Sanctuary (9 page)

"What's your name?" Dan asked the kid.

"Grant."

"Are you and your mother alone?"

"Yes. We've been trying to get somewhere safe for days, but everywhere we go, we keep running into those things. We lost our car a few days ago. It was stolen."

"How'd your mother break her leg?"

"We were hiding in a loft in the barn, and she fell." Grant shook his head sadly. "We'd been staying in the house, but a few of those things got inside, and it wasn't safe anymore. We've been hiding in the barn ever since. We had nowhere else to go."

"Are you from Settler's Creek?"

"No. We're from Haddam. It's a few towns over," he explained.

Meredith nodded. "Haddam's to the west of here."

The SUV trundled up the overgrown driveway. Dan's gaze wandered from the barn to the house, which was several hundred feet away. The front door hung open; the windows were smashed. Nothing moved.

About three hundred yards from the road, the driveway forked, leading to the barn on the right and the house on the left. Meredith veered for the barn.
 

The barn looked even more dilapidated than it had from the road. The door hung on rusty hinges, and grass sprung from cracks in the driveway, as if intent on swallowing the building whole. When they got within ten feet, Meredith stamped the brake, and Grant jumped out of the vehicle. Dan got out behind him.

"Everyone stay here," he instructed.

The passengers stared at him anxiously.
 

"Do you need help?" John asked.

Dan shook his head. "Not yet. Let me make sure it's safe first."

Dan turned and headed for the barn door, his gun drawn. Grant had already disappeared through the doors, as if the building had sucked him inside.

"Grant?" Dan called, slowing his pace.
 

He paused at the barn door. Even in the daylight, the interior was dark and shadowed, the windows covered with grime. He crept forward in an officer's stance.

"Grant?" he called again.
 

"Over here!" the boy answered.

Dan took another few steps, waiting for his eyes to adjust. After a few seconds, the shadows relinquished the hunched shape of the boy. He was leaning over a figure on the ground, sniffling.

"Step back," Dan called. "Don't worry, ma'am. We're here to help you!"

The woman moaned in response. Dan started toward her. The barn was fifty feet deep. He could make out the outlines of a tractor, several bales of hay, and a row of workbenches on the left-hand wall. True to Grant's word, there was a loft above where the woman was lying.
 

"Ma'am, it's going to be all right."

Dan holstered his pistol. He'd only taken another step when he saw a flash of metal.
 

Something wasn't right.
 

Dan dove for cover just as a bullet tore into the side of the barn. Grant skittered into the shadows. Dan darted behind the workbenches, looking for the entrance, just in time to see the barn door swing closed.
 

It was a trap.

Another bullet ricocheted above him. With the doors shuttered, the barn was immersed in darkness; it was impossible to discern what he was up against. Dan heard the scuff of shoes, then a woman's voice.

"Throw your weapon in the middle of the barn!"

Dan considered making a run for it, but the thought of a bullet in the back swayed him. He stayed in hiding.

"Better throw it, asshole! We have your friends outside!"

Cries of panic rose from outside the building. Dan's heart sank.
Dammit
. Whoever these people were, they'd gotten to his daughter. They'd gotten to Meredith, John, and Tim. He tossed his pistol into the darkness. The piece made a dull
thud
somewhere in front of him. He reached for one of the knives at his belt, but before he could get to it, a flashlight winked on, blinding him, and something hard struck him in the face. Dan keeled over, his vision blurring. He felt hands on his body, patting him down, removing his knives.
 

A gun pressed against his temple.

"You can come out now, Grant," the woman said.

Dan heard footsteps in the darkness. He struggled to get his bearings, but his head was swimming, and the gun kept him subdued. The flashlight played over his face.

"Did I do all right, Mom?" Grant asked, taking hold of the flashlight. "I said you broke your leg, just like you told me."

"You did great," the woman affirmed.

She tugged on Dan's arm, leading him with the gun.

"Get up," she demanded, her voice taking on a deeper tone. "If you try anything, my husband will shoot your friends."

