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

  She wouldn’t be able to do anything like that, if Jason caught her. He was bigger than she was and more agile.

  Why hadn’t her shots hurt him or at least slowed him down? She searched him for a sign that his wounds at least bothered him. It was like she’d missed him completely with how he was acting. But the bright red on his skin and shirt proved he’d been shot. He continued moving, like he wasn’t bleeding.

  Bailey glanced over her shoulder toward her escape route. Looking back at the boy she’d had a crush on since he’d arrived, she furrowed her brow and called out. “Jason, you’ve been shot. You need to rest.” Maybe she could appeal to the boy inside, the one who had emerged long enough to beg her for help.

  She needed to do something and fast. Bailey couldn’t run across the roof to get where she needed to be with the ice patches all over. As fast as she could might not be fast enough. She had to hope Jason wouldn’t follow her so quickly or Bailey would never make it. If she didn’t make it, then Jessica certainly wouldn’t.

  Jason let go of the building and held his arms out like a balancing act. He stepped toward her, not watching where he was placing his feet. Bitter anger kept him stiff and seemed to fuel his anger. “You shot me. I just want to save us from that thing. Don’t you see?” His eyes rolled wildly and his gaze landed on Jessica’s portable bed. His eyes widened and fury put a red spot in each cheek even as his skin paled from the lack of blood.

  Jessica cried and Bailey shushed her softly, unsure what to do with Jason so close.

  “Give me the gun, Bailey. You’re not going to shoot me again.” Jason moved closer, uncaring when he half-slipped. He caught his position as if he didn’t even know there was ice beneath him.

  Bailey watched him. He’d reach her in a minute, if he continued coming at her – she had no doubt about that.

  The stretch of ice between them was thicker two steps from his current spot and he would hit the larger patch, if he didn’t look down and watch where he was going.

  How could she distract him? How could she hold his attention so he didn’t look down? Just waiting was taking too big of a chance. She pulled out the gun and held in loosely in her hand. Shifting, she moved baby Jessica out of his sight by leaning her shoulder against the vinyl-sided corner and resting the bassinet on her right thigh which angled to lean on the other side of the corner.

  Holding up the gun in her left hand, Bailey offered, “Here, I’ll toss it to you. But you can’t keep chasing me. You have to stop, okay?”

  Stopping mid-step, Jason’s eyes lit on the weapon and he nodded frantically. “Yes. Give me the gun.”

  Gripping the butt tight, Bailey made a motion as if she were throwing it toward him, whipping the gun through the air. Instead of letting go, she held on tightly, pulling it back and tucking it in her pants before he could see it again in her hand.

  The fake-out worked and Jason lunged forward to grab the weapon in the air, as if it sailed toward him. As he grabbed at air, anger darkened his features, but his foot hit the ice and his ankle twisted. He scrabbled with his hands for a handhold, but there was nothing to hold onto.

  His knee crumpled and he fell to the side, rolling from the roof and landing on the bed of rocks below. The sickening thud as he landed at least told her he’d hit.

  Bailey didn’t wait to see if the virus gave him super human strength to walk from the rocks. She shifted her stand and pulled Jessica close to her chest. The bassinet wasn’t going to work much longer. Bailey really needed to convince Cady to find a baby carrier.

  Going back to the bathroom wasn’t an option with the dangerous pitch to the roof and the extra ice along that way. Making her way to the lean-to roof and then down to the table went relatively fast. Bailey wasn’t sure if she should go inside, or if she should hide somewhere else.

  Jason’s death wasn’t guaranteed and she didn’t trust that any injuries would keep him from coming after Jessica. She had to hide but she also had to stay warm and keep Jessica safe. The baby would need to be changed and fed again soon.

  As the sun sank lower in the sky, the chill in the air picked up as if searching for a way to chill her skin through the jeans and long sleeve shirt she wore.

  Getting them to a safe and warm place had to be top priority, but the house wasn’t an option. Bailey glanced regrettably at the back doors of her home as she hurried from the deck. Where would she go?

