Page 68 of Survive the Night
“Could be a ghost town,” another one said, his voice sounding younger than the first.
“This isn’t a ghost town.” The third, judging by her higher-pitched voice and her smaller stature, was a woman. “They’re hiding somewhere.”
“Where?” the younger male asked. “We’ve searched half the houses in this pissant place. No one. It’s like on that show about the virus, after everyone—”
“They’re here,” the woman said, interrupting him. “Blanchett was told they’d be here.”
Told? Who gave Blanchett their location? Otto turned his head and met Theo’s gaze. The possibility that someone they knew had sold them out made his gut churn.
“We’ll drop a couple more bombs, and everyone’ll come scurrying out,” the woman promised. “One more down, and then we can head back to civilization.”
One more down. Were they talking about Sarah? Rage flared in Otto’s chest, and he took a step forward, not knowing if he was going to pound on the three mercenaries who’d laughed about trying to kill her, or if he was going to scale the mountain and run to Dresden to find her and keep her safe. Before he could do either, Theo and Hugh caught him and pulled him back.
He shook them off, his teeth clenched, but they just grabbed him again. As he twisted out of their hold yet again, Otto saw that the three strangers were walking away from them, toward Pound Street. The urge to charge after those monsters who’d talked about killing Sarah so casually was almost unbearably strong.
“Otto. Otto,” Hugh was hissing in his ear. “Listen. They don’t know she’s not in town. They can’t get to her if they don’t even know where she is. You need to calm down, or else you’re going to give everyone here away. Do you want to do that? Do you want to be responsible for our deaths?”
Reason finally penetrated, and Otto stopped fighting the hands restraining him. “I’m okay,” he gritted out. Theo made a disbelieving sound, but his grip on Otto loosened. Hugh released him, although his body posture showed that he was ready to grab Otto if he showed any sign of launching himself after Aaron’s thugs again.
Glancing at Jules, at how stricken she looked, Otto felt his desperate panic bump up again. As if she could read his thoughts, Jules spoke. “Hugh’s right, Otto. She and Grace are probably tucked in one of those boutique hotels in Dresden, snoring away. They’ll be fine.” Jules attempted to force a smile, but it was more of a frightened grimace.
Not wanting to scare Jules any more than she already was, Otto dipped his head in the semblance of a nod. He couldn’t say the words, though, couldn’t say he was sure that Sarah would be fine. Aaron had been in jail and monitored, but he’d managed to unleash an army on the town. Sarah might never be safe.
Despite his relief that she wasn’t in Monroe, he needed to see her, to run his hands over her, check her for any injuries and feel that she was solid and alive. Then he would relax. Until then, they had a small mercenary army to vanquish—and townspeople to help.
“Let’s go.” Otto’s voice didn’t sound like his, even to his own ears. With a final check to make sure the three strangers were out of sight, he slipped out of their hiding spot and moved quickly toward Grady’s, the other three close behind him. He went around back, figuring that there would be less chance of them being spotted going into the store than if they entered through the main doors.
Unlocking the back door, he slipped inside. Pulling out his small flashlight, he took a look around the dark stockroom and then held the door for the others. Hugh and Theo came in next and did a quick search before signaling that the room was clear. The encounter with the three mercenaries had disturbed them all, and they were quiet as they moved through the store toward the sporting goods section. They formed a triangle around Jules, with Otto and Hugh in front and Theo behind. The hunting display was wedged in a corner, tucked behind a glass case. The store was silent except for the almost inaudible sound of their feet on the floor. Hugh stepped forward, bending over the counter to check behind it.
Thump. With a low grunt of pain, Hugh reeled back several steps, yanking Lexi back with him. Otto ran forward, swinging around the end of the counter with his gun up and ready. Why hadn’t the dogs warned them that someone was in the building?
Chapter 19
Sarah had never felt so cold. She buried her gloved hands under Bean’s heavy mane and blinked ice crystals off her lashes. The wind continuously pelted her face with what felt more like BBs than snowflakes. Tucking her chin into the collar of her coat, she tried to look on the bright side. All of them were still alive. In fact, despite the cold, the trip down the road hadn’t been too bad, more monotonous than scary. Every time they came around a curve to a section of road overlooking Monroe, however, there seemed to be a new fire burning. At last count, there had been four.
The faint scent of smoke reached them, and Bean tossed his head uneasily.
“I know, Beanie,” she said softly, rubbing his neck with numb hands. “Not too much longer.” She hoped.
When the buried mountain pass came into view, Sarah wanted to cry. They’d come so far, only to be stopped so close to their destination. She was so cold, and every muscle in her body was both sore and exhausted. Mort had a slight limp, and Hortense was about as pissed-off-looking as a goat could be. Bob had stopped his steady, unhappy growling, but Sarah was pretty sure that was just because the cat was so miserable that he couldn’t even complain about it anymore. Only Bean and Xena had been still going strong.
As they drew closer to the rockslide, Sarah peered through the driving snow at the fallen boulders and trees. There was a strange shape at the base, a dark-colored square that was too symmetrical. Even with the snow partially covering it, she could tell that it couldn’t be natural. She walked Bean toward it. When he got close, he gave one of his long nervous snorts and shied.
Sarah realized what it was—a vehicle. The windshield was so cobwebbed with cracks that it was completely opaque. Her stomach lurched at the thought that someone had been driving on the road when the explosion had occurred. Sliding off Bean, she rushed toward the front of the van. Bean balked, not wanting to walk toward it. She tugged on the lead rope, and he reluctantly followed.
Dreading what she might find inside, she moved to the side. The driver’s door window was white from cracks, as well. Except for the broken windows, two flat tires, and a few serious dents, it looked like the van had escaped the worst of the explosion and subsequent rockslide. As she reached for the driver’s door handle, she hoped desperately that everyone in the van was okay and that they’d walked to safety.
Please be empty, she thought as she jerked open the door. A body toppled toward her, and she jumped back, inhaling a shriek. A man fell limply out of the driver’s seat and landed on his back in the snowy road. Sarah lunged toward the person, her brain spinning. Should she do CPR? She’d never been trained to do it. She didn’t even know how to check for a pulse. Even as the thoughts zipped through her mind, she realized that it was too late to help.
Above the glazed, dead eyes staring through her, there was a round hole. The man had been shot in the head. His legs were bent, as if he still sat in the driver’s seat, his body as stiff as a mannequin’s. Although Sarah didn’t know much about forensics, it was obvious that he’d been dead a long time. Sucking in short, loud breaths, Sarah stared at the body in front of her.
What should I do?
She forced herself to move to the other side of the van. There was nothing she could do for the driver. Questions were swirling through her head, which was fuzzy from shock. Who had shot him? Who was he? Why was he killed? Although she really, really did not want to open the front passenger door, she made her hand grip the handle. As the door swung open, she jumped back in anticipation, but no one fell. The woman had fallen the other way, toward the center. Sarah made herself get close enough to see the faraway, filmy stare and the missing back of her skull before she lurched back and vomited.
Even as she heaved, Sarah panicked. Someone had killed these two people. She needed to go, to find Otto. He’d know what to do. Before she could leave, though, she had to check the rest of the van. If someone else was in there, hurt but not dead, she needed to help them.
