Waves of Fury (Surviving Earth Chronicles)

Chapter Thirty-One

Kellen

T yler has passed out, snoring loudly over the whipping wind and the rumble of the truck engine. Hope stares sadly at Tyler while Jesse and Wayne wear matching stony expressions. We’re all at our wits’ end.

Aaron cruises at a considerably fast pace—as though we can outrun the horror and tragedies we’ve faced thus far, especially our most recent ones. No matter how fast he drives, though, the pain keeps us noosed in a strangling hold.

How are Dan and Hailey doing?

Will they have the will to keep going?

If I lost Tyler right now, I’m not sure I would. I’m feeling defeated and so goddamn tired. Hope for seeing my brother one day almost feels silly and fantastical. A pipe dream that’ll never come to fruition.

I’m not sure how long we drive. It feels endless. Like we’re in a purgatory of pain and suffering. I know that’s not true, though. A tank of gas can only go so far. When the vehicle begins to slow, the numbness starts to thaw and dread creeps back in.

What will we face now?

Aaron comes to a complete halt and jumps out. He makes his way to the truck bed and says, “Roadblock ahead.”

None of us have the energy to fight. Again.

“I’m going to see if they will help us,” Aaron says slowly, waiting for anyone to argue. “We have to try at this point.”

No one agrees or argues, so Aaron gets back into the truck. Slowly, he drives toward the roadblock. When he stops again, I hear a man’s voice.

“State your business, sir,” the man says. “This town won’t tolerate any troublemakers.”

Aaron exits the vehicle. “Nice to meet you. Aaron. My family and friends have been through hell. Can your people help us?”

The man is silent for a moment, then rattles out in a gritty voice, “The name’s Harry. This guy here is Ryan. We’re both firefighters here in St. George. What sort of help do you need? We don’t have much in the way of food or supplies.”

Firefighters?

My gut lurches with hope but then quickly fizzles at the reminder Stovepipe Wells had cops in their group and they were up to no good.

“We’ve been traveling from San Francisco,” Aaron explains tiredly. “It’s gone. Completely drowned by the sea. I was lucky enough to have been on my boat when the tsunami hit. Rescued this lot from one of the high-rise buildings still sticking out of the water.”

“No shit?” the younger man, Ryan, asks. “That’s a helluva long trip.”

“A lot on foot,” Aaron continues. “We’ve lost a lot of people. Most recently, outside of Vegas, we lost a woman and her son to a sinkhole. Our group is beaten down and defeated. Any kindness will help. Please.”

The men are quiet for a moment but then the gritty man, Harry, speaks. “There’s a Motel 8 just beyond this roadblock. It’s meant to be a place to catch your breath for a day or two before moving along. A visitor’s station if you will. We have volunteers who can offer minimal first aid and medical care. Water is still working, but power is out. There’s a cafeteria set up at the fire station. We can offer one meal a day to newcomers, but that’s it. I’m sorry, but that’s all we have.”

After the time we’ve had, a nice, safe haven with a couple of promised meals sounds almost too good to be true.

“This isn’t a trap?” Aaron asks. “We’ve run into some unsavory folks. A lot of them.”

Harry grunts. “Same, brother. I sure hope you didn’t pass through Stovepipe Wells. We’ve taken in a few people who barely escaped with their lives over there.”

“That would be us, too,” Aaron admits. “I think they’re capturing women to do God knows what with. It’s more of a prison camp than a safe haven. We got away from them by the skin of our teeth.”

“Sounds like you guys have a lot of information,” Harry says. “How about this? We put you up in the motel and then we can trade information for some supplies. You’ll need it when you leave in two days.”

Is it too much to hope for them to keep us indefinitely?

“I can’t thank you enough for your kindness, Harry. We’ll tell you everything we know. Dan, there in the truck, is a dentist. He just lost his wife and son, but I know he can help out if anyone needs their teeth looked at. I owned a deep-sea fishing and bay tours company. We may be a ragtag group, but I’m sure we can offer help in return for your graciousness.”

Soon, the engine starts back up again and we pass by the two men standing guard at St. George. Harry, a burly, massive man, meets my gaze as we drive by, pity in his expression. I know we look like hell.

