With the sling in place, Lily relaxed and let the fabric accept the weight of her arm. “Better,” she admitted. “Much better.”
“Well, it’s no morphine shot, but it should help.”
A moment later, she swung open the door to the sleeping area and led Lily into another room shaped just like the first. This room had a kitchenette off to one side, with a table and chair and a small sitting area on the other side. Straight ahead was an open door, which led to a flight of stairs. Her uncle Rodney had an underground bunker like this, but his was smaller. More of a hidey-hole, as opposed to this, which seemed to be a full home buried underground.
By the time they made it up the stairs and through the final door, Lily was nearly shaking from exhaustion. Sweat poured down the back of her neck. Dawn opened the hatch door, flooding the passageway with light.
Blinking, she walked out into the sunlight. At least it was still day.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lily
Carter looked up when Lily entered the house, but his expression—dark and closely guarded—was impossible for her to read. Which was strange, because she’d gotten to know him pretty well in the past six weeks.
He sat, one of several men, at a table, but was the only one who held her attention for long. Dawn’s father, Mr. Armadale, was at the head of the table. There were a couple of younger versions of him—Dawn’s brothers, most likely—and a couple of men Armadale’s age who must have been neighbors or fellow townspeople.
She barely noticed any of them. Carter studied her for a minute and she felt very self-conscious. Strangely aware of how she looked. Aware of the borrowed hoodie she had on and the fact that she wore nothing underneath it, not even a bra. Aware of the sweat beading on her hairline, despite the cool weather. Aware, too, of the fact that she’d lost blood and her skin would look too pale, almost bluish, which she knew from the months on the Farm—where it was common to be down a couple of pints.
Just when she was starting to fidget and to feel faint, Carter stood and crossed to the door. Only then did she look around the rest of the room again. And felt faint for a whole ’nother reason. Every male at the table— except Carter—had a weapon laid out in front of him. They were mostly handguns. A few she recognized, like the Glock and the Smith & Wesson, as well as several she didn’t. Nasty-looking, little snub-nosed guns. A guy who looked enough like Dawn to probably be her brother had a rifle sitting across his lap. Armadale had two guns: the automatic handgun he’d shot her with and something with a sizable clip to it. Only the dark wood of the table had kept her from noticing the guns right off. They nearly blended in with the wood.
No one looked particularly happy to see her and unless she was mistaken, several hands were creeping closer to their weapons.
Carter stopped beside her, subtly putting himself between her and the others. He didn’t even look at the other men but kept his gaze focused on Armadale.
“We can go now.”
It was both a question and not a question. He was telling her and Armadale. Not asking permission exactly but letting Armadale know if he was going to stop them peacefully, now was the time to do it.
Armadale gave a tight nod and stood slowly. He angled his jaw to the side, scraping the backs of his nail across the stubble on his cheek.
“You kids keep to yourselves and I don’t see as we’ll ever meet up after this.”
Carter nodded. He didn’t move for the door, but Lily felt his hand on the small of her back exerting a little pressure, letting her know they’d soon be moving in that direction. Probably the second he knew for sure that Armadale wasn’t going to shoot them where they stood.
“You won’t see us again.”
Armadale nodded. “You stick to the towns north of here. There’s nothing for you south of Logan.”
They were almost to the door when Dawn stepped forward and gave Lily a quick hug. “One of each pill, twice a day, with food,” she whispered. “Keep the wound clean. If it looks bad, you find a way to get back here, okay?”
Surprised, Lily nodded.
More quickly than she could have thought, Carter was helping her climb into the truck’s cab. His jaw looked tense, but it was the fatigue around his eyes that tore at her heart. He didn’t look anything like the guy who’d come to rescue her from the Farm nearly two months ago. He looked . . . worn. Older.
She’d known, of course, the toll stress took on people. She’d seen it in her mother when her father had walked out on them. So, yeah, she knew. But she’d never seen it on someone her age. Never seen it this up close. She reached across her chest, trying to maneuver the seat buckle into place without jarring her arm too much then straightened to watch as he rounded the hood of the car.
She was hoping that once he calmed down and assured himself she was okay, he would pull her into his arms and hold her tight. Even though she was okay. Even though she was physically going to be fine, she wouldn’t feel okay, until that moment.
But that comfort never came. Instead, there was only a long stretch of awkward silence in which Carter drove and Lily waited. And waited. His silence stung so deep, she felt like she couldn’t breathe all over again.
Finally, not sure what else to say, she said, “Carter, I—”
But he didn’t let her get out more than that. “Jesus, Lily, what the hell were you doing on that supply raid?”
“There were things we needed.”
“You knew I didn’t want you going!”
“And you knew I wanted to go anyway. This shouldn’t be that surprising.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised that my girlfriend snuck around behind my back doing something that could have gotten her killed?”
“I never said I wouldn’t go out. The opportunity came up. I took it. And in my defense, I was watching for Ticks. There were no Ticks there at all.”
“Oh, I feel so much better now, knowing you were almost murdered by a human.”
“I’m the one who got shot. Why are you so mad at me?”
“I’m the one who had to watch you get shot. Jesus, do you have any idea what it was like for me watching you go down? It nearly killed me.”
“It did?” she asked softly.
Instantly, his posture relaxed. “Yeah,” he muttered. “It did.”
Just like that, despite the trauma of the day, despite her pain and the grief and the fear, despite all that, she felt better. Yeah, Carter had told her he loved her before, but it wasn’t something he talked about often.
She scooted closer to him and put a hand on his arm. “Well, now you know how I feel every time you go out on a supply raid.” He didn’t say anything and as the silence stretched taut between them, she changed the subject. “Well, they seemed . . .” But then she didn’t know what else to say so she tacked on a weak “. . . nice?”
Carter didn’t take his eyes off the road, but he cursed. “Jesus, Lily, are you kidding me?”
“Okay,” she admitted. “They don’t seem nice. They seem . . . prepared.”
“If that’s the polite way of saying they’re effing crazy, then yes, they’re
“I’m not trying to pick a fight here.”
“Then what’s your point?”
“Obviously this wasn’t an ideal situation, but it’s not all bad, right? We can use all the allies we can get.”
“Allies? Is that what you think? These gun-toting wack jobs are going to be our allies?”
“They’re within easy driving distance. Surely there’s someone in town with a satellite phone. We should have given them our number.”
