The Liar

by Bobby Adair

  “When we get there,” said Summer, “we’ll go in together for a recon, and then, Aaron, you and Dan stick together, I’ll take Tommy with me. Just like we talked about.”

  Tommy was taken aback. “You already have a plan?”

  “We talked this morning before I recruited you to come along,” answered Summer.

  “I caught a spotty signal before we left Barry’s ranch this morning.” Aaron clicked at his tablet, found what he was looking for and passed the device up to the front seat.

  Tommy looked at the screen—a 3D mountainside view detailing terrain, roads, and several structures surrounded by forest. “This is Bunny’s stable?”

  “Yes,” answered Summer. “If we split into two fire teams and approach the site from two directions our attack will have a better chance of succeeding.”

  “Crossfire,” explained Aaron. “Like we did this morning up on the mountain. It doesn’t give them anywhere to hide once the shooting starts.”

  “What if there are too many of them?” For Dan, it wasn’t a question, so much as a protest.

  “That’s why we’re doing a recon first.” Summer steered the Jeep between the trees. The shadows engulfed the road, and the air turned cold.

  In the silence, Tommy examined his weapon. He popped out the magazine and checked that it was full. He clicked it back in place and double-checked the two extra magazines he’d been provided. He flicked the safety on and off. He looked down the sites and targeted distant trees. His weapon was ready to do what it did. Was he ready to pull the trigger?

  Even if everything he’d been told about a war across the country was a lie. If what he was about to participate in was vigilante murder between two crackpot rebel groups, Tommy decided, it didn’t matter. He’d gladly accept eventual incarceration if it meant Emma could have a chance at a future.

  “Know what I think?” announced Aaron.

  “What?” asked Summer.

  “This is an invasion.”

  Dan laughed. “This again?”

  Maybe they were all crackpots. Tommy turned to look at Aaron. “An invasion?”

  Unfazed, Aaron said, “Let me ask you a question. Suppose we get down to this ranch house are there are like fifty guys there?”

  Dan knew that answer right away. “We leave.”

  “Play along,” said Aaron. “Can the four of us take on fifty of them?”

  Tommy couldn’t help but look down at the AR-15 in his hands. He had ninety rounds. Summer and the two guys in the back seat all carried more. But fifty guys? Was there any way they could attack swiftly enough with sufficient surprise to take on ten times their number?

  “We’ll say the answer is no,” continued Aaron.

  “Duh,” said Dan.

  “What if we could magically convince half the guys down there that the other half were the enemy and vice versa?”

  “How?” asked Dan.

  “Yeah?” Tommy started to suspect there was more to the plan than he knew about. “How?”

  “Not important,” said Aaron. “For the sake of argument, let’s just say we could. Fifty armed guys, all mad at each other, hating each other, just waiting for the shooting to start so they can get some justice or satisfaction or whatever.”

  “Fine,” said Tommy. “Let’s say we could.”

  “Then what would happen?” asked Aaron.

  “What do you mean?” asked Dan.

  “We let ‘em fight it out,” continued Aaron. “Then what?”

  Tommy realized Aaron’s game was purely hypothetical. “As long as we’re playing, maybe most of them kill each other. Then we just stroll in and pick off the survivors.”

  “Exactly,” said Aaron.

  “Exactly what?” sniped Dan.

  “What if some country is doing that to us,” asked Aaron, “to America?”

  Tommy didn’t want to play anymore, but he asked anyway, “Who?”

  “Who doesn’t matter,” Aaron told him. “Could be anybody. The way things are going right now, if we believe half of what we’re picking up off the internet—”

  “And you think this is actually an invasion?” Tommy didn’t believe it. “Not a civil war.”

  “A civil war,” stated Aaron, “as a tactic to eventually win an invasion. That’s my theory.”

  “Americans always come together.” That logic made sense to Tommy. “If you’re right, Aaron, then maybe a war with an invader might save us. Might be the only thing.”

  “Unless the invader picks a side,” countered Aaron. “Us or them? Then the division between us just gets deeper. Half of us become traitors. The other half of us lose unless we find a different country to align with. Then we become traitors, too.”

  How could Tommy argue against hypotheticals?

  “The big question facing the world right now,” said Aaron, “is what to do when the giant falls? You come in too soon, and Americans will unite against the common enemy. Come in too late, and another country might beat you to all the good stuff.”

  “The nukes.” Dan had obviously heard Aaron’s theory already. “Any country could capture those and become an instant superpower.”

  “It’s not that easy,” Tommy explained. “You can’t just steal nukes. There’s infrastructure and—”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Summer told them. “America won’t be a superpower anymore. It won’t be anything and most of us will be too dead to care. Let’s go see how many 704s are actually guarding that horse barn.”

  ***

  Having hidden the Jeep among the trees a mile or so back, the four hiked up a rise to see the valley spread out below.

  Summer pointed. “There.”

