Chapter 65 - Luna
I grip the steering wheel tighter, my palms sweaty despite the chill of the air conditioning I have blasting on high.
My eyes scan every intersection, every parked car, searching for my Jeep that Gigi took yesterday for gas.
The roads are mostly empty, but tension simmers everywhere that I do see people and most of the businesses look like they've been cleaned out by looters.
"Come on, Gigi," I whisper in frustration and fear. "Where the hell are you?"
I make one more slow pass down Main, my heart sinking with every block.
Nothing. No Gigi, no Jeep in sight, just the growing sense that something's gone horribly wrong. Frustration surges as I slam my hand against the steering wheel and bite back a sob. My throat tightens as tears threaten to turn the street into a blur. I blink them away and spot a cluster of dark green vehicles parked in front of the town’s small police station.
They look like military trucks. I slow the car, considering it.
They might have information, but there's a large crowd forming and it’s not friendly.
People are yelling, shouting, some people are screaming.
And soldiers, definitely soldiers, are forcing people toward the waiting school buses. My heart stutters.
Nope. Not going there. I gun it past the chaos and head home.
It’s worse when I turn onto our street. My stomach drops when I see the truck parked three houses down.
It’s another military vehicle and I gasp in shock when I see the soldiers dragging a man across his lawn.
It’s one of the men who broke into my house a few days ago.
He's resisting, trying to fight them off, but one of the soldiers slams a boot into his ribs, and another raises the butt of his rifle…
I can’t watch. Panic claws up my throat as I tear into the driveway and scramble into the house, slamming the door behind me.
I reach to snap the deadbolt and change my mind.
If they’re going house to house, taking people, they’ll just bash the door down and wreck it anyway.
I pull my hand away and leave it open so it looks like the house has been abandoned.
My mind races that I have to hide. I have to disappear, or they’ll be dragging me out next.
Penny dances at the back door, whining. She needs to pee.
I bite my lip. That might be the only way out.
I grab the shotgun, check the load, and sling it across my back.
Then I tug open the back door. Penny bolts down the deck stairs for the far corner, nose to the ground.
A yell has me turning my head to see Ms. Vallent from three houses down out in her backyard.
Our top deck is high enough for me to see more men with guns, dragging her toward her house.
Tulip, her small white dog, is barking at them with sharp, angry yips.
One of the men lets go of Ms. Vallent and swings his rifle around.
I press a hand to my mouth to stop the scream of anger from escaping when a gunshot rings out.
My knees go weak with relief when I see Tulip dart away and disappear under their lower deck.
Oh God, Oh God! I can’t let them hurt Penny.
I spin away from the scene and race down the stairs.
“Come on, girl,” I whisper, bouncing on my toes. “Come on, come on.”
She finally pees, then darts to the side, grabs her orange ball in her mouth, and trots to me. I give her a scratch behind the ears and crack open the back gate.
Damn it! There are more soldiers down the alley. I jerk back, heart slamming, but Penny’s already out the gate.
"Penny, no," I whisper-yell. She pauses, looking at me with the ball in her mouth and trots back, dropping it at my feet. I reach down and snatch it up. If the soldiers start to drag me away, Penny might try and guard, maybe even attack them. But they have guns and I can’t stand the thought of her being hurt, so I shake the ball at her.
"Get the ball, Penny. Get the ball."
I pull my arm back and throw the ball over the low divider into the ravine. It bounces and rolls down the slope.
Penny hesitates. She looks back at me as if asking, are you sure?
"Go," I hiss. "Get the ball."
She chuffs once, then bounds after it, jumping the thigh-high wire with ease and disappears down the hill.
I exhale hard, hoping it will take Penny a while to get back and that the soldiers will have moved on before she gets her ball and returns.
I slip back inside, closing the gate softly and then race back to the house, up the deck stairs, and back inside, and then fly down to the bottom level.
The guys’ gaming area is a mess of controllers and empty soda cans that I haven’t had the heart to clean up.
I quickly unlock the bottom slider doors to outside in case I have to make a run for it and then cross to the wood-paneled wall beneath the stairs and press the panel seam that blends in completely.
Click. The door opens, and I slip into the storage space.
It’s dark and cramped and dusty. The air smells like wood and fabric softener from the laundry room on the other side of the wall.
I pull the door shut behind me, but faint light seeps in from the narrow gaps above where the stairs meet the wall.
I crouch down, hugging my knees to my chest, shotgun balanced across my thighs. My heart hammers like it wants to escape from my chest. I force myself to take deep breaths, to calm down, and I slowly start to relax.
Then the door opens. I jerk upright, hands flying up defensively with the shotgun across my chest like a barrier instead of pointed so it could actually do something.
And I freeze.
Grey eyes meet mine. Eyes I haven’t seen in two years and the breath leaves my lungs.
“Mars?”