The Lair

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Carter

I drove down the mountain into Elderton by myself. Generally no one went anywhere alone, but I guess if the responsibility of being in charge gave me any privileges at all, then the ability to break the rules was one of them.

If this trip down to San Angelo was going to work, I needed help. Supplies, if I could get them. Manpower would be even better. Yes, Armadale had pissed me off, but he obviously knew what he was doing.

Maybe I could talk him into helping us. Or maybe he’d shoot me on sight. No matter what happened, I didn’t want any witnesses. Even if he didn’t shoot me where I stood, I would probably have to beg him not to. And a good leader never lets his people see him grovel, right?

Thirty minutes after leaving Base Camp, I pulled into Elderton. I made one pass driving through town, heading right down Main Street before circling back to the outskirts of town where the Armadales lived. I saw only a few signs of life in town, but the people of Elderton hadn’t stayed alive by sending out welcoming committees every time someone came through town. This time, I wanted people to know I was coming. No sneaking, no surprises.

I parked on the street in front of their house and sat in the car a while before climbing out. Then I leaned against the car door, legs stretched out in front of me, just waiting. I stood there in the cold until the wind burned my cheeks and my fingers started to go numb, even though they were shoved into my pockets. Then I pulled my hands out and held them up as I walked to the front door, like a prisoner about to surrender. I rang the bell. Then I knocked. Then I waited some more.

Finally, I called out, “Come on, Armadale, I know you’re still there. I’m not here to steal from you or ask for any favors.” That wasn’t strictly true. “I just want to talk. I’m alone. I’m unarmed.” And I was out of options. Time to grovel. “Mr. Armadale, please let me in.”

Finally, I heard a door creak open somewhere around back. I purposely hadn’t headed into the backyard. The last thing I wanted was Mr. Trigger-Happy thinking I was poaching.

He took his time meandering around the side of the house. He stood on the porch, his shotgun propped carelessly over his shoulder. His posture was casual enough that I knew he wasn’t out here alone. Someone was watching his back.

Armadale gave me a smile that was more teeth than warmth. “I thought we settled this the other day. I’m not giving you any help, you’re not asking for any, and that way we don’t ever have to come to blows.”

Just like during our previous meeting, Armadale talked with a backwoods drawl that made him sound ignorant. I wasn’t fooled by it. No one who had survived the Ticks and kept their family alive was stupid. “That still stands,” I called out. “But I have new information.”

“Weren’t you here just two days ago?”

I tried not to laugh—not because it was funny, but because it was ironic. A few days ago, the day Lily had been shot, seemed like a lifetime ago now. Now everything was different.

Armadale eyed me for a minute, like he was trying to figure out if I was lying to him. Then he swung around and headed back down the porch, saying, “Well, then, you’d better come on in.”

I followed him around back, where he let me into the kitchen. I sat at the table, hands flat—and visible—on the scarred oak. He sat at the head of the table, his shotgun between us, his hand resting on the stock.

He just watched me. So I started talking. I told him about the Tick attack on Base Camp and about the dead we’d lost and about Ely and Zeke. But mostly I talked about the Farm in San Angelo and all the kids who were going to die.

Armadale didn’t interrupt, not even to ask questions, but as I spoke his boys came to sit at the table. By the time I finished, even Dawn was standing in the doorway, her head cocked to one side so her hair fell over the side of her face, making her expression hard to read.

She was interested; I’d sensed that the other day. She might be willing to help. To fight, even. Maybe Armadale wasn’t the only one I could convince.

When I finally finished explaining where I was going and what I needed help with, Armadale just sat there for a while, considering.

“That’s all interesting, but I don’t see that it has anything to do with me or my family.”

“Look, I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

Armadale nodded. “I can see that.”

“I’m taking twenty-five guys halfway across the country to try to rescue what could be a thousand kids. And between us, we’ve got eleven handguns, five shotguns, and six tranq rifles.” Armadale just kept staring at me, forcing me to ask outright. “If you have any weapons to spare, any ammunition you’ve stockpiled, we could damn sure use them.”

“I got the impression you’d been scavenging for a long time now.”

“We have. We’ve hit abandoned homes and stores all over the Midwest. We’ve been lucky when it came to finding food. We haven’t been lucky about finding weapons.” It baffled me, thinking that when people left their homes, they’d brought weapons with them but not food. “Plus, I can’t leave Base Camp unprotected. I have to leave at least half of what I have there.”

Actually, I’d planned to ask if he could help guard Base Camp, but now that seemed like pushing my luck.

He looked at me a long moment, then shook his head. “This trip you’re taking down to Texas, this isn’t my battle.”

“With all due respect, this is everyone’s battle.”

“Nope. Not mine. My only goal here is to protect my family, and I don’t see how outfitting your boys is in my family’s best interest.”

