Lorna woke, cramped and thirsty. Her stringy hair lay lank across her greasy forehead as she tried to sweep it back with her filthy hands; her nails were split, broken and encrusted with dirt. Who thought about washing anymore? She was lucky to be alive. Water was the new gold. And no one ever wasted gold, they hoarded it . . . if they were lucky enough to have any to hoard to begin with.
She dragged herself off the filthy floor of the bathroom that had been her bedroom for the night to check the door and found Seth had yet to remove the board he always nailed across. She uselessly smacked her palm on the door and slid back to the floor, a futile gesture of defiance.
Defeat settled around her shoulders like a tattered cape; the effort to raise her head again was overwhelming. Picking absently at the sores developing on her face and her upper shoulders, she diffidently examined the blood she found mixed with the dirt under her nails.
Exhausted, she wondered if Seth would allow her the time to scrounge for some antiseptic in the next town they passed. Probably not. His plan of keeping to the woods had kept them alive this long.
From the other corner of the antiquated tiny bathroom, she heard a groan. Slowly she dragged her emaciated body over to where Jen rested and attempted to cradle her granddaughter’s head on her meager lap. She stroked Jen’s limp hair, feeling crusty growths beneath its once lush thickness. We might all look like Biafran refugees of the distant past but we’re still alive, she thought, a spark in her soul refusing to give up. Seth will ensure I at least survive. I’m his ticket into Clyde’s bomb shelter.
Bitter tears dropped down onto Jen’s unconscious figure as Lorna thought about her husband. Would she ever see him again? Would they actually survive long enough to get to Sussex County? Would she remember the directions Clyde had given her?
The once glamorous, confident and competent Lorna found herself reduced to a quavering, subservient creature that would do anything to stay alive. Half the time she existed on the plane of the insane, trying to think only about getting through the next day. Where to steal water, where to steal food, and what straggler she would turn her back on next as Seth stole their supplies and immersed himself in his deadly amusements, leaving silent inert bodies behind with the fading echoes of screams and desperate pleading in Lorna’s ears.
Her stomach plummeted as she forced her memory to turn away.
“Gram . . . where are we?” Jen’s eyes slowly opened as the hesitant whispered words foretold her dissipated strength. Lorna bent down, her worn hands gripping the sides of Jen’s sunken face. She leaned in to shower Jen with grateful kisses.
“Thank the Lord, you’re okay. I didn’t know if you were going to come back to me.”
“What do you mean, Gram? I’m fine.” Jen struggled to sit up, but the task overwhelmed her. “What’s the matter with me? Why can’t I get up? I feel weird.”
She looked down at her clothes, seeing rags. Raising her hands, she discovered the sores that had erupted weeks ago. “Ew, Gram. What’s wrong, where’s Mom?” Her eyes flitted frantically around the room, horror registering as Lorna tried to calm her down. “Christ sakes, where the heck are we?” Her voice broke, terror taking hold.
“Shush, Jen. We don’t want Seth to hear us.”
“Seth? Who’s Seth? And where’s Suzy?”
Oh, my God, thought Lorna. She can’t remember. Tears began again as Lorna wondered how Jennifer could have amnesia. Was it because of her coma?
Lorna allowed her mind to regress back to one of their more hateful evenings. The evening Jennifer had fallen ill. She had unexpectedly slipped into a catatonic state after watching Seth bludgeon a child to death in front of his restrained parents. He had slapped the mother silly as she sobbed, listening to her child’s screams of pain and terror, her husband powerless to do anything. It hadn’t helped when Seth had taken the woman to the car for his amusement.
That was what, two weeks ago? When we still had the car? Lorna ached with the memory of what Seth had done to the woman’s husband after he’d killed her. Poor man, he looked like he didn’t want to live any longer. The family had been just a few days from starvation anyway.
