Quentin was standing casually in the hall when I stepped out of Whit’s room a little before dawn. He lowered his head in a little nod when our eyes met.

“Jack told me you snuck out of your place last night. Thought you might want a ride back home.”

“It’s not necessary. I don’t want to put anyone out.”

“You’re not. I offered.”

I glanced back at the door.

“Patrick’s back, and he’s aware of what’s going on. He’ll listen out for her.”

“I appreciate it.”

He shrugged. “It’s what we do for our brothers.”

That surprised me a little. “I didn’t think you considered me one of you.”

Quentin rolled his shoulders, tilting his head as he regarded me. “You’ve always been one of us. We just weren’t sure we could trust you until Jack told us you willingly took a beating to get back into the Guardians to get information for us. And then you got the name of the man we’d been looking for for months.” He shook his head. “You did what even Jack couldn’t do.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“It’s a pretty big thing, Matthew. You’re going to help us shut them down. All of us have a reason to stop these people. Patrick was nearly killed by that Briggs fellow, and it was that Young person who stole my family’s ranch from them. I might have gotten it back, but I’m not ready to forgive and forget.” He was quiet for a second. “And if what Jack’s telling us is true, we could be stopping a holocaust here. So, yeah, what you did is a big thing.”

 

 

After a shower, I wandered out into the kitchen to find my father at the table, watching the news and eating bacon and eggs like he’d done every morning of every day of my life. He must have cooked for himself this time, unhappy with the bran flakes he’d been eating in my mother’s absence. I found that amusing for some reason.

“Long night?”

I shrugged.

“I have a meeting with Todd Lawson this evening. I thought you might want to tag along, learn a little about church business now that you’re back in the fold.”

My eyebrows rose. It was like he had read my mind.

“I’d like that.”

“Good.” He gestured to the wall, to the landline that we still archaically kept up with. “Tucker called. He needs you at the ranch today, so I told the crew to go ahead and do the installations on their own today.”

“Yes, sir.”

He got up and put his dish in the sink, the food only half eaten. Must not have liked his own cooking.

My father stood beside me for a long moment, his gaze moving to the air vents briefly. “Be careful,” he finally said in a normal tone of voice. “Your mother wouldn’t appreciate it if I let anything happen to you in her absence.”

“I will.”

He studied me a moment longer, then turned to go.

I retreated back to the bedroom and put on one of Jack’s shirts.

Now was the time.

 

 

The ranch was overrun with Guardians holding assault rifles. It made me nervous. Someone was going to get accidentally shot eventually, and then things would become even more complicated than they already were. I wondered if Tucker had considered that possibility.

“Do not jerk the trigger!” I called as I watched the same group of losers attempt to hit the targets on the side of the barn. Once again, they missed more often than they hit. And most of them weren’t prepared for the recoil, their shoulders jerking back and causing the muzzle to pull up. It was ridiculous.

Someone was so going to get hurt.

Tucker appeared mid-afternoon, coming up behind me without warning.

“We need to talk, Mr. Pearce.”

I glanced at him, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was watching the disaster unfolding in front of me. We stood there for a long few minutes, then he just turned away, expecting me to follow behind him.

We went into the storage building again, those same goons on the door. I turned my body toward them, making sure the camera button got a good view of their faces. Maybe Jack could identify them. Maybe it would help.

We stepped inside the building, and the first thing I saw was the person in the chair sitting in the center of the room. His head was tilted forward, his face unknowable, but the restraints on his hands suggested he wasn’t someone the Guardians considered a friend.

Another vagrant?

But there was something familiar about his red hair.

“You know this man, don’t you?” Tucker demanded, grabbing the man’s chin and forcing his head up. He’d been badly beaten, but I knew him instantly. It was Quentin Forrester.

I bit back the gasp that tried to escape my lips.

“One of my men saw him leaving the neighborhood where you live. He was curious about what he was doing there, so he followed him to his ranch and asked him.”

I shook my head as I stared at Quentin. His eyes were swollen, his jaw darkened with blood and bruises. The beating they’d given him was clearly worse than the one I’d suffered. Yet, he managed to widen his eyes enough, to make enough of an expression, to assure me that I wasn’t to break my cover no matter what.

Could I really stand here and watch them torture this man who had called himself my brother just this morning? I hoped to all hell that Jack was watching this, that he was making a plan to come get Quentin out of this situation.

“He wouldn’t tell us anything, of course,” Tucker said. “But it is curious. You give up half your brothers five months ago, and then you join the ranks of our enemy. Then you come back, promising that you’ve broken all ties with them, but one of their own is found driving in your neighborhood.” Tucker dropped Quentin’s head and stared at me. “It defies all logic, Mr. Pearce.”

“I don’t know what he was doing there.”

“Don’t you? Why would he be in that area if it wasn’t to see you?”

I glanced at Quentin’s bent head. “I don’t know. Maybe he was just checking the neighborhood out for some reason. Maybe he has a friend in that area.” I shook my head. “He’s lived in this town all his life. How am I supposed to know why he was driving down a street that leads to dozens of homes, to businesses just down the block?”