  Most of the ranch buildings stood at the confluence of two rivers that joined near the center of a wide, flat prairie formed by the meeting of the two valleys. With the ground down there so flat, the two rivers snaked in curves that looked to have been traced along the edge of ribbon tossed in the air and landed on the ground. Beaver ponds shimmered in the sun. Grass stood tall and green. Only a handful of buffalo grazed it.

  The main house, once grand, was not handling the solitude of abandonment well. Even from on the mountain, Tommy could see gaps in the shingles and some missing boards. Saplings were growing along the walls and the grass was tall between the outbuildings. Only the dirt driveway was worn free of weeds from use. Seven cars and trucks were parked in disorder near the house.

  “They’re definitely using this place,” observed Aaron.

  “Somebody is,” agreed Tommy.

  Summer pointed down to their left. “The horse barn is that way. You can just see the roof past those trees. No more talking.” She headed down a trail. Tommy and the others followed.

  Summer took care where she placed her feet, avoiding twigs that might crunch underfoot. She constantly scanned left and right, hands on her weapon, ready to fire at the first sign of trouble.

  Tommy, following in line behind her, did the same.

  They crossed old paths the forest had started to reclaim. They saw diminutive signs at trail intersections, guides for riders who ventured into the forest.

  The slope grew gentler. The air started to take on the familiar smell of ash, and Tommy suspected the weather had shifted once again to blow the smoke from the Poncha Springs fires back north again. And as bad as the smoke was, the unseasonable warmth would soon come with it.

  Aaron coughed, and muffled his follow-ons in the crook of his elbow.

  Summer glanced sternly at him but spoke not a word.

  They were drawing close.

  Another smell swirled with the scent of smoke, an old BBQ pit, plastics, and stink. Tommy glanced over his shoulder. Dan was sniffing. He smelled it, too.

  They crossed over a fire road, and passed through a stand of aspens.

  Without warning, Summer stopped and knelt behind a tree. She waved the rest to do the same.

  Tommy took up a spot five paces back.

  Summer was worried. Tense.

 
; Despite the cool air in the shade of the tall pines, Tommy’s palms grew sweaty on his gun. He felt an electric energy sizzling across his synapses, and a hyper awareness of every bird in the branches and chipmunk in the rocks. It had been a long time since he’d felt the tingle, the focus, and the high. Soon he’d have to pull the trigger. And kill.

  Or be killed.

  Summer sneaked slowly forward through spears of light angling across the forest.

  Tommy kept the gap between he and her as he followed.

  The ground rose in front of them again.

  Summer grew more cautious.

  Behind Tommy, the sound of Aaron and Dan’s footfalls slowed.

  Near the crest of the rise they were hiking toward, Summer froze.

  Tommy’s adrenaline spiked. He glanced quickly to the sides, searching for danger.

  Dan and Aaron picked up on it.

  Dan took cover. Aaron went down to a knee and brought his rifle to his shoulder.

  Tommy scanned the tree trunks silhouetted by the blue sky in front of him.

  Summer dropped to her belly and crawled toward the crest.

  Tommy ran a few steps, dove for the forest floor, and crawled after her.

  Summer didn’t have her rifle up, though. She had it laying in her hands, not pointed at anything at all. She just stared.

  When Tommy came up beside her, he saw why. Down the slope where the ground flattened out again, the trees had been cleared away to make space for an empty corral, an unused dirt parking lot, a few shed-sized outbuildings, and the shell of a massive structure burnt to black charcoal and bent metal.

  Not a living thing moved down there.

  Not on the worn dirt.

  Not in the aftermath of the inferno.

  Where Emma and Faith were supposed to be.

  Supposed to be.

  Tommy didn’t know for a fact they were there, yet he felt a certainty in his gut it was true. Because he’d expected it. Karma had been lurking out there his whole life, waiting for a moment to catch him off-guard.

  A murderous rage rose up inside him, and every rule he’d spent so much of his adult life trying to follow, every good thing he’d ever tried to do for the sake of his family, every day spent trying to be a normal, hard-working citizen, fell into the waste bin of useless-yesterday’s sucker-play bullshit.

  The emotional overload circuit in his head clicked offline, and Tommy felt a peculiar, ever-so-familiar way he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

  ***

  Aaron and Dan came up beside them, both aghast at what they saw.

  “I need to go down there,” said Tommy in a low voice.

  Summer shook her head. “What we’re looking for isn’t here.”

  Dan and Aaron silently agreed.

  Tommy bristled at the abstraction. What they were looking for were his wife and daughter. “I need to see with my own eyes.”

  “We don’t know when that barn burned. It could have been last week. Maybe last—” Summer couldn’t finish the obvious lie. Parts of the barn were still smoldering.

  “Wait here, or come with. You decide.” Tommy jumped to his feet.

  “Wait.” Summer grabbed Tommy to bring him to a stop. She turned to Dan and Aaron. “You two move down the crest another forty or fifty yards. Cover us.”

  “What’s the point?” asked Dan.

  Looking at Tommy, Summer said, “We go together, careful and slow.” She was on her feet and moving before Tommy could object.

