by Ray Wench
Lynn nodded. “Yes. Or we can turn around and find another route to the marina. I'm open to other suggestions.”
Tara said, “We can send a few people back and around to try and flank them. If we can capture them without a fight, that would be best.”
“I agree,” said Mel.
“But it may take more time than the others have.”
“Why?” said Mel. “Do you think they're eating them or something? If they're still alive, they'd be holding them for whatever reason. If they're dead, the time won't matter.”
“I vote we do it the safe way,” said Tara.
“I second,” Mel added.
Lynn said, “All right. But let's see if we can capture one of them to avoid a gunfight. Maybe we can get answers without bloodshed.”
“Okay, I'll handle it,” said Tara. She moved off to call her troops around her. Lynn leaned against the SUV, shoved her hands into her jeans pockets and stared at the ground. Thinking they might need the extra man and firepower, the idea to call for help from the nearby military camp had been a last-second thought. She hoped it wasn’t a mistake.
Lynn couldn't help but think her way was faster, but she had to admit to feeling relief at not having to be the one who tested whether the symbolism of a white flag still held any meaning.
She turned her head to watch as Tara laid out her plan to her men. She should go and take part in the meeting, but in truth wasn't up to the task mentally. Her fear and emotions were running too high. Tara would do a better job.
Her mind wandered back a few short weeks. Bobby and Becca had rescued Tara, Mel and Caryn and brought them into the community. Tara had been severely wounded, but Doc had saved her. Mel had been instrumental in the rescue of some of their community members and Caryn had been a godsend around the house, taking much of the daily grind and burden of running the household upon her shoulders.
Tara and Mel had gone to stay on the base. Although Tara had been military before the event, Mel hadn't. She had never officially enlisted, but General West was so happy to have any bodies, he didn't push her. She trained with everyone else but didn't wear the uniform. How appropriate that those two be present to rescue Bobby and Becca. A shiver ran through her. If they were alive to rescue.
Ten minutes later, Tara and company loaded into their SUV. “I'm leaving Private Ordway to man the .50 cal.” All businesslike, Tara talked to Lynn like a subordinate. “Shift one of your people to the jeep to act as driver. Keep your radio close and listen for me to give the word. I'll either say, 'safe,' 'attack,' or 'run.' Do not question or hesitate – just do it. Understood?”
“Yes.”
Tara gave a quick salute. Lynn stopped an automatic response to return it. Ready to move, Lynn approached the driver side, patted Mel's arm and said to everyone inside. “Be safe.”
“Post a lookout down the road so they don't sneak up on you,” Tara said. “I'll call for a report before we make a move. It may take a while to find a route to take us there. Be patient.”
Lynn didn't reply. She stepped away and Mel accelerated back the way they came. Lynn rubbed her temples again in an attempt to ease away the tension. Would the danger ever end?
Twenty-Six
“There's the marina,” Bobby said, pointing unnecessarily. He slid forward in his seat like an excited child happy to have reached his destination. A few miles back they'd changed seats so Bobby and Becca could focus on the landscape. Lincoln slowed to make the turn, then crept along the dirt road. Bobby’s eyes swept the ground but, except for birds, saw nothing moving.
Becca directed Lincoln off the road toward the copse of trees they’d hidden in before. At the tree line, Bobby hopped out and guided him forward until much of the vehicle was out of sight from the road. Becca opened her door and turned to look in the back. Frowning, she looked at Drew. His head was back and his eyes were closed.
“Drew, we're heading out. You want to stay or go?”
He opened his eyes and shook his head. That must have been a mistake because he groaned and closed his eyes again.
“We'll scout out the area,” she said. “You stay here and guard the vehicle.” She thought his reply was, “Okay.” She slid out and joined Lincoln and Bobby.
“Lincoln said, “I haven't been here, so you two lead the way.”
Bobby led the way through the trees toward the channel. A few minutes later they arrived at the northern tree line. They crouched and studied the area. The marina was empty of people. The two boats that collided were still in a pile on one side of the channel, with no bodies or signs of a struggle evident.
