Then There Was You Part 17

Sara brushed past Josh. She'd always known her family would have a problem with her telling Dane about their hideouts, but it annoyed her more than she'd expected. Why couldn't her brother focus on the important stuff, like gathering their supplies and getting away, and leave the petty stuff behind?

Walking into one of the bedrooms, she opened a small closet and slid out a long, narrow black case. She twisted the dials on the front, and a lock clicked open. Rows of handguns and boxes of ammo filled the interior.

Banging sounded from the bottom floor of the house. Someone outside was making a solid effort to figure out how to get upstairs. It wouldn't be long before they either found the lever or busted through the bookshelf.

"Take as much as you can carry in your bag and your pockets. We won't get to make a return trip." Josh grabbed two guns and a few boxes of ammo himself before moving off into the other bedroom. Sara and Dane did the same then followed.

In the second bedroom, they grabbed first aid supplies and medications from another locked storage case. By the time they finished, they each had packs and pockets filled to bursting.

The banging on the bookshelf got louder, followed by the sounds of splintering wood and cheering.

"We gotta get out of here," Dane said, looking around for an exit.

"This way." Sara ducked behind a set of bunk beds. Together, she and Josh pulled up a trap door, revealing a ladder attached to the wall with enough s.p.a.ce for them to climb down with their overfilled packs. Sara nudged Josh toward the opening in the floor. "You first, big brother."

He smirked and climbed onto the ladder, pausing before his head disappeared inside. "Don't trust me with your boyfriend, huh?"

"No, I don't. Move it, or we're all going to get caught."

"You're next," Dane said.

"I am not. You're next. I'm the only other person besides Josh who knows the way. You should be in the middle, so you don't get left behind." Not her strongest argument, but with every wasted second, the uneasiness in her stomach quadrupled.

"Are you going to fight with me about this?" Dane shook his head, frowning in frustration. "You won't be able to pull the door shut as easily as I will. The last thing we need is them finding our way out. Go, or it'll be too late."

She hesitated before stepping toward the ladder as a noise-so thunderous it rattled the walls-roared through the house.

"Go," he yelled.

The angry voices from the lower level grew clearer the closer they got. "s.h.i.+t! I'm going!" She sprang into action.

Already a moment too late, arms grabbed her shoulders from behind, pulling her off her feet. She yelped and struggled against them as the cold, raw fear of being taken away again flooded her system. She couldn't let that happen. Fight, Sara, fight, ran through her mind and her eyes connected with Dane's. He hadn't shouted the words out loud this time but he didn't need to. His expression said everything.

Sara struggled hard against the tightening grip on her arms. Dane rushed forward in an unexpected burst of speed, and she welcomed his presence. She needed him, his strength, his conviction, his power to do what had to be done, no matter what the cost, if it meant saving the people he loved.

Dane lunged when Sara dodged to the side. His fist connected with her a.s.sailant's nose. Blood splattered and the man let out a pained screech and bones crunched.

Sara dropped to the ground, hard, on her knees and scrambled out of the way.

"The ladder, Sara," Dane yelled, rousing her from her shocked stupor.

She crawled to the trap door and swung her legs over the edge, catching the first rung. "I'm not leaving without you," she said, turning to watch him fight.

"I'll be right behind you. Go!" Dane took a solid punch to the gut and rolled forward. Sara grabbed the side of the opening, ready to propel herself into the fight, but before she could, Dane sprang to his feet again, pummeling the guy. A moment later, only Dane remained standing.

"Go. I'm coming," Dane said, gasping and holding his stomach.

Sara climbed down the rungs and into the darkness. She peered up at the light, making sure he followed her. A loud bang sounded from above her. Angry voices and shouting filled the air. She started up the ladder but stopped when Dane swung down.

"Go!" He pulled the trap door closed behind him. Before it shut, he drew his weapon and fired twice, aiming high.

Panic rose in Sara's throat, momentarily suffocating her. Fear coursed through her at the possibility she'd have to watch Dane almost die again. What if, this time, the bad guys won?

But he was already climbing down the ladder and would step on her hands in another rung or two. She didn't wait around to find out whom he'd shot at. He'd said go, so she would listen. Below her, Josh called for them to hurry. A few seconds later, Sara stepped down onto the hard dirt floor of the cellar and helped Josh pull a large chest away from the wall. Behind it, a secret tunnel led out of the room and into the nearby woods.

"You guys are unbelievable." Dane came up behind Sara, breathing hard from racing down the ladder. "You have any other mystery doors I should know about?"

"Not here," Sara said. "The bunker is a whole other house of mystery."

"d.a.m.n it," Josh fumed. "You told him about the bunker? What the f.u.c.k, Sara?"

"Now's really not the time." Dane glanced toward the ladder they'd escaped down. "I took out the first two who came into the room, but I'm pretty sure there were more behind them. If we're getting out of here alive, we need to go."

