Bitter Cold Apocalypse 2 (A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller) Read online

  “So if they took you hostage, like you say, and forced you to join them, what the hell are you doing with this jackass now?” Logan asked.

  “What’s it look like I’m doing?” Henry asked, his voice amazingly reasonable. “I’m getting him this far so’s you can take him prisoner, which is what I figured you would have wanted to do. Right from the start, I saw that he was the leader. Right from the start, I figured he was the one you’d want. So when he asked for volunteers to go with him on a spying mission, I raised my hand. Figured I’d turn him in and join you at the same time—kill two birds with one stone. Smart, eh?”

  The silence from Logan told me very clearly that it was smart—too smart for Henry. He was a good guy, but he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, and Logan must have known that. Which made that story…hard to buy.

  Unless he wasn’t sharp enough to catch onto that. I was hoping Logan was just smart enough to see the sense in the plan…and not smart enough to see the holes.

  He kept silent as we trudged forward, and I watched the camp getting closer and closer, trying to make a decision. If we got into that camp, I thought, we were going to be in a whole lot more trouble than we already were. Right now we only had Logan to deal with. If we got all the way to where they’d built their little fort, there were going to be more men—and more guns. Possibly even Randall.

  Logan might be smarter than the other cousins, but he wasn’t their leader. That was always going to be Randall. If we could get Logan to make some sort of decision before he found Randall… If we could get him to step out of line and decide something on his own, without Randall’s craftiness, and without Randall’s absolute aggression…

  We might be able to trick him into making the wrong decision.

  But we were going to have to do it fast. Not only because I wanted to get it done before we got to their camp, but also because we were going to run out of daylight.

  As well as time to get back into town and help them prepare for whatever Randall and his men were planning on doing.

  “So you were planning this all along?” I snarled, finally bringing my part of the story into the situation. “You thought it was just going to be that easy, to bring me down here and turn me in to these jackasses? Didn’t think I’d put up a fight?”

  I saw Henry cast a glance out of the corner of his eye in my direction, and made the big eyes at him again. Look at me too much and he was going to give away the fact that we were in this together. He had to keep this story up on his own.

  He turned his eyes quickly past me and toward Logan, then rolled them like he couldn’t believe how freaking stupid I was.

  It was perfect.

  “You hearing this guy?” he asked with half a grin. “He’s actually surprised that I’m not his friend. Actually surprised that I would choose my real friends over a bunch of people who kidnapped me. Guess he doesn’t know us outdoorsmen as well as he thinks he does, huh? Because we never turn on our friends. We’ve got more loyalty than that.”

  I felt the pressure ease off the gun in my back, and tensed. Was this actually working? Was Logan actually buying this?

  “He’s not from here,” Logan said. “He could never understand what it was like to grow up here. Could never understand what it’s like to look out for the people you’ve known your entire life.”

  My God, he was buying it.

  And he was right. I hadn’t grown up here. But I knew exactly what it was like to look out for the people I chose to look out for.

  And with that in mind, I whirled around so quickly and unexpectedly that I knew Logan wouldn’t have the instinct to react, and went for his gun.

  9

  I knocked the gun he’d had pressed into my back up toward the sky, and then grabbed the hand that held the gun with both of my hands and twisted, breaking his wrist. The moment after the crack rang out over the landscape, his fingers lost their grip, and I was able to pull the gun right out of his hand without any trouble.

  Logan screamed in pain and went right to his knees, and my mouth twisted at this pathetic response.

  But that didn’t stop me from finishing the job. Logan was the one who had started this fight. I didn’t feel even a little bit bad about finishing it. Especially if it meant we got away—and could get back to town before anything went down.

  I gave him a quick jab to the nose and then another to the temple, and he went down like a bag of potatoes—and didn’t get back up again.

  I knew because I stood there for several moments, waiting to see if he would. Waiting to see if he was going to get up swinging, or come after us as we left, or scream for help. But he didn’t. He stayed on the ground, bleeding from the nose, his wrist turned at an awkward angle.

  I counted to thirty to see if he was faking, and when he didn’t move, I inched closer and grabbed my CZ and Henry’s hunting rifle, which was slung over the unconscious man’s shoulder. I holstered my pistol and turned to Henry, handing him his rifle.

  “Terrific job,” I told him quickly. “You did exactly what I needed you to do.”

  His mouth was hanging open—and probably had been through the entire fight—but he closed it with a snap, now, and then frowned. “But we didn’t get anything,” he said. “We don’t know any more now than we did.”

  At that moment, we heard a roar from behind us, and I turned just in time to see what had to be one hundred men tearing through the campground, and heading right for us.

  “Shit,” I muttered.

  I turned back to Henry, grabbed his arm, and started racing for the forest. I didn’t know if those men were after us, or if they were actually starting their invasion, or if they were just…out for some sort of after-pep-rally run. And I didn’t care.

  Whatever they were doing, I didn’t want to be a part of it. And we had to make sure they didn’t see us. Because if they did, they were going to put whatever they were supposed to be doing to the side and come directly after us—which we couldn’t afford. Yeah, they might pause when they got to Logan, and that might buy us some time.

