Try Hard: a post-apocalyptic thriller (180 Days and Counting... Series Book 7) Read online

  She wasn’t worried, or freaking out. Instead, a tremendous calm washed over her. A van followed them and she didn’t care, probably because she’d watched everyone in her life die. What was the worst thing that could happen at this point?

  Scott glanced at her and then past her in the rearview mirror. “We can’t take them to the house. Bailey, Jessica, and Jason are too vulnerable and we don’t know what they want.” His voice was calm with an underlying edge. “I think we need to keep in mind that we’re not the only people out there and that this is a time of lawlessness and true freedom. People can do whatever they want, if they have the fire power and the energy to do it.”

  Cady nodded beside him, her face pale. Beth studied her friend. She seemed weak and tired with shadows under her eyes and a gauntness to her face like she hadn’t eaten solidly in a few days. Why hadn’t Beth noticed how her friend looked at the house? The state she was in wasn’t something that could be attributable to a few minutes of anxiety.

  Beth would have to find out what was going on with Cady when they weren’t being chased by someone. “What are we going to do, if we’re not going to Cady’s?” No one answered and Beth sank back to her seat.

  That’s what they were both so tense about. Beth understood now. For a minute there, she couldn’t help thinking there was something sexual between Cady and Scott. Now she realized it was nothing physical between them except escaping the van and keeping their living family members alive.

  Beth didn’t want to think only about herself, but she couldn’t help wondering, if she had gone through the death of her children, killing her husband, surviving some semblance of the virus, only to be chased down by some van and then killed or who knew what?

  Had she escaped hell itself only to die in the woods? She hoped not and yet at the same time, she wasn’t sure she cared.

  Chapter 8

  Bailey

  Cold air rushed around Bailey, ushered in by the split in the door panel. It was like a vacuum had been created, sucking the outside air into the house because of Jason’s maniacal destruction. Bailey could stop the air from moving, but she had to close the window.

  There was no way that was happening.

  Bending down to grab Jessica, Bailey soothed the child and leaned up to tuck her in her plastic bassinet outside the window. There was a flat spot just outside the window that Bailey could probably secure Jessica to. She wasn’t sure, but it might hold her for a few minutes. There was a huge chance that the baby’s box would slip off the roof and fall to the ground.

  Was that better than facing Jason?

  Jason pounded on the panel right over the weak spot where the door was splitting and letting in the cold air. The splintering sound was loud in the silence after his hit.

  Glancing out the window, Bailey realized she would never have enough time to get Jessica outside. The baby was exhausted and didn’t seem to mind the loud noise any longer as she was tucked into the portable bed with blankets tightly pressed around her and her pacifier in place to sooth her.

  Bailey didn’t have time to get Jessica out the window and secured to the roof. She glanced around the sparse interior of the bathroom, discouraged that there weren’t more hiding places. After less than a second of decision, she tucked the baby under the rear side of the toilet, the plumbing making it difficult to see the clear plastic tub but not making it impossible to pull her out when Bailey needed to. The white blankets camouflaged the bedding behind the white of the tank.

  Bailey wasn’t sure who she was praying to, but she offered up a plea to anyone who would listen that Jessica would stay silent so Jason wouldn’t know to search there for her. Bailey needed Jason distracted by Bailey so he wouldn’t focus on Jessica’s whereabouts for the time being.

  Bailey turned, kneeling on the toilet to look as if she was putting the baby outside. Redirection – she had to convince Jason that Jessica was outside. A fine layer of perspiration broke out on her skin, even with the cool air swirling past her. She bit her bottom lip to keep from sobbing out loud. What was she doing? She had to pull it off. She had to get Jason to follow her onto the roof and leave Jessica behind.

  Jason’s banging continued and the corner of the door broke away, revealing half of Jason’s face.

  Bailey paused, glancing back at the sudden silence. He had stopped hitting the door, and leaned close to the panel, peering at her with one eye, his grin sadistic as he spotted her. “I’m coming, Bailey.” His laugh and whisper brought her breathing to a pant. Her heart rate sped up, increasing until she thought she would pass out.

