Silence followed, broken only by the soft pop of the wood stove and Sophia’s steady breathing from across the room. Dutch moved to the window, checking the perimeter by habit.I rolled my left shoulder carefully, testing the joint. Pain shot down to my elbow.
“Langston,” Evelyn said, the name dropping from her lips like a stone. “If he did this to an entire town just to find us, what else is he capable of?”
I didn’t have an answer.
CHAPTER 11
EVELYN
“Appreciate the patch job,”Dutch said, flexing his fingers to test the bandage when Trent finished wrapping his arm. “Been cut worse shaving.”
Trent secured the gauze with medical tape. “Seven stitches isn’t nothing. You need to keep it clean.”
Dutch grunted and pulled his arm back. “Got more important things to worry about than a scratch.”
“It’s not a scratch,” I said. “Those scissors nearly hit your artery.”
The old man’s eyes met mine, hard as the rocks that surrounded his cabin. “Takes more than little kiddie scissors to put me down.”
He pushed himself to his feet, wincing slightly when his injured arm bumped the table. He crossed to the gun cabinet in the corner and pulled out a smaller handgun than the rifle he’d carried earlier. The metal caught the lamplight as he checked the chamber and slid it into a shoulder holster hidden beneath his worn flannel shirt.
“What are you doing?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
“Heading back to town.” Dutch pulled a small pair of binoculars from a drawer. “Need to know what we’re up against.”
Trent straightened, his left arm still held carefully against his body. “That’s suicide. The entire town’s compromised.”
“Not everyone.” Dutch tucked the binoculars into his jacket pocket. “Some folks have wells. Others are suspicious of the town water. Been telling people for years it was full of chemicals.” A thin smile creased his weathered face. “For once, I was right.”
“Dutch,” I said, moving closer to him. “It’s too dangerous. You saw what happened to Carol, to Wade, to Beth. They’d kill you without blinking.”
He pulled a worn knit cap over his gray hair. “I know these people better than you do. Know where they live, know their habits. Some of ‘em have been telling me about their off-grid setups for years.”
Trent studied Dutch’s face, then crossed to his duffel. He dug through it and pulled out a small black device the size of a pen. “Take this. It’s a signal detector. If you get close to the cell tower or any other transmitter broadcasting the control signal, it’ll vibrate. Don’t go near those locations.”
Dutch took the device, examining it with narrowed eyes. “Military grade?”
“Better.” Trent showed him how to clip it inside his pocket. “And take this.” He handed over a small black disc. “Tracker. Activate it if you need extraction. We’ll come for you.”
Dutch tucked both items away without comment and checked his pockets for the keys to the truck he’d hidden half a mile down the mountain. “Figure I’ll check the houses on the outskirts first. Jeb Harper’s got a spring on his property. Nevertrusted the town supply.” He glanced at me. “The Kline family filters everything. Lindsay’s a nurse, paranoid about water quality.”
I watched him gather supplies: a flashlight, extra ammunition, beef jerky, a canteen filled with water from his own well. His movements were practiced, each item placed in a specific pocket. He’d done this before.
“How will you contact us?” I asked. “We don’t have phones.”
“Got a two-way radio in my truck,” Dutch said. “Range isn’t great, but it’ll reach the cabin. There’s a matching one in the drawer by the sink.” He pointed with his good hand. “Channel three, tone six.”
Trent retrieved the radio, checking the battery and settings. “Check in every hour. If we don’t hear from you by midnight, we assume you’re compromised.”
Dutch nodded. “Fair enough.”
I tried to imagine Dutch wandering through Garnett, a town now full of blank-eyed people who moved in unison and spoke in flat voices. People who would see him immediately as an outsider, someone not part of their hive. The thought made my stomach twist.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said quietly. “Trent’s team will be here in eight hours.”
Dutch adjusted his hat, eyes meeting mine. “Eight hours is a long time, and there might be others out there. Folks who need help.” He paused. “I’ve lived in Garnett damn near my whole life. These are my neighbors.”
I understood then. Dutch wasn’t just gathering intelligence. He was looking for survivors.
