by Bruno Miller
At least Joel and Allie were hidden well and the Blazer was camouflaged. If these two guys got lucky and managed to follow the kids’ trail, at least they had that big tree to hide behind and use for cover. If they had to fight, they would have an easily defendable position.
The men would be approaching the kids head-on, so Joel and Allie would have the upper hand. Fortunately, Ben doubted these two idiots would be able to find Joel and Allie, at least not right away. After all, they stayed hidden all night by taking only a few common-sense precautions.
As Ben rounded the long curve in the road, the first bridge and the turnoff to the dirt road came into view. He mashed down on the gas pedal, trying to cover the last mile as quickly as possible. The Bronco was nowhere to be seen. They must have already been on the dirt road, along the river.
They would have to slow down or risk tearing their truck apart on the crater-filled trail. That was where he would make up time. Not caring about this old pickup meant he could push it to the limit on the trail. This truck was a onetime use for him and he’d rather not leave these lowlifes a working vehicle anyways.
Ben hardly slowed as he hit the turnoff before the bridge. The rear end of the pickup fishtailed on the loose gravel, spitting rocks into the air. He quickly downshifted and hit the gas, forcing the truck to straighten out.
The dirt road that ran along the river was just up ahead. The bright mid-morning sun reflected off a lingering dust cloud that hung over the intersection.
It was the first sign he was gaining on the men in the Ford Bronco.
Chapter Six
Now Ben wondered if he should confront the men on the road or follow them from a distance. He’d have the element of surprise either way. The guys in the Bronco would think it was their friend chasing them down for something. They obviously hadn’t left him with a radio.
Ben had hoped to find one in the truck when he’d commandeered it, but he hadn’t seen a radio in here anywhere or on the driver.
He slowed as he approached and slid the last couple of feet into the gravel intersection before stopping. He could see a good distance down the dirt road to his left, but still no Bronco. How were they so far ahead?
The road followed the contours of the river so he could see only a few hundred yards before it veered off to the right and out of sight. He spun the tires as he turned the wheel to the left and continued his pursuit.
After a few minutes of hard driving, he expected to see the Ford around the next bend any minute now, but he didn’t. They must have been going pretty fast.
He pushed the old Chevy even harder as it rattled down the pothole-laden road. He was definitely getting closer. The dusty trail the Bronco had left in its wake was starting to come in the windows and fill the cabin in the pickup. Ben paid it no mind and sped up even more, grimacing as the truck shook violently and skated over a washboard section of road.
Then, as he was coming around a sharp corner, he caught a glimpse of a red tail light as it disappeared around some thick bushes ahead. They were nearing the end of the dirt road and would soon be on the narrow trail that led to last night’s campsite.
But more importantly, it would take them past the kids. He couldn’t risk them finding the trail they’d made with the Blazer and didn’t plan on letting them get that far. It would only take a matter of minutes to find the trail the kids forged through the woods.
Time to make a move.
Ben let the Bronco turn onto the trail before he gunned the pickup and pulled in behind them.
When he’d first got in the pickup back at the roadblock, he noticed a camo ball cap on the seat. He grabbed it now and put it on. The hat might buy him a few extra seconds of disguise if they thought he was the other guy.
Ben blew the horn and slammed on the brakes simultaneously. He stopped the pickup and pushed the long stick shifter forward until it slipped out of gear while he waited for their reaction. A few seconds went by without a response, and he was just about to blow the horn again when he saw the red glow from the Bronco’s brake lights.
“Here we go,” he muttered. He opened his door and got ready as he pulled the Glock out of his concealed holster from the small of his back. With one foot out of the truck and the other still on the brake, Ben positioned himself in the opening between the door and the truck.
With his gun at the ready, he waited. The driver’s door swung open as the man put it in park and got out.
“What do you want now? Hey—”
But it was too late; Ben had already lined up the shot. BANG! BANG!
The driver, two shots to his chest, went down where he stood. Ben turned his attention to the passenger, who was only halfway out of the Bronco by now.
“Hey…hey, who are you?” The passenger raised his shotgun as he came around the back of the Bronco, but he was too slow.
BANG! Ben shot him once in the chest.
He staggered a couple steps back and dropped the shotgun. He clutched his chest and fell on the ground. “You…you sh-shot me.”
Ben walked over to where the man had fallen, keeping one eye on the driver as best he could to make sure there was no movement. Two shots center mass should have killed him, but he wasn’t taking any chances without any backup.
“How many more at the quarry?” Ben trained the Glock on the man’s head.
The man was bleeding badly. Ben didn’t have much time to get information out of him. He lay there with his right hand covering the wound but failed to stop the blood gushing out and through his fingers. His left hand trembled as he wiped sweat off his forehead, leaving a bloody trail.
“T-t-two more,” he sputtered. “Hel-help m…” His eyes rolled back into his head and his body went limp before he could get the words out.
Ben took a few steps back and headed over to the driver. He was face-down in the dirt and gave no response when Ben used his foot to push one of his arms away from his torso.
He jogged back to the pickup and got the radio out of his bag.
“Joel, come in. Over”
“Go ahead, Dad. Over.”
