AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m going to get a bacon burger. You ever have a bacon burger?”
“Probably.”
“Nothing like bacon and beef in the same sandwich. That’s heaven squared right there.”
“Got something.”
Instantly, Michael’s demeanor turned serious. “What is it?”
“This guy. Ralph Malden. His house was destroyed by the tornado. He survived. His wife and children didn’t.”
“Why does that make him a suspect, though?” Michael asked.
“Well, listen to this. He tells Franco that it pisses him off that because he couldn’t afford a storm shelter and some rich assholes could that his family had to die. Why did their families deserve to live and his didn’t, etc. And when he learned that one of the survivors hid in a grain silo, he swore a lot and then ended the interview.”
“Got it,” Michael said. “So where does Ralph Malden live?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Daniel French spotted the silo the day before but waited until he confirmed that it was abandoned before going in. He didn’t mind ripping people off, but you needed to be a lot more careful if you went for property that was still attached to someone, especially out here in the boonies. Everyone had a gun, and no one was shy to use them.
Of course, most abandoned buildings had far less of value in them than active buildings, so every now and then, he would have to invade occupied property, but he had made a decent score the week before from that old guy just north of the city. If he could find something useful at the silo, he would take it. If not, oh well.
He hummed a tune as he carried his crowbar to the door. It looked rusted to hell, still solid but almost impossible to move. Well, if he couldn’t get it open, he would move on. There was no point in wasting too much time.
He jimmied his crowbar into the narrow gap between the door and the building. The corrugated steel of the silo was rusted and starting to pit, useless to him, but maybe he would get lucky and find some leftover copper wire inside.
He pressed his weight into the crowbar, and the metal groaned but didn't budge. He paused a moment, then pressed harder, grunting with the effort. Nothing.
He took a deep breath, and on the exhale, he shoved hard. The door squealed, then scraped, then started to move.
“Hell yeah,” he said with a grin. “Now we’re in business.”
An arm flopped out of the slowly opening door. Daniel flinched backward. “What the hell?” he muttered.
Then a head lolled out with the arm, and Daniel dropped his crowbar and screamed.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Ralph Malden had evidently done well for himself the past ten years. He had a spacious house on several acres of land.
And he had a storm shelter. A sloping concrete structure that looked like an aboveground version of the storm shelter where Patrick Jeter had been found.
“At least he learned his lesson about storm shelters,” Michael quipped.
Faith cast him a reproving glare, then got out of the car. “I’m going to take Turk to the storm shelter,” she said. “You go to the house. If you find him, call me on the radio, and I’ll do the same.”
“Oh yes, let’s split up,” Michael said sardonically. “That’s always worked for us before.”
“It has, most of the time,” she reminded him, “and if Malden is our man, I don’t want him getting away. I’m a big girl. I’ll be okay.”
“Forgive me for not being encouraged,” he said drily.
They split up, and Faith drew her weapon, holding it low as she approached the building. The structure had seemed fairly modest in size from the street, but as she drew closer, it seemed to loom over her like a gothic castle from a fairy tale. She shivered though the evening was warm, and Turk stayed close as she reached the door. She slid it cautiously to the side and was surprised when it moved easily.
The interior was lit well with fluorescent lighting. Faith could hear the hum of a generator coming from deeper inside the shelter. A door to Faith’s left was open, revealing shelves stacked high with canned food and water bottles. This shelter was definitely not abandoned.
She heard rustling inside the storage room and stepped closer.
