Outlaws of the Midwest | Book 3 | Havoc Endures

by Hunt, Jack

  “Why?”

  “The PLA, your mother, he wouldn’t say but he was adamant and in no condition to… well… you’ll see.”

  He wouldn’t elaborate any further but said his father would be able to explain. Miles felt like he was in a dream as they made their way on the final leg of the journey passing through a lush forest, passing by Key West Campground, and making their way around a series of winding roads and past a lodge-style resort. As they got closer, Miles noticed at least twenty other people. When asked who they were, Charlie said they were old militia buddies, and families seeking shelter from the war. Since the war had started no one from the PLA had shown up there, leading them to believe it was safe, an unwanted location surrounded by forest and a lake full of fish. It was a discreet location, and they planned to keep it that way.

  Caleb, who was driving, pulled the truck around the circular driveway outside a large two-story home. After getting out, and thanking them for the ride, Charlie led them up to the house. Tex placed a hand on Miles’ shoulder and squeezed it. “I’ll wait outside. Go easy on him.”

  He nodded. No sooner had he entered than he heard laughter.

  It was unmistakable. Miles pinched himself just in case he was dreaming. Charlie led him down a narrow corridor through a kitchen and up to a set of French doors. Charlie pulled back the doors and poked his head out. “I have a guest to see you.”

  Miles ambled out, and the moment he stepped into view, his father squinted then his eyes widened. His hair was longer, gray, hanging down the side of his face, his eyes sunken, with more lines at the corners than he could remember. “Miles?”

  There was a dark-haired woman with high cheekbones, wearing jeans and a black T-shirt, beside him. She glanced his way and then said to his father that she would be back later. She smiled at him. As she stepped out of the way that’s when he noticed that his father was in a wheelchair. He stood there unsure of what to do or even say.

  Charlie went inside and closed the door behind him, leaving them alone.

  Miles was the first to speak. “You know, I often wondered what I would say to you if I saw you again.”

  There was a long pause.

  “And?”

  “My mind is blank.”

  “I wanted to come home, Miles. I did but…” He lifted the blanket draped around his legs and that’s when Miles saw that he was wearing prosthetics. Both of his legs were gone from the knee down. “I spent a year with medics and after getting out I heard reports of Camdenton being taken by the PLA and…”

  “And…?”

  His father brought a hand up to his face. “It’s complicated.”

  “So complicated you couldn’t send someone to tell me or mother that you were alive? We had a funeral for you. I had to hold her up even though I wanted to collapse myself.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you?” he shot back, feeling his anger rising. “You don’t know the first thing about what I have been through over the past five years. I waited for you. It destroyed us. Now mother is dead. The PLA hung her. Did you know that?”

  He looked back up at him and his eyes closed tightly.

  “Did you know I nearly died multiple times trying to bring down the PLA, seeking vengeance for your death, for mother’s, for the residents of Camdenton?” He shook his head.

  “I heard about that. I’m proud of you, son.”

  “Proud?” Miles scoffed. “I don’t understand. Why?”

  His father took a deep breath and released it then ran his hands over his thighs.

  When he didn’t reply, Miles swept back his jacket and placed a hand on his hip then shook his head. “You know what. Forget it. It doesn’t matter. Demar is dead. August thinks I killed him and somehow he knows you’re alive. He’s coming for you to get back at me. I just thought you should know.” Miles turned to leave, not wanting to look at him. All these years had passed. He would have given anything to see him again and now he wished he was still dead, at least that way his memory wouldn’t be marred by secrets.

  “Miles. Wait.”

  “Why?”

  “I want you to stay.”

  “Do you?” He paused. “Give me one good reason why you didn’t come back?”

  “Demar told me something when we were on the front lines. Something that confirmed what your mother had told me.”

  Miles sighed as he changed the subject.

  “I just couldn’t return.”

  “Why not?”

  Either he was struggling to answer or was reluctant. “Forget it.” He turned to walk away.

  “Miles! August is your half-brother.”

  14

  Miles never saw it coming. Astonishment would have been an understatement. He was getting used to hearing lies, and even though this came from his father, he couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what it was — a means of covering up for his own shortcomings. He glanced at the dark-haired woman who was standing in the kitchen and was curious about who she was. Had he left for her? Miles stepped back into the sunroom with an incredulous expression. Without being asked to sit, Miles pulled up a chair. He wanted answers. Something solid, real, something that made sense.

  “That’s impossible. For starters, August and I are the same age.”

  “No, he’s a year and a half older than you.”

  When they were kids, everyone always said he looked like a grown man because of his stature, but to think that this was the reason why put things in perspective. Still, he was unable to accept what he was hearing as to do so would mean seeing his mother in a whole new light. He had worshipped the ground she walked on. She wasn’t the kind of woman to keep secrets. Was she?

