That afternoon, Raven spent his time preparing for the road ahead. He and Dale loaded the Swag Wagon with cold weather gear just in case they got stranded. The most important piece of gear was the night vision goggles that would allow Raven to drive in the dark without headlights. On the way out of town, they stopped at the hospital where Raven pitched the mission to Sandra the same way Colton had pitched it to him—recon only.
“It’s dangerous to leave Estes Park no matter what, Sam,” she said. “Every time you go out there, I worry it’ll be the last time I see you.”
“I promise I’ll be careful.”
She gave him a hug, clearly too exhausted to argue. He kissed Creek goodbye and gave Allie a hug, and then drove south to the first roadblock, where Dale motioned for him to stop.
Sarah, the refugee girl, and her caretaker, Jennie, were both posted there with a dozen other people. Dale had taken a real liking to them. They were staying on his property to look after his livestock, but truth be told, Dale seemed happy to have the company regardless of the help. It was yet another reason Raven had changed his mind about the veteran. He’d proven that people could change. Hell, Raven had proved the same about himself. He hadn’t taken a sip of alcohol for weeks.
Jennie stepped over to the passenger window with Sarah by her side.
“Can I come?” the young girl asked without so much as a hello.
Dale patted her on the top of her stocking cap. “Not this time, kiddo. You got chickens to look after.”
He winked at Jennie.
I see how it is, Raven thought, realization setting in. Dale had a thing for Jennie. Raven relaxed in his seat, giving Dale time to say his goodbyes. To Raven’s surprise, Sarah walked over to his side of the van.
“Hey, you never gave me anything,” she said.
“Huh?” Raven said.
“Back at the police station, a few weeks ago, you said you had something for me.”
“Oh, yeah.” Raven sighed, and then fished a butterfly knife out of his rucksack in the back seat.
“Holy shit,” she said when he handed it to her.
“Watch your language. And be very careful with that,” Dale said. He looked over at Raven and grumbled something about how it was a dumb idea.
“Don’t use that until I get back,” Dale told Sarah. He turned to Jennie. “Please make sure she doesn’t stab herself. Or anyone else.”
Jennie laughed. “I’ll try, Dale.”
“You ready to go?” Raven said.
“I’ll be back soon,” Dale told Jennie.
“Thanks for the cool knife,” Sarah said.
Dale shook his head, but beneath his beard he was smiling. Raven drove the vehicle through the center of the open barriers. Wind whistled through the open window, but no matter what Raven did, he couldn’t get the damn thing to roll up. At least it wasn’t snowing.
The glow of the sun slowly retreated over the terrain as they drove farther away from the secure borders of Estes Park. It didn’t take long before they hit the areas where hundreds of acres of forest had been reduced to ash.
“Holy shit,” Dale said. “You guys weren’t kidding. It really looks like the apocalypse out here.”
The endless view reminded Raven of the Sioux story about the end of the world, the same story he had shared with Nathan Sardetti. A moment of despair gripped him at the thought of the pilot, and Raven made a mental promise to Nathan that he would capture Shunka Sapa, the monstrous black dog in the Sioux story whom Raven believed was General Dan Fenix.
“I’ll find Shunka Sapa, and I’ll kill him,” Raven whispered to himself.
“What?” Dale asked, glancing over.
“Nothing.”
“Who the hell is Shunka Sapa? That one of your Indian gods?”
Raven scowled. He was not in the mood to give a lesson on folklore.
“Sorry, man, not trying to be offensive. Just curious. I don’t know much about the, uh, indigenous peoples.”
“We’re called American Indians. That’s the politically correct term, at least.”
“Sorry, I meant American Indians.”
Raven shrugged. “I don’t get my panties in a bunch about it, but it does piss me off when people don’t understand why it might be offensive to call us redskins. I don’t call you an albino skin, do I?”
Dale pulled off his hat, ran his hand through his hair, and sighed. “I get it, man. I’m sorry.” He checked the magazine in his AR-15 and then looked out the window, lapsing into silence.
