The shot came from south of their camp. In the forest, where the trees tended to muffle the sound of a gunshot, it was hard to tell how far.
But the forest floor was mostly dirt, Davis’ tracks easy to spot.
Parker would lose them after a couple of minutes when the ground turned rocky, but at least he knew what general direction Davis had gone in.
He moved close to the ground, a few feet at a time.
If he knew the shot wasn’t made in anger, he’d have called out to Davis. Asking him where he was and whether he was okay.
But there was a very good possibility Davis was shot, by men who were still close.
To call out would be giving himself away and signing his own death warrant.
He knew better.
It took him almost an hour to find the body. By that time the flies were already filling Davis’ open mouth and nostrils, already laying their eggs in what remained of his brain.
“Damn it.”
There was no longer a doubt.
They were under assault. The tables had been turned on them.
Parker wished he had a radio. It was one advantage the Dykes had over them. The Dykes, should they choose to split up at some point, could coordinate their movements based on what they could see with two sets of eyes at two different places.
At this point in their operation, though, they were still together.
They’d taken off through the woods after they shot Davis, expecting his cronies to come running to his aid.
That never happened and they wondered why.
It was possible they were confused. That they’d never investigated a gunshot in the forest before, and didn’t know how the sound could be distorted by heavy trees.
Maybe they went in the wrong direction.
Or maybe they didn’t go at all.
The brothers knew where the enemy camp was, almost directly across the road and a hundred yards away from the pillbox, hidden just inside the tree line.
They made their way there, using a series of washes and ravines they knew well from having hunted the area for many years.
They’d hoped by the time they got to the camp it would be minimally manned.
They’d hoped that many or most of the enemy would be with the man they shot, or on their way there, to help.
It turned out the camp was still fully manned.
They couldn’t see everybody from their higher vantage point on a bluff overlooking the area.
But they could see two of the men, hunkered down behind thick trees and looking off in another direction.
Jason said, “I’ve got a clean shot at red plaid shirt. Can you get black hoodie guy?”
“Yep. Count off when you’re ready.”
A few seconds ticked by, then Jason said, “Three… two… one… fire.”
Simultaneously two of Parker’s men went down, both with mortal wounds to their chests.
The brothers had a choice. They could hang around to pick off anyone who came to the aid of the men they’d shot.
But staying around put themselves at danger too. They might not try to save their buddies. They might try to outflank Jason and Jacob instead.
It was Jason who made the decision.
“Let’s go,” he said.
The pair disappeared back up the wash. They’d hide out for the rest of the day and make plans for their next attack.
Chapter 13
The Dykes weren’t the only ones on the move.
A couple of Manson’s men were close enough to the victims to see them drop.
Instead of going to help, though, they scattered.
The Dykes had made the right choice. Had they waited for secondary targets to come into their sight line they’d have wasted their time.
The two men who saw the carnage and took off caused the rest of their gang to scatter as well.
Only Parker kept his head. His men ran willy-nilly through the woods, in as many directions as there were men.
Without radios it would take hours to round them all up again.
He shook his head and cursed. These were the men he relied on to have his back. These were the men he was going into combat with.
Damn the luck.
Over the next hour he made his way back to Manson’s position.
Manson had finished installing the generator and was working on the starter.
“Well, what happened? If those morons are having target practice I’ll line them up and shoot them all myself.”
“They came under attack. We lost three men.”
Manson’s jaw dropped. He stood up and slung his wrench fifty feet into the woods.
“Damn it!”
Parker had known him long enough to let the rage subside on its own. To speak was to risk Manson turning his wrath on Parker.
After he cursed a blue streak Scarface asked, “How many were there?”
“I don’t know. They got away.”
“They got away? How in hell did they get away? I thought you were a combat veteran! Why didn’t you go after them?”
“I fully plan to. But you needed to know this cakewalk of yours has turned into something different.”
“Where are the men?”
“As close as I can tell, all over the damn place. Some of them may not stop running ‘til they get to Canada.”
“Holy shit! This was supposed to be an easy operation.”
“There’s no such thing as an easy operation when shooting is involved.”
“What would you suggest?”
“As I see it, we have two options. I can go after them. Alone. With none of our yahoos to slow me down or give away my position. There are at least two of them. The shots were almost simultaneous. Too close together to come from the same gun.
“I can track them and use the same hit and run tactics they’re using on us.
“Or…”
“Or what?”
“Or we can play it safe. I can round our men up. It’ll take hours. And we may lose some more of them while I’m looking.
“Once we regroup I can move the camp to a better location. You set up that camp where it was so we could see their bunker. But there are much better locations farther back in the woods. Places that are more secluded. On rockier ground. On higher ground. With lookout positions.
“Your choice, boss.”
