Page 82 of Waves of Fury

He shakes his head, a panicked look on his face. “People. The bad kind. They’re headed this way and already shot out the windows on the front of the building. We have to go. Now.”

I yank on the rest of my stuff and am out the door in the next few seconds. Tyler thrusts the shotgun at me and races out the door. The rest of our group groggily exits their rooms, but we’re all already hurrying along the sidewalk, hoping not to run right into more bad people.

A figure bolts out of a stairwell in front of us and I barely manage to get my shotgun up before Tyler shoves it back down.

It’s Aaron.

“This way,” he hisses, pointing north. “They’re coming from the south side. We have to move!”

Wayne yanks a hobbling Judy onto his back while Dan drags a coughing Silas quickly behind them. Jesse has a protective arm around Hailey who hugs a trembling Pretzel, with Hope hot on their heels.

Aaron darts off ahead, rifle at the ready, searching for threats before our group can encounter any. When he reaches the edge of the building, he peeks around the side, scans the area, and then turns around to motion for us to move faster.

Wayne runs like a football player, charging full steam ahead. We all rush after him. Aaron waits until Hope, the last of our group passes, to put himself between her and the other group.

We have a good head start, but once we hear shooting behind us, panic sets in. I can hear the report of Aaron’s rifle so close I’m nearly deafened. The smoke grows heavier as though Wayne is taking us right toward the fire. I want to scream at him to go in the other direction, but I know it’s in an effort to lose them.

I just hope it isn’t a fatal mistake.

Pretty soon, we’re all coughing and staggering in the thick smoke.

Someone—Tyler—grabs my bicep that’s holding the shotgun. “Take Hope’s hand. Everyone stay together.”

Hope’s hand is clammy in mine and I squeeze it tightly. The pace we’ve set out on is steady, but we won’t be able to keep at it for long. Silas’s coughing grows more intense and a nervous trickle shoots through me. We need to get him away from this smoke.

Something scrapes against my side and I realize it’s another building. I bump off it and nearly lose my footing. More shots can be heard and then Aaron roars.

“Aaron!” Tyler booms. “What happened?”

“I’ve been hit. Fuck, I’ve been hit.”

Tyler jerks me forward until I can see Dan in front of me. I give him a quick nod before he disappears to go find Aaron. My gut twists violently with worry.

We seem to be zigging and zagging through buildings and cars, some of which are smoldering. The coughing from our group grows more intense. It’s not until I gulp in a lungful of cold, less smoky air that I realize we’ve made it to safety.

From what we’ve seen thus far on our travels, it appears we’ve encountered yet another national park or wildlife range here in the desert. Though we won’t find supplies, we will at least be away from people since they’re every bit as awful as the weather events.

At least the earth is softer here and not so hard like it was when we were in Death Valley. It’s a bit marshy, in fact.

“We have to take a break,” Tyler says, panting from exertion. “We’ve been going for hours. I need to look at his gunshot wound.”

Everyone stops and all but collapses to the mushy ground. The shower I’d stolen seems as though I took it years ago, not hours. I’m already sweaty, smokey, and now my pants are covered in mud.

Aaron, face pale, allows Tyler and Hope to sit him down. I watch intently as Tyler unearths supplies from his pack. Hope whispers assurances to Aaron while stroking her fingers through his filthy hair.

They’re definitely an item. It’s crazy to me you can still find time and energy to be attracted to and care for someone even when the world is literally falling apart around you. I know I certainly have.

Hope helps Aaron take off his shirt. It’s cold as fuck and he shivers uncontrollably. Tyler inspects a bloody mess on his left arm. Everyone is quiet as he starts cleaning it, ignoring the hisses of pain from his brother. Judy thrusts a bottle of water at me.

“I filled them up at the hotel. Drink.”

Grateful for the water, I gulp it down. Well, almost. I save half of it for Tyler.

“Thanks,” I whisper, voice raw from smoke and exertion.

As Judy hobbles around, doting on the group, spending extra time with her kids and Jesse, I focus back on Tyler.

“I don’t think the bullet’s lodged in there,” Tyler states, relief in his tone. “I could push around to see—”

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