  She couldn’t go too far or she’d miss when Scott and her mom got home.

  If they ever got back.

  Chapter 13

  Margie

  Margie and her group had taken the second exit into Ritzville, coasting on the last dregs of gas down the ramp and slowing to a stop half a block from the grocery store and gas station.

  The way the gas and store were situated gave Margie a sense of déjà vu since the layout reminded her of Easton. This time, though, she wouldn’t be pulling up and leaving her husband behind to himself.

  Goosebumps broke out over her arms at the memory. Could she have stopped him, if she’d gotten out of the gas station? Could she have watched him die in the car as they headed toward Cady’s?

  Maybe. Maybe not. But that experience, that choice, had been taken from her by Kelsey. Margie’s trust waned in the face of Kelsey’s many secrets. There were too many, and so far, Margie wasn’t sure Kelsey had told them all, because why was a nuclear fallout a secret?

  The afternoon light cast long shadows across the empty road way. Dead street lights protruded from the ground like whispers of what had been. How long had it been since normalcy? Not more than a few weeks for civilization to disappear. Not violently, not with riots or chaos or even desperation. No, humanity had faded with the appearance of a fever and a rash as each person had been faced with their own immunity, their own health. Their end had come in the privacy of their bedrooms, on their couches, or even in a hospital bed.

  Ryker yawned, breaking up Margie’s musings. “Do you think we can push the Rabbit?” He stretched his arms to the side.

  Margie didn’t look at Kelsey. “We can push it to the side of the road, but it’s worthless, if we don’t find gas for it.”

  “We can find gas. I don’t want to leave my car.” Kelsey set her jaw, determined to keep her stake on something, keep her power attached to what the car represented. She didn’t have anything else that she could claim with a certainty. Her stake on the car was strong and undeniable.

  Well, Margie had no problem letting her keep the car. She could stay with it for all Margie cared. Didn’t Kelsey see that the importance of vehicles was transient? There was no guarantee they would continue to work. There was no guarantee they could get gas at the next place.

  Looking up and down the empty street, Margie chewed on her lower lip. What was she going to do? Did they all go in search of items together? Just sitting there in the car left them in the open like sitting ducks. They were vulnerable, if there were more people out trying to survive.

  Wasn’t that eventuality inevitable? Wasn’t it exactly what they had proven with their own survival? The men who had stalked the gas station, they hadn’t died from the sickness, so there would be others out there.

  Margie glanced at Ryker in the rearview mirror. He wanted to get out. She could see it in his eyes.

  Making a snap decision, Margie turned to Ryker. “Grab your backpack and your stuff. We’ll hide our things and go in search of either gas or another car. Something. We can’t sit here anymore.” And just like that Margie wasn’t going to come back to this car. Not for anything.

  Kelsey gasped, the loose flesh of her jowls shaking with indignation. “What? Leave me here?”

  Margie faced Kelsey, her face tight. “You just said you weren’t leaving the car, Kelsey. I’m not sure what you want me to do? Force you? That’s not happening.” If Kelsey chose to stay with the car, then she made the decision for Margie and that was more than fine with her.

  Climbing from the car, Margie used the keys to unlock the hatchback
and pull out the bags she’d packed for herself with the blanket and pillow. There was no way she was leaving behind her orange medical bag, no matter how much Kelsey might fight her for everything in the vehicle.

  Surprisingly, Kelsey didn’t say a word as Cady passed the window with her keys, tossing the ring inside to Kelsey. The jingle of the keys as they flew through the air left Margie feeling spiteful but also validated and more than a little liberated.

  Kelsey didn’t say anything as she stared straight ahead.

  Ryker fell into step behind Margie, the scuff of his tennis shoes amping up Margie’s paranoia. She’d been too lackadaisical. His life was her responsibility and there she was just nonchalantly walking down a major thoroughfare in the middle of the afternoon with no thought toward protecting herself. She pointed to their right, half-ducking her head as they walked faster. “Come on, Ryker. Let’s get to the back of that store and we’ll leave our stuff in that brush.” A collection of dried landscaping bushes softened the look of the hard lines of the building.

