Page 103 of Fallen Creed

“Then make sure she does. You know how to do that.”

—83—

From the trees about half a mile away, Libby scanned the roads leading to the Spencers’ property with her binoculars. There was rarely traffic, so a passing vehicle would stand out. When she saw the electric company’s van in front of the house, she immediately felt a wave of relief. They could use the distraction to sneak in and out.

Finally, a break. She was still frustrated. It was already mid-morning, and they had left the trailer just as the sun was coming up. Drifts of snow and broken branches made her regular path an obstacle course. It didn’t help matters that Ariel kept droning on about leaving the dog and handler behind without tying them up or locking them in.

“We could brace the door and burn the whole place down,” Ariel had suggested.

Libby had stopped in her tracks to stare at her. “People would see the flames. The tank would explode.”

“That would be so cool. No way he could survive.”

“Did you hear me say that people would see the flames? They would send the fire department and cops.”

“Oh yeah. But we’d be gone by then.”

Libby had simply shaken her head and went back to high-stepping over the snow-covered debris. She tried to ignore Ariel muttering behind her about how they could have at least tied the guy up.

Fact was, Libby hated thinking about Ryder and his dog, Grace. They didn’t deserve any of this. They were only trying to help. The guy didn’t look good this morning. He’d been mumbling in his sleep, his body twitching and sweat dripping off his forehead. The little dog appeared inconsolable as she lay by his side. Every once in a while, she’d get up and sniff him especially under his nose as if checking for his breath.

Once when Ariel was outside, Libby thought she heard the dog crying. She looked up to find Grace staring at her. Something unexpected tugged at her, and she found herself trying to explain to the little dog, even saying out loud, “I didn’t ask for either of you to come find me.”

It was too late to do anything for him. Maybe the dog understood that part, because she cuddled back down closer to him, almost on top of him. He didn’t move. Didn’t shift or stir.

When they were on the road, Libby would call and tell someone. But she knew it was an empty offer. The guy might be dead by then.

Kill or be killed. Survival of the fittest.

She hated that Ruben’s mantra still droned in her head.

Time was slipping away even before the delay at the shed. And the delay was made longer by Ariel, who refused to leave the SUV. It was like talking a scared cat out of a tree. How did Ariel not see that running out of gas on a country road in the middle of the wide-open prairie would reduce them to sitting ducks?

Not for the first time, Libby wondered just how old Ariel really was. Sometimes she acted like a stubborn fifteen-year-old. Every teenager wanted to be older. They all fudged their ages, but Ariel had presented herself as older and more competent. She had the SUV. All the drugs. Everything implied she knew her way around.

Yet, whenever Libby caught a glimpse of Ariel’s vulnerability, she suspected they were about the same age. The months had matured Libby beyond her eighteen years. But Ariel?

It didn’t matter. They were both in the same boat now. They had a shared experience that changed them forever. The shared experience of David Ruben. And he would certainly kill them both if he caught them. They were stronger together.

At least that’s what Libby kept telling herself until she had to talk Ariel out of the SUV. Of course, she could have left Ariel and went to collect the gasoline on her own, but she didn’t trust that Ariel wouldn’t drive off without her, only to get stranded and blow the one chance Libby had to escape. Besides, they needed more than one container of gasoline. If they were in this together, Ariel needed to get her act together and help.

Now, as Libby struggled with the old barn door, Ariel still didn’t help. Libby put her shoulder to it and pulled with her whole body, hoping the rusted hinges didn’t squeak. She opened it just enough for the two of them to squeeze through. Only then did she notice Ariel had the gun in her hand. She stopped from saying anything. She wouldn’t risk the sound of their voices traveling in the cold air.

The scent of hay always amazed her. The Spencers hadn’t had animals inside this old barn for years, and yet, the place still held those smells as if they were woven into the wooden walls and the dirt floor.

She could see through to the breezeway and noticed the black SUV parked there. The dog handler’s. She’d seen him getting out of it how many evenings ago?

Her car was parked in the shed across the property. She was so stupid. If she had simply taken it, she could be hundreds of miles away. That’s what caring about people got you. She didn’t want to steal from Nora and look where it got her. Right back here, stealing containers of gasoline.

“The containers are back here,” she whispered to Ariel as she circled around into one of the empty stables. “If we can grab three, that should be enough.”

When she didn’t respond, Libby turned to look over her shoulder. Ariel was staring at something outside the stable, but she held the gun down at her side.

“What is it?” Libby hissed. Her pulse kicked up. Her palms were sweaty as she grabbed the handles of the containers. She realized they were heavier than she expected. It wouldn’t be easy to run with them.

Ariel hadn’t moved.

Footsteps.