Stronghold | Book 1 | Minute Zero by Jayne Chris

Author:Jayne, Chris [Jayne, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Post-Apocalyptic | EMP | Thriller
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

Louise

Wednesday

11:00 AM Mountain Time

Bowenville, Montana

* * *

Louise looked at the built-in toy shelf in front of her in Brandon’s room, remembering what Roger had said a few minutes earlier: their children had too many toys anyway. When they’d left in July, she’d grabbed a few of Brandon’s absolute favorites, his die-cast cars, a box of Legos, but there was still a lot here.

Sandy stood by her side in the now nearly empty bedroom. Roger and Deacon had made short work of the furniture in Brandon’s room; they’d gotten his racing car bed, his dresser and a small play table into the truck in a matter of minutes. “What should I do?” Sandy asked.

Louise thrust an empty box towards Sandy and motioned to Brandon’s closet. “Just grab all the clothes and stuff them in here. Don’t bother to fold anything. I’ll sort out the things that don’t fit him when I get home.” Louise reached for another flattened box and the tape, preparing to fold it into shape when, out of the corner of her eye she caught movement outside. Brandon’s room faced the back of the house, and she moved to the window and twitched the curtain aside. “Oh crap,” she breathed, her heart sinking.

“What?” Sandy asked, coming to stand next to Louise, then froze. “My God.”

“How the hell did they know?” Louise whispered.

The sight was one they had been dreading, the very thing they had hoped to avoid. Parked next to their moving van was a full-sized crew cab pickup truck, and as they watched, four men emerged. Then, a sturdy SUV pulled around the house, and two more men got out. All of the men in the first truck had visible sidearms, and one man in the second car carried a rifle. Louise’s breath caught and for one instant, she thought she would not be able to breathe. Her hands gripped the windowsill. Next to Louise, Sandy clutched at her arm.

“Deacon,” Louise called, her voice pitched low and tight. “Deacon! Come here, quick.”

Roger and Louise’s bedroom faced the front of the house and Deacon, who had been breaking down the king-sized bed, rushed into Brandon’s room and loomed behind the women. “What’s up?” As all three peered through the glass, Roger, who had been in the back of the truck, emerged. “Crap,” Deacon cursed. He silently watched the action for a moment, then asked, “Which one’s Willie?”

“Brown jacket,” Louise answered.

“Stay here,” Deacon ordered. “Do not come out. If anyone starts shooting, go out the front of the house and run.” He grabbed Louise’s arm and roughly turned her to him, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Understand me?”

“Yes,” Louise agreed, and Sandy nodded. Deacon moved swiftly away from the window and out of Brandon’s room.

Hidden partially behind the curtains, Louise and Sandy moved closer to the glass, but, through the double paned windows, could not hear what was being said outside. Surreptitiously, Louise slipped the window lock open, then turned the crank slowly to crack the window a couple of inches; now the men’s voices came to them clearly.

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