Buried Flames (4 page)

Brenna kissed him with the longing and passion that had been buried inside of her for years. She held nothing back. She breathed in his essence, bringing back memories of when they’d lose themselves in abandoned desire in the back of his first secondhand truck back in high school. What she would have given to have these last few years back, burning up the pent-up fuel he’d generated inside of her.
This
was living.

Mason leaned his hard body into hers, his fingers somehow sliding underneath her tight braid. He took over and she melted against him as if no time had passed at all. This was the man she’d spent many nights dreaming about after the boy she’d known had left. His addictive sweet taste hadn’t changed and the longing returned full force, making it all the more bittersweet when he ever so slowly pulled away. He rested his forehead against hers as they both struggled for air, but she would have gladly succumbed to suffocation than face the next few moments.

“Go,” Mason encouraged softly, pressing a tender kiss to Brenna’s forehead. It was almost impossible for her to swallow past the lump in her throat, but she managed. She slowly nodded and had no choice but to drop her hands from his chest when he stepped back. “You know how to take care of yourself, but remember to stay with the group. There’s—”

“Safety in numbers,” Brenna repeated along with him with a small smile. She slid off of the passenger seat until her boots hit the gravel beneath them. “Good luck, Mason. I guess this is finally goodbye.”

Brenna managed to walk away with her shoulders straight and her head held high, purposefully leaving behind the gasmask and filters. He’d need it more than she would and she refused to take anything from him that would hinder his ability to reach Washington safely. Anita Dunst would be proud of the man Mason had turned into, even though he’d undoubtedly argue that point to his grave.

Brenna quickly got into her truck and pulled down the highway at a high rate of speed, turning on the radio to see if there were any new developments. She didn’t look back for fear of hitting the brakes and begging Mason to come with her. He’d already made up his mind and though he used to call her stubborn all the time, she had nothing on him when he’d set his mind on something. She brushed away the lone tear slowly rolling down her cheek as she made a right onto the road that would take her down to the gravel road leading to her home, refusing to cry for something that couldn’t be changed nor managed.

It amazed Brenna how a person could go on with their lives with hopes and dreams, only to have a moment come along as if no time had passed at all. It wasn’t as if she’d pined away for Mason all of these years. She’d lived her life as a woman and had carved out happiness in her hometown by the time he’d returned. He’d been so withdrawn and angry that she’d purposefully kept her distance. Would things have been different if she hadn’t? It was pointless to go over
what ifs
when the brink of destruction loomed before them. The past was what it was.

Brenna looked up at the sky, the vivid blue stunning in its vast clarity. She hoped beyond all hope that Mason found the peace he’d found on this land where he was headed. As for her…well, she was a survivor. She could admit to being afraid of what was to come, but she would do what needed to be done.

“…and tens of thousands have perished in the blast radius zone,” the radio announcer proclaimed in disbelief. “Whatever you do, don’t waste precious time getting to safety. Take your loved ones and go now.”

Brenna thought of the elderly residents of Harpersfield and cursed under her breath. Would Kody or Leroy have stopped to pick them up on their way into town? Mr. Salvet would have gone with them without a thought, but Mrs. Otter? She was set in her ways and it would take more than two handsome good ole’ boys to convince her to leave her home she’d lived in her entire life.

Mason’s words came back to haunt her…
you’re wasting precious time
. Brenna was well aware of that, but she still swung her truck around in the middle of the narrow road. She had to back up and then put her truck into drive, but soon she was on her way to collect Mrs. Otter. After all, there was safety in numbers.

A
n hour into
his journey and Mason was just as torn and angry as he’d been when Brenna had left his farm without her gasmask. Hell, it wasn’t even his size to begin with. Why couldn’t she have taken it? He hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand, ignoring the pain that only fed his frustration. What gave her the right to come out to his land and act as if nothing had ever happened—like they had always been the best of friends anyway? He’d purposefully kept his distance when he’d returned. She’d always seemed perfectly happy leaving it that way too. She’d somehow wiped away years of solitude with one damn kiss. Son of a bitch.

“Don’t you do it,” Mason warned himself, eyeing a turnoff up ahead. He shook his head at the temptation of doing something so idiotic. “Keep on driving.”

Morbid images of Brenna struggling to breathe because she hadn’t taken her gasmask floated through Mason’s head. He inhaled slowly, trying to extinguish the dark visions. All that did was have him worrying she hadn’t taken a weapon with her as he’d suggested. Would she have enough supplies? Where would she go once she reached the coast? It would be nothing short of chaos considering the amount of people whom would be seeking shelter in an area with limited resources.

The vibration of Mason’s cell phone caught his attention and he gratefully shifted so he could pull it out of the front pocket of his jeans. He wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but anything was better than what he had just been considering. Besides, the only ones who had his number were the guys. They most likely had an update for him; maybe something about an area he should avoid.

“What have you got?”

“You on the road yet?” Berke asked, sounding as if he were anywhere but enclosed inside a vehicle. The loud voices in the background only got louder as an argument broke out somewhere near him. “Shut up!”

Silence immediately followed Berke’s command. Mason wasn’t going to ask where he was or what was going on. He had troubles enough of his own. It was a waste of time and his friend could handle his own affairs.

“I’m on the road.”

“Do you have your HF radio for emergencies?”

“Yes,” Mason replied, looking up ahead at what appeared to be stopped traffic trying to merge onto another jammed highway. He braked, gauging the distance needed in order not to jostle the horses in the trailer. “I have everything I need. I’ll be on horseback with one pack horse once the truck’s engine stops working, so I can’t give you an ETA exactly.”

