Page 10 of Whispers and Warriors (After #2)

TEN

Emma sat in the back of the truck, her thoughts whirling like the dust kicked up by the tires on the broken road. The fields and hills of her family’s farm flashed through her mind, a siren song of safety and nostalgia amidst the chaos of their shattered world. It hadn’t been perfect—which is why she’d dared to leave—but it had been something she understood. Something she could navigate.

She could picture it so clearly, so vividly even though she’d spent so much time taking it for granted back before. She could almost smell the animals in the sturdy house, the well-stocked root cellar, and the wet dirt that helped her grow what she needed. The animals she’d kept alive were no doubt now all slaughtered for food, but it was what they’d been for before the bombs and at least they’d helped people.

It would be so easy to ask Chris to turn the truck west, to retreat to that isolated haven and shut out the dangers that chased them. They could be okay there, back at her farm. It wasn’t likely the government would look for them there, and she’d done okay with the supplies she had. It would be harder without eggs and milk, but the government food drops were still a thing. Or at least she assumed.

But even as the temptation tugged at her, Emma knew it was an illusion. The farm wasn’t impenetrable. It wasn’t an impressive barrier between the hell of the world and her. Sooner or later, the harsh realities of this post-apocalyptic existence would find them there, too. And more than that, her heart balked at the idea of abandoning their mission, of leaving behind the sliver of hope for a better future that might be waiting for them.

Sighing, Emma leaned against Liam’s solid form beside her, taking comfort in his steady presence. His arm tightened around her shoulders almost instantly.

“You doing okay?” he asked softly, his breath warm against her temple.

She nodded, burrowing closer. “Just thinking too much, I guess.”

“Anything you want to talk about?”

Glancing up at him, she saw the weariness that shadowed his blue eyes behind the glasses, the new lines carved into his handsome face. The easy smiles and jokes that had defined him when they first met were rarer now, tempered by loss and hard choices. But there was a sturdiness to him too, a calm strength that anchored her when the enormity of it all threatened to sweep her away.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she told him, lacing their fingers together. “I don’t think I could do this without you.”

“Sure you could,” Liam replied, pressing a kiss to her hair. “You’re the strongest person I know, Emma. But I’m grateful to be by your side wherever this crazy road takes us. We’re going to make it through this, together.”

In his arms, Emma could almost believe it was true.

Her mind continued to drift as the truck rumbled on, the monotonous drone of the tires against asphalt lulling her into a contemplative state. She thought about the daydream from moments before, a tantalizing glimpse of a life that could have been.

She pictured Liam tending to the animals that they’d somehow find somewhere, his gentle hands soothing skittish sheep and coaxing reluctant crops from the earth. Alex would be in his element, helping make sure all their tools worked right, and William would love life just getting to belong somewhere. Chris and Bash would fortify the perimeter, ever-vigilant guardians against the dangers that lurked beyond.

It was a beautiful fantasy, but that’s all it could ever be. The farm was gone, razed to ashes like so much of the world they’d known. Six of them really couldn’t live inside.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and Emma blinked them back fiercely. She couldn’t afford to dwell on might-have-beens, not when they had so far still to go.

“You’re awful quiet again,” Liam remarked, twisting around to look at her. “You sure everything’s okay?”

“I was picturing you with the animals,” she began slowly, her voice barely audible over the rumble of the engine. “Caring for them, building a bond. You said you always had a bond with pets, and Ranger is proof of that. I think you’d be a natural with livestock.”

A surprised chuckle escaped him. “I’m not sure I’ve ever pictured myself as a farmer, but I suppose I could learn. What about the others?”

Emma’s smile widened as she let the images flow. “Alex would keep everything running smoothly—he’s so brilliant with machines and technology. Anything that broke, he could fix. And William...” Her expression softened. “He’d finally have a place to call home. Somewhere he belongs, surrounded by people who care about him to explore what he wanted.”

“He’d like that,” Liam agreed quietly, his gaze distant. “The kid’s been through a lot. We all have.” Liam glanced toward where William slept peacefully.

“Chris and Bash would stay basically as they are,” Emma continued, warming to her fantasy. “They’d fortify the perimeter, set up patrols. My parents had a decent stockpile of weapons in the basement, and with a few upgrades, it could be a real stronghold.”

She paused, swallowing around the sudden lump in her throat. “It’s not a terrible area, you know. Not a lot of people around to draw the government’s attention. We might be able to make it work, if we had to.”

Liam’s fingers tightened around hers, his callused thumb rubbing soothing circles on her skin. “Is that what you want? To go back?”

“No,” Emma said immediately, shaking her head. “No, I don’t think so. It’s just...it’s a nice dream, you know? A life with all of you, in a place that used to mean something to me. But that’s all it is. A dream.”

