by Chris Bostic
Seeing no further movement down by the road, I focused back in on the man in front of me. All the male rebels I knew were bearded. No self-respecting prepper would waste time or supplies on shaving, though it wasn’t out of the question. Sometimes my growing beard itched, and it could be torturous enough to make me want to shave.
“What camp you from?” I barked, breaking the long silence.
“Uhm…” The man swallowed, and looked at the rifle pointing squarely at his chest. “You mind putting that thing down.”
“Yes, I do.”
“The way you’re shaking, you know that could go off.”
I ignored my bruised ego, and gripped the rifle tighter. I shook it emphatically. “Don’t you worry. Now answer the question.”
“What was it?”
“Don’t play stupid.”
The man didn’t answer. I stole a quick look at the road, and still found no trace of the camouflaged man. Though I really wanted John to hurry back, I wasn’t about to yell for him. He’d know what to do. And if he didn’t, he had a two-way radio with him that we could use to call back to camp. That was what we were supposed to do if the Feds launched a major offensive on the roadblock.
Rather than allow the stranger anywhere near camp without having answers, I turned back to him and decided to go with threats. I wasn’t about to do any actual violence, though I hoped the prisoner didn’t realize that.
“I can tie you up and leave you out here.”
“You and what army? You put that weapon down and you won’t be so tough.”
“Maybe not, but I’m the one in charge right now. So I’d suggest you start talking before my partner gets back. He’s not nearly as, uhm, polite.”
“Partner, huh? I figured you might be a bit young to be out on your own.”
The man had a way of hitting me in my weak spots. I could only work on one of my two big flaws: age and apprehension. Both would take time, so I went with firming up the latter.
“Not so young that I can’t leave you for dead, so you’d better start talking. I’m not just gonna turn you loose.”
Nor was I going to let the man come close enough to rush me. As much as I didn’t want to pull the trigger, not even to scare him with a warning shot, I found my hand creeping toward it as the man shifted from a seating position to a crouch.
“I understand. Here’s the deal.” He leaned forward conspiratorially, which looked odd given the separation. “I need to talk to your leaders. There’s something big they’re gonna want to know.”
“You some kind of agent?”
“What would you know about that?”
“Plenty,” I said, remembering back to all the visits my father had received for posting pro-liberty, anti-government writing on a variety of different websites and blogs. His freedom-loving rants had the long, oppressive arm of the law parked in our front yard on and off for the last year until the big collapse.
“Anyway,” the man continued, “I need to share some intel with your superiors. It’s, uhm, classified.”
“You’re not going anywhere until I hear something I can believe.”
The man’s hard eyes stared at my newfound resolve, and his expression softened. “Fine. Here’s the deal. I’m Noel, and I’m looking to share information in exchange for a place to stay.”
“Thanks. I’m Zach, but that doesn’t mean we’re gonna shake hands and be best buds from here on out.” I kept the rifle pointed in the general direction of the man, and wouldn’t lay it aside until John returned. Until then, I had to deal with the fact that I was stuck alone with the new guy.
The man nodded at the lowered gun, and offered a thin smile. “Understood, Zach.”
“So, Noel,” I repeated his name sarcastically. “You’re sure you weren’t followed?”
“I think you’ve been seeing things. I promise you I wasn’t followed.”
“Well we can’t exactly give you a safe place to stay if you’re being tracked. You’ll have to be searched for wires and GPS trackers and all that.”
“Ten-four. Have your people meet me out here, unless you want to do it yourself.”
Not really, I thought, but I had a feeling that John wouldn’t have any such qualms.
Seeing how it looked like we might be waiting a while and the guy seemed forthcoming enough, I decided it was time to cut him a little slack. I reached in my pocket and offered him some food.
“I only have a couple granola bars, but you’re welcome to one.”
“Thanks.” He rose to his feet, and I quickly tightened my grip on the rifle.
“Just stay there.” I tossed him the packet. “Sorry, but I’m not taking any chances…at least not until you can explain a little more about what you’re doing out here.”
A deep voice rose from behind me. “I’d like to know the same thing.”
I wheeled around to John standing there. He’d climbed the slope behind me as quietly as a cat, and apparently caught a fair amount of our conversation. Tossing a turkey and his bow and arrows to the side, John stepped next to me.
“Spill it about who you are and what you’re doing here, or you’re not going anywhere.”
The man tilted his head. “And you are?”
“Asking the questions,” John replied sharply.
With a smirk, the man nodded. “Alright, tough guy. I’m Noel, and I’m here to share some intel with your leaders. And I’ve got a feeling you might be one of them.”
“Close enough. You can call me John.” He squinted at the man, seemingly examining him from head to toe. “Spill it.”
“There’s something major in the works. I’m sure you’ve noticed the way the attacks have increased, and it’s about to get a whole lot worse.”
“We’ve noticed,” John said. “That’s why you’re not getting anywhere near the others until you’ve been checked out.”
“If you treat all the other camps this way, how do you even get along? Maybe the Feds have nothing to worry about after all.”
“But you’re not from another camp, are you?” John said. “We can easily find out.”
