Promise Me Once

  “I…I like your furniture,” she said.

  “Hmm.” I sighed. For the past hour we had been trying to make small talk but were failing big time. It was just a lame attempt to keep our minds off of what was happening, but it was impossible to forget.

  “Hungry?” Keely asked, offering me one of the granola bars she had found in her apartment. Candlelight flickered over us, giving me just enough light to see what she held in her hand but it didn’t look appetizing.

  “No,” I said, scrunching up my face at the cardboard-looking bar. But if I got desperate enough, I would eat it. My cabinets were bare. I wasn’t home enough to keep anything in them except for a bottle of tequila and a box of cereal. My meals came from restaurants or the little hipster coffee shops around campus.

  Even if I did have food, if it needed to be cooked or refrigerated we would be up shit creek. The oven and stove wouldn’t work without electricity and the fridge sat dark and empty, warm and smelly.

  “I’ll save it for Tate then,” Keely whispered, tucking the granola bar back in the messenger bag she had carried from her apartment.

  I looked down at my brother. He was curled up on the bed, his back against my side. His knees were drawn up to his chest and his hand was under his cheek. I wanted to reach out and touch his shaggy brown hair, push it out of his eyes like I did when he was younger. Instead, I resisted. I didn’t want to wake him. If he could escape the fear and uncertainty of what was happening for just a few hours, I would let him. God knows I wanted to.

  I looked around my dark room. We had been locked up in the apartment for nine hours. I thought it was time to find out what was going on.

  I climbed off the bed and headed out of my room, leaving Keely with Tate. The air was hotter in the rest of the house. I found Nathan near the corner of the big picture window in front. He was still, his attention locked outside.

  “Anything?” I asked, stopping behind him.

  Nathan didn’t bother turning around. “Nothing. The building is still burning. People are still hanging around, trying to get their cars started.”

  “I haven’t heard any sirens.”

  Nathan dropped the window shade and turned to look at me. His eyes were hard, void of emotion. “No one’s showed up. Not one police officer or fireman. It’s as if they don’t even exist.”

  “Maybe you missed them,” I said, pushing past him to look out the window. “They’ve got to be somewhere…”

  “Cat, no one’s coming.”

  I got angry. He sounded so calm but I wanted him fighting mad. If he wouldn’t be that way, then I would.

  “So what do we do? Just sit here in this fucking sauna of an apartment and wait? Twiddle our thumbs and gnaw on Keely’s granola bars?” I snapped, hot, tired, and irritable.

  “No. I go out.”

  “What? You can’t!” I exclaimed.

  “I can.” He turned and headed to the kitchen. “I’ve already been out there a couple of times to try and start the car. I’ll just go further this time,” he said over his shoulder like he was talking about going for a casual walk.

  “No. No,” I argued, shaking my head and following him. “You’re not going.”

  “You can’t stop me, Cat.”

  “I know I can’t but I damn will try,” I said, following him into the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

  Nathan looked up at me as he pulled a knife out of one of the drawers. “Weapon,” he said.

  God, I was beginning to hate his answers.

  “A weapon?” I asked as he pushed past me on his way out of the kitchen. “Is that really necessary?”

  Nathan glanced at me over his shoulder as he started toward my room.

  “That’s a stupid question. You were out there. You heard the gunshots. People become crazy when they don’t understand what’s happening or think there’s no authority to stop them. It was a shit storm earlier and I have a feeling we’re going to get dumped on again.”

  I followed close behind him as he took quick, long strides down the hallway. I had a surreal feeling that I was dreaming. Nathan was carrying a knife through my apartment to use as a weapon. Cash’s sister was in my bedroom. How was I supposed to forget him when she was around? And the world had gone mad. There was no logical answer for it all.

  “Do you have a backpack?” Nathan asked as we walked down the hallway.

  “Yeah, in my room,” I answered automatically, staring at the knife in his hand and wondering just how fucked up my life could get.

