Dark Revival

by Grace Hamilton

  Her mind raced with the possibilities. What if they’d been tied up in there and she’d been glad to see it burn?

  “Shh, they're coming,” Bryan said, duck-walking back to their position.

  In her despair, Megan hadn't even noticed he left.

  They slowly moved back about twenty feet into the trees and brush. The men had fanned out and were stomping out smoldering embers. Another one had a shovel and was tossing dirt on the areas that were still burning.

  “Look at this!” one of the men called out, holding up a charred piece of the rope.

  “Uh oh,” Wyatt said. His words were foreboding.

  It didn't take long for an alarm to start screeching. The men went from casual firefighting mode to soldier mode. They were ready to kill.

  “We need to get out of here, now!” Wyatt hissed.

  They all scrambled, doing their best to stay low and out of sight. It didn't work. Beams of high-powered flashlights crisscrossed over the area, catching the fleeing intruders in their light.

  The sound of gunfire had them all jumping to their full height and running as fast as their legs would carry them. There was no rhyme or reason to their flight. It was an all-out run-for-your-life scenario. Megan caught a glimpse of Ryland up ahead, which gave her some comfort. He would be safe, she told herself.

  A bullet whizzed by her head, causing her to duck instinctively. A grunt and then a thud, stopped her in her tracks. She turned to see Bryan's figure face down on the ground.

  “No,” Wyatt grabbed her arm, when she turned to go back. “You can't help him.”

  She choked back a sob and continued running. The sound of automatic weapons propelling her forward. Neil's soldiers were pulling back. The gunfire was slowing and she could tell they were putting some distance between them.

  A single rifle shot rang out a split second before she heard Albert yell out in pain.

  “Sniper!” Wyatt yelled, causing them all to drop to the ground.

  Megan and Wyatt both crawled to where Albert was writhing on the ground, trying to grab his leg. Brenda was beside him, deflecting his hands and murmuring in a low voice.

  “My leg, he hit my leg,” Albert moaned.

  A soft voice cut through the darkness. “Should I go back?”

  It was Ryland. The relief washed over Megan, knowing he had made it out alive.

  “Go. Get back to the cabin,” she ordered.

  “He's not going to be able to walk,” Brenda said.

  The sound of crunching branches had Wyatt drawing his rifle up and aiming into the darkness.

  “It's me,” Aiden said. “I tried to help him, but, he, he didn't make it,” he said, obviously in shock. Seeing Bryan gunned down had to bring up bad memories of his parents being shot in front of him.

  Megan felt bad for the young kid. “Get over here and get down. They're still shooting.”

  “Not all of them,” Aiden said in a cold voice. “I killed one.”

  Megan knew Aiden didn't have a gun. She didn't question how he killed the man.

  “We're going to have to carry him back,” Wyatt said. “We don't have time to make a stretcher. I'll take his top. Megan, you hold your arms under his butt. Aiden, you grab his good leg and Brenda, you do what you have to for the wounded leg.”

  Brenda shook her head. “No, it's too far. We can't carry him all that way. Trust me, I know the adrenaline is pumping now, but we won’t make it.”

  Wyatt seemed a little shocked to have his order denied. He looked at Megan, who shrugged her shoulders in response. They couldn't leave him here and she certainly didn't want to hang out and wait to see if Neil's men were still following.

  Brenda pulled the belt out of her pants, before pulling off the plaid shirt she wore over a plain white t-shirt. She wadded up the plaid, pressed it against the injury and fastened the belt around his leg, pulling it tight with the cloth held in place.

  “That should keep some pressure on it to stop the bleeding. I'll have to see how bad it is when we don't have to worry about anyone on our tail,” she said, wiping her bloodied hands on her pants.

  “Where are we going to go?” Megan asked the question they all needed to know.

  “The hunting cabin,” Wyatt said.

  Megan looked at him. “We left there because it was too dangerous. Now you want us to go back there?”

