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Riley left her lights off, praying that the road remained clear, and followed the group past Cambria and San Simeon. Beyond the turnoff for Hearst Castle, the road paralleled the ocean for several miles before rising up the side of a mountain until it was a couple hundred feet above the beach. She was only able to catch glimpses of the bikes now and then as the road twisted and turned its way up the slope.

A few minutes later, if not for the glow of lights ahead, she would have been discovered. She hadn’t seen a sight like it since the first few days the world had begun to die, so it was more than enough motivation for her to pull to the side of the road and kill her engine.

Around the curve ahead, she could hear the other bikes idling, and realized that they, too, had stopped. Within seconds, each engine was shut down.

Whatever was being illuminated, that’s where they were, she thought. She hid her bike among the brush next to the shoulder and moved cautiously down the road toward the glow, ready to dive for cover if necessary. As the road curved gently to the right, she caught sight of several buildings on the ocean side of the highway—a gas station, some stores, and a motel, all with lights blazing. The compound must have had its own generators.

As she drew nearer, she was able to read the sign out front.

RAGGED POINT

INN & RESORT

Worried she’d be exposed if she stayed on the road, she moved into the brush on the hill opposite the complex and found a hidden spot she could watch from.

Just to the south of the gas station, the motorcycles and truck were parked in a lot next to three other motorcycles and a brand new RV.

The six men stood on the sidewalk talking. As Riley watched, two women came out of the building behind them and joined the conversation. After a few minutes, four of the men walked over to the bed of the truck, reached in, and pulled out Noreen and Craig.

Neither of Riley’s friends was moving, but the fact that they were tied up made her hopeful they were still alive. The men carried Noreen and Craig to the motel area on the left and into one of the rooms.

That had been over eight hours ago. Since then, Riley had been very busy. In addition to keeping an eye on things, she had taken excursions to the north and south ends of the complex to give her a better idea of the setup.

Somewhere around midnight, most of the lights had gone out, and all but two of the men—the bald guy and the one with the gun tattooed on his arm—had made their way to their motel rooms. The two still awake stayed in the front room of what looked like a restaurant, directly across from her position. She initially assumed they were some kind of night watch, but after seeing them work their way through several beers, she realized if their job was to guard the place, they weren’t taking their assignment too seriously.

The drinking had gone on until almost 2:30 a.m., when one of the men staggered out of the room. Riley kept a watch on the outside, thinking he’d exit and head to the motel, but he never appeared. The other man continued to drink a little longer before his head drooped and he slumped over the table. He had not moved an inch since then, and the other man had not returned.

Now or never
.

__________

N
OREEN NEVER DRIFTED
off for more than a few minutes before an image of the bald man jerked her back awake. He’d busted through the door of their Morro Bay motel room first, and then punched her in the stomach and held her down while one of his friends tied her up.

She knew she’d been lucky, though. Craig had tried to fight back and suffered the consequences. The bruise under his eye was as big as her palm, and the blow that had caused it had caught his nose, leaving a layer of dried blood on his upper lip. Where else he was hurt, she didn’t know, only that she’d heard him get hit several more times.

What really troubled her, though, was that he had yet to regain consciousness. She’d tried multiple times to wake him, but since she was tied up several feet away, all she could do was call to him. Not once had he stirred.

She’d asked the people who’d taken them why they were doing this, and pleaded with them to let her and Craig go, but the only replies she’d received were descriptions of what they would do to her if she didn’t shut up.

She twisted her hands, testing the rope for the hundredth time, but knowing it would do no good. There was no chance she’d be able to wiggle out.

She and Craig were in trouble.

Deep, deep trouble.

__________

R
ILEY SPED ACROSS
the highway in a crouch and stopped against the only tree between the road and the parking lot.

When she was sure no one was coming to investigate, she moved across the asphalt to the motorcycles.

A week ago, she wouldn’t have known what to do, but in the days since, she’d had a crash course in motorcycle maintenance from Craig in case hers ever broke down.

“If it’s not starting, check the sparkplug wires,” he’d said, showing her what he meant. “If they’re not connected properly, your engine won’t fire.”

Moving from bike to bike, Riley unplugged both ends of the wires and took them with her. The truck was another matter. She suspected there was a similar way to disable it, but it would involve opening the hood and that would probably make too much noise.

She had a different solution—she used the knife from her backpack to slit the tires. She then did the same with those on the motor home. No other cars were in this lot, but a few were parked by the gas station, their windows dusty from not having moved in weeks. She should probably slash their tires, too, but she was anxious to get her friends out and worried that she was already too late.

She peeked at the restaurant. The bald man hadn’t budged and there was still no sign of his friend. Hopefully Tattoo Guy was passed out in the back.

She hurried along a path leading from the parking lot around the back of the motel’s office and over to the guest rooms. The rooms were spread among five small buildings. A couple dozen feet behind them was the ledge of a rocky cliff overlooking the ocean far below.

The room Noreen and Craig had been carried into was in the building closest to the highway. Unlike the other rooms, theirs had no windows on the front so Riley had been unable to see inside. The kidnappers were almost as spread out as the rooms were. Only one other room in the building her friends were in was being used. Unfortunately, it was the one right next door.

She crept along the path to the last building and tried her friends’ door.

Locked.

She headed behind the structure, hoping to get in that way. But what she discovered surprised her. While the other rooms all had doors that opened to the small grass area separating the building from the cliff, Noreen and Craig’s room did not. And like the front, the back side didn’t have any windows.

Must be a storage room
.

How was she going to get in there? Even if she were strong enough, she couldn’t bust down the door without being heard, and picking a lock was something she’d only seen on TV.

