Buried Flames (19 page)

Brenna contained a shiver of fear at the thought of running into any more trouble. The rest of the trip itself had gone relatively smooth, besides the fact that Ace’s wound had become infected. From what she gathered, the bullet he’d taken had passed through, but it may have left debris inside of him.

Mason believed it was the early onset of septicemia or a pulmonary infection due to the fact that Ace couldn’t breathe deeply, causing fluid to build up in his lungs. He needed to be cared for in a proper hospital and he was in need of mass spectrum antibiotics, specifically designed to fight gram-negative infections. She hoped he would attain them soon.

A grey-stained American flag hung limp on its pole next to the post office. The white stripes were hard to see, but it was the stars that were barely perceptible against their blue field. There was a café on the corner with gunshot holes in the windows. Brenna had heard a lot about that place—especially the owner, Mabel. She’d apparently been harboring a crush on Tank for quite a while, but he never took their relationship further than friendship. Maybe that would change now that they were thrown together twenty-four seven and time had taken on a whole new meaning.

“Lockton can’t be happy about that,” Mason murmured, easing Sergeant through the streets of Lost Summit. Brenna remembered he’d said Pete Lockton owned the grocery store and when she glanced over, she caught sight of the boarded-up windows, which someone had taken the time to pry open to ransack the place. “Brenna, use one hand to hold Sam. I want your MP5 in your other—full auto.”

Well, that sounded ominous, but Brenna didn’t hesitate slide the submachine gun around from where it hung over her shoulder after she maneuvered Sam a little bit to the left. Major was still walking alongside them, although there had been times Mason would indicate for them to trot. Now wasn’t that time when they didn’t know what was ahead of them.

“You never did tell Tank or Mav about Ace, did you?”

“No.” Mason didn’t sound as if he were about to explain his reasoning either, bringing them back to when they first started this journey…when he withheld information from her. Brenna had thought they’d be past this barrier and she smiled to herself when she realized she’d been right. He finally continued and quenched her thirst of knowledge. “I didn’t want anyone to overhear our transmission and know Fairfax was traveling with us. According to him, there’s still at least one more man out there who’s an unknown threat. Trust me, if he’s telling the truth about these men being NSA…we don’t want to borrow trouble when we desperately don’t need any more than we already have.”

“Do you think Ace will make it?” Brenna asked, flickering a glance over at his limp body. He’d been unconscious now for close to four hours, but there wasn’t a single thing they could do. Or was there? “Mason, what about the pharmacy here in town? We can grab—”

“Trust me,” Mason assured her as they started to leave the town behind them as they headed east parallel to the river, “Tank and Henley would have moved everything and anything of use up to the bunker hospital. Remember, they had days to prepare before the ash even reached this place.”

Brenna fell silent, remembering Mason telling her the lodge was at least a twenty-minute drive from town. It would be longer on horseback moving at a walk. She couldn’t help but constantly check their surroundings the closer they came to safety. It seemed as if the whole thing would come apart. She didn’t want anything to happen this close to crossing the finish line and finding civilization again.

They were now climbing the incline of the main road and the farther away from town they traveled, the deeper into the wilderness they got. The scenery wasn’t soothing in any manner, with the ground covered in light grey ash that showed no signs of crumbling and washing away any time soon. The trees had lost their leaves as if fall had arrived early and left what looked like some deserted forest that had been long forgotten. Visibility was better up here than from where they had come from, but the view was a hell of a lot more desolate than it had once been.

Brenna thought of the townsfolk up at the lodge. Those people didn’t know her at all, but to her they were almost friends. Mason had shared many, many stories about his teammates and the massive building projects they’d done inside the bunker that they thought Tank would never have to use. He certainly proved them completely wrong, didn’t he? She was looking forward to meeting all of them and yet they still seemed so far away.

“There’s a tango at the top of the rock outcropping on our left,” Mason murmured casually, making it hard to hear him through his mask. Brenna’s heart rate spiked and she struggled to swallow as she waited to hear a gunshot or feel the impact of a bullet. Which would happen first? She’d never thought to ask, but then again, she didn’t want to know. “Could be one of the observation posts that Tank and Mav have positioned around the area.”

“And it might not be? You’re not making me feel much better.” Brenna tried to capture any movement out of her peripheral vision, but she couldn’t see what Mason was talking about. “What should we do?”

“Nothing until I make the first move. Then I want you to hose down the woods on the left.”

Brenna wasn’t so sure that was a wise idea, but Mason was the veteran here. Her body was starting to ache from the built-up tension and Sam’s attention was directly toward the area where Mason had indicated the
tango
would be. At least she’d figured out what that word meant a few weeks ago.

“Didn’t you say there was another stray group around the area? What if it’s them or their lookouts?” Brenna hadn’t really thought of it until now, but there were a lot of factors trying to prevent them from reaching their destination. “Is there another way up to the lodge?”

“Yes, but only on foot and its miles around over the top of the mountain from the north.” Mason never stopped the pace they were going and he didn’t appear too bothered by the fact that someone was watching them. Brenna couldn’t help but wonder if it was through binoculars or crosshairs. “And we already passed the area where the other group Mav mentioned is holed up. They are using Rat’s old mine and traveling into town over this very same road to scrounge for supplies.”

Ah, Rat. The name gave Brenna someone else to think about besides the person currently watching their every move. Stanley “Rat” Ratliff owned the Summit Creek Camping Grounds located east and further south of Lost Summit. He apparently wasn’t very fond of Tank, considering him to be some kind of forlorn opponent in a childish competition that had turned deadly. That wasn’t the way Tank or anyone else saw it, but no one could seem to change Rat’s mindset.