  “We don't have an option. We can't make it back to the cabin and we can't stay here. Our best choice is that hunting cabin, even if it’s too close for comfort,” he reasoned.

  “What about Ryland? He went ahead,” Aiden asked.

  Wyatt paused. “Do you know your way back to the cabin?”

  Aiden nodded his head. “Yes, sir. I'm real good with directions and stuff.”

  “Get to the cabin, tell Willow where we are. Stay at the cabin,” he ordered.

  Megan cleared her throat. “Wouldn't it be better if we stuck together?”

  He sighed. “Yes, but I don't want Willow trying to get up to the cabin by herself and I doubt Albert is going to be walking anytime soon.”

  “We'll get Albert to the cabin. Brenda can work on him. You stay and guard the place and I'll go back for Willow,” Megan said.

  “No. No way. I don't like that plan at all,” he replied.

  “Can't I bring Willow to the hunting cabin?” Aiden asked. “It will be me, Jayden, Ryland, Frankie and Willow with the baby. I'm a really good shot and I promise I won't let anything happen to them.”

  Brenda was holding Albert's wrist. “We need to go now. The boy can do it. I trust him,” she stated.

  With their decision essentially made, it was time to move Albert.

  “We'll make a chair with our hands clasped beneath his butt,” Brenda instructed. “This way one of us gets a break while the other two carry him. I don't like his leg hanging, but it's the best way for this long-distance evacuation.”

  Megan and Wyatt both stood facing each other, clasping their arms together to form a chair for Albert to sit in. He would be propped up on their shoulders as they walked. Brenda leaned down and ordered Albert to wrap his arms around her neck and use his good leg to push himself into the chair.

  Albert moaned as he was lifted off the ground.

  Aiden turned to head in the opposite direction. “Be careful,” Wyatt said in a firm voice. “Run, hide, you do whatever it takes to stay alive. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Megan watched as the young boy ran off into the night. It felt a little strange to have only the four of them out in the forest. Their number had been dramatically depleted and in the quiet of the night, it was very obvious.

  “Slow and easy,” Wyatt instructed, interrupting her thoughts.

  Despite their heavy burden, they managed to make good time through the forest. Once again, they opted to take the long way around, back up the mountain to the old hunting cabin. Adrenaline and the fear of more men coming their way drove them on. None of them spoke as they walked. Megan was reeling with the realization another one of her family had been taken. They were being picked off one by one. When did they give up and cut their losses? She couldn't ask them to sacrifice their lives for her own agenda any longer.

  Her heart hurt under the immense guilt and despair she felt. She was losing everything and everyone she loved. They were fighting a battle they couldn't possibly win. It was time to reevaluate. Caitlin and Rosie could already be dead. The thought made her physically ill and she had to fight to take a breath.

  “Relax,” Wyatt ordered. “We're almost there.”

  She didn't answer. She couldn't. Her throat was raw as she fought back the tears that threatened to fall. Everything was wrong.

  19

  It was a long walk up to the hunting cabin. While they took plenty of breaks along the way. Megan felt horrible for Albert, who was in and out of consciousness. They were deep in the trees, where even the moonlight did little to light their way, especially with the smoke filtering what did break through. Brenda ke
pt promising Albert she would fix it once they got back to the cabin.

  They were afraid to use their headlamps for fear of alerting the soldiers to their whereabouts. They hadn't seen or heard anyone, but they couldn't take the risk. The smell of smoke in the air was a constant reminder of what they’d witnessed.

  “Do you think the fire will spread this way?” Megan asked.

  Wyatt tried to soothe her fears. “I don't know. It looked like they were making headway. It wasn't very big, to begin with. Not like a true forest fire. It would have hit the stream and that would’ve helped slow it down. Plus, we're far enough away from the fire to get out should we see the glow signaling its approach.”

  “How you doing, old man?” Wyatt asked Albert as they changed carriers. It was Megan's turn to take a break.

  “I want to shoot every one of them,” he mumbled.

  Megan smiled; glad he hadn't lost his spirit. That was a good sign.

