all that bad. Derek’s lips were soft, full. He smelled of salt and musk, and his end-of-the-day stubble scratched briefly at her lips.

  A pang of guilt hit Lana in the gut, but she managed not to jerk away. Jessup was dead. He wasn’t coming back, no matter how many times she imagined he did.

  Derek pulled back with a worried look. “Sorry. I mean—not sorry, just… I should have asked, probably.”

  Lana cleared her throat. “You get a pass, this time. But I really do need to go. My parents worry, you know, and we don’t get a lot of time, so…”

  He gave a quick, exaggerated nod and stepped out of her way. “Sure, yeah. Don’t let me keep you. Uh… see you tomorrow morning?”

  “Six sharp,” she agreed.

  She hustled to the door before glancing back. He hadn’t moved. “Night, Derek.”

  “Night, Machert.”

  Lana slipped out as if she were in no hurry at all. But as soon as the door closed, she picked up the pace, barely shy of an all-out run. She didn’t have time to process the kiss or think about Jessup for once. Hopefully, at least her mother was already back.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  RAY

  Outside of Lansing, NC

  Friday, June 18th, 6:35 pm EST

  Ray spat his wad of dip on the ground and flicked a clump of decaying leaves over it. Two days picking over the mountain toward the compound had sobered his mind and tightened his nerves. His temper balanced precariously on the edge of losing it and going on a rager. This damn well better work.

  Jake crept forward in the dark a half a dozen steps ahead. Thanks to the grim reality of life in an empty town with nothing to lose, Gus hadn’t needed to offer much to convince the people holed up at that chemical plant to come along for the ride.

  At this point, they didn’t have a choice. It was either raid the mountain compound, or die of starvation. They were back there, somewhere, and headed their way no matter what.

  Too late to back out now. Not that he’d ever let on to the boys he had some doubts. Ray hitched up his pants and crouched beside Jake who’d stopped beside a gnarled hardwood atop a rise on the mountainside. Right on target. This whole operation was no different than hunting. Pick a spot, flush out the prey, keep eyes and ears open, take aim, pull the trigger.

  Killing a man had to be about the same as killing a deer and these SOBs had it coming. This was their mountain, their home. Not some army base where guys like Ray weren’t welcome. They would take it back and he’d be king. Maybe he’d even let that skank and her kids come live with him up on the hill. If she stayed in line, that was.

  Jake fingered a small radio, turning the knobs and listening for activity. Each man had one, with a set of earbuds for staying quiet. Just about everyone in the hills had a pair of walkie-talkies for hunting with cell service being so spotty. It had been easy to find enough.

  With any luck, they’d pick up a radio communication from the patrols and know the best time to strike. Worst case, they used them to alert the group from the chemical plant the coast was clear, so to speak. If the bastards in the base assumed the plant group was responsible for taking out the patrols, Ray and his crew could close in.

  Thinking through the plan puffed his confidence and soothed his nerves. The patrol group he’d dubbed one, usually six men, all armed, should pass nearby at some point.

  They could handle six, him and Jake. They just had to get the first shots off, make them count, and get the pretty boys scattering and panicked. He didn’t have some delusion that it would be easy, exactly. But from their vantage point, they were higher than the patrol and could keep cover.

  Ray clapped his friend on the shoulder. “You good?”

  “Good,” Jake confirmed. “You nervous?”

  “Nah,” Ray lied. It was early evening, not that you could tell anymore, with just enough light to aim by, but not so much that they’d be easily spotted. He knelt, scooped up a handful of the loose ash on the ground and rubbed it on Jake’s coat.

  Jake returned the favor, and within minutes, they were both covered head to toe in gray, like most everything else. Ray knocked fists with Jake, and they split up, each tracking the rise to a concealed point out of range of each other’s rifles. Ray knelt on the ground and steadied himself against a tree and a rocky outcrop. He scanned the trees for Jake, but couldn’t see him. Good.

  After a few minutes, he settled into a pattern: scan the trees, twist the radio dial, listen for any chatter. Rinse, repeat. After an hour, something hissed. He twisted the dial back, his ears sharpened, and closed his eyes. It was static, mostly, but there was something in it. Words he could barely make out.

  “Charlie… final… all quiet… over.”

  Jake hadn’t been able to identify each patrol team, but the radio didn’t have all that much range. They were situated at the furthest point of this team’s route from the base, if Jake had tracked them accurately.

  It took another few moments before Ray heard the first footfalls off to the south of their position. He inhaled slowly, careful not to huff in ash through the bandana over his lips and nose. His fingers flexed on the stock of his rifle as he shifted it into a better position, pointed toward the kill box. His heart beat faster.

