Surrender the Sun: A Post Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller (14 page)

He focused on the retreating men again, who were just entering the building. Were those guys just hotel security? Bishop wasn’t sure, and he’d never known them to carry arms before. The door closed hard. It was impossible to see inside of the hotel’s glass, but he knew they’d have an unobstructed view of him if he broke his cover.

Now the streets were quiet. Bishop felt like he’d come at the end of a battle, and from the looks of the bodies lying in the open, he was probably right. Bishop wasn’t prepared for this. He knew now who controlled the city—their leader was a guy named Ramsey. Though he had the information he came for, he had to return to Maeve for now. Bishop needed to head back to camp before the short day turned to night so that he could keep her safe…and so that he could plan how to take back the town.

Louna coughed from the cave room, and when she did, the jagged sound of it made Maeve cringe while she kept watch at the doorway. Then Louna coughed again and couldn’t seem to catch her breath.

Maeve had no choice but to leave her post to aid the child. Panicking because she couldn’t breathe, Louna began hyperventilating and coughing in intervals. Maeve rushed to her and pulled her up from the pillow where she was lying. “Louna, it’s all right,” she soothed as she patted her back. Ben sat up, whipping his eyes toward Louna and looking worried. “Get a cup of water, Ben,” Maeve said, and he scampered out of the room.

Louna was now crying through the coughing fit, and Maeve picked her up quickly and swung her around to cradle her in her lap. “Louna,” she said sternly, “calm down. You’ll make it worse. Breathe…breathe…that’s it. Just calm down,” she encouraged in a soothing tone. She had to get the girl’s attention. She was leading into hysterics, and nothing good came from hysterics, or at least that’s what Maeve’s mother used to say. “That’s it. You’re doing better,” Maeve said when the girl’s breathing slowed. Ben stood at her side with a cup filled with water. He stood tentative, casting worried glances at the girl in his mother’s arms.

“She’s fine, Ben,” she said as she took the cup and held it to the girl’s lips. Louna had to slow her breathing even more as she took sips of the water.

“See, she’s better now.”

“I want…my…mom,” Louna cried, and large pools of tears filled her eyes.

Maeve held her close. Louna’s voice still sounded rough and raw, and she was warm from a low temperature. “I know, sweetheart, but you’re fine now. Why don’t you try to sleep a little longer?”

The girl cried for a bit more, and when she settled down, Maeve moved her to the cot again, and she buried her face into the tearstained pillow.

Maeve patted her back as she fell back to sleep.

“Mom, why can’t we bring her back to her family?” Ben whispered.

Maeve motioned for her son to come closer to the front room. “I don’t think her family made it out of the fire, Ben.”

He looked back at the girl lying on the cot in the back room. “So she’s an orphan?”

Maeve shook her head. “I don’t know. We’ll find out in a few days. Bishop went to town to check out things down there. We’ll return there when it’s safe. Hopefully we can find her relatives when we do.”

Ben nodded as if he understood. She wasn’t certain he did, but then again, her son had already lost one parent; maybe he understood more than she gave him credit for. Adults didn’t have a monopoly on pain, which was something she needed to keep in mind.

A gust of wind rattled the door then. She and Ben both shuddered, and then she realized she needed to get back to her post.

“When’s this going to stop, Mom?”

Maeve moved back to the doorway and held the rifle in her hand. “I don’t know, son. Bishop believes this will last for years to come. He said we’re in a mini ice age now. It’s the same thing that the weatherman referred to as the Maunder Minimum.”

“Why can’t we go into town?”

“Because those men that burned down Louna’s house also burned down ours. You remember that?”

He nodded. Maeve hated that the memory would be etched in his mind—armed men blowing out their front window as they fled into the night. If it wasn’t for Bishop, she and her son would likely be dead by now, she realized.

The door racketed in the wind. When she looked outside, the snow blew so hard she couldn’t even see the trees across the small clearing. Not long before, she’d seen them waving in the wind. To think that Bishop was out in that mess…She worried about this stranger because he’d kept her and the children alive over the past few days. She needed him…and that thought alone scared her more than anything else. She was a grieving widow. That had been her identity over the past year, and now here she was worrying about another man, a friend of her dead husband’s.

