Sudden Independents

Scout checked the outside temperature on the digital display of the small Toyota pickup as he coasted to a stop in front of Ginger’s house. Three hours had slipped by and the temperature only rose two degrees, from thirty-four to thirty-six. The gas gauge hung near empty. Scout was glad he’d made it back to Independents without a long walk freezing his butt off. He would fill up at the auto depot where they kept their fuel reserves in a giant tanker truck, but first he wanted to spread a little joy.

Scout sprang from the pickup like a snake in a can, excited by what he had found for Ginger and the anticipation of her reception. A foot-pedal sewing machine in pristine condition rested in the truck bed, revealing the care and love of the previous owner. Scout also found enough needles, bobbins, thread and material to supply Ginger with her own private shop.

As he unloaded the truck’s contents to the porch, Samuel walked up and leaned against the tailgate.

“What’s up? Need any help?”

“Sure, grab that pile,” Scout said, holding bolts of fabric in shades of blue, red, and green.

Samuel hopped into the bed with the creaking complaint of worn shocks and lifted his own spectrum of colored materials. “Shouldn’t this go over to the sewing shop?”

“I figured I’d give the sewing stuff to the person doing all the sewing. Anyways, this is a gift for Ginger. They got plenty of this stuff at the shop.”

“Not you, too.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Samuel smiled like a fat Tomcat climbing out of a garbage can. “There’s been a lot of interest in Ginger, lately. I understand, of course. She’s the sweetest girl in town, not to mention her curvy assets.”

Scout shrugged. “I just wanted to do something nice for her since she’s helped Vanessa with little David. You don’t have to worry about me if you got something going on with her.”

Samuel laughed. “Can you keep a secret?”

“What kind?”

“The kind that gets my butt kicked if it goes any further than you and me.”

“Oh yeah, I’m good at keeping those kind.”

Samuel squinted hard at Scout, and then he lowered his voice. “Jimmy has this huge crush on Ginger, but he’s too shy to do anything about it. I’ve been trying to figure out a way to get the two together for a while now.”

Scout grinned. “Let me handle it. I’m a natural matchmaker. How do you think Vanessa and Mark finally hooked up?”

“I thought Mark asked her out,” Samuel said, hoisting a better grip on the material.

“Please. He was scared to death, and Vanessa was no better. She kept telling me how cute he was and how much she was in love with him ’til I thought I would puke my guts out.”

“What did you do?”

Scout knocked loudly on the door and quickly regained his grip on the pile. He winked at Samuel as Ginger opened the door to her yellow house, washing them in a floral fragrance of warm air.

“Hey, Ginger,” Scout said. “I found you a bunch of sewing stuff. And you’re never going to guess who has the biggest crush on you.”

Samuel’s pile slipped from his hands and hit the porch. He stumbled off backwards and fell on the ground where he silently fumed in Scout’s direction.

“Oh my goodness! Are you okay?” Ginger asked.

Samuel jumped up and brushed off his butt. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Look at all this stuff,” Ginger said, bending down to help Samuel gather his pile. “Why didn’t you take it over to the shop?”

“You guys have enough over there already. This way, you can sew whatever you want without Molly being up in your business.”

Scout walked in and laid his pile on a large table. Potted flowers in various states of bloom lined shelves that usually received direct sunlight from the high southern windows, except on cloudy days like today. The invigorating smell permeated the house, causing Scout to feel like a little kid again. His mom loved flowers, too, and Ginger’s house always cheered him up. Flames crackled sparks over the wood in the fireplace, making the place warm and cozy.

Samuel staggered into the house and laid his pile on the table with Ginger’s help. He smiled at her nervously.

“Help me bring in the rest, Samuel,” Scout said.

“Sure.” He looked back at Ginger. “Is Catherine around?”

“She’s still in bed. She likes to stay up late. Why?”

“Jimmy asked me to check. I’ll explain when I’m done helping Scout.” Samuel caught Scout’s attention with a deep frown and motioned his head towards the door. They walked outside, leaving Ginger with her new material.

