Chapter 8 #2
They hurried to the pharmacy. As soon as Holly saw them, she grabbed a bag from the stack. “Here you go,” she said.
Elena took the bag. “Thanks. Do you mind helping us with something else?”
The woman raised a silver brow. “Sure. If I can.”
“You know everyone in town. Have you seen any strangers hanging around recently? Maybe in the last few days? Big-city-type men who don’t look like they’re from around here?”
Holly pushed her glasses up on her nose. “No, can’t say that I have. Why?”
“We ran into some men up in the mountains and they seemed . . . out of place. It was odd.”
“It’s not exactly hiking season, and the unseasonably cold weather is keeping a lot of the winter tourists away.” She shrugged. “I haven’t noticed anyone, but I’ll keep an eye out.”
“Thanks,” Sully said. “Shoot me or Elena a text if you do.”
“Absolutely. I have both of your numbers in the system.”
Elena walked toward the door and Sully followed. “Dead end there,” she said.
“Seems like it.”
They stepped outside and nearly collided with Sheriff Rich Donovan, who was just coming up the steps.
His eyes landed on Sully. “Well, I’ll be.
Sully Sullivan. Good to see you, son.” His weathered face crinkled into a smile and his gray mustache lifted.
He’d been sheriff there for over twenty years and looked like he belonged on the movie set of an old Western.
He’d always been one of Sully’s favorite people. He gave the man a hug.
“You too, Sheriff.”
The man’s brows pinched together. “Everything okay out at the ranch? Nothing else has happened?”
“Everything is fine at the moment, thanks. We’re just here to get some meds.”
“Gotcha.” He nodded to Elena. “My deputy who took Elena’s statement about the attack mentioned you were involved somehow?”
Sully shook his head. “I just witnessed it.”
“I was reading it before I had to stop and pick up a prescription myself. I’ll finish looking it over when I get back.
” He hitched his belt in a decades-old habit.
Sully bit his lip on a smile. “I did ask around to see if there’d been any reports of the strangers you saw in the woods with the preppers, but nothing so far. ”
“Thanks for checking. Any word on who my attacker could have been?” Elena asked.
“Nothing yet. Not many strangers come through Whitestone without me knowing about it.” He planted his hands on his hips.
“I’ve got my deputies keeping an eye out, and like I said earlier, I’m increasing patrols in the area near the ranch.
And near the place you said someone attacked you.
I may even ride up to the prepper base and see what I can see. ”
“Thank you,” Elena said, “we appreciate that.”
Sully pulled out his phone. “If you see this guy, can you give me a shout?” He showed the sheriff the picture of the man Ollie had pointed out as involved with the mob.
The sheriff pulled his readers from his pocket and took a good look. “Haven’t seen him around. Text me the picture, will you?”
“Sure.” Sully’s fingers flew over the screen. “Appreciate it.”
“You betcha. Y’all be careful, ya hear? And holler if you need anything.”
“Will do. Thanks again, Sheriff.”
The man stepped around them and into the pharmacy.
Sully led the way to the sedan in silence, scanning the street and parking lot as they moved.
Thankfully, all seemed quiet at the moment, but he couldn’t get that black truck out of his thoughts.
They climbed in the car and Elena turned to him.
“At least the sheriff is now taking all this seriously.”
“You were attacked. That’s serious.” He cranked the engine.
“True. Too bad no one’s seen those men. It’s weird, isn’t it? This is a small town. If they’ve been here, even just getting gas, I think word would have gotten around.”
“Definitely weird.” He pulled out of the parking lot and headed down Main Street toward the road that would take him back to the ranch. The town soon gave way to winding mountain roads, with dense forest pressing in on both sides.
He noticed Elena keeping her eyes on the side mirror. “See anything?”
“Nothing.”
The black truck had spooked them both, but the road behind them was clear and he released a slow breath.
Elena was on her phone texting. “I’m checking in with Maya and letting her know we’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”
“Good idea.”
Her phone pinged. “Ollie’s not doing so great.”
He pressed the gas.
They drove in silence for the next few minutes and Elena let her mind spin back to a blip in time with Iris. They’d been at the new compound for only a few weeks and she hated it. She stared at her hands, remembering.
She had stooped to pick up another log, her fingers almost numb inside her gloves. The woodpile scratched her wrist, but Eleanor barely noticed. Her breath came out in little white puffs, disappearing into the fog like secrets whispered into silence.
