Morning sunlight streamed through the grimy, unwashed windows. Unlike many of the businesses in Fall Creek and elsewhere, the Inn still boasted glass windowpanes.
The streets were empty. So was the bar. It was closed during the day but open in the evenings and frequently packed as people sought warmth and companionship.
Dave Farris had procured some of Dominique West’s moonshine, which he traded for the usual beans, bullets, and Band-Aids.
This morning, Dave had called an emergency town hall meeting to discuss the General’s demands—and to vote on whether to turn Liam in.
Reynoso and Bishop were attending, while Perez and Hayes monitored security and patrols. They couldn’t afford to gather everyone in a large group and leave the town unprotected.
Hannah sat across from him, Charlotte on her lap. Though Hannah was a member of the town council, she had excused herself to avoid accusations of bias. Instead, she waited for the results with Liam.
She tossed Ghost a strip of venison jerky, then glanced behind her to check on Milo. The little boy sat at a booth near the door, studiously leaning over a drawing pad, his oval face scrunched in concentration.
For two days, he’d been working on his newest version of Wolverine—featuring Liam’s face.
Hannah’s gaze slid past him to the glass front door. Her frown deepened.
“What?”
She turned back around. “They’re sure taking a long time.”
He forced a wry smile. “They’re voting on whether to shoot me or turn me in first so the General can do it himself.”
“Have a little faith in your fellow man.”
Liam gave a noncommittal grunt.
She rolled her eyes. “We need a distraction.”
He felt lost and unmoored. Despair crept in on him.
He always had backup plans to his backup plans. Contingencies and alternate exit routes mapped out in his head. Not this time.
To go along with the General’s demand meant his own slow and painful death. It might not protect the town, either.
No clear answer presented itself. For the first time, he couldn’t see several moves ahead.
He was blind.
He wasn’t sure why, but he’d decided to submit to the town council. If they turned him in, he would go. If they didn’t, he wouldn’t.
The temptation to save himself never even entered his head.
Hannah was right. Fall Creek had become his home. He didn’t want to abandon them.
And yet, he expected them to betray him. Their children’s lives were on the line. What other response was there?
Hannah could put everything on the line for the greater good, but most people couldn’t.
Most folks worried about putting bread on the table and keeping their loved ones breathing. That was it. He couldn’t blame them, either.
Still, the thought of the town he’d bled and fought for voting for his death twisted his guts. He dreaded the pronouncement he knew was coming.
“Hey.” Hannah studied him, her eyes a brilliant green in the sunlight filtering through the windows. “You okay? How’s your side?”
He winced and touched his dressings beneath his shirt. “I will be. Just need time.”
No amount of time would fix the crushed discs in his spine. Only surgery, and that option was long gone.
Evelyn had examined him this morning after his early training session with Quinn. Evelyn wasn’t happy with him, but then, she seldom was. If she had her way, he’d be bedridden for weeks.
The infection wasn’t spreading; that was the important thing. Pain was something he could live with.
Charlotte giggled. She bounced in Hannah’s lap, gnawing on a colorful teething toy as she cooed and gurgled at Liam.
Tense as he was, he couldn’t help but smile back at her. She wore an airplane onesie beneath a little jean jacket, her knit winter hat tilted over her big blue eyes.
From the floor, Ghost gave an exasperated chuff. Hannah tossed him another piece of venison jerky, which he scarfed down in a single mouthful, then turned his soulful eyes upon her once again, begging for more.
She sighed and tossed him another piece. “You big baby. One more. That’s all.”
“How’s Quinn?” Liam asked in a low voice, slanting his chin at Milo.
“She’s doing better.” Hannah chewed her lower lip. “She thought killing Sutter would fix something inside her. In the end, she realized it wouldn’t. She’s talking about it. That’s a good thing. Her and Milo, though…it’s like she’s afraid to be around him. I’m not sure what to do.”
Milo and Quinn still circled each other like ships passing in the night—both apprehensive, skittish, and hurting.
Liam had no suggestions. He wasn’t good at this stuff. Couldn’t figure out his own crap, let alone anyone else’s.
Hannah studied the yellowed table, frowning. “This world steals their innocence.”
“That’s what it takes to survive.”
“I don’t like it.”
“It’s the price everyone has to pay,” Liam said.
“I wish I knew it was worth it.”
He understood the darkness. He’d lost himself to it.
A man haunted by his past, by his years overseas, but also everything that had happened since the EMP—the things he’d had to do, the choices he’d made.
He closed his eyes and saw it again. The plummeting plane, the careening wreckage, the dead bodies everywhere.
His brother lying in the street, unmoving. Jessa on the bed, blood staining her legs, her chest, the sheets beneath her.
Save him, Liam. Save my baby…
He forced his eyes open. He had saved L.J. and Jessa’s parents. And Hannah.
It was Hannah who’d brought him back, who’d saved him in return.
Quinn would find her way, too. He would help her as best he could. If he was still around.
“In this world, there’s no choice,” Liam said. “You struggle through and make it to the other side, or you don’t.”
Hannah wiped drool from Charlotte’s chin and nodded. She understood it, too. She’d faced her own demons and come out the other side, stronger and tougher.
“You’re right. As always.”
He snorted. “I doubt that.”
“Since we’re still waiting, I could use your help.”