  He found himself suddenly thinking about Lerlaine.

  Maybe things would be different with her after this. He wouldn’t be so stressed all the time. Wouldn’t be so easy to rattle. She’d see that he could manage everything and maybe stop nagging at him all the time. Be grateful for once.

  The soldiers came into view a few yards south of the kill zone. They were alert, their weapons up, barrels swinging as they surveyed the area. Ray tensed, but none of them settled on him.

  He spotted one near the middle of the group—there were seven, not six, but that hardly mattered—with a bigger pack on his back than the others. A short, black antenna stuck out of one corner. That was the radio, then. Jake’s target.

  Ray lowered his head, peered through his scope, and angled his rifle toward one of the men up front. He followed him, and only lost sight briefly as he crossed one of the two trees between them.

  The soldier came back into view. A second later, behind the patrol, something hard struck a tree. Jake had pitched a rock into the woods. The whole patrol went on high alert, guns coming up, lining up scopes with eyes. They were stationary for just long enough.

  One, two, three, Ray counted to himself before he exhaled slowly and squeezed the rifle’s trigger.

  The two shots were so close together that they almost sounded like one. The rifle’s stock bucked against his shoulder. The lead soldier’s neck exploded at the same time as the one with the radio flopped backward.

  Instantly, the other five scattered. Some laid cover fire, just like Ray had figured they would. A bullet struck the tree he was laid up by, spraying him with a hail of splinters that he flinched from but otherwise ignored as he tracked one of the soldiers who’d taken cover from Jake’s fire.

  It was a shorter affair than he expected. No drawn-out fire fight. Just five soldiers scrambling for cover. Then four. Then three. Then two.

  Then it was quiet again.

  Ray’s pulse hammered in his neck, throbbing through his entire body. His hands shook on the rifle, and he laid still for a while, listening. Finally, he crawled out of cover. His eyes were wide, unblinking as he picked his way toward the strewn bodies. Jake emerged a second later, his rifle up and twitching from side to side.

  In the distance, other shots rang out, muffled by a quarter mile or so of broken forest and drifts of ash that gathered in every concave surface. Some of it was automatic. Some had the sharp, brutally short crack of rifle fire. “They’re gonna hear that at the base,” Jake whispered.

  Ray snorted as he knelt by one of the fallen soldiers and pried the automatic rifle from his grip. The strap was ruined, but that wasn’t a big deal. He hefted it and grinned. “Won’t hardly matter. He nodded toward the radio pack. “See what you can hear on that thing.”

  Jake trotted toward the radio as Ray moved to collect more guns. Army issue, from the looks of them. Each soldier had at least one extra magazine, some had two. He stuffed them into his jacket pockets, replaced the magazines on two of the guns, and slung one rifle across his back, another under his shoulder. He prepped two more for Jake, then moved to where Jake knelt by the radio.

  “Anything?”

  Jake pulled the headphones down from his ear before he waved at the radio pack where he’d exposed a number pad covered in plastic. “It’s some kinda secure line. I don’t know the code. I only get about every other word; I think it’s broke or something. Someone got word back to the base, though, I can tell that much. They’re scrambling, we gotta move in quick.”

  Ray spat out a curse. If they didn’t entirely have surprise on their side anymore, at least they knew it. He tossed Jake a rifle, then handed him three extra magazines when he stood. “Let’s move in, then.”

  “I can’t tell if the boys hit their targets. You sure?”

  Ray looked over his rifle, smiling. “No turning back now, brother. Radio the folks down the mountain that it’s time to cross. Then let’s raise some hell.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ELIZABETH

  Horse Creek Base, New United States

  Friday, June 18th, 7:03 pm EST

  Elizabeth laid on the cot, fingers pressed to her forehead. A persistent headache pounded just behind her eyes. How long had it gone on? Hours? Days? She didn’t have a clue.

  She reached beneath her pillow and found the hard shape of a keycard there. For the moment, she left it there. If she was caught with it, there was no telling what would happen. Of course, if she didn’t have it on her if she needed it…

  Caleb had come to find her in the kitchen just before dinner. He’d eased up behind her as she peeled potatoes and slid his arms around her waist. At first, she’d been pleasantly surprised. But when he whispered in her ear, it wasn’t anything romantic or sweet.

  “Don’t react,” he’d whispered. “Thomas is putting me on detail with the lieutenant you overheard. I’m headed out at 1600. Laugh a little, try to make it convincing.”

