by Chris Bostic
“Glad he knows where he’s going,” I whispered.
Having looked at the map before we left, I knew we were headed down to the main road, then skirting along a highway a good six miles before we took off toward a rocky-topped spine named Thomas Ridge.
Six miles in daylight should’ve only taken maybe two hours. Three at the most on a hot, uphill climb. It seemed to me like we’d hiked half the night before we made it to the highway.
We struck off along the road, staying on the gravel shoulder so we could scatter into the woods at a moment’s notice. Muted chatter from the adults didn’t travel all the way back to my position at the end of the line. All I could hear was the crunching of gravel under our boots, which wasn’t any quieter than the crinkling of dried leaves that had plagued my ears for the whole first part of our hike.
“Sucks that we blew all these bridges,” Austin grumbled as we stopped short of the first of several stream crossings. A thirty foot expanse at least fifteen feet deep cut through the roadway like a miniature chasm. There was no getting straight down into the creek without ropes for rappelling.
“And now they’re coming back to fix them,” Spotted Owl said. “But we kept them outta here a long time. I’d say job well done.”
“Whatever,” Austin said, not one to be contradicted. Apparently, that trait ran deep within our family.
“We never went this far east,” my mom said as we huddled underneath the shadowy tree canopy that had to be taller than the roof of our two-story house back in the suburbs. “How many more miles until Cherokee?”
“A long ways. If we were gonna keep goin’ on to town, there’s at least ten more miles to go, and a whole lotta roadblocks. No worries, though.” Spotted Owl flashed a thumbs up. “We’ve got pretty good teamwork for a bunch of strangers.”
“That’s true,” Spotted Fawn agreed. “We’ve worked well together, if always camped apart.”
“Until now. Y’all get to spend the night at my place for a little Carolina hospitality. But that comes later.” Spotted Owl motioned off to the side of the highway. “We can slide off the road here, and cut through the woods to get around the bridge. The stream narrows about forty yards up that way.”
“Up the hill,” I muttered under my breath.
We slid down the road slope into the woods, and found a rocky ditch at the bottom of the viney, brambly slope. Spotted Owl led us immediately back up, hopping around protruding boulders as he climbed as steadily as a mountain goat. I figured the big man could’ve easily scaled down the canyon where the bridge had been, and assumed he only took us this way because he didn’t trust our climbing skills. And that was fine with me. I didn’t trust my climbing abilities on slick, vertical slopes either.
The sound of gurgling water materialized into a steep stream moments later. Water poured down the rocky staircase, generated a spray much like a small waterfall.
I considering sharing my thoughts with Katelyn, but ended up keeping them to myself. Having been touchy about Jonas before, I had a feeling she might take it the wrong way.
To my surprise, Katelyn sidled up next to me and said, “I could fall again…maybe fake an injury here.” Her brown eyes twinkled in the moonlight as she pointed up the hill. “Maybe have a little quiet time over there, by that little falls.”
“Oh, man. Wouldn’t that be great?” I whispered, but my mom interrupted the moment.
“Keep up, kids. You guys have been dragging.”
That didn’t sit well with me. “What? Says you.”
“That’s right,” Mom chided. “You’re being lazy.”
My face got hotter than a firecracker, but it was a totally different reason from the moment before. “Dude, that’s bull-”
Katelyn mashed a hand over my mouth to keep me from saying something I might regret.
“We’re coming,” she replied. After a warning glance, she uncovered my big mouth to grab me by the hand. “C’mon, slacker.”
“Okay, great. Use Austin’s nickname,” I shot back, but quickly bit back on the anger. “That’s real funny, Katie.”
“Ooh, the nickname. You must be pissed.”
“Not at you.” I struggled at putting my thoughts into words. I wasn’t sure if I was more upset about missing out on the alone time, or being labeled a slacker when we’d been doing perfectly fine keeping up. If anyone was a problem child, I was sure it had to be Austin.