  He ripped at the door with his bare hands as if he didn’t care about large splinters or anything at all getting in his way. He was past the point of caring and that terrified Bailey more than if he’d been filled with anger or fear.

  Bailey reached with both hands for the window ledge, ready to launch herself outside and lead Jason away from Jessica. She pushed off from the toilet, ducking her head as she pushed through.

  Get him outside. Get him outside.

  Halfway through the window, Bailey shrieked as Jason’s hands wrapped around her calf and yanked her back inside. When had he gotten through the door? Her side hit the edge of the toilet tank and knocked the wind out of her. She twisted herself so her butt landed on the lid and her back took the brunt of the impact on the tank as the rest of her fell back inside.

  Bailey reached behind her with shaking fingers and gripped the butt of the gun as it just barely stuck out from her waistband. She pulled it from her pants, holding the weapon behind her back. She couldn’t just pull it out. What if Jason reached to take it from her? She didn’t even know if she was in a position to shoot him… or if she could.

  Jason laughed as Bailey pleaded, holding the gun behind her back. “Please, Jason, no. no.” Her sobs shook her as she gasped to reclaim the air that had been knocked from her lungs. She moved her feet, trying to catch more traction on the linoleum floor to keep her from slipping closer to him.

  She couldn’t focus. Was she in a good position to take aim at him? She pleaded in her heart that he wouldn’t force her to shoot him. She cared for Jason. The last thing Bailey wanted to do was to hurt him. He was sick. She knew that. She knew he wouldn’t be acting like this, if he weren’t sick. But knowing it didn’t keep her safe. Knowing how he would be without the virus, didn’t make him healthy or safe to be around.

  Bailey would shoot him, but she desperately didn’t want to. She had to fortify her ability to shoot him. How was she going to be able to do that? She had to shoot him. She had to…

  Lifting her eyes, she blinked, trying to ignore the hot tears coursing down hers. “Jason… Please…” But the man staring at her wasn’t the boy she had a crush on, he didn’t know her or the baby or even who he himself was.

  This Jason had black liquid leaking from his nose, mouth, and eyes. His breathing was jagged and raw. He scanned the bathroom, searching for Jessica.

  Lifting his head, his eyes twitched as he tried to focus. Something shifted as he met Bailey’s gaze. His face softened and he dropped his tight grip on her leg.

  He blinked, the maniacal expression lessening. His voice sounded almost normal as he spoke pleadingly. “Bailey. Help me.” What did he beg for? Did he beg for forgiveness? Was he asking Bailey to help him feel better, find Jessica, or something else?

  Unfortunately, Bailey couldn’t trust his pleas for help – not if he still wanted to destroy the baby. Plus, she didn’t know for sure, if he was making a play to get her to relax around him.

  No, Bailey knew what he was asking for… she just didn’t want to do it. The sadness and fear in his eyes convinced her she had to try, for him. She nodded, tears stinging her eyes as they came on full force. She raised her gun, arms shaking as she gripped the butt of the weapon.

  Her whisper broke the silence. “I’m sorry, Jason.” Bailey’s finger slipped behind the trigger guard, where you only put your finger when you’re ready to shoot. She kept her gaze traine
d on her friend. He deserved to know he wasn’t alone.

  Bailey pulled the trigger.

  Boom.

  Boom.

  Boom.

  Chapter 9

  Scott

  Beth wasn’t hiding that she knew, so Scott had no reason to whisper or keep his thoughts to himself. They all had something at stake and he needed to make sure his fatigue didn’t keep him from making the right decisions.

  He moved his gaze from the road ahead to the rearview mirror in a constant sweep, back and forth, back and forth. What if he missed something? What if the van sped up and hit his rear bumper?

  Gauging the movement of the van was difficult as its lights stayed fairly the same, even as Scott sped up. They seemed to move like they anticipated his acceleration or braking.

