Sienna steps up to the lock, her hands steady as she inserts the key. The heavy padlock falls open, and she works the chain loose from the bars, letting it clatter to the ground.
“Now the car,” he says.
The reverend just stands there, trembling.
“Help us push.” Sienna grabs his arm. “Unless you want to die here.”
He jerks like she’s shocked him, then stumbles forward.
The three of us position ourselves behind the car. It’s wedged tight against the gate, exactly as intended when Cameron parked it there. I brace my hands against the hot metal of the trunk, stealing a glance back at the church. No sign of the others, but they’re watching.
I know they are.
“On three,” Sienna says. “One, two—Push!”
We strain against the weight of the vehicle. My muscles scream, feet slipping on gravel. The car doesn’t budge.
“Put your backs into it!” Melissa circles us, shotgun raised.
“The parking brake,” I gasp. “It’s still on.”
Beard-guy swears. “Then open the door, and release it.”
Sienna does as ordered, popping the driver’s side door and disengaging the brake. The reverend’s prayers grow more incoherent, his face red with exertion and fear.
“Again!” Sienna commands.
This time, the car rolls forward, inch by agonizing inch. My palms sting against the hot metal, but I lean harder into it. We need to succeed. Amelia’s life depends on it.
“That’s enough.” The leader’s voice cuts through our grunting efforts.
I turn to see him approach in the sports car, the other woman following in an SUV behind. Beard-guy holding the gun on us backs toward the sports car, never lowering his weapon.
“Get in,” the leader calls to him. “The other two as well.”
Melissa jogs to the SUV, sliding into the backseat.
“What about them?” Lenny jerks his chin toward us.
The leader leans out the window, his eyes lingering on me, cold and calculating. “They’ve served their purpose.”
Is he going to shoot us anyway?
The reverend drops to his knees. “Please, I beg you?—”
“Shut up.” The leader’s gaze shifts to Sienna, then back to me. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “Next time, sweetheart.”
Lenny climbs into the passenger seat of the SUV, winking at my sister.
“See ya,” the leader calls out, a mock salute as they accelerate past us through the gate.
The SUV follows, tires kicking up gravel. And just like that, they’re gone, taking our vehicles, our supplies, and our hope.
The reverend remains on his knees, face buried in his hands, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
I spin around, searching for Amelia. She stands a few meters away, looking like a strong wind might knock her over. Tears streak her pale face, but she’s alive.
I cross to her, catching her as she sways, my arms wrapping around her too-thin frame. Her skin feels clammy, pulse fluttering like a trapped bird beneath my fingertips.
