Everyone here is too afraid to do anything. I get it. I’ve lived with fear most of my life but I’m done with that now. After everything that’s happened over the last few days, I can’t let fear drive me anymore. I’ve seen up close and personal that life can change in a split second, that love and life can be snatched away just as quickly. I need to fight now, fight for everything I want before it’s taken. But every second we waste in here, Luna’s out there alone.
I glance toward the guards stationed at each corner of the lot. They all look alert and have tight grips on their weapons. Whoever these fuckers are, they’re not here to protect us. They’re too tense, too aggressive, like they’re waiting for a reason to lash out. I haven’t even seen anyone who seems to be in charge of this clusterfuck.
My stomach churns from the pathetic excuse for food they gave us this morning. Another stale gas station type sandwich, same as last night. The bread was dry enough to cut your gums, and it had something pretending to be meat between it. It’s not even the hunger that makes me want to punch something. It’s the helplessness. It’s seeing Jules, who’s always been a rock for me, unravel minute by minute.
“Hey,” I greet him in a low voice as I sidle up next to him. “You doing okay?”
He huffs. “No. Not really. Thinking of throwing hands with the next fucker that looks at me wrong.”
“Yeah, don’t do that,” I mutter. “We need you in one piece.”
Julian opens his mouth to reply, but a sharp, clear bird whistle cuts through the murmur of voices and clink of shifting weapons.
It’s so out of place that I go still except for my eyes scanning for where it came from. I don’t see anything at first, but when it trills again, I get a lock on the direction it’s coming from.
I step away from Jules, moving toward the fence line, head tilting as I scan the shadows beneath the transport trailers parked against the far lot wall. Something flickers with movement and then I see a pair of familiar eyes peek out.
“Holy shit,” I whisper.
Gage. It’s fucking Gage over there hiding under one of the trailers.
He peeks out from under the trailer, face streaked with dirt, eyes locked onto mine. We’re too far to speak, but we try anyway. We mouth words that don’t quite land. Then Gage lifts his hands and makes a heart shape over his chest, pointing at me, then at the warehouse behind me and I understand.
Luna. He’s asking if she’s here.
I give my head a tiny shake. I watch his face fall just a little but our little game of charades gives me an idea. A way to talk. I lift my hand and tap two fingers to my shoulder, then flick them out. The old baseball sign for steal home. Go back. Find her.
Gage stares at me for a second, then gives a small nod. He lifts the rifle slung at his side and gestures toward one of the guards. Asking the question if he should try to take the guy out?
I shake my head firmly. No. Not now, not yet. Then I switch signs. Classic cartoon sneak. Two fingers tiptoeing across my palm.
Gage gives a tiny smile. The first I’ve seen in days. Then he motions with his hands to wait. I exhale slowly, watching as he melts back into the shadows and disappears. He’ll find her. He’ll come back for us. We just have to hold on.
I turn away from the fence and head back toward Julian and the others. I have to force myself to move slowly and not smile with the burst of new hope that I have.
“We’ve got a shot,” I say quietly as I reach them. “Gage is here.”
Julian straightens, eyes wide. “Where?”
“That’s what that bird whistle was. He was over by the fence line under the trailer. I told him to go check on Luna. He’ll be back. We just have to be ready.”
And now, for the first time since we got taken, I actually believe we can get out of this. We’re not out yet, but we’re not alone either, not anymore. Backup is on the way, and we can do anything as a team.
Chapter 65 - Luna
I grip the steering wheel tighter, my palms sweaty despite the chill of the air conditioning I have blasting on high. My eyes scan every intersection, every parked car, searching for my Jeep that Gigi took yesterday for gas. The roads are mostly empty, but tension simmers everywhere that I do see people and most of the businesses look like they've been cleaned out by looters.
"Come on, Gigi," I whisper in frustration and fear. "Where the hell are you?"
I make one more slow pass down Main, my heart sinking with every block. Nothing. No Gigi, no Jeep in sight, just the growing sense that something's gone horribly wrong. Frustration surges as I slam my hand against the steering wheel and bite back a sob. My throat tightens as tears threaten to turn the street into a blur. I blink them away and spot a cluster of dark green vehicles parked in front of the town’s small police station. They look like military trucks. I slow the car, considering it. They might have information, but there's a large crowd forming and it’s not friendly. People are yelling, shouting,some people are screaming. And soldiers, definitely soldiers, are forcing people toward the waiting school buses. My heart stutters.
Nope. Not going there. I gun it past the chaos and head home.
It’s worse when I turn onto our street. My stomach drops when I see the truck parked three houses down. It’s another military vehicle and I gasp in shock when I see the soldiers dragging a man across his lawn. It’s one of the men who broke into my house a few days ago. He's resisting, trying to fight them off, but one of the soldiers slams a boot into his ribs, and another raises the butt of his rifle…
I can’t watch. Panic claws up my throat as I tear into the driveway and scramble into the house, slamming the door behind me. I reach to snap the deadbolt and change my mind. If they’re going house to house, taking people, they’ll just bash the door down and wreck it anyway. I pull my hand away and leave it open so it looks like the house has been abandoned. My mind races that I have to hide. I have to disappear, or they’ll be dragging me out next.
Penny dances at the back door, whining. She needs to pee. I bite my lip. That might be the only way out. I grab the shotgun, check the load, and sling it across my back. Then I tug open the back door. Penny bolts down the deck stairs for the far corner, nose to the ground. A yell has me turning my head to see Ms. Vallent from three houses down out in her backyard. Our top deck is high enough for me to see more men with guns, dragging her toward her house. Tulip, her small white dog, is barking at them with sharp, angry yips. One of the men lets go of Ms. Vallent and swings his rifle around. I press a hand to my mouth to stop the scream of anger from escaping when a gunshot rings out. My knees go weak with relief when I see Tulip dart away and disappear under their lower deck. Oh God, Oh God! I can’t letthem hurt Penny. I spin away from the scene and race down the stairs.
