Survive the Panic (Nuclear Survival: Southern Grit Book 3) Page 11

  Dan nodded like he’d been there. “Used to be an angry drunk myself.”

  “What changed?”

  “My wife died.”

  Grant blinked. He didn’t know Dan ever had a wife. “When?”

  Dan glanced up at the ceiling. “Ten years ago next month.” He smiled at Grant with sadness in his eyes. “She was the best thing that ever happened to me, but the cancer was a real bitch. I started drinking when the tests after surgery showed the doctors failed to get it all.”

  He sipped some more liquor. “It did me in. I’d get mad, break stuff, scream at no one and everyone.”

  Grant knew the feeling. The few times he’d been drunk in his life he felt like Dr. Bruce Banner trapped in the body of the Hulk, just without the green skin or incredible muscles.

  “When Kristy died…” Dan paused and cleared his throat. “There wasn’t anyone to be angry for anymore.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Dan waved Grant off. “It’s been a long time.”

  “But you still miss her.”

  “Every damn day.” Dan threw back the rest of the glass and set it on the table. “How ’bout those peaches?”

  Grant stood up. “I’ll get them. Maybe Leah’s rustled up something else by now, too.”

  He found his wife in the kitchen, crouched in front of a metal shelf. “Anything good?”

  She jumped and hit her funny bone on the counter. “Grant Walton, one of these days.”

  “We’re going to find a wonderful place to settle down with a great big bed and I’m going to do terrible things to you all over it.” Grant slipped his arm around Leah’s waist and pulled her close. He couldn’t imagine ever losing her. He kissed her lips before pulling back.

  She smiled. “You okay?”

  Grant nodded. “Just a little tired.”

  “I think we should sleep tonight and search for gas in the morning. You need the rest.”

  “I can keep going.”

  “Not forever.” Leah reached for Grant and he let her pull him back into her arms. “Besides, I hear those motel room beds are pretty bouncy.”

  “Mrs. Walton, what has come over you?”

  Someone behind them cleared a throat. Grant turned around. Susie stood in the kitchen holding an armful of chips, crackers, and candy. “Sorry to interrupt.”

  Leah rushed up and relieved the other woman of her burden. “Where did you find all this?”

  “The manager’s office is also the storeroom for the vending machines. There’s a ton of soda, too.”

  Grant exhaled. “Thank goodness. Now Dan will have something to add to the whiskey.”

  “Let the poor man have a night off. He needs the break. So do you.”

  Grant didn’t have any interest in taking a break. He knew Leah meant well. Being married to a nurse meant he was constantly reminded about how best to take care of himself. But right now, all Grant wanted was a full gas tank so they could hit the road at morning’s light.

  If they wasted all morning searching for gas and set off in the afternoon, the Buick would overheat and they would have a repeat of today. He ran a hand through his hair. “We need to leave first thing in the morning so Dan’s car won’t overheat. I need to find gas tonight.”

  Susie set down the rest of the chips on the counter and smoothed back her hair. “I can come.”

  Grant tilted his head. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “I know how to siphon gas.” She smiled at Grant’s shocked face. “I wasn’t always this granola. If you look really closely you can still see the scar from my nose ring.”

  Leah giggled beside him. “Come on, hon. Let Susie come with you. Give Dan the night off.”

  Grant exhaled. “Okay.” He turned to Susie. “Can you find the gas cans? I’m going to grab a soda and we can head out.”

  Susie took off for the motel room with all the gear and Grant turned to his wife. “Be careful here. Dan’s three sheets to the wind and Oliver’s wrapped up in his computer. I don’t like leaving you as the only one on watch.”

  Leah leaned forward and kissed Grant on the cheek. “I’ll be okay. Besides, no one’s here. As long as we stay quiet, I don’t expect any visitors.”

  “We didn’t expect a truck to come barreling into our neighborhood, either.”

  “I’ll be okay. I promise.”

  Grant squeezed his wife’s hand. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “And then you’re going to bed.”

  He grinned. “Yes, Nurse Walton.”