“Does it matter if your ammo kills Ticks here or in Texas? I’d think a dead Tick is a dead Tick, no matter where we kill it.”

Armadale tilted his head to the side and scratched at the stubble on his jaw with the back of his fingernails. “Now, here I thought guns didn’t kill Ticks anyway. Aren’t they unstoppable?”

“They are not unstoppable.” I aimed for logic and reason, because my gut told me a big show of emotion wasn’t going to cut it with Armadale. This was a man devoted to keeping his family safe at all costs. No matter how sympathetic he was to our plight, I wasn’t going to sway him unless I convinced him that an alliance with us would benefit him. And it would. We had knowledge he didn’t. And once Sebastian came back, we’d have him, too. “A stake through the heart will stop one. You put enough bullets in a Tick, it’ll go down just like any other animal. You can kill them. I’ve done it. You don’t believe me, then you come with me to Texas yourself and I’ll let you watch while I do it.”

For a second, Armadale seemed to be wavering. One of his sons, Darren I think, certainly was. Darren couldn’t have been more than fifteen, but he was tall, like his father. He had the twitchy nerves of someone who’d been under the thumb of a strong parent. He’d been drumming a silent rhythm on the table with his fingers and he couldn’t keep his eyes off his father’s shotgun.

Armadale’s lips twitched like he was amused. “Nice try, but I’m not buying it. Besides, the way I see it, if I hand guns and ammo over to you, I might as well be arming my enemy.”

“Your enemy? Is that really what you think, that humans are your enemy? If I was your enemy, would I have walked back here to talk to you? Would I have just told you how to kill the Ticks?”

“Maybe not. Not yet, anyway. You’ve been able to find food so far. Well, you’ve been lucky. But how long before you start running out? Especially if you’re talking about bringing another thousand people back? Let’s say I loan you guns and ammo. What’s to keep you from coming down here and stealing my food?”

“I don’t need your food. I need a way to protect my people,” I said.

“But what happens next winter, when you can’t feed all those kids? You think your intentions will mean anything if you’re all starving up there?”

“I think I’d rather help people now and find a way to feed everyone later. If I wanted to hurt your family, don’t you think I would have done it three days ago when I had the chance?”

Armadale’s smile tightened until his lips pulled back from his teeth. His gaze hardened, and I knew I’d made a mistake by pointing out his vulnerability in front of his kids.

“Well, son,” he said with a little sneer as he pushed back his chair and stood, “you’d best go now.”

But I couldn’t go. I couldn’t walk away. Not when I’d come all this way and spent all this time. Not when we needed that ammo so desperately.

I blew out a breath. Time to grovel again. “Mr. Armadale, I’m begging you.”

His gaze softened. “You may have the best intentions right now, but that’s not food in your belly five months from now.”

“I give you my word—”

“It’s not your word I’m worried about. It’s your ability to control all your people. I’m not trusting one boy, I’m trusting hundreds.” He shook his head.

I could feel the chance slipping away. Nothing I could say would convince him. Not because he didn’t believe it was the right thing to do, but because of who I was. Because I wasn’t old enough or man enough to keep control of the people I led. Not because the cause wasn’t good, but because I wasn’t good enough. I felt a fresh wave of anger wash over me.

This trip, the half day I’d wasted, it was all for nothing.

I headed for the door, but then turned and stalked back to the table. I planted my palms on the oak and leaned over so Armadale had to look right at me.

“This is bullshit, and there will come a day when you will regret this.”

“Son, I think you better—”

I didn’t give him a chance to finish, but kept talking over him. “Someday. Someday soon. Because until now, Utah has had it pretty easy. And I know you all think that’s because of the grace of God. You all think that it’s ordained. Maybe I’m the one who’s wrong, but I don’t think so. Because there were a hell of a lot of believers in Texas, and Texas fell. Texas went down fast and hard. And you know why?”

I leaned forward, inches from Armadale’s face. I gave him a solid beat to answer, but he didn’t. He didn’t blink. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t look away.

“Texas fell because of shit like this. It fell because more than half the damn state was armed and because none of them trusted each other. I watched it happen, city by city. I’ve been all over Texas since then. Places where so many people died so quickly there wasn’t even anyone around to bury the bodies. I’ve seen more dead bodies than I can even count. And, yeah, there are plenty of people who had their hearts ripped out by Ticks. But there were way more people who died of gunshot wounds. And it’s because of paranoid shit like this! Because as a race we can’t just put aside our fear and paranoia long enough to fucking help each other out.”

I didn’t wait to see Armadale’s reaction. It didn’t matter anymore. I’d blown it. I’d screwed up. Again.

Not only did I not get the guns we needed, but I’d probably pissed Armadale off enough that I’d blown any uneasy alliance we might have had in the future.

