Conclusion: Fuck it.
Josh pulled Matt’s gun out of his waistband and laid it down on the dirt and stood up and began walking across the street. He did it quickly, trying to think as little as possible, because he knew if he thought about it too much, he would change his mind.
Have to risk it. Have to risk everything…
One of the kids saw him first. She said something and pointed, and the men turned. The first two men unslung their rifles. The two women were staring. The big man with the shotgun seemed to be making sure he had shells in his weapon.
This is a mistake. I’m going to die.
Oh God, I’m going to die.
“Don’t shoot!” he shouted across the street, raising his hands as far above his head as they would go. “I’m not armed! Don’t shoot!”
They watched him for a moment, then one of the men jogged forward. “Stop!” the man shouted.
Josh stopped in his tracks and didn’t move. He was in the middle of the street, and instinctively glanced left and right before realizing, Oh, right, no traffic.
The man moving toward Josh looked young and had slightly brown-ish blond hair. He moved smoothly toward Josh, then circled him, the point of his rifle aimed low. Not threatening, but ready.
Please, don’t shoot me, he thought, but was too afraid to say the words out loud.
The man continued circling him, looking him over, probably checking him for weapons. “What’s your name, kid?”
“Josh.”
“What are you doing here, Josh? You alone?”
“Yes,” he lied, his heart racing. “Josh. My name’s Josh. Please don’t shoot me.”
“You already said that,” the man said, looking slightly amused.
“I did?”
“Yep.”
“Oh. Please don’t shoot me.”
“Only if you tell me your name.”
“But I—” Josh realized the guy was messing with him and stopped. “Oh.”
The man chuckled, then motioned for Josh to move forward. Josh did, but it took a few seconds before his feet would start behaving normally enough that he didn’t almost fall on his face with every step.
Josh heard the man moving behind him, but he decided to concentrate on the group waiting for them instead. The other man with the rifle was scanning the roads and the area, while the women had gathered up the kids and put them into one of the trucks. The girls peered curiously out at him through one of the few windows that was still intact.
“Hey, kid,” the man behind him said.
“Yes?” Josh said.
Please don’t shoot me.
“You know anything about computers?” the man asked.
“What?”
“Computers,” the man said, as if that was the most normal topic in the world to be talking about at the moment. “You know anything about computers? You look like you do.”
I do?
“A little,” he said.
“You know how to fix them?”
“A little,” he said again. This conversation was going in a very odd direction. “Why?”
“Just wondering. You can put your hands down now.”
“Oh, thanks.”
“No sweat. Hey, you wanna hear a joke?”
“Um, okay.”
Just as long as you don’t shoot me.
“So these two subway conductors are out to lunch one day, and one of them says to the other, ‘You know what, I think my sex life is getting too boring.’ The other guy asks, ‘Why do you say that?’ The first train conductor groans, then says, ‘Well, it’s always the same thing. In and out, in and out, and I never get anywhere!’”
Josh didn’t know whether to laugh, or cry, or beg the guy not to shoot him again.
“You’re all right, kid,” the guy said.
Oh, thank you, God.
CHAPTER 10
LARA
The kid said his name was Josh, and they put two and two together and deduced he was one of the two teenagers that escaped the man named Folger’s captivity last night. Which meant he knew where Sandra was, a fact that instantly got Blaine to move toward him, so fast that the poor kid stumbled back and almost fell down in surprise — or fear.
Will quickly grabbed Josh by the shirt collar and kept him upright. “Relax. This is Blaine. He’s been looking for Sandra since yesterday. Where is she?”
“You know Sandra?” Josh asked, looking at Blaine.
“Yes,” Blaine said, and Lara could almost see him restraining himself from shouting questions at the kid. “Where is she? Is she okay?”
“She’s fine,” Josh said, though looking at him, Lara thought he knew something else that he wasn’t saying. It was probably about Sandra, after she had been captured by Folger and his men yesterday, while Blaine lay bleeding and dying in the road.
She thought about the Sundays…
No. Don’t think about them.
It had been months since she had remembered the Sundays ever existed. She had scrubbed them so thoroughly from her mind that it took a lot to trigger her memory of those days with them. But now, listening to Josh and Blaine, and thinking about what Sandra had gone through since yesterday, all those tainted memories came rushing back.
“I’m going inside to see if Carly needs help,” she said, and hurried back into the courthouse before Will could catch her eyes.
Carly was near the cells in the back, pulling blankets and bedrolls out of the moving crates they had transferred inside earlier. Despite the attempted ambush by Folger and his men, they had decided Lancing was too big a city to just abandon. Which meant they were going to need a place to stay, and the courthouse was as good a place as any unless they found a better location. They could easily barricade the two front windows and door, as well as the two extra doors in the back. If push came to shove, there were the cells in the back. Lara didn’t look forward to being literally locked inside those, but she reminded herself that she had been in worse situations.
Lara walked over and helped Carly unpack their belongings — just the essentials they would need to sleep through the night. It wouldn’t be a very comfortable temporary base, but it would do for now.
Until we get to Song Island.
God, please, let it be real…
“Was that one of the kids who escaped last night?” Carly asked.
“Yeah,” Lara said. “And Sandra’s alive, too.”
“Wow, that’s good news. I bet Blaine was happy to hear that.”
“He was.”
The girls raced around the front reception area and wound their way through the courthouse. They seemed to have boundless energy, and Lara could only look after them and smile. For a while, she hadn’t been sure if Elise could adapt. But she had. They all had.
Adapt or perish.
“So what’s this make, three more people?” Carly asked.
“If they decide to come with us.”
“Of course they will. After what they went through? Trust me, they’ll come with us. Until last year, I was a teenager, too. I still know how teenagers think.”
“God, I forget how young you are sometimes.”
“Good, because I feel fifty years old,” Carly said, and made a face.
Lara laughed. She really did sometimes forget just how young Carly was. Heck, she sometimes forgot how young most of them were. She wouldn’t be twenty-six for another month, but she already felt so much older than that.
Twenty-six going on forty…