Page 23 of A Wilderness Within

A man in his midfifties had a shotgun aimed at her. His hard blue eyes were cold.

“Please, I just need some supplies…”

The man stared at her without speaking, and she waited for him to shoot her.

“You alone?” he asked.

Caroline wondered how she should answer—lie to give Lincoln the advantage, or tell the truth in the hopes it would make him think twice about doing anything to her.

“Not alone, then,” the man muttered to himself when she took too long to answer. “Pick up your bag, but no sudden moves.”

She bent, grasped the straps of her bag, and slowly straightened. He clicked on a flashlight, shining it brightly in her face. She winced and half shut her eyes to block out the blinding beam of light.

“Where are the others with you?” the man demanded.

“Here,” Lincoln said behind him.

The man whirled, and he grunted as Lincoln slammed a fist into his solar plexus. “Fuck!” The man doubled over and fell to his knees. Caroline, rooted in place, watched as Lincoln raised a gun to the man’s head.

“Wait!” she gasped, at last finding her voice. She rushed to stand behind the stranger and looked at Lincoln. “He didn’t hurt me.”

Lincoln didn’t look at her, his face a mask of hard lines. She couldn’t be sure what he was planning to do, but she feared the worst.

“Please, Lincoln.” The man who’d danced with her last night was tender, merciful. But right now she didn’t know this man, didn’t want to know him.

“You alone?” Lincoln asked, echoing the man’s question.

“Yes.”

Lincoln cocked the hammer. “That’s a lie.”

“My wife, Joanie, she’s in the back. Please, don’t hurt her.” The man’s voice dropped to a broken whisper, and his head lowered in defeat.

“We won’t,” Caroline said more loudly and reached out, pushing Lincoln’s hand with the gun down to point to the floor. “Right, Lincoln?” She tugged on his sleeve, and he looked her way at last.

“We’ll see.” Lincoln nodded for the man to get to his feet. He turned to Caroline and saw the look on her face, and for a moment, where there had been deadly focus, she saw hesitation and doubt. He turned back to the man, a hint of a relaxed smile on his lips. “You’d make an awful Walmart greeter.”

“These are different times, son. Not easy to know who to trust.”

“But it has to start somewhere,” said Caroline. “This is Lincoln, and I’m Caroline.”

The man smiled hesitantly. “I’m Glenn.”

“Nice to meet you, Glenn.”

The man took a deep breath. “Sorry I scared you. My wife and I have been here for a few weeks now. I thought we were finally safe, but then I saw your car pull in and got worried. Bands of men have been roving around, some shooting people, others taking whatever they wanted.” He shuddered. “Last month, I saw a group of them execute a kid. Akid. They threw his body in a ditch. He couldn’t have been more than ten.” Glenn’s voice grew rough with emotion. “I didn’t want folks like that finding us.”

“And I’m sure Caroline here just struck terror into your heart,” Lincoln growled, holstering his pistol.

“We can’t be too careful,” said Glenn. “Mean comes in all shapes and sizes.”

“We’re doing the same, avoiding people like that,” Caroline reassured him.

“Let me introduce you to Joanie. She would love to have someone to talk to.”

Glenn used his flashlight to guide them to the back of the store where a sort of small town had been built up using shelves. Inside were a couple of tents and quite a bit of stockpiled food.

“Joanie, we’ve got guests,” Glenn called out. A woman emerged from the tent nearest them, a gun raised as she assessed the situation.