By the time the sun went down, they had driven fifty miles without seeing a single person. Raven figured the radiation still had people scared, which was good. The less contact they had on this trip, the better.
He waited until the final rays of light receded on the horizon and then pulled to the side of the road to put on the night vision goggles. Once his eyes had adjusted to the green hue, he pulled back onto the road and continued south.
“We’re getting close,” Dale said. The map was draped over his lap, and he used a flashlight to check it every few minutes.
About five miles north of Granby, Raven finally saw a flicker of movement across the road. He brought the van to a stop behind an abandoned pickup truck and killed the engine. He grabbed his Glock, and Dale readied his rifle.
“What do you see?” Dale asked, leaning forward to look out the windshield.
Raven focused on the shapes moving along the shoulder of the road. “Horses and men.”
“They armed?”
“Can’t tell.”
Dale moved to open the van door, but Raven grabbed his arm.
“Just keep quiet and stay inside. They’re heading our way,” Raven said. He counted six men, and now he could see they were armed with rifles and shotguns.
Raven caught a glimpse of motion in the rearview mirror, and cursed when he saw more horses a quarter mile behind them.
“Shit, we’re trapped,” he said.
Dale looked over his shoulder and heaved a breath. “I can’t see anything.”
“Get down,” Raven said. He twisted the key to turn the van back on, but the engine whined, not turning over.
“You got to be fucking kidding me,” Dale said.
“Shut up, man.”
“Bro, don’t tell me to—”
Raven turned the key again, his eyes closed, pleading with the van. “Come on, baby.”
The starter clicked again but didn’t turn over. When he opened his eyes, the horses ahead were moving faster, and several voices rang out. The men had spotted the van.
“We’ve been made,” Raven said. He considered telling Dale to bail and making a run for it, but he decided to try the key a third time. It finally caught, and the engine growled to life. With no time to waste, he punched the pedal down to the floor. The tires squealed.
“Go, go, go!” Dale shouted.
Raven steered the van around the pickup and into the center of the two-lane highway. The horses were moving into the road to block their escape. Driving on the shoulder wasn’t an option; there was no way the tires were going to make it on an off-road trip. Times like these, he really missed his Jeep.
“Dale, roll down your window and shoot over the front of the hood,” Raven said. “Aim for the center of the road, at those horses!”
“You serious, man? I—”
The boom of a shotgun cut Dale off. Pellets punched through the windshield and peppered the back seat.
“Son of a bitch!” Dale shouted. He quickly rolled down the window and then leaned outside with the rifle, squeezing off several bursts at the horses.
Raven hated seeing the beasts hurt, but if it came down to his survival, he wasn’t going to die out here. He pushed down on the pedal as far as it would go and drove right for the horses. One of them bucked its rider out of the saddle like a rag doll.
At the last second, the other mounted shooters moved the horses away, but not before one of them fired a shotgun blast that punched through the side of the van.<
br />
Dale let out a cry, but Raven focused on maneuvering through the gap between the horses. The tires screeched and the rusty chassis clanked as they shot through the narrow pass.
Another shot followed them, taking out the back window and raining glass on the seats. Dale and Raven both ducked as two more booms sounded. Pellets lanced into the back of the truck, penetrating the rusty metal, but within minutes they were out of range.
Raven loosened his grip on the steering wheel, chest heaving. “You okay, Dale?”
Dale managed a nod, but his hand was gripping his shoulder.
“You hit?” Raven said.
“Just a flesh wound.”
“You sure?”
“I’m good. Trust me, I’ve been hit way worse before.”
Raven focused on the road, steering around abandoned vehicles, while Dale put a bandage on his shoulder. Several pellets had punctured his skin, but he was right that it was just a flesh wound.
“Who the hell were those guys?” Dale muttered.
“I didn’t get a look. Probably just raiders.” Raven glimpsed a sign for Granby and jerked his chin at the map on the floor.