  Nathan headed toward my bedroom with me right behind him. Keely jumped up from the bed when she saw us, watching Nathan as he marched into the room and went straight to my backpack on the floor. He grabbed it and upended the bag. Papers and books from last semester spilled out, adding to the mess already in my room. When the backpack was empty, Nathan stuck the knife inside then went to Keely on the bed.

  “Stay here,” he said in a low voice, standing very close to her.

  She nodded. From my vintage point, I could see that there was something going on between them. I wondered just where Keely had spent the night after the party. Maybe Miss Innocent wasn’t so innocent after all.

  My eyebrows shot up when Nathan put his hand on the back of Keely’s head and pulled her toward him. He kissed her forehead with tenderness then released her, running his hand down her arm and letting her go. Whoa. He fell fast.

  I gave him a knowing look when he passed me. He returned it with a don’t-you-dare-say-anything glare. I didn’t, following him to the living room instead.

  He stopped at the front door and slung the backpack over his shoulder. “Stay here and don’t let anyone in, Cat. Got it?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, but if you’re not back in thirty minutes, I’m walking out this door and searching for you, Nathan.”

  He opened the door and turned to smirk at me. “I feel sorry for anyone that gets in your way, sis.”

  I tried to return his grin but couldn’t. “Be careful, Nathan.”

  “I always am. Put the chair back under the door handle when I leave.”

  I watched as he disappeared down the stairs and across the parking lot. I watched him until I couldn’t see him anymore.

  Then I started to pray.

  ~~~~

  Nathan came back twenty minutes later. He looked hot, frustrated, and worried. His normal tanned skin had lost all color.

  “What did you see? What’s happening?” I asked, bombarding him with questions as he shoved the chair back in its place under the door handle. Our fancy security system.

  “Is all the power out?” Tate – who was now awake – asked.

  “Who was shooting?” Keely joined in, rushing over to Nathan.

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he let the backpack drop to the floor by the door and walked over to the couch. His shoulders sagged heavily and there were dark circles under his eyes. He was tired. Exhausted just like the rest of us. Maybe even more.

  He sat down on the couch with a sigh then scrubbed his face with both hands. He looked so distraught that I felt fear bubble up inside me.

  We waited for him to stay something. Anything. I could hear shouts from outside and the sound of a door slamming. It made me nervous. I couldn’t stand Nathan’s silence any longer. I had to know what was going on.

  “Nathan, tell us,” I said hoarsely.

  He took a deep breath and lifted his head. I saw despair. Hopelessness. Bleakness that could only mean one thing.

  “It’s bad,” he said. “Really bad.”

  “What do you mean?” Keely asked, taking a hesitant step toward him. “What did you see?”

  He looked up at her with eyes full of despair.

  “I saw madness but what I heard was worse. The United States was attacked. They think it was some kind of EMP bomb. The whole city is a war zone and we’re in the middle of it.” He took a deep breath. “We’re in the middle of a war.”

  Chapter Twenty–Five

  Cash

  The
fight to find my family turned into something else. The fight to save myself.

  I thought that I would be just fine when I rode away from home. I thought the gash on my leg was nothing but a minor cut and a bandage would be enough.

  I was wrong.

  My body was weak. The heat was beating me down. The amount of blood I lost had drained me.

  I held onto the saddle horn tightly, trying to keep myself upright. I could feel blood trickling down my leg and dripping off my boot. It splattered on the dry, dusty ground under the horse’s hooves. The cut had reopened but this time it was worse. A chill ran over my body. I was burning up with fever. I don’t know if it was my body’s reaction to the blood loss and wound or if the cut had already become infected, but I was in trouble. If I could make it to town in one piece, it would be a miracle.

  The mare snorted and tossed her head then sidestepped, smelling the blood on me.

  “Easy girl,” I said in a calming voice. She was all I had. Her and my guns. I had tried to start the damn farm truck before leaving but it was dead. That left me with two choices – walk or ride. I chose ride. So I saddled my dad’s pride and joy. She was young and feisty. Fast. A mare with more attitude than brains. She could get me to town quicker than the other horses we owned and that’s all that mattered.

  The problem was I was weaker than I thought. It had taken all my energy to get the saddle on the horse and the bit in her mouth. When I tried to mound up, it caused me a helluva lot of pain, but adrenaline kept me going. I had to find my family.

  And I had to find Cat also.

  I didn’t know if it was the loss of blood, fever, or the extreme temperatures that was messing with my mind, but I had to make sure she was okay. It was the right thing to do. Hell, the right thing and Cat didn’t go together, but I would check on her for my own peace of mind anyway.

  I pulled my hat down lower, trying not to think about how stupid my decision was. I was a damn fool for doing it, but I would head to her house first. It was closer and on the way to town anyway, I reasoned. I would check on her and move on. That was it.

  I gave the reins some slack and poked around on my thigh. A hiss escaped me when pain flared in my leg. Warm liquid covered my hand. It was wet and sticky. My own frickin’ blood.

  I pulled my hand away and wiped it on my other leg. I needed help and I needed it quick. But the phones weren’t working and I couldn’t call for an ambulance. I had stopped at the first house I came to, hoping they had a generator or a landline phone, but they didn’t. They only had fear and confusion.