  His father sighed and stared out the window at the water. “Demar and I were friends since we were youngsters. He always had an eye for your mother and if I was honest, she did for him. For whatever reason, she chose to marry me. Not long after Demar’s wife passed away — you know, Cylia — Demar spent more time with us. We’d have him over for dinner, he stayed with us for a while. It was mostly to help him through the grieving process as he’d talked of taking his life. At some point in that time, while I was out of the picture, the two of them got close, a little too close. A few months later, your mother told me she was pregnant. Like any father, I was ecstatic.”

  “Then she told you?”

  “No. I thought it was mine. She never said anything.” He ran a hand through his unruly long hair. “She carried August to full term but sometime in that ninth month when I was across the country visiting family she told me she’d had a stillbirth. To shield me from the pain of it all, the baby was removed. Of course, I returned immediately to console her and be with her through the grief. What I didn’t know is she’d given birth to a healthy seven-pound baby boy, who she’d named August. To cover it up, Demar said he’d been seeing a woman. I hadn’t met her. He’d told me she was pregnant and wanted to get an abortion but instead of doing that he said he would raise the child.”

  “August.”

  “Exactly. Except for that story about seeing a woman. That was your mother.”

  “And you never put the timing of the two together?”

  “Why would I? He was my friend. I was busy with work, traveling.” He groaned. “I didn’t know how your mother felt toward Demar. I never imagined he would cross the line and I didn’t know she gave birth to a living child. They hid their relationship from me.” He reached for a mug of coffee and took a sip. “Unbeknownst to me, your mother cut off ties with Demar after the birth, and well, you were born a year and a half later.”

  Miles struggled to believe him.

  “Then when did you learn about this?” he asked.

  “A few days before I went away to the front lines.”

  “What? Why did she wait until then?”

  “I guess she figured I wouldn’t be returning. I mean, few did, right?”

  Miles let the news sink in. He felt like he was in a nightmare. All these years.

  “
Are you sure?”

  “Demar admitted to it when we were out on the front lines.”

  There was a long pause before Miles spoke again. It was as if his father knew it was a lot for him to swallow and didn’t want to pile it all on him at once. “Demar told me that you tried to save a stranger caught in the hot zone and that he was meant to cover you but instead he curled into a fetal position out of fear as bombs erupted around him. Is there any truth to that?”

  He snorted. “So that was his story.” His father shook his head.

  “That’s not the truth?”

  “No, Miles. I mean, it’s partially correct. I did try to save someone but it wasn’t a stranger. It was Demar.” There was a long beat as his father looked away, pain masking his face. “Demar curled up, that part is correct and he would have died out there, had it not been for me. We’d been battling the PLA for several hours when he entered this building. There was an explosion and some of it collapsed. I rushed in to help and found him stuck under a lot of debris. I pulled him out and we were making a run for it when another explosion hit and debris came down on me.” He stopped for a second, reliving it in his mind. “Demar could have pulled me out but instead he looked back and chose to run. He left me there. Eventually, I passed out from the pain and when I awoke, I was in a medical bay. I never saw Demar after that. I lost both of my legs that day.”

  “He admitted to leaving you.”

  “But he didn’t tell you the whole truth.”

  They sat there for a moment and he felt his father’s pain. It must have crushed him to know that not only had his wife cheated but that she had given birth to a child and then lied to cover it up. Then, to add insult to injury, he risked his life to save the same friend only to be left behind by him.

  “He knew what he was doing, Miles. He saw his opportunity. He must have figured if I didn’t come home he could pick up where he left off with your mother.” He lifted his eyes and met Miles’. “Did he?”

  “If he did, he hid it well. I never saw him come around. I just know that mom was devastated. Losing you broke something in her. Why didn’t you just come home?”

  “To what? Both of my legs were gone. I would have had to face Demar and your mother, and you…” He shook his head and punched his thighs. “I struggled for years to accept this. To accept feeling useless. To accept being lied to. I couldn’t do it.”

  “And me?”

  He looked at him with tears in his eyes. “That was and still is the hardest part. I wanted to come home, Miles. I really did but…”

  “You couldn’t do it?” he said slowly with an expression of disbelief.

  “I don’t expect you to understand, son. Looking back now I wish I did come home. These legs weren’t the only thing I lost. Something broke in me too. If it wasn’t for Charlie and Jenna…”

  “Is that her name?”

  He gave a smile.

  “She’s Charlie’s and trust me, we are only friends. I would never put anyone through what I experienced.”

  It was a hard pill to swallow but time had shown him nothing in this life was black and white. Scarlett, August, Demar, Gunnar, Arianna, his mother, and father. They all had their faults including him. Miles sat there for almost five minutes, shaking his head in disbelief. None of it seemed real.

  “August killed Scarlett,” Miles said. “He’s become a very different person from the guy I grew up with. He’s working for the PLA.”

  “He’s lost, Miles, he just needs to be led back.”

  “Yeah, and how do you expect me to do that? He wants to kill me, not talk with me.” Miles stood to his feet and paced, then stopped and placed one hand against the pane of a window. There were no boats on the lake, the water was choppy, tossed around by a hard wind. “I have to leave. Militia leaders from the twelve states are meeting this evening. They’ve obtained important intel that could help the resistance.”