Dan struggled to his feet, his head throbbing. He cursed himself for stopping the vehicle. They'd been lured in, trapped, and taken advantage of, and now they were at the mercy of the people who held them captive.

The woman led Dan toward the barn entrance. A few feet in front of him was the scuff of shoes, presumably from the boy.
 

"Why are you doing this?" Dan asked.

The woman drew a deep, nervous breath. Instead of answering, she pushed the barrel of the gun into the back of Dan's neck.
 

"Let us go," Dan tried. "We're not looking for trouble."

"Be quiet," the woman hissed through clenched teeth.

"We've done nothing to you."

"We're trying to stay alive, same as everyone else."

"What do you want?"

"Your food, your weapons, your supplies. Anything that can help us."

"Why don't we work together? Wouldn't that be easier?"

"We already have enough mouths to feed."

The woman shuffled him to the door. With each stride, Dan contemplated making a rash move, wondering if he could overtake her. But if he were dead, he'd be of no help to his daughter. No help to the group.
 

If he failed, he'd be shot and killed.

Dan swallowed and complied. He trudged toward the barn doors, his pulse pounding in his neck. When they'd reached the doors, he heard a doorknob turn, then the door swinging open.

Daylight washed over the barn. Grant slipped back into the shadows, but the woman kept Dan at gunpoint.

The doors of the SUV were open. Meredith, John, Quinn, and Tim were kneeling in the grass, their hands laced behind their heads. Their eyes were laden with fear. A man in a blue work shirt trained a gun on them.

"Are you okay?" Dan called out.

"We're fine!" Meredith said, her voice quivering.

The woman gave him a cautionary nudge, warning him not to try anything.
 

"Do what we say, and they'll stay that way," the woman said.
 

Dan turned his attention to the SUV. Ernie was in the driver's seat, barking hysterically.
 

"Go on! Git!" the man in the work shirt yelled at the dog.
 

He waved his gun, as if the animal might understand. After a few moments, Ernie leapt into the dirt and raced to Meredith.

"What do you have in here?" the man asked Dan, motioning to the SUV.

Dan didn't answer. He sized the man up. Aside from the blue work shirt, the man was wearing boots and jeans. He had a light beard and narrow, nervous eyes. Before the infection, Dan might've taken him for a contractor or a tradesman. Now he was simply another survivor competing for resources.

The man furrowed his brow. Then he walked to the back of the SUV and lifted the door, still pointing his gun at the people in the dirt. He hooted in excitement.

"Holy shit, Nancy! It's a goldmine! Weapons, food, clothing!" he pulled a few things out, holding them up so his wife could take a look. "Everything we need!"

Nancy snorted. "You hear that, Grant? We're set for a while! Good job!"

"Thanks, Mom," the boy said quietly from the barn.

"Don't do this," Dan tried.

The man lowered the lift gate. "Where you folks headed?"

Dan felt a swell of anger. The thought of losing the SUV—of losing their supplies, their food, and their safety—was almost too much to bear, and he struggled to contain his emotion.

"I asked you a question!" the man barked, anger rippling through his eyes. He walked over to Quinn and pressed the gun to the back of her head. Quinn whimpered.

"Okay, okay!" Dan said. "Leave her alone. I'll tell you what you want."

"I asked where you folks are headed."

"We're on the way to Abbotsville. We saw a helicopter about an hour ago; it looked like the military. We're trying to find help, just like you. We're good people trying to survive."

The man fell silent, processing the information. His eyes softened. "Do you really think the military's close?"

"I believe so. Why don't we find them together?" Dan offered.
 

The man stared at him for a moment. Before he could respond, the woman interrupted. "He's lying, Ted. Let's get in the vehicle and get out of here. Forget them."

The man lowered his gun. "But if he's telling the truth, Nance—"

"They can fend for themselves. Do you remember what happened to Chloe, Ted? Or have you already forgotten your own daughter?"

The woman behind Dan was shaking. He couldn't see her face, but he could sense her pain. He imagined they'd been betrayed before. Ted's face grew hard again, and he leveled the gun at Quinn.
 