Dale finished with the bandage and grabbed the map. “Looks like it’s the second exit, then you pull onto a frontage road and head east for a mile.”
Raven found the exit a few minutes later and turned onto a dirt frontage road. He could see the outline of Granby in the distance. The moon had emerged, splitting through the clouds and spreading soft white light over the sleeping city.
“Robbie said the house is somewhere on the other side of those woods,” Raven said. He parked the van and jumped out into the cold night, his boots crunching on the frozen dirt. He met Dale around the other side of the van, and they loaded up on gear and ammunition.
“You sure about this?” Raven asked.
Dale looked down at his shoulder. “Brother, I’m fine.”
Raven holstered his Glock and then grabbed his AR-15. “Follow me, and keep quiet.”
Raven flipped his night vision goggles back over his eyes and led Dale into the forest. The leaf-covered ground crunched under their boots no matter how slowly they moved. It was dead quiet out here, with not even the call of a bird to break the silence. Raven stopped every few minutes to listen, trying to identify any sounds out of the ordinary. He sniffed the air to check for smoke, and picked up the scent of a fire. Someone was definitely out there.
Flashing a hand signal, Raven continued onward with Dale walking cautiously through the forest behind him. The big man was doing a pretty good job of keeping his foot impacts low considering he only had moonlight to guide him.
Although Raven wished Creek was here, he was also anxious about bringing the dog anywhere again. He had taken a bullet for his handler, and seeing the Akita suffer broke Raven’s heart. Not that he would be happy if Dale got shot again, but it was different. Creek was his best friend.
“There,” Dale whispered, pointing.
Raven saw the mansion a moment later. The building was situated on the shore of a lake, overlooking the sparkling water. At first scan, the property appeared empty. Not a single sentry in sight, but smoke was fingering away from one of the chimneys on the east side of the house. He moved toward the edge of the trees and crouched down. Dale joined him and took up position behind a pine.
“You see anyone?” he asked.
Raven shook his head. He got up and prepared to move, but froze. Flipping up the goggles, he laid eyes on what looked like the burning end of a cigarette.
“One contact,” he said quietly.
Lowering the goggles back over his eyes, he focused on the man sitting on the porch. The man got up a few minutes later, after throwing away the cigarette, and walked back inside.
“Come on,” Raven said.
He led Dale out into a clearing, and they made their way across the grass to a tall metal fence. About a quarter mile to the east, the front gate was wide open.
Mr. Redford would never leave the front door unlocked.
Raven crushed something under his boot. He reached down and plucked a spent shell casing off the ground. Then he saw the others. There were hundreds of spent rounds littered across the dirt.
A fight had gone down here.
He flipped his NVGs back over his eyes and examined the house. From this new vantage point, he could see it had been hit by thousands of rounds that had shattered windows, chipped the facade, and destroyed the overhang.
Not a fight at all.
A battle.
“What’s wrong?” Dale asked.
“We’re too late,” Raven said.
He did another quick scan of the property. In the gardens, he saw them.
Severed heads. At least a dozen, all mounted on pikes.
“Fucking hell,” Raven whispered.
“Dude, what?” Dale asked. “You’re freaking me out.”
“Stay here, and cover me if someone starts shooting,” Raven said. He took off running before Dale could reply. Keeping low, Raven moved into the gardens, using the shrubbery for cover. He made his way over to the front porch and examined the heads. They were a grisly spectacle, but he didn’t immediately recognize any of them.
He navigated his way onto the porch, seeing a glow of light coming from one of the rooms on the first floor. After he cleared the area, he moved to the back door, trying the handle.
Raven slung his rifle and slowly picked the lock with his knife. The door creaked open in front of him. He sheathed his knife, pulled both of his hatchets from his back, and moved into a dark kitchen.
Light bled into the room from under the door. He stopped to listen, hearing a rustling noise in the next room. He flipped the NVGs up and then reached for the door. It was ajar, and he slowly pushed it open to see a man warming his hands in front of a fire. A rifle was propped up against the wall.
