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He nodded, his expression conflicted. “Look, I... I don’t agree with everything Alan’s saying, but he’s right that we need to be careful.”
Pierce’s eyes narrowed, his hands moving in sharp, precise gestures.
Rhiannon translated, keeping her voice low. “What exactly do you think is going on, Will?”
Will ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. “I don’t know, man. The earthquake, the story about you causing it. It’s all freaking me out.”
Rhiannon felt a chill run down her spine. She hugged Michael closer, feeling his small body trembling against hers. “Will, we’re all scared and confused. But turning on each other isn’t going to help anyone.”
“I know that,” Will snapped, then immediately looked contrite. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just... this whole situation is insane. I don’t know what to believe anymore. It’s just... Alan’s been saying some pretty convincing stuff.”
Rhiannon felt a surge of anger. “Convincing? He’s trying to turn everyone against Pierce based on nothing but speculation and fear.”
“Is it really nothing, though?” Will’s voice dropped to a whisper.
Pierce growled and signed rapidly, and Rhiannon hesitated before translating. He stared at her, silently telling her to repeat what he said.
She sighed. “He says, ‘If I wanted to hurt anyone, I’ve had plenty of opportunities. Think about it, Will. Use your head, not your fear.’”
Will flinched.
“We do understand,” she added to soften Pierce’s bluntness. “We’re all under a lot of pressure. But we need to stand together, and our priority is only to get everyone out of here safely. Especially the most vulnerable, like Michael.”
Will’s gaze dropped to the sick boy, and his face flushed with something that looked a lot like shame.
“Yeah, of course. The kid doesn’t look good.”
“He’s not,” Rhiannon said, pressing her lips to Michael’s forehead. “His fever’s getting worse. We need to get him to a hospital.”
Will nodded slowly, his shoulders sagging as he glanced toward the others. “Listen, maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, but even if you find a way out, Alan’s not going to let you leave without a fight. He’s planning something.”
Pierce met her gaze, and in his eyes, she saw worry. She looked at Will. “We have to try.”
chapter
fifteen
Pierce and Garethworked in the hallway, removing debris for hours. All the while, Alan continued to proselytize like a fire-and-brimstone preacher, each word feeding into the mounting hysteria. As the day faded into night, his followers’ angry voices rose over the ever-present static of the radio. They stood on opposite sides of the room now—Alan and his wife, Lori, flanked by others, while Gareth, Dottie, Brooke, and Hailey remained with Rhiannon and Pierce. Will still seemed torn between the two factions, though the more Alan spoke, the more time he spent on that side. The air was thick with unspoken accusations, fear mixing with the choking dust that lingered from the aftershock. Rhiannon tried to shield Michael from it all, but his fever had spiked, and he lay delirious against her shoulder.
Alan’s voice cut through the suffocating tension, sharp and biting. “Are we going listen tohimany longer? No! Look at what’s happened since we’ve been following his lead. We’re worse off than before. This is all part of his plan. First Dean, and who’s next? Our kids?”
“Christ on a crutch,” Dottie grumbled. “Does he ever shut up?” She pushed herself to her feet. “I’ll take our boys some water. They need a break anyway.”
Rhiannon tried to ignore Alan, but every word he hurled at Pierce was like a knife to her heart. It pained her to see him under attack while he was fighting so hard to save them all.
This wasn’t sustainable.
They couldn’t survive like this—divided, paranoid, on edge. And if they stayed much longer, without a clear plan or leadership, someone else was going to get hurt—or worse.
Pierce and Gareth emerged from the hallway coated in sweat and dirt. He accepted the bottle of water Dottie handed him, gulping half of it down before dumping some in his hand and splashing it over his face. He looked exhausted as he crossed the room to sink down the wall opposite her. He leaned back, eyes closed, and let out a long, weary sigh.
She didn’t have to be a trauma counselor like her brother to know guilt ate at him. She could see it in the rigid set of his shoulders, the way his jaw remained tight even as he tried to relax.
Raszta got up from where he lay next to Michael and padded over to his person. He bumped his snoot under Pierce’s palm, and a small smile crooked those hard lips before Pierce opened his eyes and looked at his dog.
Razzy licked his hand, then plopped down, stretching out on his side. His tail thunked the floor, but when Pierce didn’t move, he lifted his head to stare at him expectantly.
Rhiannon snorted a laugh. “What does he want?”
