Save Me (21 page)

As soon as Cara said the words, “I found her,” everything stopped, including myself. Breathing didn’t exist. The lights and sounds of New York City came to a halt and it was if they were no longer functioning. The streets were deserted; the people of Times Square were gone. And so was Cara because my phone died as soon as she said those three words.

I frantically looked around for help, but there wasn’t anyone I could ask. Every store I stopped at that morning didn’t have what I needed and pay phones are non-existent these days. Not that I would’ve been able to call her since her number was stored in my phone and I didn’t have it memorized like she asked me to do. The smart thing would’ve been for me to write her number down just in case. But I didn’t.

All I knew was that Penny had been found, and by the tone of Cara’s voice, she sounded happy. Which to me means Penny is alive and well. My next move was to get the train. I had to get to Boston to meet my friends.

I don’t know how long I stood on the street corner—with my mouth hanging open and a dead cell phone in my hand—until my brain could tell my legs to move, and once they did it was like I couldn’t stop.

The first thing I did was ask directions to the nearest Army Navy store. I still needed some clothes I’d be comfortable in and that was the only place to provide them. When I walked in, I felt at home. A weird sense of calm washed over me. It could’ve been because this wasn’t an ordinary AN store, this was a store run by an arms dealer. The militia runs it. I was with my kind, or at least people who understood my desire to outfit myself. The first thing I found was an Ontario MKIII Navy knife, followed by my boots and the rest of my purchases were gravy: box cutter, Leatherman, zip ties, and a couple of rounds for my gun. I was going to be prepared in the event Frannie is on my train.

Once I arrived at the train station I was able to calm down. I stood in the corner, waiting for my train to flash on the screen and bolted to the door. The last thing I wanted to do was share a seat with someone—I wanted people to be scared to sit with me. It should be easy. I’m a master at looking pissed off. Hell, I’ve only been doing it continuously for the past six months.

I rest my head against the window with my duffle bag held tight in my arms. I lucked out and was able to nab a four-seater that no one else wanted to sit in with me. I don’t blame them because I’m not much of a travel companion.

The scenery flies by and it’s only when we arrive in a town and slow down or come to a stop that you’re actually able to take some of it in. When the train is traveling at seventy plus miles per hour, everything is a blur, much like my life right now.

I know each stop brings me closer to Penny, but the train is taking forever. I caught the first train to Boston without thinking about the stops it would have to make. The express train is the one I wanted, but instead I’m on the slow one.

The train comes to a full stop and people move down the aisle to get off. I watch their reflections in the window, not needing to see their face. Most often, they’ll smile or tell me thank you. Thing is, they have no idea what exactly they’re thanking me for. If they had a clue they wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing what kind of monsters are out there lurking, and I’m talking about the Lawson types.

Unfortunately my luck has run out when an elderly woman sits down across from me. Considering her age I don’t think I have to fear her unless she’s hiding an AR-15 in her bag. If she is, we’re all dead so it wouldn’t matter.

“You look lost,” she says in a sweet grandma voice. The only thing missing are milk and cookies to soothe my scraped knees.

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

“Just an observation.” She waves her hand, as if to end the conversation that probably didn’t start off the way she wanted.

“My Richard was in the service.” She digs through her bag, pulling out two long needles and a ball of yawn. I’ve always been fascinated by the knitting skill, but never thought it’d be something to learn. My grandma … well, the woman that raised me, she used to knit all the time and asked me if I wanted to learn. The answer was always no. Thinking back, I should’ve taken her up on her offer because that would’ve been something I could pass on to Claire.

“What branch?” As much as I’d love to sit in silence, if her husband served, she deserves my attention. She’s put in her time as his wife, the least I can do is listen to her story for the rest of my ride.

“Navy. We met in New York City on September second, nineteen forty-five.”

“Were you a nurse?” I give her a true smile with a slight hint of laughter. She already amuses me.

“You know that day?” she questions.

“Of course I do, ma’am. I know my history, especially when it has to do with the Navy.”

“Are you a sailor?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I was at one time and that’s all she needs to know.

A big smile forms on her face as she clasps her hands. “My Richard loved the Navy. He was a proud member for thirty-five years.”

“Well I hope to be in it as long as he was. Serving my country is what I was born to do.”

“What do you do in the Navy? Richard was a cook and on R and R when we met that day.”

I figure there’s no harm in telling her what I do. “I’m a SEAL, ma’am. Have you heard of us?”

“Oh yes, Richard was very impressed with the training you young men have to go through. He wished the SEALs were around when he was younger. He always said he would’ve been one.”

“I have to say, I enjoy it. The training, not so much, but being in the Navy is rewarding.”

“I never saw myself as a Navy wife, though. How about you, are you married?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I reply without hesitation. “I’m on my way home right now.”

“Well, she’s a lucky woman.”

“No, ma’am, I’m the lucky one.”

Our conversation continues as she tells me about her children and grandchildren. I leave out that I have a daughter because she would expect me to tell her stories and I don’t want to keep lying. Too many lies and one forgets what the truths were to start with. I’d rather her remember me as the sailor who sat across from her and listened to her stories about Richard.

When the train pulls into my stop, I have a pang of regret that our time has come to an end.

“Well, ma’am, this is my stop.”

She looks out the window and sighs. “It was nice meeting you. What’s your name?”

“McCoy. Tucker McCoy.”

