The Longest Road (Book 1)

by Thompson, A. S.

  Collin spent most of his time around the colonel, at least when Jenny wasn’t hassling him to play games. The two men got to know one another very well, exchanging military and life stories. Mark began looking at Collin like a second son, and Mark became a father figure in Collin’s eyes.

  Tension remained strong between the cousins and Robert, Corey, and Brian. On occasion, the two groups would bump shoulders or exchange insults, but the animosity never escalated for fear of breaking Mark’s rules. Robert noticed the growing relationship between his father and Collin. It irritated him, but he pushed those feelings aside. He knew any physical altercation would be frivolous and involve short-term consequences. He wanted them gone for good. Always out of view, Robert and company watched the cousins with malicious eyes. They studied their habits and moves, searching for a way to get rid of them.

  “Patience,” J.P. said in response to Sarah’s nervous fidgeting.

  Sarah noticed the unconscious tapping of her foot against the exterior fortress wall and stopped immediately. “I know, J.P. It’s just that Steve said he was coming with us…”

  “Don’t worry, my dear. If he said he would come, he will come,” J.P. said matter-of-factly. “Everything happens for a reason.”

  J.P. Chin, a gangly-looking Asian man, was the Eye’s resident expert on plants. Sarah had come to know him well. She had learned of the tragic loss of his wife and newborn child on a chartered boat from China to California, and how J.P. had found solace and peace after a failed suicide attempt. Years later, the Chinese-American man had moved to a small town a few miles north of San Louis Obispo, where he had opened up a shop that sold herbal remedies and supplements. Sarah and J.P. spent a lot of time working in the garden together. She listened closely as he taught her ancient Chinese horticulture techniques. He talked for hours about spirituality and the energy force in nature, about the partnership of life and death. She always liked those talks.

  “Have faith, my dear,” J.P. said, pointing to Steve, who came running through the entrance gate.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Steve said sincerely. “I got caught up—”

  Sarah gave him a hug, ending any further excuse. “I thought you wouldn’t make it…”

  “Are you kidding? I’ve wanted to get out for days. These last couple have been pretty hectic—” Steve said before getting cut off again.

  “I don’t mean to be rude,” J.P. interrupted. “But we should get going. We don’t have very much light left.” His calm Chinese-American accent sounded like that of a Buddhist monk.

  The summer sun shone brightly into the late afternoon. Save for a few cirrus clouds and circling turkey vultures, the blue sky was clear. A gentle breeze rustled the tall grass as the three walked past the vineyards and down into the valley.

  “Let’s start over there,” J.P. said, pointing to a section across from a dried-up stream. “I have a good feeling.”

  1700 hours

  Robert had finished his chores and was on his way back to his room to clean up when he heard a scream come from the garden. He ran over and saw Jenny nervously backing away from the chicken fencing.

  “Jenny, what’s wrong?” Robert asked, seeing nothing to warrant the scream he had heard.

  “A snake, Robert! It’s right over there!” Jenny said, hiding behind him.

  Robert walked over calmly and bent down to examine the serpent. “It’s just a gopher snake or something. Don’t worry, they’re harmless,” he said, grabbing the snake by its tail and dangling it in the air.

  “Thanks, Robert,” Jenny said, smiling. She nervously came around from behind Robert to see for herself. Even though the two-foot-long reptile wasn’t venomous, she still kept an arm’s length away.

  “What are big brothers for?” he said. “Hey, do you know where Sarah is?”

  “She said she was going to pick some berries.”

  “Pick berries, huh? Do you know who she went with?” Robert had a guess as to what Jenny was about to say, but hoped he was wrong.

  “She’s with Mr. Chin and Steve.”

  Robert whirled the serpent around like a lasso and flung it over the cliffs. The snake’s body splattered onto the rocks below.

  “Robert! Why did you do that?” Jenny asked.

  “I lied, it was dangerous,” he said, gritting his teeth.

  He lied about lying.