Aaron drives over to the Motel 8 and parks in an open spot. By the time we all start climbing out, a heavyset woman with gray hair pulled into a severe bun waddles out of the front office. She speaks on a radio for a moment and then offers a smile of greeting.

“Harry says we’ve got guests,” the woman says. “I’m Florence. I don’t own this motel, but I’ve been on the Chamber of Commerce board for years. They’ve appointed me to run this post. Rooms one, three, and seven are available. Fresh linens, some bottled water, and a few snacks are provided. There’re also toiletries so you can clean up. If you leave your dirty things outside your door, someone will be around this evening to collect them and give them a washing.”

“Thank you,” we all mutter out pitifully.

“We do what we can,” Florence says. “Harry wants to meet for breakfast to exchange information. He said to meet in the motel office. Then, for lunch, you all can go down to the fire station for a hot meal. Something tells me it’s been a while since you all have had one of those.”

The last hot meal I had was forever ago and I got sick from it.

After we figure out the bed situation between the rooms, me and Tyler take the king-sized bed in room one. Aaron and Hope decide to stay with Dan and Hailey in room three with the two double beds, and Wayne and Jesse take the last room. As if in a trance, me and Tyler strip out of our clothes and gather all our dirty ones from our bags. While he starts the shower, I peek out the door and drop them in a heap. I’m not keen on leaving my clothes in someone else’s care, but in this moment, I have no energy left to fight. By the time I reach the shower, steam fills the small bathroom.

Inside, I find Tyler quietly sobbing.

This brings tears to my own eyes. I gather the filthy man into my comforting embrace and try my hardest to assure him everything will be okay.

I hope he believes my lies because nothing is certain in this world.

Nothing.

As promised, our clothes are clean and neatly folded by our room door the next morning. Because we can, me and Tyler take another shower. We’re both too beat and somber to get frisky and settle for holding one another. Once dressed and ready to face the day, we head outside to find Aaron, Hope, and Wayne standing just beyond our door.

“How are Dan and Hailey?”

Hope frowns. “They haven’t stopped crying. We told them to stay inside and rest. Jesse is going to watch over them while we meet with Harry.”

My gut twists painfully. If I feel like my world might literally end if I lost Tyler, whom I’ve known briefly in comparison, I can only imagine how Dan and Hailey are feeling losing half their family.

Aaron leads the way with Hope at his side. Tyler falls in step beside me as Wayne trudges behind us. The motel front office is bustling with people. When I smell something savory—cheese and eggs—my stomach grumbles.

Harry, another man with a gray goatee, and Florence are all seated at a table that’s been placed in the center of the room. In the middle of the table is a carafe of what I pray to every god in the universe is coffee. There’s also a basket of muffins and a tray of breakfast sandwiches.

He only promised a hot lunch, though.

Harry, upon noticing our starved expressions, chuckles and waves a hand at the spread. “Help yourselves. This is a business breakfast. Not part of your one meal a day promise. Sit. Feed yourselves and whatever’s left over, take back to the others in your group.”

Tyler doesn’t have to be told twice, going straight for a breakfast sandwich. He tosses one to me and I’ve barely gotten it unwrapped before devouring half the meal in one bite. The salty, savory flavors explode in my mouth, making me groan with pleasure.

While we eat, Harry introduces the other man. “This fellow here is our mayor, Jared Snead. Jared’s held this town together while the rest of the country falls apart. We owe him a debt of gratitude for his quick thinking and ability to act to protect our town.”

We all turn our gazes to the serious man who eyes us with an unreadable expression. I give him a nod but don’t try to talk over the mouthful of sandwich I’m trying to swallow. Florence begins pouring coffee into cups and passes them around to us. I wash down the dry crumbs of the biscuit with the hot, bitter coffee.

Heaven.

I’ve never tasted anything so delightful in all my life.

Once I’m feeling less like a starved animal and more like a civilized human, I make my way over to Jared and shake his hand.

“We can’t thank you enough for taking us in when you did.” I gesture at my group. “We’ve nearly died more times than we can count. It’s been a rough couple of weeks.” Or months? Hell, maybe it’s just been days. To be honest, the entire journey has run together in a blur. Sadly, I’m unsure how much time has really passed, which is jarring to me.

