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“As you should.” PJ glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. “Chow is in five minutes.”
“Yes, it is.” Bones’ gaze shifted to Mud. “He’s a good kid.”
“I know.” She walked past him in the doorway. “Enjoy your dinner.”
As PJ left the infirmary, recruits and staff ran through the rain toward the chow hall, their booted feet splashing through puddles, heads bent to the torrential downpour.
Instead of heading for the chow hall, PJ detoured to the motor pool, the building with two overhead doors and a regular door on the side. Off to the side of the building was a fenced area where all the vehicles were kept until checked out by one of the leaders like Wiley or Tiberius.
Wiley had been her driver when she’d worked at the tavern in Whitefish. She’d gone with him to the motor pool on several occasions.
The man in charge of the vehicles kept the keys in a locked room. After Wiley signed for the vehicle, the man would unlock the room, go in and come back out with the keys to a truck. Then he’d unlock the gate for Wiley to drive out, securing it behind them.
PJ knocked on the door to the motor pool building. When no one answered, she pulled her file from her knife scabbard and stuck it into the door’s lock. Seconds later, she unlocked the door and stepped inside.
With the storm raging outside, lightning flashing and thunder booming, she doubted anyone would have heard her enter if someone was inside. She stepped through the door.
A flash of lightning illuminated the entrance long enough for her to notice a flashlight hanging on a hook beside her head. She grabbed it and quickly closed the door. “Hello!” she called out.
No one answered in the dark interior.
She switched on the flashlight and shined it around the room that served as an office. Clipboards hung from nails on the wall, and a laptop lay closed on the desktop.
She walked through the office into the bay area, where they performed maintenance on the vehicles. “Hello,” she yelled.
When no one responded, she hurried back into the office to the door behind the desk. As she expected, it was locked.
Using her file again, she worked the lock until it clicked open. Quickly, she entered to find hooks on the wall with a dozen sets of keys.
For a moment, she panicked. Which keys went to which vehicles? Someone escaping wouldn’t have time to try the keys in several trucks to find its match.
Shining the flashlight closer, she noticed handwriting on the wall behind each set of keys that appeared to be license plate numbers. She took the first set of keys, memorized the plate number and hurried through the bay area to the opposite end. She didn’t have much time. They’d be looking for her and Judge when they didn’t show up for dinner.
After turning off the flashlight, she stepped out into the rain. She stopped at the first truck and waited for lightning to flash bright enough for her to read the plate.
It was a match for the set of keys.
She opened the truck door, slid inside and stuck the key into the ignition. At the next boom of thunder, she turned the key. As soon as the engine started, she turned it off. Leaving the key in the ignition, she ran back into the building, locked the key room, hung the flashlight on its nail and cracked the office door open.
Once she was sure the coast was clear, she stepped out into the rain, pulling the office door closed behind her without locking it.
Then she ran through the camp to the barracks. No one else was out in the storm, having already made it to the mess hall. She prayed Judge hadn’t been forced to go to the mess hall.
A flash of lightning preceded an immediate crack of thunder as she dived through the barracks door.
Drenched from head to toe, she shivered with the chill in the air and in anticipation of what was to come. In the dull light from the few bulbs hanging from the ceiling, she searched the long room.
“Judge?” she called out.
“I’m here.” He stepped out from behind her, closing the door to the wind and rain.
“Anyone else…” She looked around for movement.
“Just me,” he said and opened his arms.
She fell into his arms, the urge to cry so strong she was glad for the raindrops on her cheeks. She hadn’t cried since she’d been abducted and brought into The Chosen Way’s fold. From that moment, she’d stopped feeling sorry for herself and started on a path to get stronger. When or if she ever got away from TCW, she would never let anyone dominate her again.
That fierce need for independence took a backseat to her need to feel Judge’s body against hers and his strong arms around her.
