by Victor Zugg
“What?” Chet asked.
“That big bald guy there,” Sam said.
“That’s Frank,” Tiff said. “The gang at the distribution center.”
“I believe you’re right,” Chet said.
Frank pointed his rifle and fired. A man thirty yards away, running, crumpled to the ground. At that point, three more men ran up to Frank’s side. They appeared to be saying something to Frank. All four men then turned and began jogging toward the barricade. Ten or so men from around the area followed.
“With all the chaos I can’t tell the good guys from the bad guys,” Chet said.
“I know some of the bad guys,” Sam said, as he pointed to the men running behind Frank. Sam rose to a crouch and took a step out of the gully. “And we need to find Hank, Bill, Pete, Andy, or someone we know.”
Fifty yards behind, staggered and spread out, Sam, Chet, and Tiff followed Frank and his men as they ran toward the barricade. Sam kept his eyes glued to Frank.
***
“See anyone you know?” Jackson asked Toby.
The two of them, along with Franklin, lay prone, side-by-side, in the tall grass on the north side of the main road about a hundred and fifty yards east of the barricade. The fully engulfed lodge burned in the distance, thirty degrees off to their left.
Toby peered through the magnified sight mounted on his M4 suppressed carbine. The burning building provided plenty of illumination. He placed the cross hairs on the two men and one woman following the larger group headed for the barricade. Toby admired how they kept their distance and blended with the chaos. Their technique was good. “The boy scouts, the blond…and that’s it…following the shit heads,” Toby said.
Franklin swung his M4 to the left and peered through his sight. “Got ‘em.”
“Who the hell are the shit heads?” Jackson asked, as he rested his chin on his rifle stock.
“Don’t know,” Toby said, “never seen them. Don’t look military…if I had to guess, I’d say a gang, probably AB in these parts.”
“Which group do we shoot?” Jackson asked.
“Neither,” Toby said. “We don’t get involved, remember.”
“Tell me again, why did we need to investigate the shooting?” Franklin asked.
“We need to know what could potentially come our way,” Toby said. “Right now, I’m not seeing that much.”
“So we let it all just play out,” Franklin said.
Toby shifted his barrel to the left. “That’s right,” he said, as he focused on two men who veered toward Sam, Chet, and Tiff’s rear left flank and fell in behind. Forty yards behind. Crouched low. They stopped, leaned toward each other for a few seconds, faced front, and then shouldered their AR style rifles. Pointed at Sam, Chet, and Tiff.
Toby placed his cross hairs on the head of the closest man and let out a slow exhale. With his body perfectly relaxed, he squeezed the trigger. The rifle spit. The man fell to the ground in a cascade of red. The other man, startled, hesitated for an instant as he jerked his head to the right. Toby squeezed the trigger; the rifle sent another 5.56 round at nearly three-thousand feet per second. The man crumpled to the ground, instantaneously. Toby focused on the downed men. No movement. He swiveled the rifle until his cross hairs were on Sam, then Chet, and then Tiff. No reaction. With the chaos and noise, Toby’s suppressed shots, and the two men down, went unnoticed.
“I thought you said no involvement,” Jackson said, as he peered through his rifle’s scope. “Let it play out, the man says.”
“Starting now,” Toby said. “No involvement starting now. Let’s head back to the camp.”
The three men back crawled into the trees and brush behind them, rose to a crouch, and in precise military fashion, moved invisibly through the foliage.
***
Firing had all but stopped at the barricade. A shot rang out here and there, behind and in front of Sam, but the barricade was mostly quiet. One of the barricade cars burned in the distance. The flames provided enough light to silhouette men moving about. As Frank and his men approached the barricade, Sam realized why the place was quiet. Six additional men stood with their rifles and pistols pointed at five men and a woman sitting on the ground against one of the barricade cars.
About seventy five yards short of the barricade, Sam slowed to a shuffle, crouched lower, and finally took a prone position in the high grass on the highway’s shoulder. Chet and Tiff fell into the grass beside Sam.
“Can anyone tell who’s on the ground?” Sam asked.