  “We're close,” Megan whispered, afraid they would run into Neil's men. It was nice having the distance between them when they were at Brenda's old cabin. Now, they were right back where they’d started.

  The silhouette of the small cabin came into view. Megan rushed ahead to open the door for Brenda and Wyatt. Once they managed to put Albert gently on the floor, it was time to secure the place as best they could.

  “It doesn't look like anyone has been up here since we left,” Megan whispered, afraid the men were nearby.

  “We should be okay for tonight. Hopefully, Albert's wound is minor and he can move tomorrow. I don't like it up here and I don't want the kids or Willow here. It's too risky!” he hissed.

  “I know, but we’re stretched thin and let's face it, Willow, plus four boys and an infant, isn't exactly a force to be reckoned with. I’d prefer to have them close so we can keep an eye on them,” she explained. “Plus, there's strength in numbers. Isn't that what you always tell me?”

  Wyatt didn't answer her. Instead, he walked around the cabin, putting branches under the single window and around the door. She knew it was his alert system. Not hi-tech, but all they could do for now. If only they had Duke.

  They went back inside. Brenda had torn Albert's pants and was doing her best to clean the wound with some of the water they’d left behind.

  “I really need my kit,” she grumbled. “Anything. I have nothing. How am I supposed to take care of this when I don't even have a bandage?”

  Megan and Wyatt didn't answer her. She wasn't expecting them to. They stood out of the way, letting Brenda do what she did best. She made small grunts and clicking noises as she used her fingers to touch his leg.

  “You'll be fine,” she declared. “You won't be running marathons, but I don't think there’s any serious damage. I would typically stitch it, but without antibiotics, I don't want to. I don't know herbs like Rosie and can't offer you a tonic.”

  Megan put a hand on Brenda's shoulder. “You did great. You'll know what signs to watch for. I remember some of the herbs. Tomorrow I can go out and look for some,” Megan promised her.

  “He shouldn't have been up here in the first place. I told him that leg needed rest,” she replied.

  “He’s right here and he’s a grown man who can make his own decisions. We've all been shot before. I'll live,” Albert grumbled, but there was a softness to it.

  Megan smiled. The two were a very odd couple and had a very funny way of showing their affection, but it seemed to work for them.

  “He needs rest. I'll reevaluate it in the morning,” Brenda said, sounding more like a doctor than a worried girlfriend.

  “I'll stay up. You three sleep,” Wyatt ordered.

  Megan rolled her eyes. “How many times do we have to do this? We'll take shifts. We all need rest.”

  He squinted his eyes at her and she glared back. “Fine. I'll take the first shift.”

  She nodded, knowing he had no intention of waking any of them. That was fine. Sleeping on the hard floor wasn't exactly conducive to a restful night's sleep. She would relieve him in a bit, whether he liked it or not.

  As she lay on the hard, wood floor of the tiny cabin, her mind raced. No one had said much about Bryan's death, but she knew it was something that would have to be dealt with in the light of day. Everything was wrong. Nothing was the way it should be. Each of them had fought so hard, but it didn't matter. They were constantly on the losing end.

  She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs at the injustice of the world. Guys like Neil ran roughshod over people like her and it was maddening. She couldn't call 911 and demand he be arrested. No one was there to lock him up in prison and throw away the key. No, in this world, justice was served in a different way—a bullet between the eyes. She wanted to be the one to do it. The man was evil to the core and needed to be exterminated.

  The thought gave her some comfort and she was able to drift off to sleep. It was only a little alarming that the thing that gave her peace was the thought of murdering another human.

  20

  Aiden struggled to draw in a breath. The smoke was making it difficult to breathe or see in front of him. He couldn't let them down. They’d taken him and Jayden in and he had to prove they were worthy of keeping around. He didn't want to be alone, again.

  He slowed down, his legs refusing to keep up the punishing pace. His arms ached with what must have been a hundred scratches and a few deep cuts from wayward tree branches that jumped out of nowhere. He was too afraid to take an actual path and preferred to stick to the thick forest, which made his journey back to the larger cabin much harder.

