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What's Left of My World (Book 2): This We Will Defend

Page 15

by C. A. Rudolph


  Lauren’s good mood was interrupted by the topic. She began to feel paranoid—and that had become an all too familiar feeling lately. She started scanning around the woods on her side of the road. Every so often, Lauren’s imagination would play games with her and an apparition of a face or even a body half-hiding behind a tree would appear and then just vanish. She shook it off, though, and contemplated Megan’s question.

  Lauren began to recollect the attacks of the previous summer—which were little more than minor run-ins compared to what’d most recently occurred. She recalled that the assaults had originated from the Virginia side of Wolf Gap and that had been the reason the road had to be barricaded. She thought of the woman and her daughter that she’d encountered near White Rock Cliff, who, before the attack, were supposedly there to only forage for food in the woods. They didn’t have any long-term gear with them, and as such, she guessed had to have come from somewhere nearby.

  The National Forest offered thousands of acres in which to set up a temporary or even permanent residence if a person or group of people were so inclined and had the skills to make it happen. Lauren began to recall all the camping, fishing, and recreational areas, all of which had access to freshwater streams and other amenities that would go a long way to permitting a small civilization to exist.

  Megan slowed the Polaris down as they drove past the Saunderses’ home. Peter and Amy were both outside talking with Michael and Kristen Perry, who were their closest neighbors. Jacob and Liam were throwing a football back and forth in the front yard. All present appeared to be enjoying the sun and the unexpected warmth it had brought along, like any other normal day. Megan and Lauren waved as they passed and received waves in return just before returning to cruising speed.

  “I’ve had way too much time to myself lately,” Megan said as the wind whipped through her hair. “And I’ve gone over all the possibilities in my head a hundred times. My gut feeling…is that they’re camped out at Trout Pond. It’s a perfect spot. It’s like a smaller version of what we have.”

  “There’s permanent buildings there. Cabins with woodstoves and a big main shelter. With a little planning and ingenuity, they could’ve pulled it off.”

  “Yeah…there’s also well water and a septic system,” Megan said. “Trout Pond and Rockcliff Lake were both well-known fishing spots. I think at one time they used to be the most-fished lakes in this part of the National Forest. The Rangers kept Trout Pond stocked so tight, you could almost walk across it.”

  “Well-known…” Lauren said with a raised brow. “As in, someplace familiar to people who knew the National Forest on their weekend jaunts out of the cities.”

  “I remember my dad getting so irritated with all the vehicle traffic in the summertime,” Megan said. “He used to drive his M35 into Wardensville and try to run them off the road—accidentally.”

  Lauren giggled and Megan half-turned to her, keeping her left eye on the road.

  “That’s it, then,” Megan verified. “Isn’t it?”

  Lauren put her hand on her chin and produced an inquisitive look as she considered the possibilities. “I think it has to be.”

  Halfway through a long straightaway on Trout Run Road, the girls were now approaching the northern boundary of their community. The mountains that marked the western and eastern confines of the valley had begun to get much closer to each other. As the narrow bridge over Trout Run came into view, what they both saw next caused them to do a double take.

  Two old, rusted-out cars had been pulled together bumper-to-bumper in a V formation, completely blocking the bridge. Near the cars’ front bumpers sat a white-bearded old man. He was wearing an oily Stetson hat. He was alone and there was a burn barrel sitting near him with a small fire going in it. The man had a gargantuan side-by-side shotgun cradled in his arms and he was lazily smoking a pipe. He didn’t seem to have a care in the world and sat on his perch like it was just any other day.

  “Is that…a lawn chair?” Megan asked, not believing what she was seeing.

  Lauren nodded. “Yeah. That’s exactly what it is. That has to be Mr. Brady.”

  Pulling closer, Megan slowed the Polaris down and prepared to make a three-point turnabout. As she reversed backward, she stopped for a moment and waved. George Brady pulled his pipe from his mouth, rubbed his beard, and then tossed his hand irreverently in the air.