Ben wandered into the cave room again to check on Louna. He’d become protective of the girl since the moment he had to check her pulse. She thought it was sweet in a way but awful in another. What if this world was one where you lost your loved ones more so than their old reality? She couldn’t bear her son going through the grief she held for his father.

Ben pulled the covers up over the girl’s shoulders and tucked them in around her. When the wind blew again and the door rattled, Maeve watched her son. Then suddenly, she felt the door rattle deliberately harder, and a strange man’s breath leached through the cracks and onto her neck.

“Let me in!”

On a crisp fall morning, the sun shone bright, and David was enjoying his morning as he read the local newspaper, which was a luxury. Newspapers were a thing of the past and to purchase a printed subscription cost quite a high fee now, but he loved the feel of the paper between his fingers and sorting through the pages rather than swiping on a screen.

Of course, he also owned the local newspaper, and because it was one of his family’s many businesses he still demanded the printed format despite the lack of cost effectiveness. He reached for his orange juice and took a sip. The sun warmed the back of his neck. He looked out over the marina, watching a few of the boats heading out for a day on the lake. It would be one of the last nice days of the season.

At sixty-three, David Geller II had stopped trying to live up to his father’s name. The mogul who built the empire by Lake Coeur d’Alene proved to be a man impossible to emulate, and yet the best David could do was uphold all his father had achieved. That was the way of things in his mind. He would never be as great a man as his father was, but then again, he loved the man and was proud to call him Dad.

He’d died peacefully in his sleep a decade before, but David still thought of the man every single day, and why not? Everything about his life now revolved around what had taken a lifetime to accomplish. He was merely the caretaker now. The caretaker of the Geller dynasty.

David brushed away an errant fly as he sat on the balcony of his penthouse at the top of the resort tower. He was only going to be there for a few days on business. He and his family called Arizona home now. David was never in favor of having his children grow up in Coeur d’Alene among the shadows that he contended with even now. He wanted his children to grow up somewhere where their mistakes weren’t reported in the daily small-town paper. Where if they went over the speed limit occasionally it wasn’t reported by everyone who was watching them. No, he had men to oversee everything now. They were capable and so was he…from afar. The gem by the lake was in good hands, and though he was still CEO of the private company that owned the family’s entities, Roman was the true man behind the machine.

“Sir.” Austin Sanchez, David Geller’s personal assistant, stepped out of the door from the penthouse and onto the balcony. “You have a nine-fifteen with Mr. Roman, sir.”

David checked his platinum watch on his wrist, not quite believing he’d been sitting out there enjoying his morning for quite that long. “Sure, send him in.”

Austin disappeared inside the penthouse, and a few seconds later Roman stepped outside onto the patio and walked toward David. Though Roman ran things with precision, David found him to be a difficult man. He often disagreed with him over minor changes and had to reprimand Roman by reminding him who was actually in charge. He overlooked the challenges because Roman did the job well, even in spite of him questioning his authority too often.

That’s why David was here, to check on Roman. Overseeing that his decisions were, in fact, being put into action.

“Good morning, Mr. Geller,” Ramsey Roman said.

David flipped his sunglasses up onto the top of his head. He wanted to see the man before him clearly. Roman was dressed in a shirt and tie. His black hair always combed back straight, his face clean shaven, and his dark eyes drilled into whomever he looked at. David often found the younger man intimidated most people. He looked like a mob boss, and perhaps that’s why things were done so efficiently. No one questioned him. His voice was booming and relentless, and he had no qualms about using it to thrash insubordinates.

David hated yelling. He wasn’t suited to arguments. He paid people to do that kind of thing.

“Good morning, Roman. How are things?”

Roman took the opposite seat at the table and pulled out the tablet he carried around with him always. He flipped through a few apps.

David folded up the newspaper and set it down on the table. Watching Roman with feigned interest, he then wiped his mouth on a napkin. Another boat caught his attention as it left the marina and sailed out to the south side of the lake. David longingly thought what a great afternoon it would be to feel the cool spray against his skin while the sun beat down and the refreshing breeze came in off the lake.