“What the hell did you just do to me?” Samuel whispered harshly.

Scout shrugged. “I solved your problem.”

“It was a secret.”

“Not anymore.” Scout laughed at Samuel’s concern for his soon to be kicked butt.

They carted the rest of the sewing supplies inside, and Ginger’s eyes grew big and shiny when they carried in the sewing machine. Scout’s grin stretched a giant curl.

“Oh, Scout, I love it. Where did you find it?”

“Mark and I raided a farmhouse up north for baby furniture. All this stuff was there, too. Everything in the house was probably kept in great condition before…well, you know.”

Ginger nodded, her eyes softened, and her lips held a sad little line. “Thank you. I promise to take good care of it.”

Scout and Samuel gently set the sewing machine down. It was a combination table, machine and foot-pedal design built when people weren’t so reliant on electricity. The black metal machine and the dark-stained wood looked classic and elegant. Scout made another round trip to the porch for the matching bench. He lifted the red upholstered seat that concealed a collection of needles, thread and bobbins.

Ginger clapped her hands and gave Scout a big hug. “This is the nicest present ever!”

“Mark, Vanessa and I wanted to do something for you. Those clothes you made for little David were really special. So thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. I loved doing it.” Ginger wiped away a tear. She sat on the bench and caressed the surfaces of the machine, spinning the wheel and clicking switches as her foot pumped the wide pedal that propelled the needle up and down.

Smiling with a huge sense of accomplishment and pleasure, Scout sought Samuel’s approval, but was greeted by a frown. “What?”

“We have visitors in town,” Samuel said.

“Visitors?”

Samuel ignored Scout and inspected a roll of bright green material, unfolding its length on the table and rubbing his hand over to smooth it out. “Ginger, can you use this to make me a coat? Like a suit coat?”

“Man, if you want, she’ll fashion you some buckle-shoes so you can dress up like a Leprechaun. What’s this about visitors? How many are there?”

Samuel turned his attention to some royal blue fabric and placed it over the green. “Maybe you could line the inside with this and make it reversible. That would be awesome.”

Scout laid his hands on top of the fabric. “Yeah, you can go from shamrock to laughing-stock anytime you want. What’s up with these visitors?”

“What’s with all the noise?” Catherine shuffled around the corner, carrying a Teddy bear by its furry arm. She wore a pink nightshirt and the top of her head was a ruffled, blonde mass as she rubbed the last particles of sleep from her eyes. The flowers on the shelves seemed to follow her every move.

She walked over and squeezed Samuel around the waist and then offered another hug for Scout. Both boys patted her gently on the back when she made her rounds. Finally, she took Ginger’s hand and led the older kids to the two couches in the living room. Everyone took a seat.

“We have some visitors from a town in Iowa,” Samuel said. “Two guys and a girl; they drove in about an hour ago.”

“Are we sure there are just the three of them?” Scout asked. “They might have other people waiting outside of town.”

“You’re more paranoid than Jimmy.” Samuel folded his arms and his face scrunched in thought. “They seem honest enough, but who knows.”

“Where are they now?” Scout asked.

“Last I saw them they were at Brittany’s with Mark. Jimmy was headed there and told me to come here.”

“Why did he want you to come here?” Ginger asked.

“He was probably worried about you,” Catherine said to Ginger. “Remember what I told you?”

Ginger shook her head at the little girl, but Catherine pressed on. “I told Ginger that Jimmy likes her, but she doesn’t believe me.”

“Why do you think that?” Samuel blurted.

“Duh, it’s so obvious,” Catherine answered. “Every time he gets near her, his heartbeat speeds up. Between the two of them it’s like a cattle stampede. They both blush and sweat, and neither one of them can talk straight when they’re near the other. Ginger doesn’t believe me, but I think she’s just being silly. If you love someone, you have to tell them, right?”

“Catherine, that’s enough! Please,” Ginger said. Her face turned bright pink, matching the little girl’s nightshirt.