Everything here was quiet. Too quiet. No laughter. No creeks trickling behind the house. No rustling from squirrels in the trees. Just rules. Schedules. Watchers.
She felt Iris approach before she saw her—her older sister’s footsteps crunching softly on the frost-crusted leaves.
“Cold morning,” Iris said, crouching beside her to gather a few small branches.
“Every morning’s cold here,” Eleanor muttered. “Even the ones that aren’t.”
They worked in silence for a moment, stacking the wood into a crude burlap sling. Eleanor paused, bit her lip, wondering if she dared say anything. But she couldn’t seem to stop the words from tumbling out. “Do you think we’ll ever go back?”
Iris hesitated. Her eyes, once full of spark and mischief, looked older now. Dimmer. “No. I don’t think they’re planning to leave. Not ever. At least Dad’s not. He seems happy. Empowered somehow.”
“He’s definitely different. He might seem happy, but he never laughs anymore.” Eleanor stared at the ground. The knot in her chest twisted. “I hate it here.”
“I know.”
“I miss the pine trail. I miss Old Man Fischer’s stories. I miss you.”
Iris didn’t say anything for a beat. Then she reached into her coat pocket and pulled something out—a crumpled page from Eleanor’s old notebook. The one she thought had been left behind.
“I smuggled this,” Iris said with a small smile. “Found it in my nightstand while I was packing. ‘Operation Mozzarella Moonshine.’ Remember?”
Eleanor’s lips trembled. They both loved mozzarella cheese. “I thought you threw it away.”
“Never. I needed something to remind me who I am. Who we are.”
She tucked the paper into Eleanor’s jacket pocket, pressing her hand gently. “We can’t laugh like we used to. Not here. Someone’s always listening. But we can still think. Still imagine.”
“But they’re changing you,” Eleanor said, her voice cracking. “They’re changing us. I can feel it.”
Iris’s jaw twitched. “Maybe. Maybe we have to change to survive.”
“I don’t want to survive. I want to live.”
Iris pulled Eleanor into a quick, fierce hug. “When things get bad, go to the mossy patch in your mind. You promised me, remember?”
Eleanor buried her face in Iris’s shoulder and nodded.
“Hold on to that,” Iris whispered. “Because we may not get out of here for a long time. If ever.”
The sound of the morning bell rang out across the compound—sharp, metallic, final. The moment was over. Iris pulled away first, slipping back into the role of obedient daughter.
But as they walked toward the cabin together, their hands brushed once—just enough to remind Eleanor that somewhere inside the walls of this harsh new world, her sister was still in there.
A shudder shook her, bringing her back to the present. So why had Iris run from her in the post office? Elena’s next look at the mirror straightened her spine and all thoughts of her sister fled. “Sully—”
“I see it.” His voice was calm, but his knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.
The scent of his woodsy cologne mingled with the leather upholstery in the confined space.
And why she noticed that was beyond her.
Maybe it was the heightened sense of danger that sent her into a hyperawareness of everything around her.
It was getting dark, but she could still make out that a black pickup had fallen in behind them and was closing the distance. She turned back to the road in front of her. The sharp curve ahead was the one that would lead them to the next turnoff for the ranch.
Sully took the curve fast, the sedan’s tires gripping the asphalt. They rounded the bend and Elena gasped. Another black pickup was directly in their path, blocking the road. Trees and mountains to their right. Drop-off to the left.
He slammed on the brakes while the truck behind them drew closer.
“We’re boxed in,” Elena said, struggling to keep her voice steady. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.
Sully released the strap that held his gun in his holster. “Hold on.”
His eyes met hers for a split second. She pushed down her fear. “What are you going to do?”
“The only thing we can do. I’m going to have to try to squeeze between the truck in front of us and the tree line. Looks like there are four of them. I can make out shadows in the front seats.”
Elena pulled out her phone and dialed 911.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“Julie? Is that you?”
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“It’s Elena Thompson. I’m on Highway 14 headed back to Broken Chains, and we’re being attacked by the drivers of two black trucks at the curve right before the turnoff to the ranch.
” She was proud of her calm voice even as she watched the gap in front and the one behind them close.
The taste of copper filled her mouth. She’d bitten the inside of her cheek.
“Dispatching officers now. Can you describe the trucks?”
“Hold on, Elena!”