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flighty, perhaps even annoying. Now he hated himself for all the times he wished she’d go away.

Worse, he could also remember a time when Sierra was different. Sweet, caring, and bookish. He recalled her first-grade class Halloween party when she’d insisted on a ninja princess costume. Two discount store outfits and a little bit of sewing by Liz later, and they’d created the finest in shadow assassin monarch regalia. She’d won first prize, and hadn’t they all been so proud as a family?

When Liz got pregnant with Kyle, they placed a highchair with a teddy bear in the seat at the dining room table. The idea came from some parenting magazine Liz read. It was supposed to help get the elder child used to the idea of a baby.

But Sierra threw a fit, knocked over the highchair, and attacked the teddy bear because it stole “her” seat and “her” spot at the table. That was a mess.

After the birth, however, Sierra became the perfect big sister. She even helped Kyle learn to read.

Luke grinned, remembering how Liz tried to calm him down when Sierra painted Kyle’s toenails purple for a tea party.

Now all he had left of Sierra was the cold body on his shoulder and those memories.

Wordlessly, they trudged on. Luke almost wanted to cross paths with some of those COB bastards. He needed something to hit, something to stab, something to shoot. Blood wouldn’t ease the pain in his heart, but it would fill the void for a while.

That was dangerous thinking, but Luke didn’t care. The body of his child, growing stiff on his shoulder, knocked aside any concerns for his own well-being. He would hack his way through flesh and bone if that’s what it took to keep the rest of his family safe. He’d enjoy sending some of those zealots to hell.

Derek came abreast of him, his lips thin and tight.

“Got something to say?” Luke growled.

“Do you want me to take a turn—take a turn carrying her? I mean, are you tired or—”

“I’m fine.” Luke increased his pace until he left Derek behind a few paces. The younger man struggled to keep up but didn’t speak again.

The weight of his dead daughter was a constant, painful reminder of his failure and loss. Perhaps he’d been too hard on her. If he’d been a kinder, gentler parent, would she still have run off into the wilderness?

It was tough to grow up as a military brat. Always moving. Dealing with a constant stream of new friends and being the perennial new kid in school sucked. Kyle always took well to it, but Sierra wasn’t as resilient.

If only the bombs hadn’t fallen. If only his life could go back to the way it was before all this madness. Maybe if he’d tried harder, he could have reached Sierra. But he hadn’t. He failed, and there was no way to fix things. Sierra was dead, and now his heart was shattered.

As they marched on, Luke tried to find the right words to tell his wife and son. There weren’t any. All he could think of was how badly he’d failed and how his heart would break again at the sight of his wife’s tear-streaked face.

Derek marched behind Luke. He questioned every decision he’d made since Sierra had followed him three days ago. The misery and guilt of her death weighed him down. With a heavy heart and leaden legs, he forced himself to trudge forward.

Not only did he feel shame and remorse over what happened, but there was a healthy amount of fear as well. Sooner or later, Luke or someone else would notice the ligature marks on Sierra’s wrists. How in the world would he explain that?

He toyed with the idea of blaming the cultists, but he knew that wouldn’t do. Luke might want to know where she’d been held. He’d want revenge.

Derek wasn’t sure he could lie convincingly to Luke. Not about this. Not when he’d played a part in it. He’d messed up big time by keeping her at the shelter. If he’d sent her home, she would probably still be alive.

He’d held her captive so no one would find the location of the fallout shelter. But now Luke knew about it too. Maybe Derek should have come clean from the beginning. He could have hiked back with Sierra and told Luke about the place, but he didn’t. He’d hesitated in order to give himself options. And now she was dead.

In the end, she’d been a good person. She’d cared for him when he’d been shot. Sure, she was a little inappropriate with her touches, but his wound hadn’t become infected. He was healing well, and he had no doubt Sierra had saved his life.

And how did he repay her? By getting her killed. All because he wouldn’t trust her. He’d made a grave error, a massive blunder.

If Luke learned about Derek’s mistake, Luke would probably kill him. It’s what Derek would do if he were in Luke’s position. Although Derek believed he could move a little bit faster than Luke, he’d be no match against a man grieving for his daughter.

Luke’s misery was palpable. It hung like an intangible pall over their silent journey. He could only imagine how devastated Liz and Kyle would be once they found out. Even if he wasn’t sure he could trust her, Derek deeply respected Liz for her tenacity, toughness, and willingness to do anything to protect her family. She was a good woman, and he’d all but killed her daughter. Dammit!

His rationale for holding her captive seemed so stupid now. Derek had been afraid to trust Luke and his family, but sooner or later, he would have to trust someone. He couldn’t go it alone. Even if he killed them all and took the fallout shelter for himself, what good would that do? He couldn’t handle all the work necessary to survive alone. He’d need help, and Luke had just as many skills as Derek did,

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