“The gunshots were me. I took care of the guys headed your way. Stay put. I’m coming to you. Over.”
“Roger that. Staying put. Over.”
But first, Ben needed to clear the narrow trail of the vehicles so they could get back out this way. He ran to the pickup and grabbed his gun and pack out of the cab. Setting them on the ground a few feet away, he returned to the pickup.
He leaned into the cab and turned the wheel to the right, then put it in gear and popped the clutch.
The old Chevy shot forward as Ben jumped clear, leaving the driver’s side door open. The truck drove itself over the edge of the trail, where it forced its way through the undergrowth before hitting a tree. The rear tires continued to spin in vain as the engine sputtered and finally stalled.
Ben decided to get the bodies off the road. He wasn’t worried about covering his trail here, but there was no reason to leave them on display for the kids to see. And they were going to have to come through here on their way back to the main road.
Then do what? He hadn’t planned that far ahead yet, although he had a few ideas.
Without a large piece of equipment, there was no way of clearing that bridge. Even as it stood, it was going to take considerable effort to clear the smaller bridge just to get back across to where they had come from. If they drove up to the next closest crossing, it would be a day’s drive at least. And an alternate route could add even more time to the overall trip by taking them too far north.
Ben glanced at his watch. By the time they got the bridge cleared, it would be pushing noon. They wouldn’t even make the next bridge today and would have to camp yet again on the west side of the Mississippi. The thought of that sounded too much like defeat to Ben.
They had to do better. Solving the situation here was starting to make a lot of sense. They would have to deal with the remaining bad guys, but if there were only two of them left, it shouldn
’t be a problem.
If they could get their hands on one of those front-end loaders from the quarry, they could make quick work of the big roadblock in no time. He was pretty sure that’s what the men had used to pile the cars up in the first place.
He’d have to work out the details in his head and run it all past Joel and Allie. He’d need their help on this one. Hopefully the guy was telling the truth about there only being two others. Ben wasn’t sure how much he was willing to gamble on a dead man’s words.
Chapter Seven
Ben took a look inside the Bronco before getting in. It was still running and both doors were open. The two-way radio was on the floor between the seats but was turned off. On the back seat sat a box of shotgun shells and a soft rifle case that Ben presumed had the driver’s gun inside and maybe some ammo in the pocket.
Otherwise, the truck was empty, except for a few empty dip cans on the floor along with some other trash. He put his gun and bag on the passenger’s seat before leaning all the way over and pulling the opposite door closed. He got settled into the driver’s seat and closed the door.
“Come in, Joel. Over.”
“Go ahead. Over”
“I’ll be in a blue Ford Bronco coming in on the trail we made. Over.”
“Okay. I mean copy that. Over.”
Ben put the Bronco in gear and continued down the trail. The truck seemed like it was in good shape. Someone had taken care of it, unlike the pickup he’d borrowed. He figured the Ford would get back into the woods to where the Blazer was stashed without any trouble.
The more he thought about it, the more he realized the Bronco might actually be the key to getting out of this mess. He could disguise himself in the Bronco and catch the others over at the quarry off guard. They wouldn’t suspect anything if they saw a familiar vehicle coming. At least he hoped it would fool them.
The people at the quarry would probably be expecting one of the guys to return sooner or later. From what he’d heard of their conversation back at the roadblock, it sounded like the men had been searching for him and the kids between the bridges for a while.
There was one problem with the plan that stood out. From the quarry, the remaining men had a good view of the smaller bridge and would be able to see anyone coming. Ben and his crew were going to have to stop at mid-span and push the cars out of the way.
If the people over at the quarry were paying attention, they’d spot him and the kids. The last thing Ben wanted was for them to get in a gunfight on the middle of the bridge while trying to move the cars. But pushing the cars out of the way would take all three of them, and they would be exposed the whole time.
Right now, he couldn’t think of any other options. As much as he didn’t like the plan, he knew they needed one of those big loaders from the quarry to move the tangled mess of cars from the other bridge. He wasn’t sure how else to go about getting one without being seen.
When they’d driven by the quarry yesterday, he’d noticed a small remote building set back from the front office entrance. There were several pieces of heavy equipment parked around it, and Ben suspected they would find keys to one of the loaders in there.
He had driven an articulated loader in the army once, when they had gotten roped into helping set up a forward operating base. The FOB was supposed to be operational when they got there, but that was far from the case due to heavy hostile activity. He spent a few hours on the hulking piece of equipment, and by the end, he was actually having a good time running it.
For its size, the six-ton loader was easy to operate and the controls were pretty intuitive. There were only a couple pedals on the floor, and it was a simple forward or reverse selector on the column. If Joel and Allie could get one running, he could deal with the remaining bad guys.
The quarry’s front office looked like it had originally been a house and maybe still was. The house sat up on a hill at the front of the property, just off the highway and about 50 yards or so inside the fence. The whole place was surrounded by chain link fence with barbed wire at the top.
The only entrance he’d seen was up front by the house, and as he recalled, the gate was shut when they’d driven by yesterday. The house had a commanding view of the quarry yard, the highway, and the bridge. Most likely, that’s where these guys were operating.
