Page 16

The sheer incredulousness of the situation almost made her laugh aloud.

The previous morning she’d likely set off thinking she was going to drive straight out of the danger zone, collect a fat paycheck, and head someplace warm with sunshine and trees.

A run-down secondhand bookshop and a decent sushi restaurant to while away the hours would be a bonus.

Now she was piggybacking across the street to scrounge vital supplies from a boarded-up store at the suggestion of a crotchety marine librarian who was crooning to Tot as if he were a combination of Frank Sinatra and Mary Poppins.

There was no stranger scenario than that.

And Cullen seemed to have some rosy notions that God was going to deliver them from it all.

Leaving room for the “what if,” as he called it.

Her father had said many a time, “ There’s your plan , and God’s plan , and yours doesn’t count.

” The stab of sadness made her curl tighter around Cullen, and she found her cheek coming to rest on the crown of his head.

Not because she liked him but because they’d become unwilling partners in the whole elaborate disaster unfolding around them.

Dad would no doubt have said God planned for the odd pairing, but she wasn’t accustomed to leaving things to God.

Yeah , well , how are you doing planning out your own life at the moment?

The memory of her crumpled truck brought a lump to her throat as they clomped around a fallen log occupying the middle of the street.

She’d temporarily forgotten how abruptly things could be stripped away.

She lifted her shoulders and held her face to the cold sky.

“Move it, Cullen,” Archie called. “If that hillside goes, we’ll be safer inside than out.”

“Yes, sir.” Cullen picked up his pace, causing her to tighten her hold.

She darted a look at the barely visible landscape at the end of the street.

The trailer she called home was in a quiet suburb fifty miles away from this town.

She’d never been to Grandlake, but she could see the appeal.

It was nestled in a valley with picturesque views of the foothills trickling down from Mount Ember.

They were more like mountains than hills, and if the volcano belched loose another mass, gravity would speed it right down in one lethal flow.

Cullen coughed. “How about a little looser?”

She forced her arms to slacken around his neck. “Sorry.”

He made good progress, and Kit was already squirming off his back before he could lower her properly.

“Thanks for the lift.”

“Anytime, Kit Garrido.”

Her name sounded significant on his lips.

She wondered what he really thought of her, the woman he’d met under such bizarre circumstances.

He’d said he admired her courage, but there was a difference in her mind between courage and desperate self-preservation.

What other choice was there besides fighting to survive?

That didn’t require bravery, just a deep-seated instinct.

Archie handed the key to Cullen, who unlocked the heavy wooden door.

The interior was cold and dark, but they’d brought flashlights.

The simple mom-and-pop shop was a combination grocery and convenience store, complete with an old-fashioned cash register with actual keys.

A candy bowl on the counter offered wrapped green-and-white mints.

Her flashlight beam revealed aisles crammed with everything from canned goods to basic first aid to clothing and books.

Cullen picked up the clunky rotary phone at the checkout.

“Nothing,” he said in disgust. “Worth a try, though.”

Archie jutted his chin. “First stop, shoe department.” He plodded down the second darkened aisle, which Kit and Cullen illuminated with their flashlights.

Kit sighed. “When I was a kid, I dreamed about being locked in a shopping mall overnight and being able to pick out whatever I wanted. This is as close to that dream as I’ve ever gotten.”

Cullen smiled. “Me too. Read this book once about two kids who hole up in a museum.”

Kit straightened. “Really? I know that one.”

“A gem,” Archie called over his shoulder. “ From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler . Grandkiddos loved it.”

“That’s the one.” Cullen glanced at Kit. “You read it?”

“Many times.” Thrilling, for some reason, that these two men she now depended on for survival had read the same childhood favorite.

Cullen sighed. “When we get out of here, I’m finding myself a copy of that book.”

“Me too.”

“Might as well see the positive side of the adventure.” Archie clomped to the shelves filled with winter boots and a collection of socks.

Cullen snagged a wooly striped pair and tossed them to her.

She could hardly stop from caressing them.

Warm, dry socks. She would never again take them for granted.

After she reached safety, she intended to buy up the first few packages she came across and donate them to the nearest homeless outreach.

He chuckled as he took in her expression. “I’ve got a new appreciation for socks now too.”

But how would she pay? She’d crammed her wallet in the duffel, but she didn’t carry much cash.

