Deserted - Cara Dee Page 0,89

tough love—he adapted the approach to the person who needed him.

After a couple minutes of deep breaths and Darius’s soft touches, Gray felt better.

And so tired.

“We need to get some dinner and a good night’s sleep, but first, I gotta grab something.” Darius made a move to stand, so Gray left his lap and brushed some dried mud off his hands. “You wanna come with?”

“Sure.”

Darius took the lead to the back of the cabin—or not. He kept going, toward the toolshed. He opened the door and went straight to a hatch in the floor that Gray hadn’t noticed before.

“Don’t tell me you have a bunker,” Gray blurted out.

“No, I hit rock in every direction when I tried to expand, but that’s okay.”

Gray scratched his head and peered down at the hole Darius climbed into. It wasn’t a bunker, he guessed. It was a very small cellar, maybe a hundred square feet at the most. Walls and floor seemed to be made out of concrete, including the island of sorts in the middle. Admittedly curious, Gray climbed down the stepladder too, and his feet hit the ground just as rows upon rows of spotlights came on.

“Whoa.” Gray stared. He was surrounded by shelves, and not a single one was empty. Though, this time, it wasn’t flour and canned goods. One wall was reserved for knives and guns in different shapes and sizes. Another wall had tents, sleeping bags, camping mats, lanterns, rope, and backpacks. Everything came in the colors of nature. Army green, desert sand, snow white, and brown. There were four metal boxes on one shelf, all labeled with the same three letters. “What does MRE mean?”

“Meal, ready-to-eat.” Darius grabbed two backpacks off a shelf and placed them on the concrete island in the middle. Which turned out not to be only concrete. It was just the top. The whole thing was a safe. “Ammo,” he explained. “We’re not bringing any. I’ll grab one of my everyday carrys from the cabin, but that’s just as a precaution.”

That made sense. Bullets were leads for the authorities. Plus, easier to rule out suicide if a gunshot hit the wrong angle by a millimeter.

Gray picked up the most insane knowledge from Darius.

If he’d known about this, that this was how his life would turn out, before last fall…?

Jesus Christ.

“Are you freaked out?” Darius side-eyed him with a slight twist of his mouth.

“Not as much as I should be,” Gray joked. “I don’t know. I guess, if you have a bunch of canned goods to protect, you gotta be able to defend it with something.”

Darius laughed through his nose and went to grab two sleeping bags. “The principle’s legit, but almost everything down here is from my years in the field.” He nodded toward the shelves with knives. “Go pick two. You need a combat knife and a folder.”

It was mildly intimidating. They’d only practiced with dull training knives so far. “I’m gonna need your help. You don’t want me to end up with a knife meant to fillet fish.”

Darius chuckled and walked over. “These are all tactical.” He gestured at one section, then nodded at another. “With the folding knives, you’re gonna want one you think is easy to open and close. Just—have at it. Try ’em out.”

Try ’em out.

Sure thing.

Gray wasn’t completely useless about all this anymore, but shit had just gotten real. It wasn’t for practice this time.

Meanwhile, Darius went back to packing their bags. Gray kept him in the corner of his eye and saw everything from rope and flashlights to meal bars and multitools. Darius managed to pack a crapload of stuff into bags that weren’t very big. They were smaller than regular packs for camping, but larger than daypacks.

“Where are we stopping to rent ATVs?” Gray asked, studying one of the knives.

“We’re not. I have one. We’ll load it onto the truck before we go,” Darius replied. “It’s big enough for both of us.”

Gray turned to him. “What about Jackie?”

“It depends on the shape he’s in,” he replied, frowning to himself. He was still working on the details, Gray could tell. More than one thing depended on Jackie. “The absolute best-case scenario is if we get in there, free him, arrange Warren’s suicide, then leave. And Jackie will wait half a day before calling the cops, saying he’s managed to escape. At which point, we’re halfway home already.”

Sounded more like too good to be true… “How many of those scenarios have you been through?”

Darius blew out a breath