Divided We Stand (What's Left of My World Book 4)

by C. A. Rudolph

  Lauren folded her arms and nodded. “Okay, fine. I’ll do that. And where is you-know-who?”

  “You-know-who is en route,” Woo Tang said, looking down at his watch. “ETA…approximately ten to fifteen mikes. You can wait here for him if you prefer. It should not be much longer.”

  “He knows I’m here?” Lauren asked, taking a quick glance at Woo Tang’s watch, an item she had done away with long ago.

  “Affirmative.”

  “You told him?”

  “Affirmative.”

  Lauren hesitated, slipping her hands into her pockets. “What did he say?”

  Woo Tang strolled off and outside the stockade, gesturing for Lauren and the others to follow him. While glancing at one of his men, he pointed and said, “Burn it. Make certain the materials can never be used for this purpose again.”

  “Jae? Are you going to answer me?” Lauren reiterated, her tone elevated, sounding slightly perturbed. “What did he say?”

  Woo Tang grabbed some blankets and several bottles of water from the soldiers handing them out and brought them to Christian and Norman. He took the remaining blanket to Lauren and, after handing her a bottle of water, wrapped it around her shoulders, looking to her only a second before turning away. “He did not say anything.”

  Chapter 5

  Allegany County, Maryland

  Saturday, December 4th. Present day

  Christian moved in closer by Lauren’s side. He didn’t say anything at first and, after a moment, nudged her softly with his elbow.

  Lauren stood in place with her jaw set and her expression stone-faced, looking as though she had just seen a ghost. She seemed ostensibly immersed in thought, fully absorbed in her current state of mind, but that didn’t hinder Christian from mouthing off.

  “Thanks for the brief introduction back there,” he said. “After that rather flamboyant rescue, I was really looking forward to meeting that guy.”

  Still no reply came from Lauren in return. With lips slightly parted, she grimaced while her mind ran through the likelihood of what it would be like seeing Dave Graham and other familiar faces again for the first time after so much had ensued.

  Warming up inside the wool blanket Woo Tang had provided her moments before, her heart raced, and her skin was tingly, like she had just awoken from a dream. Things almost didn’t seem real to her, she felt excited, yet unsettled.

  “Your friend seems like a real treat,” said Christian, feeling the need to persist. He took several deep gulps from the bottle of water he’d been given. “Speaks pretty good English through that accent of his. Decent personality, too. And that sword…I got a good look at it. That is one fine piece of weaponry. Not exactly what I’d call a commonplace weapon, but hey, I have a thing for kukris—and we’re all entitled to our tools of the trade. Hell, going by appearances alone, looks to me like we’re right smack-dab in the middle of a war now. Rapid gunfire, explosions, death around every corner. A real-life hell on earth.”

  Lauren sulked as she watched Woo Tang move farther away, bounded by his squad of heavily armed, ACU-clad men she’d never seen or met until today. She tightened the fold in her arms and shifted her weight to one side. “You talk too much sometimes.”

  Christian pursed his lips, then rubbed his chin. “I do? Sorry, I—”

  “Yes, you do. And you choose to do so on the worst possible occasions.” Lauren huffed bitterly and walked off, but Christian reached for her elbow, pulling her to a stop before she got too far.

  Lauren turned to him, forcing his hand away. “Do you remember what happened the last time you tried your luck with me?”

  Christian backed off in surrender. “Hey, what the hell? I was just messing around. Relax.”

  “I’m not in the mood.”

  “Damn. You were fine just a minute ago. In fact, dare I say, it’s probably the happiest I’ve ever seen you before.”

  “Christian, you might want to take note of this and heed it well. A woman’s moods are like the weather, only worse. They can change at any given moment without warning,” Lauren asserted. “And it can happen either by chance or by decision. You should keep that close to heart—especially if you want this thing to work out between you and my sister.”

  Christian inadvertently took a few steps backward. “Okay. I’ll do that. But for your information, this thing between me and your sister means a hell of a lot to me. It’s not just a thing.” He paused for a moment. “Look, I’m sorry…I guess I felt the need to rejoice a little. A few hours ago, I thought we were all headed to a meeting with the grim reaper, until your friend with the sword showed up, that is.”

