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Authors: Kennedy Layne

Tags: #Romance, #Military

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BOOK: Buried Flames
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“Beau, this is Mason Sykes. I was just wondering how far you and the group have made it.” Mason let the idle on his truck run, not needing to turn considering no one was headed in his direction. He rested his arm on the steering wheel, waiting for Beau Walker’s answer. “Were you able to make it over to 80 toward Omaha yet?”

“We’re taking as many back roads as we can,” Beau answered a little distractedly, pausing to tell his brother who was on the phone. “We’re carrying a heavy trailer load with half a dozen horses, while Leroy is following behind with a couple more horses and some goats. Who knows what we’re going to face once we get to wherever we’re going.”

“Are the Hicks and Brenna traveling with you?” Mason asked, somewhat holding his breath while mentally kicking himself in the ass for even making this call. It wasn’t as if he could change what was happening. “What about Kody?”

“Kody went south to ride with his parents and the Hicks family was taking too long to load up.” Beau paused with a regret that Mason understood all too well. Sometimes people made choices that took the decision out of others’ hands. “We told them what roads we were taking, so I’m hoping they make up some time and meet up with us.”

“And Brenna?” Mason asked with caution when Beau hadn’t brought up her name. Would she have been foolish enough to wait around for the Hicks family? Had she gone with Kody, not wanting to let a twenty-two year old young man travel on his own while seeking out his own family? “Is she with you?”

Beau’s lengthy pause had a vise squeezing Mason’s insides until he couldn’t breathe. Son of a bitch. He’d told her over and over again what she had to do. Why hadn’t she listened?

“Beau?”

“We couldn’t find her,” Beau finally admitted, the remorse in his voice all but evident. “We went on the outskirts of the town, making sure Mrs. Otter, George Salvet, and even Al Stockton were riding with someone. Everyone was accounted for but Brenna. We thought maybe she’d taken off on her own.”

Mason had a hard time speaking into the phone considering the muscles of his jaw were strung tight. They’d gone and left her. An entire town full of residents who watched out for one another and they left the one female rancher who would give the shirt off of her back to anyone who would ask. He kicked himself even harder because he’d had the chance to bring her with him. He was just as bad as they were.

“Did anyone even bother to drive out to Brenna’s ranch before leaving town?” Mason asked, managing to get the question out as he jerked the wheel to the left and stepped on the gas pedal. There was no way in good conscience he could continue driving without knowing she was safe. His strive to remain detached had just been severed. “Did anyone try calling her?”

“We drove out to her place before leaving, Mason,” Beau said in their defense, his brother’s voice drifting through the line and echoing that sentiment. “Brenna was nowhere to be found and her truck wasn’t on the property either. We think she might have got a head start.”

“Bullshit,” Mason barked into the phone, unable to prevent his outburst. Growing concern continued to spread throughout his body until his old scars were practically itching with pain. He hated not being able to control his apprehension the way he wanted to. “You and I both know Brenna never would have left Harpersfield on her own.”

Mason tossed his phone into the passenger seat and gave as much gas to his truck as he could safely manage without jostling the horse trailer too much. He was doing the one thing he’d promised himself he wouldn’t. He was going after Brenna and then he’d have to take her with him to Washington State…directly into the teeth of the fiery, harsh elements that would most likely claim both of their lives.

Chapter Four

B
renna had opened
the last gate and was watching the herd of cattle funnel through the wide opening out to the four thousand acre pasture with sorrow. This land had been in Brenna’s family for generations. These Black Angus had been more than just income and she couldn’t just let them stay penned up without the room to move around in their last days. They would most likely succumb to the ash as it rolled over the land. Everything would suffocate in its path and it wasn’t something she could comprehend, let alone accept.

The livestock should at least have a chance at survival as long as they could find open ground, which was why she’d taken the time to go out to the pastures and open all the gates. She would give them as much room as she could. It wouldn’t be fair of her to just cut them loose to wander onto the roads, but she did give them access to a vast area. The terrified livestock didn’t hesitate and immediately broke for the open ground. They somehow knew that trouble was coming as they struck out for the hills.

“You ready, Sam?” Brenna asked the rugged old Australian Shepherd, who kept looking behind them with a whine every now and then. He had always been a very intuitive partner helping her on the ranch. Even he knew they were running out of time, but there wasn’t a chance in hell Brenna would leave her livestock here to die in the pen without feed. “Let’s go. We have some time to make up.”

Brenna had driven out to Mrs. Otter’s residence only to find she’d already packed up and fled. The Walker brothers or maybe even the Hicks family must have already made the rounds. After all, she had been out at Mason’s for quite a while.

“In the truck, Sam.”

The ten-year-old mutt didn’t waste time as he hopped into the open cab of her truck. She’d thought about hitching a trailer to the back like Mason had, but she wouldn’t need horses where she was going. It would also limit the areas she would be able to drive because she sure as hell wasn’t taking the highway the whole way to the East Coast. Besides, knowing Beau and Boyd, they would have driven the back roads anyway.

Brenna shut the passenger side door as she made her away around the vehicle. She had to go back to the house to finish packing before hitting the road. She’d bring what canned goods she could, as well as blankets, ammunition, medical supplies, and had also topped off her one hundred gallon auxiliary fuel tank from the ranch’s main supply pump. Mason had mentioned the ash shouldn’t be hitting their town for at least eight to twelve hours. Two had already passed, so she still had some time to get out of town.

It wasn’t long before Brenna was pulling up to the front porch of the one-story ranch house she’d grown up in. She barely remembered her mother, who’d passed away from cancer at a young age, but she did have very fond memories of her father as she reached for his old lever action model 1886 Winchester 45-70 GOVT. She was glad he wasn’t here to see the end of what he’d worked for every day of his life…that alone would have destroyed him.

