EMP Catastrophe , Hamilton, Grace [phonics readers txt] 📗

truly begun to take root. The air had lost all hints of spring chill, and Matthew started to sweat in his coat. A warm breeze danced by him, making the pines rustle. He heard a plop as pinecones fell from the boughs and watched as squirrels scurried to the next food source, already thinking ahead to winter and preparing for it.

Maybe I should think like a squirrel, Matthew thought with a smile. Patton might have some tips. The kid had a huge imagination and a unique way of viewing the world.

The sound of hitched, gasping breath cut through the chitter-chatter of birds and small woodland creatures. Matthew came to a stop. His heart began to race because he knew that desperate crying. He’d only heard his mother cry a few times in his life, and always when something terrible had happened. When his father had had his heart attack, Ruth had broken down at one point, her wrenching cries like nails to Matthew’s heart. He always felt so helpless when his mother cried. He’d never forget the sound.

He started to run toward the sobbing. Soon, he saw her hunched shape kneeling in the tall grass just beyond the fence line. He dove for her, crashing to his knees beside her. His hands wrapped around her shoulders as he pulled her face up to look at him. No bruises, no cuts, no bleeding. She seemed physically to be fine, but the agony in her tearful eyes sent a chilling fear rushing through him.

“What happened, Mom?” he asked and hated that a tremor of childish fear seeped into the question. Even as a grown man in his prime, the sight of his mother reduced to such a fragile state made him feel young and helpless again. He would do anything to make her feel better.

The words came out too fast, as though she couldn’t catch her breath. “Patton,” she gasped. “Patton.”

Matthew’s eyes widened as he stared at his mother. “Patton? What about him?”

“He…he…” she started before another round of sobs clutched her, seeming to steal her voice.

She’s having a panic attack, Matthew thought. He held his mother tighter, this time hoping to support her. Even though he wanted to shake her and force her to tell him what had happened, she looked like any additional pressure might break her. “It’s okay,” he said. “Let’s get back to the hotel, somewhere safe where we can talk. Can you at least tell me if he’s unharmed right now?”

Ruth looked over her shoulder and seemed to shudder in agony, but she gave a nod. Matthew urged her up to her feet and she leaned heavily against him. She’d never looked so frail before, never so old. She felt like a bundle of sticks in his arms, ready to collapse into a heap. Matthew began to panic in response and felt as though her fear and grief were seeping into him. If it had to do with Patton, he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear what she had to say. At the same time, the parental protectiveness in him wanted to demand that his mother tell him what she meant.

Together, they managed to make it back to the hotel. Matthew helped Ruth sit on the front porch steps and urged her to put her head between her knees and take deep steadying breaths. Ruth obeyed and after a couple of deep, sob-ridden breaths, she seemed to calm down. Matthew knelt beside her and took her hands in his. “What happened?” he asked again. “Can you talk now?”

Ruth nodded and wiped at the tears on her face. Her usually tidy bun was falling out of place, and a stray leaf was stuck to her graying hair. Her eyes were reddened from crying. She took a fortifying breath and clutched Matthew’s hand. “Patton,” she said. “He went to play outside without telling anyone. I saw him leave and got dressed to follow him. He was pretending to dry-fire with a stick.” Ruth covered her mouth like she was trying to hold in her own fear.

The hair on the nape of Matthew’s neck stood on end. “What happened?” he asked.

“I was going to tell him to come back inside, that he couldn’t leave without telling someone where he was, but then there was someone behind him. A man. He…he put a knife to Patton’s neck.”

“He did what?” Matthew said, hearing the sharp edge of rage in his voice. Anger flowed into his bloodstream at the thought that anyone would dare threaten his son in such a way. “Who was this guy?”

“I’ve never seen him before, Matthew,” Ruth said, sounding broken. “He had tattoos all up his arms and on his shaved head. He introduced himself as Colin. I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

“He doesn’t sound familiar to me either.” Matthew frowned and struggled not to bombard her with questions. Her panic had receded, giving her the familiar calm that Matthew was used to. He couldn’t push her. He didn’t want to cause her to break down again.

“He took Patton,” Ruth said. “He told me to turn around, and—I had to do what he said, Matt, he had a knife under Patton’s jaw and Patton was bleeding!”

“You did the right thing,” Matthew said, squeezing her hands. “It would have been worse to put him and you at risk by making the man angry.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Ruth said, as another volley of tears cascaded down her cheeks. “I just let him take my grandson. I didn’t even fight.”

“What could you have done?” Matthew asked. “This Colin was armed and had Patton in a terrible position. I would have done the same. But what could he possibly want with Patton?”

Ruth fell silent, her face collapsing into a guilty expression. She wouldn’t meet Matthew’s eyes. “Colin asked about Max,” she said quietly.

“Max,” Matthew stated, even as he saw red. That no-good son of a—

“Colin said he wanted to Max to meet him on the outskirts of Galena by sundown.