“Looks like Hank, and maybe Bill,” Chet said.
Sam peered through his magnified sight. “That’s Hank, Bill, Pete, Lance, and Wanda.”
Tiff glanced at Sam. “You sure?”
“No doubt.”
“Are they okay?” Chet asked.
“Not sure,” Sam said. “Bill isn’t looking all that alert.”
“What are we looking at?” Tiff asked. “We have at least twenty bad guys, all armed to the teeth, apparently determined to exact revenge. Everyone we know is being held captive and maybe about to be shot. And we’re short of the army we’d need to deal with it.”
“That’s about it,” Chet said. “How do you want to handle this?”
Sam glanced at Chet and then Tiff. “I’m open to ideas.”
“We could start shooting,” Chet said. He shrugged his shoulders. “But we’d end up dead.”
“I don’t like that idea,” Tiff said. “Try again.”
“I think if they were going to kill Hank and the guys they would have done it already,” Sam said. “I’m not sure why, but it looks like they plan to hold them for some reason.”
“And the most logical spot is the police department,” Chet said.
Sam nodded as he looked behind. The lodge was still on fire but dying fast. A few bodies littered the highway and the ground between the barricade and the lodge. There wasn’t a lot of movement. Two or three people running down the highway, away from the lodge.
“I wonder what happened to Andy, Steve, Tim, and Jay?” Tiff asked.
“Probably dead,” Chet said.
At that moment Sam caught movement in his peripheral vision, to the right, along the tree line next to the Little River. A man. He crept from tree to tree, moving away from the barricade. Sam couldn’t recognize the guy in the dark, but he was tall, like Andy.
Sam nudged Chet and motioned with a finger to the right. “Movement.”
“I see him,” Chet said.
Tiff looked where Chet was looking. “Tall, lanky, could be Andy.”
“Let’s back scoot out of here,” Sam said. “See if we can meet up with him farther back.”
Chet and Tiff nodded and then began scrunching backwards through the grass. Sam did the same until they were in the grassy ditch next to the highway, out of sight from the barricade.
Sam got to his feet, followed by Chet and Tiff, and low-trotted back the way they had come. They passed the still-burning lodge, went another hundred yards, and then crossed to the north side of the highway. They entered the tree line next to the river and began making their way west, toward the man they saw.
Sam stopped. When Chet and Tiff stopped moving, Sam listened. He heard a stick crack and then a stumble, like someone had tripped over a root. Sam motioned everyone down to their knees behind a tree and some thick bushes. They waited.
The sound of rustling through the brush got closer, and closer, until finally Sam could make out the dark hulk of a man in the foliage. Sam let the man get closer, close enough to hear his breathing. When the man was passing only a couple of feet in front of Sam’s bush, Sam suddenly stood, grabbed the man’s arm with one hand, put the other hand over the man’s mouth, and jerked him to his back on the ground. Up close, even in the dark, Sam recognized Andy.
Sam bent down closer so Andy could recognize the face. Sam removed his hand from Andy’s mouth when he felt Andy’s muscles relax.
“Keep it quiet,” Sam said. “What the hell hap
pened?”
CHAPTER 16
Sam heard Andy swallow hard.
“It’s okay, just Sam, Chet, and Tiff here,” Sam said. “What happened?”
Chet and Tiff moved closer.
At that moment, a bright light flashed in the sky, followed almost immediately by a loud boom of thunder.
Andy sat up and put his back against a tree. He used the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe sweat from his face. “Three guys approached the barricade and asked to speak with whoever was in charge. Bill raised his hand. The next thing I knew, there were gun blasts, ringing in my ears, and Steve, Jay, and Bill were bleeding on the ground. The three guys ducked down in front of the cars, and then an army sprang from the trees and rushed forward, shooting as they moved. I ducked and ran for the river.”
Another flash in the sky and a clap of thunder.
“What about Hank, Pete, Lance, and Wanda?” Tiff asked. “How did they get captured?”