She sighed, leaning her head against Liam’s shoulder. “We have to keep going. Keep fighting for something better than just surviving in the middle of nowhere. I guess sometimes I just wish...”

“That we didn’t have to fight at all,” Liam finished for her, his voice heavy with understanding. “That we could just...be together without the constant threats hanging over our heads.”

“Exactly.” Emma closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the solid warmth of him

“For what it’s worth,” Chris chimed in. “They’d find us there easily. They know about Emma’s history and returning would be dangerous.”

“Oh,” she opened her eyes for a moment and hoped they couldn’t hear just how sad she was that her past truly was gone.

“Don’t worry. There’s a place soon. We just have to get there.”

“Speaking of,” Alex called from the font as the truck stopped but he didn’t kill the engine. “Dock’s up ahead,” he called from the driver’s seat, his tone sharp with tension. “But I don’t see a ferry. Guess it make sense it wouldn’t come early and hang around. Just like all the factories and warehouses, things have to be done under armed guard at the docks and they’d be quite obvious.”

Chris leaned forward, his brow furrowed as he scanned the horizon. “You think there might be smugglers around? Someone who could get us to where the main boat would be, up the coast?”

Alex shrugged, his hands tight on the wheel. “It’s worth a shot. Better than sitting here with our thumbs up our asses.”

Emma peered out the window, taking in the dilapidated buildings and rusted boats that lined the shore. The dock looked like something out of a nightmare, all jagged edges and deep shadows, and the thought of venturing out there made her skin crawl.

But what choice did they have? They couldn’t stay in the truck forever, living on cold rations and water. They needed a real plan, a way to get to safety and start building a future.

Even if that future was nothing like the one she’d dreamed of.

Bash’s jaw clenched as he surveyed what he could see of the docks. The last thing he wanted was to make another move that put the team at risk again after everything they’d been through.

Even if Chris ordered it.

But the stranger who’d helped them had been clear. The boat that crossed the Atlantic was their best shot at getting out of this hellhole, and it only ran from a port further up the coast. A boat that was met by a ferry that left out of this Maryland port because of its proximity to the safe haven where the women were saved from.

Saved from a safe haven , he snorted, still annoyed he’d fucked up the last three years of his life dreaming of getting to a place like the government haven.

“All right,” Chris said at last, his voice rough with exhaustion. “Let’s see if we can find someone who can get us on a boat. But we move quick and quiet, got it? No drawing attention. Absolutely no mention of Emma, not that I needed to tell you that. Even if someone mentions helping women, that’s not a card we play until we’re onboard and see other women.”

Bash met Alex’s gaze in the rearview mirror, and took note of the way his emotions seemed reflected back at him, even if he and Alex couldn’t be more different. They both knew the risks, the danger that came with every interaction in this new world. The whole unit did. It was only Emma he worried didn’t truly understand, but she’d been through a hell of a lot.

But they also knew the alternative, another day in the truck, another night huddled together for warmth, another meal of cold beans and peanut butter crackers. Another night where they could be found because they couldn’t go too far from the dock.

No , Bash thought as he reached for the door handle. They had to take this chance, had to fight for something better.

Even if it meant facing the unknown, the terrifying possibilities that lurked in every shadow.

“Alex, Bash, you’re with me. Give Liam the keys. Let’s move,” Chris said, and stepped out into the cold, gray light of morning.

Bash climbed out of the truck, his boots crunching on the gravel.

He watched Chris stand next to Liam, his words quiet, but not undetectable.

“If something goes wrong, you floor it the fuck out of here, understand?” His voice was low, urgent. “Just like we discussed.”

Liam nodded, his jaw set. “Got it, Boss.”

Alex tossed Liam the keys, a silent exchange of trust. Bash slammed the passenger door shut just as William must’ve tugged the back shut. Both clangs echoing in the stillness.

The three men moved toward the docks, their steps cautious, their senses heightened. With Alex, Bash flanked Chris. Both of them weapons at the ready, their eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of danger.

Bash’s heart thundered against his ribcage, the rapid beats echoing in his ears as they neared the bustling docks. The salty sea air filled his nostrils and he could hear the distant calling of seagulls overhead. Ships of all sizes lined the harbor, their ropes creaking and sails rustling in the wind. Bash’s anticipation grew with each step toward the water’s edge, not liking just how empty the area was.

This was a bad idea .

His grip tightened on his gun. Docks were dangerous enough before the bombs, crawling with lowlifes and scum. Now? They were a fucking death trap.

Nothing moved, and if there were government men overseeing, they weren’t here. What day even is it?

A flicker of movement caught his eye. Someone hiding behind a stack of crates. Bash’s muscles tensed, ready to spring into action. He signaled to Chris and Alex, then stepped forward, taking point at Chris’s gesture.

He knew his size was intimidating, had used it to his advantage more times than he could count. As he drew closer, the figure emerged from the shadows.

