Rescuing Liberty: Perseverance Book 1 (19 page)

Ashley is asleep right
there. How dangerous could this be?
With that sound
logic in mind I sat with every intention of keeping at least six
inches between us at all times. Connor sighed.

“
What?” I asked.

“
I won’t bite.”

My hand instinctively went to my bitten ear.
The bleeding had stopped, but it was still tender. Connor pulled my
hand away so he could inspect the damage. He swore then grabbed me
by the waist and scooted me closer, turning my body so my back was
against his torso.

I leaned against his warm, hard chest and
guiltily enjoyed the comfort I found in his arms. The musky scent
of metal, earth, and man that made up Connor soothed my mind. “It
could have been a lot worse.”

His arms tightened around me. “Yeah, it
could have.”

“
His eyes were the worst part. When I
looked into them, I knew he was going to kill me.” At the memory,
my eyes stung, but I fought to keep the tears from falling. “And
when he left, I was happy. Then I felt horrible because he was
coming for you guys.”

“
Shh. That’s natural. You’re not
horrible. You were just afraid.” He kissed the top of my head.
“It’s over now. Done. You don’t have to think about it
anymore.”

I don’t remember falling asleep, but I must
have. I slept through the next day and the night that followed. The
time passed in a blur as I tossed and turned, restless and haunted
by memories. Every time I opened my eyes, Connor was by my side,
holding me. His breath on my cheek helped me forget about the taste
of Mark’s kisses. The light pressure of his arm resting against
mine erased the memory of Mark’s groping hands. I had been
arrogant, believing myself superior to “weaker women” who “allowed”
themselves to be beaten or raped. I had smugly thought such a thing
could never happen to me. But in the end, my ability to protect
myself had proven grossly inadequate. I was just as human as every
other woman. Mark could have raped or killed me and I would have
been powerless to stop him.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

THE MORNING OF the second day I finally got
out of bed. We ate our last warm meal from the grill—canned clam
chowder—and headed on our way, atop the bicycles. The front tire of
my bike was a little low, but other than that they were in great
condition. We quietly rode the path around the golf course at a
nice, steady pace. Despite Ashley's previous concerns, she rode
just fine, smiling as the slight wind played with her hair. The
rain had stopped, but the ground was still damp, and earth worms
slithered across the road. Ashley ran over one and voiced how
repulsive she thought worm guts were.

Connor laughed and set out to run down all
the worms he could find in order to capitalize on Ashley’s
disgusted reaction. It was easy to push aside the recent trauma
while we enjoyed the fresh, new day. The sun crept from behind the
clouds, choreographed to the chirping of the birds. Just an average
family, enjoying a morning bike ride, we laughed and joked for
almost a half hour before we rounded the last turn.

From the moment the clubhouse came into
view, I knew something was amiss. Unexplainable but equally
undeniable bad vibes seemed to roll off the siding. The building
was creepy to the nth degree. Connor waved us to a stop behind a
group of trees. He watched the clubhouse as we huddled close to
him.

“
This place gives me the creeps,” I
whispered.

He nodded. “We’re gonna have to skirt around
the main area. Stay on the path.” He put his foot on the pedal,
preparing to take off.

“
Wait,” I said. “Maybe we should ride
through the grass around it?”

He shook his head. “The ground is wet and
the grass is too long. These aren’t mountain bikes.”

“
We could just walk them?” I really
didn’t want to go as close to the building as the path would take
us, but I couldn’t explain why.

Connor thought for a moment, and then shook
his head again. “We ride. We have to be able to get away fast, just
in case.”

In case what?
I wondered. But truthfully I didn’t want to know.

He looked me over. “Where’s your gun?”

I dug through my pack, retrieved it, and
started to tuck it into the back of my jeans.

“
Take the safety off.”

I did as he ordered then secured it into my
waistband. Connor had been carrying the extra duffel bag of
supplies over his shoulder. He wrapped the straps securely around
the handlebar of his bike, freeing up his arms.