  Chapter Twenty

  GRANT

  Marietta, Georgia

  Tuesday, 8:00 p.m.

  Susie sat on her side of the Buick, not saying anything while Grant drove to the car dealership. Unlike the lot where Dan and Grant lifted the Cadillac, the Jeep, Buick, Chrysler dealership sat full of shiny, oversized paperweights that would never run again.

  Grant pulled into the lot and killed the headlights as he navigated to the largest concentration of trucks. “We can hide back here. The pickups are tall enough to conceal the car from the street.”

  Susie nodded. “They have the biggest gas tanks, too.”

  As Grant put the vehicle in park, Susie uncoiled a loop of tubing they pulled off the dehumidifier in the motel’s office. She hopped out and headed over to the closest truck.

  While Grant grabbed two empty gas cans that Dan dug out of his garage, Susie fed the tube past the truck’s fuel valve and down into the gas tank.

  “So where’d you learn to siphon gas?”

  Susie worked up a bunch of spit in her mouth and blew all the air from her lungs. She shrugged as she bent toward the tube. “Can you give me some light?”

  Grant clicked on the flashlight and lit up the empty tube. Susie wrapped her lips around the clear plastic and sucked until a rush of gas flooded the tube. Then she pulled back and stuck the end of the tube in the gas tank and they both watched as the tank filled with gas.

  “Gas tastes so nasty.” Susie shuddered and spit a wad of phlegm on the ground. As the tank filled she answered Grant. “In a prior life, I was a juvenile delinquent.”

  Grant started. Susie the quiet gardener? He couldn’t believe it. The tank Grant was holding reached capacity and he swapped it out for the second one. “Did you ever go to jail?”

  “Juvie.” Susie covered her throat with her hand. “Twice for possession. Never anything violent.”

  “Wow.” Grant didn’t know what to say. All this time, he’d pegged Susie as a straitlaced hippie who never saw the rougher side of life. “So when you shot that guy?”

  She cut him a glance. “I was terrified. I might have been into drugs, but I never did anything like that. We were kids.”

  She shuddered and Grant wished he hadn’t said anything.

  “Every time I close my eyes, I see him punching Leah and then lunging for her with that look on his face.”

  Grant clenched his fist. “What look?”

  “The I’m-going-to-kill-you kind.” Susie rubbed at her shoulder. “I’ve got a nasty bruise from it, too. Whenever I forget what happened, then I move or bump it, and the memories come flooding back.”

  Grant reached out a hand and Susie flinched. He held it up in apology. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” She shook out her hands and rolled her shoulders. “I’ve just got to get used to it, right?”

  Grant wished he could say no, but the reality of the future they faced was grim and bleak. “Probably.”

  While Susie watched over the second tank, Grant hustled the first tank back to the Buick. He poured it all in and came back just as the second one filled. They swapped and he did it again, filling the car’s fuel tank to capacity.

  After switching to another truck and filling up again, they had two gas cans of fuel and a full tank of gas. Grant capped the second gas can and Susie pulled the tube from the tank.

  “There’s enough gas here to keep us going forever.”

  “A good long while, at least.”
Grant took both cans and hoisted them into the trunk. “Too bad we aren’t staying.”

  Susie hesitated at the passenger-side door. “Do you really think we’ll find out more at the college?”

  Grant weighed the odds. “Yes and no. But it’s somewhere to go that isn’t here. And it’s farther north.”

  “Why does that matter?”

  Grant managed a small smile. “Canada’s way bigger than the United States, has a tenth of the population, and hasn’t lost power.”

  Susie stared. “You want to go to Canada?”

  “It’s an idea.”

  “Oliver said the same thing, but Leah didn’t seem convinced. She said the border would be swarmed.”

  Grant’s brow knitted. Leah and Susie already talked about where to go? He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was all the same. Leah hadn’t wanted to leave home until she had no choice, but being a nurse, she always planned for the worst.

  Usually he agreed with her, but not this time. He shrugged. “I think the border is enormous and Canada doesn’t have enough military to police it.”

