Read Those Who Remain (Book 2) for Free Online

it’s okay. We should try to climb up again.”
    I shake my head. “It’s too soon. They will hear us.”
    He doesn't answer, and the pause reminds me of how we ended up down here in the first place.
    “I'm sorry about what I said,” I mumble, hugging myself. “About your Dad.”
    “Why did you do it? You know… You know how he died. It wasn't his fault. He was shot.”
    “I know. I'm sorry. I just—”
    “You think I suck, don’t you?” I’m about to argue, but he continues, “I know I complain too much. Get tired all the time and do dumb stuff like falling into ditches. Sorry. If you want to leave me behind, it’s okay. I get it.”
    “I don’t. Really. Besides, the ditch thing was kind of my fault.”
    “Okay, I guess. So, friends?”
    “Yeah. Friends.”
    A cold breeze forces me to hug my knees, back against the earth. I look up to the sky, hidden by the trees around us.
    “If you had a lightsaber, which color would you pick?” Peter asks, moving to sit next to me.
    “Orange, I guess.”
    I can see him rolling his eyes, now that he’s closer. “Everyone wants red, green or blue. Why can’t you pick a normal color?”
    “Because I like being different.”
    He laughs and shakes his head. Again, I feel a smile forming on my lips. I like the sound of his laugh.
    “This is cool, right?” He says after a few seconds of silence.
    “What?”
    “Us, being friends. It’s cool we can talk about this stuff. Helps forget what’s out there.”
    I nod. We don’t say anything else. The sun finally sets. My head falls on his shoulder, and his hand finds mine in the darkness. He falls asleep, but I can’t. This ditch isn’t safe. Our food is still up there. We don’t have any water and his ankle won’t get better in days. We are going to be slow and loud now. Easy prey for animals and everything else. I look up, wondering if I can climb the vines alone, then I turn to Peter beside me. For a second, my heart races. I would leave him behind.
    My eyes close, and I shake my head. I can't do that . But before I fall asleep a question won’t leave me: Why not?

 
     
     
     
     
     

     
    The Hunter's Daughter V
    December 18th, Friday, 12 am
     
     
    I reach Redwood by midnight. The knuckles on my hand are white against the steering wheel. A heavy truck blocks the Main Street, so I steer my own car around it. The town that greets me is the same one I left behind. The buildings are, at least. There are no signs of the usual folks strolling around chitchatting in front of Old Joe’s or playing cards by the sidewalk while having a drink.
    “You are too late. You should’ve taken the faster route back to town,” Father’s voice rings inside my head.
    Fearing the worst, I park the truck behind the pizzeria, inside Old Joe’s open garage. He still kept the keys below a trashcan. With my bad shoulder and arm, I can’t walk around carrying heavy bags of weapons and ammunition, so I get out of the truck only with a SIG Sauer hidden in my back, below my T-shirt, and an AK-47 over my left shoulder. The assault rifle model has been used for close combat for years now and is the favorite weapon of guerrillas and warlords, because it’s relative cheap and durable.
    Not my choice of weapon, but we need to speak the same language. These idiots have to see I’m not joking around.
    Now, if I were an invading small army, where would I be right now? Holding hostages in an easy controllable place, while a few others raided the town for supplies. My best bet is the school. The basketball court, maybe, since it provides a way to intimidate people: take one from the crowd and shoot the person where everyone can see.
    I approach the school by the back, climbing the fire escape stairs to the roof and surveying the building surroundings on higher ground. No patrols, no snipers perched on roofs. Sloppy. Maybe this is going to be easier than I thought.
    The basketball court has a glass ceiling window that I use to peek inside