He’d called the council members to the town hall for an emergency meeting. Quinn wasn’t on the council, but Hannah had insisted she come after they’d dropped Milo and Charlotte off at the Brooks’ home.
Besides the council members at the table, a few dozen townspeople sat in the metal folding chairs, tired but alert. Quinn stood near the long rectangular table, far too antsy and amped up to sit still.
The old courthouse was lit with candles and lanterns. The high ceilings arced above them, invisible in the darkness.
Reynoso cleared his throat. “Liam called me. According to his informant, General Sinclair plans to attack Fall Creek at dawn.”
Bishop glanced at his watch. “That’s about five hours.”
Gasps sounded around the room. Stricken faces stared at him, mouths agape.
Quinn’s ribs constricted like a giant hand was squeezing tighter and tighter. The vaulted ceiling was too low, too close, pressing down on her. It was hard to breathe.
Darryl Wiggins blanched. “We’ll be overrun! They’re soldiers! They’ll slaughter us.”
“We’ve prepared for this,” Bishop said in his booming baritone, his voice even but clipped, as if struggling to maintain his temper. “We knew it was coming. Now that the hour is upon us, it’s time to act.”
Wide-eyed, Hannah glanced around the room. “Where is Liam?”
“I thought he was with you,” Dave said.
She shook her head.
All eyes turned to Reynoso.
“He said he had something important to do and signed off before I could ask questions. He hasn’t answered since. I’m sorry, but I don’t know.”
The group let that sink in. They stared at each other, anxious and baffled.
“That doesn’t make sense,” Principal King said. “Where would he go? What would he do? We need him here.”
Quinn cleared her throat. “He went after the General.”
Hannah whipped toward her. “What?”
Louder, she repeated it. “He’s going to kill the General.”
“No,” Hannah said, stricken. “No, no, no.”
Bishop looked sick. “Don’t tell me he left by himself.”
Quinn gave a tight nod. “I came out for a drink of water while he was getting ready. I couldn’t stop him. He said he didn’t want anyone else to die.”
“Doesn’t mean he gets to either,” Reynoso muttered.
“He said that if he cut off the head of the snake, the National Guard would think twice before attacking. That we’d have a chance.”
“We have to go after him,” Bishop said. “He goes in there alone, it’s suicide—”
Quinn swallowed. “He left an hour ago. You’re too late.”
Bishop’s face turned ashen. He shook his head, aghast.
They were all thinking the same thing. Liam was a lone man entering the lion’s den. He had little chance of returning.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Principal King asked.
Quinn touched the thick, itchy scab on her lip. She wasn’t ashamed of it. It was a battle scar. A sign to everyone that she’d survived that fight and would survive the next one, too.
She straightened her shoulders and met Hannah’s gaze. “He asked me not to. He said you would try to stop him, that even though it was the right move, you wouldn’t want him to do it.”
“Damn straight we wouldn’t,” Reynoso said.
Emotions flickered across Hannah’s features in rapid succession—fear, worry, trepidation, doubt. Then, something like acceptance.
Hannah took a steadying breath. “When it comes to tactics and strategy, Liam is smarter than all of us put together. We have to trust his decision, even if it…even if…”
Her chin trembled. She wasn’t stupid. She knew what this meant. That Liam was sacrificing himself. That they would never see him again.
At this moment, the General might be torturing the man they owed their lives to. The man Hannah loved.
Quinn blinked back a surge of hot tears. Hell, they all loved Liam. Quinn did. He was freaking Wolverine. Not two weeks ago, he’d risked his hide for a stupid teenager without a second thought.
She’d just lost Gran. The prospect of losing Liam was too terrible to contemplate.
The cavernous room thrummed with strained silence. No one spoke.
Bishop reached across the table and enveloped Hannah’s crooked fingers in his huge ones. “Hannah—”
The uncertainty in her face vanished, her mouth pressing into a thin line. “Whatever happens, we’ll face it. But now, we have to be as strong as he is. We have to be smarter and braver than we’ve ever been. If we fail, everyone we love dies.”
Quinn grimaced. “No pressure or anything.”
“Hannah is right,” Bishop said. “We pray Liam accomplishes what he set out to do. And in the meantime, we do what we’ve been trained for.”
Quinn stepped forward. “If this is Fall Creek’s last stand, let it never be said we didn’t go down without one freaking hell of a fight.”
Jonas, who’d been sitting next to his mother, leapt to his feet. “I’m in.”
“Can’t let the young’uns outdo us.” Bishop pushed back his chair, stood, and looked each person in the eye, radiating a quiet, steely confidence. “God be with us.”
Perez shot to her feet. “Let’s go kill some bad guys.”
Hannah stood next. Around the room, everyone followed suit. Dave and Principal King. Reynoso, Perez, and Bishop. Corinne Marshall. Even Wiggins.
Everyone looked scared, gaunt, and grim. But they also looked stronger, tougher.
“What now?” Wiggins asked.
“We sound the church bell alarm,” Reynoso said. “We’re calling everyone in. All hands on deck. Everyone knows what to do and where to go. The noncombatants will head to the bomb shelters again as our last-ditch fallback position. Every able-bodied citizen is to report to their duty stations. We have to protect the north blockade at all costs. Bishop takes south. I take north—”
Reynoso’s radio beeped. Robert Vinson’s voice came through. “This is Echo Four reporting from the Snow Road blockade. We’ve got visitors.”
55
Quinn
Day One Hundred and Fifteen
Quinn’s adrenaline spiked. She drew her Beretta and held it in the low ready position. Everyone went for their weapons, drawing shotguns and pistols, rifles and revolvers.