According to Mason, there was quite a story attached to the man. Rat had decided he was staying at the silver mine located on the backside of his property instead of joining the others up at Tank’s fishing lodge after the eruption happened. He’d somehow convinced a few of his friends as well, thus splitting the townsfolk’s loyalty.

“You mentioned that Rat’s son was dead, right?” Brenna asked, confirming part of the story to relieve some of her stress.

It hadn’t been long after the eruption that Rat’s son had decided they should take over the lodge because of the natural springs, countless supplies, and a fully loaded bunker ready to use. He’d even gone so far as to kidnap one of his teammate’s girlfriend, Henley Varano. All of that drama had only resulted in his death while miraculously resulting in Rat and what little friends he had left moving up to the fishing lodge to join Tank and the rest of the townsfolk.

“Yes, he’s dead.” Mason reached around her and stroked Sam’s fur with his worn leather glove. Brenna had been doing her best to keep the flakes of ash off of Sam’s coat, but it was continuous. “Sam here doesn’t feel too threatened, so we’re going to continue up the road to the fishing lodge’s entrance. Mav mentioned he had a guard or two stationed there and that they would be on the lookout for us.”

“What if Sam’s wrong?” Brenna warily asked, trying to think back to a time when Sam had ever led her astray. It had never happened, so why then was the hair on her neck standing at attention?

“Don’t start losing faith now,” Mason advised lightheartedly, when his usual attitude was anything but. “Hell, you were just starting to rub off on me.”

M
ason was ninety-nine
percent sure the silhouette he’d caught sight of between the trees attempting to flank them was Owen Quade. Tracking was his specialty, along with the ability to pass without leaving a trace of his movements, and he was damned good at it. Mason had not seen any telltale signs of a regular sentry’s movement on the road they were coming in on. The only reason he knew someone was up there had been because of Sam, and the way he was watching intently instead of jumping off of Sergeant’s back gave him reassurance it was a friend or another animal. Either way, it was not a foe.

“You’re already acting different,” Brenna mumbled underneath her mask, causing Mason’s half-smile to fade. Was he different when he was here? Probably. He didn’t have to hide who he was and that mattered. “I could get used to this side of Mason Sykes.”

No, she couldn’t, but Mason wasn’t about to tell her that at this juncture. Brenna’s posture told him all he needed to know about her concern for the situation they were in. She should stay that way, because it would most likely save her life at some point, but he also didn’t want her mistakenly making a decision that would cost them their lives either.

“I think it’s Owen who’s tracking us, and most likely one or two of the men and women helping with the security detail Tank and Mav have no doubt set up. Another fifteen minutes in and we’ll know for sure.”

Mason kept a vigilant watch for anything and everything in the area while thinking back on the past three weeks it had taken to get here. He hadn’t meant to open up about his life to Brenna throughout these long, torturous days. He’d asked her probing questions to keep her awake and alert, but with every inquiry about her…she’d asked one of her own. The connection between them had grown in spite of his intentions, but he held out hope they would be able to resolve her misconceptions shortly.

“Once we reach the checkpoint, one of the guards will most likely know who I am or go fetch Tank or Mav,” Mason replied, seeing that Sam had tilted his head at the sound of a branch cracking. It was from up high in the trees, so it most likely cracked due to the weight of the ash. “I’m not sure where they’ll put you up for lodging yet, but you’ll be safe.”

“Is this your fancy way of saying I’m on my own now?”

Mason had steeled himself against the hurt he thought he would hear in her voice, but all he recognized was her anger. It wasn’t the reaction he’d expected, but he could easily deal with it. After that first long layover, he’d kept Brenna close for security purposes. She somehow always managed to end up in his arms and that was something he couldn’t get used to.

“You’re not on your own, Brenna,” Mason said reassuringly, not wanting Brenna to ever feel like she was an outsider. That wasn’t his intention. “These are good people who you can trust.”

“I trust you, Mason.” Brenna rested her hand in which she held her weapon onto his leg beside her to emphasize her point. “I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work. I’m not going to fall for the same shit twice.”

Mason shook his head at the unveiled threat. What could she want from him? Friendship? Well, she’d get enough of that at the lodge from everyone. He’d somehow miraculously gotten them here—not that she hadn’t pulled their asses out of the fire more than once, because she had—but that was what he’d promised her that very first day…nothing else.

“You want the truth, as sick as it may sound?” Mason asked, knowing Brenna deserved to understand why he was the way he was. He didn’t have to say anything, considering they were almost to the checkpoint by his judgment, but he didn’t want things left unresolved when he could feel the continual ball of stress start to unravel at the thought of being back in his element. “This natural disaster, as devastating as it has been and will continue to be to humankind, gave me something back.
This
is who I am. I’m a warrior. I’m a skilled tactician. I live and breathe when I’m in this element. Otherwise, I just exist outside the realm of man.”

“You’re right about one thing,” Brenna said with a small laugh. Mason wasn’t sure if it was to make him or her feel better. “It’s a bit abnormal to enjoy an apocalypse, but I do understand what you’re saying. What I don’t accept is your willingness to close yourself off to anything else.”

“I’ve told you repeatedly that I came back a changed man—one full of anger. It’s not just over important things, but everything. It’s not something I can control and that’s…well, that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? I need solitude or war.”

Mason stopped talking, quite shocked at himself really, for sharing as much as he had. Maybe it was because he couldn’t see the look on Brenna’s face or maybe it was because he thought they’d never speak about this again. In the end, it didn’t matter.