Promise Me Light (29 page)

As I was yanked toward the house, I looked around the yard with
fright.
What was going on? Why were these soldiers
treating us like we were criminals?

I saw Cash being held at gunpoint with an AR-15. Gavin was on the
ground, still struggling and kicking the men holding him down. I heard
thuds and grunts as his fists landed on the men, knocking them off for a
second before they pounced on him.

Brody was fighting to get to Eva as she was dragged toward the porch,
screaming. With panic, I watched as she gave a swift kick to the man’s
crotch. He let go of her to grab himself, howling with pain. She climbed
to her feet and took off running. The leader yelled for someone to stop
her but she kept going, her long legs racing toward the overgrown road
and freedom.

“Eva!” I screamed when I saw two men take off after her, gaining
quickly.

She turned just as they tackled her to the ground. The vision of her
falling caused me to scream and Brody to roar with anger.

I started struggling, exploding when I saw the men handling Eva so
brutally.
She’s been through enough!

Paul tightened his grip on me, bruising my arm. Without thinking of
the consequences, I lifted my foot to kick him.
One
swift kick to his shin and maybe he’ll turn me loose!

“Maddie! STOP!” Ryder shouted, realizing what I was about to
do.

I glanced over at him as I struggled against Paul. I saw the warning
on Ryder’s face.
Don’t do it, Maddie,
I could
almost hear him say.

I lowered my foot and let Paul push me to the porch steps. Ryder
fought the men holding him, a fierce look on his face as he watched me.
Paul dragged me within inches of Ryder, almost like he was teasing
me.

Ryder stopped struggling against his captors when I got close. His
eyes left me to move to Paul.

“Hurt her and I’ll be all over your ass,” he snarled. “You
won’t even know what hit you but I sure as hell will.”

Paul’s face went white but he didn’t let go of my arm. His
Adam’s apple moved up and down in his skinny throat but he finally got
the words out.

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll be the one hitting and it ain’t going
be you I’m aiming at,” he warned. Satisfied with his threat, he
shoved me up the stairs.

Inside, Paul threw me toward the table. I caught myself, almost
nailing my hip on the edge.

“Sit!” he barked, pointing at a chair next to Janice.

I fell into the chair. My knees were weak but my body ached to fight
back. I glanced around the kitchen, looking for anything that could be
used as a weapon. Knives. Forks. Cast Iron pans. Things that were out of
my reach. Things I would have to fight to get to.

I let out a deep breath, the cold air visible as it left my lips.
Despite being inside there was a chill in the air, almost like a
manifestation of our dire circumstances. Whatever these men wanted,
whatever they craved, we couldn’t afford to give it to them. We
didn’t have that much to give.

I kept my eyes straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge the man
standing guard over me or the other soldiers walking into the room.
Be strong and don’t show fear. Let them know they
can’t scare you,
my inner voice lectured me, refusing to let me
cower.

I didn’t move a muscle until Eva was pushed into a chair beside me,
landing hard on her bottom. Tears ran down her face, leaving tracks on
her red cheeks. One side of her face was scratched and her lower lip was
cut, looking painful. Like me, she was terrified, her gaze racing around
the room frantically.

Brody was pushed into the house, fighting the soldiers every step of
the way. His jaw tightened when he saw Eva’s face and he muttered a
few threats of murder under his breath.

The other soldiers pushed Gavin and Cash inside the kitchen, shoving
them every few seconds just for fun.

The small kitchen was now packed with men but I only wanted to see
one. The one that could make me scream with anger, yell with
frustration, and moan with desire.

He was brought in last, followed by two soldiers with guns pointed at
his back.

Ryder didn’t look at me. His eyes stayed on Paul standing behind
me. When the man put a chunky hand on my shoulder and one on Eva’s, I
saw red-hot rage explode in Ryder’s eyes. He never looked away from
Paul as he was pushed to stand between Gavin and Cash.

“So who’s the leader of this group?” the leader asked, standing
at the head of the table with authority.

No one answered him. Eva kept her eyes focused on her lap but me…I
stared at the man, hating him with a passion.
Who the
hell does he think he is coming onto our house and treating us this way?
I don’t care if he is military, he has no right! Ever heard of the
Fourth Amendment, jerk? Illegal search and seizure, anyone?