This time Sara went first. When she pa.s.sed Josh, she couldn't resist. "I showed him where the bunker is. What are you going to do about it, big brother?"

He grumbled an unrecognizable response as Dane followed Sara. Behind them, Josh struggled to pull the chest into place, hiding their exit.

Darkness enclosed them and they started down the tunnel. Sara coughed on the dank, stale air. Panic threatened to overwhelm her. She wasn't afraid of small s.p.a.ces, but she didn't enjoy this one. Who knew what could be down there with them-bugs, spiders, rodents? The image of a giant spider, lurking on the walls, sent a s.h.i.+ver up her spine, and she picked up the speed of her steps.

After what felt like forever, with only the sounds of their breathing and footfalls keeping them company, she saw a tiny sliver of light ahead. A moment later, she reached a door and felt for the latch to let them out.

"Halfway down on the left," Josh said from somewhere behind her.

She traced along the door until she came to the wall then skimmed her hands down the rough boards. At last, she found a cold metal latch and lifted it. The door swung open, and they stepped out into a section of woods. A veil of weeping willow branches from a huge tree helped to camouflage the exit. In the distance, she could barely make out the bookstore through the trees. They had to be almost a half-mile away.

"Did you guys make the escape route?" Dane asked, stretching and taking in their new surroundings. The tunnel had been so low he'd had to run hunched over the entire way.

"No. The bookstore used to be a slavery safe house, and the pa.s.sage got moved people in and out unseen. One of the many reasons we bought the place to begin with."

"Let's see if we can barricade the door in case anyone manages to follow us," Josh said, dropping a large rock at the base of the door.

Sara grabbed the biggest stone she could find and added hers to the growing pile. Soon, rocks and large logs covered the doorway. Anyone coming from the woods would never think to look twice, and anyone using the tunnel would have a h.e.l.l of a time getting the door to budge without a good amount of time and effort.

"When they figure out we've gotten away, hopefully they'll be satisfied to take the supplies and leave us alone." Josh sat on a fallen log and rubbed his hands across his face, showing the stress and strain of their escape.

"They might leave you alone, but not me. At the very least, I wounded two of their men. They won't forget me. Better we keep moving." Dane s.h.i.+fted his pack around on his shoulders as if trying to make it more comfortable.

Sara's bag cut into her shoulder, but she forced the discomfort from her mind, knowing the burden of carrying the load could mean the difference between them living or dying. Besides, the weight of her backpack paled in comparison to the pain in her feet. She might as well be walking on razor blades for all the good the bandages and ointments did to soothe her. She'd heal with rest, but that wouldn't happen any time soon, judging by the situation they were in.

Just thinking about the ache with each step forced her to sit for a rest. She cringed as she stretched out her legs, taking the pressure off.

Dane came to her side. "Are you hurt?"

She waved him off. "I'll be fine. It's my feet, nothing serious." She turned to Josh. "Where's everyone else? We're not leaving them, are we?"

"They're up ahead, in the old church."

The idea of seeing her family soon made her heart pound and her breath hitch.

"This way," she said to Dane, starting off into the woods, limping but moving as fast as she could. Their destination waited less than a mile away. She'd been there a few times before during practice runs for evacuations from the bookstore. She should have known it's where they'd be without having to ask.

Chapter Twenty-Five.

"Sara, wait," Josh said, running to catch up. He fell into step beside her, and she hobbled even faster, ignoring the pain in her feet but unable to quell her desire to get to her family. "I need to tell you something."

"Whatever it is, it can wait. There will be plenty of time to talk later. I want to hear everything at some point." Sara took Dane's hand and squeezed it, looking for strength and comfort. She should still be mad at him for their fight earlier, but it didn't matter anymore.

As soon as the church came into view, she jogged for it, her body numb. She burst through the doorway and skidded to a stop. Her family huddled together on an old pew, pushed to the side of the room. Her footsteps slowed as she drew nearer. Tension hung in the air like heavy fog, tinted with waves of sadness. Her father lay on the pew, covered in a blanket.

"Hi," she said, raising her hand in a little wave. She'd thought about what she'd say in this moment if she ever got the chance, about what she'd do. None of it came to mind as she got to see her family again for the first time since the outbreak.

"Sara!" Her sister shrieked, jumping up and throwing her arms around her shoulders, hugging her. "I'm so happy to see you."

This isn't happening. She hugged her sister regardless. It felt like a dream she'd had multiple times since being separated from them. She'd see her family, they would have a wonderful reunion, and they'd share a meal and stories about what they'd been doing. Then they would vanish before her eyes. One minute, they would be in her arms, and the next, she'd be grasping at nothing but air. She always woke with a sob on her breath.

Sara extricated herself from her sister's embrace and went to her mom, falling to her knees to hug her where she knelt beside the pew. Uncontrollable tears streamed down her face, and she didn't bother to wipe them away. She'd been strong, holding in her worry and pain as best she could, but now, she couldn't stop the release even if she wanted to.