Manson thought about it for a moment. Then he said, “Round them up. Move them to a new camp. It’s early-afternoon, that’ll probably take you the rest of the day. Benny and I will stay here and finish this job.
“The dozer should be ready to go by thirteen hundred tomorrow. We’ll camp here.
“Gather the troops and find a safe place for them to camp for the night. Then get them here by thirteen hundred. We’ll move in on them then.
“Got it.”
Parker started to move off, and it occurred to Manson he hadn’t asked which of his men were killed.
“Hey Parker?”
“Yes?”
“Who bought it?”
“Gwinnett, Collier and Davis.”
Manson winced when he heard “Davis.”
“You know, losing a couple isn’t necessarily a bad thing. To be honest, we’ve been carrying a little extra baggage. I hate to lose Davis, though.”
“Agreed. He was a good man.”
“Right now I figure the odds are still in our favor. We can’t afford to lose any more though. We don’t want the advantage to shift their way.”
Parker started to say something but thought better of it.
Instead he turned and disappeared into the woods.
Jacob and Jason were still on the other side of the road which divided Manson’s two groups.
For four hours they stayed low, speaking in whispers, discussing various options.
They radioed in to the bunker to report their status, but keeping their location a secret.
“Good guys three, bad guys zero.”
In the bunker, Mason breathed a sigh of re
lief. Lindsey, at his side, did likewise. They’d heard the shots and been worried sick about what they might mean.
Now they could relax a bit, but not totally.
Not as long as Jason and Jacob were still out there.
“Should we split up, cover more ground that way?” Jason asked of his brother.
“No. Too much chance of us shooting each other. Or one of us being outnumbered. We’ve stayed together so far and don’t seem to be doing too bad. Why mess with success?”
They wanted to strike one more time before nightfall.
They worked their way through the ravines and washes, considering those their highways in the woods, until they were close to the enemy camp again, but on the opposite side.
The terrain was a bit higher here, and they commanded a much better view.
Enough to see that the camp had been deserted.
Not only that, but the bad guys had bugged out so quickly they left most of their equipment behind.
Jacob’s radio pinged once in his ear.
Once he determined there were no bad guys within earshot, he answered it.
“Go ahead.”
Mason said, “Just wondering if you guys were going to stay out another night.”
“We were wondering just that. We’re overlooking their camp now, and it looks like they’ve all bugged out.”
“Any idea whether they’ve left the area, or just moved camp?”
“If they moved camp they did a crummy job. Half their tents and sleeping bags are still here.”
“They must have turned tail and run. Why don’t y’all return to base and get a good night’s sleep? We’ll decide tomorrow whether to go back out again.”
Chapter 14
In the Dykes’ bunker there was an uneasy feeling.
The brothers had drawn first blood. Indications were that they’d repelled the planned assault and sent the aggressors running.
But it didn’t feel that way.
Karen put her children to bed and stuck her head into Sarah’s cubicle.
“You ready to go on duty?”
“Yes. But we’re twenty minutes early.”
“I know. But Misty has been driving me crazy. She’s a sweet baby, but I’d rather give her back to her mama, even if I have to pull guard duty to do it.”
Kara was Jacob’s girlfriend-slash-wife. They considered themselves married, but understood it wasn’t really legal, since there was no preacher to do the honors after the world went to hell. Mason set up a ceremony for them in the bunker and pretended to be a pastor for the event.
Misty was the couple’s baby, who was in the process of teething and making everyone feel her misery.
The other women in the group took turns babysitting whenever it was Kara’s turn to pull guard duty.
As for Kara, she looked at her time in the pillbox as a welcome respite.
Karen climbed the ladder from the bunker to the pillbox and stuck her head inside.
“You guys ready for some relief?”
Kara checked her watch and said, “It’s not time yet.”
Karen smiled and replied, “Look upon it as a gift.”
“It’s only a gift if Misty is asleep.”
“Fat chance, bub.”
“Oh, man…”
As was their procedure, Karen entered the pillbox and Kara left. Then Sarah climbed up and Mason left.
Any security expert will verify shift change is one of the most vulnerable times for any watch operation. If not done right, eyes are turned or posts are left temporarily unmanned.
This way there were always two people in the pillbox, and four eyes watching the outside.
Two on the wood line and two on the monitors.
“Did we miss anything good?”
“Not a thing. It’s quiet as can be out there. I guess the guys ran them off good. I hope they’re still running.”
It wasn’t until they were alone in the box a few minutes later that Sarah admitted something to her sister.
“I don’t know. I know things are looking good and all. But I just have an uneasy feeling.”
“You too?”
“Yes. I just can’t shake the feeling that this thing isn’t over with.”
“Do you remember the premonitions that Aunt Edna used to have?”
