10. Knox
TEN
KNOX
“There were no cops or roadblocks,” I muse, passing the generators and heading for the animal feed.
“You noticed that, did you? My guess is Wyatt and the local officials are scrambling with their own problems, and no one else is coming.”
I glance at Scott as he lugs a tow hitch onto his cart. “I might regret it,” he says, glancing down. “I’m making myself a target, driving with a trailer of supplies, but—” He scratches his head. “I know I’ll regret not taking everything I can, seeing as how we don’t exactly know what we’re up against. It’s hard enough, leaving so much behind.”
“Better to take what you can,” I agree. “You can always ditch it later.”
“True.” He looks at me. “What’s your plan? You staying at the ranch?”
My shoulders sag a little and I shake my head. “For now,” I say, because I don’t know what to do at this point.
“Well, feel free to take a few flats of water,” he says, disappearing down an aisle. “I’m going to load my trailer up with the rest.”
“I will, thanks.” My voice is hollow as I stack horse feed and dog food onto my trolley cart, and I lose myself in a haze of thoughts. About the ranch and what happens to it if I leave for Ransom, Kansas. About where my father and brother will go if they are alive. The ranch, hoping to find me there? Or Kansas, hoping I was smart enough to head that way too? A part of me says to hold out for as long as I can here to see if either of them show. Another part of me screams how insane it is to linger.
The metal clank of jerry cans echoes through the warehouse as Scott lugs some into his pile. “You should take a few of these. I’m thinking that Sunoco—the one on the other side of town—might be a good place to fill up. People off the highway won’t know it’s there. We could get them filled before we leave.”
I nod. Though I have ample fuel at the ranch, it never hurts to have more, especially since we have no idea how long the town’s supply will last. Or how much I’ll need to get to Kansas if I go. When I go, I correct myself. I know it’s only a matter of time before I’ll have no other choice, and that alone sends my mind down another rabbit hole.
I never considered having to leave the ranch and what that would entail. It’s one thing to prepare to hole up at home where I have everything I need and know my surroundings like the back of my hand—where I can prepare to die in the comfort of my own home if it ever came to that. But if I leave, there’s no telling what could happen along the way or how to prepare for it. And I have a ranch full of animals to worry about on top of whatever uncertain journey lies ahead.
“I have to keep reminding myself I’m packing for two,” Scott mutters, mostly to himself. He tosses two pairs of gloves onto his pile.
“How is that, exactly?” I ask, unable to stop myself. “I know Ava works for you, but you’re traveling together?” Fleetingly, I wonder if there is a different sort of relationship between them, and I’ve just prodded into territory I don’t want to be in.
“Mavey.”
“Mavey?” I frown, confused. “Her grandmother?” I know they aren’t technically related, but I’m not sure what else to call her.
“She died last night. I went to check on them this morning. Ava was still waiting for the paramedics to come. They weren’t going to, of course.”
Before I can process that, a door slams in the back of the warehouse, followed by the heavy, quick clomp of rubber soles on the cement floor.
Scott and I straighten. I strain to listen and hold my breath as Scott’s hand hovers over the pistol at his hip.
Ava rushes in from the back, weaving around the aisle of gardening supplies. “Scott—” Her chest heaves as she catches her breath, her eyes immediately widening when she sees me. “Knox?”
“What’s wrong?” Scott says, taking a step toward her.
Ava braces her hands on her thighs as she draws in a ragged breath. “Lars,” she rasps. “He and Rick—they were following me.”
“Following you?” Scott parrots.
She nods. “The son of a bitch went to my house looking for me, so I ran. I cut across the old hay mill.”
“Then you don’t know for sure if they followed you,” I clarify.
Ava glares at me and tucks a loose hair from her ponytail behind her ear. “Let’s just say they were until they couldn’t any longer,” she deadpans.
Lars has always been a juvenile delinquent, bullying kids back in school, and he never grew out of it. I’ve seen him picking on Ava a few times over the years, though I never understood why he seemed to zero in on her.
“I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone.” Scott hands her a water bottle.
“Thanks.” She uncaps it quickly. “It was fine until he saw me walking by the gas station.”
Scott strides over to the front of the store, stepping over the debris strewn throughout the aisles from yesterday’s earthquake, and peers out the window. His hand still rests on his pistol like he’s braced for what’s coming.
“What does Lars Pennington want with you?” I ask, glancing back at Ava.
She throws up one arm with a final chug of water, then heaves a breath when she’s finished. “His dad hated Julio?” she guesses, licking her lips. “Lars’s mother abandoned him, and he was stuck with his shitty father while I had Mavey after Julio got locked up? I’m Mexican? I don’t have a dick? Who knows with him. Take your pick.” She discards her bottle on a broken shelf and eyes Scott.
He walks back to us, his gaze leveled on her. “Did he see you come here?”
Ava glances between us, and I can tell she wants to reassure us he didn’t, but she shrugs ever so slightly. “I don’t know,” she admits. “I mean, I didn’t see his truck after the hay mill, but he’s not an idiot. He knows I work here. Where else would I go?”
“Great,” I mutter, knowing Lars and his friends love nothing more than picking a good fight.
“I didn’t have much of a choice,” Ava snaps, misunderstanding my frustration as I head toward the back of the store for my truck. I knew I should have grabbed my gun. I’ve barely stepped onto the loading dock when I hear glass shatter inside the warehouse, feel a blunt hit to the back of my head, and I fall to the ground.