  “Rejoice all you like,” Lauren hissed. “We haven’t achieved one damn thing we left the valley for yet. Fred is hurt, I’ve been officially diagnosed with a concussion, and there’s still a lot more to be concerned about. Or have you forgotten?”

  “I haven’t forgotten anything,” Christian replied. “I know we still have a crisis back home, and I’m worried, same as you are. But I’m also excited. It’s good to still be alive and see the sun coming up over the horizon. It could have very easily gone the other way.”

  “I realize that.”

  Christian paused a moment to casually adjust his posture. He stretched and crossed his arms. “So, what’s shorty’s deal, anyway?”

  Lauren cocked her head, cutting her eyes at him, determining he was referring to Woo Tang. “His deal?”

  “Yeah. What makes him tick? Where did he get all that—I don’t know…machismo from? I mean, he looks buff. Definitely looks like he’s spent some time in the gym, but the man is barely five and a half feet tall. That bigheaded persona he’s exuding has to stem from something.”

  Lauren seethed. “Damn you. You can be such an asshole. Bigheaded? Jesus, Christian, you don’t know anything about him. Woo Tang is the furthest thing from bigheaded.”

  “Woo Tang?” Christian repeated, attempting to sort out the familiarity of the nickname. “I take it that’s not his real name.”

  “Don’t sidebar. In the few minutes you’ve been around him, I haven’t the vaguest clue how you’ve managed to get the wrong impression. That man is the epitome of honor, integrity, discipline, and courage.”

  “That sounds like rhetoric from one of Fred’s speeches coming from your mouth.” Christian took a few hesitant steps closer to her, but remained far enough away to gauge Lauren’s increasingly agitated mood without endangering himself. “So what is he? Or I guess I should say was he? Government contractor? Bounty hunter? Military?”

  Lauren hesitated and turned away, her lips pressing together. She bit the inside of her cheek. “He was an operator.”

  “What kind?”

  “The latter…of the ternary of dogmatic choices you gave.”

  “Really?” Christian droned, jerking his head back. “What branch?”

  “The Navy.”

  “Heh. No shit. Short stuff is a squid, huh?”

  “No, short stuff is a combatant swimmer,” Lauren blurted out while still looking away, her expression floored. “At least he used to be.”

  Christian perked up, his brow elevating. “And now we’re getting somewhere.” He pointed his finger beyond into the hustle and bustle of black-clothed, armed men moving with regulation amidst the surrounding grounds. “So that would make all these other guys one and the same.”

  “Like I told you before, I don’t know all of them,” replied Lauren. “But the ones I trained with, all of Dave’s original unit, were either veterans or actively serving before hell broke loose.”

  “Dave?” Christian asked, turning to her with a smirk. “Hey, Lauren, let’s pretend for a second I don’t know who that is.”

  Lauren simpered uncomfortably, her calm only just beginning to return. “Sorry. Dave Graham. The unit commander. He’s a former Green Beret. I met him when my dad took me to learn basic tactical shooting on my sixteenth birthday.”

  “The unit commander,” Christian repeated, taking another
drink. “All right. I’m going to go out on a limb here. Seeing as how you’re on a first-name basis with the leader of the group of badasses who just turned our most recently acquired enemies into dust.” He paused. “Is this Dave also…a friend?”

  Lauren smiled and soon nodded with confidence. “Yes. He most definitely is a friend. And if anyone can help us get what we need and find a way back home, it’s going to be him.” She tilted her head and spoke in a placated tone. “So please don’t screw it up, okay? Don’t do something stupid or run off at the mouth like you ordinarily do and torque him off. Doing so wouldn’t be wise. Trust me.”

  Christian nodded, looking puzzled. “You sound like you speak from experience.”

  “And to help you put together the full connection, Dave happens to be Kim Mason’s brother, making him—”

  “Fred’s brother-in-law,” Christian cut in, his brows elevating. “I see.” He paused, turning away, his face displaying mild astonishment. “Small world.”