Bobby pointed. “Let's make our way around the shore in that direction. That way we can keep to the cover of the trees.” He strode off without waiting for a response.
For the next ten minutes, they cut a trail through the dense undergrowth until they reached the rocky shore of Lake Erie. From there they each used binoculars to scan the water. Though the sky was beginning to lighten on the horizon, it was still dark enough to inhibit defining details on the water.
“I can't see a damn thing,” Lincoln said.
“Yeah, this isn't getting us anywhere,” said Becca. “Maybe we should take a boat out on the lake.”
Lincoln hesitated. “Why don't we wait a few more minutes for the sun to come up enough to see? Once we know what's out there, we can decide what to do.”
“I hate waiting,” said Becca.
“Yeah, but he's right. Let's give it a few more minutes.”
Bobby kept his glasses pointed east, while Lincoln scanned west. Becca paced incessantly between the two. In five minutes the difference in the light was evident. “There's nothing at all to the east.”
“I think I've got something large to the west.” He pointed. “Out that way. Near the middle of the lake.
Becca and Bobby trained their binoculars on a path with his.
“Yeah,” said Bobby. “It's definitely a ship.”
“Now what?” queried Becca. We need a boat to get out there, but it's not like we can sneak up on them in a surprise attack.”
“Even if we could surprise them, sis, there's probably so many of them we wouldn't get far. We have to think this through. It won't do Dad any good if we get captured too.”
“Now hold on a second, you two. We don't even know for sure he's on that ship. Seems to me the first thing we have to do is determine where he is.”
“And how do we do that?” Becca asked, her natural sarcasm coming out full force. “It's not like we can ask anyone, or … or check security cameras, or something.”
“Becca, settle down,” said Bobby.
“Didn't anyone ever tell you that ordering a woman to settle down when she's upset is like adding fuel to the fire? It's only gonna make me blaze hotter.”
Lincoln muttered, “Even I knew that one.”
“Let's try to decide our best course of action,” Bobby said in an even voice so as not to incite his sister further.
Becca exhaled a loud breath. “Okay. Let's decide. But while you're doing that, let's go find a boat to use so when you come to the obvious conclusion that we have to go out there, we're at least ready.”
“You know, Becca,” Lincoln said, “I like you. I do. But sometimes your intensity is so severe it impedes intelligent thought and hinders progress.”
“Is that like ‘be part of the solution and not part of the problem’?”
“Sounds like to me he just told you to calm down,” said Bobby.
Lincoln cleared his throat. “Yeah, either thing.”
“All right, give me some suggestions I can live with.”
“Just in case, let's go find a boat,” Lincoln said. Becca threw her arms into the air.
“Kiss ass,” Bobby told him.
“Yeah, kiss mine,” was his response.
They made their way back to the marina and searched through the boats for one that had keys. They'd made it through about a third before Lincoln said, “This is crazy. No one keeps their
keys on board. Don't either one of you hoodlums know how to hot wire a boat?”
“Is it the same as a car?” Becca said.
“Why doesn't it surprise me that you'd be the one to respond?”
“Hey, this one has the keys in the ignition,” Bobby shouted.
The engine sputtered but started on the second try. “We've got about half a tank of gas. Anyone know how far that gets us?”
“Isn't there a gauge that tells you how many miles it can go?” Lincoln asked.
“Nope,” Bobby answered. “It's not like a car.”
“Well, go until the gauge shows one-quarter, then we know we've still got enough gas to get back,” said Lincoln.
“Good idea.”
Becca said, “Or, we could go to the pump over there and fill up.”
They looked where she pointed. Lincoln shrugged. “Or we could go fill up over there.”
Bobby shook his head.
“What? When she's right, she's right.”
Bobby made kiss lips at him as they cast off.
“Now, you see there? That's the exact reason why I didn't want to go fishing with you guys in the first place. You two are extremely abusive.”
“You played football?” Bobby asked sarcastically.