  “So you’re advocating sneaking in? Becoming illegal immigrants?”

  Grant winced. When Susie put it like that, it sounded terrible. He hauled himself up into the cab and waited until she climbed in as well before starting the engine. “I don’t know. For now, let’s focus on Kennesaw State. If we can connect with the outside world, we can figure out what to do and where to go.”

  Susie nodded and lapsed once more into silence. Grant didn’t know what to make of her. She had the capacity to make tough choices, that much was true, but she didn’t seem to want to. Maybe the safety and security of her adult life stole the part of her that put up a fight.

  Grant backed the car out of the spot and headed back toward the road. He clicked the headlights on and backtracked to the motel. As they neared, he slowed. A light bounced around a second-floor window. Grant turned off the headlights.

  “What’s wrong?” Susie sat up and squinted at the motel.

  “See that light?” He pointed at the circular beam that rolled across an upstairs window and around a hotel room wall. “That can’t be one of ours. We’ve already checked all the rooms.”

  “Maybe Oliver’s looking for some equipment.”

  Grant shook his head. “No. That’s someone else. I can feel it.”

  Susie shivered in her seat. “I don’t think I can do this again.”

  Grant pinned her with a hard stare. “You don’t have a choice.” As he brought his eyes back to the motel, Grant rolled down his window. He stuck his head out, listening.

  No noise.

  Damn it. He eased the car forward and parked behind a closed Burger King next door. He grabbed the shotgun from where he’d stashed it under the seat and handed it to Susie. “Take this.”

  She stared at it in horror. “No.”

  He shoved it closer. “You have to. You might need it.”

  Her head shook back and forth like a bobblehead on a dash. “I can’t. I can’t do that again.”

  Grant pressed his lips together. Now wasn’t the time for a freakout. “Susie. I need your help. Leah, Dan, and Oliver are in there. We need to go, now.”

  She sat in the passenger seat, frozen and unmoving.

  Grant cursed and tried again. “Do you want someone to shoot you?”

  Her eyes flicked up. “No.”

  “Then take the damn gun. Defend yourself.”

  Susie reached out and took the gun. It shook in her hands and she handed it back. “I can’t. Just leave me here.”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “Take the gun. Go save them.” Susie’s wide eyes stayed trained on the shotgun.

  Grant took it back. “You can’t stay here. If someone finds you, who knows what will happen.”

  Susie wrapped her arms around herself and looked out the window. “Go. Please.”

  Grant didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t leave her there, but he couldn’t waste any more time. At last, he opened the door. “Come with me and hide. At least then I’ll be able to hear if you get in trouble.”

  He hopped out of the Buick and held out his hand. After a moment, Susie slid across the bench seat and clambered down. Grant squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

  Together, they took off for the motel and Grant hoped they weren’t too late.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  GRANT

  Foothills Motel

  Marietta, Georgia

  Tuesday, 10:00 p.m.

  Grant ran toward the rear of the motel, tugging Susie along behind him. He stopped at a set of stinking dumpsters filled with weeks’ worth of garbage. “Stay here.”

  She shuddered and gripped her upper arms. “What happens if someone comes out?”

  “Hide. Hopefully no one will look for you near the trash. It smells disgusting.” Grant held out the shotgun one more time, but Susie shook her head.

  He frowned and took it back. “I’ll return as soon as I can.”

  “What if you don’t?”

  “Assume I’m dead.”

  Susie eased down to the ground, tucking herself between the dumpsters and the brick wall. With her jeans and long-sleeves, she blended into the dark. Grant sent up a silent prayer. If Susie stayed put, she might be all right even if Grant didn’t fare so well.

  He tucked his Shield into the holster and patted the extra magazine in his pocket before checking the shotgun. Three shells. It would have been better full, but three gave him something to work with. One shot with a 12-gauge and most people went down. Better to use the shotgun first and the handgun as backup.

