“Meaning you plan to let me drive eventually?”
“Meaning…maybe.” She sniggered. “It takes time to get to get accustomed to these, so grab a set.” Jade pressed the accelerator and sent the Marauder toward the main gate as the steel barricade sank into the pavement below. “What’s our destination?”
“Woodstock,” Alan replied, as if on the tip of his tongue.
“Woodstock it is,” Jade said. “Of course, same as before, I don’t know which way to go. So point me in the right direction, if you would.”
“My navigational skills are at your disposal.”
Chapter 20
George Washington National Forest
Hardy County, West Virginia
Wednesday, January 5th. Present day
After traversing Lost River State Park using a system of slick, overgrown hiking trails, Lauren led the group along an unblemished rustic roadway for a mile before veering into an open, unfenced field. From there, they entered a thickly wooded trough and hiked in parallel to the icy cascades of Lower Cove Run, where they took a break, hydrated, and replenished their dwindling supplies of fresh water.
Lauren was back in familiar territory, encircled now by nothing but steep, rolling woodlands, timeworn cattle farms, and National Forest as far as the eye could see. The stream would lead them through and intersect with Judge Rye Road, which ascended and crested the three-thousand-foot elevation mark onto Devil’s Hole Mountain.
As they moved through the arctic landscape of the higher elevations, limbs of trees, shrub and laurel, and individual needles on evergreens revealed a thin coating of ice. The frozen sheen refracted the sun’s rays as it closed on the western horizon, superimposing a dazzling, tawny hue over the immediate panorama, in similar fashion to how a watercolorist might capture early twilight on canvas, as perceived amidst a miniature ice age.
Woo Tang went on alert when the group rounded a corner and came upon an overturned truck. As he passed by with caution, he studied it with a keen eye, chancing a look inside to find three corpses entangled with one another, all vastly decomposed. The windshield was cracked from one end to the other, replete with starbursts denoting where each bullet had struck and breached it. The driver and passengers appeared to have been killed in the cab, likely while the truck had been in motion.
A quarter mile later, the group stumbled upon another curious scene. Another truck, completely scorched, appearing either to have caught fire or exploded, was situated awkwardly in a drainage ditch halfway glazed with snow.
The former SEAL examined what remained of its tires with a raised brow, each one now a jumble of molten rubber and steel belts.
“Good gracious, what a mess,” Jean remarked. “What on earth do y’all think could’ve happened here?”
“One could only speculate,” Woo Tang said.
Lauren grinned uncomfortably. “No speculation necessary. I know what happened.”
Woo Tang and the others regarded her with scrutiny.
“Me,” Lauren said in monotone. “I happened here.”
Jean grimaced. “I’m sorry, honey, but did you say you happened here?”
Lauren nodded and her expression congealed.
“What does she mean by that?” Francis asked his wife.
She swatted him. “Don’t push her…if she wants to tell us, she’ll tell us.”
Lauren inhaled a deep breath. “It happened a few months ago. My friend Megan and I were riding together in her UTV. We’d been cleared to act as road patrol with her father’s permission, but not up here though. We weren’t supposed to leave the valley. She…had other plans in mind. She was determined to recon some areas below just north of here where she believed the takers—the faction that’d been attacking us—were camped out. We were on our way back and a truck came up behind us and started shooting. One of the shots hit Megan’s mirror…it was inches from hitting her. They were gaining on us, and I knew I had to stop them before they killed us.” Lauren locked eyes with Woo Tang. “So I did.”
He looked upon her with sincerity, indicating at that point, he was all ears.
“After that, we thought we were good, like we’d gotten away.” Lauren pointed to the charred pickup. “But that truck pulled out of the woods right in front of us and cut us off. Megan whipped the wheel; we skidded and overturned. I’d taken my seatbelt off to shoot at the truck behind us and hadn’t put it back on, and was thrown into the bushes. I lost my rifle, my pack, everything but my sidearm. The Polaris was on its side and we used it for cover. The men who’d ambushed us…taunted us and said terrible things. If we hadn’t fought them off, I don’t think words could’ve described what they would’ve done to us.”
