Dating After the End of the World - 36

I reach the compound, winded and sucking air, nearly keeling over. The front gate has been smashed off its hinges. Multiple unfamiliar trucks litter the lawn, with gunshots ringing out from all directions. One vehicle is on fire and several bodies lay splayed out on the grass, guns at their sides and arms kicked up in strange positions, as if permanently frozen in midrun.

The soil is spattered with blood, and I can’t help but be reminded of the similar scene a few days back. But this is on a much larger scale. Screams pierce the air, and there are flashes of movement at the top of the property, but it’s too hard to decipher who is who. It feels like that first night everything went to hell at the hospital, but this time, I’m prepared.

Surveying the mayhem, I decide approaching across the front lawn leaves me too exposed, so I creep along the fence line, making my way into the woods, through the thick foliage, staying low and quiet, while using the brush as cover.

I still can’t believe Nate sold us out. If he was worried about the burners killing him, why didn’t he just tell us so we could have planned our own attack and beefed up our defenses? I already know the answer, though. Nate is a coward who only thinks about himself. Even if there were a way that he could have saved everyone here without betraying their trust, he wouldn’t have cared, so long as numero uno was taken care of. I should have made sure he was dead before I left him on the side of the road. But a slow, painful death is what he deserves. Besides, if he’s such a great doctor, then he should be able to patch himself up. I shake Nate from my thoughts and focus on my surroundings.

Snaking and weaving through the woods, I’m able to quickly and quietly get to the other side of the property without detection. A lifetime of familiarity with the nature here keeps me safe in ways I never would have thought. Near the edge of the tree line, I stop and scan the area, planning my next move. I have no idea how many burners are here. It could be five, it could be fifty, but I’m guessing, based on the number of gunshots I heard, what I saw coming in, and the scouting party they sent the other day, there are at least fifteen to twenty of them.

Ten throwing stars, a knife, and some hand-to-hand combat skills aren’t going to help me take a dozen-plus armed attackers. I edge my way out of the tree line to try to get a glimpse of the sniper tower, but suddenly I’m yanked backward, and the strong tug of something at the middle of my shirt pulls me deeper into the woods. I hold my breath, fumbling quickly for my own knife as I anticipate a burner’s blade slashing across my throat or a bullet leaping from one side of my skull to the other. Instead, I’m twisted around, and two arms wrap around me, squeezing me in a tight embrace. The breath I was holding is forced out by the pressure. I bring the knife in my hand down to my side, instead of plunging into the body in front of me. Because it’s Tessa. Over her shoulder, I see Molly, looking on with abject horror.

“Oh my God. I’m so glad you two are okay.” I squeeze Tessa back, trying to reassure Molly with my eyes that everything is going to be okay, even though I have no idea the severity of what’s going on. She starts to cry and runs to us, joining in on our hug.

I can feel her head shaking against my shoulder as she burrows it into me. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna be okay,” I say, pulling away from both of them. There’s no time for us to fall apart.

“Greg was up there on watch when they stormed the property.” She wipes at her tears, pointing through the trees off toward the sniper tower. “I saw two men go up there. He’s probably . . . he’s probably . . .” Molly cries harder.

I grab the sides of her arms. “Fine. He’s probably fine.” I let go of her as she calms herself and look to Tessa. “Now, tell me what happened.”

“We were both out in the back garden picking vegetables for Elaine when we heard gunshots. A dozen or so men rushed the front lawn from the old house, so we ran into the woods. I didn’t even think to go get my . . .” Tessa drops her face into her hands, inhaling several deep breaths.

“Hey, you did the right thing. What were you guys gonna do? Scare them off with your garden shears and spades? They would have killed you or worse. But now, we have the element of surprise. We can fight back.”

“What is happening?” Molly’s voice croaks.

“Nate set us up. Sold this place out just so he could save his own ass.”

“Why?” Tessa and Molly say in unison.

“Burners took him captive after he ditched me in Chicago, and the only thing he could do to get them to let him go was offer this place up on a silver platter.”

“Ditched?” Tessa squints.

I pull my lips in and nod, shame coating my face.

“Fucking slimeball.” Tessa spits on the ground. “I knew I never liked that guy.”

“Where’s Nate now?” Molly asks, fear filling her eyes, like Nate’s some kind of boogeyman who’ll jump out at any moment.

“He’s either dead or dying.”

“Looks like we both killed our boyfriends,” Tessa says with the smallest smile, trying to find humor in the darkest of times. That’s when we need it most. It’s easy to laugh when you’re happy. I smile back and reach for her hand, squeezing it.

“So, what are we supposed to do?” Molly asks, her eyes darting all over the place.

“We’re going to kill these assholes. That’s what.” I stand tall, projecting confidence to my newly recruited sisters-in-arms.

“With what? Your throwing stars and a knife?” Tessa gestures to the only weapons currently on any of us.

A devilish grin creeps across my face. “No. Follow me.”

I lead the girls through the woods to a secret place my dad and I marked off. Certain grooves in the bark of trees are the only guideposts along the way. The spot is covered by a dead log and years’ worth of leaves and decaying vegetation. I start pulling everything off, and Molly and Tessa quickly join in. Underneath it all is a single piece of plywood. We bend down and lift it, flipping it over to reveal the top of a large green chest, previously the lodging for all the components of an over-the-shoulder rocket-propelled grenade launcher. I never got to see it, but I also never believed my dad when he told me the chest was just for storage and had arrived empty. I unlatch the lid and toss it open, revealing the contents.

“Holy shit!” Tessa clasps her hands over her mouth, realizing how much noise she made in her excitement. “Holy shit!” she repeats, but this time in a whisper.

Molly’s eyes widen. “That’s a lot of guns.”

“It sure is,” I say, looking like a proud parent showing off the report card of their favorite child. “Think we can go in and save some people now?”

“Hell yeah!” the girls say in unison.