Seth recovered very little from their belongings. Lorna remembered that Jennifer’s sanity had begun to slip right after she had refused the cookie Seth had found in the child’s bag. His crack about how she would grovel for a juicy piece of the kid’s thigh before too long was the final straw for the tormented young girl.
Seth wanted to leave her behind but Lorna would have none of that. She refused to budge without her. Seth’s threats failed to move her. She was not going to leave Jennifer behind like they had Suzy.
Lorna’s vision clouded, her head dizzy as she hurriedly shoved all thoughts of what had happened to Suzy from her mind. If she and Jennifer were to survive this ordeal, she must hold it together.
“Gram, where’s Mom and Dad? I don’t . . . I don’t feel so good. I want to go home.”
Thinking fast, Lorna manufactured a tale. “Sweetie . . . don’t you remember? We were bombed. The Russians, Iran, or maybe Pakistan, who knows, maybe all of them, they all hate us anyway. Suzy’s with your mom and dad. We’re on our way to meet Grandpa.”
Jen scanned the decrepit room and the piles of rags they slept on. “But we’re hurt. And why . . . why are we in this room? Can I call Daddy?”
Lorna thought of her tall, successful son, his dear face already fading from her memory. Who knew if he and his wife still lived? Probably not. She patted Jen’s limp hand, too numb and dehydrated for more tears, and wondering what to say next.
“Gram, I need a glass of water.” Jen’s voice rasped, her tongue swollen and pasty.
What to do? Seth kept them on a leash with the water bottle. Only a sip at a time; never enough to quench their thirst, but enough to keep his meal ticket alive. He refused to supply any water to Jennifer, probably hoping she would die. Lorna was forced to cut her ration in half, saving her last swallow to feed it to Jennifer from her mouth.
“Grrr . . . pluk . . . cak . . . cak, Gram . . .” Jen’s voice tailed off. Lorna shoved her hand under Jen’s rags to feel at her skin as she watched her granddaughter’s eyes flicker and close. She felt the tender flesh at the hollow of her throat, sunken in but warm with a faint beat. Still alive.
Lorna allowed her head to fall back, her emotions fried and spent. She stared up at the yellow-stained ceiling of the bathroom in the small deserted restaurant they had found way off the beaten path four days ago. It had appeared to be a safe place to hole up.
Seth had removed the for sale sign in front of the saggy building, ripping it out of the ground to hide it in the overgrown weeds. No sense inviting any stragglers like themselves to take refuge. Let them wonder if it was occupied and move on. Most would be unwilling to take the risk.
If it appeared you might carry food, water or weapons, you were a target and your life would not be worth shit, nor the life of anyone else in your party. Seth was far from the only predator afoot. He was just more accomplished . . . more experienced . . . more eager.
Now they had a roof over their heads, they rested. They needed it desperately as they’d been running for days. Ever since they had lost custody of the car that horrible night they had left Suzy behind. Lorna wished she could take a burning poker and just burn out the part of her brain that tormented her with the memories of it.
She remembered their first mistake. Seth had decided they needed to get off the back roads to make better progress. They knew they had to hook up to Route 80 eventually, then it would be a straight shot almost all the way to Sussex County. Lorna refused to give Seth any more information after that.
But the highways were littered with the carcasses of vehicles with empty gas tanks. They heard rumors of refugee gangs and ragtag groups calling themselves tribes that took up housekeeping in their useless cars, marking out small territories to highjack any trespassers that passed, looting their meager belongings and sending them on their way empty-handed to die.
If any brave souls decided to challenge the raiders . . . well. Evidence of death and murder lay piled on the sides of the road. From the size of the piles it appeared the killings had escalated. It was sometimes easier to slaughter your prey outright rather than risk them coming back with reinforcements to rescue their belongings.
It became worth the risk. Without their belongings (food, clothes, weapons), no one stood a chance anyway. Their world now existed far beyond that of dog eat dog. Civilization teetered on the insane edge of human eat human, and Lorna did not plan to be around when that erupted, even if she must carry Jen on her back the rest of the way to Sussex County.