“I got it,” Cullen said quietly, as if he’d read her mind. “Don’t worry about the money.”

Impossible. There was never an occasion in which she did not worry about money. Her thoughts jumbled up. “I have a debit card, but only a little cash. I could—”

“I said I got it, Kit.” He looked squarely at her, his intense gaze glittering in the flashlight glow. “Pick what you need.” It was a command more than a suggestion, and she didn’t like it.

“I’ll reimburse you for everything if ...” She exhaled. “When we get out of this.”

“Not necessary.”

Her chin went up. It was very necessary. “I’m paying you back, Cullen.”

He started to argue, then shrugged. “All right. When we blow this popsicle stand at some point, we’ll settle up. Right now, we get on with it. Deal?”

She nodded, dropping to the floor to pull on the socks before she scanned the shelves for boots.

Most were far too big, but there was one pair that would work with the thick socks.

She laced them up before they moved to a small area of clothing.

The footwear felt clunky and stiff, her numbness making her gait clumsy, but the bliss of having something between her feet and the floor was indescribable.

A sweatshirt, extra socks, jeans, and jacket later and she was set. She declined another hat. “I’ve got mine.” She fingered the worn brown cap.

“We could get rained on. ‘Chill the head, close to dead’ was Gideon’s favorite saying on our wilderness hikes.

He loves nothing better than trekking to nowhere with only a small pack and his confidence.

I learned early on when Gid said ‘We’ll only go ten miles’ it was going to be closer to twenty.

He’s a SERE instructor for the Air Force now. ”

Gideon obviously shared the Landry confidence. She acquiesced when he added a chunky black ski cap to her pile. Wouldn’t hurt to have a spare, and she was too tired to argue. Arms full, she waited for Cullen to make his choices.

He acquired a few pairs of dry socks and a heavier jacket, hat, and pants.

“Grub next,” Archie said. “Only got a loaf of bread and peanut butter at the library besides the cookies and chips. Best take some food while we decide on moves.”

The edible offerings were mostly of the snack variety. They collected cheese crackers, packets of nuts, and as many water bottles as they could carry. She could not resist acquiring some sugary treats while Cullen snagged chips.

“Because who doesn’t need some crunchy, salty cheesiness when you’re outrunning a volcano?” he quipped, waving a bag of Doritos at her.

“What about Tot?” Archie said. “Gotta get some munchies for her.”

Kit was startled. “Like, actual food?”

Cullen groaned. “Oh yeah. I forgot about that.” He explained, “She’s about nine months or so, to my mind. She’ll be eating some solid foods, more than likely. There was a baggie of some cereal stuff in her duffel.”

Archie nodded sagely. “Yeah. I think I saw a glimmer of teeth when she was hollering, a nice neat pair coming in on the bottom.”

Teeth. The baby had teeth. What else did this kid need that she was unaware of?

Prickles of panic ribboned up her spine.

What if they didn’t provide it? Bad enough the baby was at risk due to their situation, but what if Tot was harmed out of pure ignorance?

Smothered by her blankets? Given an improperly sterilized bottle? Dehydrated or vitamin deprived?

Calm down. Cullen knew about babies, even if she didn’t. The pink book cover flashed in her memory. Your Baby , Month by Month . She’d never gotten past chapter 3 when the fetus was still plumping and doubling like rising dough, now the length of a peapod, now the heft of a small lemon.

Her ears replayed the soft whoosh and rhythm she’d heard at the doctor’s office, a tiny heartbeat.

Two hearts beating in one person. Breathtaking and terrifying.

Until there was only one again, the other just an echo of memory.

“You okay?”

Cullen was looking at her over the top of his pile. She jerked, stuffing away the dark thoughts. “Yes. Tot needs solid food along with her milk. I get it.”

“These were the exact ticket for my grands when they were getting teeth,” Archie said, taking a mini box of Rice Krispies from the shelf and shaking it. “Easy to eat, and the dog cleaned up all the bits that didn’t find their target.”

Kit took the cereal.

Archie sailed on. “Next stop, the baby aisle. Think they got more infant foods there.”

In a daze, she followed Cullen and Archie around an endcap filled with Sterno, camp stoves, and emergency lanterns, tidily displayed. She admired the shop owners’ sense of order. Not the slightest sign that they’d hastily evacuated.