The quietest way would be with a key. There had to be one somewhere, right? Most likely back at the office. She started to turn, then remembered the sparkplug wires. She pulled them out of her bag and, with a giant heave, threw them off the cliff.

The office building had several entrances. The ones in the back were all locked and appeared to be private. Fortunately, the glass door to the reception area in front turned out to be open. She slipped behind the counter and searched drawers, but the only keys she could find were for guest rooms.

She opened the door at the back of reception. As she’d hoped, it led to a handful of administrative offices. The only keys she discovered in the first office belonged to the filing cabinet in the corner. The second office, however, contained a ring with at least thirty keys hanging from it, one of which had the word
MASTER
engraved on its surface.

She took the whole set to be safe, stuck them in her jacket pocket, and headed out.

“Who the fuck’re you?”

The man with the gun tattoo was standing in the middle of the office lobby as she exited the back area. He smelled of alcohol and weaved back and forth as he stared at her through squinting eyes.

“Nobody,” she said.

He moved toward the end of the counter and blocked her way out. “Izzat right?”

She reached behind her for the back door.

“Don’t,” he ordered.

He swung wide around the corner, his arm grazing the back wall.

No way she could get the door open and run out the back before he’d get to her, so she slapped her hands on the counter and started to jump to the other side.

Despite his impaired condition, the man got a few fingers around her ankle before she could get all the way over. She fell forward, catching herself right before she slammed into the front of the counter.

Twisting at the waist, she yanked her leg. “Let go of me.”

“Sorry, babe, you ain’t going anywhere,” he said, grinning as he tightened his grip.

She swiveled the other way and felt unexpected pressure against her hip.

The knife
.

She thrust her foot at him, ramming the sole of her boot hard into his chest. Staggering backward, he lost his grip, and she was able to tumble the rest of the way over the counter. She pushed to her feet, pulled out the knife, and removed the sheath.

“Hey, stop,” he said as he lumbered around the end of the counter.

Wanting only to distract him so she could get the door open, she cocked her arm and threw the knife at him. As she grabbed the door handle, she heard a grunt, but she didn’t allow herself to look back until she was outside.

She had expected to see him nearing the door, but instead he was lying on the lobby floor, her knife sticking out of his abdomen. Blood poured from the wound as he feebly tried to grab at the knife, but his movements were uncoordinated and within seconds his hands dropped to his side.

As much as she knew she should keep going, she stepped back inside. Her attacker’s breaths were coming in short, pronounced bursts, and his eyes were full of confusion.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Dear God, what had she done? She’d never even hurt anyone before. Not on purpose, anyway.

His gaze slowly turned to her, his incomprehension growing. His lips parted to say something, but then, like someone threw a switch, his chest stopped moving and his muscles relaxed.

Riley stepped backward toward the door before she forced herself to stop.

As horrifying as it was, she returned to the man and pulled her knife from his gut. Using a roll of paper towels she found behind the counter, she wiped off the blood and slipped the weapon into her bag. She patted him down and rolled him over. That’s when she found the pistol tucked under the waist of his pants. She wiped off the blood covering the grip and shoved it into her bag.

The world was a different place now, and no one could afford to leave a weapon behind.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, and then hurried outside.

__________

N
OREEN TENSED WHEN
she heard a key slip into the door lock. Other than bringing them some water not long after they’d been put in the room, the captors had left her and Craig alone.

Noreen had known that wouldn’t last.

“Craig?” she whispered.

He was still out.

The lock clicked and the door creaked open. She watched as a surprisingly small silhouette stepped across the threshold. As soon as the person was inside, the door closed again.

Noreen heard some fumbling, and then a light sliced through the darkness. She narrowed her eyelids to slits. Though the beam was small, to her unadjusted eyes it was as bright as the sun, blinding her to everything.

“Noreen? Thank God.”

__________

R
ILEY KNELT DOWN
next to her friend and asked, “Are you hurt?”

“Riley?” Noreen said, squinting.

“It’s me. How about we get you guys out of here, huh?”

Noreen tensed. “What are you doing? They’re going to catch you, too.”

Riley quickly put a finger over Noreen’s lips. “They won’t if you’d stop yelling. Everyone’s asleep.”

Using her knife, Riley cut Noreen free. Once her friend was sitting, she moved over to Craig and removed his restraints.

“Craig?” she said, gently shaking him. “Craig, wake up. We’ve got to go.”

“He’s been like that since they took us,” Noreen said.

Riley tapped his cheeks. “Come on, Craig. You need to wake up.”

A low groan.

Riley knew they didn’t have the luxury to wait around until he was conscious again, so she said to Noreen, “You’ll have to help me.”

After draping Craig’s arms over their shoulders, they lifted him to his feet and maneuvered him to the door.

“Hold him for a moment,” Riley said, transferring all of Craig’s weight to Noreen.

She cracked the door open enough to stick her head through. All was still quiet at the Ragged Point Inn and Resort.

She pulled back inside and whispered, “We go out and to the right over to the highway. Got it?”

Noreen nodded.

“Okay, we’re going to carry him like this.”

Riley demonstrated, putting one arm behind Craig’s back and the other under his thighs so he’d basically be in a sitting position. Then she eased the door all the way open. Its hinges creaked a little but that didn’t seem to bring anyone out.

On a count of three, she and Noreen picked up Craig and headed out.

When they reached the highway, Riley guided them south.

Noreen shot her a questioning look. “We’re not walking out of here, are we?” she whispered.

“Shhh,” Riley said.

They continued around the bend until Riley’s motorcycle came into view.

“We can’t all fit on that,” Noreen said.

“Sure we can.”

It would be tight, but doable. The problem wasn’t whether they’d all fit or not. It was how they would keep Craig from falling off. When Riley had come up with her plan, she hadn’t taken into consideration that one of them might be unconscious.