"Get over with the others!" he shouted.
 

The woman pushed Dan over to his companions and instructed him to kneel in the dirt. Dan complied, folding his fingers behind his head.
 

"Come on, Grant!" the woman yelled into the barn. "Let's go!"

The woman walked toward the barn to collect her son. For the first time, Dan got a look at his female captor. Nancy's hair was long and dark, her face specked with dirt. Her clothes were torn. In another time and place, she might've been a friend of Julie's, someone who would've arranged play dates and carpools.
 

But not anymore.

Grant emerged from the barn at a half-run, joining his mother. As they walked to the SUV, they eyed the people on the ground. For the first time, Dan thought he saw a ripple of guilt on their faces, as if they'd just realized what they were doing. And then the look dissolved and they climbed into the SUV.

Ted kept his gun trained on the group. Dan watched him. For a second time, he envisioned lunging at the man, attempting to reclaim their possessions. But any move he made carried the danger of death, either for himself or his companions. He couldn't jeopardize their safety.

When Grant and Nancy were settled, the man walked over to the vehicle and jumped into the driver's side, still pointing his weapon.

"At least leave us some food and guns," Dan pleaded. "We have nothing."

The man hesitated.

"Ted! Let's go!" the woman screamed.

"But Nance—"

"Now!"

The man reached for the door. Before shutting it, he called out to Dan. "I'll leave a pistol at the end of the driveway. That's the best I can do." He closed the door and revved the engine, then careened away from the barn.

Dan sprung to his feet, watching the vehicle go. His body surged with anger. His companions stood beside him, shaking, terrified. He contemplated running after the vehicle, trying to catch up to it, but he knew it'd be useless.
 

He'd more likely be shot than accomplish anything.

When the SUV reached the road, Dan saw the woman roll down the window and toss a pistol into the dirt. Then the vehicle sped off, tires screeching, making off with the rest of their belongings.

Keller watched the family speed off in the SUV. He would've liked to kill them, but he'd known it would've been too risky. Even if he could've overtaken Ted, either Nancy or Grant might've shot him. The safest plan was to wait.

After all, he still had Dan, John, Quinn, and Meredith.
 

With the initial shock of the holdup over, Keller trudged alongside his companions as they made their way to the end of the driveway.

"This is my fault," Dan said to him. "We should've kept going. We shouldn't have stopped…"

"There was no way you could've known," Keller assured him.

"It's not your fault, Dan," Meredith agreed.

Dan shrugged, but his guilt was written on his face. Keller watched as Dan squeezed his daughter, taking her under his arm. Meredith and John clung to each other for support. Keller felt a ripple of jealousy. Some people didn't realize how lucky they had it.
 

But they would. Soon.

When they reached the end of the driveway, Dan scooped the pistol from the dirt. It was the one he'd been carrying prior to the holdup. Keller watched him check the clip, count the bullets, and tuck it into his holster.

"No spare ammunition," Dan lamented. "No water. No food. Nothing."

"I can't believe they took everything," Meredith said. She shook her head in anger. "How are we going to defend ourselves?"

"Those pieces of garbage," John fumed.

The group went silent.
 

"They didn't get everything," Keller piped up.
 

The group turned to look at him. He reached down and pulled up his right pant leg, revealing a sheathed knife. He slid it out and turned it in his hands. "My lucky knife," he explained. "I've been carrying it since Texas."

"At least it's something," Meredith said.

"It's not much, but it's better than nothing."

Dan nodded. "We'll have to stick together. A gun and a knife won't do us much good if we run into a horde of those things."

The group agreed. Having reached the road, they looked left and right. There was no sign of the SUV. Brown, golden-tipped fields stretched in all directions. The sun played off the road, creating yellow mirages on the asphalt.

"How far to Abbotsville, Meredith?" Dan asked.

"By car? No more than twenty minutes. On foot, it could take a while."

"We have a decision to make," Dan said. He gestured toward the horizon. "We can either continue to Abbotsville, take our chances, or we can head back to the farm."