Dear Lord. No.

Her knees turned to water, and she grabbed the adjacent shelf for balance, abruptly understanding there had never been a shipment to pick up in Portland.

Chad had been eliminated.

Probably as an assignment for Jason. Eden’s father, Pete’s most recently branded and fervent follower.

Mercy took deep breaths as another thought blasted into her brain.

Is my cover blown?

TWENTY

Mercy couldn’t think straight after seeing the clothing.

As she blindly walked across the compound, her throat tightened, Chad’s kind face flashing in her mind. She hoped she had jumped to conclusions when she saw his clothing in Beckett’s supplies.

If Chad had been eliminated, wouldn’t Pete have immediately taken her for questioning? If Chad’s cover had been blown, it was logical his girlfriend would be suspected.

But no one had approached her. Pete had talked calmly to her at breakfast, acting as if nothing had happened. The men she’d overheard yesterday hadn’t mentioned having a traitor in their midst. Wouldn’t that fact be passed around?

Unless everyone knew, and they were all biding their time to see if she gave herself away.

Mercy wanted to pull out her hair. Her brain was in high paranoia mode.

Did I overreact?

Chad could be doing exactly what Pete said. Sitting in a hotel, waiting for word on a shipment. Maybe people were expected to occasionally trade out their clothing to keep things more equal.

Rags for everyone.

Maybe she’d been mistaken about the clothes. Maybe it just looked like Chad’s clothing.

Maybe.

Maybe.

There was nothing she could do about it now.

A sense of a clock ticking down propelled her to do something—anything—to find more information on the big plan for tomorrow. It was time to act, not sit idle and stress.

Mercy had sent Eden back to Sadie’s, not wanting the girl around because she had decided to take another look at the new garage. If the trucks were being packed up tonight for the plan tomorrow, that meant their supplies were somewhere on the compound. And the new structure was the only place Chad said he hadn’t searched.

If someone asked what she was doing, she’d say she was just looking at the trucks, wondering when Chad would be back. It was a weak excuse, but she couldn’t think of another, and right now she didn’t care. Something big was about to happen, and she had to figure out a way to stop it.

She debated tinkering with the vehicles and discarded the idea. What went on under the hood of a truck was foreign to her. She knew where to add oil but nothing else. Her brothers had been the ones to learn about engines; she and her sisters had learned how to cook.

It’d always been a weak point in her preparations. Knowing how to keep a vehicle running would be extremely important if she was suddenly alone, mechanics gone, internet gone. The topic had kept getting pushed to the bottom of her preparation list. Maybe deep down, she’d hoped her father or brother would be with her.

Bullshit.

She’d always expected to be on her own.

Like now.

She followed a broken path toward the old carport and new garage, her boots crunching in the snow. Stopping behind a tree before she crossed the clearing, she watched and waited for a long moment.

It was silent. She didn’t see anyone near the carport or working on construction. No tire tracks led away from the buildings. The snow had already filled in Sean’s tracks from last night’s return. The vehicle Chad and Jason had driven to Portland was still gone.

Holding her breath, she moved out from behind the tree.

Tension boiled in her veins as she reached the garage. The scent of fresh-cut lumber met her, its soothing odor clashing with the anxiety bouncing in her head.

“Hello? Anyone here?” she called out, injecting a cheeriness she didn’t feel into her voice.

No answer.

She passed by the new roll-up doors, headed for a regular door she’d seen on the south side of the building. An open padlock hung on a hook by the door, giving her hope. The only other locks she’d seen in camp were on the supply depot and command center. She turned the knob. It swung open, and she pumped a fist.

“Hello?” she called, embarrassed at the way her voice cracked.

No answer.

She took two steps into the dim interior and called again, letting her eyes adjust. Two large utility vans that had seen better days were parked inside. She moved back out and gazed at the aging carport, remembering that she’d previously seen the vans parked under the structure. Now there were only two four-wheel-drive trucks. Stealing a vehicle crossed her mind for the thousandth time, but the only way to drive out of the compound was through the front gate, which was monitored 24-7.

Gazing to the east, she remembered that Chad had said the compound was bordered by a steep ravine. He’d said it was difficult to cross. She would get nowhere taking a vehicle that way.

She could go on foot. Looking up at the gray clouds still dropping snow, she weighed the option. She knew how to survive in the woods and could find her way north toward Ukiah. But she preferred to do it with some supplies. Not just a pair of boots and a jacket. Her fingers ached to hold her Leatherman and a compass. Without her usual equipment and provisions she felt naked and didn’t dare venture into the unknown.

Her best bet was to sabotage Pete’s plan from inside.

Somehow.

She checked for people again and saw no one. Now was as good a time as any.

Making her decision, she entered the big garage again and saw there was easily room for three more vehicles beyond the vans. Empty shelving lined half of the back wall, and four storage rooms filled the rest. She silently jogged past the shelves to check the rooms. The first door was locked. She yanked on the handle, noting the heavy-duty padlocks and solid construction. Whatever was inside, they had put extra effort into keeping it safe. She moved to the second and third. Both locked. The fourth door opened.

Empty. It wasn’t large. Maybe four feet wide and six feet deep. No shelving. She swore and examined the sturdy doorframe, wondering what was being kept from prying eyes in the first three rooms.

Frustrated, she moved to the side of one of the utility vans. It had windows only on the driver and front passenger doors. Cupping her hands on the passenger window, she peered inside. The seats were ripped, and wires hung out where a radio had once existed. She wondered if Pete had removed it on purpose, keeping his people in the dark as usual. She tried the door. It opened, and she crawled onto the passenger seat to look in the back. It was empty except for a stack of padded blankets such as movers use to protect furniture.

She moved to the next van. That one’s seats were in better condition, but again no radio. The vehicle also wasn’t locked. Opening it, she knelt on the seat and peered into the rear of the van. Two plastic bins sat behind the driver’s seat, each filled with elongated plastic-wrapped bricks.

“Looking for something?” A hand grabbed her upper arm and yanked her backward out of the van, and her arms flew out as she scrambled to keep her balance and land on her feet. Shock coursed through her, and she lost her breath.

Instinct took over. She planted her legs and thrust her other elbow back at his nose. It connected with bone, sending waves of pain down to her fingers, but it’d nailed his jaw. She glanced back as he shook off the impact, and he tightened his grip on her right arm.

Sean.

She flung her elbow back again and hit his nose, making his eyes instantly water, and he let go of her arm. She turned and aimed a knee for his crotch, but he shifted, and she struck his thigh.

A blow to her nose made her drop to her knees. Agony erupted in her head, and she fought to open her eyes as burning tears streamed and mixed with the blood flowing from the injury. Blinded, she heard him circle behind her, and a boot to her back knocked her to the ground.

She was facedown, his knee on her spine, and then he wrestled her arms behind her back, ripping off her gloves. The clicks of handcuffs shocked her. “You carry cuffs?” she said, spitting the blood that had drained into her mouth.

“Always,” he grunted. He hauled her up by one arm, and she felt as if it would tear out of the socket. Spinning her around to face him, he eyed the blood on her face with distaste. “Shit.” Keeping eye contact, he picked up her gloves and used them to wipe off the blood.

Stars exploded in her vision when he touched her nose, and she reared her head back, the pain making her thighs shake.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“Sorry”? Seriously?

“Was that necessary?” she asked. A metallic flavor covered her tongue, and blood flowed down the back of her throat.

“I believe you started it,” he answered, intent on getting rid of the blood on her face.

“No, you fucking started it. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to grab a woman? Especially from behind?” Anger pulsed through her muscles.

“Pete wants to see you.”