Read Those Who Remain (Book 2) for Free Online Page B

badly.
    “Okay. So it has been twelve hours since they left?”
    She nods. This is bad. They should have come back by now.
    “I’m going after them.” I place the truck’s keys on her hands. “Take the guns and arm these people. Place them all against the front windows, and your best shots should go to the roof with the long-range rifles, to keep watch. Block the back doors too. Put sentries on them. The gym teacher is alive?”
    “Yes, but Lily—”
    “Good, then he must have whistles. Distribute them to each room. At any sign of danger, tell people to blow it and warn the others. Communication is key here.”
    “Lily—”
    “Also, you can arm them with fire extinguishers, hammers, kitchen knives or even scissors. An invader in pain has no focus and can be tackled by a big group with no problem. Remind them to force the guy's gun upwards always, so a possible gunshot doesn’t hit them while they jump at him.”
    Mrs. Terrence places a hand on my right shoulder. My winter coat protects my skin from the contact, but I still flinch instinctively. “Lily, listen to me. All your suggestions are very reasonable, but I’m going with you.”
    “No way—”
    “I’m done waiting. I waited too much in my life. First with Tony, now with Danny. I can’t stand it anymore. Whatever happened, I need to know.”
    I nod. No way I’m capable of saying no to this woman. I spent too much time inside her office to know that she doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. “Okay. Do you have a gun?”
    “Yes. Of course. A shotgun.”
    “Where is it?”
    Her eyes open wide. “Oh no. I forgot to keep it with me, haven’t I? Danny… He won’t be happy.” Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “He said to keep it with me at all times. It must’ve slipped my mind; I had so many things to do….”
    Poor Mrs. Terrence. I never saw her so unfocused. Worrying about her son all night could break even her, I suppose.
    “It’s okay. Just go grab it. We should leave as soon as possible.”
    She nods, jogging to the corridor and disappearing from view. I’m suddenly very aware of the crowd watching me. They must have heard our conversation. A burly man that I vaguely remember as a father of the town’s only pothead stands in front of me. His arms are crossed and he looks at me like I’m nothing but a nuisance.
    Beside him is Linda Fords, with her pointed nose up and familiar condescending smirk. This is the same woman who tried to put my father’s presence in town to a vote. A vote. I had to watch as people raised their hands to decide if we could keep our house. To this day, it still is the most humiliating experience of my whole life. I hate lawyers. I hate her.
    “So your father is dead, then?” She asks, a step behind the man.
    “No.”
    “Then why isn’t he here?”
    “He—”
    “We let him stay. We pretended he wasn’t bat-shit crazy. And this how he repays us?”
    My SIG Sauer is aimed at her in a blink of a second. Angry at Father or not, I can’t stand anyone badmouthing him. She widens her eyes, as the man beside her places himself between us. I clench my teeth.
    “Don’t ever say anything about my father ever again. Hear me?”
    A few months back I could have ignored them, laughed it off at her stupidity. I don’t need to do that anymore. There’s no more stupid social order to follow; no reason to take any more shit from these people.
    “He should be here,” The man says, not afraid of my gun. “He owes us.”
    “He doesn’t owe you nothing. And I’ll shoot you both right here if you don’t leave.” They don’t step away. I place my finger at the trigger. “Now.”
    They mumble, but obey. People whisper, gasp, spreading chatter around me and filling my ears with the usual crap: ‘Crazy’, ‘Horrible’, ‘Fascist’, ‘Violent’, ‘Unstable’, ‘Dangerous’. Well, today I won’t keep my head down and listen to any of that.
    I point my SIG Sauer toward the ceiling. The harsh sound