Scout winked at Samuel, who was at a loss for words. Scout then steered back to the visitors. “I’d better go get Hunter. We’ll search the area to make sure their story checks out.”

“All right, I’ve got to stay here until Jimmy shows up,” Samuel said.

Catherine giggled.

“What’s so funny?” Scout asked her.

“Ginger’s heartbeat just sped up,” Catherine said.

Ginger pinched up her face and squinted at her housemate. Scout figured anger probably wasn’t something she kept stocked in her emotional arsenal because she didn’t hold the expression for very long. Her features gelled back to normal as she switched her gaze to Scout.

“I almost forgot. You said someone has a crush on me. Who were you talking about?”

Scout jumped up to leave and pointed at Samuel. “Ask him. I’m sworn to secrecy.”





Nothing beats a hot bath, especially on a cold morning. At least Molly thought it was still morning. The absence of sunshine, hidden somewhere behind dark, gray clouds since she woke up and enjoyed her playtime with Hunter, made her judgment in time unreliable. She knew it was Saturday and her store was closed. Nothing else mattered.

Molly felt slippery and alive surrounded by bubbles. She was using soap from the town’s stockpile, but those supplies were dwindling and last week the town council talked about producing their own. Molly thought she would lose her lunch when they mentioned boiling animal fat. You would never catch her doing that job.

Hunter had found her some real bubble bath soap on one of his searches, but Jimmy stopped him from going out so far now that winter approached. Jimmy always messed with things. Molly didn’t understand what she ever saw in him. He was pathetic.

Steam covered the bathroom windows, which were rapidly icing over due to the temperature difference outside. The sink and the toilet sat in their spots as nothing more than decoration. Water no longer ran to the house so it took some effort to bring hot water to the tub. Luckily Molly now lived with someone who provided the effort.

Molly noticed the water turning chilly as the heat diminished. “Hunter, I need more hot water.”

The bed creaked and Hunter’s heavy feet pounded on the stairs. Her boyfriend was fulfilling her wishes. She laid back and closed her eyes. This was about as close to luxury as one could get in Independents.

Hunter was a willing servant, and why not? Molly had all the right tools for getting her way. He was very useful. Splashing her hands upon the soapy surface, she caught herself smiling at just how useful.

The door to the bathroom swung open with a hard bang against the towel rack. Hunter walked in with an orange bucket, sloshing water all over the floor.

“Watch your feet,” he said.

The hot water dumped into the end of the tub and Molly quickly paddled the mixture into perfection. “Ah, this is heaven. Are you sure you don’t want to join me?”

Hunter stood there, the bucket dangling from his hand. His eyes were droopy above his cute little frown. Molly didn’t know why he was so tired all the time. All he ever did was ride around on his motorcycle, like that could be strenuous. He never had to spend a day trying to keep Ginger busy.

“I’m positive.” He turned to leave.

“Shut the door, please.”

Hunter grabbed the doorknob and slammed the door shut. Molly blew off her boyfriend’s agitation as a little phase he’d been going through, probably relating to the cold weather. She swirled her hand through the heated water as the bed creaked again.

“Hunter, I’ll need one more refill in a few minutes, pretty please. Last time, I promise.”

She heard someone yell, but couldn’t make out the words. The voice sounded faraway and muffled. “Did you say something, Hunter?”

“No!”

The yelling was probably one of the brats playing outside. Molly sank her ears below the waterline, listening to the muted sounds of the house swish around her. She closed her eyes and floated in relaxation. After all of her years of suffering, life was finally improving.

Time passed and the temperature of the water dropped below her comfort level. “Hunter, I’m ready for another refill.”

Molly waited for the familiar sounds, but there was no creak from the bed or the tread of heavy feet on the stairs. “Hunter?”

She frowned at the silence behind the door. “Hunter! Where are you? I’m getting cold.”

She shivered as the bubbles evaporated with tiny pops. Her limbs actually shook. Now she was furious because her boyfriend was not showing up and her bath was being ruined.

