Isolation by Jones, Nathan (the first e reader .TXT) 📗

distance. With a sigh she leaned her head against Hal's chest, inviting him to put his arms around her, which he did. “It looks like we were right to postpone our wedding,” she murmured.

✽✽✽

Nick shaded his eyes and stared into the distance, grimly confirming what he'd seen: another wispy column of black smoke rising into the sky, joining the half dozen or so others visible west of town.

Jay's response to the arson in Wensbrook had been swift and predictable, going around setting fire to every single house or other building within fifteen minutes of Stanberry. Including, from the reports of scouts northeast of town, the McCleese farm.

With a sigh he dropped his hand and glanced over at the two brothers, who were waiting by their truck nearby. He felt bad for them, but at the same time a creeping suspicion had planted itself last night, when Aimee had intercepted him as he was preparing to head to bed to ask if he'd seen Chet.

A suspicion that had only grown when he saw how they'd reacted to news of this newest attack on their house. Instead of the flash of incandescent rage Nick had been expecting, instead the brothers had looked sullen and almost guilty.

As if for some reason they thought they shared some blame for infuriated Wensbrook survivors burning their house down, maybe?

Well, he felt enough rage for all three of them, although not completely on their behalf; after everything he'd said yesterday about not escalating this conflict, was it possible they'd gone and done this anyway?

Chet glanced his way, saw him staring, and looked back impassively. Was he innocent and afraid Nick would accuse him? Guilty and ready to lash out if challenged on what he'd done? Planning to feign innocence?

What if the brothers had started those fires in Wensbrook? What was Nick going to do about it? Chet and Ben were already on thin ice with the Mayor after losing their cool and going after the Drydens, but this was something else entirely.

Burning down half a town? Even if they could argue they'd done it for strategic reasons as part of this conflict with Jay and his thugs, they hadn't told anyone what they planned. Hadn't gotten approval to take such drastic measures.

Assuming they were actually guilty of this, and he wasn't passing judgment on a blind suspicion.

Chet opened his mouth and Nick tensed, wondering what he was about to say. But the young man just jerked his head towards something over Nick's shoulder. “I just saw the curtains move in the Norson house.”

All thoughts of arson in Wensbrook fled and Nick spun around, gripping his gun as he peered at the house a hundred or so yards away.

He was especially protective of the Norsons' place, and for more reason than because Bruce and Winn had taken him and his family in when they were desperate and had nowhere else to go, or because Gen was living there and they were dating at a distance at the moment.

All other considerations aside, it was where the caches were that the entire Norson group, including his and Hal's families and his scavengers, needed to survive this crisis over the next few months.

Nick didn't see any sign of movement in any of the windows now, but even so he motioned to his patrol. “Come on, let's check it out.”

They all followed without questioning; the Zolos survivors with him who weren't part of the Norson group didn't know about the caches, but they did know the relationship Nick and his people had with the Norsons.

The modest house was outside the barricades Stanberry had set up outside their town, and so vulnerable. But it and the other houses on this street were also close enough that Jay would have trouble messing with them without coming under fire from Darrel's people in the barricades.

Which was why they weren't currently on fire.

Nick stopped a safe distance from the front door, wanting to keep the house Zolos free so Gen and and her son and the Norsons could return when this trouble with Jay was over. Assuming the bald psycho's thugs weren't currently in there trashing the place and contaminating everything.

“Whoever's inside, come out now!” he called firmly, rifle held at the ready. Behind him he noticed Chet and Ben and the rest of his patrol seeking cover, weapons also aimed at the house; probably a sensible precaution that he should be taking himself.

Before he could the door opened slightly. To his vast relief he saw Gen peeking through the crack. “Nick?” she asked uncertainly.

“Gen!” he called back with a genuine smile, hastily slinging his gun over his shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

“It's been three weeks since you closed off the stash in the basement for its quarantine period,” she replied, edging outside with a cautious look around, as if expecting Wensbrook attackers to suddenly swoop in and start shooting at them. “We figured we should get it moved into Stanberry before Jay worked up the nerve to loot this place and take it all.”

Nick was glad they had, because he'd barely given the cache a second thought since locking it away for its 21 days until they could be sure it was safe. “Good.” He gave her a rueful smile and motioned to his patrol, who were emerging from hiding to join him. “I wish we could lend you a hand.”

She smiled back wanly, and he was struck by the marked change in her since she and her son had moved into town for protection against Jay; she'd visibly lost weight and was pale and drawn, obviously exhausted from fear and stress.

It physically pained Nick to see signs of her suffering. He wished he could go to her, hold her tight and give her some comfort, some reassurance. Tell her that things would work out okay and they'd make it through this.

But at the same time it lifted his heart to see how her smile turned more genuine after a moment. “I wish