That fateful day had begun as miserably as the last. They had piled into the car with all the stolen loot from the cabin they had slept in, not that there had been much left after the inhabitants and other looters had got to it first.
But they had found a blanket and a few kitchen items they could use to trade with. That’s how they had got their intelligence. Seth would take one of the girls with him as he approached an innocuous group after staking them out to reassure himself of their safety. He had found that by trading a small food item, usually crackers or cookies, a pot or a pan (he didn’t want to use water or anything containing protein), he would obtain information that kept them away from trouble spots, hostile gangs and radiation.
They hadn’t been able to avoid radiation completely though—Seth said it extended far into the adjoining suburbs of some of the hot areas they skirted.
Lorna wondered what kind of long-term toll the radiation sickness would take on them. As of the moment before they lost Suzy, they had still had their health except for Jennifer. The sores had sprouted quickly, Seth even getting sloppy nosebleeds. Was that because he had kept them locked up so much while he did the raiding?
As emaciated as they were, they still had energy and health enough to keep food down when they hit the jackpot. And they had still managed enough strength to make deliberate, if paltry, progress east every few days. Seth was certain the medicine socked away in Clyde’s bomb shelter would help them if they were careful not to absorb large doses of the deadly fallout.
They all knew far too well what that looked like. Lorna squeezed her eyes tightly but failed to block the images of dying city dwellers who had survived the bombs only to perish in pain and vomit, their lifeblood draining from their pores as they refused to let go. The children were always the worst. Some lay quietly, others cried weakly, pining for their already dead mothers and fathers before they too took their last breath.
They were lucky that Seth’s guidance had allowed them to miss out on the hundreds of thousands that had died in their boots along the main thoroughfares and highways. Three things ruled their lives: food and water, avoiding trouble, and moving east to salvation.
Lorna and the girls had lived in debilitating fear and shock after the discovery of Seth’s true nature. The girls had been tormented by nightmares for over a month, Lorna by guilt.
All the time Seth had behaved as if they were on a jaunt. No mention had ever been made about Maryann or the events of that fateful evening. Lorna and the girls had instinctively known it was better to cry silently, Lorna’s terror-stricken eyes cutting off any questions that might be overheard by Seth.
Which was most of the time as he never let them out of his sight unless they were locked up. Lorna often tormented herself with the question of what would have happened had she not snooped in Seth’s backpack. Might they have avoided the incident?
Tying her stomach and nerves into knots never gave her an answer. So Maryann had become another victim of the holocaust . . . unknown, unremarked and unmourned. Just another slice of Lorna’s memory she wished to excise.
As time had marched inexorably toward the catastrophic events that had almost destroyed them all, Seth and Lorna had been aware of their dire need of gasoline. They had both known they had about as much chance of finding some as they had of raising Lazarus from the dead, although they kept their opinions to themselves.
Seth’s psychotic habit of pretending they were on the way to a party grated on Lorna’s nerves. So much so she rarely spoke, refusing to play his fucked-up mind game.
It didn’t stop him though. So there they had been, tooling down the access road that ran parallel to the interstate, Lorna dosing off and on, Suzy curled under her arm, and Jen stretched out unconscious in the back seat, twined between the stacks of valuable detritus they had collected.
Lorna and Suzy had been startled awake when the car had run over something in the road, something big by the feel of the bump. The car had swerved first one way and then another as Seth had tried to keep it on the road. Suzy had painfully gripped Lorna’s shirt, her fingers cutting into her skin.
“Ah, fuck. Son of a fucking rotten bitch.” Seth had slammed his palms down on the steering wheel in frustration.
Carefully, softly, Lorna had asked what had happened.
“We just got a flat, again. I hit something. Now we’re going to have to change the tire. And we were making good time. I wanted to get up on the freeway before we ran out of gas. We need to reach a good spot to pull off for the night before it gets dark. Now this fucking tire’s going to put us behind.” He had slammed the car door.
