Chapter Forty-Nine

Garrett couldn’t find Sam anywhere. It shouldn’t have surprised him that she hadn’t listened and stayed in the shelter. If she’d gone back to the house to help him and fallen, she could be lying anywhere out in those woods, knocked unconscious.

What if she had fallen on the gun and it went off?

Sam was too smart to go running through the woods with a gun in her hand, but people didn’t always think straight when they were terrified.

Like he was now.

He needed to think so he could find her. If she’d taken a gun and gone back to the cabin, there would be a gun missing from its place on the wall.

He went back inside the bunker and rushed down the steps. The dim light was on, but it hardly helped. He pulled his flashlight to examine the row of guns. She preferred a 30-06 rifle, so he moved down to the end where they were kept. When his flashlight beam touched her legs, he jumped…and let out a gush of relief.

“There you are. Why didn’t you say anything?” When she didn’t answer, or even react, his panic returned. “Sam? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. He cursed himself for asking two questions. Which one was she answering?

He took her shaking hands in his. They were like ice. It wasn’t cold enough in the room for her to be so chilled. This was something else. Something bad.

In the service, he’d seen hard men go into shock. When a person’s mind got to the breaking point, it sometimes simply shut down. And their body would try to do the same.

“Sam?” He gave her a little shake. She shook her head again, though he hadn’t asked a question. “There’s no one here,” he told her. “You’re safe. It must have been a deer or some other large animal that set off the alarm,” he explained, hoping it would help. “You’re okay. We’re both fine.”

But were they fine?

He’d said some horrible things in an effort to get her to move. Was that why she was like this?

“Come on. Let’s go back to the cabin,” he urged.

He helped her up, happy she was able to stand under her own power…because she refused his arm, or even a hand. The walk back was painfully slow. Twice he tried to help her, but she quickly pulled away.

It was encouraging to see her getting steadier as the cabin came into view. It was dark by the time he opened the door to let her in.

She marched right to her room, went in, and locked the door behind her. Not really a surprise. She wanted to be alone. He’d said some cruel things. Things he didn’t mean. But how was she to know that?

He would give her an hour or two to rest, and then they would talk.

Things would go back to normal.

They had to.