60
Hannah
Day One Hundred and Fifteen
“Sound the alarm!” Hannah said.
“I’ll do it!” Quinn volunteered.
“Go with her,” Bishop told Jonas. “Then meet us at the south blockade.”
“Everyone to their positions,” Reynoso ordered.
In her haste, Quinn knocked over a metal folding chair as she raced for the exit, Jonas at her side. Everyone was on their feet, reaching for weapons and heading for the front doors.
“Quinn!” Hannah called after her, her throat tight.
For an instant, Quinn paused and looked back.
Affection swelled in her chest for this fierce girl. She wasn’t a girl anymore. She was a woman. A fighter. Her AR-15 slung across her torso, pistol strapped to her side, her expression tough and determined.
Hannah said, “I’m proud of you.”
A flurry of emotions crossed Quinn’s face. She raised her chin and flashed a strained smile.
Then Jonas grabbed her arm, and they sprinted for the double doors, off to do their part to save Fall Creek.
It felt like trying to save the whole damn world. Like trying to hold back the raging sea with a flimsy fishing net.
Reynoso’s radio crackled. “Alpha Two, this is Echo Two.” One of the scouts—Mara Wright. “Bravo One couldn’t reach you. She had to bike three miles before I was in range.”
His expression tense, Reynoso brought the radio to his lips. “Go ahead.”
“Bravo One spotted movement at the Boulevard Inn. The General’s forces are readying transports and gearing up. They’re moving early. They’re coming now!”
Reynoso’s features hardened. “We’ll be ready for them.”
Bishop turned to Reynoso and clasped his forearm. “Godspeed, brother.”
Reynoso nodded “See you on the other side.”
A chill raced up Hannah’s spine. Fear for Liam filled her thoughts. Where was he now? Was he being tortured? Was he already dead?
Anxiety torqued through her. Her good hand strayed to her misshapen fingers. Once, her old destructive fear would’ve taken over, but not anymore.
She was fully present, fully here. Her mind was clear.
As the church bells tolled the call-to-battle alarm, she knew what she needed to do.
Liam’s fate was out of her hands.
For everyone else—what she did now could still make a difference.
She moved for the doors.
“Where are you going?” Bishop asked her.
“To get more help.”
“Hannah, you shouldn’t—”
She touched his arm. “Even with the Community Alliance, I fear it’s not enough. We need help. I have one last idea, but it has to be done in person.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re going to Hamilton.”
She didn’t have to answer; he saw it in her face.
She’d been trying to get ahold of Hamilton for the last three days. With the repeaters out, she hadn’t made contact. Liam had intended to go himself—but the Black Hawk attack had waylaid his plans.
Now, though, they were desperate. Now, they had no choice.
“It’s too dangerous—”
“Every person here is risking their lives. Liam is. You and Quinn. Everyone. I’m no different.”
“I should go with you.”
“You’re needed here. You know you are.”
“God forgive me.” Bishop closed his eyes and sighed. “What route are you taking?”
“I can take Shawnee Road. It’s out of the path of the General. If I take the ATV, I can use the old snowmobile trail to skirt the barricades and traps Liam set on Snow Road.” She hesitated. “I can do this, Bishop.”
Bishop drew her into a quick fierce hug. And then he let her go.
Outside, the chilly air bit at her cheeks. She inhaled sharply. The bracing air crystalized her thoughts, her purpose. The night was dark, the clouds thick and low. No stars anywhere.
She’d left Ghost and her children with Evelyn and Travis, who’d taken them to the high school bomb shelter. It was well defended and the safest place for Charlotte in case the General sent more men after her.
Before she’d left, she asked the question she’d dreaded speaking aloud: “If I don’t return, will you…will you take my kids? Will you keep them safe?”
Evelyn had gripped her bad hand in both of hers. “We will defend them with our own lives.”
Hannah knew it was true. It gave her a measure of peace—and motivation. People depended on her. People she loved.