“Oh, honey,” Jean said, her expression allaying. “What an awful thing to go through.”
“They were awful people, but every one of them died that day,” Lauren said, “because they deserved to.” She took a few steps away and stared hard at the truck. “I’d shot men before, but it was different that day. I knew it was all on me; no one was there to save me. I couldn’t lean on my dad or call 911. The police couldn’t help me; there weren’t any rangers nearby, no security guard, no older brother, no bodyguard. Help was miles away, and a friend was with me who stood to suffer the same fate as me had I not refused to become a victim.” She paused. “I chose to fight. And I elected to win that fight. It’s been that way for me ever since.”
Lauren turned away and started off again while the others stood in place, absorbing every moving word she’d said, attempting to imagine the day she’d described to them.
Woo Tang remained reticent and shot occasional glances Lauren’s way. In witnessing her recent behavior and now, this latest exposé on a portion of her life for which he hadn’t been present, he spent a moment mulling it over and outlining her backstory in his mind.
Lauren’s predispositions aside, Woo Tang knew that he, Dave Graham, and the unit had enabled her in such ways and were therefore culpable to some degree. They’d all had a part in making her the person she had become, even in such a short amount of time. They’d provided the foundation, but she had built upon it, having gone far beyond what he had conceived possible. On her own and directly affected by the world’s atrocities, by some exceptional means, the Lauren Russell he’d watched develop into a young warrior had become a revolutionary.
Before departing the road and reentering the woods along the wagon trail that would lead them two miles into the valley below, and Lauren home, she turned to observe the scene a final time. She stared hard at the destruction she’d elicited, calling into memory the life-altering crack of every shot.
Woo Tang affably bumped her shoulder with his. “Lauren Russell, I deem that we are merely a hop, skip, and a jump from our destination. Shall we break here or continue?”
She shuddered. “Sorry…just taking a few to reflect over this. It’s all somewhat difficult to believe, sometimes.”
“What is? That you are capable of such things? Surely the realization of that was broached long ago.”
“You’re right, it was. But it still surprises me.” Lauren looked to her feet. “Have I ever told you about how I wanted to be a veterinarian when I was younger?”
“Not that I recall.”
“It’s been on my mind ever since Lazarus bragged about his degree the other day,” she began. “Every semester in fifth grade, we had these ‘career days’. People would come in during class and discuss their careers with us, and by day’s end, we had to choose which one we wanted for ourselves. There was this woman in her twenties who came dressed in scrubs. She was happy and vibrant, always smiling; I could tell she was doing something she loved. She told us she was a veterinarian and that working with animals wasn’t always easy, but the good experiences by far outweighed the bad. She said her job, on the fundamental level, was simple.
“She used her strength to nurture the weak. She protected the vulnerable and fostered the helpless. She took away hurt and pain and saved lives, and
doing those things gave her purpose. After her presentation, I wanted to be everything she was. I wanted to help animals like she did and look and feel happy like her. I told my parents about it, and for the longest time, I was convinced becoming a veterinarian was the only thing I ever wanted to do. I felt like I was born to do it. Then I got older and learned how wrong I was. And now, in retrospect, I don’t think I was ever born to do anything…apart from this.”
Woo Tang hesitated before responding. “An enchanting story. I wonder though, would it be untimely to offer another perspective?”
“No. Of course not.”
Woo Tang regarded her with kind eyes. “First and foremost, I disagree with your assertion, as I believe you were born for not one, but many reasons, all of which are distinctive, many of which have yet to be unearthed. My viewpoint is of a single element within a unit, the one who facilitated bringing your inherent gifts to the surface where they could be used. It brings me satisfaction knowing your capabilities have served to extend your lifespan and will likely continue to do so.