  ~~~~

  It was well past midnight when the horse’s hooves finally hit the blacktop that led to Cat’s home.

  “Whoa,” I said, pulling back on the reins. My leg throbbed as the horse sidestepped under me. I felt cold. But that’s not what held my attention.

  It was the house in front of me.

  It was huge and dark under the moonlight, all angles and sharp corners. Dark windows stared back at me. A barn set off to the side and I knew a pool and a fancy cabana were behind the house. It was Cat’s home. The place I had kissed her the first time. The spot I had left her days ago. The house I had wanted to return to minutes after driving away.

  No man in his right mind should have fallen so fast for a girl like her, but I did. Now here I was, on a damn horse in her driveway. Bleeding, weak, and wanting to see her just one more time.

  I was a damned fool but I was here.

  I nudged the horse up the driveway. There wasn’t one car around and that didn’t sit well with me. I didn’t like that it was so quiet either. She had two brothers. Where were they?

  When I got to the house, I dismounted and almost fell on my face when my feet hit the ground. I held onto the saddle, my only saving grace. It kept me upright as I waited for the black spots to disappear from my vision.

  When they did, I limped over to a small tree and tied the horse’s reins to it. I grabbed my bag and shotgun from its sheath on the saddle and unhooked its straps, letting it fall to the ground. I tried not to think about where I was standing – the same exact spot I had kissed Cat goodbye – but I couldn’t help it as I went to the front door.

  The porch light was off but I wasn’t surprised. I hadn’t seen a light or a hint of electricity since the wreck on the freeway.

  I stood in front of the door and knocked, favoring my left leg and putting all my weight on my right. Nothing happened. I didn’t hear the sound of someone walking on the other side or the telltale noise of a lock clicking open. I decided to try the doorbell. It was a long shot but shit, what did I have to lose? But again there was nothing.

  Damn.

  I laid my hand against the door and rested my forehead against it. I was so tired. The wood felt good beneath my head. Cool. Soothing. I squeezed my eyes shut and knocked again, barely staying on my feet. Again, there was nothing. Just the pain and fever in me.

  “Shit,” I murmured. I pushed away from the door, wondering what the hell I should do. Nobody was home, but I needed to rest and do something about my leg.

  My decision was made for me when I heard a blackbird caw at the corner of the house. I started that way. It was slow going. I had to drag my leg and shuffle my feet. I grimaced with each step and gnashed my teeth together at the pain. If the damn phones worked, I would just call 911 and gladly pass out. But I didn’t have that luxury.

  It took some time but I finally rounded the corner of the house and drew to a stop. A deck and infinity pool took up a good portion of the backyard. The edge looked out over the pastures in the distance, now sitting dark under the stars. Moonlight gleamed off the surface of the water, glittering against the soft ripples.