“Hun - Ter!”

Molly rose from the tub with goose bumps sprouting over her body. She left the cold, dirty water in the tub for Hunter to empty and quickly dried off. She tugged her pink terrycloth robe down from its peg and wrapped her cold, dripping-wet hair in a dry towel before exiting the bathroom that was connected to their bedroom. Hunter was not in the bed and the door to the hallway was closed. He better not have taken off somewhere without telling her first.

She checked her complexion in the full-length mirror, marveling at her smooth skin and the clean pores on her face from the regular baths. Then she sorted through her clothes in the closet to find the perfect outfit.

When she first moved in she had Hunter relocate his things to the hall closet; a girl needed her clothes nearby for modesty. She even had him install a couple more shelves to fit all her stuff inside and keep it organized. He was so handy when he was around—unlike now when she really needed him to dry her hair.

She decided on her cute little v-neck sweater and her Gap jeans with the flared bottoms that Hunter had found. He liked when she wore them. She pulled on a clean pair of Hunter’s wool socks and went searching for her missing boyfriend.

She discovered him downstairs on the couch, snoring in front of a roaring fire. It must have been close to lunchtime and her lazy boyfriend was down here sleeping. Even she didn’t lie around that much.

Molly cleared her throat, but Hunter didn’t budge.

“Hunter, wake up!”

He stirred, driving his nose further into the cushions. He was awake. She knew he was. He was just ignoring her for some reason, trying to make her mad. It was a game he played that started about a month ago after she moved in. He’d pretend to be mad at her and then she would give him the sexy eyes and then it was game on. But she was not going to play that way today. She was really mad and a little fooling around wasn’t going to make her feel better this time.

Molly sat in the crook of Hunter’s legs and pounded him on the back. He twisted around with blurry, red eyes. Drool slid from his mouth, making him look stupid with his matted hair.

He’d actually been asleep, and now he appeared angry with her. But she’d been the one forced to rinse off in cold water. Why was he mad?

“What do you want now?” he asked, rolling back into the couch and closing his eyes.

“What do I want? I wanted some hot water. Now I want my boyfriend to pay attention to me. That’s what I want.”

“And I want some sleep. I figured after the tenth five-gallon bucket, you’d be good.”

“Well, I wasn’t, and I’m still not. What’s your problem?”

“I was asleep. If you’re done, I’d like to go back to sleep.”

“Why are you being such an a*shole? You don’t care how I feel, do you?”

“No, not right now,” he said without looking at her.

Molly searched for something to throw at him or beat him with and found the empty orange bucket in a corner. She slipped her feet in Hunter’s boots and grabbed the bucket on her way out. She froze her hand on the metal handle as she pumped the well, but gritted her teeth and filled the bucket with cold water. It was way too heavy and she poured half of it out before struggling to carry it back inside.

It took every bit of her strength, but Molly raised the bucket high and smiled. She poured the cold water over Hunter and dropped the empty bucket on his head. Molly jumped back a couple of steps when Hunter erupted.

He was completely awake now, and furious. He snatched the bucket from the floor and hurled it at her. She ducked as it sailed over her head and smashed into the wall.

Molly laughed at him; pathetic, sleepy, little Hunter. His clothes and hair were soaked and he looked ridiculous. He approached her with his fists held high. She backed away further. Stumbling into the bucket, she realized the enormity of his anger. Suddenly she was no longer thinking about her ruined bath, she was just scared.

He stopped inches from her with his rapid, hot breath in her face. She fell to the floor, but he lifted her up. His fingers wrapped tightly around her arms, making them numb with pain. “What kind of messed up…?”

Molly didn’t let him finish before she kissed him hard. He released her and tried to shove her away, but she reached out, grasping his back. He fought. She won. Hunter’s anger mixed with his passion as Molly regained control over him once more.