  Scott fast approached Diagonal Road. He wouldn’t be able to slow down to take the turn or he’d risk letting them know where he was going with plenty of time to adjust their speed. He held his voice steady, even as a slight panic started to twist in his gut. “We need to lose them on the back roads. I can probably go places they can’t. It looks like an Econoline and not the four-wheel drive versions.” Scott didn’t use his blinker to turn. “Hold on.”

  The momentum of barely slowing and taking the corner wide pushed them all to the left in the rig’s interior. Beth gasped and slid across the makeshift seat they’d put in for her. Scott hadn’t grabbed his backseats from his garage when he’d returned from his parents’ place.

  Absently, Scott was surprised the bench seat was adequate for Beth. She seemed more like a high-maintenance girl than Cady. She hadn’t complained about anything and she’d gotten the raw end of the deal with the death of her family and a complete uprooting.

  Scott pressed the gas harder, his speed climbing as they hit the open straightaway running parallel to the railroad tracks. While they had room to speed up and try to get away, the van had just as much opportunity to try to catch them.

  “Are you going to try to lose them before Clagstone?” Cady gripped the handhold above her door and studied him. Not a trace of fear could be seen in her eyes. Scott admired the determination furrowing her brow.

  He nodded tightly. “Yeah, we need to get away. The faster I go, the more gas I burn, but I think I can pull ahead enough to get as far as the state land and maybe lose them in there. I’m not sure, but I hope it will work.”

  “Why don’t we pull over and shoot them?” Beth sounded cold, like she didn’t have any regard for human life anymore, if she ever did. Scott didn’t know her well enough to assume one way or the other. Shock affected everyone differently and Scott had a feeling that when Beth came out of it, she was going to lose her mind.

  He cleared his throat and considered her suggestion to shoot the people in the van. “It might come to that, but I’d rather not kill anyone, if I don’t have to.” Scott had already killed and he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to escape the guilt of that act. He avoided Cady’s gaze. She still thought she was the only one who had killed anyone. What would she think of him when she found out he was a baby killer?

  Beth shrugged, her movement in Scott’s line of sight as he watched the van in the distance. “It’s not as hard as you would think.” Beth rubbed her nose and met his gaze in the mirror, hers defiant as if she didn’t care what Scott thought about her actions or what she’d said.

  “I think it’s extremely difficult.” He narrowed his gaze as if to tell her osmotically that killing shouldn’t be easy and he knew it wasn’t. Something passed between them and she inclined her head as she twisted her lips to the side.

  The straight road took a fairly sharp left turn at the end of it. If you weren’t familiar with the area, the turn came out of nowhere, even with the orange reflective signs with arrows guiding the way.

  Scott turned, not stopping at the stop sign at the Brunner intersection. “We need to lose them. If I catch a chance, I might duck down one of the side roads.” But he didn’t really want to. Going down a residential side street put them in someone else’s territory. If there were people alive, they wouldn’t take kindly to trespassers. In that part of the state, most people owned guns and weren’t afraid to use them.

  Approaching Seasons, Scott glanced behind him. They were still there. The van had fallen behind, but doggedly followed them and could still see where Scott had driven. He wouldn’t be able to lose them on the straightaways. He had to try on state land. That was the only option he had left.

  Why were they so determined? Did they think Scott and his passengers had food or medicine? Nothing else was worth that type of persistence.

  Two miles up Clagstone and Scott took a left onto Highway 54. The last five-hundred yards of Clagstone were surrounded by fields, leaving their direction viewable as Scott turned north on an unmarked dirt road.

  He’d been in there four-bying before on his four-wheeler, but never in his rig. If Scott remembered right, there were some high center points and low ditches throughout the fifty-acre parcel. Cady’s place wasn’t too far past the state land. If they could lose the van in there, they could get home and hide in the myriad of trees and other homes in the area.

  The early spring melt-off would have softened the road in spots, making it easy to get stuck for any vehicle – even four-wheel-drive ones. Scott had to be careful himself.