My name must mean something to her because her face falls and she starts looking at me harder. The smart thing is to get up and make haste, but I sit in front of her.

“You were one of those boys that the Navy declared dead, but you weren’t.”

Why, of all the times I meet someone, does it have to be the one person who actually caught the news the day they aired something? The Navy has done a miraculous job keeping a lid on our whereabouts.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Shame on them.”

I couldn’t agree more and leave her with her last words hanging over us. I pray for her safety when she gets off the train and that she doesn’t tell anyone or she’s liable to meet Richard sooner than she intends.

As soon as I step off the train and enter the terminal, Nate is waiting for me.

“Where are Archer and Ryley?” I ask after we shake hands.

“Evan is in the car. There’s no parking in this damn city. Ryley is already with Cara.”

“How’d you get here so fast?”

“Private jet.”

“Lucky bastard,” I mutter under my breath.

I think it’s funny that Nate, who I know from being in the service, trainings, and hanging out with his brother, was sent in to get me when it should’ve been Evan.

“We have about a two and half hour drive to where Cara is so we need to get going.”

One thing you can always count on when you’re with a SEAL is fast moving feet. Archer’s strides are long and quick as he dodges the people coming toward us. Outside, Evan is standing next to a car with its hood up.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I exclaim, throwing my hands up in the air. I want to get to my wife, and knowing that she’s only a couple of hours away and the car is broken down frustrates the hell out of me.
Why? Why me?

“Ready?” Nate hollers to Evan who nods and slams the hood down.

“What the—”

“He was parked illegally. He had to do something or he would’ve gotten a ticket.”

“Wow, I’m impressed.” I climb into the back while Nate gets in the front. I barely have time to buckle my seatbelt before Archer has us weaving in an out of traffic. Again, I find myself staring out the window at the passing cities as they turn into the sprawling land.

“I can’t imagine breaking down out here,” Evan says while we’re in the middle of nowhere.

“Where are we heading?” I’m so excited to see Penny that I hadn’t even asked where we’re going.

“Vermont. The town’s called Pittsfield. Cara says there’s nothing there except a gas station, general store, a few restaurants, and some bed and breakfast places.”

“And that’s where Penny and Claire are?”

“Yes.” Nate looks out the window instead of at me, clearly hiding something.

“What else?”

He shakes his head. “When we get to the hotel, Cara is going to get Penny and bring her to meet Ryley. We’re going to wait in the next room. Well, you and I are. Evan will go in so she knows you guys are alive.”

“Cara said I was supposed to meet Rask at the train station, not you. What changed?” I know Evan would never compromise me, or us for that matter, but I’m not sure of Nate. Did he sell his brother and the rest of our team to the highest bidder?

“Rask went with Ryley and Cara. Nate and I needed to pick up some supplies in Boston and it’s easier to get them when I’m with him.”

I guess that makes sense, and I’m happy I didn’t come right out and accuse Nate of being a traitor.

“I want to see my wife.”

“We know you do, but we have to trust Cara. Things are sensitive and with Frannie close by, she doesn’t want to take any chances. Cara is already on thin ice for calling in favors.”

“How is Penny? Did she say? And Claire?” I’m starting to grow antsy and feel like Evan isn’t driving fast enough for my liking. Nate stalls, looking out the window without giving me an answer.

“Is she married?”

The silence that fills the car is enough to shatter my heart into a billion pieces. A lone tear falls before I wipe it away angrily. My wife is fucking married—illegally, but according to my death certificate legally. And even though I had suspected it, having it confirmed in not so many words feels like my life is being shredded all over again.

“Fuck,” I yell, slamming my fist into the backseat.

“Her name is Amy Barnes and Claire is now called Chloe. Cara is unsure how long she’s been married, but it’s close to five years. Penny works at the general store in town and her husband is a middle school history teacher. Cara observed that Claire is a happy child, while Penny seems nervous when she’s around her.”

I stop listening because it’s not going to matter that I’m alive. My wife has moved on, rightfully so, even under an assumed name. Deep in my heart I know she’s going to ask me to go away, at least for a few months until our seven years abandonment has expired and she can be with her husband. The shitty thing is, I’ll tell her yes because it’ll make her happy and she deserves to be happy.

Evan gets off the highway and pulls onto a windy two-lane road.

“This area was decimated by a hurricane that came up the coast. It did millions of dollars of damage and took out this road, effectively cutting the state in half. This is the main traveled road from the southern end to the central part of the state. They used granite to reinforce the bank that washed away with the rain.”

Nate fills me on why there’s a massive wall of rock one side of the road. Across the river you can clearly see where the water rose and destroyed the lands. Large trees are uprooted and banks have been torn apart by the rushing waters.

“Seems like a pretty state.” And probably one that I’m going to have to get to know if my daughter is here.

“It’s nice to look at, but frigid in the winter,” Nate replies.

“I hate snow,” Evan adds, and I happen to agree with him.

He pulls into a hotel and I quickly spot Ryley gazing over the balcony. We get out and traipse up the stairs. She pulls me into a hug, already knowing that I’ve been told the bad news.

“She’ll be here soon,” Ryley says, offering me a warm smile. “I’ll talk to her. This will work out, I promise.”

Nate taps me on the shoulder and I follow him to the room right next to hers.

“We’ll listen from here,” he says, pointing at the equipment that Rask is playing with.

“When did we become spies?”

Evan laughs behind me. “When Lawson become senator.”