  The door to the rear of the kitchen loomed ahead, but Grant avoided it. He couldn’t walk into a dark building with no idea who was in there or what was going on. However much he wanted to burst in guns blazing, he needed to be smart and patient.

  Skirting the edge of the building, Grant kept below the windowsills and tight to the shadows, hoping to catch whoever was inside off guard. As he neared the motel office, voices materialized out of the hum of flying insects and chirps of cicadas.

  “Once we find them, whatda we do with them?”

  “Beat the shit out of ’em. Then find the keys to the truck.”

  Grant fumed. He wasn’t even a day away from his house and already someone was trying to take what he had. How could they make it all the way to Kennesaw State? And once they did, how long could they stay?

  Would every day be another battle? Would they constantly have to keep eyes and ears open and expect the worst?

  He crept closer. A brick held the door to the lobby open and the smell of smoke wafted outside. So far, he’d heard two distinct voices, but he couldn’t count on that being all. Stucco adorned the lower half of the exterior lobby walls and Grant eased forward until he crouched beneath the first window.

  With the shotgun ready, he risked raising up enough to see inside. A handful of men stood in a circle, dim shapes in the dark. One took a drag on a cigarette and turned to blow out the smoke.

  Shit.

  Even in the moonlight, he could make out the mane of dreads. The man Leah called Mr. Unicorn thanks to his ridiculous mask stood in the center of the group, pointing and giving orders. Grant spun around out of sight.

  How had they found them? He thought back to the night before when Mr. Unicorn and the other man disappeared. They must have had a second car.

  But Grant didn’t until the morning. Did they wait for them all night in the neighborhood and follow them out of town? It was the only possibility.

  Grant pinched the back of his neck. What a fool I’ve been. If I’d been more careful, or if I’d done a better search, none of this would be happening.

  Turning back to the window, Grant squinted into the dark, struggling to see. Four other guys hunched together, but Grant couldn’t make out much more than their size. One scrawny guy kept shifting back and forth like he had to take a piss or was too cold to stand still. A big guy stood as still as a bould
er, never once moving or tilting his head.

  Slipping back down beneath the window, Grant thought it over. Could he take them all at once? Five men versus a shotgun and a 9mm. If they weren’t armed, he had a chance.

  He gripped the shotgun tight. I could finish this right here. Grant sucked in a breath, prepared to try, when the leader spoke again.

  “Tito, hand ’em out man. Don’t be stingy. Errebody gets a piece tonight.”

  Grant’s bravado deflated.

  Mr. Unicorn kept talking. “Hold up. Let me do it. You’re always fumblin’ around like a meth head without a fix.”

  Grant took a chance and raised back up. The men shuffled toward Mr. Unicorn one at a time as he handed out the weapons. “Dom gets the 12-gauge, Ace and Rocky get the Glocks, I get the 1911, and Tito you get the 20-gauge.”

  “Ah boss, why I gotta get the sissy gun?”

  Without hesitation, he reached back and smacked Tito across the face. “How about no gun and I use you as target practice?”

  Tito took the shotgun and eased back.

  Grant dipped below the windowsill once more, a silent curse on his tongue. With that many guns, he couldn’t take them on all at once. He’d have to isolate them and pick them off one by one. It would be slow and dangerous.

  He had to have faith that Leah and the rest of them could hold on that long.

  Faith. At the thought of the little dog’s name, pain lanced Grant’s heart. He hoped like hell she was safe in the gear room and not out there where she could be hurt. One swift boot to the side and she would be a goner.

  Grant slipped back into the corner of the building where the darkness gave him cover. Moments later, the door to the lobby opened. Two men in hoodies walked out and headed toward the rooms.

  He checked his watch. 10:30 already. Leah and the others had to be back in the rooms, sleeping off the last few days. He scrubbed his face. If the two goons heading that way found them first, it would be over before it began.

  I can’t let that happen.

  Grant loped after the two men, adrenaline and fear coalescing in his heart. If Leah was asleep or not paying attention, she could be ambushed before she even had a chance to react. She would be dead before she even knew what hit her.