“
Everyone ready?” He put his foot on
the pedal and pushed off, without waiting for a
response.

Ready for what?

Our bikes slowly rolled forward and I
couldn’t shake the feeling that I was the stupid girl in some
horror flick; biking toward my doom while the audience yelled at me
to go the other direction. The sensation was stronger than a
premonition, but it wasn’t the
call
.

In the stillness, we heard what sounded like
someone splitting wood—only different. It was too late to turn
back, so we continued our apprehensive approach. We rounded the
corner of the building and people came into view. A couple lounged
on chairs chatting while a man wearing an apron methodically
cleaved into a corpse laid out on the table beside them. It took me
a moment to process what I was seeing. The corpse the man was
butchering had feet. Human feet. Comprehension hit me at the same
time Ashley gasped.

Three savage faces turned toward her, like a
pack of wild wolves eyeballing a rabbit.

Ashley perfected the role of frightened hare
and froze in terror. Her mouth hung open; her expression a mixture
of shock and disgust.

The sound of a gunshot woke me from my own
stupor. The butcher went down. I looked up to see Connor aiming to
take a second shot. I started to object. This wasn’t self-defense,
it was murder! We didn’t know the details, and we couldn’t just
walk up and start shooting people. But my protest froze on my lips
as the couple sprang toward us.

“
Ash, come on, we have to get out of
here!” I pleaded, but she was completely immobile.

Connor fired again, taking the second man in
the chest.

It all happened so fast, and before I could
blink the woman was almost upon Ashley. I ran in front of her
grabbing for my gun, but my hands shook and the gun slipped from my
grasp. A bloody knife came straight for me.

I closed my eyes, bracing for the
inevitable.

Another shot rang out.

I heard the impact of the bullet, and then
felt liquid wash over me, like a warm shower. I wiped it from my
eyelids and looked. Everything was red and blurry, but by my feet
was a crumpled corpse and I couldn’t help but notice that the head
was missing. I stared at the blood dripping down the front of me
and realized what happened to the head. I was wearing it.

“
Oh my—” was all I could get out
before I leaned over and heaved up my breakfast. The world rocked
and my vision darkened.
Breathe,
I reminded myself.
Just
breathe.

Connor had woken Ashley from her trance and
was encouraging her legs to begin pedal again.

“
Time to go, Libby,” he said.
“Now.”

“
I’m freaking trying!” I yelled back,
vexed by the fact that he sounded so calm when I had someone else’s
blood covering me.
A nightmare. No way is
this real, just get out of here and wake up
. I turned,
retrieved the gun I’d dropped and climbed back on my
bike.

Shouts came from the clubhouse and
additional people rushed out to greet us. All four of them fell to
Connor’s gun before I even started pedaling. He calmly replaced his
empty clip with a full one, climbed back on his bike, and took off.
I stared after him in awe.

Who is this guy?

Connor slowed until I passed him, and then
he kept watch behind us. We rode hard until we reached the East
Valley Highway. Ashley's color slowly started coming back, but she
still hadn’t spoken a word. I was worried, but didn’t feel that
approaching her while covered in gore was a good idea. Determined
to fix my current state, I stopped my bike and searched my pack for
a rag and a water bottle.

“
What are you doing? We have to keep
moving.” Connor asked, slowing to a stop beside me.

“
I have to get it off,” I replied and
doused the towel with water. Trying not to think about the fact
that I was about to wipe someone else’s face off my own, I raised
the moistened rag to my face. My hands shook. I tried to wipe the
blood away, but it had dried and felt like a crusted over
mess.

“
I can’t get it off!” I squirmed and
my bike slid to the ground, tripping me as it fell. I tried to
catch myself on the frame, but my hand slipped and I ended up on my
knees, intertwined in the frame of my bike.

Connor grabbed my arm before I had the
chance to shout any colorful obscenities. He untangled my limbs and
hoisted me up.