On the bright side, I was leading the Elites into a bloodbath and we probably wouldn’t be back. Maybe—maybe if we were extremely lucky—some of us would make it out. So maybe whoever took over after I left would have more luck with Armadale.

Yeah, that thought was real damn comforting.

I reached the car and yanked the keys out of my pocket. Then I slammed my hand down on the hood, cursing.

“He’s just being stubborn,” said a voice from behind me.

I spun around to see Darren standing maybe ten feet away from me.

The kid grinned. “He makes me want to hit things, too.”

I nodded. “Good to know.”

I didn’t feel any better; that anger still burned inside of me. Hotter even than normal, because of the memories my little rant had pulled up. Stuff I’d seen that I’d done everything in my power to forget. Stuff that stayed with you forever. Because as much as I tried to bury the memories deep, there were things you couldn’t un-see. There were things you couldn’t ever wipe completely from your mind.

I pulled open the driver’s-side door and slid into the car. I was jamming the key in the lock when the passenger door opened and Darren climbed in beside me.

“What the hell—”

“I’m coming with you. If you’ll have me. I know it’s not guns and ammo, but I can fight. And one more guy willing to fight is something, right?”

For a second, all I could do was stare at him in shock. “Absolutely not.”

Because if I hadn’t already pissed Armadale off, kidnapping his son would certainly do the trick.

“I’m strong and I’m fast. And I’m a damn good shot.”

“And your dad would come up my mountain and kick my ass from here to Sunday if I take you away from him.”

“I’m seventeen,” Darren said. “I can make my own decisions.”

Seventeen? Jesus when had I gotten so old that kids a year younger than I seemed like . . . well, kids?

I slanted him a look. “Seventeen? Really?”

Darren met my gaze steadily for a moment. Then his eyes wavered and he looked away. “Okay, sixteen, but I’ll be seventeen in four weeks.”

“Oh. Four weeks. That’ll be such comfort later today, when your father is beating the crap out of me.” Shaking my head, I just said, “Get out of the car and get your butt back in your house.”

Before I could say anything more, the passenger-side back door opened and Dawn slid in.

I spun around in the seat to look at her. “What the—”

“I’m coming, too.”

“No. Abso-effing-lutely not.”

Dawn grinned at me. “If Darren can come, then so can—”

“Darren can’t come. Neither of you are coming. Get the hell out of my car.”

Darren turned in his seat and held out his knuckles for a fist bump from his sister.

Dawn gave him the bump. She had several bags with her in addition to a bulky coat, and got situated while she talked. “If you’re worried that Dad won’t let us leave, you shouldn’t be. He has to let us go.”

“No, he doesn’t. I have a handgun in the glove box, your father has a freakin’ armory—I’m guessing here, so correct me if I’m wrong.” I raised my eyebrows, waiting, but neither of the kids said anything, so I went on. “And we’re on his turf. Just because I haven’t seen anyone else in town, that doesn’t mean there’s not a dozen guys with rifles pointed at me right now. So would you please get your asses out of my car?”

“Hear us out,” Dawn said.

“Yeah, give us a chance!”

Dawn gave Darren’s head a little slap. “Let me do the talking.”

Darren shrugged with a grin.

“He’s not going to stop us,” Dawn said. “If he was, he would have already.”

Okay, so she had a point. Armadale could have blown me to bits by now.

I twisted in my seat to look out the front window, half expecting to see Armadale standing there, gun in his hand. Since he wasn’t, I blew out a breath and strangled the steering wheel with my fists.

I looked back at Dawn. “I didn’t come here to recruit you. I came here to convince your father to help.”

Her mouth tilted up. “You did convince him. You think he’d have let us get this far if you hadn’t?” She shrugged. “He has the littles to take care of. He can’t come himself, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t make your point.”

“Jesus,” I muttered. I shot a look at Darren and Dawn. What the hell was I getting myself into?

As if she sensed I was swaying, Dawn leaned forward. “I’m assuming Darren told you what a good shot he is. He’s really the best in the whole family. And you already know I have most of my nurses’ training.”

Which, I had to admit, would be useful as hell.

I fumed for a couple of seconds, considering. The last thing I wanted was responsibility for two more people.

But the flip side was, I needed them. I needed every good fighter I could find, and I sure as hell needed someone with medical training that didn’t come out of a booklet from the American Heart Association. And if they had half the skills I thought they did, then I needed them.

“Okay,” I said finally, slipping the car into gear. “Here’s the deal. You can come with me to Base Camp. Dawn, we’ve got a guy who—”

“Justin, who does first aid. Lily told me about him.”

“You can help Justin. And Darren, you can . . . I don’t know. We’ll find something for you to do. But you’re not coming with me to Texas. And that’s final.”

Darren held his hand back for another fist bump from his sister. I could tell from their expressions that neither of them thought I was serious about keeping their asses in Utah.

And I was afraid they were right.