Edge of Valor: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller(43)

A moment later, she was at the crib.

White sheets. Zoo animal mobile hanging still and silent. Liam’s crooked little hat stuffed into one corner.

It was empty.

Adrenaline turned her veins to ice. Terror clawed at her throat, choked off her breath.

Wildly, she scanned the crib, blinking as if that would bring back the proper image: Charlotte curled into a tiny ball, a halo of fuzzy dark hair, fat little thumb jammed into her rosebud mouth.

Still empty.

She took a single staggering step backward. No, no, no…

And then it hit her.

The memory flooded her mind—earlier that evening, after she’d nursed Charlotte, Evelyn had offered to take the baby for the night to allow Hannah some restful sleep.

In her weary, sleep-deprived state, she’d completely forgotten.

Relieved, she sagged against the crib to catch her breath. Her pulse roared in her ears. For a moment, she’d feared the worst…

Ghost whined again.

Her gaze lowered to her dog. His hackles still raised.

The rapid beat of her heart did not slow. The sour-sick feeling of dread did not dissipate.

It grew stronger.

Ghost turned in a restless circle, snout high, sniffing the air. The Great Pyr stepped in front of her, pushing her with his powerful hindquarters.

She squatted and rested her hand on his side. The deep, unsettling rumble vibrated in the dog’s chest.

The silence pressed in on her. Heavy with foreboding.

Ghost’s head snapped up, ears pricked. His body went stiff, his plumed tail sticking straight back, as if he were preparing to launch at some unseen attacker.

The hairs on the back of Hannah’s neck stood on end.

She felt torn, the precious seconds passing too swiftly, sifting between her fingers. She needed to get to Charlotte. And she needed to radio for help.

Swiftly, she moved back into her bedroom and grabbed the radio on her night table, the solar battery charger beside it. Alarm swelled within her with each step.

“I need Liam,” she said. Her whisper loud as a shout in the eerie quiet. “At the Brooks’ house. Something’s wrong.”

“Copy that,” Reynoso said. “Aid on route. You should wait—”

She couldn’t wait. Every second mattered.

Her chest seized. Instinct screamed at her to MOVE. She set the radio back on the nightstand and turned to Ghost.

Shaken, she placed her bad hand on his spine. She dug her fingers into his thick fur. You know what to do.

Ghost headed for the door. Hannah followed.

She hated leaving her son behind in the empty house. But her instincts warned her that the threat no longer lay within these walls but out there.

It was her other child in danger. Her baby.

Hannah needed to get to Charlotte.

She needed to find her daughter right now.





29





Hannah





Day One Hundred and Ten





Ghost sprinted to the front door, Hannah right behind him. In the dark, she barely avoided skinning her knee on the coffee table.

She didn’t waste time with her coat, pausing only to push on her unlaced boots.

She had Ghost; she had her .45.

She fumbled at the lock with her misshapen hand. Her crooked fingers were clumsier in her fear, but she didn’t dare put down the pistol.

The door opened. Ghost shouldered through. He darted into the night, a hurtling white streak in absolute darkness.

There were no stars. No moon. The clouds thick, black, and heavy.

It was bitterly cold. The frigid air sliced through her flannel pajamas. She inhaled a sharp breath, expelling white clouds, and stumbled after Ghost.

This is crazy, that rational voice whispered in her mind. You’re going to wake up Evelyn, Travis, and the babies, ranting like an insane woman.

But there was Ghost, alert and agitated. And her intuition like a jangling alarm inside her head.

She’d ignored that alarm the night Gavin Pike stopped on the side of the road. The night she’d been stolen from her own life.

She wouldn’t ignore it again.

Hannah reached the Brooks’ front door and paused. Ghost raced around the corner of the house. Once again, she followed his lead.

In the distance, thunder rumbled. Electricity crackled in the frigid air.

She strained her ears for any sound. The squelch of wet, matted grass beneath her boots. The scent of wet earth filled her nostrils. It smelled like rain.

And something else. The whiff of cigarette smoke.

Dread scrabbled up her spine. Hannah hurried to the rear patio and felt her way between the patio furniture. Her boots crunched broken glass.

The slider door was half-open.

Evelyn and Travis were too careful to leave a door unlocked, let alone open.

Someone had broken in. Someone was inside the house.

For an instant, she froze, bracing against a shot of liquid fear. Her scalp tingled. That old familiar darkness descended, stealing her thoughts, blackening her mind, taking her away.

She did not give in to it. She fought against the nothingness with every ounce of her strength. What had once protected her from the worst horrors imaginable now threatened everything she held dear.

Hannah breathed in, breathed out. Cold air stung her cheeks. The heft of the .45 in her hands. Her dog pressed against her thigh, whining, scratching at the door to get in.