  1707 hours

  J.P.’s intuition was spot-on and proved incredibly bountiful. The three survivors gathered basket after basket of raspberries, huckleberries, and blackberries.

  After they were satisfied with their haul, they sat on the soft grass near a dried riverbed. Sarah lay on her back and stared up into the sky, cloud watching. Steve planted himself next to her, enjoying the berries one by one. With his back straight, J.P. crossed his legs and closed his eyes.

  “Life is beautiful,” J.P. said, taking in a deep breath. The Asian man took the opportunity to meditate in the serenity of the outdoors.

  “Yes, it is,” Steve replied, tossing up a blackberry and catching it in his mouth. “And delicious.”

  Suddenly, Steve sprang up, hearing rustling sounds from a nearby group of bushes. His face went from glee to complete seriousness. “Sarah, stay behind me. J.P., come over here,” he said in a stern whisper. Steve swooped up his rifle and aimed near the area, twenty feet down the dried up stream.

  Sarah followed the order, but J.P. did not take Steve’s advice. Instead, he moved toward the sounds.

  “J.P., get back here now,” Steve repeated.

  Ten feet from the bush, J.P. knelt down on one knee, and then quietly turned to face Steve and Sarah with a smile. “It’s okay, don’t be afraid.”

  Revealing itself from the other side of the bushes, a doe appeared, followed by its timid baby.

  “Oh, thank God,” Sarah sighed. “I don’t get it. Why are they not afraid of us?”

  “Why should they be afraid?” J.P. countered.

  The female deer and her infant stopped and stared him down. Apparently sensing no harm, the animals resumed their scavenging, sniffing and nibbling their way through the nearby bushes. What Steve and Sarah observed between J.P. and the deer could only be described as some kind of interspecies communication. They knew J.P. was not one of those self-proclaimed “animal whisperers” who showcased their antics on TV, but they could not deny the interaction that took place. Even though no words were spoken, J.P. had some kind of connection with the animals, or at the very least, a sense of understanding.

  “That was a little nerve-racking,” Steve joked after seeing the lack of danger. “Looks like dinner came to us today!”

  “No, Stephen,” J.P. pleaded, signaling for Steve to put down his weapon. “They chose to come to us today. We should not hurt them.”

  Steve looked at the animals from a rational survivalist’s standpoint. Deer meant meat, and meat meant dinner. “But J.P., these deer could feed us—”

  “No, Steve! I beg you, not these. And not today,” J.P. replied.

  “Listen to him, Steve” Sarah said, walking slowly over to J.P., careful not to scare their new visitors.

  Steve may have not shared their same opinion, but something brought him back to that last hunting trip at Greene National Forest. Whatever feeling that had stopped him from shooting that elk was back and stopping him again.So be it, he thought, lowering his rifle. He walked over to the other two and knelt beside them.

  “You did a good thing by not shooting,” J.P. said with a calm voice. He took a handful of berries from his basket and tossed them close to the deer. “A life is a life. Human or animal. We all have souls, and we are all connected.”

  Steve nodded and attempted to take in the existentialist experience.

  J.P. continued his stream of consciousness. “In my culture, deer represent great virtue and fortune. They stand for endurance and longevity. You see, we are not so different, them and us. We are all surviving now,” he said, motioning to the animal’s foraging. “Many believe that de
er are nature’s watchmen. I believe this family chose to visit us. To let us know that they are roaming these fields—”

  “Deer!” shouted a voice behind them, shattering the tranquility. A set of three gunshots followed.

  Sarah, J.P., and Steve covered their ears and ducked for safety.

  “Robert! What are you doing?” Sarah yelled.

  “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m trying to get us some dinner,” Robert responded matter-of-factly.

  Steve looked back to the deer, who had now taken off, hopping away. All three of Robert’s shots had missed. He walked back over to his basket of berries. “Well, I’d definitely agree with the ‘trying to’ part.”

