Apollo Project

by Brittany E Brinegar

  “I’ve never been great with time, but no more than an hour.” Scotty rode his Appaloosa and held the reins of Jon’s horse. They didn’t want to leave a horse behind for Duke and the extra mount could in handy.

  “Our wagon’s probably not making great time,” Reagan said. “It shouldn’t be long until we catch them.”

  Neither of them said it aloud but worried Jon would arrive first on his ATV. Reagan and Scotty traveled alongside the train tracks kicking gravel as they charged. With Travis Wayne gone, anxiety nipped at Reagan concerning the strength of the group. Granddad was feisty but nursing a bad hip, Annabeth was brave and mature but only fifteen, and the Caribou Crew was an anchor, weighing them down, leaving only Kelly and Barb to take charge.

  The sun dipped below the horizon and a cloudless, starless night sky arrived. “Still no stars,” Scotty said.

  “Add it to the list.”

  The wind gusted and a drizzle pattered. The rain and nighttime did little to the ever-present heat. As the ride wore on into the abyss, the drizzle mutated into an angry downpour. Water pelted Reagan’s hat and sloshed against the horse’s hooves. “It sure is coming down.”

  Scotty dragged a wet hand along his face. “At least it’s washing the blood off.”

  Careful not to push the horses to their breaking point, Reagan and Scotty caught the wagon in a half-hour. Soaked to the bone, visibility proved difficult.

  “On the bridge,” Scotty said with a whistle and point toward the lantern.

  Suspended above Lewis Creek was a rusty, iron bridge with stone support beams. The crisscrossed archways provided a patchy roof over the narrow bridge. Below, the creek rose and rushed like the raging Colorado River on a whitewater rafting trip through the canyons.

  Reagan pulled her horse to a stop and signaled her flashlight at the bridge. Annabeth returned the gesture from inside the wagon. Reagan beckoned them forward. She worried exposure on the bridge made it the perfect position for Jon’s ambush.

  As if reading her mind, Scotty’s eyes scanned the area for signs of trouble. “Maybe he didn’t want to risk coming back?”

  “Maybe.” Reagan wasn’t sure. “Let’s reunite with the group.” With a surge of the horses, they joined their people.

  “Did you find Andy and the radio?” Barb waited at the bridge entrance rubbing a charley horse in her leg. Her cocoa brown hair was plastered to the side of her head as rain pelted.

  Scotty slapped his saddlebag. “Not letting this thing out of my sight.”

  Barb grinned and shouted into the storm. “After my blunder, I don’t blame you, Scotty. But can I give it a try? Tom and Travis Wayne may have attempted to contact us.”

  “Let’s wait until we are clear of the rain,” Reagan said.

  “Did Andy give you any trouble?” Barb asked.

  Reagan didn’t have time to explain the disaster at the Junior High. Her gaze scoured the surrounding trees as her hand brushed her rifle. Her horse loped to meet the wagon halfway across the long bridge.

  “I know what I saw.” Jasper’s voice croaked.

  “Any number of things could cause you to hallucinate,” Kelly said.

  “Lack of sleep, a fever, the burn marks.” Granddad counted on his fingers. “Or even a trick of the light.”

  “I’m not making this up, Old Man and I don’t have a burn. I saw a deranged woman sitting on the edge of the bridge. She turned to me and grinned.” Jasper scrambled from the wagon.

  Reagan placed a hand on Jasper’s shoulder. “Let’s bring the horses to a gallop, Granddad. I don’t like the look of this storm.”

  “I don’t think this rust bucket can go any faster.” Jasper tugged at his dripping mock turtleneck.

  On Silver, Kelly circled from her position at the front of the pack. “Where’s Jon?” She accepted Spirit’s reins from Scotty.

  “He turned on us.” Scotty’s disgust extended every syllable.

  “Can’t say we didn’t see that one coming.” Kelly removed her floppy hat and wiped drenched blonde hair out of her face.

  “What caused him to suddenly turn?” Barb placed a hand on her hip and frowned. “Jon’s been with y’all since the beginning. Why now?”

  “He was never with us,” Scotty corrected.

  “There has to be a reason he chose now,” Reagan said. “Maybe we asked too many questions?”