• • •

The fire burned down after a while. Without a word, Hunter stood and climbed upstairs, leaving Molly on the floor. She smiled to herself and started wrestling on her clothes, hungry from all the activity. A couple of minutes later, Hunter reappeared downstairs fully dressed in dry clothes, looking all cute and frumpy.

She smiled playfully at him. “That was fun.”

Hunter said nothing as he rotated the handle in the fireplace that held the cast iron pot they used for heating water. He threw two fresh logs in the fireplace, still saying nothing. He stirred up the coals and got the fire flaming again, laid his wet clothes out on the hearth, then removed the wet cushions from the couch and set them on the floor closer to the fire. He placed the orange bucket back in the corner. Only then did he acknowledge Molly.

“So what do we do now?” she asked, standing up. She expected he’d want her to help clean house. Forget that.

Hunter sighed. “Now you go home. I’m breaking up with you.”

Molly smiled. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’ve never been more serious. We’re done. I’ll pack your stuff and leave it at your door tonight.”

Something inside Molly cracked. She could hardly believe the pain as she struggled to remain standing on her shaky knees. “You…you can’t do this to me.”

“I just did,” Hunter said. “The front door is that way.”

Hot tears filled Molly’s eyes as she reached for him, but he retreated like she had transformed into some evil, contaminated thing. Her bottom lip trembled and her hands clenched into fists. This was so wrong. It was the worst thing in the world and she wished it would all just end so she could stop hurting. This couldn’t happen to her—not like this—not again. He was just a stupid kid! She would kill him first.

“You’re going to regret this,” she growled.

“Maybe.”

“Bastard!”

Molly spotted the bucket on her way out and flung it at Hunter’s head with all her might. He deflected it. He did not appear upset or angry that she’d thrown it. He just looked at her like she was nothing—nothing at all.

She had almost reached the front doorknob when Scout swung the door wide open from the opposite side, shocking her as a blast of cold air entered the house.

“Hey, how’s the love life, Molly?”

Molly rushed past him before he could see her cry. She ran all the way back in Hunter’s wool socks to her apartment above her sewing shop, with frozen tears against her face.





Scout leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “Okay, do you want to tell me what the hell just happened? And why are all the cushions off the couch? You didn’t just pull a wheelie on my couch, did you?”

Hunter rubbed the palms of his hands into his tired eyes. He swayed with exhaustion and tried to steady himself before his body crashed to the floor. Between no sleep, hauling buckets of water and the emotional ride of his breakup with Molly, he figured there was no chance this day would get any better.

“I just broke up with her.”

“What happened to my couch?” Scout moved forward and inspected the wet stains with a closer, critical eye. “I love my couch, you know.”

“Our sofa is fine. Molly dumped a bucket of water on me while I was sleeping.” Hunter ran a hand through his hair. It still felt damp. Scout glared at him.

“You didn’t hit her, did you?”

“It took everything I had not to.” Hunter slipped into his boots and tied the laces. The empty feeling in his stomach might be hunger, but that didn’t explain the hollow feeling in his chest. “Have you eaten lunch yet?”

“That’s why I came back to get you. I guess you haven’t heard about the visitors.”

Hunter looked up from his boots and squinted. “What visitors? Where are they?”

“Last I heard they were at Brittany’s. They say they drove here from Iowa. I think we need to take a ride around in case they got more people hiding out.”

“Let’s grab something to eat first and see what they look like. We can clue Jimmy in so he doesn’t freak out after we’re gone.”

“Very responsible of you.”

“Don’t start.”

Scout smiled. “What? Jimmy will appreciate your checking in before running off.”

“Why do you have to be like that?”

“It’s a gift. Grab your coat, its cold out.”

“Wonderful.” Hunter ran his arms through the heavy sleeves of his leather jacket and followed after Scout.

• • •

Down on Main Street, Brittany’s crackled like a madhouse on lockdown. The lunchtime crowd barely touched the food on their plates. They were preoccupied with sneaking peeks and chatting with each other about the new arrivals. From across the room, Hunter spotted the visitors sitting with his brother and began mentally labeling them.