  “Shut up, asshole! Whatever. I’m here to come get you. We’re closing the gate. So come with me, or you can stay out here for the night,” Robert said, emphasizing his last point with a piercing stare at Steve.

  Robert tried to extend a hand to help Sarah up, but she brushed right by him. “You’re the asshole,” she said plainly.

  “Shall we head back?” Steve said, courteously extending his arm for her to grab on to.

  “Yeah, I think so,” Sarah responded, wrapping her arm around Steve’s. The two began their trek up the hill to the castle. “Thanks again, J.P. We’ll see you back inside.”

  “I’ll take a little help,” J.P. said, extending his hand for Robert to help pull him out of the ravine.

  “Help yourself, old man,” Robert scowled, marching away.

  1917 hours

  Mark pulled Collin aside after a delicious dinner. “Tell me, Collin, how do you feel about cigars and scotch?”

  “To be honest, I feel like it’s been years since I had a good cigar.”

  “You’re in luck. Let’s go to my room.”

  From the end of the table, Robert witnessed the exchange, but couldn’t hear the words. He grimaced as Mark threw his arm around Collin’s shoulder. He tried to avert his attention to something else, but saw Sarah rubbing up close to Steve. The attitude he had received from Sarah earlier only angered him more. It seemed like his world was falling out from under him.

  They’re taking over like fucking cockroaches! Robert thought. He felt his blood boil, and at the risk of being embarrassed, he ordered Corey and Brian to leave with him.

  1921 hours

  “Aha, here they are,” Mark said, tossing aside a few shirts before finding a wooden box filled with Cuban cigars. “I never understood why these little things are so illegal.”

  “Well, Mark, I don’t think Customs will press charges,” Collin replied jokingly.

  Mark laughed and pulled out a bottle of fine whiskey along with two glasses. “Very true.”

  He led Collin out to a private balcony overlooking the ocean. A cool, refreshing breeze met them as he slid open the glass door. The waves crashed against the cliffs below, and the sky was filled with stars. In the distance, a full moon started its ascent.

  The two sat in a pair of comfortable chairs near the railing. After licking the end of the Cuban cigar, Mark snipped off a piece of tobacco, then struck a match and began puffing. He passed the cutter and box of matches to Collin, who followed suit. Together, the two former-military men sat, looking out over the moonlit ocean.

  “Funny, isn’t it?” Mark said, breaking the silence.

  Collin tilted his head, not knowing what the colonel was referring to.

  “The world has gone down the shitter, but here we are, smoking cigars and drinking scotch.”

  “Yeah, it’s pretty ironic,” Collin responded after puffing out a cloud of thick smoke. “That reminds me, Mark. There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

  “Ask away.”

  “Do you remember the day we arrived? You explained the outbreak, and how something didn’t fit right. You suspected a conspiracy, correct?”

  “Without a doubt,” replied Mark. He abruptly set his cigar down and went inside, only to return with two three-ring binders. “Before I left Fort Kennedy, I grabbed these. They are my detailed mission reports and supplemental information. The full reports are stored securely on a portable hard drive.”

  Collin took a large sip of scotch and grabbed one of the binders. The colonel directed his attention to some personal notes and highlighted sections.

  “You see? Facial recognition technology and ground sources identified one of the terrorists coming into upstate Maine from Canada. I made my phone call directly to the President and his close cabinet of senior member advisors. After two minutes, he called me back and instructed me to intercept.”

  “And what happened?” Collin asked, unable to hold back his anticipation.

  “I relayed the snatch and grab orders to my special ops team, who were minutes away. They arrived on scene and stormed the house, but it was empty. Whoever was there had just left, and in a hurry. The food was still hot, for crying out loud!”

  “What about satellites? You had to have seen something—”

  “Nothing. After further inspection of the building, the team found an underground tunnel connecting to a sewer. They could have popped up anywhere.”

  Before Collin could ask another question, he was interrupted by someone knocking on the chamber door. Mark took the folders and set them back on the shelf. The knocks turned into pounds, agitating the colonel.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming. Who’s there?” Mark said, opening the door. “Robert. Is everything okay?”