The way I figured it, Mom was probably just worried about the job ahead. That thought only served to make me more concerned about what we were getting into.
“C’mon, babe.” As if she was reading my mind, Katelyn added, “I was just kidding about stopping.”
“I know, and that’s what makes it worse.”
“Then fine. I won’t try to lighten the mood.”
“Nah, you’re welcome to try. I’m just a bit, uhm, edgy.”
“A bit, huh?” She picked out a path across the stream, and tugged me toward it. “Follow me, hero.”
“Whatever.” I debated pushing her into the water; playfully, of course. In addition to hearing both sets of our parents freak out, I decided against it when I wiped the back of my free hand across my forehead. The mist from the waterfall had settled in like cold dew. The stream water would be icy at best. There was no way I would do that to her. Had it still been summertime, it was almost a given—especially if we had been alone.
“You daydreaming?” Katelyn asked, catching me with a goofy grin.
“Maybe.”
She urged me along, erasing the look from my face. We hustled down the slope and caught up to the others at the edge of the road only to have my mother turn around and give me another annoyed glance.
I bit down on my lower lip to stifle a retort, and took Katelyn’s hand. She slowed ever so slightly so I could come up alongside her on the gravel.
“Why they gotta pick on me when Austin’s always the one complaining?”
“Who’s complaining now?” she replied, but softened the jab with a squeeze of the hand.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“I know what you mean. It’s like you always say…he’s the favorite.”
“But I have no idea why.”
“First born son,” she suggested. “Look at John. My parents let him do everything.”
“He’s the only son,” I replied, “and like ten years older than you.”
“More like eight.” She kicked at a loose rock on the shoulder sending it off into the woods with a leafy crash. “Oops.”
“They’re gonna blame me,” I said right as my mother turned around to scowl at me again.
“At least they know you’re here,” Katelyn said after my mom had spun back around. “The middle child is supposed to be the forgotten one.”
“And then there’s Maddie.” I picked up the pace to a brisk walk along the side of the road.
“Don’t you dare say anything bad about her.”
“Oh, really?” I tugged on her arm like a slingshot, and cut ahead of her. “I almost forgot you guys were best buds.”
“So? I like her.” Katelyn was frowning as she caught up to walk next to me. “Besides, I’m the one stuck in camp all day. I have to have someone to talk to when you’re not around.”
“Anyone but my sister would be nice.”
“She’s not so bad, Zach.”
“I know. I’m just kidding.” I watched my brother moping along behind my parents and grunted. “I like her way better than Austin.”
“I know. Anyway…we should change the subject,” Katelyn suggested.
The sound of pounding of gravel, the aching in my feet, and heavy thoughts about the unknown future were all I could come up with. Apparently, it was the same for Katelyn. We both remained quiet as we worked our way up the entire length of a big hill.
I was sucking wind by the time I made it to the top, and couldn’t have been happier to see Spotted Owl stop to rest. He hopped off the shoulder into a shallow roadside ditch. Putting my hands behind my hea
d, I tried to reinflate my aching lungs like a runner. The cool air burned as I inhaled gulps.
Katelyn unzipped her jacket and threw it over her shoulder. It hung on her backpack like a cape, and I chuckled at the superhero image.
“What’s so funny?” she asked. “I’m sweating over here.”
“Me, too. It’s just…” I didn’t want to go the hero route again and make her think I was actually getting a big head about the whole prisoner thing, and ended up whispering, “Supergirl.”
“Say what?
“You look like Supergirl.” When she frowned at me, I added, “The cape. Your jacket looks like a cape.”
“Does Supergirl even have a cape?”
I didn’t answer right away. Comic books hadn’t really been my thing. I wasn’t even sure there was an actual Supergirl, and I was plenty sure Katelyn was way too young to bear any resemblance to Wonder Woman.
“I dunno,” I finally said, but Katelyn had long since moved on.
She’d edged over by the adults, listening between her mother and father like she was standing at a crack in a doorway. I slipped up behind her and caught the last little bit.