The girl was the sparkle, used to distract anyone with half a penis, which meant every boy over the age of eleven in this crowd. The color of her hair reminded Hunter of autumn leaves. She wore her shirt one size too small; the tightness accentuated her natural appeal. Unfortunately, she was probably having a hard time distracting her current group because Mark was basically married, and Hunter didn’t know what his brother was—but Jimmy never got distracted.

The redheaded kid was the muscle and more than likely, dumb as a post. One long furry eyebrow stretched above his dull, pale eyes and across his pronounced forehead like Frankenstein. He sat with his arms bowed-out, trying to look—or feel—big and intimidating. Hunter smiled; one swift kick to the knee would leave “Muscles” rolling helplessly on the ground.

That left the third kid that should have stayed home and taken medicine and vast quantities of vitamin C and chicken noodle soup. The walking infection was obviously the brains. His hair was dark, and his eyes were like thunderclouds that appeared to take in everything at once, including Hunter and Scout as they approached the table through the bedlam.

Hunter noticed the brains catch the redheaded kid’s attention. Muscles actually tried to bow-out more by the time Hunter and Scout reached them.

Scout circled the table to Vanessa where she sat holding hands with Mark, and kissed his sister on the cheek. Hunter stopped beside Jimmy’s chair. Mark glanced up at him with a momentary flash of disgust in his eyes; then he shook his head and looked away.

“Guys,” Jimmy said. “This is my brother, Michael, and Vanessa’s brother, David.”

Hunter understood. Jimmy had the playbook open and nicknames were not being used to set up the offense.

“Chase, Patrick and Kessie just arrived from Iowa.”

Hunter smiled like a buffoon. “Really? Wow, Iowa. How far away is that?”

Chase returned a more sophisticated smile, one side of his mouth turning up higher than the other, as if to say, ‘I know I’m smarter than you.’

“It’s around five-hundred miles away. I didn’t check the odometer when we arrived, but our truck runs about twenty to the gallon. We filled up at a giant truck-stop before we turned south about two hours from here.”

Hunter scratched his head. “Yeah, we’ve gassed up there a couple times when we’ve gone out salvaging. I can’t believe the number of truckers that died sitting in their cabs.”

“I know. I bet it was tough for them to die on the road away from their families, all alone like that.”

Hunter didn’t understand why Chase’s smile grew wider, exposing perfect white teeth. The guy was certainly at the top of the weird and creepy list.

“What’re you guys doing this afternoon?” Jimmy asked.

Scout answered, “First we’re going to eat. Then we might clear that southern field you’ve been bugging us about. Or start on it, anyways.”

Chase fixed his dark gaze on them. “You guys are the cleanest farmers I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s ’cuz we haven’t been to work yet,” Scout said. “We get to sleep in on Saturdays.”

“You guys sleep in every day.” Jimmy waved a hand. “Calling them farmers is like calling an onion, spud. They may grow in the ground, but they don’t exactly taste the same.” He smiled at Vanessa. “Our brothers are a continual work in progress, huh?”

“I don’t know how you can use the word ‘work’ in the same sentence with them,” Vanessa replied.

“Hey!” Hunter said. “You’re being kind of rough on us in front of company, aren’t you?”

“How long are you planning to stay with us?” Scout asked.

Chase spread his hands out on the table. “We’re not sure yet. We’d like to make it back home before a snowstorm breaks out.”

“The way those clouds are moving in that could be anytime,” Hunter said. “We better eat something before we get to work,” he added, poking Jimmy’s shoulder.

“All right, but be careful in that southern field. That’s were Samuel found those rattlesnakes last week.”

“We will.” Hunter looked at Chase who was smiling at him still like he was a plate of food. “Nice meeting you guys. Maybe we’ll see you tonight at supper if you’re still here.”

“Have lots of fun in the field, spuds,” Chase said.

• • •

Back at their house, Hunter straddled his motorbike with a very full stomach. He seriously considered ramming his finger down his throat so he could puke.