“Businesses that weren’t open at that hour of the day! It was five o’clock in the morning!”

“Maybe he forgot the way to Mr. Tan’s donut shop.”

Tucker’s face turned red. “You think you’re going to play games with me, and I’m just going to fall in line? You really think that I believe that you aren’t still working with Stone Security? Your sister and mother disappear right after I threaten them. Your girlfriend goes into hiding not long after. And you, suddenly coming back to the fold after you told your father you would never come back, you’d never again believe in the things we believed in?” He took a step toward me, pushing my shoulder. “I never believed a damn thing you said! Taking that beating proved nothing! And where did you go afterward? Do you really expect me to believe that you were laid up at your parents’ house that whole time? We have recording devices in there. We never heard a damn sound out of your bedroom!”

“If you don’t trust me, then why do you keep telling me all your secrets?”

“You really think I’ve told you everything? You must be a bigger fool than I think you are.” He pulled a gun from behind his back, aiming it in both hands at my head. “I’m done with you, Mr. Pearce. I don’t fucking care who your father is!”

I saw him pull the trigger, felt the bullet go past my head. It missed by mere inches. It took him a second to realize what had happened, and that second was all I needed. I stepped forward and grabbed the barrel of the gun, slamming my fist into his stomach. He doubled over, the motion allowing me to wrench the gun out of his hand. I slammed it against the back of his skull, watched him fall to the ground in a huge heap of nothing.

“Asshole!” I cried, slamming my foot into his side.

Quentin mumbled something, but I couldn’t quite make out what it was. I lifted his head again, aware of slight gurgling sounds in his chest as he struggled to breathe in that position. He looked up at me, something like gratitude in his eyes.

“I’m going to get you out of here.”

Almost as though on some sort of cue, Quentin’s cell phone rang. I glanced over my shoulder at the door, expecting Tucker’s guards to come in at any second. I found the phone in Quentin’s pocket and managed to pull it free, Jack’s name flashing on the screen.

“We’re watching,” he announced the moment I connected the call.

“We have to get Quentin out of here.”

“You, too.”

“No, Jack. My father has arranged a meeting with me, him, and Lawson tonight. If I can get him on tape—”

“It’s too dangerous now. Tucker thinks he knows you’re a plant. If he goes to Lawson, it could be all over for you.”

“Then we don’t let him do that.”

“What do you have in mind?”

I remembered from my last visit to this building that there was a door at the back of the building. I couldn’t carry two disabled men out, but if we could get a vehicle…

“I have a plan. Trust me.”

I disconnected the phone and slipped it into my pocket.

“I’ll be right back.”

I went to the door, the one mercenary standing to attention when he heard me. The other was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he’d gone on a potty break.

“Tucker wants his car brought around to the back of the building. He wants to take the prisoner out of here.”

The man frowned. “He told us that he was going to parade the man in front of the men. Show them what disloyalty means.”

“He changed his mind.”

The mercenary stared at me. “Where’s Tucker?”

“Busy. Do you really want to piss him off? He’s already pretty annoyed with these losers who can’t seem to learn how to fire an assault rifle.”

He glanced at the barn, where my group of students was still struggling to hit the targets. “All right,” he finally said. “I’ll bring it around.”

“Leave the keys inside. He’ll let you know when he’s ready to move the prisoner.”

The man didn’t question that part of the order, the most crucial part. I closed my eyes and whispered a quick prayer of thanks.

I went back into the building just in time to see Tucker writhing on the floor. I pulled the gun from under my shirt, aiming it at his chest.

“Lie still!”

He looked up at me. “You won’t survive this, Pearce! I’ll kill you myself when this war begins.”

“It has to actually happen for you to do that.”

“Oh, it will happen. The first night of the Fall Festival is going to be a real party!”

I walked over to him and squatted down beside him, pressing the gun against his forehead. “What’s supposed to happen?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

I shoved the gun harder against his forehead. “Tell me!”

His eyes narrowed, but they were filled with glee. “Let’s just say, the people of this town will never forget.”

“You are one sick son of a bitch!”

“Oh, you have no idea. If I told you what I have planned for that pretty girlfriend of yours, once we drag her out of that downtown hotel, anyway, you would blush. And your sister? That baby will see the light of day, just not the way it was intended.”

There was such darkness in his eyes, I believed everything he was saying. I knew he would do horrible things to Ruth and Whit if I gave him the chance.

I couldn’t give him the chance.

I pulled the trigger nice and easy, sliding it back with a grace my boot camp instructor would have been proud of. The recoil wasn’t as bad as I’d imagined it would be for a .35 caliber. It was actually a very nice gun.

The sound reverberated around the building, Tucker’s blood and other debris blowing outward and bouncing off the dirt floor, splattering back on Quentin’s legs and my hands. I’d never seen anything quite like it before.

I’d been stationed in Korea. Didn’t see many close range headshots there.

I slowly rose back up to my feet and stared at the mess for a long moment.

“Rabid dogs have to be put down.”

Quentin didn’t respond. He just stared at the same mess I was looking at.

It wasn’t until I heard the motor of Tucker’s car pulling up near the back door that I remembered we weren’t alone and weren’t getting out of this unless we worked fast.

