Blood Runs Cold (Stone Cold Fear Book 2) Read online

  “As incredible as that was,” Pete said, “I’d have skipped it if it meant I could get in a car and drive away from here.”

  “It was beautiful,” Marie answered. “But you’re right. There’s something strange about the town. Something that doesn’t sit quite right. The people are friendly but…”

  “But they also all feel like robots?” Pete finished for her.

  She bit her lip, cast him a dark glance, and nodded.

  The glow of an oil lamp through the one small front window welcomed them back to Thomas’s house. Pete opened the door and gestured Marie inside. After he’d taken off his boots and coat, he went to the stove and got the fire going—just like Thomas had told him to.

  He didn’t think too much about how that made him feel. He was a soldier. He was used to taking orders. That was all there was to it.

  Marie held her hands to the stove and then rubbed them together. “I want to explore,” she said.

  Pete replaced the lid on the stovetop. “You mean sneak around and invade our host’s privacy.” He said it jokingly, but he meant every word. He didn’t want to fight about it, but he would. They couldn’t afford trouble until he had an escape route worked out. “We don’t know when Thomas will get back. Just come sit by the stove.” He dropped into a chair, still marveling at the pure miracle of having heat and being able to feel his toes.

  Marie chose the sofa, tucking her legs under her. “I’m tired after standing on my feet all day. Which seems silly, given how much damned walking we did over the last few days. Hard to believe it’s only been a few days since the EMP.”

  “I know,” Pete agreed. “I feel like we’ve been running away from Mueller for weeks.”

  “I guess when things are super intense, it changes our perception of them.” She held her hands out toward the stove. “All we need is popcorn and a movie, and this would be ideal.”

  They spent a few minutes talking about their favorite movies, and Pete wondered when they’d get to experience something like that again. He wondered how the government was doing on getting society in line—and whether they were already making progress when it came to figuring out how to fix everything. Theoretically, the solar flare would have blown out every existing electrical circuit, yes, but surely they could be repaired.

  Surely with enough work, the government could just… put everything back together.

  The thought warmed him a bit, and he started to make actual, real plans for getting to Anchorage. If the world was going to come back online, he didn’t want to be stuck in this bizarre version of a cult-controlled small town.

  Marie yawned. “Where is Thomas? I can’t stay awake much longer.”

  Pete’s answering yawn was so huge, his jaw cracked and his eyes watered. Did they really have to stay up to meet their host? He wasn’t so sure.

  “I’m going to bed,” Marie said. “Otherwise I’ll fall asleep here, and you’ll have to carry me.”

  “No,” Pete replied. “You’ll have to carry me.”

  Marie flexed her bicep and smiled. “I could do it.”

  Pete added one more piece of wood to the stove, and then he and Marie made their way to the back of the building, climbed the ladder-like staircase, and returned to their room.

  As he undressed, Pete worried that he’d have trouble sleeping again, but a day’s physical labor took care of that, and he was out before he could wonder if they should have waited for Thomas, even if it had meant falling asleep on the sitting room furniture.

  Chapter 13

  Well before Pete felt ready to get out of bed, someone hammered on their door.

  Eyes wild, Marie sat bolt upright. “What? Who?”

  Pete felt the same sense of confusion, but the pounding of his heart got his blood flowing—and his thoughts along with it. The force and cadence of the knock could only be interpreted as hostile. A polite knock would have been softer, and wouldn’t have startled them out of sleep.

  This wasn’t Hilda, miraculously bringing them breakfast in bed.

  “Get dressed,” Pete said. “I’m guessing we’re wanted downstairs.”

  Marie looked as jittery as Pete felt. Her hands were shaking and when he checked his, he found that they were as well. He’d never been good at being woken up so abruptly, and when he combined that with the suspicions he already had about this town, it wasn’t a pretty picture.

  When they had both finished dressing, Pete put his hand on the doorknob, rolled his shoulders a couple of times, and said, “Here goes nothing.”