  “Guess he’s not much for conversation,” Megan joked.

  Lauren giggled as Megan finished turning the Polaris around and accelerated southbound. The drive south seemed to take much less time than the northbound one, and before they knew it, they were already passing the Russells’ cabin, then Megan’s house, and soon after, they passed by the charred ruins of what was once the Schmidts’ home.

  “So sad,” said Megan.

  Lauren nodded but didn’t say anything. The ruins were only a mild visual representation of what her world had become. She began to reminisce about all the good and bad times she’d experienced since the world had changed—one daydream leading into another. Nothing served to interrupt her thought process, that is, until Megan took a sudden right turn onto the old logging road just before passing the Taylors’ home.

  “Meg—I thought we were headed up to see your brothers,” Lauren said, her voice marked with confusion.

  “Just a brief detour.”

  “To where?”

  “Aren’t you even the least bit curious?” Megan asked, glancing over to Lauren as the Polaris began bouncing over the rough forest trail, sloshing through sporadic mud puddles.

  “I’m curious by nature,” Lauren said, now understanding what Megan intended. “But I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

  “We won’t go too far or get too close, I promise,” Megan assured her. “I just have to know.”

  Megan paused as she navigated the wet, overgrown trail. “This will take us to the top of Devil’s Hole. We can take the road to the Trout Pond trailhead and hike a mile to the overlook. We should be able to see all of the rec area from there—now that the leaves are off the trees.”

  Lauren displayed a look of dissent and glanced down at her ankle. Megan’s eyes followed Lauren’s.

  “Do you think your ankle can handle the hike?” Megan asked. “It’s pretty flat.”

  Lauren shrugged. She didn’t like the fact that this decision had been made without her consent. She was also unfamiliar with the area, unsure of what might lie ahead, and she didn’t like that either. She pulled her AR-15 close and performed a press-check. She then began mentally inventorying all the items that she was carrying in her pack.

  “You know, just before we left, Fred asked me to keep a close eye on you,” Lauren said.

  Megan tilted her head. “And?”

  “And…I’m beginning to understand why.”

  Lauren couldn’t lie to herself. She wanted to go. All her life she’d been taught to be adventurous. She’d been on hundreds of adventures in her lifetime, and her parents’ love for the outdoors had been instilled in her. She missed those days. She missed those adventures. And she missed them now more than ever. There was little doubt in her mind that Megan’s plan was a precarious one. But it was an adventure and that intrigued her. She wanted to go.

  “I’m going to go on the record and say that I don’t like this, Meg,” Lauren stated. “Those areas up there aren’t secured—we have no idea what to expect once we get there—and that makes it flat-out dangerous. But I can’t help but be just as absorbed by this as you are.”

  “So I have your blessing, then?”

  “I wouldn’t call it that. But I’m sick of sitting around and waiting for the next time they come,” Lauren said. “If we know where they’re coming from, maybe we can take the fight to them and put an end to all this.” She paused and ran her fingers through her hair. “So let’s just get this done and get the hell back as quick as possible. Deal?”

  Megan slowed the Polaris and turned to her.

  “Deal,” she said w
ith a grin. “Thank you, Lauren.”

  “Thank me when we get back home.”

  Lauren considered grabbing the radio and calling their plans into everyone right then and there, but decided against it. She knew that her mother was probably already livid with her for going on patrol, and if she knew where they were now headed, she would flip her lid. It’s better to beg forgiveness than ask permission, Lauren thought, convincing herself.

  After a long while traversing the logging road, it began to get steep and treacherous. Megan handled the UTV like a pro, however, and took her time, careful to keep the vehicle on all four wheels. Upon reaching a gravel road that ran along the ridge of Devil’s Hole Mountain, Megan turned right and began to increase speed. Lauren was scanning every inch of the road in front of her and, as well, the woods on her side of the road. She turned around occasionally, but all she could see behind them was the mud that the treads on the Polaris’s tires were kicking up.