“Oh, God, yes. I remember every time we went to Grandma’s for Christmas. We’d all be playing in the den with our new dolls and stuff and mom and dad would be in the kitchen with the rest of the adults…”
Karen finished her sentence for her.
“…talking about all the predictions Aunt Edna made that came true.”
“Well, she wasn’t always right. I mean, she predicted Uncle David was going to die that year when we were in junior high school and he didn’t.”
“No, but he came down with pneumonia that year and spent two months in the hospital. He came close.
“And Aunt Edna predicted her own death. How eerie was that?”
“Do you ever have premonitions?”
Sarah drew silent for a moment.
“Sometimes. But I don’t like to talk about them because Dave makes fun of me.”
“Screw Dave.”
Sarah chuckled.
“I wish.”
“Oh, shut up. Do your premonitions come true?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes not. Often enough to make me scared. But enough are wrong for me not to count on them.”
“Well, let’s hope we’re both wrong this time. We’ve been through enough pain and misery lately.”
“Amen to that.”
As the pair spoke Parker and his men crept through the forest toward high ground and a better campsite.
He had them in combat patrol formation: staggered and close to the ground and moving a bit at a time.
Parker himself was on point because… well, nobody else had ever led a group of men on combat patrol before.
They didn’t know the basics: eyes and ears open. They didn’t know to use all their senses, even the sense of smell to determine whether there was anyone else out there.
It took forever.
But the men didn’t complain. They trusted Parker’s abilities to get them where they needed to go.
They made it to the site around eighteen hundred hours.
An hour or so before sunset.
“Set up camp, high threat conditions,” Parker said. “Bed down immediately unless I tag you for guard duty. No talking, no smoking, if you need to take a crap do it now and get your ass right back here.
“Once you’re in your bag you’re in for the night. If I so much as hear a whisper I’ll strangle you myself.
“Wait a minute. Where’s Bailey?”
“He lit out. He told Peterson and Santos he didn’t sign up for this. Apparently he was close enough to Brock to see him get blown away. I wish they’d shot the son of a bitch.”
“If they’d shot him they’d have pinpointed their location to the other side. It’s better to let him go. If the fight’s not in him the time to find out isn’t in the heat of battle.”
“Yeah, I suppose. John, can we take that bunker with eight men?”
“Hell, if Manson gets that dozer running we can take it with half that.”
Chapter 15
It was just a stroke of luck that Dave saw it at all.
Or maybe it was karma doing him a favor.
As they slowly rode along Interstate 15 toward the Arizona border he was thinking back to his trip west a few days before.
He was trying to remember where he was when they stole his Explorer.
He knew it was before he stumbled across the roadside brothel. For he was already on a bicycle when he got to that point.
They’d passed the brothel on the return trip not long before.
Beth commented on all the colorful tents and how happy everyone seemed to be.
She wanted to stop see if there were any children she could play with.
And she was none too pleased with Da
ve when he denied her request with no explanation.
A few miles farther east he saw the Swenson Hardware truck where he’d gotten the bike.
After a few more miles he caught, in the corner of his eye, a guard rail which had been terribly twisted, plowed through by a vehicle at fairly high speed.
In the old days Dave had traveled the country fairly frequently, either for pleasure or on business for the Marine Corps.
He remembered that the highway departments did a very good job back then in finding and repairing bridges and guardrails quickly after they were wrecked.
Department of Transportation highway crews roamed the highways seven days a week looking for such damage.
They were typically Johnny-on-the-spot.
If they couldn’t make repairs immediately they placed warning signs and markers all around the damage, to let other drivers know it was there.
This guard rail had no such markers or warning signs.
That struck Dave as peculiar. Whatever drove through the guard rail and into the ravine below, it must have happened in the hours just before the power went out.
Or maybe after.
He stopped the rig and set the brake, then hopped down.
Beth, sitting beside him, asked, “Where are you going, Daddy? We just stopped for a break not long ago.”
“I know, honey. I’ll be right back.”
He inspected the shattered wreckage the vehicle left behind on the highway when it hit the rail. It was mostly in small pieces, difficult to identify.
He did pick up a shattered and twisted headlight, though.
It was once a rectangle shape, although now it more resembled a pretzel. He turned it over and eyed it closely.
It looked suspiciously like it came from a Ford Explorer.
He said to himself, “No. Seriously?”
He peered over the edge of the highway and saw nothing but trees below.
Far, far below.
He walked back along the highway for about fifty feet or so.
Still nothing but trees.
He walked up the highway fifty feet beyond the twisted rail.
This time he was able to see, two hundred feet below the roadway, a torn up mess that used to be a black Explorer.
His black Explorer.
Of course, it would be foolish to get his hopes up.
A Tearful Reunion Page 6