  “Everything has to be fine,” Marie whispered. “It’s not like they could run an Internet search on us. And we worked so hard yesterday. I didn’t get pushy about asking questions. Hell, I couldn’t. I was so busy slicing and dicing and kneading and doing dishes, I didn’t have time.”

  She was right about the Internet search. No matter what electronic devices the citizens of Clearview had protected inside their Faraday cage, the wider world would have been far less prepared.

  Pete’s mind flashed to a woman he’d seen on the news a few years ago. She was being interviewed because she was one of those doomsday-prepper types. A new variety of flu had come out of China and the media was yelling about a global pandemic. She had stocked up on supplies and was urging her fellow Americans to do the same.

  “Everyone thinks people like me are nutjobs,” she’d said. “Until they don’t.”

  It was painful to contemplate, but in some ways, David Clyde had been right. He’d preached about the end of civilization, and when it hadn’t come quickly enough, he’d set out to hurry it along. But then Mother Nature had done the work for him.

  On one hand, Pete wanted to hurry down the stairs so he could find out what the problem was, but on the other, he wanted to dilly-dally, postponing whatever new problem was coming his way.

  He took Marie’s hand and they walked into the dining room, where Thomas sat waiting for them, drumming his fingers on the faux-wood surface. The remnants of breakfast—empty plate, glass, and coffee cup—were pushed to the side.

  Pete’s stomach growled, and he wished it would shut up. The last thing he needed was his body betraying a weakness, even if was only an empty stomach, to the man who was in charge of Clearview. He didn’t know Thomas well, but assumed he’d appreciate confidence more than cowering.

  Thomas didn’t invite them to sit, so he and Marie were left standing like recalcitrant children about to be read the riot act. It was galling, and Pete forced himself to remain calm.

  Marie let go of Pete’s hand, crossed her arms in front of her, and said, “Good morning.”

  The statement of greeting turned into a question as she took note of Thomas’s body language: the drumming fingers, the pinched lips, the rigid shoulders.

  Pete thought longingly of his rifle and kicked himself for not having figured out an escape plan last night before he went to bed. Because he was definitely starting to think they were going to need it.

  His guts were absolutely screaming at him that this was wrong, wrong, wrong.

  “I’m disappointed,” Thomas said.

  “Why is that?” Pete asked, hoping Marie would let him do the talking.

  “We let you into our town,” Thomas said. “Offered you hospitality. And how did you repay us?”

  “Um, we worked our butts off yesterday,” Marie said. “But if it wasn’t enough, we’ll work harder if you tell us what you want us to do.”

  “You lied to us,” Thomas said, thankfully ignoring Marie’s underlying snarky tone. “You should have told us the truth about who you are. We know you’re military.”

  “What makes you think that?” Pete asked, hoping he sounded legitimately perplexed.

  We should have come clean yesterday, he thought. They should have told Thomas who they really were—if only to avoid this exact situation.

  “We read it in Marie’s notebooks.”

  Marie’s notebooks. Pete wanted to smack himself on the forehead and then burst into the rant
to end all rants. Those damn packs. The ones he knew he should have moved to the room—and didn’t.

  Of course they’d been through them. Of course they’d found her notebooks. He wanted to scream.

  Instead, he forced himself to relax, at least in appearance. Marie looked completely undone by Thomas’s revelation. Her face paled, but two bright spots of color shone on her cheekbones.

  Horribly, Pete thought that she should be undone. Even as she’d packed food and water for their escape from the ranger station, she had packed the goddamned notebooks, probably rehearsing her Pulitzer Prize acceptance speech in her head.

  “We didn’t say anything because we didn’t know if we could trust you,” Pete said.

  “In Clearview, we aren’t fans of government, so you can understand how discovering that you’re a member of the military establishment wouldn’t sit right.”

  “I’m not military military,” Pete said. “I was—am—part of the National Guard, if it even exists anymore.”

