T Connor: Bitter Cold Apocalypse

But the fact that they thought they could use her as some sort of leverage point…

The innuendos from last night had been creepy, but this was much worse. If I was right, and if I was jumping to the correct conclusions, it meant that these guys were trouble. Big trouble. Big enough that it sounded like they’d been kicked out of Ellis Woods.

Was it possible we’d managed to fall in with the group of misfits who had actually been run out of town last year? How?

I threw my memory back, trying desperately to remember what that group had done to get themselves kicked out. It had been before my time in Ellis Woods, so I hadn’t been involved, but I thought it was something to do with them stockpiling things that the mayor had thought the town itself needed.

I frowned, my heart racing. Had it been… weapons? I didn’t want to think so, but my instincts were screaming at me that it was. That they’d been collecting guns.

And using them in ways that broke the law.

“Shit,” I breathed out. I’d already suspected that our host was trouble. I would never have guessed that he was someone who had done something dangerous enough that the mayor had kicked him out of town. And that he’d still be holding a grudge.

And that I would deliver that very mayor’s niece right into his hands.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

I couldn’t see Angie’s face, but I could see her hands laying stiffly on the blanket. She was awake. And she must have heard everything those men had just said. I hoped to God she played possum and pretended to be sleeping—at least until I could figure something out.

This was bad. Really, really bad. Angie had a broken leg—and some very large flesh wounds—and desperately needed a splint before I tried to move her. I didn’t think we’d be able to get away from these nut jobs without making her at least somewhat mobile first, though even with a splint she was going to be in a lot of pain if we moved. Even better, we couldn’t count on anything having any power. Batteries might still work, but if I knew what an EMP could do—if that’s what this was—then anything that had electrical components was going to be completely fried. Which would include any vehicle our host might have sitting around.

Then I thought back to what he’d said—he had a working truck.

Perhaps his truck was old enough that it didn’t have a computer in it. If it was from the 70s or earlier, and Angie and I could gain access to it, then we might just be okay.

My next thought, though, got rid of the slight flare of hope I had at that conclusion. If what I was hearing was correct, then it meant that these guys wanted Angie. In fact, they had a very specific use for her. And they would need her alive if they were going to pull it off.

But they didn’t need me. I was just going to be in the way—and that meant that they were probably going to try to get rid of me. With their sights on Angie, they would quickly decide to eliminate anyone standing in their way. The bear-man had probably already decided that. Hell, he’d probably settled on it last night.

I would have to move fast when they came for me. Get out of the way, get Angie, and get the hell out of there. None of it was going to be easy. But it would all start with acting completely normal right now.

I had never been a good actor. I preferred to tell people exactly who and what I was, right from the start. But right now, my entire life depended on me acting like everything was completely fine.

Dammit.

I made plenty of noise coming out of the bathroom and sauntered in with an unconcerned air—or at least I hoped I did.

I glanced down to see that Angie was indeed playing like she was asleep. Thank God. “She was up most of the night. Probably won’t wake up until light,” I told them.

They turned toward me, the newcomers surprised to see another person in the cabin. I wondered whether they thought Angie had managed to make it here on her own—and how they thought that might have happened. But then I put it to the side as distinctly unimportant.

They hadn’t known I was there. So they weren’t very observant. Got it. That would, I hoped, come in handy later.

The host introduced the group. “These are my cousins, Sandy, Ben, and Logan.”

He looked pleased, as though with his thugs for backup, everything was going his way. And I knew what that meant. More of them. Less of me. I tried to remember exactly where I’d put my rifle down—and whether I’d left it loaded. I thought I had. I thought it was under the couch and that it was loaded up, ready to go.

If I was lucky, Angie’s rifle was right there as well. I knew I’d had them both strapped to my back when we got here.

“Glad you guys got through the storm,” I lied. “It’s been a hell of a night out there, eh? We’ll be going as soon as it lets up. Have to get my wife to a hospital.”

One of the cousins, tall and broad with a shaved head, scowled. “That right, Randall? They leavin’ so soon?”

Randall. So our host did have a name.

Randall was still looking at me consideringly. Was he going to show his cards now—or wait until later? Maybe he would still act like he was our friend.

Of course, there was the possibility he would give me his true intentions right now…

“Well, first we’ve got to fix this sweet lady up with a splint,” he said quietly. “Broken leg. Bear attack. She won’t be going anywhere until we’ve splinted her leg.”

The tall one looked at me in surprise. “Attacked by a bear? How the hell did you two survive?”

I shot it—but I didn’t say that. One thorough look at these guys and I realized that the best possible plan here was going to be to act as stupid and helpless as I could. Absolutely naïve to how one stayed alive in the woods. Completely defenseless.

The less they suspected my training, the more surprised they’d be when I turned on them.

“It heard another animal, maybe a moose, and took off. It was acting crazy—like the other animals we saw. Maybe its crazy brain thought every other living thing was encroaching on its territory.” I shrugged, trying to be as simple and non-threatening as possible.

It looked like it was working, so far. The men around me were nodding and grinning to themselves as if they were speaking to an idiot. So far, so good.

Then I remembered that Randall had already seen my dog tags and cursed myself. He knew that I’d been through at least some training—and he had to expect that I knew how to kill. The others might not know yet, but it would take Randall less than ten seconds to tell them. Once he remembered. If he remembered.

There was only one answer. I was going to have to instigate this fight before they figured it out. And I would have to escalate things very quickly in order to catch Randall off guard.

Time to get things moving. Luckily, I already knew exactly how to start this particular fight.

“I have a first aid kit in my bag,” I said. “If we’re going to build a splint, that’ll give us what we need to keep the pain down. Hold on, I’ll grab it.”

But Randall waved me off. “Nope, we got this. Logan, get my green bag and kit from under the bed.”

As the tall guy went on his errand and Randall gazed at Angie, I quickly sized up the other two cousins. Sandy and Ben, I presumed. One was shorter, with neatly trimmed hair, while and the other was of average height with medium-length, greasy hair and a squashed nose that had probably been broken and left that way. Both had a dull look in their eyes, as if they were devoid of compassion.

I hoped it also indicated that they were dull. And slow to react.

The tall one, Logan, had a look of keen and nasty intelligence that rivaled Randall’s. They would be the most dangerous. So the other two, Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum, would go first. Even if they had handguns under their coats like their cousin Randall, I thought I could take them both out before either one went for them.