“Get the fuck out here, Lorna, you’re not going to sit on your ass while I do all the work.”
Lorna had clambered out of the car, first imploring Suzy to stay inside. As Seth had opened the trunk, she had watched him appraise the best of the tires he had been collecting for the car. Or should I say stealing? I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. I’d steal too if it would keep the kids safer and get us closer to Sussex County. Flats had become a common occurrence with the amount of off-road driving they had been forced to do in their efforts to stay unobtrusive.
Rounding the passenger side of the car, she had scanned the road, spotting a pile of rags. She had walked toward the rags, holding her breath against hope, praying . . .
“Get the fuck back here, Lorna.”
She had turned to see Seth’s purple face, spittle collecting on his lips as he had screamed at her again. The familiar dread had seeped into her pores, setting her nerves on end. Oh my God, he did something bad again, I know it.
Ignoring Seth’s protests, she had continued on. She had heard his furious footsteps behind her as she had approached the blood-soaked rags, the fixed stare of a young boy with his bloody hands still holding his dying dog by the leash. The large short-haired dog’s tail had wagged uncertainly as Seth had grabbed her arm and turned to viciously stomp on the dog’s head; once, twice, until the tail lay limp.
“You stupid bitch, didn’t I tell you what would happen if you gave me any trouble?”
He had slapped her hard, her face numb, stars swirling in the darkness of her mind. As she had wiped blood from her split lip with the back of her skeletal hand, he had continued to rail at her, demonic eyes flaming.
“We don’t have time for this. How would you like me to dump Jennifer right here by the side of the road?”
Lorna’s gaze had turned back to the two motionless lumps on the road as the enormity of what had actually happened registered.
“You ran them down deliberately, didn’t you, Seth?” Her voice had pierced the cold air, low and deceptively calm.
“Get the fuck back to the car, Lorna. That tire isn’t going to change itself.”
Lorna had balled her fist, unwilling to let it go. “You sick piece of garbage, I will not allow you to kill anymore.”
Seth had shut his mouth and stared at Lorna. He had looked her up and down, slow and insolent. The gleam in his eyes had brightened as his face had lit up with a brilliant sick smile.
Suddenly the click of a dozen rifles had sounded, the clicks themselves no less shocking as their bullets might be. A voice had carried crisply across the cool air. “Are you going to answer the nice lady, Seth? She wants to know if you ran them down deliberately.”
Seth’s face had drained of color as they were surrounded by a motley group of men of various ages and states of emaciation who had appeared up on the ridge that separated the access road from the freeway: lean and hungry looking men.
A tall man in his late forties had nodded his head toward the dead boy. Another shorter man, his beard wild and matted, had scrambled down to lean over him. His hand had gone to his face, now awash in anguish. His broken voice had carried back to the tall man, who appeared to be their leader.
“Doc, it’s too late. He’s gone, Dukie too.”
The man called Doc had clenched his teeth and ambled down the ridge to make his way to Lorna and Seth. The other men had closed in. With a nod from Doc, two men had slipped behind Seth, wrenching his arms behind his back, and had snapped on a pair of plastic cuffs. Doc had turned to face Lorna. He had given a measured nod.
“Madam, I presume from the conversation we just overheard that you and ol’ Seth here are not exactly friends?”
Lorna had tried to consider her answer but her thoughts had raced so fast she couldn’t formulate a plan. With her heart tripping madly, she had decided some version of the truth would be best. She couldn’t afford to piss off Seth, there was no telling what he would say or do. What if he told the men about Clyde’s shelter? They might want to try to break in themselves.
Lorna had stolen a glance at Seth. If only I could use these men to break away from him. She had quickly considered her dilemma, remembering they were almost out of gas and would be forced to carry Jennifer the rest of the way. Can I do that on my own? In my condition? Oh Lord, I think I’m going to need Seth after all.
