The Defiant: An Unbeaten Path

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The Defiant: An Unbeaten Path Page 8

by John W. Vance


  “Um, that’s not necessary.”

  “Why would you want to sleep on the ground? Just use a few houses; your back will thank me.”

  “Fine, we’ll do that.”

  “Good, Brock will take you to them. Take care, Mr. McNeil, and nice meeting you, Mr. Somerville, and please seriously consider our offer.”

  “I’ll say goodbye, then. I’ll get back to you soon about our decision on your generous offer,” Nicholas said as he stood.

  Brock escorted them back to the Suburban.

  When the door closed and they had their privacy, Colin asked, “Whatcha think?”

  “Not sure. My gut says, wow, what a nice place. I mean, look, fucking kids are over there jumping and playing, but my head says this is too good to be true.”

  “Which you going with?” Colin asked.

  “A combination of both.”

  Vista, CA

  Vincent looked at his blood-covered hands, then to Ron’s body below him. The four-inch incision he had made on his lower abdomen was seeping blood and thick pus. There was no doubt the second he opened Ron that he had an infection, but the infection was far worse than he had imagined, and it even appeared that some of his tissue surrounding the wound and much more internally had begun to decay, meaning that gangrene might have set in. There were so many reasons why Ron didn’t survive the surgery, but his ultimate prognosis hadn’t been good regardless. Vincent thought that more than likely he had also developed sepsis, a fatal blood infection if left untreated. The trauma Vincent was feeling was nothing in comparison to what Bridgette or Noah were experiencing.

  The scene was bloody and gruesome but made worse with Bridgette’s wailing grief. She sat next to Ron’s body and held his lifeless hand.

  Noah stood next to her. Tears of pain and loss streamed down his innocent face and dripped from his chin.

  There were no words to describe this scene except tragic.

  Vincent finally spoke. “I’m so sorry. I am so very sorry.”

  Bridgette wailed.

  Noah looked at Vincent, but his quivering lips didn’t mutter a word.

  Vincent felt uncomfortable and in some ways like an intruder on a very private moment. He stood up and went to the bathroom. He turned the handle and was surprised to see water pour from the rubbed bronze faucet. He washed the thickening blood from his hands with cold water and toweled off.

  Bridgette’s wails continued to echo off the walls and tile floors.

  He walked back into the bedroom and found them exactly where he had left them. He contemplated trying to comfort her but then dissuaded himself, thinking that was inappropriate. The Marines had taught him a lot, but failed to give him instruction on how to handle these types of situations.

  “I’m going to step out for a bit. Let me know if I can help with, um,” he said but cut himself short because the next word was body. It just all sounded too morbid. He turned the knob on the door when Bridgette cried out.

  “Don’t go, please.”

  “I can stay.”

  “If you need to step out, I understand, but don’t leave, stay,” she said, looking up at him. Her eyes were swollen with tears, and snot hung from her dripping nose.

  “I’m going to step out, but I’ll stay. I won’t leave you, I promise,” he said and deeply meant it. “I’m sorry, I really am.”

  “You did nothing wrong. It’s this fucking world!” she suddenly screamed, her anger stemming from a deep emotional loss.

  “I’ll be downstairs if you need me,” Vincent said and left. When he closed the door, he rested his weight against it and sighed. He looked up and out loud said, “I guess I was wrong, God, you didn’t keep me alive to save lives.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Every person has free choice. Free to obey or disobey the Natural Laws. Your choice determines the consequences. Nobody ever did, or ever will, escape the consequences of his choices.” – Alfred A. Montapert

  Wellsville, Utah

  The morning sun slowly crept into the kitchen of the little house Nicholas and the group were using. The sun’s rays found Nicholas perched on a stool, looking out the window

  His group had voted to stay but only until they found Bryn and Rob. They’d then take another vote. They thought this the prudent route. Like Nicholas, they were all excited about the prospect of what Wellsville could be but, like Nicholas, wanted to ensure it was the right move. Nicholas had given the analogy that this was their first date with Wellsville, and you don’t really know someone on a first date.

  Their cautious approach also had them all unanimously vote to stay in the same house. Together they were harder to kill was the consensus.

  The night was broken into shifts, and Nicholas had taken the early morning shift against Becky’s objections. He might be healing, but he felt he still needed to pull his own weight.

  Soft footsteps behind him in the kitchen caused him to turn. There he found Sophie.

  She wiped sleep from her eyes and sauntered to the pantry.

  “Good morning,” Nicholas said.

  Sophie was not a morning person and it showed in her response. “Morning.” She stretched and yawned heavily.

  As she scoured the pantry for what foods had been deposited for them from the townspeople, he said, “Sophie, I just want you to know that we’re not leaving until we find Bryn.”

  “I know.”

  “I won’t go anywhere until we have found her.”

  “I know,” she again said, not looking at him as she pulled a box of crackers from a shelf.

  “I just wanted to tell you that it’s a priority of mine.”

  “I know.”

  Nicholas chuckled and said, “You’re talkative, aren’t you?”