  “Don’t go too fast, Meg,” Lauren suggested.

  “I thought you wanted to get in and get out fast?”

  “I do, but not too fast. I can’t see what’s going on around us. We don’t need any surprises.”

  Megan nodded and slowed the Polaris down to a moderate gallop. She too was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable being in an area this untraveled. She was familiar with her surroundings, but a lot had changed since the last time she’d been here. At one point, Megan turned around to verify that her rifle was lying in the backseat under her backpack, and Lauren noticed her checking on it.

  After several minutes of uneventful travel along the gravel forest road, Megan pulled into a small gravel parking area at the head of Trout Pond Trail. With the Polaris parked, the girls exited the vehicle and donned their packs, then headed up and into the woods along the trail, rifles in hand and at the ready. Lauren struggled at first but soon found that her ankle was sturdy enough for the trip.

  After a mile or so, the trail leveled off and, just before it began to wind back down the mountain, curved into a rock outcropping that served as an overlook with a view downward into Trout Pond Recreation Area. Lauren proceeded to the edge of the outcropping and motioned for Megan to stay low. Pulling her binoculars from her pack, she peered through them, taking a closer look around at the areas below.

  “There’s a lot of vehicles down there,” Lauren said. “And a lot of tents.”

  She continued scanning the area until her eyes came across one of the large permanent structures. Outside, a group of people were gathered, and others were milling about. There were some older model trucks parked near the crowd.

  “Bingo,” Lauren said. She then handed her binoculars to Megan and pointed to what she had just seen.

  Megan brought the binoculars to her eyes. “Son of a bitch,” she said after a moment. “I was right.”

  “How many would you say are down there?” Lauren asked.

  “Fifteen or twenty from what I can see,” Megan said. “Who knows how many others there are, though.”

  “Let’s get back and figure out how we’re going to tell the others about this,” Lauren said. “We’re going to catch hell for coming up here, but I think now after what we saw, it’ll be worth it.”

  The girls made their way back to the Polaris. They tossed their things into the backseat again and, after turning it around, continued back down the gravel road in the opposite direction. Lauren went back to scanning the road and woods around them. Everything seemed fine for the first couple of miles until she noticed Megan’s eyes staring hard at the rearview mirror. Lauren whipped her head around to see what had gotten her friend’s attention.

  “Oh shit,” Lauren urgently gasped. “How long have they been back there?”

  “A minute or so—maybe two,” Megan said, her voice chock-full of anxiety. “I think. I honestly thought I was seeing things at first.”

  Lauren unbuckled her seat belt and turned herself around to face backward. She brought her rifle to her shoulder, balanced it on the seatback, and put her eye to the scope, then adjusted the focal length to get a better view. About a hundred yards behind them, an old pickup truck was tailing them. Lauren began counting heads. She could see that in addition to the driver, there were two passengers inside the truck and at least two more riding in the bed, one standing up over top of the cab. The one standing had a rifle pointed in their direction.

  “There’s at least five of them—one of them has a rifle pointed at us,” Lauren began, and without pause said, “Floor it, Meg!”

  Megan slammed the gas pedal down, and after a slight delay, the UTV’s four-stroke turbocharged engine rocketed the machine down the road. Lauren wrapped the seat belt around her as best she could to keep from falling out of the vehicle, which was now approaching seventy or even eighty miles per hour. With all the mud and gravel the Polaris was now kicking up, it had only made it more difficult to see their pursuers. Lauren caught Megan glancing up at the rearview mirror.

  “Keep your eyes on the road, Meg,” Lauren instructed. “Let me handle what’s behind us.”

  “Sorry. I-I’m trying,” Megan responded frantically. “How close are they?”

  “Too close.”

  “Are they getting closer?”

  Lauren paused as she lined her scope’s reticle up on the truck.

  “Yes.”

  “FUCK!” Megan exclaimed as she entered full panic mode. “Oh God…Lauren, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…I didn’t mean to—”

  A bullet whizzed over the Polaris and another just beside Megan’s left arm, catching the driver’s side mirror and smashing it into pieces. Megan shrieked as pieces of shattered glass from the mirror covered her face and chest.

