“How so.”
“Well, he always had a sense that things could go bad, so he planned it out so that if they did, he’d be able to shelter the weapons in our bunker. It wasn’t easy. But the thought of evil, horrible people getting their hands on him made him risk everything to make sure he got them here. A court-martial, a prison term—even his…” She tried to hold back tears but couldn’t stop them in time. “I’m sorry.”
Hatfield and his wife smothered her in a gentle hug.
She pulled away and said, “That’s why he didn’t make it back, you know.”
Meeting her eyes without joining her tears was tough. It seemed like something his father would do. “Jade, your husband was an honorable man. Makes me proud.”
She nodded and mouthed the words “thank you,” launching into tears a second time. She laughed a little. “But you didn’t know him.”
A smile found his face as he thought of his father. “Actually, in a way, I did.”
SAYING goodbye to his family wasn’t easy. He didn’t know exactly how long it would take before he’d see each other again. It started with a long hug as both kids didn’t want to let go.
“Promise we’ll see you again, Dad?” Tami asked.
“Of course, you will, honey. You all will. All I need from you is—” He looked down at the medicine bottle in his hand, his attention dragged away. He completed the next sentence with his eyes locked on the fine print.
Jess seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. “Still thinking about using that as a weapon, aren’t you?”
“Maybe. Just reading the side effects. Causes drowsiness, dizziness.”
“I’ve told you already why it’s not a good idea.”
“Yes, I know. It’s scarce. We need it for emergencies.”
“Imagine I’d done this,” she said, lifting his amputated finger before his eyes. “without any anesthetic.”
“Ouch.”
“Very much so. And next time, it might be on somebody’s throat or chest. That’d be even worse.”
“Okay,” she sighed. “I’ll make sure there’s plenty of this stuff for future needs.”
“You promise?”
He lifted two fingers. “Scouts’ honor. I’ll stay alive, and I’ll make sure we have plenty of anesthetics.”
He surrendered another hug, then took a long look at his family before turning toward the door.
Jade stopped him. “Actually, do you think you can take a look at the escape hatch before you take off?”
“Sure!” He headed over and took a look, fumbling with the latch that had been pulled off its hinges. “You just need to get this back in place here,” he said, angling his arm so he could work.
But his hands didn’t cooperate with the plan. He was too clumsy with his left hand, and his right was hampered both by the missing finger and numbness that lingered after taking the anesthetic. After a frustrated sigh, Hatfield turned and found disappointed eyes. “Sorry, guys. Unless you want me to wait until the numbness goes away, I don’t think I can—”
“It’s fine,” Jade said. “We’ve made it this long without it functioning, so I guess we’ll be fine.”
“Yes, you will,” he said. “As long as you don’t open that door for anybody who doesn’t give you our funky little knock. I’ll make sure I teach it to everybody else in case something happens to me and I get—” He didn’t want to say the word. But he didn’t have to. He knew everybody was thinking it anyway. They were now in a world where every day was alive with the threat of more death.
After another quick hug, he was gone, careful not to look back.
30
Slipping back into the compound without getting spotted was a great deal easier for Hatfield than it had been the first time. As expected, the guard was not especially alert—not quite asleep, but drowsy enough to not notice someone climb the tree and hop the fence near the back door.
But getting back into his family’s bedroom would be a little trickier. He crept into the room and, seconds after entering, found a pistol aimed at his temple.
A familiar voice followed. “Okay, where are they?”
He turned, spotted Nathan there, his face stern and heavy. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you helped them leave, didn’t you? They escaped.”
Hatfield said nothing, the gun pressed hard against his skull, and he thought about confessing.
“There are only two possible answers to the question. Either you helped them, or you didn’t. Which is it?”
Still no answer.
Nathan said, “Damn shame. You already knew you were on strike three with us, and you pull a stunt like this? You must think we’re stupid or something. Now just answer the question, and we can take you out back to take care of this. Did you or didn’t you help them?”
From the hallway came another voice, this one also young and also familiar. “He didn’t.” This was the bearded gangbanger. He stepped forward, face heavy with sincerity.
Nathan’s pistol swung to the gangbanger’s face. Once locked on the new target, he spoke again, his voice harsh and angry. “Please don’t tell me you let them go.”
“Not exactly. A smirk came over his face, like a teenager confessing a misdeed. “Well… you know how long it’s been. I started seeing the lady, and well… let’s just say certain urges came over me.”
“And?”
“Well… and things didn’t go as well as planned. The woman wasn’t as cooperative as I hoped she would be. We had a little misunderstanding, and…”
“And what? You let her escape?”
“Not exactly. I got a little upset and made a few threats. I was going to kill her kids if she didn’t give me what I wanted, then I was going to kill her.”
“Then what?”
He dropped his head in shame, spoke in a low voice. “Well, I just got back inside. I had to do some digging.”
“You killed all of them?”
He nodded.
Nathan scanned both faces before him, eyes narrow as if not sure who or what to believe. After a tense few seconds, he slipped his gun back into the holster. “From now on, no killings happen without my authorization. Do you understand that?”
The bearded gangbanger nodded.
“And as for you,” Nathan’s finger found Hatfield’s face. “If I find out you’re playing games with me, you’re finished.” He stormed away.
The bearded gangbanger waited for his boss to leave before he turned to the man he’d just lied to protect.
Hatfield studied the man’s face. “That was awfully nice of you. Why’d you do it?”
The bearded gangbanger laughed. “You don’t think it’s possible that I could have developed a conscience in the last few hours?”
“No, I don’t.”
“You’re right. That act of kindness came with a price tag attached.”
“Look, I don’t have any money. And even if I did, what good would it do you?”
“Didn’t say anything about money. Here’s the thing: I know you know something about that bunker.”
“Bunker?”
“Don’t play dumb, Hatfield. The bunker that had all those weapons. You know something about it, and that means you have to know something about the weapons in it.”
“And if I do?”
He gave his head a hard shake. “No, no. There is no ‘if.’ You know something about those weapons, and that means you know how I can get my hands on them.”
“Don’t you guys have enough weapons already?”
“I want them all.”
“Why?”
“You let me worry about that. I just want access to them, and if you don’t want me to spill the truth about your family, you’ll tell me what I need to hear.”
But Hatfield was worried about something else. The gangbanger’s choice of words. “I’m noticing you’re saying ‘I’ and ‘me’ a lot. Not ‘us’ and ‘we.’”