“Screw them,” Chet growled. “We already know they're hypocrites. They just want an excuse to destroy and terrorize while pretending they're the good guys.”
Ben shook his head. “You know, I actually felt sorry for Jay back when he crashed our campsite and told his little sob story. Now, I just want to find him and break a few bones.”
Chet pushed to his feet with an angry grunt. “I'd say we shouldn't sink down to their level, but honestly I'm glad we're patrolling so I might have a chance to get him in my sights.”
“Too bad Nick missed Jay when the guy tried to sneak up on us.” His brother gathered up the photos then also pushed to his feet, glaring around their ruined home. “Well, whatever damage those SOBs are going to do is mostly done, unless they burn the place down. And we can't spend all our time guarding here 24/7 when Dad and Aimee and everyone else are back at camp, in danger. So should we go?”
“In a minute,” Chet said. “I could use a second.”
Ben nodded and headed for the front door. “Take your time.”
Chet went the other way, through the kitchen. It had similarly been trashed, forcing him to pick his way over the kindling Jay's thugs had made of the dining table and chairs to get to the mudroom.
The back door was still locked and apparently undamaged, confirming the looters hadn't got in this way. He pulled it open and stepped outside, closing it behind him as he looked at his mom's garden, cleared in preparation of spring planting she'd never get to now.
Gritting his teeth, he turned back to the door and stared at the knob, so familiar and innocent-looking. He'd turned it thousands of times in his life, going in and out, and in all that time it had helped keep his family safe.
Until it killed them.
Chet almost wasn't aware he'd been searching for a rock until he ripped one up from the loose stone wall running alongside the garden. Then, screaming his grief and helpless fury at the world, he smashed the rock into the doorknob with all his strength.
It dented and warped slightly, but proved to be surprisingly strong. At least until he smashed it again, then again. Over and over again, screaming the entire time.
By the time he was done the door had splintered free of the jamb, the doorknob a shapeless blob in the ruined wood. Chet stared at it, chest heaving, and abruptly dropped the stone as shame replaced his anger.
Hadn't their house already been trashed enough? Now it would be open to the elements and pests on top of all the other destruction it had suffered, and he had no one to blame but himself for that.
Struggling to get his breathing under control along with his anger, he did his best to close and secure the ruined door. Then he shoved his hands in his pockets and headed for their truck.
Ben was leaning against the front of it when Chet circled back around the house to the driveway. His brother didn't say a word about him going berserk, just silently climbed into the passenger seat and picked up his rifle to cover them on the return trip.
Chet climbed behind the wheel, feeling drained and sick to his stomach, and started the engine. “We'll have to let Nick know Jay's ransacking houses in the surrounding area,” he said. He tried for casual, but his voice was ragged and shook slightly.
They radioed ahead to let the Zolos survivors patrolling the area around Stanberry and its quarantine camp know they were coming; a smart precaution, since everyone was jumpy after the recent firefight that had left a man dead.
Thankfully it had been one of Jay's thugs and not any of their friends, but even so the town and camp had been shocked that things had gotten to this point.
The survivors' camp was quiet at this time of morning, between breakfast and lunch. While everyone was doing their best to stay busy, and there were certainly plenty of things that needed to be done to protect the camp and ensure their all survival, there were more hours in the day than things to do, and plenty of idle hands to distribute the labor among.
The scavengers' camp, so named in spite of the fact that they weren't scavenging anymore, and also that they'd almost tripled their number with family and friends, was quiet, a lot of people out working or on patrol. Nick probably had a lot of them out on the western side of town, patrolling the section he had responsibility for.
Chet was relieved to see that his dad and Aimee were at the fire, at least. His dad was washing up the breakfast dishes, while Aimee read a picture book to Nick's daughter Tallie as she kept an eye on a pot of something or other over the flames.
The sight of his girlfriend immediately took the edge off Chet's fury; even gaunt and weakened after surviving Zolos, she was beautiful. Not least because she always glowed with a tireless optimism that inspired him to keep going no matter how bad things got.
As she looked up and smiled at him in greeting, he felt a surge of some emotion he couldn't easily describe. He should tell her how much he loved her, how much he needed her. Losing their families to Zolos had been crushing, but if he'd lost her, too . . .
Well, he didn't know what he would've done. Whether he would've even been able to continue.
“What's wrong?” Aimee demanded, smile fading as she noticed their expressions. “What happened?” In her lap Tallie looked between them all with wide eyes.
Chet started to answer, then had to swallow a new surge of fury. Ben glanced his way and then answered for him. “They trashed our