  I could almost picture Cat there, lounging beside the pool in a bikini. Her skin would be smooth, that flat stomach of hers itching for me to kiss. The tattoo would be dark against her hip, begging for my lips to touch it again. I wished I had known her earlier, before that tattoo. Maybe it would be my initials on her hip instead of his.

  Damn. I was losing my freaking mind, thinking of a girl I couldn’t have again. Only Cat would have that effect on me when I was bleeding and close to passing out.

  I pulled myself up onto the deck and limped over to the sliding glass doors. I tried one then the other, shaking their handles, but they were locked.

  “Goddamnit!” I swore. I was alone and bleeding badly. Sweat rolled down my body but I couldn’t get warm. I had never considered breaking into someone’s home before but I wasn’t sure what choice I had at that moment. I needed some kind of help, even if it was only shelter.

  Just then a window caught my eye, low to the deck. I staggered over to it, hoping for a miracle. I laid my shotgun near me and bent down. My hands were slippery, thanks to the blood, but I got a firm grasp on the bottom of the window frame. It gave just a little when I tried to open it. Thank you, Jesus. I didn’t know whether I wanted to smack Cat’s tight little ass next time I saw her for leaving a window unlatched or punch one of her brothers for not checking it and keeping her safer. But I was glad it was unlocked.

  That simple mistake might have saved my life.

  I opened the window, sweating bullets with the effort and sick to my stomach from the pain. My gun and bag went in first then me. It was a tight squeeze but I crawled inside, gritting my teeth against the pain in my leg and groaning when my thigh accidently grazed the windowsill.

  When I hit the carpet inside, I almost passed out. My hat fell off and rolled away, but I didn’t care. I was breathing hard and close to passing out. Somehow, I managed to shut and lock the window then pulled myself up anyway.

  A dark living room greeted me. It was about the size of my whole house. The moon gave me just enough light to see the big screen TV against the wall and the furniture. I winced and grabbed my gun then slung the duffle bag on my shoulder. I limped across the room at a lumbering gait. I had no idea where I was going but I needed to take a care of my leg again.

  My eyes adjusted to the darknes
s quickly but I still stopped and dug around in the duffle bag until I found the flashlight. With its beam leading the way, I headed down a long hallway, one hand carrying my gun the other using the wall as support.

  The hall led to a massive kitchen. I almost stumbled when I saw it, but the size of the kitchen and all the fancy appliances didn’t matter. What did was finding some first aid.

  I walked further into the room, using the counter to help me. The granite felt cold under my hand.

  And wet.

  I lifted my hand. It was sticky and warm.

  “Shit,” I whispered. I was bleeding like a stuck pig, leaving a trail everywhere. I needed to do something quick before I bled out all over Cat’s floor.

  I dropped my bag and set the gun down on the counter. Hurrying, I started opening cabinet doors and searching through them. I didn’t find one thing that would help me.

  My fever must have been getting worse because my body now shook violently. I tried not to concentrate on it and I turned on my good leg instead, starting back across the kitchen with only the flashlight. I didn’t stop until I was at the stairs that led to the second floor.

  As the blood soaked my thigh, I stood with my hand on the banister and shined the flashlight up the winding staircase. I knew on the second floor there would be a bathroom and first aid could usually be found in one. But I wasn’t sure I could climb the stairs.

  I breathed through the pain and gripped the railing harder. I didn’t have a choice. I thought of my sister in Austin and my parents somewhere in town. I thought of Cat. I didn’t love her but hell, I didn’t want to leave this earth without seeing her one more time. That’s what made me try.

  I put my bad leg on the first step and pulled myself up using the banister. By the time I reached the top, I was sweating bullets. I kept one hand pressed against my thigh with the flashlight and the other against the wall, using it for support.

  The first room I came to was a bathroom. I rummaged under the sink, looking for the first aid. I found a small kit, stuffed toward the back behind some hand towels. I grabbed one of the towels and pressed it against my leg. It hurt like a son-of-a-bitch but I needed to stop the bleeding or I would pass out soon.