“
Let me help you.” He took the wet rag
away and started wiping.

I closed my eyes and tears welled up and
threatened to fall. I was a quivering, sniveling mess, and Connor
was calm and collected after shooting the head off a woman who'd
been less than a foot from me.

“
Talk to me Libby.” He sounded
worried, but his steady hands worked fast and efficiently. “You’re
tense. Heart’s pounding. You need to calm down.”

“
Y-Y-You shot her right in front of my
face!” My hands wrapped themselves around my stomach and I rocked
back and forth on my heels. “I am wearing another person!” I
shuddered as my gorge threatened to rise again. “Can’t I freak out
about that?” I opened my eyes and scowled at Connor. “And you! You
could have killed me. What the heck were you doing?”

He grabbed my chin and forced my eyes to
meet his. “Saving your life. Now close your eyes.”

I complied and he gently ran the rag over my
eyelids.

“
W-W-Who are you, anyway?” I
asked.

Connor tugged at a clump of
I-don’t-even-want-to-know-what in my hair.

“
Lawyers do
not
shoot like that,” I told him.

“
Uncle Connor was in the army,” Ashley
said.

He turned toward her. “You knew about
that?”

“
Dad carried your army picture in his
wallet.”

“
Army? Why didn’t you tell me?” I
studied the man, wondering what other secrets he kept.

He tossed the ruined, bloody rag into the
ditch on the side of the road. “Why didn’t you ask?”

“
I can’t believe you just littered,” I
said, pointing to the rag.

He looked at me like I was the craziest
woman on the planet. And at that moment, he was probably right.

“
Never mind,” I said. “I don’t even
care.” I picked up my bike. “Right now, all I want to do is shave
my head and bathe in bleach.”

“
Right.” He nodded as he climbed on
his own bike. “Then let’s get out of here.”

Since putting more miles between us and the
clubhouse of death seemed like a good idea, I eagerly complied.
Working under the delusion that we could outrun the nightmares, I
pedaled hard. During our flight, my mind tried to connect what I
knew with what I saw. I knew that the lives we’d just taken had
once been human; with families, jobs, dreams, ambitions, and
feelings. But what I saw proved the possibility that people could
no longer be human.

I looked at my adopted family and silently
prayed that the same would never happen to us.

* * *

The plan was to skirt around Auburn then take
Highway 18 northeast, skipping most of Seattle's populated
outskirts. Then we'd hit Highway 203 to Monroe. There was such a
long way to go that planning beyond Monroe seemed futile. We tried
to focus on the immediate task at hand to avoid being discouraged
about the long term. The depressing reality was that even Monroe
was a significant distance, and if we made it that far I would
count it a miracle.

After about six hours Ashley’s bike started
leaning to the right and I was afraid she’d fall asleep mid-pedal.
Truth be told, my legs and butt hurt so bad I was concerned that
I’d never be able to walk again if we didn’t stop soon.

“
Connor.” I nodded toward the
girl.

He studied Ashley’s movements for a moment
and nodded. “There’s some houses ahead on the right.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “You look a
little beat yourself.”

The side of his mouth twitched. “I’m not
even gonna say what you look like.”

“
You’re such a jerk,
Connor.”

“
What? I didn’t even say
it.”

* * *

We found a modest, vacant house at the
edge of the housing development Connor had spotted. After stashing
our bikes under a bush we entered to investigate. No death smells,
no disgustingly disfigured bodies, and no one eating anyone else.
It was like a little piece of Heaven. I took a deep breath through
my nose and enjoyed the absence of menacing odors.
It’s all about finding joy in the little
things.

The house was a one level bungalow, probably
built in the early sixties and never redecorated. The walls had
been painted in shades of green better left to vegetables, and the
orange shag carpet had never been a good idea. Family photos and
knick-knacks covered the walls and all available surfaces of the
place. Magazines for every interest were laid out on the coffee
table and a stack of old newspapers rested beside a big,
comfy-looking lazy boy.