“I’m Doctor Benjamin. Just call me Benjamin, or Doc . . . or royally pissed off.”
His stern but respectful countenance, precise diction and clear intelligence had suggested to Lorna that she might be able to leave here peacefully if she was careful. Doc Benjamin had motioned with his hand to his men who hastened to remove the remains of the boy and his dog.
“But I am a reasonable man, so I will ask you again, who are you and what is your relationship to Seth here?”
Lorna had begun to quaver as she had seen the car door open in the distance. Oh no, baby, stay in the car. She had watched as Suzy had stepped out of the car to see what was going on.
“Keep your mouth shut, Lorna. I’ll handle this.” Seth’s voice had clearly carried a menacing undertone. With that, Benjamin had leaned over to give Seth a backhand, knocking him to the ground.
“Did you hear me ask the lady a question? Is your name, madam? Do you need some help with your hearing? Avery . . .” he called out.
A behemoth-like Avery would have stood out no matter what the prevalence of food was. But Lorna’s attention had been drawn to the equally enormous machete gripped in his ham-like paw.
“I want you to help Seth here with his hearing. I need him to understand who I’m speaking to.”
With those instructions, Avery had bent over, reaching down to tug on Seth’s ear. With one deft stroke, he had removed the ear, his machete slicing deftly through skin and cartilage. Lorna had not been sure Seth had understood what had happened, even as blood had flowed down the side of his head to mix with the dirt and blood left by the boy and his dog.
To Lorna’s mortification, Seth had begun to cry, and Benjamin’s men had hooted and jeered. Lorna had cringed, knowing that if they got away with this, Seth would take his humiliation out on her and the girls. She had shouted out, her words tumbling off her lips. “My name is Lorna. I’m traveling to find my husband. Seth is a traveler I met on the road some months ago. He’s helping me drive. I’m so sorry about this accident. But it was an accident.”
Doc Benjamin had looked straight into Lorna’s eyes as she spoke, causing her to squirm. His eyes had followed her every twitch.
“I must have misunderstood your conversation with ol’ Seth here. I thought you were accusing him of deliberately running our boy down.”
“Oh, no sir . . . I mean, Doctor Benjamin.”
He had moved closer to Lorna, so close she had been able smell his ubiquitous rancid breath. Exhaling her own, he had backed off quickly.
“It was purely an accident, sir. No harm was intended. We’re horrified and stressed by our actions. I didn’t know what I was saying. I’m sure you can understand that.”
Doctor Benjamin had looked from Lorna to Seth.
“I rightly can understand that. But you killed a promising young boy. And that dog of his could have fed my men and the women for a full day. As soon as you compensate us for our loss, you can be on your way.”
Lorna had breathed a sigh of relief as Seth had continued to whimper on the ground. “Oh, right . . . of course. We have water and pots . . .” She had watched Benjamin’s unyielding expression. “And a few blankets . . . I’m sure you could use those. Uh . . . wait.” She had lifted her hand in vain for the men had spotted Suzy.
Benjamin had given Lorna an enigmatic glance, ripe with expectation. “I think we should have no problem coming to a suitable arrangement.”
With that, the men had turned toward the vehicle. Benjamin had put his fingers to his mouth and given a piercing whistle. From over the ridge had flowed a torrent of women—young women . . . with blank faces. They had run to the men, lining up behind each of them. Some girls as young as twelve and possibly less had stood at attention behind the men who had cultivated possessive grins. Some men only had one or two girls, some five or six. Benjamin had none.
“All right now, you know what to do.” And off they had run to the car. Like locusts, they had ripped every thread of cloth, every bit of metal, all of their food and water and their map out of the car. One of the older girls had run back to Benjamin.
“You better come see this, Doc.”
With that, the entire group, minus Seth, had moved over to the vehicle. As Lorna had hurried behind them, Suzy had run into her arms, eyes big and frightened. Lorna had paled, catching a lingering glance from Dr. Benjamin as he had made his way to the back seat of the car, their possessions now strewn about in small piles.