“I heard a truck engine, massive gunfire, and then it all stopped. By then I was in the trees. The RDF truck was stopped fifty yards back. Smoke poured from under the hood. I saw Hank rise up from under the dash and put his hands out the window. The next thing I knew, Hank and the others were surrounded. I stayed quiet until they marched everyone to the barricade, and then I snuck out of there. And then you grabbed me,” Andy said, pointing at Sam.
“I still don’t get why they didn’t just kill them on the spot,” Chet said.
“I can answer that,” Andy said.
Tiff bent closer. “We’re all ears.”
Andy wiped his face again. “They want you guys.”
“How do you know?” Sam asked.
“The bald guy recognized Bill. He said something about the warehouse and then asked about the two guys and the girl,” Andy said. “He had to be talking about you guys.”
Sam rubbed the full length of his face with one hand.
“Makes sense,” Chet said.
Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, it does.”
“Now what?” Tiff asked.
Sam looked toward the barricade and saw Frank and his twenty something men marching Hank and the others down the highway toward town. Lance and Pete helped Bill walk. “That’s a very good question.” He looked back at Andy. “Where’s your gun?”
“Dropped it, I guess. I just ran.”
“What about Tim?” Tiff asked.
“I don’t know. None of us had a chance.”
“Uh-huh,” Chet mumbled.
“If they get to the police department, decide to send out patrols, they might find the Hummer,” Tiff said.
Sam looked back toward the barricade. Frank and his men were only sixty yards away, walking down the middle of the highway. “Too late to move now,” he whispered, as he went prone behind the bush. Chet and Tiff followed suit. Sam reached up and pulled Andy’s torso to the ground.
Sam followed Frank’s head with the magnified crosshairs of his rifle sight. When the group was directly across, only fifty feet or so away, Frank’s head filled the sight, even in the dark. Sam swung the sight over to Bill. A dark blotch, probably blood, matted his hair just above his left ear. He looked dazed. Man, that guy gets hit in the head a lot. Some of the men were mumbling something, but Sam couldn’t make out the words. Suddenly, vehicle engines in the distance, west of the barricade, broke the relative silence. Sam turned his head in that direction and saw two pickups and an old Chevy sedan, each driven by one man, barrel through the barricade slot. Headlights lit the asphalt and the backs of the group of men walking. Sam pushed his face deeper into the leaves and dirt.
Another bright flash. Thunder boomed. And then the sky opened up with a deluge of fat raindrops. Sam’s visibility was cut to half of what it was before, which was almost nothing in the dark.
The vehicles pulled to the side of the group and stopped. Everyone, including the prisoners, squeezed into the three vehicles. The headlights disappeared a mile down, when they swung to the right on the street to the police department.
Tiff sat up. “Like I said, now what?”
Chet pulled the cloth of his soaked T-shirt away from his chest.
Sam wiped the rain from his face with one hand. “We get to the Hummer, make a hasty retreat, and regroup,” Sam said. “But first we check the barricade.”
Sam got to his feet and stepped out on the wet asphalt.
Chet and Tiff joined him.
Sam looked back at Andy. His dark form was huddled on the ground behind a tree. “Andy, you coming?”
“I’ll wait here,” Andy said.
Sam nodded and then scurried toward the barricade with his rifle shouldered. Chet and Tiff stayed close behind. Tiff turned to check their rear often.
Sam slid to a stop on the wet asphalt, in the slot between the two lines of vehicles. Sam knelt beside two bodies on the ground.
Chet followed and immediately stepped to the left to check a body. He knelt and placed two fingers on the man’s neck. “Dead. It’s Tim.”
“Same with Steve and Jay,” Sam said, as he stood and glanced back toward town.
Tiff had moved back to the RDF truck and was checking the driver and two bodies in the rear.
Chet shuffled farther down the barricade to check two more bodies. He knelt and then almost immediately stood back up. He pointed his thumb to the ground and then started walking back toward Sam.
“Looks like they took all the weapons and ammo,” Chet said, as he joined Sam.
Sam nodded. “I don’t get how Frank and his goons found us.”
“Someone in Marysville,” Chet said. “Maybe one of the police officers.”