Ben glanced at the keys dangling from the ignition. There was a smaller brass key on the ring that looked like it could belong to a padlock. Maybe that opened the gate. Of course, getting out to open the gate or plowing through it with the Bronco would give them away just the same. The longer he thought the plan through, the more flaws he found with it.
Ben leaned his head back and spotted the trail leading into the woods from the Blazer on the left-hand side. He’d make sure he covered their tracks a little better next time they had to hide the truck.
Ben squeezed the call button on his radio as he used his other hand to guide the truck into the bushes. “Coming down the trail now. Over.”
“Copy that. Over.”
Ben maneuvered the Bronco along the same route they had forged with the Blazer earlier this morning. It didn’t take long before the tall marsh grass and the fallen tree where Joel and Allie were hiding came into view. He pulled over close to where the Blazer was hidden and shut off the engine.
Gunner ran around from behind the tree with his hackles up as he eyed the strange vehicle warily. When Ben opened the door and got out, Gunner let his guard down. His mood change was visible as his tail whipped back and forth and he ran to Ben, playfully howling at him.
“Hey, boy, it’s me. It’s okay.” Ben gave Gunner a few rough scratches around his neck before the dog moved on to sniff the Ford and explore it for himself.
Joel and Allie emerged from their makeshift blind behind the dead tree and walked toward Ben.
“Well, what happened?” Joel asked.
“The bridge is blocked, and I don’t mean a few cars pushed across the lanes. I mean blocked as in 10–15 cars piled up. Three guys showed up, and I overheard a lot of what they said. Apparently, they’re based out of the quarry across the river, and we’re not the first ones they’ve trapped here. I took care of the guys and they were the only ones here as far as I know. There are two more of them at the quarry.”
“Are you okay?” Allie looked at his hands. They were a little blood-stained from moving the bodies.
Ben looked down. “Um…yeah. I’m good. It’s not mine.” He hadn’t realized he’d gotten blood on them. He dashed to the edge of the marsh and crouched to wash them in the muddy water. He used some of the mud to scrub the stains off.
“We’re going to need a big piece of equipment to move those cars.” Ben tried to shift the focus onto something else.
“Like something from the quarry?” Joel’s eyes widened.
Ben nodded as he washed. “One of those big loaders would do it.”
“What about going another way? Like going to another bridge somewhere?” Allie asked.
“That was the first thing I thought of, but we’re talking about a day, at the minimum. The way things have been going, probably two. I don’t know if your dad or the kids have that kind of time.” The words came out of Ben’s mouth before he could stop himself. There was an awkward silence for a few moments.
It was the truth, and he had to be honest with them. Ben stood and dried his hands on his pants as he faced the kids. “I’m sorry. But that’s the way it is. I’m not going to lie to you guys or try to sell it any other way. You deserve better than that.”
“Thanks Dad. It’s okay. We know.” Joel nodded.
“Yeah, thanks for being honest, Mr. Davis, and not treating us like kids. We can handle it. I promise.” Allie managed a smile, but Ben was still worried he had said too much.
He knew they had to hear it, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. He had better get used to it, though, because he had a feeling the worst was yet to come.
Chapter Eight
Joel and A
llie stood alongside the Bronco, and Allie strained on her tiptoes to see through the back window.
“There’s something back here. It looks like a box or something,” she said. The windows were so dirty it was a wonder she could see anything at all.
“Here you go.” Ben tossed the Ford keys to Joel. “Take a look in the back. I need to get some water and a Clif bar or something before I do anything else.” Ben headed for the Blazer. He pushed into the grass a few feet and rolled the camo netting over the rear of the truck so he could access the gear in the back. He quickly found a water bottle and a Clif bar.
Food in hand, he sat down on the tailgate and began going over things in his head.
“Hey, Dad, you might want to come look at this,” Joel suggested.
“Coming.” Ben sighed and took a gulp of the tepid water as he got off the tailgate and headed toward them. Now what? He walked around the back of the Bronco, where both kids were staring wide-eyed at something.
“What is it?” Ben asked as he came around the side of the truck and saw for himself.
“Is that what I think it is?” Joel asked.
“Unless there’s something else in that box,” Ben answered. “That looks like dynamite.”
There, in the back of the Bronco, was a wooden crate that read “DANGER/EXPLOSIVES” in red letters and several languages. The words Dyno Nobel / Unimax were stenciled on the lid. There was also a small diamond-shaped chemical sign with 1.1D/1 stamped on it, indicating explosives.
Ben knew very little about dynamite, other than why the army didn’t use it. Dynamite was an NG (nitroglycerine)-based explosive and was therefore not used in combat operations. NG explosives were shock-sensitive, meaning they could go off if they took a hit from a bullet or grenade fragment.
Ben eased the box onto the tailgate and slowly removed the top of the wooden crate.
Inside, the crate was almost full to the top with neatly stacked yellow tubes. Each one was about eight inches long and an inch or bigger around. A short roll of fuse cord was also coiled up inside the box. Small black writing on each stick indicated they were eight ounces in size and an 80-percent mix.