  But it wasn’t going to be a lot. Our best hope—our only hope—was to get into the forest and lose ourselves in there. Find a place to hide from them. And then keep as still and quiet as we could until they’d cleared out.

  It wasn’t a good plan. But it was all I had.

  10

  MARLON

  Marlon stared at the men rushing through the camp, his mouth tight in displeasure and surprise.

  “Dammit.”

  Things had certainly gone sideways in a hurry. At first, it had seemed like everything might, shockingly, turn around. One minute, Logan Smith had been forcing John and Henry toward the camp, gun aimed at their backs, his mouth moving quickly, his face caught in a dangerous scowl. Marlon had seen Henry talking—using the story they’d come up with, he hoped, rather than something that would actually put John in danger—and then suddenly John had been moving.

  He’d disarmed Logan quickly, then sent the man to the ground. Logan hadn’t moved since he’d fallen.

  John had taken a short amount of time to make sure Logan wasn’t going to move—time when Marlon had been screaming at him in his head to get the hell out of there—and they’d looked like they were about to move when suddenly the entire campground had come alive with men.

  More men than Marlon had realized they’d had. He hadn’t been watching the campground at the time, as his attention had been all for John and Henry. So it had been unclear where they’d all come from, but watching them rush through the alleys and walkways of the camp now, one thing was crystal clear: John and Henry were in trouble. There were a lot more men now than there had been before—and they were all heading for John and Henry.

  Marlon didn’t know for sure if they’d seen his friends. If John and Henry could get out of their quickly enough, get to the forest, they might be able to hide there and keep the men from seeing them at all.

  But that was only going to last until those men got to Logan.
Because whatever the crowd was doing, they were going to pause when they saw one of their number on the ground, no doubt bleeding and broken. And if he was alive, they were going to try to wake him up.

  If he woke up, he’d tell them who had done that to him. And Marlon knew Randall well enough to know that he would never let John go. Not if he thought he had him at a disadvantage in the forest. Apparently, John had taken Randall and his three cousins out with his own two hands in Randall’s own home, and then taken the woman Randall had been planning to use as a kidnap victim.

  Then Marlon, John, and Angie had escaped him again and again on their trek to Ellis Woods.

  No, Randall wouldn’t be forgiving. The moment he knew John was on that side of the river, he’d be going out of his way to find him. Find him and kill him.

  Which meant they had to make sure he didn’t find out.

  “Joe, you see the guy on the ground?” Marlon asked sharply.

  “Course I do,” he muttered.

  “Right. I don’t know if he’s alive or dead, but we can’t have him telling all those men who he just let escape. If he’s still alive, we have to make sure he’s dead before they get there. Are you up to the task?”

  Instead of answering, Joe pulled his rifle up to his face, ducked down to put his eye to the scope, and pulled the trigger.

  Marlon gasped in surprise at this action, then turned to look at Logan again. Joe pulled the trigger once more, and Logan’s body jumped, then grew absolutely still again.

  “Two head shots do it?” Joe asked quietly.

  Marlon kept his face neutral. He really should have learned more about this guy’s background. If he was that good with a gun, it would have really opened up their options half an hour ago. But there was no time for that now. Right now, they had to do whatever it took to give John and Henry the head start they needed to get back to the bridge.

  “That’ll do,” Marlon answered simply. “Now let’s start working on the bigger crowd. We need to give John and Henry time to get away. We don’t necessarily have to hit anyone, so don’t take too much time to aim. Our mission now is to create chaos.”

  “Got it,” Joe said.

  And they both started shooting right into Randall’s crowd of hooligans.

  11

  JOHN

  The shooting started the moment we hit the forest, and I went skidding on my stomach in the snow, my instincts taking over and telling me to get the hell down. Present a smaller target for whoever was shooting at us.

  It didn’t even matter who it was. There was an enormous crowd of men coming up behind us, and they were all part of Randall’s gang. I assumed that meant they were all also armed—and had orders to shoot intruders on sight. If they got to Logan and heard our names, and then ran those names by Randall, I knew the chances were even better of being killed.

  Or taken prisoner. Which I did not want to see happen. Being killed wasn’t ideal. Being taken prisoner—by an enemy who had very little respect for life, and even less liking for you—was about the worst thing that could happen when you were in the middle of a battle.

  At least when you were dead, you were dead. You were beyond the reach of anyone in this life. Beyond the pain that they could cause you.

  “Get down!” I screamed, noticing at that moment that Henry was still running along, completely upright.

  I had to give the man credit, he knew how to take an order. He went immediately into a baseball-style hip slide, his rifle held safely down by his hip. When he came to a stop, he spun around and got onto his stomach, then sent me a look.

  “I thought we were trying to get the hell out of here!” he hissed, his breathing heavy.

  “We’re also trying to avoid getting shot on our way out,” I amended. “I don’t know who the hell’s shooting, but I’m not in the mood to catch a stray bullet.”

