Free Exiled Omnibus by James Hunt

the desert on foot. This fuel will give us a chance to at least get to Texas. Once we’re there we’ll have better fuel options.”
     
    “What about Phoenix?”
     
    “It's not safe there.”

“But the helicopte—”
     
    “John, drop it.”
    John spun around, and the cruiser bounced as he climbed back inside. Brent walked around as Brooke pulled the last gallon of water for the trade out and set it on the asphalt.
     
    “Fuel's good to go,” he said, looking from Brooke to John.
     
    “I'll help you carry these back,” Brooke said.
     
    John glared at the two of them through the windshield. Brooke hadn't seen him this mad since before they left San Diego. She didn't know what was bothering him.
     
    “How old is he?” Brent asked.
     
    “Fourteen. He just started high school.”
     
    “It's a tough age. I remember butting heads with my folks back then.”
     
    “Do you have kids?”
     
    “One. She's six.”
     
    “Well, it starts to go downhill around twelve or thirteen.”
     
    “Let me know when it’s over.”
     
    Brooke took in his smile. The dirt and grime smeared across his face masked the kindness in his eyes. For a split second, she thought maybe it would have been better to stay in San Diego. Not everyone was a looter. But the moment passed. In the end, she knew people would do whatever they had to do to survive. It was only just a matter of time.
     
    The residents of the office building came out to form an assembly line, passing the supplies to their storage spots inside. Brooke noticed a woman her age walk up to Brent and kiss his cheek. Behind her legs stood a gangly-armed little girl.
     
    “Is this your daughter?” Brooke asked.
     
    “It is,” Brent said, lifting her up into his arms. “This is Kara.”
     
    Kara buried her face into Brent’s shoulder, hiding herself. Brooke smiled.
     
    “I have a little girl just a little bit older than her,” Brooke said.
     
    “Brooke, this is my wife, Linda,” Brent said.
     
    “Nice to meet you,” Linda replied.
     
    “You, too.”
     
    Once the supplies were dispersed, Brent handed Kara back over to Linda. He walked over to Brooke and the two shook hands.
     
    “Pleasure doing busines—”
     
    Brent's eyes were fixated on something behind Brooke. She spun around, and the sight of her cruiser kicking up dust and speeding right toward them met her eyes. John was behind the wheel, blaring the horn. A herd of cars was hot on his tail. Just before he reached the front of the building, he slammed on the brakes, sending the cruiser skidding right to the office building’s entrance.
     
    Brooke rushed to the car doors. She helped John grab Emily out of the back seat. She shielded the two of them as gunshots were fired from the caravan of cars that John was running from.
     
    “Everyone inside, now!” Brent yelled.
     
    Brent and a few of his men fired back, offering cover fire for those still outside. The bullets ricocheted off the building, sending puffs of smoke and concrete dust into the air. Once inside, everyone rushed to the back.
     
    Brooke placed a screaming Emily in a small room with Linda and Kara. John still had the revolver in his hand and was eyeing the front of the building, where Brent and his men were fending off the attackers. Brooke snatched the pistol before he could argue.
     
    “Stay here and do not move until I come back. Do you understand?” Brooke asked.
    Brooke kept low as she rushed to the front. Windows were shattered as bullets peppered the front of the building. She saw Brent crouched by one of the windows to the left, reloading his rifle. Brooke poked her head around the corner to get a better look.
     
    “Gangs?” Brooke asked.
     
    “Mexicans,” Brent said. “They've plagued our area for a while now. They've never moved this far north, though.”
     
    With the Southwest no longer part of the United States, there wasn't any fear of repercussions from the American government to those who wanted to