Chapter 3 - The Target
Thorne didn't attack immediately. He was a predator who preferred to play with his food. He smiled, raising his hands in mock surrender.
"No need for violence, Silas. Just remember who controls the medicine when that little girl starts coughing up flood-water." Thorne turned on his heel and walked away, his thugs trailing behind like loyal dogs.
Elara was trembling. She quickly snapped the locket shut and tucked it deep beneath her shirt. "Why did he want it?" she asked, her voice shaking.
"He doesn't want the locket, Elara. He wants power," Silas explained, sitting back down and keeping a watchful eye on the crowd. "Thorne used to run the local narcotics ring before the storm. Now, he's using the chaos to build an empire. He saw the key inside your necklace."
"What key?"
Silas leaned in close, lowering his voice. "Your father was Arthur Vance, wasn't he? The chief civil engineer for the county."
Elara nodded. Her father had been a quiet, brilliant man who spent his nights drafting blueprints and talking about 'fail-safes' and 'storm-proofing.'
"Before the flood hit, there were rumors," Silas whispered. "Rumors that your dad built a fallout vault deep in the bedrock of Miller's Peak. A place stocked with enough food, medicine, and communications gear to outlast the end of the world. Thorne wants that vault. And you just showed him the key."
May you like
Panic seized Elara’s chest. The locket suddenly felt like a branding iron against her skin. "We have to give it to him. I don't want to die, Silas."
"If you give it to him, he kills us anyway to keep it a secret," Silas said grimly, pulling a heavy hunting knife from his boot and strapping it to his belt. "Rest up, little bird. As soon as the sun drops, we are getting the hell out of this camp."