“Who do we have here? Is she sick?” He had hurriedly backed away from the car.
As Lorna had realized Benjamin was a doctor, duh, she had begged him to examine Jen. With a nod, he had pulled a breathing mask out from a pocket, waving for the rest of his gang to hasten and do the same.
From out of their rags, they had all removed a breathing mask. Jealously, Lorna had waited while they put their protection in place. All kinds of diseases were circulating. Many were airborne. In the breakdown of civilization, one of the first things to go was hygiene. When toilets didn’t flush and soap was nonexistent . . . Seth’s plan to stay away from other people by sticking to the back roads and woods had kept them from catching any of the numerous viral diseases that had decimated towns like wind blowing over matchsticks.
Twenty minutes later, Dr. Benjamin had climbed out of the car.
“I can’t see anything wrong with her. She shows no overt symptoms of anything. Without lab work, I’m just guessing, though. Most of my work before the bombs was just guesswork anyway. I don’t even think I’ve ever met a real doctor.”
“You’re not a real doctor?”
Benjamin had looked affronted at her admonishment.
“Well, I am a physician’s assistant. I worked in a hospital for almost twenty years. Don’t you know there are no more doctors? I am the doctor. I’m the best you can get.”
Tiring of the discussion, Benjamin had signaled the women, who picked up Lorna and Seth’s possessions and scurried over the ridge out of sight.
“Whoa, hold on there. You can’t leave us out here with just our car.”
“I’m not going to. Keys, please?”
“I don’t have them.”
As Lorna had watched, a man had run back to Seth to rifle his pockets. Other men had eased Jennifer out of the car and laid her out on the ground. Lorna had raced to her side.
“Get your hands off her.”
Benjamin had flicked the recovered keys to another man. Lorna had stared as he drove off with the car. All had been quiet as they waited for the car to return. Ten restless minutes had passed before the car had returned, stopping in front of Lorna. Stuck in the open back had been a child’s wagon, modified to carry possessions with a tightly secured board, creating a large platform from which to load.
“You have got to be kidding me.” Lorna had watched as the modified wagon had hit the ground and the vehicle had driven off again.
“On the contrary, dear woman, you don’t know me so I will forgive you. Does it look like I am a kidder?” Benjamin’s eyes had bored into her own, then he had glanced again at Suzy. “Please help Seth to his feet, gentlemen.”
He had signaled to his men. Seth had hobbled over to Lorna, his cheeks tear-stained, his pride in Benjamin’s pocket. Lorna had tried not to look at the blood leaking from his missing ear.
From over the ridge had run one of the young girls who, with an encouraging nod from Benjamin, had proceeded to quickly bandage Seth’s ear. She had stepped back and run off back over the ridge. Benjamin had inspected her work.
“Not bad, she’s improving.” He had turned to Lorna. “I think we may be even now. I think it is time for you to move on . . . before I change my mind.” He had smiled encouragingly.
“But we won’t survive without our things. I demand you return our water.” Lorna had stood tall. From nowhere, Benjamin’s arm had shot out to grab Lorna’s arm in a death grip, the pain forcing her to stagger and drop to her knees.
“My dear, I’m sure my pleasing affect and melodiously educated voice has convinced you there is some way you can reason with me. I assure you that will not happen. You are beginning to test me and I don’t care to be challenged. That is a mistake. Avery?” The giant had come to attention.
“I want you to remove my gift of the wagon and take your machete . . . what is the young lady’s name?”
Lorna had paled, all blood rushing from her face. She had felt as if she would faint. Benjamin’s fingers had dug deeper into her arm, the pain fighting with the mind she had thought she was losing.
“Her name,” he had roared.
“Jen—Jennifer.” Lorna had forced the word but it had come out as a whisper.