  He started to cough, again. Between the lack of air in his lungs from pushing his body too hard and the smoke, he was feeling lightheaded. He wouldn't give up. Wyatt was counting on him to get to Willow and the baby. His brother was counting on him to stay alive and that is exactly what he intended to do. His dad, before he’d been senselessly killed, had always told him to look out for his brother.

  Jayden may be the same age as him, but he was much more naive. He was the quiet brother who preferred reading over playing sports with the rest of the kids at school. Aiden had to step in to defend him on more than one occasion when some of the other kids bullied his brother. They didn't know him like he did. Jayden was smart, like really smart and playing ball games was boring to him. It didn't challenge him—at least that's what their mother used to say.

  Aiden blinked his eyes to make sure what he was seeing was truly there. It was the cabin. The moonlight highlighted the outline of the old shack they’d been calling home. He longed for a home, for a family. These people were good. That's what he missed the most about the world before everything went dark. Good people. They were hard to find these days.

  He approached the cabin, weary and on alert. He had no idea if the men had found the place and had taken it over. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door and was met with the barrel of the old shotgun they’d been carrying with them for the past couple months.

  He smiled. “Hey, Jayden.”

  His brother lowered the weapon, looked him over in the muted light from a flashlight that had been pointed down to avoid it being too bright.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yep, a few scratches and really thirsty, but I'm fine.”

  He looked around the room realizing there were two new faces. He looked back at Jayden, questioning him without speaking a word.

  “That's Tara and Amy. They’re two of the people that went missing when they fled to the hunting cabin,” he explained.

  “What about the other two we've been looking for?” he asked, hoping he could tell Megan and Wyatt their loved ones were safe and sound.

  Jayden shook his head.

  Ryland was holding his baby brother with the little girl close by, touching the baby's hand.

  “I'm Aiden,” he said, extending his hand to Tara. “Good to meet you, ma'am.”

  Tara smiled, before looking at Willow with a peculiar expression.

  “
They're good boys, raised right. You'll get used to the ma'am and sirs,” she smiled.

  “Aiden, where are the others,” Willow asked.

  He gulped down the lump in his throat. Flashes of Bryan filled his mind. He didn't know how to tell them, but knew there was no time for weeping and mourning. Right now, they had to get ready to move to the hunting cabin. Grief would have to wait.

  “Um, they’re at the hunting cabin. Wyatt sent me here to bring y'all up there,” he started.

  “Is everyone okay?” Tara asked.

  He cleared his throat, unable to meet her eyes. “Albert's been shot and is hurt bad. They had to carry him and couldn't make it this far. That's why they had to go to the other cabin,” he explained.

  Willow was watching him a little too carefully. “Brenda, Megan and Bryan?” she asked.

  He knew what she was asking. He looked at his brother then the three kids huddled in the corner playing with the baby.

  “Uh, ma'am, Bryan was shot,” he said softly. He wasn't sure how close they were and what kind of reaction there would be.

  Tara gasped, her hand covered her mouth. He looked at Willow who seemed to take the news in stride. She gave a quick nod, telling him he didn't need to say the words. He didn't have to tell them Bryan was dead; his body lying in the forest.

  “Frankie, Amy, help me pack up. We’re going to put our supplies in the center of a few blankets. Then, we're going to tie them up and hang them from a pole,” Willow said, springing into action.

  “Like the hobos did?” Frankie asked.

  Willow smiled. “Exactly that. It’s a great way to carry our supplies and we'll have a nice stick to use if we need to.”

  The kids unfolded the blankets under Tara's guidance and worked to put the bear meat that wasn't quite dry, along with their other meager supplies in the center. The blankets were tied into a knot several times. Aiden and Jayden had gone out with the flashlight to collect some of the sticks Wyatt had been fashioning into spears. The sticks would serve a dual purpose as a weapon and a means to carry their supplies.