“You have proven yourself a capable fighter, proficient at self-preservation, and because of this, I believe you are naturally suited for the premise of combat. But being a natural at something is in no way uniform with being born for something.” Woo Tang stepped closer. “I have never once alleged you as having a sole purpose on this earth. You are not a seed or a blade of grass; you are a human and therefore a keeper of many. But of them, it is my belief you and many others were born into this world for a highly celebrated purpose in particular; one that is far too often disregarded.”
Lauren’s eyes had begun to well up. “What, Jae? What purpose?”
He spoke firmly. “To live.”
Nearing the wagon trail’s midway point between Devil’s Hole and the valley, Lauren slowed her pace upon smelling wood smoke. She rotated and, in the waning light, saw the flaming shimmer of what could only be a small fire burning in the forest.
Woo Tang took two steps to stand beside her. He’d noticed it as well and sent a questioning look her way, as if to ask if she knew anything about it.
Lauren shrugged her shoulders and pulled her rifle close. She motioned to Jean and Francis. “Wait here.”
About twenty yards in, they came upon a small campsite with trash strewn about, intermixed with portions of muddied snow and slush. Two men—both with shaggy beards, long hair, and raggedy clothes—were sleeping soundly, bundled underneath wool blankets, their backs to each other, leaning against a tree. A scoped bolt-action rifle lay on the ground beside each of them.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lauren said under her breath.
Woo Tang scrutinized the scene and moved in closer with Lauren falling in behind him. Sliding their rifles away, he handed them off one by one. Lauren unloaded them and placed the live shells in a pocket, then slung both over a shoulder, snug to her pack.
The two men remained asleep, clueless that visitors had joined them. Their snoring disguised nearly every neighboring noise in the forest, effectively acting as would a lullaby.
Woo Tang felt around their blankets for the presence of other weapons and, upon finding none, rose and backed away. He unshouldered his rucksack and extracted two sets of restraints.
Lauren grinned satirically. She moved to within inches of the men, went to a knee and slapped her palms together with enough force to echo the sound into the hills.
Both men nearly flew out of their blankets.
“Hey, guys. What’s shakin’?” Lauren probed. “Doing a little hunting?”
The men yawned and studied their predicament, then began whispering to each other.
“We have a right to be here,” one said. “This land is ours too, you know.”
Lauren rose. “I never said anything about whose land it was.”
Woo Tang tossed each man a set of zip cuffs. “Put these on, gentlemen. The two of you will be joining us.”
“Joinin’ you? Where’re we going?”
“Some of us are going home,” Lauren said. “You boys are going to visit the constable.”
“Constable?”
She nodded, still sending her grin along.
“And what if we don’t wanna see no constable?”
Lauren backed away and leveled the AK at them. “Then we shoot you. And you both die right here.”
The men deliberated with one another, soon deciding that compliance was their best option, but not before starting a round of multiple consecutive questions.
Removing a hank of paracord from his rucksack, Woo Tang unwound it and tied a knot in the end. “We will make a leash and tow them in while keeping our distance.” He secured their bonds while they complained and voiced grievances with intermixed profanity while Woo Tang did his best to ignore them, though they were trying his patience. “Lauren Russell, would you happen to have any duct tape in your pack?”
About an hour later, the group made their official entrance into the valley at the point where the wagon trail came to a terminus at Trout Run Road.
“Is this home?” Francis pondered aloud. “Looks deserted.”
Jean looked around. “I tend to agree…where’s all the houses?”
“Down there, mostly,” Lauren said, pointing north. “My house is just around the corner on the right.”
The group trudged over crunchy layers of compacted, iced-over snow in the direction Lauren indicated. The road, appearing to have been plowed by some means, meandered through the woods exactly as she remembered, though coated now in a wafting blanket of whiteness, which served to reflect a set of approaching headlights.
“This trip’s been rough. I hope that’s somebody one of y’all know,” Francis said.