“I want you to take your machete, Avery, and slit Jennifer’s throat.”
Avery had moved toward Jennifer.
“No! Please. Come on, Seth, Suzy. Let’s get Jen into the wagon.” She had turned to Benjamin, who released her arm. “We’ll go. Thank you for your . . . your gift.” She had bowed her head, pushing Suzy and Seth over to the wagon.
Before they had been able to take an extra breath, Benjamin’s men had appeared behind them.
“Just one minute, my dear. Your transgression requires further payment.”
Lorna had spun around, suddenly frightened by the proximity of Benjamin’s men.
“Further payment?” Her voice had squeaked with incomprehension, her features stiff and glacial.
On a signal from Benjamin, the men had surrounded Lorna, separating her from Suzy. They had passed the little girl from hand to hand, rushing her toward the ridge.
“Grandma, don’t let them take me,” Suzy had shrieked.
She had fallen to the ground, her fingers digging into the dirt, trying to claw her way back. “No, no, no, Gram, Seth . . . don‘t let them take me.”
One of the men had reached down and thrown her over his shoulder.
“Nooooooo . . .”
They had quickly disappeared over the ridge as her little girl’s screams had faded into the dark. Lorna had dropped to the ground sobbing. Avery had knelt with his machete to Jennifer’s throat.
“Look at me.” Benjamin’s voice had cut through Lorna’s sobs like the edge of a stiletto. She had raised her head slowly.
“I suggest you and the worthless Seth put the other young lady in the wagon and be off.”
“But Suzy’s only five years old. Paleesee,” she had begged pitifully. “We can’t just leave her. Take me instead.”
“You?” He had sounded incredulous. Laughingly he had added, “I admire your spirit, my dear, but you are simply unsuitable. I assure you, she will be well trained with the rest of the girls. The training is quite rigorous but most come through without scars. The young are quite malleable. There have been a few suicides but they would have proved unsuitable anyway.”
Lorna had wiped her tears with the corner of her torn shirt. “Suicide? Unsuitable?” she had numbly asked. “But why? Training? What are you going to do to my baby?” Lorna had rubbed her hands through her scraggly hair, her split nails raking down the sides of her face. She had doubted if she could take anymore, her mental reserves bankrupt.
“Don’t worry, my dear, I will personally take her under my wing. Unlike my men, I have yet to take a woman as my concubine. She will be my first.”
With the shock permanently imbedded in Lorna’s face, Benjamin had turned on his heels. As he had slipped over the ridge, his last words had echoed in her ears, never to be forgotten.
Seth had spoken up for the first time, as if nothing of any great significance had just happened, his voice regaining strength as he spoke. “Well, time to get the show on the road.” He had tried to lift Jennifer, to no avail.
“Are you going to just sit there and mope or are you going to help? They might decide to come back. I’m sure they saw me as a threat and might want to force me to join them. That would leave the two of you alone. You really need me now.”
“Oh yeah, I’m sure they’re scared of you.”
Lorna had tried to stand, her legs weak, her stamina beaten down, her thoughts and prayers on Suzy.
“What did you say?” The gleam of control had been back in his eye.
She had witnessed his hands draw up into a fist. Unwilling to be a punching bag for a cowardly psycho again, she had pulled herself together, thought about how they could rescue Suzy, and had stepped forward to calmly face the man who she knew she would be forced to kill before she found her way to her husband with both of her granddaughters safely in tow.
*
Lorna’s neck had developed a crick and she adjusted her position on the bathroom floor, withdrawing her feeble hand from under Jennifer’s rags, her granddaughter clearly back in the grip of a deep coma.
She had yet to find the proper moment to fulfill her promise made the day they had lost Suzy. Lost? Was that the word she was using to convince herself that she needed to let Seth live? Without his cunning, she would never make it to Clyde and salvation. Her heart shriveled as she wondered what she had become.
Inching closer to Jen, Lorna caved into despair and closed her eyes.
The End