Still, no sign of anyone.
Charity was sure they would come during the day. Driving at night was more dangerous, especially on the back roads when the van’s headlights would announce their position to anyone in the vicinity.
They read and ate lunch. None of Charity’s pacing to the computer cameras yielded any information. They ate dinner and played games until the lights began dimming and it became apparent her parents wouldn’t come tonight.
“Maybe they got a flat tire,” Enzo said because her worry was almost palpable. “Or maybe they got busy with something else and will come tomorrow.”
She pushed her chair from the table and checked the cameras yet again. “The vision was clear on the timeframe. Wouldn’t it have told them beforehand if they’d needed to change a tire to get here on time?”
As if he knew how the visions worked. “What exactly did the vision say?”
“The vision showed my parents in the van and my mother said, “We’re dropping off the newlyweds at the cabin for two weeks.”
Enzo almost didn’t want to point out the obvious. “The vision said we should stay here for that amount of time, but it never said your parents would pick us up again. I’m sure they wanted to, but did your father also have a vision that said he’d be able to pick us up?”
“No,” she said slowly. “I suppose not. But why would the vision say two weeks if they were picking us up at a different time?”
He shrugged. “None of it makes sense to me. I’m still surprised we were actually safe here for two weeks.”
She turned away from the security screens, crossed her arms, and leaned on the counter. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what comes next.”
That pretty much summed up life for most of humanity. “We’ve got enough food. We could set out on our own.”
She shook her head. “How would I ever find my family again? They must want me to wait for them, or they would’ve given me different instructions. They’ll come for me.” She bit her bottom lip. “You only promised to stay here for two weeks. If you want to go, I’ll understand.”
He stared at her, surprised. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been. He’d never really been her captive. She’d only insisted he stay because the vision said he should. Still, he found himself saying, “You don’t want me to stay with you?”
“You’re worried my family will kill you. What if I’m wrong and you’re right? They can’t get mad at me for letting you go. The two weeks is over.”
He nodded. It was decided then. “I’ll leave tomorrow at daybreak. What provisions are you willing to part with?”
A smile tugged at her lips. “This time, you’re asking? We can split up the food. I’ll give you my father’s Ruger too.”
He raised his eyebrows. All of this time, she had a gun?
“Before I give it to you,” she said, “you have to promise not to use it on anyone in my family. If you meet them driving up the road, you can’t threaten or shoot them or their vehicle.”
“I’ll wish them luck on their escape.” Oddly enough, he meant it. Which might mean he’d gotten Stockholm Syndrome after all.
“I’ll get the rest of the cans from under my parents’ bed and divide them up.” She disappeared down the hallway.
He went to the cupboards and checked the stash there. “What will you do if you eat all the food here, and they still haven’t come for you? You’ll have to set out on your own without food or a weapon.” He hated to think of her slowly starving up here. “I’ll just take a quarter of the food,” he called to her. “I can get by on that.” He’d read the survival guide in the bunker’sbookshelf enough times that he’d be able to locate some edible plants.
She didn’t answer. He opened a kitchen cupboard and began filling water bottles.
A startled scream sounded from the master bedroom. Enzo dropped the water bottle and sprinted toward the back room. A snake, he told himself. Some animal had probably come inside.
He opened the door and found her kneeling in front of the box of cans, gripping a piece of paper with shaking hands.
“What is it?” he asked.
She looked at him, tears already glistening in her eyes. She held out the paper, a handwritten letter.
Charity,
We didn’t want to tell you before because we knew you’d worry, or worse, leave the cabin early. Your father has seen that we can’t come back to pick you up after two weeks. Don’t stay at the cabin. You need to go with Enzo. He’ll keep you safe. There’s a map in the bottom of the box.
Also, your father says to memorize the number 991633137