The vehicle was soon identified as one of the larger dual-axle M1083 FMTVs belonging to Dave’s unit. “It is,” Woo Tang said, then neared it as it slowed.
The driver, a young soldier sporting a freshly shaven face and a broad smile, rolled down his window. “Well, look who it is. Evening, Chief”—he tipped his hat—“ma’am. When did you get into town?”
“We deplaned only moments ago.”
“You did, did you? We weren’t expecting a visit, but it’s good to see you. Bring some friends along?”
Woo Tang gestured to the pair not in restraints. “This is Francis and Jean; they are friends. The other two were discovered on the way, armed with scoped rifles. They have since been disarmed. We brought them along for posterity.”
The driver conversed with the other soldier in the passenger seat. “I wonder if those two are the shooters.”
“What shooters?” Lauren pondered.
The soldier explained the issue that had been plaguing the valley over a span of days. “What caliber rifles did they have? Something with reach?”
Francis slid the men’s guns from his shoulder and presented them.
The driver shook his head. “From the looks of it, these might be our culprits. Richie’s liable to be happy as hell knowing they’re in custody. Funny how you just stumbled on them. Were they sleeping?”
Lauren grinned. “Actually, they were.”
“Better lucky than good, I guess. We got a good place to put them. Chief, you want to hitch a ride with us to the FOL and get checked in?”
Woo Tang nodded. “That is acceptable. We will also need to find accommodations for Francis and Jean. They were not expecting to stay long; however, it appears they will be.”
“Roger that,” said the driver. “Well, hop in the back and we’ll get going on it.”
Woo Tang turned away and squared off with Lauren. “Lauren Russell, this is where I leave you. That is, unless you object.”
Lauren shook her head. “No, I don’t object. I couldn’t’ve asked for a nobler bodyguard.” She hugged him and gave him a peck on the cheek. “I’m going straight home, so you’re officially off duty. Look me up tomorrow if you want.”
“Very well. Oh, and by the way…”
“Yeah?”
He gr
inned sheepishly. “I have heard said before, though I fail to recall the source, that…there is no place like home.”
Lauren sniggered. “Funny. Real funny.”
Jean and Francis stopped on their way to the truck to bid their thanks. “Lauren, just so you know, Francis and I…we know Claudio,” Jean said. “There’s a slight chance we might be able to fix this mess. No promises, but we can sure give it a try.”
Lauren smiled grimly. “That would be great, thank you, Jean. Whatever you can do.”
The trio boarded the transport, and the truck made a turnabout and headed north, soon disappearing into the darkness; and Lauren trudged the remaining distance between herself and home.
Chapter 21
Shenandoah Valley, Virginia
Wednesday, January 5th. Present day
Jade lurched the APC to a stop at the bottom of White Rock Road, then looked either way along the snowy break denoting the thoroughfare beneath. “Which path shall we take, boys?” She pointed ahead to a pair of parallel, concave grooves in the snow. “Alan, we could follow those back to Butch’s barely beaten woodland corridor if you want.”
“I’ll pass,” Alan said, fiddling with a set of night-vision goggles. “I don’t think my stomach could survive another jaunt like that one. Unless either of you oppose, I vote we stick to the roads.”
Jade shrugged and took a left-hand turn. “We’re running NVDs at night in a blacked-out, armored tin can now. So it’s all the same to me. Ken?”
“All the same, sure. Bearing in mind the limitations of said NVDs,” Ken remarked.
“So far, I haven’t found any,” Alan mused. “These things are incredible. I can see stars and planets in the sky I never knew were there.”
Jade leered. “After you finish stargazing, unpack the FLIR thermals and acquaint yourself with one. They focus on infrared light and make heat signatures visible. What night vision can’t distinguish, thermals can, and effectively, vice versa. Night vision can’t see through smoke or fog, but thermals can. Using both, we should see anything coming our way.”
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