  Lauren rolled her lips between her teeth. “In some cases, too small. I have no idea how he’s going to react to seeing Fred in the condition he’s in.”

  “Or how he’s going to react to seeing you in the condition you’re in.”

  “Yeah,” Lauren agreed. “I don’t know what I’m going to tell him, or what I’m supposed to say about that…or anything else he asks about.”

  Christian huffed. “Come on, Lauren. I know you just got your bell rung, but that should be a gimme for you.”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s obvious you have a history with this man,” said Christian. “If he knows you, he probably cares about you.” He paused. “Just tell him the truth.”

  Several minutes later, amidst the parade of bodies moving in and around the camp, Lauren saw several men in black ACUs on the approach, none of whom she recognized, failing one. The squad marched toward her and Christian vigorously, their rifles held at low-ready, their grime-covered faces beneath battle helmets displaying looks that could only be described as intimidating.

  “You might want to make yourself scarce for a little while,” Lauren told Christian while eyeballing the face of the man in the middle, who could be none other than Dave Graham. “I’m not exactly sure how this is going to go down.”

  “I thought this guy was your friend.”

  “He is. But we haven’t seen each other since…since before. He doesn’t know everything that’s happened to us, or to me…or anything else. And he doesn’t know you.” Lauren turned to him. “I promise I’ll acquaint you when the time is right. But I need to reintroduce myself first.”

  Christian hesitated, then finally nodded while giving off an air of reluctance. “So with your old friends back in play, I guess I’m not needed anymore, is that it?”

  Lauren sighed. “Christian, come on—”

  “Hey, it’s okay. I’m fine. I’ll just take a casual stroll around the remnants of the prison camp that nearly killed us. You know, just like any other day.” He pointed to the line of railcars in the distance. “Guess maybe I’ll go over there, check out the cute little choo-choo train or something. Maybe I’ll find a box of Cheerios to munch on.”

  Chapter 6

  Wolf Gap

  Hardy County, West Virginia

  Wednesday, December 1st

  Chad Mason finished strapping down a backpack loaded with several days’ worth of gear to the backside of a custom motorcycle he’d recently acquired. Several feet away, his brother, Mark, was busy doing the same with a similar-looking bike, another that had been salvaged following the battle with the Marauders.

  In the light of daybreak, the two sent infrequent looks each other’s way and quietly critiqued one another’s actions. Mark’s look was one of determination, while Chad’s expression displayed the gravity of the decisions they were making, and of the journey they were about to embark on.

  Several yards behind them, an engine came to life, its muffler burping and sputtering abruptly in a loud, audacious chorus while the smell of exhaust fumes wafted through and permeated the air. Sasha jerked forward on her bike and squeezed the clutch while ramping the throttle, increasing the engine’s volume level dramatically. She then casually leaned the bike on its kickstand, tilted the handlebars, and glided her body from the seat in a noticeably suggestive manner.

  She pranced over to join the brothers and gave Chad’s ride a curious glance before looking in Mark’s direction. “Goddamn,” she breathed, sliding her fingers into her front pockets. “I could really use a cigarette. I’m guessing neither of you boys smoke, do you? You two look a little too demure for that.”

  “Nope, sorry,” Chad answered her. “Even if we did, cigarettes wouldn’t be easy to come by these days. You’d be shit out of luck.”

  “Yeah, there is that.” Sasha leered, looking somewhat annoyed. “Swell. Maybe I can roll up some dry pine needles. Got any notebook paper?”

  Chad shook his head, smirking. “Fresh out.”

  Mark reached into an interior pocket of his jacket and pulled out a pack of unopened cigarettes, offering them to Sasha, much to her surprise. “I snagged these from a pile of garbage we gathered after the fight. There was all sorts of stuff in there, cigarettes included. Figured they might be worth something someday.”