“Chase seemed pretty sharp,” Scout said. “He didn’t believe our farmer story.”

Hunter shared the notion. “Why do you think that?”

“Well, we don’t dress like farmers with my camouflage and your leather jacket. He didn’t buy our act for a second.”

“I know, but what could we do—tell him we’re going to search for the rest of his gang?”

“I just don’t like it, that’s all. He called us spuds.”

About four hours of overcast daylight remained to search for anything out of the ordinary. Hunter zipped up his jacket, wondering if it would offer enough protection against the cold. He revved the bike’s throttle back until the motor idled without choking out. They headed north out of town since that’s the way Chase said he’d come.

They slowed after a couple miles and looked around. The gray sky melted into the flat gray landscape and there weren’t any strangers holding up signs that read, “Here we are.”

“Which way?” Scout asked over the sound of purring engines.

“I’ll take west. I doubt they came from Iowa.”

“We should ride together in case of trouble. Plus, one of us might miss something if we split up.”

“I don’t miss.”

“Whatever. We’ve got to play this smart. The town is depending on us.”

“All right, we both go west. Try not to slow me down.”

“Don’t flip your bike and we won’t need to worry, will we?”

Hunter showed Scout his middle finger and then clicked into first, second and third in rapid succession as he headed west. Scout stayed right on his back fender like they were tied together.

They traveled at a constant speed, not too fast to miss anything but quickly enough to eat up ground, going through every farmstead, woodland or canyon in a five-mile radius around Independents. They figured that if there were others hiding out, Chase would stick them close by for emergencies. Hunter and Scout knew the area’s best hiding spots. Going spot to spot was easy with the land’s relatively flat topography and by late afternoon they were circling to the southeast. The sun finally won a small victory and broke through the clouds bottom edge. It shined on their backs, relieving their chilled bodies from the whip of the open air.

The ride sapped away Hunter’s energy. He rolled to a stop and killed the engine. Scout pulled up next to him and did the same. They got off their motorbikes and Hunter’s legs shook like the world was tilting. He leaned against his bike to keep from sliding to his knees.

“Are you okay?”

Hunter didn’t need Scout’s concern right now. “I’m fine, just a little tired,” he said, wishing he’d come up with a better excuse. He guzzled water and felt sturdier.

“You think they told the truth?” Scout said. He poured water in his hands and washed the grime from his face. Hunter copied him and was refreshed by the cold splash.

“It’s starting to look that way.” Hunter scanned the area and took a calculation of the sun’s position. He stretched out his arms and popped his back and neck before shaking the stiffness out of his legs. “We got about another hour of daylight left. They didn’t come from the west and I was pretty sure they had. South isn’t looking too good, either.”

“Iowa it is then, huh? Well, we can make it to the east side of Independents before sunset and then head back into town. At least we’ll sleep better knowing they didn’t bring an army.”

Hunter reached into his coat sleeve and rubbed the small white scar on his arm. It was the only evidence left that a broken bone had popped through his skin.

“I forgot Catherine. What if they find out about her?”

Scout shook his head. “Your brother sent Samuel over to Ginger’s house when Chase and his crew showed up. They won’t find out about Catherine. Only the town council knows anything about her healing powers. No one’s saying a word. Jimmy will see to that.”

“He better; Catherine might be his only chance.”

“Vanessa’s thinking the same thing. We all are. Catherine’s our only shot if the plague is still hanging around out there waiting.”

They packed their stuff away and started up again. Scout led this time. Hunter trailed, and did his best to keep his mind alert. The break revived him enough for the few miles left ahead.

Fifty minutes later, they began riding down a hill toward a broken gulch just as the sun began a quick fade, forcing the boys to play catch-up with their long shadows. Neither of them expected trouble—until a pickup and three motorbikes roared out of the gulch. Clouds of dust billowed from their spinning tires as the newest batch of visitors circled Scout and Hunter in a tight noose and closed off any chance of escape.