“Sit,” Jared says. “We’ll discuss what all you’ve endured.”

For the next hour, we stuff our faces with muffins and coffee until we’re all looking a little green. We regale the St. George trio with our travels. They all listen with rapt attention, only interrupting to clarify something or ask more questions. None of them judge us for stealing cars, food, and supplies.

“Hello,” a chipper voice says, entering the office. “I’m a local EMT here. My name is Amy.”

Amy, with her strawberry-blond hair and bright smile, enters the room with a small child in tow. She squats to whisper to the child, who then runs over to the table to sit beside Florence, who’s waiting with a muffin for her.

“That’s Cora. She was found wandering outside St. George a few days ago,” Amy says as she sets her bag on the table. “She doesn’t ever leave my side. I promise she’s well-behaved.” Then she scans our weary group. “Who needs medical attention?”

My gash to the side feels like eons ago, so I don’t raise my hand. Tyler grunts and points at me and then Aaron.

“Kellen here got speared by metal in a high-rise building. A bullet grazed my brother Aaron. I’ve treated both their injuries the best I could, but I’m no professional. Just a delivery guy with a first-aid kit.”

Amy eyes Tyler with appreciation. He’s hot as fuck, even tired, beat down, and depressed. She clearly has eyes and sees everything I see in him. Because I’m feeling possessive, I place a hand on the back of his neck and squeeze lightly.

“Don’t let him sell himself short. He’s my savior many times over.” I flick my gaze over to him and wink. He smirks, but his cheeks redden slightly at the compliment. “I couldn’t do this without him.”

I don’t come right out and say it, but the insinuation is there. Mine. Tyler is mine. Sorry, Strawberry Shortcake.

She smiles kindly at me and then points at Aaron first. “Let’s take a look at the gunshot wound.”

Aaron’s wound looks pretty nasty, but she quickly cleans it up, redresses it, and forces antibiotics down his throat. While I wait, Hope and Wayne gather the rest of the food to take to the others. They’re going to bring Hailey back so Amy can check out her mouth injuries.

All the while, Florence, Cora, Jared, and Harry all watch us with rapt attention. We may as well be aliens for how interesting they find us. It’s apparent that they’ve had their fair share of people passing through, but aside from lack of electricity and dwindling food supplies, life has continued on for them without much of a hitch.

These people haven’t lost those they love and care about.

They haven’t had to outrun marauders, lightning storms, and deadly sinkholes.

Not one of them seems to have missed any sort of meal.

Cora, though found wandering, still bears the childlike wonder and easy smiles found in most kids her age. For that, I’m grateful. Silas’s smiles were stolen long before his life was. Hailey and Jesse have been forced to grow up in a short amount of time. Even our damn group dog is traumatized.

Speaking of Pretzel, I hear him yip and howl, announcing his arrival in Hailey’s arms. She doesn’t meet the eyes of anyone here as Hope slowly leads her over to Amy.

“Do you have anything soft to eat?” Hailey asks, a soft lisp now present. “It hurts to eat.”

Florence and Amy both react similarly and at the same time, the two of them rush over to the slight girl to fuss over her. Florence sets off with the promise of some pudding cups while Amy tenderly holds Hailey’s face in her palms, tearfully inspecting the injured girl.

Tyler sidles up beside me, nudging me with his elbow. “How’s your belly reacting to this meal?”

I feel full. Fuller than full. Stuffed like I ate three Thanksgiving dinners one after the other. What I don’t feel is nausea, or worse, like I’m going to have the shits. Again.

“All good,” I say with a sheepish grin. “You?”

“Great.” His smile turns devilish. “Hope it stays that way until…”

Tonight.

He means tonight. When we’re clean, fed, safe, and tucked away in a soft bed. I feel the stirrings of anticipation in my groin at what this might mean.

Sex?

We’re going to actually get to have sex?

He leans in, hot breath tickling over my ear. “While Amy checks you over, I’ll see what sort of supplies I can round up.”

“It’s a date,” I say with a barely suppressed, needy growl.

This has been the most stressful, exhausting time of my life, but it’s also somehow been the best. Because of Tyler. If anyone can bring me a ray of hope in an eternally dark world, it’s him.

Tyler.

Mine.