“There’re a few things we should discuss, sir,” Roman said to recapture David’s attention.

“Well, go ahead. I’m listening.”

Roman nodded. “The hotel is at eighty-three percent capacity this morning. Not unusual for this time of year as the weather changes. The golf course is being readied for the end of the season. The newspaper is reporting steady revenue. In all, nothing out of the ordinary except…”

“Except?” David asked.

“Except that there are weather reports coming in saying that there’s a big snowstorm on the way. Very unusual for this time of year.”

“Snowstorm? At the end of October?”

“Yes, sir. The meteorologists are scrambling. It might impact the resort’s weekend.”

“I’ve grown up here, and I only remember it snowing a few times in October, but not an
actual
snowstorm. Besides, it’ll blow over in a few days. Nothing we can’t handle. If we lose a few bookings that’s nothing to worry about.”

Roman looked at him with those dark eyes. He wanted to say something more but held back.

“Winterize the hotel early if you must.”

Roman clipped a quick, resolute nod at his boss.

“Is that all?”

“Yes, sir,” Roman said and stood.

“Let me know if anything changes.”

Roman nodded again and took his leave.

David gazed out at the water as the midmorning sun reflected on the placid waves. Even if there was a snowstorm coming in, the boaters still would have this last glorious day of the season. Though, currently, there wasn’t a cloud in sight.

“Go away!” Maeve screamed through the door. There were three men on the other side, and they continued to push against the gate. The sky had darkened after a brief period of gray, and for over an hour now they’d begged her to let them enter.

“We need to come inside. It’s cold. Help us,” one of the men pleaded.

“No, I’ve told you there’s nothing for you here. It’s just me, and I’m not letting you in. Please go away. I’m sure you can find shelter somewhere else.”

It didn’t make sense to her. If they really needed somewhere to stay, why didn’t they hole up in the stable next door? Not that she wanted them to, but that’s what she would have done if she were in the same circumstances.

No, these people were up to no good. She could feel it. The leader’s voice made her skin crawl, and the others pleaded with her as if they were taunting her.

Louna was crying now in the back of the cave, and Ben was with her trying to calm her down. She motioned for them to keep quiet, but it was no use.

Through the slats, she saw one of the men eyeballing the inside. She picked up her mug and threw her water at him.

He growled, shaking the water off his face. “She’s got babies in there.”

Maeve’d had enough. “I said, leave! Leave now, or I’ll shoot.”

“Darlin’, we’ve got all the time in the world. We’re staying right here until you let us inside.”

Noticing that the leader was back and the other two were probably hiding out in the stable next door, she realized they were tag-teaming her, and then she heard one of them banging on the wall behind the woodstove. They were inside the stable now, doing their best to scare her. She had no idea where Bishop was or when he’d be back, and she was afraid that they’d shoot him if he showed up and didn’t know they were there.

“I have nothing for you here,” she tried again. “I have no food for you to take. Go away.”

“Oh, you have something for us, darlin’.”

She shuddered. These guys were the scum who hung out in the lowest parts of town. The ones who were picked up constantly for heroin and other such nefarious activities. Every town had them, even Coeur d’Alene, and in a time of crisis they always came out of the woodwork to take advantage of those who worked for a living.

She was in real danger. They continued to bang on the walls. There was no other exit to escape from, but they could break down the wood partition between the two structures where the woodstove stood. She’d have to shoot them before they could get to her, or they might hurt the children.

“Look, I’m armed. If you keep this up, I’m going to have to shoot. Do you understand?”

They didn’t answer, but they continued to tear at the wall. Dust fell from the ceiling. This was deliberate, and she couldn’t believe they would take advantage of a woman in a desperate situation. “Stop! I mean it. Stop the banging!”

They still didn’t heed her warnings. Then, the wood wall rattled near the woodstove. Vibrating with each slam of a fist, the planks jostled to the other side.

Terrified, she left the doorway to shore up the wall. “I’ve had it!” she snapped when a slate gave way just above her head. A large dirty hand shot through the opening suddenly and grabbed a handful of her hair. She pulled to the other side, but it was too late.