When the trash bag was heavy, they tied the top and lifted it into the wheelbarrow, then started work on the second one.
The muscles and tendons in Hannah’s bad hand ached. It took an incredible effort to wrap her warped fingers around the shovel handle. Her hand would never be normal, but with blood, sweat, and tears, she could force the broken parts to bend to her will.
They filled three more bags, stacked them in the wheelbarrow, and hauled them out to the four-wheeler. They loaded both the rack and the trailer on the apple-red 1988 Honda Fourtrax 300. The 4x4 had belonged to Ray Shultz, but they’d redeemed it for good.
Once it was full, they’d bring it back to Molly’s to unload and return for round two.
Liam half-turned away from her, his eyes on the salt. “I should do it. I should turn myself in.”
Hannah stilled. She stared at his back. “No.”
“The town should turn me in.”
“They won’t turn you in.”
“They should.”
“Maybe so, but they won’t.”
He said nothing.
“Liam.”
He turned to face her, his expression bleak. “You have an incredible amount of faith in people.”
“There’s bad in the world. But there’s some good, too. It’s the good I believe in.”
The shadows from the kerosene lanterns wavered across the lines of his rugged face. Even in the low light, he looked exhausted. Shadows beneath his eyes. Tension and worry in every crease of his face.
“They have faith in you, too.”
His broad shoulders slumped, almost as if his body were caving in on itself. “The General has five hundred soldiers. I’m just one man. I’m not some kind of superhero.”
“You’re one of us, now. They won’t give you up, not even to save themselves.”
His face crumpled. Something despondent in his eyes. His stoic toughness faltered.
“I can’t save this town, Hannah.” His voice cracked. “I can’t.”
He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. What an incredible burden to bear without breaking.
Her chest constricted, her heart swelling with compassion.
“We’re not asking you to,” she whispered. “Not alone. Not by yourself.”
His Adam’s apple hitched. “If I turn myself in—”
“Even if you turned yourself in, there’s no guarantee he won’t raze the town as soon as he kills you. We were all complicit in overthrowing Rosamond. And besides, there’s Winter Haven. I’m sure he’s already eyeing that prize.”
“I know,” Liam said. “I know.”
The silence stretched between them. What could they do? The question hung in the air, unspoken.
Then Liam said, “We could leave.”
15
Hannah
Day One Hundred and Five
Hannah stared at Liam, aghast. “What?”
Liam leaned his shovel against the wheelbarrow and spread his hands, palms out as if surrendering himself to the inevitable. “We’re overwhelmed. You know that.”
Her breath fled from her lungs. The room abruptly too small, the cave walls closing in.
She knew it. Of course she did.
Still, to hear him say it aloud somehow made it more real.
He took a step toward her. His face pained, the features she loved so much contorted in anguish. “We cannot win against these people. We’re building mud huts to stand against a tsunami. Like bows and arrows against tanks. What we can do—what we’ve done—it’s not enough. It won’t be enough.”
“What are you saying?”
He closed his eyes for a moment, opened them. A great weariness in his bearing, something like defeat in his face. “I have two trucks stashed with a full tank of diesel and two jerrycans of biofuel, plus three days of food and water.”
She blinked, surprised. “You…do?”
“I had supplies pre-positioned within two days of arriving at Fall Creek. I’ve added as I’m able.” His expression hardened. “I have a way out prepped. Should all else fail, I can get you and the children out.”
She stared at him, at a loss for words.
“We could escape the General’s net and head north, bypass Grand Rapids, Kalamazoo, any cities, stick to the lesser roads and make it to the U.P.”
“The U.P.,” she echoed in growing dismay.
“Your brother is right. There are far fewer people. Plenty of land for good hunting and gardening, more lakes for fishing and fresh water.”
Her heart beat faster. Her mouth went dry. “You want to leave.”
“I don’t want to.” He shook his head. His hands opened and closed at his sides, something lost and vulnerable in his gaze. “I fear we need to. You and me, Travis and Evelyn, Milo, the babies. And Ghost.”
He paused as if steeling himself, testing his own resolve. “The journey will be dangerous, but we can take the back roads. We’ll have a couple of shooters and plenty of weapons and ammo.
“We stop at my cabin outside of Traverse City and stock up on supplies. It’s out of the way and likely undiscovered. We can bring another six months of food, seeds, tools, and other essentials with us to Oliver’s place. We could do it, Hannah. It would work.”
The vision shimmered behind her eyes. The reunion with her brother. Her parents’ house in the woods on thirty acres, surrounded by forest and lakes. The barns and outhouses, goats and chickens, and fencing for horses and cows. The flourishing gardens behind the chicken coop, a freshwater creek running the length of the property.
Her parents’ house was situated on the top of a hill at the end of a ten-mile dirt road, isolated—and defensible.
They could be safe. Her children could be safe.
They could make a life there, her and Liam. A life together.
Her eyes burned at the promise of something she so desperately wanted.
“And Quinn and Molly?”
Liam’s features tightened. He dropped his gaze, unable to hide the naked pain in his eyes—or the shame. “There’s no room. We don’t have enough vehicles or fuel.”
“They’re family.”
His mouth thinned into a bloodless line.
“And Bishop?”
He shook his head wordlessly.