“Yeah, toughen up, pansy,” added Becca.
“You're lucky I like your dad. I wouldn't put up with this shit for anyone else.”
They reached the gassing dock, but the pump needed encouragement to give up its fuel. They found a generator hooked up to the pump. “Someone's been here,” Becca said.
They filled up and rode out onto the lake. The sun was a quarter way up over the horizon, offering enough light to see the shape of the freighter.
“Now that we've gone this far, maybe we should have sort of plan before we take on an entire fleet,” Lincoln said.
“I'm going to move along the coast parallel to the ship while we think. Maybe, if we stay close and move slow, they won't notice us,” said Bobby.
“Do whatever you need to keep the ship in sight, but getting closer is stupid unless we have a plan,” Lincoln said.
“Well,” Becca said, “stop whining and start thinking.”
“Hey, guys,” said Bobby, “it looks like there's something going on near the shore ahead of us.”
The three crowded together at the wheel. Lincoln and Becca focused their glasses. “Ah, Bobby,” Lincoln said. “I think maybe we should pull in someplace before we get spotted.”
Bobby scanned the coast ahead and looked behind. The distance for safety in either direction was a toss-up.
“I count eight boats,” said Becca. She lowered the glasses and looked at her brother. “You think maybe they're looking for Dad?”
“Don't know, sis. But it'd be just like him to piss them off enough to come after him.”
“Yeah.”
He aimed toward a small cove.
Twenty-Seven
Elijah tugged on the rope to ensure they were snug around Mark's wrist. “I apologize for this, but it's for everyone's safety until we decide what to do with you. I don't think you're here to do us harm, but ...” he shrugged. “So much has changed over the past few months, we never know who to trust.”
A man he had not seen before burst into the small opening. Elijah went to speak with him. Mark's gaze shifted to take in his surroundings. Morning light was trying to force its way through the branches. The man named Paul, stood ten feet away watching Mark, his weapon not aimed, but ready.
Dear Darlene sat on a rock sharpening his knife, her eyes boring a hole through his face, right about where he knew she wanted to plunge the blade. The other man stood on the outskirts of the clearing, alternating his gaze from in the circle, to outside it.
Whatever was discussed, the look on Elijah's face said it was serious. “We have to move. The raiders have landed several boats and are searching, I presume for our guests.”
Darlene made a sound. “Guests, my ass.”
Elijah ignored her.
“Manny, take the lead. Darlene, take Kendra. Paul and Donny cover our backs. Let's move.” The group moved out fast, as though they'd done it many times before. Elijah slid next to Mark, guided his elbow to his spot in line and released him.
“Elijah, they're coming for me. Cut me free.”
“No.”
“If they attack, I can help defend.”
“No.”
“Trust your own judgment. I'm not going to hurt you.”
“You put a knife to Darlene's throat. If I cut you loose, I'd have an open rebellion on my hands. I can't afford that.”
“Let me go to fend for myself. I can lead them away from you.”
“We won't have to worry about confronting them if we hurry, and you keep your voice down.”
From ahead, Darlene turned and said, “Don't let him talk you into anything.”
Elijah gave Mark a look as if to say, “See, told you.”
“And if he's making too much noise, I can always cut out his tongue,” she offered.
They moved with stealth through the trees and brush. Not more than five minutes later, a gunshot broke the silence. Mark ducked instinctively and turned. The shot had come from behind. After a pause, several other shots followed, shouting reached them from a multitude of directions.
“Go! Go! Go!” Elijah looked at Mark. “If you know what's good for you, you will follow them to safety.” With that, he spun to help Donny and Paul protect the rear.
Mark watched the man disappear behind trees and brush, then looked toward the end of the line. Darlene had stopped twenty feet away and stared at him, as if daring him to run. Her hand held a gun, her fingers flexing and tightening on the grip. Mark decided to follow.