I nodded along at the ping pong match. At the same time, I continued to scan the road for the other person, if there had been one. As much as I was sure there had been someone else, I couldn’t shake the suspicion that my mind had played tricks on me again.
When I focused back in on the conversation, I noticed that John had taken an edgier tone again.
“What’s with those boots?” John pointed to Noel’s feet. “Those are government issue.”
“So is everyone else’s gear. It’s military surplus. Like a bunch of preppers wouldn’t know all about that.”
“Take off your cap.”
“C’mon, man,” Noel protested. “It’s cold out here.”
“Just do it.”
The man obliged. The buzzed hair on Noel’s temples changed over at the crown of his head to a slightly longer cut.
“Military issue haircut,” John said. “Take off your jacket.”
“Yes, I have a tattoo also. You got me.” He stood and saluted. “Noel Ridings, Sergeant First Class, Fort Benning, Georgia.”
“That’s name and rank. How about serial number?”
“I forgot. I’ve been out of the service for a while.”
“How does that happen?” I interjected. I looked to John. “I thought they were conscripting more soldiers to the cause, not letting them go.”
“Good question.” John turned to Noel. “You care to answer that?”
He looked to his boots and shrugged. “Well, what can I say? I’m a deserter.”
CHAPTER 3
“Why didn’t you say that right away?” I asked.
“I’m not exactly proud of it.” Noel shrugged again. “And now you know why I need somewhere to stay.”
“Get up,” John said. He seemed to me like he still wasn’t that trusting. Nobody liked a deserter, but I couldn’t really blame the guy. With the way the government had perverted la
w and order into oppression and murder, I was happy to learn there was someone who was willing to stand up to that. Or at least run away.
For the longest time, I had thought my parents were simply running away. My mom, a devoted prepper, had us ready to bug out of our suburban Knoxville home before the first bombs had fallen. To my dismay, it had seemed as if we were set on a life in hiding. Sometimes it still did.
I knew my dad had bigger ideas. Always the one to speak out, the former banker had witnessed the beginning of the end firsthand, and had railed against the skyrocketing national debt, limits on personal freedom, travel bans and so on. I didn’t necessarily understand the issues much better than when we had been living back home, but I had more time to listen as we sat around the boring cave. I didn’t have a room to hide in when my dad went off on another tangent about banking regulations, debt defaults, and everything else that derailed the economy. I just knew things were bad, and all the preppers turned rebels were going to actually do something about it.
“Let’s head back,” John said, interrupting my thoughts.
Katelyn’s brother stooped over to pick up the bow, and then grabbed a good-sized turkey by its legs.
“Nice bird,” I said.
“It won’t feed us all, but it’ll be nice to get a little fresh meat.”
“How big is your camp?” Noel interrupted.
He walked closer to us. I didn’t raise the rifle that time. Not sure how much information we should be sharing, I deferred the answer to John.
“Big enough. Let’s get going.” John turned to me. “Wait here a second while I go use the radio.”
I nodded. “He’ll just tell ‘em we’ve got company,” I said when Noel’s eyes met mine.
He pulled his stocking cap back over his head. “Makes sense.”
John was back a moment later. He knelt over to stuff the turkey into a backpack. It was not a simple task given the size of the bird. Throwing the swollen pack over his shoulders, he turned to us.
“Spread out…in a line.” He pointed to Noel. “I want you in the middle. Zach, right behind him. Keep me covered.”
We took off down the slope in the direction John had gone to ambush the turkeys. I kept my mouth pinched shut when we didn’t follow the usual path back to the cave. Instead, John led us off farther to the west down to a wooded valley.
A narrow stream, one of thousands in the park, ran alongside us. John kept beside the rocks lining the stream bank, and eventually turned to the right to follow the falling water uphill from the narrow valley.
No one spoke. Though I had become accustomed to climbing steep mountain trails, my breathing was soon labored.
The sun popped over a distant hillside, and bathed us in an early morning glow. My breath no longer spewed forth with the cold condensation of winter morning.
It was a typical, glorious autumn day. Cool mornings and warm days prevailed, only to repeat all over again until the dreaded snows would come and taint the air as bitter as day old coffee.
I relished the fall. With the humidity slowly dropping and the blazing heat gone, I was comfortable during the daylight hours like no other time. The morning chill wasn’t enjoyable when I was sitting on the hard ground watching a roadblock that never showed any sign of activity—at least until that day.
The coolness of that fall morning made the long, steep hike from camp to the roadblock almost pleasant. For me, not sweating was pleasant enough.
I’d gotten markedly better at estimating distance. I figured we’d covered at least a mile, which should have put us almost halfway back to the camp. Although I didn’t know exactly where we were at, I knew John had been skirting around the mountain range that harbored our secluded camp.
Midway up the hill, John stopped abruptly. He motioned for us to gather around him.
“You can take a little break. Have a drink.”
He offered his water bottle to Noel, who gratefully accepted. After a big swig, he handed it back to John with a tight smile.
“Thanks, man. Best drink I’ve had in days.”
John looked at him curiously, but didn’t question the statement. Instead, he replied, “No problem. Hang out here for a second.”