  The wind howled as the pitter-patter of rain danced across the support beams of the bridge and collided with the tracks. Annabeth’s eyes followed her sister’s. “Do you think he’s coming for us, even with this storm?”

  “All I know is we’re too exposed on this bridge.” Reagan motioned to Jon’s horse. “Annabeth, ride ahead on Spirit. One less body will help the wagon train move along.” An alternative motive existed – she wanted her little sister saved from the creepy bridge. Something was coming.

  Annabeth patted Mickey on the head before complying. She and Kelly galloped ahead to scope the area.

  “Get back in here Barbara,” Granddad said.

  Barb squeezed inside the third cart splashing next to Dawn and Olivia, who held Jasper’s ski coat over them like an umbrella. Jasper and Meredith filled the middle cart and Granddad perched in the front car with the Scotty dog.

  “The carts are filling with rainwater.” Jasper slapped his sneaker against the standing puddle.

  Once everyone settled, Granddad kicked the horses into another gear and the passengers lurched. The wagon stuck to the right side of the tracks while Scotty and Reagan rode alongside on the left. Thunder rumbled and the reverb pounded in Reagan’s chest. A spark lit underneath the bridge. Wood splintered. A five-foot section of the bridge ripped from underneath them.

  “Bomb!” Scotty urged his horse onward.

  Reagan side-stepped the blast and cleared her horse from danger. Scotty rode a few steps behind. Keeping his horse calm, he vaulted the missing tracks like a showjumper. The wagon raced but the last car caught in the hole. Screams erupted as the third car slipped backward. The draft horses struggled to keep their footing as the wagon collapsed toward the hole.

  Scotty dismounted and reached for the falling car. “Keep it steady, Tucker.”

  “Everyone else, out,” Reagan said.

  The rear wheels of the cart dipped further into the abyss. Barb boosted Dawn as Scotty lifted the librarian to safety. Jasper grabbed his wife’s hand and hauled her into the second car.

  “Kelly, bring me your rope,” Reagan roared from across the bridge.

  Jasper scurried from the second car urging Olivia and Meredith with him.

  “Give me your hand, Barb.” Scotty leaned into the hole as the train continued to slip. Water sloshed over the edge of the hole, sinking the cart. Barb catapulted to the other side, barely managing to keep her grip. The river raged below, waiting to swallow the dangling principal. Scotty sprawled on his belly, extending his frame but Barb couldn’t reach.

  “The rope’s coming, hold on,” Reagan said.

  Scotty pushed to his feet. “She’s slipping.” Without regard for his safety, Scotty eased into the tipped cart. His right arm gripped the side and he reached for Barb with his left. “Give me your hand.” The entire third cart dangled below the hole. Barb switched her grip and latched onto Scotty. “Climb up my shoulders and into the middle cart.”

  “Where’s the rope?” Reagan asked, drifting from the potential fall.

  Kelly and Annabeth secured the horses on the other side before rejoining the wagon. Kelly pitched the rope to Reagan. “What can we do?”

  “Get the Caribou Crew off the bridge.” Reagan tied one end of the rope around the saddle horn and the other in a loop. She tossed the loop to Barb. “Put this under your arms and I’ll pull you up.”

  “Do Scotty first,” she called.

  “No,” he said. “I can hang here all day.”

  Under normal circumstances, the strong baseball player probably could. But with each passing second, the wagon drifted further into the hole. Not t
o mention the pelting rain made it difficult to keep his grip.

  “Are you ready?” Reagan asked Barb.

  “Yes.”

  Reagan nudged Bailey forward as they dragged Barb to safety. She scrambled onto the tracks and dropped the rope to Scotty.

  Chapter 14 – Cliffhanger

  Reagan

  Scotty’s soggy fingers clutched the rusty edge of the mine car. His feet drooped below like the Batman ride at Six Flags but without the security of a seat belt. He attempted to right himself, but each movement swayed the car.

  “Grab the rope,” Reagan said.

  She watched from above as Scotty struggled to reach the lifeline. The wagon slipped another notch and the rope caught in one of the wheels.

  “Let go,” Scotty said.