I slid the gun under Quentin’s jacket, suspecting he’d have a hidden holster. He did. It was empty, making me suspect this gun was his. I grabbed Tucker under the arms and dragged him to the back of the storage building, hiding him behind a stack of boxes that were sitting there. The blood and mess on the floor was an issue, but the dirt was loosely packed and easily moved. By the time I was finished scraping and stomping with my boots, it looked as though it was spilled juice, or maybe debris from the beating Quentin had received.

I knelt behind Quentin and released his restraints. He nearly fell forward, his condition quickly deteriorating. I was just lifting him out of the chair when the mercenary popped his head through the door.

“Where’s Tucker?”

“He stepped out to talk to someone. He’ll meet us out back.”

The man eyed me for a long moment, clearly not buying my story. But then he just shrugged. He didn’t seem to care one way or the other about my actions.

“Call me when you’re ready to go.”

I dragged Quentin to the car, a Chevy Tahoe, and struggled to get him into the backseat. I was lucky most of the activity was concentrated around the front of the building. There was no one back here to see or bother us.

With Quentin in the back, I returned for Tucker’s body. He was heavy as hell—dead weight. I used less care with him, tossing his body roughly into the back of the SUV. I slammed the doors and climbed behind the wheel, noticing the blood on my hands only after I reached for the keys. There was blood on my shirt, too, but there wasn’t much I could do about that right now.

One of the perks of growing up in Ellaville was that I had friends who lived on these ranches on the outskirts of town. This particular ranch was once the location of a series of parties my senior year. Some of the football players whose families didn’t attend our church would steal bottles of booze from their parents’ liquor cabinets, and we’d head out into the pasture and play loud music until the early hours of the morning. Because of that, I knew there was a narrow trail that led to a small section of the highway at the back of the property.

I drove slowly, aware that every bump was causing Quentin pain. Every glance in the rearview mirror, and I expected to see one of the mercenaries chasing after me, or one of the many Guardians with their assault rifles attempting to take us out. But that never happened.

Alli’s shop was just four miles from the ranch. Not thrilled to drag her into this mess any deeper than we already had, I felt I had no choice but to go there. Quentin needed help, and I had to get back to the ranch before anyone noticed I was gone.

Jack clearly had read my mind, or guessed my destination from the footage being fed to him over the wireless camera. He was standing outside the building when I pulled up, gesturing for me to park at the back of the building.

Patrick was the one waiting there, yanking open the side door in order to gently help Quentin out of the car.

“Where’s Whit?” I demanded.

“She’s inside.”

Fear that had settled around my heart the moment Tucker had made his threats slowly began to subside. Jack came to the driver’s door and opened it, taking my arm gently as he guided me out.

“We have to get you cleaned up.”

“I don’t want Whit to see me this way.”

“She won’t. She’s in the office with Alli.”

He took me through the small storage space at the back of the store. It seemed like storage was becoming a theme in my life. But there was a small bathroom here. He handed me soap and a towel, pushing me inside. I quickly stripped the shirt off my back and washed away the blood, shocked to see how much blood had splattered back on my face. No wonder the mercenary hadn’t believed me.

It seemed like it took forever to get it all off. When I was done, Jack stepped into the room and handed me another shirt that looked just like the one I’d discarded.

“Go back. Park the SUV where it was behind the building and walk through the door. I don’t think that mercenary is going to give you any trouble, but if he does, we’ll be right behind you. Okay?”

I nodded.

“Are you sure you want to continue with this, Matthew?”

“We’re so close.”

“We can find another way.”

“Tell that to Ruth and Mother and Whit. Tell that to Quentin and his girl.”

Jack put his hands on my shoulders and studied my face for a long moment. “You did what any man in your situation would have done. Don’t forget that.”

I nodded, but the regret was already starting to worm its way into the back of my mind. Tucker was a monster, but was it really my right to be his judge and executioner?

“You saved Quentin’s life by getting him out of there.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“We’re getting him to a hospital right now. It’s bad, but I think you got to him quick enough.”

I nodded again. “Tell him I’m sorry.”

“This was not your fault.”

“It’s all my fault. If I’d stopped Tyler from getting in that car that night, none of this might have happened.”

“Listen to me, Matthew,” Jack said, shaking my shoulders lightly. “This was going to happen whether Harry died or not. Once someone came up with this idea and began building the Guardians, there was no going back. You have to understand that.”

“So many people are dead or hurt because of this.”

“It’s not your fault. The only thing you are guilty of is not being omniscient, for not knowing what they were planning all along. And that’s a fault we all share.”

“Take care of Ruth and Mother.”

Jack tilted his head. “We’ll do that together.”

“Promise me you’ll take care of them. And you’ll take care of Whit. Help her tell the story of what happened here. People need to know so it can’t happen again.”

Jack’s eyes darkened a little. “I promise.”

I nodded, moving my head the same way coach would make us do when we were psyching ourselves up for a game. That’s what it felt like. Like I was psyching myself up for the ultimate game.

Finally, I took a deep breath and walked out of Alli’s. It was time to get back to work.