John gestured at me with his head to direct me off to the side out of earshot.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Just being careful. No reason to show him the quick way back.”
“Good call. Speaking of careful, you heard that I saw someone else down by the road before this guy, right?” I whispered.
“Yeah. Guess I got a bit sidetracked.”
“I kept looking for the guy, but he never showed himself.”
“Me, too. That’s kinda why I really took my time questioning this guy. I didn’t want to leave until the coast was clear.”
I noticed that John continued to look around the woods, even though we were so deep into the timber that we couldn’t see a hundred yards in any direction. Truth be told, I had been watching too. I’d been trained by the best to remain attentive at all times; however, my penchant for letting the daydreams take over was something I still needed to work on.
“Weird thing was,” I said, “the guy had a camo jacket. A beard. Kinda looked like you.”
“It wasn’t me, bud. I didn’t go anywhere near the road.”
“I figured.” I exhaled out the frustration at not knowing. “Great…I mean, unless I was imagining things.”
I instantly regretted admitting my failings, but John didn’t follow up on it. Instead, he said, “We’ll keep our eyes open. Could be another camp has been trailing this guy. There’s something fishy about him.”
“Agreed. I wonder if we’re doing the right thing bringing him back.”
“I’m already on that. Like I was saying, we’re not going back to camp the normal way.”
“Yeah, of course,” I agreed. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”
“I didn’t think you would.” John leaned in closer. “Here’s the deal. Your dad’s gonna meet up with us at Rainbow Falls. We’ll do a full debrief and check him over for trackers before he gets anywhere near the cave.”
“Just my dad?” I asked before realizing how desperate that made me sound. But it had literally been a couple weeks since I’d had a moment of alone time with Katelyn outside the cave.
“Yeah. I didn’t think we needed both of your parents for this too.” John narrowed his eyes, and a sly grin broke over his face. “Oh, I get it. You’re wantin’ to take my sister to the falls, aren’t ya?”
“No. That’s totally not-”
John waved off the lame explanation. “Look, bud, it’s pretty cool over there, but I’d take a woman to Bridal Falls if I really wanted to show her a good time.”
“Dude, you’re sick. That’s your sister.”
“Hey, I’m not the one trying to cozy up to her. I’m just trying to help you out.” John tapped me on the arm. “I like you, man. Besides, I haven’t forgotten what it’s like to have a crush.”
I took offense at the last word. There was no doubt my initial feelings for Katelyn had been borderline obsessive, but not in a bad way. Months later, I felt as strongly as before, if not more so. And that shouldn’t have qualified as a crush any longer.
Before I could object, John dropped a bombshell.
“You know I think it’s only fair…if you get to hang all over my sister, then you should set me up with yours.”
“What?”
“Dude, I’m joking. Seriously.”
“Good, ‘cause you’re like twice her age.”
“I’m not that old,” John said. “I’m twenty-five.”
“And she’s barely fourteen. Good God, that’s sick.”
John seemed legitimately offended. He grabbed at his heart before patting me on the shoulder. “That hurts. I said I was joking. I mean seriously…lighten up.”
I took a step back and recognized the honesty in John’s voice, but it didn’t make it any less creepy. In fact, John had to
take things one step further and keep blathering on about Katelyn.
“I get that we’re all kinda crowded into the cave,” he said. “Ever since the attacks have started up again, my folks have been really overprotective. You two could use a trip to the falls.”
“Shouldn’t we go?” I asked, shooting a look over at Noel. He’d taken the opportunity to sit down, and had pulled off his boots to massage his tired feet. I thought the man’s footwear looked pretty good for someone who’d supposedly hiked a long way to get there.
I wanted to share that thought with John, but my would-be brother-in-law was still going on about Katelyn. So I walked away from John to hopefully put an end to the awkward conversation.
Noel looked up at me. “We ready?”
“More than.” I motioned for him to get up. “Let’s go.”
Noel pulled his boots back on over thick wool socks. They looked to be in as good of a condition as the boots, which made me more jealous than suspicious. I had been able to borrow several pairs since my first campsite had been destroyed, but I’d never found the perfect pair for hiking. Something thick to cushion but wicking for moisture was ideal, and most of my socks were wearing out quickly after five mile hikes day after day.
I would really need thick socks when the weather turned, I thought, as a cool breeze slipped through the trees like a harbinger of winter to come. Fortunately, we were well into mid-morning, and the sun rapidly climbed higher. The rays slipped through gaps in the canopy to paint the forest floor in spectacular reds and yellows of freshly fallen maple and poplar leaves.
My mood always brightened when the sun came overhead, especially when the accompanying light didn’t bring heat to the magnitude of a sweat bath. I blinked as the leaves rustled again in a gentle breeze, temporarily exposing me to a direct shot from the sun.
A dark shadow crossed my eyes. I blinked again to remove the bright white still painted over my retinas. My vision slowly cleared to reveal a buzzard-like object circling high above the treetops.
When the object passed over an opening in the canopy, my improving mood turned as sour as old milk. The bulbous nose and swept wings of a different kind of predator were plainly outlined in that clear sky.