Concealed in the Shadows (Book #1)

Chapter Eighteen

Several sturdy men stand armed outside of an extended van. Like us, they are dressed in mismatched hunting camouflage. Behind the men stands a concrete canopy with gasoline pumps and a stripped store house. I assume this plan B location is the station where Cy 'hit the jackpot' by acquiring loads of gasoline and oil for Sheridan. Today, this place has no glory.

Crewe is already engaged in conversation with one of the men. I take him to be Merick, the leader of Sheridan's militia. Cy files in, hunching over to rest. Evvie and I are only seconds behind. Once we arrive, the enemy of the county will be complete. I have no choice but to hope that I'm wrong. I pull my sister along to catch the end of Crewe's distribution orders.

"Fill them in on everything we know," Crewe orders Cy. "We'll meet you in Sheridan." Crewe tosses the cell phone to Cy, who catches it with one hand and stuffs it into his pocket. "If there's any trouble, you call me right away." I'm aware of the pain in Crewe's heart as he makes the call to part from his brother.

"I know," Cy snaps. He misses the opportunity for a truce with his brother. I wonder if the tension between them goes beyond the intensity of what we've been running from.

Cy leads the handful of men in a continuation of his sprint. A moment passes, and they are gone. I wish he hadn't avoided my eyes as I passed Evvie into his care in the forest. It would be too much to expect that I'll see Cy again but I hope for it anyway. I don't think the world could get along without his smile.

"Where are they going?" I demand, worried for their safety. Merick looks surprised by my nerve to challenge the plan. Maybe it is his plan and not Crewe's. I don't care if my question is perceived as disrespectful to this rough leader. He is nothing but a stranger to me. Why should I trust him? I wasn't asking him anyway. I was asking Crewe, who has become less of a stranger in the day that has passed.

"Get in," Crewe orders. He chooses not to enlighten me on the destination to where the team of soldiers runs. I'm about to protest again when Merick's movement toward the van and Crewe's glare convince me to do as I've been told and leave the rest alone.

I send Evvie in the van before me and glance back at Crewe for assurance that we're going to be okay. His expression softens and apologizes for the glare he probably didn't intend to discharge so harshly.

"Nothing until afterward," he says, pointing to his wrist. Right. No talk of our plan or that of Cy and the others until after Evvie's chip is removed.

"She's all the way in the back," says the grizzly leader in the driver's seat. Evvie's makeshift hospital bed is a folded-down bench seat. The rest of the van has been gutted and the seats reworked to fold down, like old theater seats did, from the side opposite the large sliding door.

I fold down the only seat adjacent to the sliding door, but Merick in the driver seat tells me that it's reserved for Della. Right, she'll need to be closer to Evvie than I will. I shuffle over to the other side and pull down a seat one away from where my sister sits. Following my lead, Evvie stands and begins to fuss with the lever that will raise the backing of the bench seat to its upright position.

"No. Leave it," I tell her. "Be brave, Ev." I know that's all I can say to her with our assailants listening.

Crewe helps the wheezing Della into the van. He silently communicates to her that the operation needs to be done in route. Her eyes bulge, but she nods and readies herself with a series of deep breaths.

Crewe whips around to the twin hatch doors at the back of the van to lug in Galvesten and his baggage. Crewe seals up the back from the outside, hustles around, jumps lightly onto the van flooring, and slams the slider closed. He yanks down the last seat between me and another trooper.