Chapter 22

The next morning, Justice left at the crack of dawn. As he drove through the desert, he caught glimpses of the coyotes making their way to their dens for the day, and soon, the day creatures, such as the snakes and lizards, would emerge to soak up the sun.

He hadn’t slept well, and found himself a little cranky. He’d kept his contacts in last night in case Holly needed him as he didn’t want her to see his glowing eyes. Visions of Holly filled his dreams, her terrified blue eyes waking him more than once. He rose this morning firmly resolved that he would find the person who had killed Holly’s brother and kill him.

It was as simple as that.

He wouldn’t lie to himself regarding his attraction to Holly. If he really thought about it, he’d been attracted to her for quite a long time, probably since the first time she’d barged through the front door of the bunker and started talking.

He and his crew had watched her on the computer monitor in tense silence while Justice ran through the scenarios of what would happen if she unlocked the gate and walked down the hallway to where they lived. In his mind, he only came up with one answer—they’d have to kill her.

The thought hadn’t sat well in his mind as he’d watched her check the cabinets, since he considered himself a moral male with a strict code of ethics. He didn’t kill unless absolutely necessary, and if she opened that gate and found them and they let her leave, they’d basically have invited in the US Army. No, he didn’t want to tango with them.

“I talk when I get nervous,” she had said. “And frankly, getting assigned to check out these old bunkers pretty much freaks me out. So if there’s anyone down there, you stay there, I’ll stay up here, and we’ll remain friends, okay?” she had said.

He couldn’t help but chuckle back then. The chances of anyone actually being in the bunker had been almost non-existent, but there they’d stood, Justice and his crew, watching her on the monitor while she checked the cabinets.

The tension had grown within Justice as she’d approached the chain link fence and tugged on the lock. He hadn’t want to kill her, but if he’d needed to, he would have.

“I’m going to go now,” she’d called. “I’ll see you next week.”

A collective sigh of relief had gone through the group as the door had shut.

After a few weeks, it became apparent that she couldn’t get in through the gate—she only tugged on the lock, but never produced a key.

When he felt certain for his safety and that of his crew, he began to look forward to her visits, as well as her incessant chatter.

He maneuvered the car onto the main highway as he headed for the missile silo where the Saviors lived, determined more than ever that he would help Holly.