Epilogue
Six months later, I’m crouched with Micah and Burgundy at the top of a steep cliff that overlooks one of the main roads that run through the Wild, peering through the scope of my rifle.
“Yep,” I say, glancing back toward the others. “It’s definitely Holy Rollers. I can see the clothes the guys in the back are wearing.”
“How many?” Micah asks.
“Two in the cab and two in the back. They’re heading this way.”
“Shoot the driver.” That’s Burgundy, sounding colder than a warm-hearted woman should ever sound.
Her months at the Holy Compound didn’t change her completely.
Most of the time, according to Micah, she’s who she’s always been.
But whenever the Holy Rollers are even mentioned, she ices up with startling ruthlessness.
She hasn’t forgiven or forgotten. She hates them even more than I do.
Micah worries about her, but I get it. I’d be the same if I was trapped there as long as she was.
“Not until they cross over into our territory,” I say.
“What do you think they’re about to do? They’ll reach the boundary in less than five minutes.”
“So I’ll shoot in five minutes.”
“No reason to piss off Logan for no reason.” That’s Micah, trying to smooth over conflict.
Burgundy gives her brother a chilly look. “Logan can go to hell. He doesn’t make decisions for me.” Then something happens and she shakes off the mood. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
Micah shrugs and gives her a soft punch on the shoulder. “No worries. Kinda fun to see you so fierce.”
It’s impossible to resist Micah when he turns on the charm, and Burgundy relaxes into a quiet chuckle. “Maybe I’ve always been fiercer than you think.”
“No doubt. We should go down to the road so we’re ready when Kat shoots the driver.”
Burgundy likes this idea, and I watch the two of them hike down the ridge until they’re out of sight in the trees. Then I line up the scope and keep the rifle trained on the driver as the vehicle continues approaching.
There’s one more turnoff before the boundary to Logan’s territory. If the Holy Rollers turn on that gravel road, then I won’t shoot them.
No matter how I feel about those people, I won’t kill indiscriminately. I won’t shoot them unless they cross a clear line.
Right now, that line is the boundary marker, and they’ve been warned multiple times about doing so.
Logan isn’t violent for the sake of violence, but he doesn’t pull punches and he doesn’t give second chances.
Crossing into our territory is an act of war.
The truck doesn’t turn at the side road, so I get ready. I wait until the vehicle has passed the two-trunked tree I always use as a landmark.
Then I suck in a long, slow breath, line up the sight, and pull the trigger.
I hit the driver exactly as I intended, and the truck veers wildly off the road, stalling out in the ditch beside it. Micah and Burgundy are already in place, taking out the remaining men when they start firing back.
It’s well over by the time I get down the ridge and to the road. Micah is collecting their weapons, and Burgundy is checking the condition of the truck.
“It’s dented but still drives,” she calls through the driver’s window as she reverses out of the ditch and then straightens it up on the road. “I’ll drive it back.”
“Good deal.” Micah puts a hand on my back as he watches his sister shift the vehicle into drive. “We’ll be right behind you.”
We stand and watch her drive away for a minute and then head toward where we’re left the ATV we used for this trip.
Logan has increased the number of his outlooks posted throughout the region between the Holy Compound and his territory, which is how we got an early warning of this group’s approach. They haven’t tried anything for months now, and hopefully this defeat will make them back off again.
Micah grins at me as I take my seat in the ATV.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothin’. I just never stop bein’ amazed by you. That was some impressive shootin’.”
I smile back at him, washed with warm pleasure. I never knew what it felt like for a man to genuinely appreciate me—all of me, completely—until Micah. “Thank you. I do my best.”
“Your best is better than anyone else.” His expression changes as he puts the vehicle into drive, starting down the road in the same direction Burgundy took. “You think she’s okay?”
“Yeah. She’s okay. She only gets that way about the Holy Rollers, and it’s understandable. They had her for months, and that kind of thing isn’t easy to shake. It’s only been six months since she came home. Give her some time.”
“You’re right.” He relaxes again. “I’m just glad to have her back.”
“I’m glad she’s back too.” I never had a real best friend before, but I would call Burgundy that for me now, especially now that Lilah has been so busy with Matthew, her new baby boy.
“And I’m glad I have you. I never really believed life could be this good.”
I lean over to kiss the side of his jaw, his short beard tickling my lips. “Same here.”
We spend the night at Logan’s headquarters so we can hang out with our friends for the evening. Then we gather our stuff, plus Molly, and return to our camper.
The weather is getting colder this late in the year, but the sun is out so we can bathe in the creek.
We’ve already agreed that, when winter comes on strong, we’ll stay at Logan’s instead of toughing it out here.
Last winter was colder than any winter I’ve ever experienced in this region, and I’m afraid it will keep getting worse since the climate was thrown into such upheaval after Impact.
It will be safer for all three of us if we’re not isolated in an old camper during a harsh winter.
But it’s not time to retreat yet. We build a fire in the firepit, roast pork chops and carrots, and then Micah plays the guitar while we sing.
Just for pleasure. Because we both love it.
Our voices blend really well together, and the music fills the growing shadows of the woods around us. Molly lies at my feet, occasionally lifting her head to listen when I hit a particularly high note. And Micah’s dark blue eyes are soft and warm on my face.
He loves me so much. It’s impossible not to feel it. Right now and every moment of my days.
I think back to what he said earlier, and the truth of it washes over me.
The world fell apart when the asteroid hit, and far too many people are actively trying to make it worse.
But we didn’t lose everything.
Maybe we just got lucky, but now I’m thinking it’s more than that. A truth I didn’t believe in before.
Somehow, in some way, what’s good will always endure.