The leader waited a second, but no one answered his question. The
windows rattling in the wind was his only answer.

“No one’s gonna fess up? Hmmm, interesting?” he said, his tone
full of politeness. He sauntered over, pushing Paul out of the way.
Standing behind me and Eva, he put a hand on each of our shoulders, his
fingers biting and rough. The smell rolling off of him was nauseating.
It was something sickly sweet but sweaty. Too much deodorant over an
unwashed body.

I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to vomit. When his fingers moved
up my shoulder to my neck and pressed hard on my throat, I knew his
politeness was a sham. Everything about him seemed fake but the danger
was real.

I felt fear crawl across my skin like cockroaches scattering up a
wall. And just like that nasty bug, this leader was going to be a bitch
to get rid of.

His hand left my throat to grasp my elbow. Before I knew what he was
doing, he hauled me out of the seat, yanking me up so fast, I
gasped.

Eva cried out, reaching for me. Paul immediately pushed her back into
the chair, smacking her shoulder hard.

The leader yanked me back, away from the table. I stumbled and
tripped over my own feet and his. He held onto me and spun me around to
face the others.

“Okay, let’s try this again,” he said, his voice fierce.
Reaching up, he touched my braid lovingly, stroking up and down the long
plait.

“Who is the leader of this group?” he asked again with
politeness.

“We don’t have a leader,” Cash answered, his voice calm, as
always.

“All groups have a leader. Someone stronger than the rest. Braver.
More willing to die to protect those in the group. Which one of you is
that person? The one not afraid of anything? The one willing to put
themselves on the line to save…this one,” the leader said, tugging
hard on my braid.

My head was jerked back, a cringe crossing my face when the man
started wrapping my braid around his fist.

Ryder shifted to his other foot, his hands begging to be wrapped
around the man’s neck. I saw his shoulders tighten and the muscles in
his arms stiffen. If looks could kill, the leader of this ragtag bunch
of men would be dead right now. Pushing up daisies.

“I’m the leader,” Gavin said, stepping forward. “Now let her
go.”

I saw Ryder’s teeth clench, his eyes moving to Gavin, looking
anything but happy.

“Good, now we’re getting somewhere,” the leader said, shoving
me down into a chair. But instead of letting me go, his fist stayed
twisted in my hair, pulling at my scalp and bringing tears to my eyes. I
couldn’t hold back a yelp when he yanked my head back again, making my
neck almost a target for him to wrap his hand around. I didn’t know
what would happen next but what did sent shivers down my spine.

“You know what it’s like to have bugs and maggots eat your skin?
Burrow deep into your body and snack on you from the inside out?”
Ryder said in a deep, baritone voice that sounded like death itself.

No one answered him. It was a question not meant to be answered.

“If you don’t get your
fucking
hands off
of her, you’re going to be six feet under, finding out,” Ryder
snarled, peering at the leader with eyes full of dark hatred.

“Touché,” the leader laughed, letting go of my braid and patting
the top of my head.

I let out a breath of relief but it was short-lived. I should have
known it wasn’t that simple.

“Take care of him, boys,” the leader said in a bored voice,
nodding at Ryder.

“NOOOO!” I screamed, jumping up from my chair.

He shoved me back down, knocking the air out of my lungs and making
me wince. That’s when Ryder exploded.

Tucking his head he rammed the guy next to him. The man’s breath
left him in a whoosh, knocking him back. Ryder’s bound wrists flew up,
plowing into another guy’s nose. Blood went flying, the man yelping in
surprise. Gavin started to jump into the mix but he was shoved back, a
gun appearing in his face.

Ryder’s elbow flew up, his aim centered on the man’s chin beside
him. But he never made his mark. The man’s fist connected with
Ryder’s jaw, slinging his head back. Ryder recovered quickly and
roared, racing forward to bulldoze the guy. The man wasn’t giving up
that easily. Pulling back his fist, he planted an uppercut to Ryder’s
face then a punch to Ryder’s stomach.