  The rope tangled wrenching Reagan and her horse. With reluctance, she untied the rope from the saddle horn and let it fall. “Hold tight Scotty. I’ll help Granddad pull from the front.”

  Scotty’s right hand slipped from the car and his body wiggled as he tried to hang on. With a sense of urgency, Reagan clipped her horse to the wagon. Along with the draft horses, they attempted to right the rig.

  “Were not getting anywhere,” Granddad said.

  “But we’re not losing any ground,” Reagan said.

  “It’s too heavy, we’ll never get the third car back.”

  “We have to do something.” Reagan sneaked a peek at Scotty and his death grip. To her surprise, Jasper dangled off the side. He held a makeshift rope fashioned from belts and a backpack.

  “Hold it steady,” Jasper said through the pelting shower. With an amazing amount of strength, Jasper muscled Scotty onto the bridge.

  “My gosh, he pulled him up.” Kelly traversed the final length of the bridge.

  Relived with the results, Reagan shifted to the next problem. “The third cart has to be cut loose.”

  “What about our supplies? Can’t we retrieve it with the other horses?” Kelly asked.

  “We can’t risk hanging on.” Rain licked Grandad’s face, despite his hat. “These guys can’t take much more. We can’t lose our horses.”

  While Kelly and Granddad debated cutting the third car, Jasper and Scotty acted. The car crashed into the raging river and the draft horses found their footing. Along with Reagan’s horse, they towed the train onto the tracks.

  “Scotty, I want to thank you for saving my life. Not too many people would do what you did.” Barb patted his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

  Scotty removed his Rangers cap and fluffed his damp hair. “That was close.” He discarded the makeshift rope. “Quick thinking from Jasper saved the day.”

  “Let’s get out of here,” Granddad said rubbing the horses.

  Reagan rode Bailey to the other side. The Caribou Crew huddled under a tree with Annabeth, Mickey, and the horses.

  “I know everyone’s wet and tired,” Reagan shouted over the never-ending deluge, “but let’s regroup and keep moving until we find shelter.”

  “How long?” Meredith broke into a fit of coughing.

  “I’m not sure.” Reagan studied the dark faces. “We’ll stop at the first safe place we come across.”

  “What about Jon Little?” Annabeth asked. “Is he still after us?”

  Olivia shuttered underneath the tarp strung in the tree. “And what happened to the other shooters?”

  “How about we save the Q and A for when we’re safe?” Kelly asked. “And out of this torrential downpour.”

  Annabeth, Granddad, and Olivia crammed in the first cart while Meredith, Dawn, and Jasper rode the handcar. Reagan, Scotty, and Kelly returned to their horses and Barb opted to ride Jon’s. They traveled the dark tracks for another wet hour, Kelly at the front and Scotty at the rear. Everyone who carried, kept their weapons drawn. On several occasions, Reagan scouted ahead with Barb.

  “You never did say what happened to Andy.” Barb cleared her throat.

  “I suppose I was avoiding the question,” Reagan said. “Duke, one of the Merry Men, appeared at the school and shot Andy. We never saw it coming.”

  Barb covered her mouth. “Andy went off the rails when he lost Mandy. But he didn’t deserve this. And I can’t imagine how Gus will take it.”

  “His son?”

  “Gus has been through so much. He was shot a few days ago, but Nate Campbell of all people saved him.”

  Reagan massaged her stiff neck, slapping the dripping braid out the way. “It doesn’t make sense. The Nate Campbell we came across killed Jasper’s kid, Junior, and tried to do the same to me.”

  “How strange.”

  “It’s like we’re describing Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.” Reagan rung water from her soaked braid. “What is with this weather? Did your group experience torrential downpours like this?”

  “We dealt with several weather anomalies, but no rain.” Barb pointed a pruned finger to a gap in the trees. “Is it another train station?”

  Reagan swiped water from her face and squinted through the night. “It’s too far from the tracks to be a station.”

  “Well whatever it is, I sure hope it’s dry.”

  Reagan and Barb reconnected with the group and described the building. They parked the wagon at the side of the tracks while Reagan, Scotty, and Kelly scouted.