  Ryker picked up the pace, matching Margie’s steps as she hunched her shoulders and rushed across the warming blacktop.

  “Um, Margie? I need to use the bathroom?” Ryker’s frustration with the situation was apparent.

  Margie nodded. “I’ll run around to the front of the store and sneak inside to see if I can get anything. You can do what you need to do… wait, just urinating, right?” She sighed at the sight of his anxious nod. “Good. Just stay here. I’ll be back in a little bit.” She hoped.

  When had she gotten brave enough to do things on her own? When she had no other choice to be anything else.

  She rounded the corner of the store, hoping that the cement block walls didn’t hide a murderous gang or rioting mob in its depths. Or even worse, what if its walls held nothing? No food, no supplies, no water… What if the parking lot in front had no vehicles? What if they’d hit a pothole in their journey and Margie had to struggle even more to get to Cady’s place? The list of what-ifs had the power to crowd out her sanity, if she let them.

  Shaking her head, she pushed away her anxiety of her situation and kept her main goal in sight. She just wanted to see her daughter and her granddaughter. Was that too much to ask for? She’d already gotten plenty of luck doled out to her since leaving her home in Bonner County. Why did she think she was owed anymore?

  The spring grass was dry but growing along the sidewalk following the edge of the store.

  Margie slowed her pace as she reached the front of the building, creeping around the corner to investigate for any signs of danger – human or otherwise.

  A handful of cars dotted the parking lot, none of them noteworthy from that angle. As she crept along the front of the store, she glanced to the side and paused. A minivan. Normally those vehicles were as plentiful as eggs in a grocery store. That’s what she needed. When she came back out, she’d have to look into it. She could put a lot inside one of those vehicles and it wouldn’t guzzle gas too much.

  Turning toward the front of the building, Margie finally registered the crunch of broken glass beneath her shoes and the carts laying at odd angles like a makeshift roadblock for the front doors. Windows had been shattered, leaving the front unprotected and gaping with jagged edges like a yawning maw ready to eat the next soul attempting to disappearing inside.

  Margie had no weapon, nothing. She stopped. What was she going to do? She had nothing.

  The inside of the store was dark. At least Margie had the small flashlight in her pocket. She patted the mini bulge to make sure and then pulled it out. If she was going inside, the least she could do would be to give herself a head start to see danger coming at her.

  Although, Margie knew she didn’t have a chance if something or someone came at her. Maybe she was going crazy or was more tired than she’d originally thought. She couldn’t stop her mind from roaming with thoughts of what she was doing and what had happened over the last month or so.

  The days were running into each other and this seemed to have become the new norm. Stepping over the steel frame of the large windows, Margie gripped the flashlight in her palm. What was she doing? Someone could be in there. Was someone in there?

  Her chest rose and fell as her breathing turned into panting and her pulse outpaced the engine of the Rabbit on the freeway.

  She needed a plan. Walking around the periphery of the store seemed like a smart idea as she searched the depths to see if she was alone or needed to run toward the bright holes of the windows. She lifted the beam of her light to scan the aisle signs. There was no other sound in the store beside the harshness of her breathing.

  The white words on maroon placards hung suspended over the aisle ends, declaring items that most likely wouldn’t be there.

  Soups and canned fruits and vegetables caught Margie’s eye. She held her breath, lowering her flashlight and turning off the beam. No other sound. Okay, she was there alone. She could get things done faster, if she just hurried and didn’t worry about making any sounds.

  She had to figure a way to get the food outside, whatever she could find. Of course the place had been ransacked. She wasn’t dumb, but maybe there would be some things that she could get or that she would find.

  Margie walked in the direction of the aisle with the soups in it, wincing as she stepped on crinkly things in her path. At the end of the aisle, she accidentally kicked a can or jar, the echoing sound of it rolling across the tiled floor feeling even louder than if she’d brought a marching band through.

