Cage needed to get out of here.
As the crowd pulled back, releasing the stranglehold it had on Boomer and Bob and their large red truck, Cage had an idea.
The truck was empty now. They had space.
Pushing forward himself, he pressed into the opposing rush of the crowd, he fought to catch the truck. It was like running in Jello.
“Bob! Boomer!” he yelled over as many heads as he could, grateful when he managed to get one brother’s attention, if not the other.
“Hey!” Boomer lit up as he spotted Cage, recognizing one of their earlier rescues. “How you doing?”
As Cage got close, he realized the plaid shirt was the only way he could tell this was Boomer and not Bob. If they changed clothes, he was going to be screwed. He left Sarah and Deveron to catch up and ran to meet the man who’d helped him before. “Where are you headed next? I was curious if my friends and I could catch a ride?”
The two brothers looked at each other cautiously, obviously not used to being a taxi service in this scenario.
Cage held his breath. The chances the truck was going near their house were slim to none, but he needed to get to their car if they were going to have any real chance of searching for his sister.
Boomer rattled off, “We’re headed over toward Horton.”
“That's us!” He tried to keep his voice calm, but Cage found it hard not to jump forward, grab the door handle, and shove himself into the backseat without an invitation.
His friends had caught up and Sarah had caught on. She quickly rattled off the address of Desperado’s Hideaway. “You don't need to get us there. Honestly, if you can get us even a little bit closer, that would be great. We can hitch the next ride until we get there.”
Cage felt his breath catch. Sarah might not be safe hitchhiking, but the three of them together? In the middle of a disaster? They should be okay.
“We're likely going to end up close to there,” Bob said, still sitting behind the wheel, leaning over and talking out the open passenger window. He tossed a sharp glare to his brother that Cage couldn't decipher. But he added, “We're here to help. Getting you home and to a car is helping.”
Boomer took his brother’s decision as gospel and opened the back door, waving the three of them into the backseat before climbing in himself. It was Bob, one hand on the wheel, elbow perched on the back of his seat, who turned around and made himself clear. “We're not trying to drive you home, though. We’re running a rescue mission, and it may take several hours to get close to your place, depending on who we find when we stop and what help they need. But having extra hands would be a blessing.”
Caged nodded. It had to be faster than walking.
Two hours later, the trio had helped the brothers rescue five people.
The first was a woman by herself, who’d woken up in the ditch with no idea where her car or her toddler twins were. She’d done a search for the car, but her memory was too faulty to make that worthwhile for the group. She climbed into the back after being convinced that the best chance of finding her children was getting to the community center.
A short while after that, they found a family of four wandering the street. After peeking out of the cellar where they’d ridden out the storm, they had discovered their house was reduced to matchsticks. They, too, would be headed to the community center,
When they came upon a third group to rescue, Cage counted a cluster of close to ten people. The brothers set everyone up to do a quick medical triage, and Cage now bandaged cuts and splinted limbs like a pro. Sarah—using only her one arm—acted as his assistant.
But as they'd finally managed to get everybody toward the truck, he realized it was full.
“We're turning around,” Bob announced. “Heading back to the community center. If you want to head home, this is closest we're gonna get you.”
Cage wanted to offer a curt nod and simply say, “Understood.” But that wasn't enough.
Instead, he reached out and shook Boomer’s hand, and then reached for Bob. “I can't thank you both enough for pulling us out of the ditch, getting us to the community center in the first place, and now getting us close to home. We have people to find, too.”
“Well, you do your part,” Bob reminded the three of them as though they were schoolkids reminded of an assignment. “Keep sending people in to the community center as you find them.”
It was a stark reminder that they wouldn’t simply find Joule and be done.
Cage nodded, but in another two minutes, Boomer and Bob had done a fifteen-point turn, maneuvering the big truck into the other direction and tailing it back toward the community center.
The three watched as the truck maneuvered slowly around some obstacles and simply rolled over others, but once it was mostly out of sight, it was Sarah who declared, “All right. Home should be over that way. I think we're about two miles away.”
As they made the first steps, Cage wondered what they would find when they got there.
32
“Mmmrrrwow.”
Joule’s head snapped around.
The sound was plaintive, worried.
“Kitten?” she asked into the air and then watched as the grass rustled. She stood still until the tiny black head and bright blue eyes appeared.
Jesus, it looked scared.
It occurred to her then that the kitten had simply needed to use the restroom; it wasn't leaving her. Now, obviously, it was afraid to leave her.
“Come here, buddy.” She used her softest voice and knelt down. Putting her hands out in front of her, she waited. He was still a good ten feet away and she decided that, if he came to her, that would let her know what the kitten really wanted.
She didn't have to wait
