Cinder Road (Scorch Series Romance Thriller Book 2) Read online

  Good. Maybe he was thinking over what she’d said. It was ridiculous not to share their provisions with these obviously orphaned children. But Dolf was right. Nando hadn’t prepared for the disaster like Dolf had, and if he’d had anything to spare, they would have given it all away.

  She squatted down with the bag of food and started pulling packets out, handing them to the children. She showed Debra how to make the freeze-dried food using the water, pouring it into the bag and shaking it up.

  Dolf approached, watching her with his cold eyes.

  She frowned. “You can go. I’m not leaving these kids alone here.” She handed a package of freeze-dried ice cream to Sam, who gave her a wide smile in return.

  Dolf strode away. She glanced up to see him heading for the Humvee. Would he really leave her? Her stomach roiled again.

  If he did, then it was meant to be. She wasn’t abandoning these children.

  Dolf opened up the back of the Humvee and pulled out Slash’s carrying crate. Avital breathed a little easier as he returned. Dolf opened Slash’s cage on the bottom step of the bus, and the cat meowed before sauntering out into the vehicle.

  The children were delighted. They gathered around the old tomcat, petting him, and Slash basked in their attention. Debra scratched behind his one ear, and Slash purred almost as loudly as the Humvee’s engine.

  “I’ll be back,” Dolf said quietly. “You have your pistol?” Avital nodded, unable to look him in the eye—she was just feeling way too much. Just when she had geared up to hate him, he did something like this.

  She stole a glance at him as he walked away, watching him get into the Humvee and the huge armored thing roaring into life. She watched until he drove out of sight, tears spontaneously welling from her eyes. She was helpless to control her reaction to seeing Dolf leave—he drove her crazy, but she missed him the minute he was gone.

  The little boy with a broken arm, Sam, took her hand. She looked down at him and smiled. He was so sweet, gazing at her with serious gray eyes.

  “What’s wrong? Did your Mommy and Daddy die, too?”

  Avital choked back a sob and brushed the tears from her face as she nodded. “Yes. I lost my mommy and daddy, too.”

  A deep frown tightened his young face. “I’m sorry.”

  Avital crouched down next to him and touched his shoulder. “But we’re okay, aren’t we?”

  He nodded, finishing the last of the treat she’d given him. She glanced down the empty street where Dolf had been only a moment ago. She might never see him again. Even if he intended to return, a million things could go wrong in this terrible new world—for either of them.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dolf

  Dolf’s heart beat with heavy thuds and his hands were sweaty on the wheel as he drove up and down the streets of the ghost town, looking for someone, anyone, to ask for help for a busload of children. Avital meant what she’d said—he knew she wouldn’t leave them—and the truth was, he was desperate to help those kids, too.

  Driving the bus to the Haven wasn’t a possibility—two tires were flat, to begin with, and he’d checked the gas tank—it was empty, even if the vehicle ran. There was no way to take such a gas-guzzler all that distance. The Humvee was challenge enough, and they’d be stranded right here too, if he couldn’t find some way to refuel in this town.

  Where had everyone gone?

  He took another turn, replaying his and Avital’s conflicts since they’d killed Rusty and Joey. She really seemed to hate him now, rejecting his every attempt to take care of her and protect her. Calling him a monster. And what had she meant with that comment about being a terrible father? It had never occurred to him that he’d ever be a father, because the one woman he might have wanted a family with was already taken.

  Nando, though, would have been a great dad. She’d picked the right brother for that—only he was dead now.

  “Damn you, Nando. Why’d you have to go and die on us?” Bitterness and grief soured his mouth. At least, if they’d had a child, he could have been an uncle and continued to be a peripheral part of their family unit.

  Turning a corner, he saw a pall of smoke in the distance and headed for it.

  The fire was a body burn pile in the middle of the town’s park. The smell, obscenely like barbecue, curdled his stomach as he slowed the Humvee, looking for a place to park among a jammed cluster of vehicles. He locked it and patted his twin Glocks reflexively, heading for a cluster of men wearing masks and gloves who were unloading a pickup truck full of bodies to add to the pyre.