  Elizabeth had glanced at Marta, who was obviously watching, despite her busy hands, and forced a strained little laugh.

  Caleb growled softly and nibbled at her ear before going on, his hands trailing over her stomach. “There’s a key card under the pillow in our quarters. Top security, it’ll open any door in the base. At 2100 hours, get Lana, and leave out the back exit. I’ll make sure it’s clear. Tell me you’ll wear something sexy if you remember how to get there.”

  The words had made her blood turn to ice as she scanned her memory. The back exit… Elizabeth knew where it was. She’d passed it a few times. “I’ll… wear something sexy,” she said, her voice shaking uncontrollably as she forced herself not to look at Marta.

  Caleb kissed her neck, then withdrew a bit, made her turn to face him, and pressed his lips to hers. It was a real kiss—deep, firm, full of passion and maybe even desperation. It certainly was for her. She tried to say everything with that kiss that she couldn’t have said out loud. I’m terrified, but I trust you. Be safe. Please, God, be safe.

  When he pulled away from her, his eyes were hard and fierce. “Looking forward to it, beautiful,” he said, loud enough for Marta to overhear. “See you then.”

  They shared another, shorter kiss before Caleb left her.

  Marta looked over at her when he was gone, one eyebrow up. “End of the world and all they can think about is you-know-what?”

  She’d smiled, shrugged, and went back to her work, barely managing to peel without slicing her fingers.

  Now, as she laid in their quarters on the verge of hyperventilating, a maelstrom swirled in her skull. How would they get to the exit without being stopped by someone? Even if they could justify being in that part of the base, there would be guards on the inside. What was near the back entrance? Anything she could claim she needed?

  She didn’t know the answers, couldn’t slow her mind down enough to think rationally, and plan. If Caleb hadn’t formulated the details, was it because he didn’t know what she should do, either, or because he trusted her to come up with them?

  If so, his trust was badly misplaced.

  I’m useless for this. I’m dead weight, just like the general said about those people.

  The thought wormed its way into her, and she couldn’t shake it. She closed her eyes against a sudden burn. How was she supposed to do this?

  The door opened suddenly, hard enough that she felt the wind of it. Her eyes snapped open, and she jerked upright, a cascade of apologies already on her lips. “I’m sorry, I was just—Lana?”

  Her daughter looked out into the hallway quickly, then closed the door and hurried to the side of the cot. “Where’s Dad?” Lana demanded.

  Elizabeth blinked several times, confused at the urgency. Did Lana know? “I… don’t know. Outside. He… what’s wrong?”

  Lana’s nostrils flared as she chewed her lip, then backed up and dropped to the edge of her own cot. “There’s an operation happening. Derek told me about it. I’m not sure what’s going on, but he seemed to think it’s the next ‘step’ in Thomas’s plan. Securing the mountain, or something. He said something about a civilian group headed toward us.”

  Elizabeth’s gut sank. Was that where Caleb had gone? To take part in some kind of massacre? “Oh… God.”

  “What?” Lana asked. She leaned forward, peering at Elizabeth to catch her gaze. “Mom, what? Where’s Dad? Does he know about this? Does he have a plan? We can’t just let these people die.”

  This didn’t make it any easier for Elizabeth to think. She swung her legs off the cot, breathing hard. “I don’t know, I… maybe.”

  “Okay, well,” Lana pressed, “what is it? Mom? Jesus—Mom, breathe.”

  Then Lana was in front of her, pulling her hands from her thighs where Elizabeth had begun to wring the fabric of her fatigue pants. Her daughter’s hands were rougher than Elizabeth remembered.

  “Look at me.” Lana squeezed, putting pressure on Elizabeth’s palms. “Breathe in. Deep. Good—hold it. Hold it. Breathe out slow, force it through your lips, like this.”

  Elizabeth followed along as Lana pressed her lips together and blew a tight, loud stream of air through the small opening she made there. They breathed like that a few times, their eyes locked, until finally, Elizabeth began to calm. Not so much that she was at ease, but enough that her heart slowed, and her lungs no longer pumped so hard.

  “What do you know?” Lana asked finally, still crouched in front of her. “Where’s Dad?”

  Hiding the truth from Lana was out of the question, of course. Still, Elizabeth had an instinct to deflect, to tell her not to worry. To keep her sheltered. But she’s not, anymore. There’s nowhere to hide from this.

  She stared at her daughter. The woman in front of her, dressed in army green, a bit of grime on her face from where she must have been sweating, her hair a tangle of matted dark locks… Lana had told Caleb that she wasn’t a little girl. Not some innocent college student. And she’d been right.