He met Allison in the middle. She leapt into his arms and he enveloped her in a huge hug. Tears streamed down from her red-rimmed eyes. She wheezed for breath, and Matthew finally had to release her. But when he saw the fear on her face, Matthew’s own dread ignited inside his stomach. “What’s wrong?” he asked as she tried to catch her breath. “Allison, honey, tell me what’s wrong.”
Allison gasped for air and pointed back the way she’d come. “There’s some guys…with guns…”
“Where’s your mother?” Matthew demanded, hating that he sounded as if he were angry. He gripped her shoulder. “Allison, tell me where your mother is.”
If something happened to Kathleen…
“There was a van with food and supplies in it,” Allison panted and coughed. “These bikers were raiding it. One pointed a gun at Mom. She told me to run and get help. Dad, I’m so sorry, but that’s what she told me to do!”
“Are you okay?” Matthew demanded.
“I’m fine, but Dad, I left Mom with them. They’re a mile down the road. Who knows what could have happened!” Allison’s face was marked with distress.
“I’ll get her. Stay here,” Matthew said and gripped the shotgun tighter.
Allison nodded weakly and braced her hands on her knees. “Dad, be careful.”
Matthew didn’t stick around to hear anything else. Adrenaline surged within him. His wife was in grave danger. She needed help. She needed him. He ran, and it felt as though his feet flew over the road. Far too soon, his thighs burned with the exertion, and he tasted metal in the back of his throat. His lungs ached. He might have walked all the way from Madison, but he wasn’t used to full-on sprinting. Only the thought of Kathleen kept him going. At this point, Matthew knew all too well what awful things could happen. What awful things people who were pushed could do if their survival depended on it. It made him feel sick.
Matthew’s sweat coated the smooth handle of the shotgun. He kept it close and propped it up under his arm as he rounded a corner and the white delivery van came into view. Allison wasn’t wrong. A group of bikers stood close to it in a semi-circle. He could make out Kathleen in a heated argument with another member of the group, a man with a leather jacket decorated with a lot of patches. Relief zinged through him seeing that his wife was still standing and for the most part unharmed.
The rest of the bikers were focused on their argument. For a moment, Matthew caught sight of a gun in Kathleen’s hands. Matthew slowed and planned to approach carefully, but then he spotted a member wearing a paisley bandana slip his hand into his back jean pocket. He pulled out a switchblade, and flipped the blade out discreetly behind his back. Panic rushed through Matthew. The man widened his stance. His gaze seemed fixated on Kathleen.
Matthew didn’t have time to think. His wife’s life was in danger. He came to a stop and pulled the shotgun up to his shoulder. He aimed at the man and pulled the trigger.
The shot seemed to echo over the mountain like thunder. Matthew momentarily lost his hearing, though it soon came back with a low whine. He heard screaming. The man dropped the knife to clutch at his shoulder as he fell to his knees. Blood seeped from between his fingers. Matthew flipped the safety on and ran toward the man to make sure he couldn’t get the knife back again.
The man with the paisley bandana reached for the weapon and cried out in surprise when Matthew kicked the knife away from him. That cry of surprise quickly turned to one of pain as Matthew stomped on the man’s fingers. The man clutched his fingers under one arm and stared at Matthew with a mix of rage and hatred. Other members of the biker gang lunged for their fallen friend and pulled him to safety, surrounding him as though they could be a protective wall.
The man with the leather jacket that Kathleen had been arguing with looked shocked and horrified. “Don’t shoot us. Christ, please, stop shooting! We haven’t done anything wrong!” he yelled.
“Kathleen, come here,” Matthew said. Kathleen looked dazed, but inched closer to Matthew and away from the bikers. He glanced at her and felt his heart sink. He couldn’t believe how pale she looked. Was it because he’d shot someone? Her eyes seemed wide and focused only on the leader of the biker gang. Her handgun looked steady in her hands.
“We weren’t hurting anyone,” the man in the leather jacket said. Matthew began to sense the stirrings of rage behind his fear. “We were just trying to get some food and supplies when this crazy woman started waving a gun at us. I swear to you, we didn’t mean any harm, just don’t hurt us—”
“Shut up,” Matthew said. He felt like the situation was spiraling out of his control. “You don’t need to say anything else.”
One of the women who were bent over the man Matthew shot stood up. “We don’t want anything from you except to be let go peacefully,” she said and gestured to the vehicle. “If you want it so bad, you can keep it. Just let us go. Take it and you’ll never see us again.”
Matthew looked to Kathleen to see if she had anything to say. Dark circles dulled the skin underneath her eyes. Her face had an unnatural sickly pallor to it as if she had a fever. She looked unwell. Matthew knew he had to get his wife out of this situation and somewhere safe. He took a deep breath and nodded to the woman. “Agreed,” he said, keeping the shotgun leveled at the bikers.
For a moment, he could see how he and Kathleen looked to the bikers, as though they were the threat,