  The smell of decomposition and burning meat was horrific. Nausea swamped him, reminding him of Avital’s weird illness of the last few days—it really seemed to come and go. At least she’d slept a lot and that would help her heal. Whatever it was, thank God it wasn’t Scorch Flu.

  Wouldn’t it be ironic if some other sickness were the thing that killed them?

  There were so damn many ways to die in this terrible new world.

  Dolf refocused himself on the task at hand as he reached the body truck. “Who’s in charge here?”

  A man with tired brown eyes and silver hair, beard stubble framing his mask, raised a hand. Dolf noted that all the men were older, at least in their forties.

  “My sister-in-law and I were passing through your town and we found a busload of children all alone. Looks like someone was trying to get them to safety, there are blankets and such on board—but the adults died, or abandoned them, we’re not sure. Know anyone who can help?”

  The silver-haired man nodded. “I’m Jed. Jed Fillmore. As you can see, we’ve been hit hard by the flu.” He gestured to the crackling pyre. “Those of us left are working hard to regain some sort of order. We have an orphanage of sorts set up at one of the schools. There’s a teacher running it—Susan Rhymes is her name.”

  Dolf got the location and thanked Fillmore.

  “No, thank you. We want to look after our children. You’ve done us a service, too.”

  “I hope so. We need gas, as well. Know anywhere I can get some to buy or trade?”

  “You’ll have to trade.” Jed ran an eye over Dolf’s black combat clothing and weapons. “Food or ammo is the preferred currency.” He gave a station location near the school.

  Dolf thanked the man and left, wishing he could help with the gruesome chore, but also glad he couldn’t take the time. Every unprotected moment Avital and those children were alone sawed at his nerves.

  He stopped for gas first, trading a full box of shotgun shells and Glock ammo along with a flat of canned chili for a fill-up of his spare gas containers and the Humvee’s huge tank.

  The orphanage was a high school campus with long, low buildings in a pentagon shape around a central courtyard. Dolf could hear laughter and someone singing the alphabet song as he approached the school office. It was so refreshing after the scene he’d just left—but then, here he was at a high school filled with orphans.

  A woman looked up from a desk as he entered. She pushed reading glasses on a beaded chain onto the top of her head. Tufts of unruly gray hair circled her face like a sheepdog’s coat. Her eyes were brown and warm but he saw her hand move under the desk, like she was grabbing a weapon down there. “How can I help you?”

  Dolf smiled, and realized it was the first time he’d done that in over a week. “I’ve found some children. Thirteen of them, actually.” He introduced himself and told his tale. “My sister-in-law is a doctor and is watching them now.”

  The woman stood up. “Oh my. This requires my immediate attention.” She rang a big old-fashioned hand bell on her desk and, moments later, a boy appeared, his gap-toothed smile wide. “Yes, Ms. Rhymes?”

  “Tell Miss Butler I need to go with this man, that some more boys and girls are coming to join us.”

  The child trotted off. Rhymes reached under the desk and brought out a shotgun. She slung it over her shoulder by a strap. A smile lifted one side of her mouth as she caught Dolf’s expression. “Yo
u didn’t think I’d just go off with a strange man in times like these, did you?”

  “It’s good to be ready for anything.” Dolf patted his weapons. “These are crazy times.”

  “And we’ve run into our share of them here, too,” Rhymes said, her mouth grim. “Take me to these kids.”

  Avital came to the door of the bus as the Humvee pulled up, and the expression of relief on her face when she saw him warmed Dolf as deeply as if she’d touched him—had she imagined for a moment that he’d abandon her?

  She and Susan Rhymes hit it off immediately, as Dolf had known they would. Avi’s color was better. He hoped she’d eaten some of those freeze-dried rations she’d given the kids, and been able to keep the food down. He relaxed as the women met, immediately hugging.

  He stood guard outside as they went into the bus, and their voices mixed with those of the children lifted his spirits. Exclaiming over the kids, with every appearance of delight to find and meet them, Rhymes used a handheld radio to call for another ride to take them back to the high school.

