Bloody Sunset Gwendolyn Harper (life changing books txt) 📖

Caitlin nodded. “Nicole said they’d be antisocial. Maybe good at hiding their rage, but they’d definitely find ways to lash out—like the Geek attack. They’d feel… entitled. Angry that they’re not getting what they want or what they think they’re owed. Probably wouldn’t have many friends…” She glanced around at the group. “We could start brainstorming a list of people who fit that broad description and then narrow it down.”

“How?” Trish asked, tone still sharp. “Follow everyone around like they’re criminals?”

“Look for evidence,” Caitlin countered. “Talk to people on their work details and then have a conversation with them. If we feel like they’re shady, we can grill them harder.”

Trish stood up from the table, pacing the short length of the room. “I don’t like this ‘we’ you’re tossing around.”

She’d never gotten angry with the woman, but Caitlin was nearing her limit.

“Fine, someone else who you think is fit can do all this. But what Booker and I saw wasn’t some one-off thing. The person who gutted those animals to lure Geeks to us is only going to escalate and then we’re all going to be wishing we’d done something sooner.”

Steve leaned back, catching Trish’s eye. “Just hear her out, Trish,” he murmured.

The atmosphere in the lounge was like a balloon about to pop.

But instead, it deflated as Trish exhaled slowly.

“We are so over our heads,” she muttered, gaze dropping to the floor. “But okay.”

Steve turned back to Caitlin and Booker. “I’ll start pulling some guys aside to talk,” he said. “Maybe we’ll have some names for you by the morning.”

Luna furrowed her brow. “Were any Rejects police before the outbreak?”

Caitlin had a sinking suspicion most police officers were gone—dutifully showing up in towns to help, only to get taken out by a Geek or turned into one.

She kept that thought to herself.

“We could ask,” Nathaniel said. “But for now, I think we need to keep this to ourselves.”

He looked to the small group seated around the table.

“We can’t let a panic start,” he added. “We’ve all seen what people are capable of when they’re terrified.”

Booker nodded. “Y’all should know we told Nicole and Scott this mornin’.”

“They’ll keep it to themselves,” Nathaniel said. “But I’ll talk to Scott just to be sure.”

“I think we need to tell Sister Agnes too,” Caitlin said, shifting in her seat. “She needs to keep an eye out for any suspicious behavior of parents or someone hanging around the kids too much.”

Steve turned to her, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Children are easy targets,” she explained. “Especially the really young ones. They’re trusting and easily manipulated. If this person is escalating, they might try to do something.”

He looked baffled and Caitlin simultaneously wanted to roll her eyes and pat his cheek.

Some people truly lived much softer lives than they realized.

“Trust me,” she said, voice firm. “Not everyone sees children as precious gifts to protect. All they see is what they can get from them.”

Under the table, Booker gently took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the back of her knuckles.

“We’ll talk to Sister Agnes before her class starts,” Luna said with a nod.

As everyone dispersed, Caitlin still felt as though she’d eaten gravel for breakfast.

“How’s about we take a second look at that shed,” Booker said quietly.

“You think there might be something else inside?”

He tilted his head. “Maybe. Might find a clue as to who used it last.”

It was better than wandering the halls, sizing every person up who passed by her.

“Let’s go.”

* * * * * * *

Exiting out the back, Booker hoisted his rifle by the strap further onto his shoulder.

“Shoooo…It’s colder than a witch’s tit out here,” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands together.

“Why is always a witch that’s cold? Why does the woman have to be painted as a frigid hag?” Caitlin shut the door behind them quietly. “Why can’t it be ‘colder than wizard’s ballsack’ or something else just as crude and illogical?”

Booker chuckled. “I don’t think the people who come up with these things really put too much thought into it.”

“What a surprise, the sexists don’t put thought into anything.”

“Don’t tell me you’re gettin’ fired up over somethin’ this stupid.”

Caitlin exhaled and a cloud appeared in front of her face.

“No but it’s distracting me from the cold.”

Passing by the short line of vehicles, a shadow near their Jeep caught both their eyes, and Booker motioned for her to stop.

“You see that?” He whispered.

“Yep.”

The clang of metal was undeniable.

“What in the hell…” Booker muttered, already jogging over. “Hey! Hey! What’re you doin’ to our—”

Brown curls bounced as the perpetrator scrambled out from under the Jeep and got to her feet.

Booker and Caitlin pulled up short.

“Desi?” Booker frowned. “What’re you doin’ over here?”

With a wrench in one hand, and a grease smear across her tan cheek, she looked like a mini car mechanic.

“I was just fixing your muffler,” Desi said nonchalantly. “I heard it rattling the last time you drove back to camp.”

“You…” Booker looked from her to the Jeep and then back. “Now how in the hell would you know how t’do somethin’ like that?”

Desi shrugged, oversized corduroy jacket bunching around her shoulders.

Caitlin arched an eyebrow at her. “You didn’t just wake up one day knowing how to fix cars.”

“My dad taught me,” she finally said, voice quiet. “Before…”

Immediately, Caitlin’s heart broke.

“Sweetheart, it’s dangerous to play under cars,” Booker started.

“I wasn’t playing,” Desi countered with all the conviction of a grown up. “I fixed your muffler and I was about to change your oil when you found me.”

“Change my… Now wait a second, I change that oil regularly.”

Desi lifted a dark brown eyebrow. “That’s not what your dipstick says…”