“Use 14.275 megahertz during the day once we lose communications on our cell phones, which I’m guessing will be sooner rather than later.” Wind blew against Berke’s mic, obscuring some of his words. He must have gone outside from wherever he’d been. Mason got the gist of it though and the numbers were the most important. “Use 3.975 at night. Check-in is at twenty-one hundred hours, if possible. Mav or Tank will be monitoring both radio nets for our transmissions.”

“The others?”

“Are on their way,” Berke answered immediately. There was a lengthy pause and Mason steeled himself for what his friend might say. It couldn’t be any worse than where his imagination was going. “There are quite a few people up at Lost Summit, too many to fit into the bunker for ten years anyway. Tank and Mav will most likely convert the lodge into a temporary sanctuary, bringing whoever stays in the area up there for shelter and security. Regardless, they can outfit the folks they have for quite awhile and then some.”

“That old bastard was right,” Mason said with somewhat disbelief. He brought the truck to a complete stop, checking his rearview mirror for any of the idiots not watching what was in front of them. “Tank said either a nuclear war or a natural disaster would take place in our lifetime and here we are. What are the odds the entire town stays behind and heads up to the lodge?”

“Not likely, which will give us more of an indication of how best to utilize the bunker on the far end of this thing. Tank could fit, at the most, thirty to fifty people for a period of at least five years. Hold on a second.” Berke must have set down his phone. Mason used the time to slowly ease across the double yellow line and pass those that were trying to take the highway. They’d be waiting a damn long time before any movement ensued. Panic had descended a while ago and people were only out for themselves. “I’m back. Mav’s been keeping me posted. He’s headed for a town meeting now, but I figure some of the residents will head east or north like the White House has suggested.”

Mason thinned his lips as his thoughts went right back to Brenna. She had to have left Harpersfield by now. The Walker brothers and the Hicks family wouldn’t have left without her either. The town wasn’t that big—maybe three hundred residents total—since it consisted mostly of outlying farms. The community stuck by one another, so why then was Mason’s gut instinct telling him something wasn’t right?

“Did you have any trouble getting out of town?”

“Not really, considering everyone else is headed east.” Mason was now slowly driving on the left hand side of the road, practically in the grass. There were too many people at this junction and he chided himself for thinking he’d be able to get past this area without issue. He could only imagine the pandemonium Brenna was encountering. “Van’s going to have the toughest go of it considering he’s in New York. He’ll have to fight the tide the whole way back west. I take it he’s already on the road?”

“I wasn’t able to get in touch him, but I’m sure he’s fine. Owen is riding his Harley and will hopefully go north and then follow the Canadian border over to Washington State. Dropping down south to Lost Summit after that should be a breeze.” Berke’s worried tone contradicted his words, but he continued to lay out the current plan. “Tank and Mav will have those already staying up at the lodge set up security rotations, so make sure you approach the area with caution. The natural springs will draw people who know the area from far and wide, especially those who are desperate for resources. The last thing we need is for an all-out territorial war to thin the ranks from the start. The fact remains that anyone aware of what is up there will try to stake a claim. We’ll have to defend it sooner or later.”

“Yeah,” Mason murmured in agreement, once again thinking of Brenna. The group she was with would no doubt have taken a couple of horse trailers themselves, along with necessary supplies to see them through to the coast. They’d be the perfect targets to hit for those unsavory characters out there preying on the unprepared and defenseless. “Go and get yourself out of Dodge. I’ll keep in touch.”

“You too, buddy.”

Mason disconnected the call and dropped his cell phone in the cup holder of his console. He was starting to run out of room on the side of the road due to too many vehicles trying to get on the ramp before anyone else. His horse trailer didn’t help him any, taking up too much room. He braked and then shifted into reverse, using the side mirrors of his truck to see behind him and still keep the trailer from jackknifing while he reversed his truck.

Mason steadily backed up the trailer until he was finally at the one intersection where he could head west. Unfortunately, every single vehicle had all but taken up both lanes trying to get onto the highway. He pulled down on the lever until the transmission was in drive, switched to 4H on the dash, and then carefully maneuvered past all of the waiting lemmings, using what was left of the shoulder. He was getting incredulous stares and finger pointing from those in the other vehicles, but he ignored their antics and kept going west.

The ill feeling Mason had maintained over thoughts of Brenna remained, but he’d done the right thing. She stood a hell of a better shot of survival than coming with him, heading directly into the ash when he wasn’t a hundred percent sure the horses would make it through the residue with his improvised bridle/feedbag mask. He’d been going over and over in his head how to rig the best form of mask over their muzzles, but nothing was guaranteed. She was better off going east.

Mason continued driving for another five minutes before witnessing a completely annihilated roadside convenience store. The windows had been shattered, the shelves looted, and the handles of the pumps had been hanging loose on the ground from desperate people wanting to escape as soon as possible. He cursed under his breath and told himself it wasn’t as if he could call Brenna to see if she’d made any headway. He didn’t even have her phone number, even if communications were still up and running back there. It wouldn’t surprise him if the cell phone network went down at any moment.

Mason came to another four-way stop, not nearly as congested as the last one. He was getting farther and farther into the backwoods of South Dakota. He’d crossed the line between the two states a couple miles back. He’d make good time now, but that only brought him closer to the ash cloud. He sat for a moment and stared at the carnage that was once a booming business. It had been reduced to nothing, leaving a bad taste in his mouth over the immoral choices desperate people could make and he reached for his phone. He did have someone else in his contacts.