  The two women told the kids to pack up anything they wanted to bring, and they exited the bus, joining Dolf on the asphalt. “A parent volunteer with a truck is on his way.” Rhymes put a hand on Avital’s arm, appealing. “We don’t have regular access to a doctor. Can you come to the high school, take a look at some of the children? No plague victims so far, thank God—but we’ve got other medical issues that need attention.” Rhymes gestured to Dolf. “You both are welcome to spend the night. Please, join us. We have cots, food, and showers. Everything.”

  “I’d really like that.” Avital’s big brown eyes shone. She looked in the pink of health. “Please, Dolf. We can take one night off from traveling.”

  He couldn’t refuse her anything, especially when she said “please, Dolf” like that. God, what he wouldn’t give to hear her say that to him in bed.

  “Of course. That would be fine,” he said stiffly.

  They packed the Humvee with kids and Slash continued to be a hit as they made the drive to the high school, following the pickup truck with Rhymes and the parent volunteer in it, the back filled with older kids. Dolf found himself smiling as they drove, and then he felt Avital’s warm hand on his thigh. He dropped his hand from the steering wheel and she took it, squeezing it in hers.

  “I’m sorry for calling you a monster. And for…the other day, too, when I said that about your…” she gestured to the door of the Humvee, not speaking of the treasure, for which he was grateful with four pairs of ears listening from the back seat. “I’ve been so angry about all that’s happened, but I know you’ve been doing your best. Trying to help. None of it is your fault.”

  Dolf glanced at her. “You don’t have to apologize.” I love you.

  He bit his lip and managed to stop the words from tumbling out. Damn, but he was losing it. She turned to the kids in the back. They were still bouncing and excited to be riding in a real Army Humvee.

  “Should people apologize when they do wrong, kids?”

  “Yes!” They chorused loudly.

  “What about when they say something mean, or call someone a name?”

  “YES!” That came back even louder.

  “So there. Case closed. I’m sorry for being so mean.” Avital leaned over and kissed Dolf on the cheek, and the kids clapped from the back seat.

  Emotion swelled Dolf’s chest, a painful tightness that made his eyes tingle. He had to cough to get a breath.

  So, that’s how happiness felt. Kind of like having a heart attack. He’d so seldom experienced true joy.

  Nando’d had a talent for happiness, an energy that lifted those around him, while Dolf didn’t seem to feel the same positive emotions, let alone inspire them in others.

  “You just need to let go, learn to be in the moment,” Nando insisted one day when they were playing racquetball. Dolf had complained about Nando’s laughter and looseness as his twin bounced around the court, nailing Dolf regularly with well-aimed hits. In contrast, the speed and intensity of the game wound Dolf tighter in concentration, activating the focused, laser-like drive he experienced when he wanted something.

  Dolf had responded by smacking the ball hard into the wall. It ricocheted off and Nando dove for it with a shout. The ball had bounced against the wall and Dolf couldn’t get out of the way before it nailed him right in the balls.

  His vision swirled and nausea surged through him as he cupped himself.

  Nando ran over, laughing. “You bastard,” Dolf had wheezed.

  Nando laid a hand on his shoulder. “Chill, bro.” Dolf shook his head, pain still radiating through his body. “Seriously, if you manage to relax for just this one game I’ll….” Nando looked around, as if searching for a prize to award Dolf in the event he actually enjoyed himself. “Well, I’ll let you win.” Nando grinned.

  Dolf barked a laugh. He always won. But something about the combination of physical pain, Nando’s infectious joy, and the endorphins from the exercise had allowed Dolf to let go of the outcome. It was the last time he could remember feeling pure happiness. Contentment, a satisfaction when he’d achieved something, or physical pleasure from sex or climbing were what he usually knew—and anxiety was a familiar and well-concealed friend.

  Of course, he’d won the game…but he hadn’t even cared. Being with Nando and having fun was its own reward. He’d been able to stay in the moment, experiencing a vicarious dose of his twin’s good nature.