“Ryder! Stop!” I screamed, struggling to get away from the hand
holding me in the chair.

Immediately Ryder stilled. His chest rose and fell, breathing hard as
he looked at me. One of his eyelids was already swelling, a small cut in
his eyebrow adding to the pain.

“Stop,” I pleaded, trying so hard to hold it together. “I’m
okay. I’m okay,” I repeated, not wanting him to suffer for me.

“That’s better. Listen to the little lady,” the leader said,
chuckling when Ryder glared at him. “Now, why don’t we sit and have
a civilized conversation.”

Gavin was shoved into a seat at the table. Ryder, Brody, and Cash
stood behind him, Ryder bleeding and pissed.

“First, my name is Frankie. My men and I hail from South Texas.
Ain’t at liberty to say where exactly,” the leader said, sitting at
the head of the table like he owned the place.

“You’re not military,” Ryder said.

The leader glanced at him, surprised. “Hell son, not only are you
full of piss and vinegar but you’re smart as well. I might come to
like you after all.” He glanced at me and smiled. “Your girl
too.”

I saw Ryder gnash his teeth together and shift to his other foot.

Gavin interrupted, keeping things from getting out of hand again.
“You gonna tell us who you are or you gonna sit around and bullshit
all day?” he asked with boredom.

The leader stared at Gavin, his smile slipping. I don’t think he
liked being talked back to.
Too bad. He’s messing with
the wrong people
. A full minute passed before he spoke again, his
smile back in place.

“We’re militia. The finest. We’ve been preparing for something
like this for years. People thought we were crazy for training day in
and day out.” He snorted, picking at one of his dirty fingernails.
“Now those same people are probably dead or dying and we’re alive
and thriving. Who’s laughing now?”

I wanted to roll my eyes and snort but I stayed quiet. So, okay,
militias could be good. If I remember my fifth grade history class
correctly (Mr. Hill was a terrible teacher but I still learned
something) militias have saved our ass in the past. During the
Revolutionary War and the Civil War loosely formed militias won many of
the battles. History even says that most of the military at that time
were militia who had no formal military training. They were just
everyday folks fighting for their country. But the men standing around
the kitchen today struck me as being more like bullies than well-oiled
fighting machines.

“So what do you want?” Gavin asked, leaning forward in his seat
to eye the leader.

“Everything,” the leader answered, smiling.

Gavin leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s
everything?” he asked.

The leader motioned around the kitchen. “Food, water, supplies. You
have it, we need it. We can’t fight the damn terrorists on an empty
stomach. When we saw your house, out here in the middle of nowhere, we
knew,” he shook his finger at Gavin, “we just knew that we had hit
pay dirt. Hallelujah!”

“Yeah, well, we need food and water to survive also,” Brody said,
jerking his chin up obstinately.

“Understand,” the leader said, nodding his head. “I really do.
Hell, if everyone dies off, who are we fighting for anyway?” He
laughed at his own joke. “But do you kids even know what’s happening
out there?”

When no one answered, he continued. “We’re winning this goddamn
war,” he said. “The U.S. is pushing the sons-of-bitches out. We’ve
got towns to the south of here clear and we’re working our way up
north. The devils have weapons and supplies but we have sheer
determination. We’ll survive just like our ancestors did.” He leaned
forward, his voice dropping. “They can’t bring their soldiers over
here fast enough for us to put them in the ground.”

“Who are ‘they’?” Cash asked, crossing his arms over his
chest.

The man shrugged, his jacket pulling taut. “On paper? The Middle
East and North Korea. But the big boys down in D.C. believe that with
the manpower and technology that hit us, it’s really Russia and China
behind it all.”

If what this man was saying was true, the war was bigger than we
thought. We were talking World War III. Us against half the world.

“But we’re winning, folks,” he said, shrugging. “The
government is working on getting the power back up. We’ve got other
nations coming in to help us. We’re fighting the invaders with
everything we got. Sons of bitches dare set foot on our soil? We take
them out. Always have. Always will.”

We were silent, letting the information sink in.
We’re winning?
I didn’t want to get my hopes up
based on what a bunch of rogue militia said, but it was impossible not
to hope when we were cold and hungry.