  The trio approached a tawny brick building with two barn-red garage doors. An American flag hung above the door and swayed in the breeze. Without much light to guide them, Reagan stumbled into an old-fashioned church bell positioned on the walkway. “Shh,” she said as the bell emitted a low hum.

  “Way to be stealth,” Scotty whispered.

  They approached the building with weapons drawn. Kelly shined her flashlight and read the sign above the door. “Union Springs Fire Station.”

  “Cool.” The joy spreading across Scotty’s face was akin to a six-year-old boy. He held the door for Reagan to enter. “Think we could get a firetruck running?”

  “Based on our previous experiences, no. But maybe we could get you one of those cool hats they present to kids on tours.”

  “I still have one of those plastic red hats. Both of my brothers destroyed theirs in two seconds flat. I hid mine.” Scotty, the deep thinker, tapped his temple

  The trio completed a sweep of the bottom floor, which consisted of an engine bay, a busted firetruck, gear, a lounge area, an office, and of course a firemen poll. Next, they stomped upstairs to search the top floor. The area was more spacious than the outside implied. The open balcony design overlooked the first floor. Dorms, an office, and storage rooms were positioned on the eastern side of the floor. A kitchen and locker rooms filled the west side.

  “All clear,” Scotty said when he returned from the kitchen. He lobbed Reagan and Kelly each a granny smith apple. “The good news is I found the kitchen’s stocked.” The crunch of Scotty smacking into his apple filled the station.

  “Let’s get our people and rub down the horses.” Reagan scanned the station. “We can take two-person shifts for the night watch. We can post one person at the front entrance and the second upstairs. The panoramic window offers a vantage point for approaching threats.”

  A half-hour later the group collapsed inside, safe from the rain. They finished rubbing down the horses in the engine bay and several people found a change of clothes. Reagan slipped her swollen feet from her soggy boots and relaxed by the fireplace.

  Granddad piled another log to his blaze. “I better start collecting supplies for the ark. Mrs. Pak-man and Annabeth can start collecting the animals two-by-two.”

  “Granddad, you issue the same joke every time it rains,” Annabeth teased.

  “And by the way,” Kelly said. “How about some consistency with the snappy nickname, Tucker. Your prefix switches between Mrs., Miss, and Ms. Am I married, single, or a feminist?”

  “I don’t know what you’re referring to. I always say ‘Miss Pak-man’, like the game.” Granddad hung his plaid shirt to dry and went with a plain white t-shirt. �
��This rain has been pouring for hours without reprieve.”

  Barb skipped the steps with Olivia and Dawn trailing. All three women changed into dry clothes. “I know things have been hectic in the last few days. Even before all y’all traveled cross-country. But now is as good a time as any to talk about what’s happening.” Barb changed into jeans a size too loose and a men’s button-up shirt she tied at the waist.

  “We need answers,” Kelly said hanging her clothes. She temporarily changed into a tank top and sweatpants with access material sweeping the floor. “I’m sick of playing defense with these Merry Men.”

  “It didn’t help we had a mole in our midst,” Meredith croaked, feeling better since arriving at the fire station.

  “We never trusted Jon,” Kelly said.

  “Then why did we let him stay with our group?” Dawn asked.

  “With the dangers we faced, we needed allies,” Granddad said. “We didn’t have the luxury of time.”

  “Jon infiltrating us is in the past.” Reagan waved. “Let’s focus on the future and share information. Barb, can you describe what your people learned?”

  Barb managed the firehouse food supply and distributed energy bars. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t up-to-date on everything when we… er… y’all switched places. But the condensed version is these people shooting at us are called the Merry Men. They were hired by a man named Nottingham, who gave them their cute code names. Jon Little and Robin Sherwood were partners and posed as ATF agents. According to Robin, they weren’t privy to the whole mission. Robin was sick when we found her. But recently, she began to share what she knew. Gilbert Whitehead was the leader of the Merry Men. He stalked us and shot a kid named Gus. Tom and Robin pursued him and killed him in a firefight. She said there were others, but I didn’t hear how many.”

  “Some manic took shots at us too.” Jasper flopped on the couch. “And I’m not talking about the mild variety at the train station.”

  “The shooter at the train station was likely Andy. He was carrying a handgun,” Reagan said.