“Choppers are out again,” Spotted Owl was saying. “They didn’t get an ID on ‘em, so base is saying we might need to sit tight a while.”
“Here?” my dad asked, twisting around to scan the sky like a Doppler radar.
“We should be able to see ‘em coming,” my mom answered. “We can see a long way from up here.”
“True story,” Spotted Owl agreed. “I’m good with hanging out until we either get the all clear or figure out if they’re Apaches.”
Unfortunately for us, there was no such thing as an all clear. From the valley below, the roar of engines turned to the telltale whopping sound of helicopters.
CHAPTER 11
“Get in the woods!” Spotted Owl hollered, though most of the group was already off the shoulder.
“Austin!” Mom howled. “Get back here.”
It came as no surprise to me that my brother had stepped out to the middle of the road.
“I don’t see it yet,” he shouted back. “It might not even come this way.”
“There’s more than one,” Spotted Owl. “Get down here now.”
“C’mon, pal,” Dad said, hopping back to the gravel. He reached an arm out to pull him off the road if he had to.
Austin huffed, but eventually listened. He slunk to the roadside, but in no great hurry. He kept looking over his shoulder as the roaring built up.
I crouched under a bush close to Katelyn. I was no less interested than Austin, but kept more concealed with eyes peeled to the sky. My only view was straight ahead the way we had been hiking, and it was soon filled with a whirring sound that rivaled a hurricane.
Metal gleamed in the moonlight as the first one appeared over the horizon. I swore the pilot was face to face with me, though obviously a long distance separated us. Still, I instantly buried my head in my hands as the forest came alive.
It took a moment for me to hear Spotted Owl screaming, “Spread out! Fast!”
Before we’d left camp, Spotted Owl and Noel had discussed the possibility that the government might start employing attack helicopters in night operations. Unlike the Blackhawks and little birds that were made for inserting troops, the Apaches were thought to have been equipped with thermal imaging. That would overcome any advantage our group had moving around after dark. The only defense was to scatter like rats and hope we blended in with the deer and the bears and whatever else might be big enough to throw off a heat signature.
Or find somewhere safe to hide.
I looked up and stared at the first helicopter hovering closer on the horizon. Pylons stuck out on short, stubby wings, each loaded with rocket pods. Bullets from the nose-mounted Gatling gun were bound to tear through the woods any second.
As badly as I wanted to grab Katelyn’s hand, it was more important that we separated.
“Meet back here when they’re gone!” I yelled, and pointed for her to take off downhill. “Run!”
She nodded sharply and spun. I lingered a second as I watched her scamper down the hill the way we had come. Then I took off, veering slightly to her left to stay separated.
The slope was steep enough that I couldn’t run at full speed. The darkness didn’t help either. Brambles rose up from nowhere to trip me. Branches slashed at my face. My jacket helped deflect the worst.
In the low light, I couldn’t see the smaller branches in my way until I’d already run through them, so I raised an arm in front of my face and plowed forward like a battering ram.
The helicopter growled behind me, gaining in elevation as it crested the hill and tilted to where it could scan down the slope.
I didn’t look back anymore, trying to concentrate on nothing but running as fast as I could. One wrong move would send me tumbling all the way to the bottom, but I wasn’t going to complain about having to climb that steep slope again as long as I got away. All that mattered was running, as much as I hated that particular activity.
With my forearm doing a better job of shielding my face, I ran even faster. The rifle slung over my shoulder snagged a branch, pulling me back. I shrugged the vegetation loose and picked up the pace.
I kept my eyes trained on the ground, and risked not seeing far enough ahead to steer around the bigger obstacles. Even so, I tripped when a vine wrapped around my boot. I careened to the side, knocking into a smaller tree in the process.