Raven again stopped to listen, but all he heard was the crackle of burning wood. He moved for a better view, and noticed the swastika on the man’s neck. This wasn’t one of Redford’s men.
As soon as he saw this guy was a Nazi, Raven kicked the door open and then tossed both of the hatchets. One of the blades hit the man in the back with a thump, and the other struck him in the right leg. He grabbed the fireplace mantle, screaming in agony. The sounds didn’t draw any other hostiles, but Raven unslung his rifle and raised it just in case the man wasn’t alone.
The Nazi thug dropped to the ground. Raven waited for a few seconds, gaze flitting back and forth from the stairs to the man who was trying to crawl away.
Hearing nothing but groans, Raven followed the trail of blood streaking across the expensive carpet. He bent down next to the man, who turned on his side to look at Raven.
“What did you do with Redford?” Raven asked.
The man chuckled up bloody bubbles. His eyes flitted up toward the wall, and Raven pivoted to see a collection of mounted trophies. An elk, an eight-point buck, and several other kills. But there was something else there, something that was out of place.
Raven took a step over just to make sure he was seeing clearly in the faint light of the fire. He swallowed as his brain finally confirmed what his eyes were seeing.
A bloody human head hung among the hunting trophies.
This one, he recognized.
It belonged to Nile Redford.
— 11 —
Albert Randall was doing his best not to eavesdrop on the conversation between Charlize and Colonel Raymond, but he found it hard to ignore.
“Secretary Montgomery, I just got another report of an attack that has SOL written all over it,” Raymond said. “Fenix and his men are active, ma’am.”
Albert stood outside her office door with Dave and Ty, all of them waiting for Charlize to finish some last-minute work before she left Constellation for another trip.
Albert loosened his flak jacket while he waited. The vest was a better fit than the one from Charlotte. This time it covered his stomach where the bullet had ripped
through his abdomen and torn up his insides. After three weeks of recovery, he was finally back on his feet with a new mission. His injuries were still hurting, but he was glad to be out of that hospital bed.
“I really want to come with you, Mr. Big Al,” Dave said, pulling on Albert’s sleeve. “You promised the Fellowship wasn’t over.”
Albert put a finger to his lips and strained to listen to the conversation inside the office.
“How do we know it was SOL?” Charlize was asking.
“Swastikas carved at the scene and some very brazen anti-Chinese graffiti,” Raymond replied. “It’s got to be SOL, unless there are more Nazi groups in Colorado.”
Albert didn’t want the kids to hear this. He grabbed the back of Ty’s wheelchair and pushed him away. Dave followed them across the hallway, still talking about hobbits.
“I won’t be gone long,” Albert said. “Then I’ll come back, and—”
Dave shook his shaggy hair. “No!” he shouted.
Several personnel walking down the hallway glanced in their direction. Albert let out a sigh and got down on one knee, pain racing up his gut. He gritted his teeth. The doctors had told him certain movements were still going to hurt, and they were right, as usual.
“See, you can’t go without me, you’re still in pain from the last Orc. This time the Orcs might kill you, Mr. Big Al.” Dave blinked rapidly, his eyes shining with frustrated tears. “You need me.”
“I’ll be fine. You have to be strong and look after the people here while I’m gone. That’s your mission now.” Albert put a hand on Dave’s shoulder.
A single tear fled the boy’s eye and streaked down his cheek. He looked down at his tennis shoes, his small potbelly rising up and down with his labored breathing.
“Okay?” Albert asked.
“Yeah, okay,” Dave whispered.
“We’ll have fun,” Ty said.
“And I’ll bring you back a DVD of Lord of the Rings,” Albert said.
Dave looked up with the hint of a smile forming on his lips. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
Albert stood and walked over to the office door. Charlize and Raymond were still deep in discussion. He caught her eye, and tapped on his watch to indicate it was time to go. Charlize nodded back. He was already late, and if she didn’t hurry, she was going to be as well.
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