"I'm so glad you're okay, honey," her mom said, holding her daughter's head in her hands. Sara saw her fear, worry, and anxiety all reflected in her mom's eyes.

She dropped her gaze to her father. He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, his skin sallow, his lips dry. Something in her chest twisted, making her breath hitch. "What's wrong with Dad?"

"You didn't say anything?" Sue asked, accusation in her voice. "How could you let her walk in here without warning her?"

"I didn't get the chance. We were running for our lives, and then when I tried to tell her, she wouldn't stop long enough to listen."

"What's going on? Someone tell me." Sara tried to keep her voice steady, but it wavered, nonetheless.

"Dad's sick," Sue said, rubbing her hands together.

"Is it the virus?" Her pulse thundered in her ears as she waited for an answer she didn't want to hear.

"No," Sue whispered.

"Thank G.o.d," Sara said, letting out her breath.

"But it's not much better. It's likely pneumonia, and it's getting worse. Much worse."

"So take him to the hospital. Get him antibiotics, and he'll be good as new in a few days."

"He's already been on them and it didn't help." Her mom spoke with such kindness it made Sara weep. "We've tried all the hospitals in the area but they are all out of medicines. It's one thing we didn't plan for. There's nothing else we can do but hope for the best."

Sara's head spun, and she grabbed the edge of the pew to steady herself. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't have come all this way, been through so much, and at last found her family just to lose her father. This had to be another dream. A nightmare this time. Soon, she'd wake up, and it would be her and Dane again.

"I know he'll be happy to see you." Her mom rubbed her back, comforting her like she'd always done. The gesture made Sara feel like a six year old again, like her mom's kiss on the forehead could make all the bad in the world disappear.

Numbness settled over Sara like a fog. She held her father's hand and stroked his pale skin with her thumb. She remembered all the times they'd sat on the couch, watching a game together, cheering for the underdogs, whoever they happened to be. She traced the scar on the side of his finger, the one he got the time he'd tried to teach her how to fish and instead just taught her how to hook his finger.

She rested her forehead on the edge of the pew as the tears came faster and faster, blurring her vision. She was aware of people saying things to her, but didn't hear a word. None of it mattered anyway.

Sometime later, a hand stroked through her hair, and she realized it belonged to her father. She moved slowly, not wanting to startle him. His eyes were open as he smiled at her.

"Sara," he whispered. "My sweet Sara. I'm so sorry you have to see your old dad this way."

She grabbed his hand in both of hers and brought it to her lips, kissing his knuckles then holding them against her cheek. Her gaze never left his. She wanted to take in every second with him she could get.

"I'm here, Dad." Sara took in a deep, shaky breath, which did little to calm the hurricane of emotions running inside her.

"You should go. You should take them all with you. Leave me. Get somewhere safe. Stick to the plan."

Sara shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere without you."

He chuckled. "Well, you're not coming with me where I'm headed. So, you may as well get going. No need to stick around and watch me wither away."

"Stop, Dad. You're going to be fine. We'll get help. Maybe the hospitals have gotten more medicine."

"I see you're still as stubborn as the rest of them," her father said. "Tell me who the man is. He looks like he's one second away from pa.s.sing out from exhaustion."

Sara turned to find Dane standing a few feet behind her. She'd forgotten about him as soon as she'd laid eyes on her family. Guilt washed over her for how fast he'd fallen from her mind. She reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him to her side.

"This is Dane. We met right after the virus. .h.i.t, and we've been together ever since."

"It's nice to meet you, sir." Dane shook her father's weak hand.

"You too, son. I hope you've been taking good care of my girl."

Dane glanced to Sara, and she smiled encouragingly. Despite their fight, Sara hoped he'd say yes, because it was true. "I've been doing the best I can. But you've raised a strong-willed daughter, and she doesn't always want to take my advice."

"That's my girl," her father said, chuckling then coughing. When the bout subsided, he'd fallen asleep.

"We should leave him to rest, and we should get some sleep ourselves," Dane said, his hand on Sara's shoulder.

She shook her head. "I can't leave him."

Dane nodded and sat beside her on the floor. "Then I'm staying, too."

Dane rubbed the ache in his neck and tried not to s.h.i.+ft around. Sara slept against his chest, her hand still holding her father's. Soft sounds of breathing filled the tiny s.p.a.ce around the pew, where they kept a vigil. Josh and Sue had moved two pews over and were sleeping. Sara's mother refused to lie down and had fallen asleep sitting with her head on her folded arms near her husband's head.

He yawned and rolled his neck. Sleeping sitting up would never be possible in a normal situation, but nothing about the last month had been normal. With his exhaustion level, he could sleep anywhere at this point, anytime it was safe to do so.

"Burning the midnight oil?" The man's scratchy voice caught Dane off guard, and it took him a minute to get his bearings.