With a brrrrrr sound, the Gatling gun on the lead chopper opened up at the same time. I fell to the ground as bullets tore through the trees all around me. Never had I been more thankful to have been tripped. I rolled to the side as cut branches fell from the sky. But I couldn’t move. The fall had forced all the air from my lungs. I was too exhausted to suck in a much needed breath.
The helicopter came almost directly overhead. My rifle had flung uselessly off to the side in the fall. I didn’t give a second thought to retrieving it.
The trees all around me lashed in the breeze. Saplings bent over and bushes thrashed. Dried leaves dropped like rain as the rotor-powered wind pulled them loose. By the time the first chopper floated off farther downhill, it appeared like I was a kid again hiding in a pile of leaves.
I played dead. The swirling dust aggravated my eyes but I dared not move to rub them. Already overtaken, I figured a motionless heat signature splayed out on the forest floor might be enough to convince the other pilot that I was down.
I couldn’t help but flinch when the second chopper appeared, heading back toward me. A whooshing sound erupted from right over my head.
“Holy crap,” I whispered as I peeked up to see the twin fiery trails of rockets streak toward the top of the mountain. A sharp white flash and explosions quickly followed.
I resisted the urge to pull my arms and legs up underneath myself. I tried to fight off the shudders that wracked my body. It was worse than falling in a frozen pond.
I struggled to suck in a breath as visions came to me. Katelyn blown apart. My parents leaking blood into the soil. Worse images continued as the helicopter loosed another volley of rockets onto the hill above me.
Finally, the second helicopter glided off farther down the slope toward the valley, but I felt no ease. It had seemed easier for the choppers to rocket the hillside when facing uphill, and I braced myself for another volley.
Seconds stretched to minutes. The two helicopters hovered side by side well below my position on the hill. I dared not move, not even when I heard the impact of bullets rip into the hillside, ricocheting off rocks.
“Please let everyone be okay,” I whispered, and repeated similar words over and over until the whirring of the helicopter rotors finally changed pitch and began to drift away.
Even though I was sure they’d left, I stayed motionless for several minutes. The forest didn’t come alive around me the way it would have during the daylight hours. The birds and bigger animals had all quieted
for the night, and the early frost had taken care of most of the bugs. That left nothing but the still night to keep me on edge.
I wanted to call out for the others, but held my tongue. I couldn’t explain why, except that I wasn’t feeling anything other than numb. In fact, it took a great effort to finally sit up again.
A deep breath would’ve helped, but I continued having trouble forcing more than little sips of air into my aching chest.
I finally gathered up my rifle, and sat still for a moment longer, scanning the woods in every direction. Nothing moved. No one made a sound. And then I heard the whimper.
From up above me, my mom wailed, “Harold!”
“Crap, not Mom,” I uttered, terrified that she had been shot or rocketed.
I scrambled to my feet ready to run when she cried out again. “Someone help!”
CHAPTER 12
I rushed up the hill, heading toward the sound of my mom’s voice. She continued to call for help, several times before I was sure I was headed in the right direction. Though I knew I had been sprinting downhill before, I couldn’t believe I’d made it that much farther than the others.
“Ma!” I yelled back when I thought I was getting close. She didn’t reply, but an unexpected sulfur smell verified that it couldn’t be much farther. The stench led me into a pit of cratered earth. Splintered trees leaned to the side. Several smoldered.
“Mom? Where are you?”
“Over here! Hurry!”
I squinted through the blackness. Zeroing in on the sound of her voice, I adjusted course to the right to skirt around the blast zone.
“Where’s Dad?”
“With me.”
And he hadn’t replied for himself, I realized. My stomach turned to concrete, and I nearly tripped on a stump as my thoughts went to a place much darker than the rocket-scarred forest.
I righted myself and finally closed the distance. My mother sat on the ground, hunched over like an old woman. As I slid in next to her, she spun around and dug inside her backpack.
“You need to keep pressure on that,” she ordered, fully immersed into nurse mode. Or at least that’s the way I anticipated her days had been back when she’d worked in the emergency room. “He’s losing too much blood.”