  “Are you okay?” Lauren asked.

  Megan recovered quickly and began brushing off the shards. She turned her face so that Lauren could check for damage. There were only a few minor cuts. Her eyes were undamaged, but were full of tears.

  “You’re okay,” Lauren assured her. “You’re okay, Meg…just a few cuts.”

  Before their pursuers could get off another shot, Lauren lined up her crosshairs on the forehead of the man with the rifle. She flipped off the safety and pulled the trigger on her AR, and a single sixty-two-grain M855 bullet erupted from the barrel. The man’s head could be seen through her scope as it exploded in a puff of pink mist. His body leaned back and to the left and eventually fell out of the truck onto the road. Lauren took a breath. She expected the driver to stop the truck to check on the welfare of his fallen comrade, but the truck didn’t stop. She took aim on the truck’s radiator and, just before pulling the trigger again, had another thought. End this.

  Lauren then took aim again, but this time, she overlaid the crosshairs on the driver’s head. She exhaled and gripped the rifle as tightly as she could and then pulled the trigger once. And then again, repeatedly peppering the truck’s windshield with rounds. The inside surface of the windshield turned red as it was splattered with blood. The truck began to lurch back and forth erratically and then transitioned into a violent roll after it had gone completely sideways in the road. The remaining passengers in the bed of the truck were thrown several hundred feet into the adjacent woods. The truck rolled over and over itself until it came to a stop on the side of the road in a heap of smoke and debris.

  Lauren flipped the safety on and arranged herself back into the passenger seat, setting her rifle down at an angle on the floorboard. Megan was rigid and she whimpered through her pressed lips. Lauren put her hand consolingly on Megan’s shoulder.

  “It’s okay, Meg,” Lauren said. “I got them all. They’re dead.”

  Megan let up off the accelerator and began shaking her head back and forth. She knew that the logging road was just up ahead and that they were almost home free. As her panic began to subside, she started to feel guilty. “This is all my fault. I don’t know what I was thinking, Lauren…I—”

  Once again, Megan was interrupted mid-sentence. As the Polaris cleared a small peak i
n the road and began to descend, a second truck abruptly pulled out and cut them off from a hidden recess in the woods. Megan screamed and reacted. She turned hard on the Polaris and lost control, sending it off the road and into the woods. As it turned sideways, it began to roll aggressively over itself. Lauren hadn’t had a chance to put her safety belt back on and was ejected. She flew into a large mass of thick laurels several yards away from where the Polaris’s roll came to a sudden stop on its side against a tree.

  Chapter 10

  “There is no stronger love in this world than the love a mother feels for her children. She cries for them, she worries about them, she would die for them.”

  —Unknown

  Trout Run Valley

  Hardy County, West Virginia

  Saturday, October 16th (Present day)

  Grace turned her back to pint-sized Emily Taylor and began counting. Emily took off at a sprint down the hallway, looking for a place to hide in the Russells’ cabin. When Grace got to twenty, she turned around and gleefully said, “Ready or not, here I come,” then started looking around the room, the kitchen, and finally edged down the hallway, attempting to find the toddler’s hiding spot.

  While Christian napped with one eye open in the recliner, Michelle and Sarah sat beside each other at the table, making small talk while sipping on their choice of beverage. So long as their supplies lasted, Michelle preferred coffee in the morning. Mixed with the fresh goat’s milk that Sarah had brought along today, it was especially delicious. Sarah was more of a tea drinker, although she preferred it to be much cooler than hers was at the moment. She wasn’t in a hurry to finish it.

  Emily’s youthfulness was an amazing aliment for the mundane. Michelle and Sarah took turns talking and laughing together while watching Grace and Emily play games, both enjoying the joyous laughter that filled the cabin.

  “You and Bryan have your hands full with her,” Michelle said after a few moments of silence.

 

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