  I turned around and glared back out into the open spot between us and the campground, my eyes on the men rushing around out there. Surprisingly, almost none of them were facing our way. In fact, unless my eyes were lying to me, it didn’t look like they’d even managed to get to Logan yet. Instead, they were just sort of…rushing around. Like they’d panicked and didn’t know what to do about it.

  Another shot rang out, followed by at least three more, and I ducked closer to the ground.

  Then, to my surprise, I saw one of the men on the outside of the group go down to the ground. Then another. And then another.

  “They’re not shooting at us,” Henry observed quickly. “Someone is shooting at them.”

  My eyes flew across the river to the car that I thought Marlon and Joe were hiding behind, and within seconds I saw the muzzle flash there that told me that they were indeed hiding behind that car—and they were shooting at the crowd of invaders. Thank God. They must have seen everything that happened, and jumped to some quick conclusions—including that we would need cover if we were going to get away.

  “Marlon,” I said grimly. “Marlon and Joe are laying down cover for us. Keeping those guys distracted so we can get away. Come on.”

  I got quickly to my feet and was about to turn and run into the forest when I saw something else that surprised me.

  Randall had appeared in the midst of his men, seeming not to care about the bullets flying toward them, and was screaming for the men to get themselves under control. For them to remember the mission.

  “They want a fight? We’ll give them one!” he screamed. “This is what we’ve been waiting for! This is our time! Are you ready, men?”

  A roar of excitement tore through the crowd, and it sent chills down my back.

  “Oh my God,” I muttered. “They weren’t running after us. They were just running to the edge of camp. That’s why they have their weapons. That’s why they’re all together. That’s why he was giving them a damned pep talk.”

  “What are you saying?” Henry asked from right next to me. “Why would the pep talk be important?”

  I didn’t answer, for a moment. I just watched as the group tightened up around Randall, screaming, and then turned. Right for the river. Right for the town. Within moments, they were running again—right toward where I could still see Marlon and Joe’s muzzle fire.

  “He was getting them worked up and ready to attack,” I answered quickly.

  I jumped to my feet, grabbed the back of Henry’s jacket, and tugged him up as well. In the distance, I could see the men rushing for the embankment that would lead them right down to the river. They weren’t even going to bother with the bridge. They were going to risk crossing the ice.

  Yeah, it was the quickest way to the town. But it was also the most dangerous. If that ice was as thin as I thought it was, it would never support that many men. Not unless they had something to somehow shore it up. Some other magic from the same bag of tricks that had produced the sheds and all those weapons.

  Whatever they were doing, I wasn’t willing to follow them. I wasn’t willing to risk going into the water—or being seen by those men.

  “Let’s go.”

  I turned around and started running through the woods, back the way we’d come. Back toward the bridge—which would be the only way across the river if Randall and his men broke through the ice. Because once that ice cracked, it was going to become truly unstable. I hadn’t wanted to cross it before, and I wanted to cross it even less with cracks in it.

  “Where’re we going?” Henry shouted, working to catch up with me.

  “Back to the bridge!” I shouted behind me. “We’ve got to get back across the river and to the town, as quickly as possible.”

  “And we can’t just go across the ice?” Henry asked. “Wouldn’t that be faster?”

  “It would be faster, but it’s no safer now than it was this afternoon, when we came across the first time,” I answered. “And if my guess is right, then Randall and his men are going to go right across the ice—which isn’t thick enough to support three men, let alone one hundred. None of whom are going to be ste
pping lightly, if you get my drift.”

  “You think they’re going to go through,” Henry guessed.

  “I sure do,” I agreed. “And I don’t want to be anywhere near the ice when and if that happens. Once it cracks, it’s going to be so unstable that anyone near the banks is going to be in danger of going in.”

  “Think we’ll get to the town before they can?”

  “I sure hope so,” I muttered.

  Yes, I’d left Marlon there so he could lead the town in case this very thing happened. But those weren’t his people. Those were my people. And I didn’t have any intention of leaving them there to fight on their own.

  12

  MARLON

  Marlon watched the crowd of Randall’s men turn suddenly toward the river, and cringed.

  He hadn’t seen that one coming. Hadn’t even thought about it. And that right there was a problem.

  The men rushed toward the river, some of them running faster than others, and within ten minutes they were at the ice, milling around like dogs who didn’t want to enter a lake.

  “They’re not going to go out on the ice, are they?” Joe asked from beside Marlon. “Surely even Randall knows how dangerous that would be.”

  “I wouldn’t put anything past Randall. He’s insane. I’m guessing he’s willing to risk every one of those men if it means he gets across the river to cause trouble.”

  Then Marlon saw what he’d missed up to that point. About ten feet back from the river, in a deeper spot caused by the wind, some of the men were starting to tug and pull at something. They weren’t having much luck, but then Randall arrived and started shouting orders, and the men actually began to work together. They were tugging at what appeared to be a tarp.

  A white tarp. A white tarp that had been hiding something up until that very moment.