The next flurry of shots was closer and more intense. As he walked, Mark tugged on his binds. Whenever Darlene looked to the front, he sank his teeth into the knot and ripped. As the battle heated up behind them, the knot loosened. He worked an end free. The ropes gave, but not quite enough. Running steps behind him made him stop and look, ready to dart away if necessary.
Paul and Elijah came running, dragging Donny's bloody body with them. In the distance, Mark spotted a speck of color moving through the trees. The raiders were in pursuit and close. Mark sank his teeth into the second of the three knots and with determined pulls had it nearly undone by the time Elijah and Paul drew even with him. Mark stepped in front of them and squatted. “Put him over my shoulder.”
The men paused. “Hurry! It'll free your hands up to shoot.” He crouched. They lifted Donny, who Mark was fairly certain was dead. He extended his arms out for the wounded man’s legs to slide inside them. He shouldered the weight and stood erect, clamping his right arm against the back of Donny’s thighs to hold him in place. He met Elijah's eyes and nodded. The two defenders looked for defensive positions as Mark turned to follow the line.
Seconds later the gun battle re-engaged.
Though awkward, Mark continued to put the rope to his mouth. Frustration at the slowness of the process left him swearing under his breath. He kept Darlene and Kendra in sight. The second knot gave way. Losing the binds was easy from there. He pulled his hands apart and the rope slid off his wrists, falling to the forest floor.
Gripping the back of Donny's legs with one hand, Mark was able to move faster. Movement to his right showed the pursuit had flanked them. Two men had reached a position level with Darlene, but the woman had yet to see them.
Mark pushed harder closing the gap. “Darlene!” he shouted. The woman spun around glaring, hatred pouring from her eyes. He pointed. “To the right.” She either didn't hear him or refused to avert her gaze. “Look!” he insisted. Her eyes narrowed and she lifted her handgun aiming it straight at his chest. The shot missed; her not him. The two flanking gunmen chose that moment to ambush them.
Mark rushed behind a tree and set Donny down. He risked a quick peek, but Darlene was not in sight. Had she been hit? He needed a weapon. A shot from an unseen location
somewhere near the front of the line gave Mark pause while thinking of his next move. Had Manny come back to help or was he under attack as well? Mark glanced around the trees behind him, first looking for other assailants, then searched for an escape route.
If any raiders were there, Mark couldn’t see them. He darted away from the fight, running from tree to tree. No shots chased him. Out of sight from the attackers, he circled around. Gunshots filled the woods from left and right. He made his way between the two battles, attempting to get behind the raiders pinning Darlene and Kendra down.
He thought he'd gone undetected. He stopped and crouched to get his bearings. To the right and behind him, only sporadic fire came from Elijah and Paul. To the left, a steady cadence told him the defense was still alive. Moving with more caution, he moved diagonally away from the two shooters to come up behind them. He found them twenty yards farther on. He stopped to analyze their position and his chances of taking them both on without getting shot. They didn't seem good.
One man used hand signals to direct his partner to a new position. Mark moved as that man did, but trying not to make noise slowed him. He had no idea of their condition or rounds available to them, but if he didn't hurry, Manny and Darlene were in trouble.
The moving shooter disappeared. Mark couldn't be sure if he’d ducked into a new firing position or kept going. Regardless, he had to take out one before he could tackle the second. Keeping low, he advanced toward the stationary gunman. He stopped and moved and stopped and moved. The last five yards would be the hardest. If the shooter heard him, he'd have ample warning to turn and shoot him.
Mark got down on all fours to take advantage of the thick foliage that lined the forest floor. The man fired several more times. Mark prayed none of the rounds found his captors. He crawled to within three yards of the shooter, when the man stood and moved to his right.
Damn! Mark scrambled to his feet and ran at the man. His best and perhaps only chance was to move when his prey did.
The man made a sudden drop to the ground, catching Mark by surprise. Unable to cover his pursuit, he launched at the gunman as he spun to face Mark. Shock covered the raider's face seeing Mark, in full animal mode, rushing at him. He brought his gun up and backed away. Mark felt the pain long before the bullet was fired.