  “Be careful who you trust, Miles.”

  Miles looked at his father. “It’s not safe here.”

  “It’s not safe anywhere.”

  “August is searching. It’s only a matter of time. He’ll find you.”

  “And if he does, I will deal with it then. I’m getting too old to worry.”

  Miles strolled over and leaned down and hugged his father. It was as much him wanting to let him know he still cared as it was making sure that this wasn’t a dream. As his father clutched him, apologized, and told him he’d missed him, he felt like a kid again. He didn’t want to believe the past, his family’s shortcomings, or face what lay ahead. Ignorance was bliss but Pandora’s box was open and nothing could put what had been spilled back into the box. “I’ll return soon.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  15

  Gunnar

  Camden County

  The number of militia in attendance that evening was impressive. Even without knowing the full details of what would be shared, Gunnar could tell it was important.

  Drawing the twelve leaders together had been in the works for years, so to see them speaking freely without argument, was good.

  Gunnar sat beside Snow that evening as more arrived at Ha Ha Tonka Castle Ruins. To avoid a potential ambush, those required to be there were escorted by two militia soldiers and not allowed to communicate with anyone else after being told where they were being taken. It was the only way they could be sure that the PLA wouldn’t learn of the secretive gathering.

  Its remote location ten miles out of Camdenton had been selected for numerous reasons, some of which were obvious: it wasn’t easy to reach, and it offered multiple avenues of escape through the state park and by the river.

  Still, even with the safety measures, he could tell everyone was on edge.

  Flames from a fire pit flickered in the middle of the roofless, turn-of-the-century stone castle, causing shadows to dance on the crumbling walls.

  “Any sign of Miles yet?” Gunnar asked, leaning into Snow.

  “Not so far.”

  “God, I hope he hasn’t run into trouble.”

  “Don’t worry, he has a unique knack of getting out of difficult situations.”

  “That he does,” Gunnar replied just as he caught sight of Arianna arriving. He hadn’t seen her since the night they were separated. A flood of memories hit him and he felt a twinge in his gut. He knew she wasn’t responsible but after what Miles had told him about her connection to Morgan, he still wasn’t convinced that she could be trusted. Accompanying her was Chief Vargas. Now that was a risky move.

  As he made his way over, slipping through a knot of people, she caught sight of him.

  “Arianna,” he said with a nod of the head.

  Although he was feeling better and was back on his feet, there was no hiding the wounds and facial scars from the brutality of the PLA and Santiago. “Hi, Gunnar.”

  His eyes darted to Vargas. “What’s he doing here?”

  “He wants to help.”

  “Does he?” His brow wrinkled. “Why now?”

  She went to speak on his behalf but Vargas raised a hand. “It’s okay, Arianna. Look, I understand your lack of trust, Gunnar. I need to earn it. That’s why I’m here. I never agreed with Morgan nor did I expect to find myself years in the hole serving the PLA but neither did some of these people.”

  “They never served.”

  “Oh, I think you’ll find that’s not accurate.” He inhaled sharply and released it. “I tried for years to get Morgan to work against the PLA but he refused and I had a family to think about. Had I gone against his wishes they would have been sent to the fields or the railway.”

  “Like the others.”

  He nodded. “I can’t change the past but I can do something positive toward the future.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  Gunnar might have gotten into it with him but the meeting was called to order. All eyes turned to a man in his early sixties with a bald head, a patch over hi
s right eye, and a black goatee. He was short, no larger than five foot four, and he walked with a slight limp. He reminded Gunnar of a weathered veteran wearing military gear that was a little too big for him. “Most of you know me, but for those that don’t, my name is John Murphy. I speak on behalf of the twelve states of the Midwest. As you’re aware, the destruction of the enemy is priority number one, however, to avoid unnecessary loss of life we have had to pick and choose our battles. A few days ago, an important message was brought to our attention through Liberty Radio. A message that came directly from the president himself. According to Intel, it appears that the railway system that connects the East and West Coast to Chicago is nearing completion and that as we speak, a train with an anti-missile system and weapons is on its way from the west heading for Chicago. With the PLA spread throughout the United States, Chicago and the railway system are vulnerable to an attack. In addition to this, our intel confirms that the commander and the PLA’s five generals are currently in the city awaiting the delivery of this system.” He took a breath. “If this anti-missile system reaches Chicago, any chance our military has of taking the city will be near impossible. The train and the anti-missile system passing through the Midwest must be destroyed if our offshore military is to have any chance of delivering a blow to the leaders of the PLA. Once that train has been stopped, our military will fly over the city and rain down hell. The POTUS is relying on us.”

  “Why not just attack now?” Gunnar asked. “Send birds over and wipe them off the map.”

  “Because the unfortunate news I bring you is that the first lady is there.”

  “But we were told by her daughter that she was dead,” Snow said.

  “That’s what they wanted us to believe. She was transported to Chicago. That’s why we are sending two teams. One will deal with the railway, the other will get into Chicago and extract the first lady. Once this is done our military will handle it from there.”