  She came out of the pantry, her lips smacking as she chewed on crackers and replied, “Nic, you’re a good guy. I know you won’t leave her.”

  “I’m glad you know.”

  She stuffed a couple more crackers in her mouth and said, “Not only do I know you’ll never leave her, she knows. That’s the most important thing.”

  “But she doesn’t know we’re even here.”

  “Precisely, she will never abandon you because she knows in her heart you’d never abandon her. You see, my sister has her faults, but once you get into her heart, she’ll never give up on you, never. That is an admirable trait and one you two share.”

  “Hmm.” Nicholas shrugged. It was nice hearing her say what she said, and he did feel that way about all of them. They had in a short time become his extended family, and Nic would do anything for family. It was built into his DNA.

  “Nice talk, I’m going to go lie back down,” Sophie said and left.

  Nicholas smiled as he watched her leave. He turned back around and looked through the grime-covered window. Far beyond to the southwest he saw the hills where he’d been held and wondered if Bryn and Rob were out there somewhere. He prayed they were still alive and only lost, or maybe, knowing Bryn, she was too skeptical to come into town. Their experiences had left them all guarded, but Bryn was on high alert and her level of trust was minimal.

  “Where are you, Bryn? Where are you?”

  Vista, CA

  Vincent’s slowly opened his eyes to find Noah standing above him, causing him to jump. “You scared me.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Is everything all right?” Vincent asked and pulled himself up to a seated position. He had spent the night at their house and found the living room couch an acceptable but not perfect alternative to the bed he had at the compound. Leaving the compound unattended made him nervous, but he’d left nothing there that he needed for his cross-country trip. That was all in the SUV, and he made sure he parked that in her garage.

  “Everything is fine. You were just snoring loud.”

  “Did you wake me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm,” Vincent grunted and stood. He walked to the large bay window and looked out. The view from this window gave him a clear and unf
ettered perspective of the long driveway and main road. He didn’t have a view of his compound but could see the avocado grove in the distance.

  Bridgette’s house sat upon large acreage too, as most did in the general vicinity. This gave him a general sense of ease and reduced the number of scavengers he’d have to deal with.

  “How’s your mother?” Vincent asked.

  “She’s lying upstairs next to dad,” Noah answered with a somber tone.

  Vincent turned and said, “I can’t say enough how sorry I am.”

  “It’s okay, I mean, I’ll miss my dad, but Mom said he was probably going to die anyway.”

  Vincent didn’t know how to follow up on that, so he left it alone, but he did want to know how he came to get shot. “What happened?”

  “Some people came. My dad fought with them; they shot him.”

  “What happened after that?”

  “They ran off with a bunch of food and stuff.”

  “What did your mom do?”

  “She was hiding with me.”

  “So they came up and just shot him?”

  “Not sure, they were just talking when suddenly it turned into a fight. There were three of them. My mom took me to their bedroom to hide in the closet. We heard them fighting; then a gun went off. We were too afraid to leave the closet. When we thought it was safe, we found him outside.”

  “Didn’t your dad have a weapon?”

  “My dad had a bat.”

  “What about the pistol your mom has, the one she shot at me with?”

  “She found that at the Taylor house next door when we went to look for medicine,” Noah explained.

  “So your dad was defenseless?”

  “Dad says guns kill.”

  “They do, you just don’t want to be the one dying,” Vincent cracked then shrugged his shoulders in disappointment. He could never imagine not having the tools available to protect himself or his family if he had one. He resisted the urge to ask Noah more questions, and what was the point, he asked himself. The fact was right there and didn’t need to be pressed anymore, especially to a child.

  Noah gave a painful look and asked, “Are you going to leave us now?”

  “I’ll hang out and help with your dad, you know, bury him.”

  “After that?”

  “Do you have any relatives, grandparents, someone you can go to?”

  “Yes, but they’re far away.”

  “Where are they?”

  “They live in Oklahoma. Granddad is a politician.”

  This tugged at Vincent’s sense of duty to those in need. Immediately he began to question what he should do. In life it was always easier to know people were alone or vulnerable and do nothing, but the moment it becomes personal you feel an obligation.

  “Did you wake him up after I told you not to,” Bridgette snapped, admonishing Noah.

  “I didn’t mean to,” Noah whimpered.

  “It’s okay. I needed to get up,” Vincent said, coming to Noah’s defense. He could see Bridgette was tired, strung out and no doubt in an emotionally unstable condition.

  “It’s not okay. He needs to do what I tell him to,” Bridgette bellowed.

  Noah rushed out of the room and disappeared.

  Vincent was hesitant to say anything. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and raised his eyebrows, gesturing he was uncomfortable.

  “I’m sure you have other things to do, like defend your palace,” Bridgette said, now snapping at Vincent.

  “I thought I could hang around and help with anything you need.”

  The strain on Bridgette’s face subsided for a second but went right back up. “No need, we can take care of this.”

  “It’s not any trouble. You look like you could use some help.”

  “We’ll be fine; there really isn’t anything else we need from you.”

  Vincent wasn’t shocked by her comments. He had seen this before and knew it was her painful emotions speaking not the real person. This knowledge gave him sympathy for her and made him want to stay and help even more.