  She gasped at the sound and held still. What was she doing?

  “I hope you didn’t break it.” The man’s voice was low and only about five feet in front of her.

  Margie jumped, gripping her flashlight tightly in front of her like a club. She turned on the light, shining in his direction until she pointed it directly at him.

  Light reflected from simple wire frame glasses and he was average in size and appearance. Holding up his hand, he turned his face away. “I don’t mind you checking me out, but can you lower the light? It’s brighter on this end.”

  Margie lowered the beam to aim at his waist, which gave her enough light to see him by and to also notice the glint of light on the long crowbar in his hand.

  For some reason, she didn’t run. He had a crowbar that could be used to kill her, Ryker, and half the vehicles in the city. But, Margie wasn’t afraid. That was probably her dumbest mistake, not to be afraid of him, but she was running out of energy.

  Paranoia took energy. She didn’t think she had the brain power for any more of anything. If he was going to kill her, he better hurry. She was running out of reasons why she needed to stay alive.

  “Um, I… I’m sorry. I was looking for food and…” Of course, Margie was looking for food. She was in a grocery store. What else would she be looking for? Camping supplies?

  The man stepped closer to her, keeping the bar by his side and his stance inoffensive, he didn’t even seem to be worried about their situation.

  Margie backed up, but she had to stop when her rear end ran into the metal of the shelving behind her.

  He stepped close, leaning forward and grasping her wrist with the light in it carefully. Lifting her hand to aim the flashlight down the aisle, he kept his voice low and controlled as he looked down at the shelves. “This will go a lot faster, if you shine your light on the shelves. Then we can get through everything together.” His smile was unassuming and he didn’t eye her like Margie had always assumed men eyed women during the apocalypse.

  He stepped back, giving her space. “Let’s work together. I’m Manson. We can fill this cart as we come across stuff. We’ll divide it outside. It’ll be faster to work together.”

  Someone else making the decisions in a decidedly civilized manner with politeness and calm mannerisms was refreshing and more than a little offsetting. Margie didn’t know him, but she felt like they could be just a couple of people in the store – ignoring the lack of lights and the odor of sp
oiled meat wafting from the back.

  Margie slowly stepped forward, matching his movements and doing as he did as she held the light on the shelves. She didn’t trust Kelsey. Margie could see herself replacing Kelsey with this guy. She needed a different car or she would need to get rid of Kelsey. How would she do that? Kill Kelsey?

  That train of thought was unacceptable and not a direction Margie was going to go down. Kelsey might make the decision for Margie by not leaving her Rabbit and Margie could ask this guy, if they could go with him. Or maybe Margie just struck out on her own with Ryker, that wouldn’t be unheard of or impossible, except she knew there was safety in numbers. Keeping Kelsey around added to their number. That was appealing enough in itself.

  The possibility that Manson was a murderer or something crossed her mind, but she clung to the hope that he was a normal guy trying to survive. That’s what she needed for just a little bit longer. Normalcy – the normalcy from society they’d been forced to leave behind – was what she wanted even more than a working car and a sandwich.

  Hopefully, when they went outside to the parking lot, the truth would be easier to swallow in the light of day.

  Chapter 14

  Cady

  Cady held onto the grab bar, her knuckles white and the tendons in her wrist taut against her skin. She was so tired, just exhausted and she wasn’t sure how much more energy her adrenaline could spike through her. She wanted to sleep, even as the rig careened through the streets to find escape.

  Scott drove the Bronco like their lives depended on him making the next curve or taking the next hill rise at fifty miles an hour. Which their lives just might depend on it. But was it asking too much to be partially intact when they arrived wherever they were going?

  The section of state land Scott drove on was a popular area for the locals to drive their ATVs around. The varied landscape was fun when you were in a helmet and meaning to catch air when you jumped a hill. Not so fun when you were running for your lives.