Edge of Valor: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller(23)



He’d just made this conflict very, very personal.

Dread settled like a stone in his belly.

This was his fault. Instead of safeguarding the people that he loved, he’d put them in the crosshairs. He was only one man. All the training, skills, and expertise paled against an army.

He could not protect them.

He could not save Hannah.

The sound of a distant engine rumbled. Several members of the security team whipped around, facing town as they half-lifted their weapons, nerves raw, tensions high.

It was one of their own.

Evelyn drove toward them, parked behind the bike rack, and leapt off the ATV.

She raced toward the barricade, medical bag in hand. “What happened?”

“It’s too late,” Quinn said, stricken. “He’s dead.”





14





Hannah





Day One Hundred and Five





“This is some place, right?” Hannah asked Liam.

“It’s like a cave—but not,” Liam said.

Liam and Hannah were at the Salt Cave, a hole-in-the-wall business on the northern outskirts of town, just past Fall Creek Inn along the river, just within the new security perimeter.

Outside, the full moon cast everything in a silvery glow. Cold fog drifted between the buildings and trees, cloaking the world in a sinister white mist.

Inside, two kerosene lanterns shed flickering orange light over a twelve-by-twelve room decorated to look like a cave. The walls were dark and textured with built-in benches.

A fake fireplace in the corner boasted several brick-sized chunks of salt. Globe-shaped pendants—their lightbulbs long dead—hung from each wall. Six inches of coarse, pinkish salt covered the floor.

Liam’s weapons leaned against the faux-cave wall next to his go-bag. Hannah was armed with her trusty Ruger American. Perez stood guard outside in case of trouble.

News had traveled fast along the communication network Dave and Jamal had cobbled together. Within a couple of hours, every citizen of Fall Creek knew of Albert and Wendy Edlin’s grisly murders.

The General’s threat loomed over the town like a brewing hurricane, the ominous storm clouds heavy with the promise of violence.

Hannah felt the seconds and minutes ticking like a time bomb. Only fourteen hours until the deadline. The town had to provide their answer to the General’s demand.

The council would meet tomorrow morning to make their final decision.

Since Edlin’s death, she and Liam had hardly seen each other. Liam had interviewed the scouts for every ounce of intel that he could gather, then spent hours shoring up their defensive lines and working with the snipers.

Hannah had also worked overtime, Charlotte in her carrier as she met with the council and various community groups to calm the people and explain what had happened.

Everyone was alarmed, distraught, and terrified. Hannah couldn’t blame them.

Finally, night fell, and the townspeople retreated to their candle-lit abodes.

Milo and Charlotte were sleeping under Molly’s watchful eye, so Hannah had asked Liam to meet her tonight. He needed to talk, but she didn’t want to press him until he was ready. He’d bring it up on his own terms.

Hannah breathed deeply. “We need more than bullets to keep us alive. I know what we’re facing, but we can’t afford to stop planning for the future. Not even now.”

Liam leaned on the shovel and glared at the salt mounds like they might bite him. “I had no idea what this place was. Figured it was a new age shop that sold lava lamps.”

While the small shop sold Himalayan salt lamps, essential oils, and bath salts, its key feature was a “salt room,” where customers breathed in the healing aerosolized air and dug their feet in the salt, like a sandy beach.

“You ever heard the phrase ‘worth his weight in salt’?” Hannah asked.

“I might have. Never knew what it meant.”

“In ancient Roman times, salt was such a precious commodity that they used it as currency. Slaves were bought and sold with salt. Soldiers were paid in salt. Like then, salt will be in high demand soon. We’re getting a jump on things before everyone else realizes it, too.”

“You read that in one of Molly’s books.”

“I did,” she said. “But Evelyn using that salt solution to clean your wounds reminded me. Salt has so many uses. It inhibits bacteria in wounds, which is becoming more crucial as antibiotics get scarce. The body needs sodium to function. We need salt to preserve meat and fish without refrigeration.

“Somehow, it’s never at the top of people’s usual survival lists. We’ve become so used to its ubiquity that it’s hard to imagine that people could die without it. But who’s manufacturing salt? What will we do once the container in our pantry runs out?”

Liam toed a small mound with his foot. “This doesn’t look like that kind of salt.”

“Pink Himalayan salt is prized for its health and healing properties, but we can use it like regular salt, too.”

Liam made a face. “People put their bare feet in this stuff, you know.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers. You see any other mountains of salt lying around?”

“Touché.” Liam thrust the shovel into the salt and dumped a load into the extra-strength trash bag. “Don’t be salty.”

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