Page 107 of Last Light

I shake my head, but he’s actually made me feel a little better.

He knows me.

He cares about me.

He immediately recognized that I was upset and wanted to do something about it.

It’s nice.

To have someone in your life like that.

He doesn’t have to be anything more to me.

***

BY THE TIME WE STOPfor lunch, I’m feeling more like myself. Travis obviously notices and is pleased by this fact. We have tuna and some of the shelf-life-of-twenty-five-years crackers for lunch, and I find another stick to throw for the dog.

We all enjoy it.

We’ve been driving off road for the most part, but we’ve run into a small road and are planning to follow it until we can get to some woods that are coming up in a few miles and should give us better cover.

There’s been no one on this road the whole time we’ve followed it, and we pulled off onto the grass to stop for lunch.

Nothing feels as safe as the woods over the mountains did, but this is as good as anything else around here.

I’m laughing and chasing the dog, trying to get the stick out of his mouth since he’s decided not to relinquish it.

Travis is finishing a bottle of water and watching me play with the dog with a slight smile on his face, but he suddenly snaps out, “Layne!”

I straighten up immediately and look at him.

“Engines,” he says. “Movin’ fast. Come on.Hurry.”

I grab the dog’s neck and push him toward the vehicle. He’s smart and knows exactly what I want. He drops his stick and runs toward the Jeep, keeping pace beside me and jumping in right after me.

I hear the vehicles approaching now. It’s a different sound than the caravan. And moving fast.

Very fast.

They’re on us before Travis can get the Jeep back on the road. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway because they could have easily overtaken us.

This vehicle has served us well, but even at top speed, it doesn’t go very fast.

There are five of them. On large, loud motorcycles.

I know immediately that they’re dangerous. I stopped judging people by appearances a long time ago, but there’s no mistaking the aggression in this group. They must have just been traveling down the road, but as soon as they see us, they come up on us fast, surrounding us with their motorcycles.

They’re all big and frightening and nasty. They all have guns.

Travis already has his shotgun propped against his shoulder and aimed, and I draw my pistol and aim it too—at the man closest to me.

“Keep your back to me,” Travis murmurs hoarsely. “Don’t get out for any reason.”

I nod mutely, my eyes never leaving the man I’m targeting.

There are five of them.

There are only two of us. And a dog.

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