  Thomas stilled his drumming fingers. “You’re splitting hairs, Mr. Marshall. And you didn’t bother to inform me that there are dangerous convicts on the loose, either.”

  “Again,” Pete said, “we weren’t sure we could trust you. And for what it’s worth, I hated lying. I spent most of yesterday kicking myself for starting our relationship that way.”

  “We didn’t want you to think Pete was an escaped convict,” Marie blurted. “Or that I was his accomplice.”

  “A legitimate concern, I suppose,” Thomas said.

  There was a knock at the front door, and Merle and Jack came inside, looking just as dangerous as Thomas. Pete’s heart sank a bit further at that. Now they were well and truly outnumbered—and that felt like even bigger trouble.

  “Sorry we’re late,” Merle said.

  “I was just telling Pete and Marie how disappointed I am to find out that they lied to us.” Thomas was clearly enjoying the role of displeased patriarch. Far too much for Pete’s taste.

  It was becoming harder and harder to stand there and be respectful. They were the ones who had been snooping through personal property.

  “Not very friendly,” Jack said as he took off his boots.

  “Have you told him yet how much we don’t like the government getting into our business?” Merle asked, moving to stand behind Thomas.

  “We’re not with the government,” Marie said. “If you snooped through my journals then you know who we are.”

  “Another ruse. All part of the plan to deceive us,” Thomas said.

  Pete almost laughed. They thought she’d written down the wrong information in those damn journals just to deceive people they hadn’t even known they were going to meet? They didn’t believe the story of who Marie was, but they did believe that Pete was military?

  “Exactly!” Jack piped in as he moved to stand behind Thomas as well. “You’re here to scope out our town for Uncle Sam. The government is plotting to declare martial law and install a dictator-type situation. They’re always looking for more power. Always looking for ways to put the people more firmly under Uncle Sam’s thumb. That’s not the way we do things in America.”

  Plot? Pete thought. America? Thomas was the one behaving like a dictator at the moment. And how could they think he and Marie were part of a plot? The way the town was equipped, they must have heard the same broadcast Bahar told Pete about at Mueller. The “God help us all” broadcast.

  Besides which, the timing was off. The government would have needed to have foreknowledge of the solar flare if they were going to send people this quickly. And unless precognition had become possible while Pete had been cleaning up Anchorage…

  Unless, of course, Thomas and his cronies didn’t believe the broadcast. Thomas had his ideas, and his way of doing things, but he didn’t seem deluded enough to believe anyone would go to such lengths to take over a town of seventy-five people in the middle of nowhere, Alaska.

  “And if it’s not that,” Merle added, a sanctimonious expression plastered on his face, “the damned government will show up and tell us they’re going to relocate us to a refugee camp. ‘For our own good.’” He put the last sentence in air quotes. “We’ve seen how well FEMA handles this sort of disaster, and that’s not for us, thank you very much. We’re set up just fine right where we are.”

  “Better than most,” Thomas said. “Because of my planning.”

  Merle and Jack nodded and made sounds of agreement, then Merle said, “More likely, the Feds would kick us out and take over our sweet setup. Too lazy to do anything on their own. It’s easier to steal another man’s hard work.”

  Pete could feel the tension in Marie’s body as though it was his own. Her arm was rigid against his, and he knew exactly how she felt. He was having trouble breathing himself. Having trouble seeing past the fury running through his veins.

  He hadn’t liked this place right from the start. But he’d never imagined they were this crazy.

  “No disrespect, sir,” Pete started, knowing that Thomas derived a great deal of pleasure from being treated with deference. “But you’re a long way off base.” He went on to explain why he believed the solar flare and resulting electromagnetic pulse was real and widespread, and that he doubted there was enough functioning government left to take care of themselves, let alone go after Clearview. “They might get themselves back together, sure, but they’re not there yet. I’d be more worried about the escaped convicts, if I was you.”