  The tension released in Sasha’s expression as her eyes grew wide. “Thanks, kid. You just saved my life…again,” she said, taking the pack from him. She pulled a cigarette from it and placed the filter between her lips, taking a moment to study the pack. “It’s not my brand, but I really couldn’t care less right now.” She ignited it with a Zippo Mark provided, and took a few puffs, then pulled it away to swallow over an impending hack. “Still got that map I gave you?”

  Mark nodded while reaching into his pocket.

  “I take it you still plan on going with us?” Chad quizzed, his steely gaze transfixed on the woman with streaked hair.

  Sasha nodded. She blew a plume into the air while unfolding the map. “You see me standing here, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I do—you’re kinda hard to miss,” Chad heckled. “But do you really think it’s such a good idea after all you’ve been through?”

  “I feel fine, stud. Thanks for asking.”

  Chad nodded, showing off a sardonic grin. “Fine. But if you get hurt out there, you’re on your own.” He adjusted the H&K MP5 hanging by a sling over his shoulder, the same close-quarters weapon his brother had slung across his chest. He gestured to Sasha’s idling motorcycle. “Are you sure you can ride?”

  Sasha gave Chad the stink eye and took an immensely long drag from her cigarette, exhaling smoke from her nose. “Look, stud. This flawless keister of mine has been riding on two wheels since it was old enough to go commando. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you’d stop troubling yourself over my welfare and start concerning yourself with what we’re getting ready to do.” She glanced at Mark and then ogled Chad sheepishly. “Speaking of which, and I might’ve had a brain fart, because I can’t remember if I asked already, but I’m going to need a gun.” She pointed at Mark’s MP5. “One of those will do.”

  Chad let out a chuckle. “Yeah, I knew that was coming.”

  “You knew what was coming?” Sasha probed.

  “I’m not giving you a gun,” Chad declared, pointing at his brother. “And don’t you even think about it, Mark. I’m serious, bro.”

  “Seriously? Why not?” Mark inquired. “If something bad happens, three people with guns are a lot better than two with guns and one without.”

  Chad stood at attention. “She’s gained your trust already? You barely even met her, had about three full conversations with her, and you’re already sure she won’t shoot you in the back if given the chance? How do you know this whole thing isn’t a trap? What if there aren’t any girls locked up in some basement? Have you given any thought to how many ways this can go wrong?”

  Sasha took one last drag and dropped her cigarette to the ground, stomping it out with her
boot. She pointed a finger at Chad, looking perturbed. “Easy there, stud. You’re being a little douche right now, and you don’t have to be. Tell you what, for the sake of argument, forget I asked. If something bad does happen and you feel I need one, fine, gimme one then. But until then, I won’t give a shit.” She paused. “I’d rather gain your trust and be looked upon for doing the right thing than be judged for the color of my hair, the clothes I’m wearing, or the assholes I used to spend most of my time with. I get it, you know…my past isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, but I’ve had about all I can take of that judgmental crap.”

  “Sorry, Chad, but I agree with her,” said Mark. “I think she deserves a little leeway after what she helped prevent happen. We could’ve been slaughtered if she hadn’t taken a stand. She risked her life for us.”

  “You want to give her leeway, fine. Give her leeway,” Chad said. “But we’re not giving her a gun.” He turned his back to them and walked off towards the hide they had built in the woods near the barricade. “I’m going to have a final chat with the Brady boys before we go. Mark, if you give her a gun…when I get back, I’m shooting her myself.”

  Sasha and Mark stood there and watched him leave.

  “Well, isn’t he a treat,” Sasha purred. “It takes a lot of practice to be that much of an ass-bandit.”

  “That’s just Chad,” Mark explained. “It’s in his genes…he’s a lot like our dad, just not as crusty. Lucky for me, I ended up a lot more like Mom, but I think Meg got half and half.”

  “Meg?”

  “Megan. Our sister.”

  Sasha nodded and lit up another cigarette. “What made your dad into such a curmudgeon? Did he have a hard life or something? Abusive parents? Drug addiction?”

  “No,” Mark said, shaking his head. “He’s a Ranger.”

  Sasha lifted a brow. “Park ranger? Forest ranger?”

  Mark chuckled. “Army Ranger. The ones who carry bigger guns.”