  Now Nando was gone, and his twin’s wife had just given Dolf a moment of joy so keen that it felt like pain.

  The rush of grief that followed almost bowed him.

  Fortunately, they’d reached the high school. In the chaos of their arrival, Dolf was able to slip away once the children and Avital were inside, and return to the Humvee. Getting into his familiar seat, he put his head against the steering wheel and cried his heart out for the second time in his adult life.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dolf

  Dolf finished sorting and repacking the Humvee, refreshing their water containers and redistributing the food to be more accessible as Avital did a final round of checkups and said her good-byes at the orphanage.

  It had been refreshing to eat a simple beans-and-rice meal with the kids and staff in the cafeteria, to throw a ball with the children out on the field as the sun was going down, and to bed down in a classroom on a cot with the other adult volunteers. The orphanage was surprisingly well-organized, with shifts of adults supervising the kids, a daily schedule of lessons and activities, and even counseling services provided by a psychologist donating her time.

  For what it was, it was a beautiful thing.

  Avital had inoculated all of the adult volunteers with the vaccine disguised as a B12 booster shot. There were too many children to vaccinate, but given the virus’s usual pattern, the children would probably be okay if they were still alive at this point. They just had to hope so.

  Avital only agreed to leave after Dolf told her there were likely other children who needed her help on the road ahead, and promising that he’d stop to let her tend to people.

  He wondered what sort of Pandora’s box he’d opened with that pledge.

  Dolf had strong reservations about stopping, because once the news got out that there was a competent doctor at the orphanage, Avital had been overrun with people to treat. Even now, in their last moments at the high school she was checking an older woman’s throat and eyes at the doorway of the orphanage.

  Dolf had removed a box of ammo from the door of the Humvee the night before, making sure his extraction went unnoticed. Inside the vehicle, he’d used a heavy combat knife to shave five of the bullets down into several ounces of pure gold, storing it in a plastic baggie. He’d stashed the shavings under his seat, and now he slipped the plastic baggie into his pocket. Back inside the school, he passed Avital and walked into the principal’s office, where Susan Rhymes was already at her desk, head bent over some papers.

  He wai
ted until he had the woman’s attention. “Thanks for having us and giving us a night of good rest. We so appreciate all you’re doing.”

  Rhymes shrugged. “I do what I can. It’s a drop in the bucket.” She looked tired, but there was a glow about her—Dolf recognized the satisfaction that comes from doing something you are passionate about. Avital had it, too.

  “You do more than anyone else I’ve seen since this disaster started.” Dolf set the baggie of gold shavings on the desk in front of her. “A little something to help your efforts.”

  She picked up the gold, her brows drawing together. “What’s this?”

  “Gold. Twenty-four karat. It should hold its value in trade.”

  Rhymes’s warm brown gaze flew to his, then over his shoulder to the doorway. Dolf turned. Avital was standing there, her mouth hanging open. It gave him an odd, savage thrill to have surprised her.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Rhymes said. “I can only thank you both, for your gifts.”

  “It’s the least we can do.” Dolf emphasized the word, reaching back for Avital’s hand. She let him take it, coming to stand beside him, and he gave it a squeeze. “I wish we could do more.”

  Avital nodded, and Dolf was grateful she didn’t expect him to empty the Humvee on the orphanage’s doorstep. As they said their goodbyes, Avital and Rhymes hugged for a long time and both of them were teary when they parted.

  Rhymes turned to Dolf. “You.” She embraced him, and her rumpled gray hair tickled his cheek as she spoke in his ear. “You try to act all bad. But I see your heart.”

  Dolf’s eyes prickled. He grasped the woman’s shoulders and gazed into her homely, beautiful face. She saw him. Emotion strangled his voice. “Thank you.”

  Getting on the road, just the two of them and Slash, on their way to somewhere better, Dolf’s chest felt tight, unfamiliar, full of something fleeting and good. He kept his hands on the wheel and his eyes on the unfurling landscape before them.