  Without asking permission, Robert let himself in. “Yes, everything’s fine. Can’t a son visit his father? Who’s here? I heard talking.”

  Collin slid open the door, answering Robert’s question.

  “What’s he doing here?” Robert asked angrily.

  Sensing the hostility in his voice, Collin cut in. “I was just leaving. I’ll talk with you later, Mark,” he said, shaking the colonel’s hand.

  As a polite host, the colonel showed Collin out. When Collin was halfway down the stairs, Mark stopped him. “Collin, never forget my wife.”

  Collin was puzzled. He had absolutely no idea why the colonel would say that, but he nodded and continued on his way.

  Robert waited until Mark returned and closed the door. “So, Dad, mind telling me why you invited him here?”

  “Collin? That was nothing. Just two former officers reliving the glory days.”

  “Oh, so just shooting the shit, huh?”

  Mark ignored the loaded question. “I’m exhausted. So, unless there’s something important or urgent to tell me, I’m going to sleep.”

  Before Robert could say a word, Mark ushered him out of his chambers. The door had nearly closed before Robert stuck his foot out to block it. “I don’t like them, Dad. You shouldn’t have let them stay. They don’t belong here.”

  Mark let out a weary sigh. “So childish, Robert. Do us all a favor and grow up,” he said, shoving the door shut.

  Livid, Robert kicked his father’s door and stormed off to his room.

  May 25, 2009

  0812 hours

  “Damn thing!” Mark yelled, kicking one of the solar panels. “We aren’t getting the output we should. Someone get Billy.”

  Billy rushed over to the electrical room and inspected the machine. He had never dealt with solar panels. The ones on Tom’s RV had never had an issue, so he didn’t know where to begin. He checked all the electrical components, and after two hours of sweat and frustration, he located the problem. There was a short in a section of the wiring that comprised the intake-output levels. With only a few of these massive panels in operation, one failing meant a great deal.

  “Good news is I can get it working again. Bad news is I’m pretty sure you don’t have what I need here,” said Billy, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

  “Okay, write up a list of parts for me and meet me in the conference room. I’ll see what we can do,” Mark responded, sounding frustrated. On his way out, he spread the word for a meeting.

  1105 hours

  It was a perfect summer day: mi
d-seventies, sunny, and cloudless. Steve sat on the scouts’ perch of the Outer Eye. The valley was quiet and watch duty was slow.

  Sarah had finished her gardening early and hurried to keep Steve company. She took the stairs two at a time, hugged Steve, and sat next to him.

  “Sarah, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Steve said with a worried tone once she was sitting.

  Sarah looked nervous. “What is it?”

  “I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”

  She drew back, looking more nervous than before, but bit her tongue and let him speak.

  Steve took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “I have two babies you should know about.”

  Sarah looked at Steve in awe, now flabbergasted. “Two kids?”

  Steve let it soak in, waiting for the perfect time. He couldn’t sell it any better, and finally erupted in laughter. “Yeah, one of them you’ve met. My Sig. And the other is my rifle.”

  “You asshole,” she said, laughing at her gullibility.

  “You should have seen the look on your face. I had you, hook, line, and sinker. I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. But seriously, I love this gun,” he said, raising the rifle. “Have you ever shot one? A rifle, I mean.”

  “Nope, never.”

  “Well, you’re in luck, ’cause you can’t get a better teacher around these parts.”

  For the next fifteen minutes, Steve taught her how to handle and shoot it. He showed her how to load it, hold it, aim, and cycle rounds in case of a jam. She hit two of the three targets Steve pointed out, and became visibly less and less intimidated.

  About 1,200 feet away, walking through an orchard, was a badly decomposing man. The gunshots had apparently attracted him.

  Steve decided to roll the dice. “Okay, I’ll make you a bet. If I can hit that guy out there, then you have to give me something.”