The man was whipcord lean, with a weathered face and eyes that glinted like shards of ice. He wore a battered leather jacket, his long hair as messy as the frayed ropes around him. There was an air of danger about him, a coiled energy that spoke of a man who had seen too much, done too much.

Bash recognized the type. A smuggler, most likely. The kind of man who made a living disrupting government raids, who knew the hidden routes and secret ways of this shattered world. A perfect candidate to get them where they needed to go without being seen.

The smuggler eyed them warily, his hand resting on the hilt of a wicked-looking knife at his belt. “What do you want?” he asked, his voice rough as gravel.

Bash glanced at Chris and saw the determination in his leader’s eyes. This was it, he realized. Their shot at getting out of this hellhole.

He just hoped it wouldn’t end up getting them all killed.

Chris stepped forward, his posture straight and commanding. “We need passage out of the city,” he said, his voice steady. “And we’re willing to pay.”

The smuggler’s eyes narrowed. “Is that so?” He looked them over, assessing. “And just what are you offering? Money doesn’t exactly do shit around here.”

Bash’s fingers twitched, itching to reach for his gun. He didn’t like this, didn’t trust the calculating gleam in the smuggler’s eyes. But he held himself still, let Chris do the talking.

“Information,” Chris said. “About government operations. Supply routes, troop movements. The kind of intel that could make your job a whole lot easier.”

The smuggler’s eyebrows lifted. “Bold claim. How do I know you’re not just feeding me a line of bullshit?”

Chris met his gaze unflinchingly. “Because we’re ex-military. Special ops. We’ve seen things, know things that could give you a real edge out there.”

Bash had to hand it to Chris. The man had a way of projecting authority, of making people believe in him. It was one of the reasons he’d followed him through hell and back again for all these years.

The smuggler seemed to consider this, his head cocked to one side. “All right,” he said at last. “Say I’m interested. What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” Chris said. “Just safe passage for my team. You get us out of the city, up the coast. After that, we go our separate ways. Can’t be more than a day or two for any ship.”

Bash’s eyes flicked to the surrounding docks, scanning for any sign of trouble. His body was coiled tight, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. He didn’t like being out in the open like this, exposed.

Too many places for an ambush, for things to go sideways. And in this world, things had a habit of going sideways.

He shifted his weight, deeply aware of the reassuring press of his knife against his thigh. If it came down to it, he was ready. He’d do whatever it took to protect his team, to keep them safe.

Even if it meant getting his hands dirty.

The tension hung thick in the air, a palpable weight pressing down on them. Bash’s muscles tensed, his fingers twitching, itching to reach for his weapon. But before he could make a move, Alex stepped forward, a disarming smile playing across his lips.

“Look, we’re all on the same side here,” Alex said, his voice smooth as silk. “We’re just trying to survive, same as you. And we’ve got information that could help you do just that.” The smuggler’s gaze shifted to Alex, a flicker of interest in his eyes. “My boss wasn’t lying. We’re ex-military. Wouldn’t you like information like that?”

Alex’s smile widened, a conspiratorial gleam in his hazel eyes. “The kind that could give you a real edge out there.”

He was only repeating but Chris had already said, but Alex had a way about him that Chris’s gruffness couldn’t match. It was a skill that had gotten them out of more than one tight spot over the years.

The smuggler leaned forward, his curiosity piqued at the realization that the offer was legit.

“And all you need is this passage?” the smuggler asked, his voice low and rough.

Alex shrugged, a casual roll of his shoulders. “A way out of this hellhole. We’re not looking for trouble, just a chance to start over somewhere new.”

The smuggler studied them for a long moment, his dark eyes calculating, weighing the risks and benefits of the deal. Bash could practically see the gears turning in his head, the calculations being made.

Finally, the smuggler nodded, a slow, deliberate motion. “All right,” he said, his voice gruff. “I’ll take you up the coast. But after that, you’re on your own.”

Bash let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, the tension draining from his body. They had a way out, a chance to escape the city and the horrors that lurked within.

“We appreciate the offer,” Chris stepped back up again, his voice steady and unwavering.

The smuggler’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of annoyance crossing his weathered face. “I’m not running a goddamn cruise ship here,” he growled. “I’ve got my own skin to worry about. We can leave in three hours. It’ll take two days.”

Fuck . Bash remembered the other man’s words. The ferry would’ve been there soon and they could miss it if the captain deemed it full enough to sail.

“I’ll give you intel while you take us. Half. The other half when we leave.”

“Deal, but anything false, and I will find you.”

As they turned to head back to the truck, Alex walked backward, his eyes never leaving the smuggler’s, his hand resting on the gun at his hip. It was a precaution, a silent warning that they were not to be trifled with.

They had won this battle, but the war was far from over.