  “Thank you again for trying, but we really will be fine. You know where the door is,” Bridgette said and left the room.

  He heard her stomping footsteps rush back upstairs and into the master bedroom. When the door slammed, he cringed. The pain, fear and uncertainty she must be experiencing had to be overwhelming, he thought. Knowing that insisting on helping would only backfire, he grabbed his things and left.

  Outside the driver’s door of the SUV, he stopped when he felt eyes on him. He turned and looked back towards the house; his gaze found the source. Noah was standing in a window on the second floor. He didn’t wave or move, he just stood staring. Vincent knew whatever Bridgette was feeling, Noah felt tenfold. A child looks to their parents for strength and protection, and when that’s not there, it throws them off and leaves them in a place that is dark. He was sure Noah must be there and Vincent had to find a way to help, but timing was everything, as was his approach.

  With a smile on his face, Vincent raised his arm and waved at Noah, and just before he lowered his arm, he mouthed the words, "I’ll be back."

  Undisclosed Bunker Facility, Superstition Mountains, East of Apache Junction, Arizona

  Michael had asked for the chance to go outside and get fresh air, and Anatoly had granted it. The warmth of the desert sun felt good on his face, and the smell of the dry air made it even better. He loved the desert but especially loved the Sonoran Desert above all he had ever visited. Its rugged terrain, reddish brown colors and unique fauna made it so beautiful to him.

  Once outside he could see that their location was remote, and nothing around him looked familiar. His trip outside also gave him confirmation on his assumption that the facility was desolate. He counted three men guarding the entrance, but besides them he saw no one as Karina escorted him through the maze of hallways and stairwells to the exit. This gave him mixed feelings. If he wanted to escape, he wouldn’t have to worry about fighting an army to leave, but if he needed them to protect him against Viktor, there weren’t many of them to put up a defense.

  He had spent most of the night thinking about the information Anatoly had disclosed to him. Again, he found it all odd but at the same time strangely familiar. It was this familiarity that he clung to. He eventually passed out from exhaustion but woke only to continue the frustrating process of remembering. As he tried to take a moment to enjoy himself, he quickly went back to trying to piece it all together. Unable to do so, he began to recite what he did know.

  He distinctly remembered being in the military; he had a clear vision of his years as a Ranger. He knew he had been a CIA operative and even remembered his early years of training. Only when it came to recent memories did he have issues. He knew he had been on that ship, the very one that was the launching pad for the EMP. He knew some man named Viktor was trying to kill him; he had memories of that. He had distinct memories of Karina and felt they were more than colleagues. His mind then went to family, maybe there he’d be able to put it together, start from the last time he talked to or had seen his brother, Nicholas. He recalled that Nicholas and his family lived in the San Diego area, but he couldn’t recall the last time he’d been there.

  Frustrated that most of his memories were a blur or, worse, blank, void of anything, he stopped his pacing and sat on the ground and rested his back against the rough concrete wall. He placed his face in his hands and squeezed. Maybe he could forcibly press his memories out.

  The sound of hard soles on tiny pieces of gravel snapped him out of his futile exercise. He looked up and saw Karina, which brought a smile to his face.

  “How are you doing?” she asked.

  “Nothing new, I was just sitting here, trying to force my brain to work.”

  “Anatoly and I were talking, and we think that we might have an idea.”

  “Oh yeah, please tell me it doesn’t require drugs or electrodes,” he joked.

  “Nothing painful, I can assu
re you of that,” she said and offered her hand to assist him in getting up.

  He took her small hand and lifted himself to his feet. “So what’s this idea?”

  “I think you’ll like it. In fact, I’d be surprised if you didn’t,” she said with a smile then winked.

  “Hmm, sounds intriguing.”

  She led him back down through the labyrinth of seemingly endless hallways until they came to a metal door. It was no different than any other door along the hallway. She produced a key from her pocket, inserted it into the lock and turned it.

  He could hear the tumbler turn and click.

  She opened the door and pushed it open. “Please, go inside.”

  He hesitated, not because he was afraid, but because he had grown a healthy skepticism of all things new.

  Noticing his hesitation, she said, “No one is in there, I promise.”

  He looked into her eyes and saw the woman from his memories, and that woman never hurt him. He forced himself to trust the situation, so he stepped into the darkness.

  She came in right behind him and closed the door, leaving the light from the hallway outside.

  “Aren’t there any lights in here?” he asked, stopping the second the door closed. A strong whiff of perfume hit his nose followed by the gentle touch of her hand on his neck. “Ahh, why don’t we turn on some lights.”

  “Sshh,” she cooed.

  He recognized that tone in her voice and his fear began to turn to arousal.

  Her hand worked its way from his neck to his hand. She took it and lifted his arm and placed his hand on her bare breast.

  “How did you get undressed so quickly?” he asked with nervousness in his voice.

  She then led him through the dark for several feet and stopped. She let go of his hand and stepped away.

  “Where did you go?” he asked. He couldn’t believe how dark the room was.

 

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