  Scott planned to use the area to his advantage. “Hold on, things are about to get bumpy.” He downshifted, grateful for the four-wheel drive.

  Glancing at his fuel gauge, Scott smothered a groan. They had less than a quarter tank left. The backroads connecting the state land parcels could go for miles and they still had to get home. They were close to Cady’s, but if he was using gas to lose the van, who knew how much he’d have to get them back to where they needed to be?

  Going directly home wasn’t an option with the kids there. Following them as closely as they were, the van’s occupants weren’t acting like innocent people. They were behaving as if they wanted something and they were willing to do whatever it took to get it – including waste gas as they followed someone around the country.

  That was fine. Scott respected their need to provide for themselves and even admired their tenacity. But the people behind him were sorely mistaken, if they didn’t consider that Scott was prepared to defend the people in his own rig no matter the cost.

  Chapter 10

  Margie

  The freeway was empty like everyone else in Washington knew something Margie didn’t.

  Kelsey had lied and Margie couldn’t bring herself to talk to her directly. The woman was still hiding something and Margie didn’t know how to make her tell them. She had a sinking sensation in her chest that whatever Kelsey was keeping from them, it wasn’t over.

  How did she talk to Kelsey about it logically without screaming at Kelsey? Margie didn’t know, so she kept her mouth shut.

  Not to mention, the further they drove, the more fidgety Kelsey became. Her constant leg jostling and nail-biting was driving Margie insane.

  They were all tired, beyond tired, and the fast bites of food they were able to get just weren’t hitting the spot. Margie’s late husband, David, used to say there was nothing that kept morale up more than a homecooked meal and Margie was hoping in the next few hours that they’d be having that at Cady’s.

  Although, if Margie really was honest with herself… did she really expect to make it back to Cady’s in the new few hours? As long as Kelsey was with them, she didn’t see how that was possible. Kelsey was too much of a liability and Margie didn’t know how to tell her that.

  If Margie kept Kelsey with them, there would need to be some changes. Part of her wanted to drop Kelsey off on the side of the road and continue on with Ryker. Another part of her knew that wasn’t logical since they were driving in Kelsey’s car. That alone was keeping Margie from screaming at Kelsey and kicking her out.

  But the reality of it was, she would have to get over her dependence on vehicles sooner or later. Ga
s wasn’t going to be available forever. That presented a whole new perspective and she wasn’t ready to ditch cars all at once. It wasn’t like an EMP had gone off. No, she was dealing with a lot of dead people which had frozen the free world. Were countries that didn’t rely on cars and electricity as bad off as America was?

  For the short time being, Margie had to remember there were other cars and other options besides staying with Kelsey. She had choices, she just had to make sure she and Ryker were in the best position to make them.

  “When was the first time you rebuilt an engine with your dad, Ryker?” She’d maintained a running commentary with the teenager for the last hour or so while Kelsey had stewed beside her. Every once in a while Kelsey would interject by asking a question or commenting herself, but Margie ignored her.

  If Kelsey wasn’t going to answer Margie’s questions, Margie wasn’t going to give her the time of day. It might sound infantile, but at that point, Margie had more at stake than worrying about Kelsey’s feelings. The woman was hiding something and Margie didn’t care if it was as simple as telling them where a piece of gum was. Secrets were harmful and Margie wasn’t having it.

  Ryker chuckled. “My first one was when I was five. My other siblings didn’t like cars and sometimes it was all my dad talked about. I went outside with him and he handed me a wrench and I’ve been hooked ever since.” He looked out the window, then met Margie’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Do you think cars will stop working after this?”

  Margie twisted her lips to the side. Did she? “That’s a good question.” She considered the answer. Just what was this? And how had they gotten trapped in the middle of so much death and loss? “Honestly, I don’t know. I’d like to think we will pull out of it, that there will be some semblance of society restored, but it won’t be on the scale that we once knew. There just aren’t enough survivors for that to be possible.” Although, how did she know? She’d found a couple survivors in a small town. Odds were that there were more around.