“Stay, Sam,” Brenna ordered, not wanting to have to go and find him should he decide to leave the immediate area around the house. He obeyed and sat inside the truck, windows down, as she hurried around the back and opened her tailgate. “Good boy.”

It took a good forty-five minutes to get the necessary supplies out of the house and into the cab, especially with what space was available in the bed with the large fuel tank. Brenna gathered blankets, canned goods, bottled water, a backpack of clothes suited for the trail, a twenty-five pound bag of dog food, medical supplies, and anything else she could think of that she would need to survive in the coming months. The President had announced that the National Guard would be coming around once the ash cloud lifted in order to deliver provisions to those who had hunkered down in outlying areas to ride out the worst of the aftereffects. She just had to take what she needed until then.

Brenna was still in the barn gathering the tools and a tent she’d need when they took the time to rest during their travels when she heard the rumble of an engine and the gravel crunching underneath tires of an approaching vehicle. The rifle she’d grabbed earlier was already in the cab of her truck, but she wasn’t worried as she had her Ruger Blackhawk .44 magnum in her hip holster if she really needed it. She figured the only people who would be out this way were those she was close to, like the Hicks, Walkers, or Leroy Cooper.

“I’m out here in the barn,” Brenna called out, debating on whether or not to take some of the various farm equipment with her, already knowing she wouldn’t. There wasn’t any spare room in the bed of her truck for anything other than the fuel tank, what she had already packed, and what she currently held in her hands. She had already made it back to the large opening of the barn when the sight of Mason all but marching toward her stopped her in her tracks. Her heartbeat stuttered at the thought of what that meant until she saw his expression. He was downright furious. “Mason, what are you doing back here?”

“I’ve been asking myself that question the entire drive back,” Mason growled, removing the supplies from her hands and throwing them back inside the barn behind her. He grabbed her arm and started to pull her toward her truck, until she dug in her heels and jerked away from him. “Get your possibles.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Brenna asked, pushing a hand against Mason’s chest when he took a step toward her.

“What’s wrong with me?” Mason swore as he swung around on his boot heel and stormed over to the bed of her truck. He shook his head at the items inside and then closed it up before walking around to the passenger side door. The look on his face when he spotted Sam would have been comical had they not been in such a dire situation. His angry dark gaze connected once more with hers. “What’s wrong with me is that I’ve spent years on my own for a very specific—rather valid, I might add—reason. This whole apocalyptic shitstorm should have been easy. Gather my crap and leave. Why? Because I had nothing and no one to worry about. Nothing. I should have been able to make my way through to Washington State by myself and that would have been the end of dealing with this shit.”

Brenna was slightly confused Mason hadn’t done just that, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. Instead, she watched as he looked inside the open window, reached in and pulled out her backpack. He must have caught sight of her rifle, because he gathered the weapon up as well. He continued yelling and complaining as he carried it to his truck, making it more than apparent he didn’t like being jacked around dealing with people anymore.

“Why the hell couldn’t you have done what you were told?” Mason opened up the passenger door of his truck, as well as the back side door, and tossed her bag inside. He laid the rifle on the seat before slamming the door shut, finally turning toward her with his brown eyes practically black in all his fury. Brenna crossed her arms, refusing to go anywhere with the man standing and shouting in front of her. He was all she’d thought about, images of him on the ground with his horses covered in ash as they lay suffocating from the inhaled sludge playing over and over in her mind…and for this? “Do you know how much time you’ve wasted? Did you ever consider that the Walker brothers were worried about you? They searched for you everywhere, unable to even find your truck. Leroy is with them, while Kody drove south to be with his parents. The Hicks family—”

“What is it you want from me, Mason?” Brenna asked, standing her ground. She was getting damned tired of being yelled at and she wasn’t the one wasting time, now was she? “I had things to do. I drove over to Mrs. Otter’s house, then went down to Mr. Salvet’s residence to make sure no one had forgotten them. I figured that Beau and Boyd had already picked them up since they weren’t there, most likely along with Al Stockton. I’m not that far behind them, so you didn’t need to come all the way back here just for me.”

“It’s been almost three hours, Brenna,” Mason barked, placing his hand on the door and pointing a finger at the seat. “Get in.”

“No,” Brenna shot back, walking to her truck where Sam waited for her. “You know what, Mason? I feel sorry for you over there on your spread all by yourself. We all did. No one could believe you came back here after your time in the service. After all, Anita had passed away a long time ago and her place was falling apart from neglect. We thought, especially me, that you missed all of us when we heard about the property sale. No one ever treated you different just because you came back here from the war, so when you started to turn away everyone’s offer to help you get the place back in shape…well, that didn’t set too well. Me? I told them over and over all you needed was time—that you must have gone through something horrible to make you act the way you are. You know what I just figured out? That you’re nothing but the bitter son of a bitch they said you were.”

Brenna could have cared less if Mason had taken her backpack full of clothes. She’d get some more apparel somewhere, but she wasn’t staying around here any longer than necessary. She’d done what needed to be done with her livestock, giving them their best chance at survival, and now she needed to do the same for herself. She walked over to her truck, got in, and went to start the engine when she realized her keys weren’t in the ignition. She swung a look over her shoulder to find Mason standing there with her keys swinging off of his finger, although there wasn’t a trace of a smile on his lips anywhere. She’d pissed him off just as he had her. Damn it. She shouldered open her door and got out of the truck.

BOOK: Buried Flames
4.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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