Sam glanced down the road toward Marysville and then back toward Townsend. “Yeah, I guess it doesn’t really matter. Fact is, he’s here.”
“And he brought an army,” Chet said.
Sam and Chet joined Tiff at the RDF truck.
“Three dead,” she said. “And the truck’s dead, too.”
“We should have taken Frank’s vehicles back at the distribution center,” Chet said. “They wouldn’t be here if we had. I think I mentioned it.”
“You did,” Sam said.
“Hind sight is twenty-twenty,” Tiff said. “We need to get to the Hummer.” She turned and they began trotting back toward where they had left Andy.
At around the right spot, Sam, Chet, and Tiff slowed to a fast walk. Sam quietly called out Andy’s name. No response. Sam moved farther down the tree line and called his name again. No response.
“He’s out of here,” Chet said.
“This was apparently all too real for him,” Tiff said.
Sam and Chet nodded.
“Let’s cross to the south side and down the highway,” Sam said. “Tiff, your eyes are better in the dark, you take point.”
Tiff accelerated her pace and passed Sam.
Sam let her get about ten yards ahead before he kept pace. He glanced behind and saw that Chet was keeping pace about that far back.
They ran the mile to the side road where Frank had turned toward the police department. Tiff came to a stop at the corner and took cover behind a bush. Sam and Chet pulled up next to her.
“We continue on and cut through farther up,” Sam said, as he inhaled deeply to get his breathing under control.
“Let’s take a breather for a minute,” Chet said, breathing hard.
Tiff shook her head. “You guys need to get on a training program.”
Tiff took a couple of steps into the intersection, peered down the road toward the police station, and then darted back to the bush. “No lights, no activity, no sounds. We need to go now.”
Sam nodded. “Let’s get moving.”
Tiff spun around and launched herself forward while keeping her head in the direction of the police department.
Sam and Chet each took a deep breath and then dashed after her.
Another half mile down the road Sam caught up to Tiff and motioned for her to follow. He veered to the right, into th
e trees, and slowed as he navigated around trees and brush in the almost pitch dark.
Fifty yards in, Sam stopped behind a bush and went to one knee.
Chet and Tiff joined him. “What’s up?” Chet asked.
“The Hummer should be another seventy-five yards or so,” Sam said. “We should go into stealth mode; try to avoid an ambush if they are waiting for us.”
Sam saw Chet and Tiff’s wet faces and matted hair move up and down in the dark, and then he rose to a crouch. He carefully placed each foot as he moved forward, bush to bush, tree to tree. He heard almost no noise behind him, indicating Chet and Tiff were equally careful with their foot placement. After fifty yards, Sam paused. When Chet and Tiff stopped behind him, he cocked his head to listen. He turned his head in all directions. Satisfied there were no unnatural noises, he shouldered his rifle and stepped forward.
Chet and Tiff spread out, Chet to the left flank; Tiff to the right. They all moved forward as quietly as possible, in line formation. Soon the dark mass of the Hummer stood in front of them, only thirty more yards. Sam stopped, put his fist in the air, and then waited for Chet and Tiff to notice. Within seconds, they both stopped and went to a kneeling position with their rifles shouldered and pointed into the woods to the rear and front of the Hummer. Sam took a few cautious steps and then leapt into a mad dash for the truck. He slid to a stop against the front passenger door and immediately dropped to a kneeling position. He listened. There was nothing to hear except a few crickets, and raindrops striking the leaves. He motioned for Chet and Tiff to come in, not sure if they could actually see him. Soon their silhouettes emerged from the foliage and joined Sam at the truck.
Sam leaned toward Chet and Tiff. “They either haven’t found it, or they’re waiting for us to get in,” Sam whispered.
“Before we try to bug out of here, I think we should get eyes on the police station,” Tiff said. “I’d like to know what they’re doing.”
“Let’s take a look at the police department,” Sam said, as he shouldered his rifle and started off toward the school in semi-stealth mode. Chet and Tiff followed. The drizzle, darkness, and lack of lights gave the whole place an eerie feeling.