  Marie told the three men what had happened at the ranger station, and how well armed the Mueller convicts were. “They’re a much bigger threat to you than me and Pete. Or the government, if there’s even one left.”

  “We’re not worried about a few ragtag convicts here,” Thomas said.

  “We sure aren’t,” Merle and Jack said, nearly in unison.

  Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, Pete thought. But armed with assault rifles.

  “I say we lock Pete up,” Merle said. “We can keep an eye on Marie. She’s got training as a nurse, which could come in handy.”

  Thomas held up his left hand. “Jack, what do you have to say?”

  “Extra manpower wouldn’t hurt. He’s able-bodied and knows how to shoot. Our patrols are spread thin, especially if there are convicts on the loose.”

  Thomas’s face puckered like he’d sucked a lemon. In just a few words, Jack had given away a lot of information—and Pete was storing away every bit of it. Now that they’d shown their hand, he wasn’t going to waste any time figuring out how to get the hell out of there.

  “I’m an excellent shot, as is Marie,” he said. “We’re both capable people, and we’re not looking to cause any trouble.”

  Thomas smoothed his hair.

  “I was cleaning up after the earthquake in Anchorage, sir,” Pete added. “Our unit never did any kind of peacekeeping. We only worked disaster relief until our last assignment. If anything, that means I have more useful training and knowledge than I would if I was actually a soldier.”

  “And I’m a journalist,” Marie said. “If you’re worried about government shenanigans, it would be helpful for you to have someone to tell your story. Or ask questions of whoever we come across.”

  Thomas seemed to be considering their arguments. The whole situation was so bizarre, Pete was tempted to pinch himself to be sure he was awake. Him trying to justify his existence. Marie talking as though this small town would want their story told. And yet, something told him that it was necessary. He didn’t think it was a reach to say that both their lives were on the line.

  His more than hers. Because he’d seen how they were looking at her. He’d seen how interested Thomas had become when she’d said she knew how to cook. What if they kicked him out, but held Marie against her will?

  Before Thomas could relay his decision about their fates, a man burst through the door. His face was red with exertion and, based on the way he was gasping to catch his breath, he’d run a fair distance to get here.

&nbs
p; Chapter 14

  “Thomas, I spotted a small military convoy headed our way,” the guy rasped, then bent over and rested his hands on his knees, still trying to catch his breath.

  Merle stared at Pete and Marie. “It’s just like Jack said. These two are advance scouts sent to collect information and pass it along.”

  “Advance scouts?” Marie shouted. “You guys are out of your minds.”

  Pete grabbed her hand and squeezed it hard enough to hurt. She glared at him, but stopped talking. While he agreed with her assessment, telling a nutjob they were crazy was never a good idea.

  “There’s no way the guys you saw are legitimate military,” Pete said, trying to sound calm and reasonable and honest. “Think about it. The whole world has gone to hell in the proverbial handbasket. Why would the military give two shits about Clearview, population seventy-five, or one lone National Guardsman? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “And I’m sure you were coached to say just that,” Thomas said, and stood.

  “Those military guys never leave a man behind,” Jack said. “We should keep him as a hostage, see if we need to bargain with them.”

  “That idea almost makes up for your motormouth earlier,” Thomas said to Jack. “Except you shouldn’t have any doubt as to whether or not we’re going to need to bargain. We have the upper hand, and we’ve trained for this eventuality.”

  “Thomas, think about it,” Pete said. “How do they happen to have working vehicles?”

  Thomas looked at the messenger. “Well? Answer the man’s question.”

  The guy looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

  Before Thomas could dismiss the man for incompetence, Pete jumped in. “Were they older-looking vehicles? Antiques?”

  “Yeah, they looked like something you’d see in an old movie,” the guy said.

  Judging by Thomas’s face, something had just occurred to him. He directed his next statement to Merle. “Get the patrols sorted. Everybody armed, including the twins.”