A world that worked together to put up a façade to make little old ladies like her—and Rose—think bad things only happened to other people in faraway places; not to them. They were convinced by people far smarter than they, that they could pray the bad stuff away from themselves and their loved ones and live their quiet lives, all warm and cozy, cocooned in their safe homes.
The mainstream news didn’t report that really bad things actually happened every single day and probably somewhere very close to them. When they did report on something, they acted as though it wasn’t commonplace… that it was bizarre that it had actually happened at all.
The church helped with the façade by making them believe if they clutched their bibles, prayed hard and often, and behaved like good Christian, and followed the ten commandments… that they’d be protected from the really bad things that went on.
The prison systems had a hand in it, too. They were overcrowded, thus releasing convicted felons way too soon just to make room for new ones, that would be released too soon, too. They told the public these men were reformed.
Pfft.
She’d bit into all that narrative… hook, line and sinker. Elmer constantly told her she lived a life of delusion; that she needed to wake up to what was happening in the world all around them. He had warned her that she needed to always keep the doors locked, the windows sealed tight, and carry her gun with her.
She really never thought she’d ever need that gun.
All her life, or for as long as she could remember, she believed every man had good in him. That no one was truly a monster deep down. She’d believed that when people did really bad things, it was usually a direct reaction to a really bad thing that had happened to them first—and the news was just not reporting on that part.
In her mind, as long as she herself never did a really bad thing to someone else, they wouldn’t want to do a really bad thing to her.
I was so, so wrong.
The man standing in front of her was truly evil, and she, nor Elmer, had done anything to him to bring this hell upon them.
I lied to him.
That much was true.
But, if the man before her had any moral conscience at all, he’d realize she lied not to save herself, or to hurt him, but to save Olivia and Gabby, and maybe Emma, too, from his clutches.
Surely she would be forgiven for one tiny lie when it was purely for unselfish reasons.
Nope.
She’d already pled her case; she’d admitted it was Mei in the grave. She’d relived the horrible scene, trying not to cast any of the blame on him and the fools that rode with him when she’d told the story of how tortured the young woman had been; of how recklessly she’d taken her own life.
But Trunk had been merciless.
His plans on what would happen next were the stuff of nightmares.
A chill ran down her back and she gripped herself tighter, squeezing her eyes shut and wishing it was a dream she could wake up from—wake up beside Elmer and hug him tight while the old fool snorted and snored and farted beside her in their bed.
She swallowed down a sob and cleared her throat.
Trunk glanced suspiciously over his shoulder at her, hunkered down in the short, wooden Adirondack chair. “You’re not planning on running off, right? I don’t want to have to tie you up, Grandma.”
Edith grit her teeth. She didn’t want to even answer this demon. He didn’t deserve her words. But she didn’t want to be tied up either. “It would take me five minutes just to get out of this chair. I think you could catch me if I take a wild hair to pull a runner,” she answered sarcastically.
Trunk quickly whipped around to face her. “Whoa, Edith! Finding your spunk, are ya? That’s good. It’s easier to deal with pain when you’re angry.”
“You don’t have to do this. Not any of it. Please, just take anything you want and leave.”
Trunk clicked his teeth together. “Oh, but I do. And, I will. I am a man of my word, Edith.”
He looked around, putting eyes on his guys who were across the yard messing with the backpack-sized solar charger and the cell phone. He pointed to them. “You see Backfire and Smalls over there doing exactly what I told them to do?”
Edith jerked her head up in a tiny nod.
“They only do that because I’m a mean motherfucker,” he said with a cheesy smile.
He shrugged. “I’m also fair. If I threaten to do something, and then I don’t do it… they got no reason to believe what I say. I need them to always believe me. To believe in me. I gave you a chance, Edith. I gave you a warning. I told you exactly what I was going to do if you lied to me again. Yet, you did it anyway. You did what you had to do, so I gotta do what I gotta do. I am a man of my word,” he finished, with a big grin.
He turned from her, but not before giving her his now famous worn-out wink that turned her stomach. With ferocity, he stabbed the shovel deep into the dirt.
Edith squeezed her eyes shut tight and gave prayer one more try.
31
Tarra edged around the endcap of an aisle, taking a quick peek and then swiftly pulling back, to be sure it was clear.
Tucker had let her take point without argument. He was no idiot. He was a man who better handled a fight with his hands and feet, not guns, although it was getting more and more comfortable in his hand every minute. But Tarra was clearly more experienced than any man there.
The store held an ominous feel to it, and she wondered why no one at all was here. Surely other people just like them were out looking for food and supplies… why not here?
The group had left the long guns behind, choosing only to carry their pistols into the store. Slowly, they crept from aisle to aisle from the front-side, peeking down each one to be sure they were empty before going to the next. Just as they’d thought, the store had been ransacked. So far, there was nothing but empty shelves left behind. Definitely nothing in the baby aisle; or anywhere else so far…
But they still needed to make it to the back of the store and check there.
Suddenly, Tarra stopped, and listened.
“What is it?” Tucker whispered, just behind her.
“Shhh,” she warned him.
She held her fist in the air, telling them all to stop and be still.
Turning to Tucker, she whispered, “Do you hear that?”
Tucker’s eyes darted from left to right while he stood stock-still.
Finally, they all heard it.
Laughter.
She held up a fist and crept forward one more aisle.
The men stood still.
She eased up to the empty shelves and stole a quick look around the corner. She quietly gasped, pulling back quickly. She jerked her head to Tucker, and twirled one finger in the air, indicating for him and the other guys to back up; turn around and retreat.
Tucker ignored her instructions, and pushed past her. “What is it?” he asked.
The laughter stopped just as Tucker’s head poked around the aisle.
A shot rang out.
“Run!” Tarra yelled. She turned and ran past Frank and Mickey, leaving Tucker behind her, and headed for the doors.