  Tommy followed and maintained several long paces between them. He scanned for threats, with a special focus on the burned barn, looking for anything alive.

  The trees thinned.

  The ground grew flatter.

  Minutes ticked as they drew in close.

  Summer crouched behind the giant trunk of an ancient pine when nothing but dirt and grass lay between them and the blackened structure.

  Tommy came to a stop beside her and gave the area one last look. Tall pines surrounded the clearing, leaving the downhill side open to the prairie, and visible from the main ranch house in the distance. He didn’t wait for permission from Summer. He sprinted.

  “No!” Her admonition evaporated in the ashen air.

  Tommy glanced at the main house down on the prairie as he ran, but with the distance, he couldn’t make out any movement. He had no way to tell whether he’d been seen. His feet kicked through the black and gray ash on the ground, and he threw himself against a scorched wall built of big river stones.

  Squatting, he panted. The air stank heavily of terrors and tears, confirming every fear he had about what lay inside. Still, he had to see.

  Looking up, he saw Summer still hidden in the trees. She was glaring at him, and cut hard stares toward the ranch house below.

  Tommy raised his hands, palms up, to silently ask the question, ‘Is anyone coming?’

  Summer shook her head, and stood up beside the tree. She steeled herself for what she was about to do and she took off at a run.

  Tommy peeked past the wall. There were a thousand ways to die when guns and bullets were in play, and a person with a cool head could avoid most of them, but making some simple, smart choices—keeping your eyes on the threats—was one of those things.

  Tommy decided he needed a good magnifying scope for his new rifle. He turned behind and scanned the length of the tree line, looking for Dan and Aaron, yet saw nothing. They were either doing a good job at their assignment, or they’d fled back to Summer’s Jeep.

  In a puff of ash, Summer hit the wall beside him. “That wasn’t smart.”

  “They can’t see us, now.” Tommy slinked down the length of the wall, stopping at a pair of wide, charred doors. The hinges that held them up were orange with new rust, as was the hasp locked in place with a crowbar through the hole.

  Whatever had been inside hadn’t made it out.

  Summer silently urged Tommy to go back to the woods, but Tommy wasn’t interested in leaving without an answer. He dragged the crowbar out of the hasp, suffering the grating noise because no one was near enough to hear but them. “I’m going inside. Wait out here if you want.”

  With one hand on his rifle, Tommy grabbed a handle and tugged.

  The smell grew much worse.

  Once he’d pulled the door open wide enough, he stepped inside.

  Summer was beside him, gagging on the taste in the air.

  Tommy looked for safe places to plant his feet in the blackened jumble as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Rays of afternoon light cut sharp beams through the shadows, illuminating spots and making it hard to make out the shapes.

  Summer clicked a flashlight on as Tommy’s foot came down on something spongy. He recoiled, lost balance, and fell.

  The ground was soft and jagged, mushy-wet under his hands.

  Summer’s light fell on him, “Are you al—”

  Freezing in place, his senses firing at max-alert, Tommy looked at Summer for queues, but saw only the glare of her light. He threw a hand in front of his eyes as he hissed, “What?”

  Summer’s light panned across the lumpy floor.

  “What?” Tommy pushed himself up as he turned to see what he’d landed on. His eyes locked on two rows of human teeth surrounding a blackened hole in a soccer ball-sized lump of charcoal. He was at once horrified and confused. It was a corpse. At the same time, it didn’t make sense, because it couldn’t have been a human.

  Only it was.

  And another lay twisted beside it. And another, and another, and another.

  “My God.” Summer’s voice cracked. “They’re everywhere.”

  ***

  “How many?” asked Aaron, from where he stood in the trees, eyes on the barn.

  “I don’t know.” Summer was still shaken.

  Tommy was staring across the clearing, and past the barn, his eyes fixed on the ranch house down in the valley.

  “Like five or six?” asked Aaron. “Or ten or twenty? What?”

  “Fifty?�
�� guessed Summer. “More.” She felt ashamed. She was on the verge of breaking. “I couldn’t stay inside.”

  “All burnt?” asked Dan, taking it as hard as Summer.

  Their voices hit Tommy’s back, yet he didn’t respond. The gears were grinding in his head. He was weighing variables and calculating answers. Some he had. Some he didn’t.

  “All of them?” asked Dan.

  “They were locked in,” explained Summer. “They were piled thick at the door where they’d tried to push out. The place was full. Maybe a hundred. Nobody survived.”

  “The 704 assholes did this,” concluded Aaron, turning angry for the first time since Tommy had met him.

  Tommy nodded, because what Aaron was feeling was what Tommy had felt when he first saw the bodies. He’d seen the monstrous side of humanity before. He’d lived it. He’d escaped it. But he knew what the worst could look like. “They need to die.”

  Everyone stopped talking.

  Tommy felt their eyes on his back. “These animals make lists of the people they want to silence. Everybody in that barn is on a list down in that house. I’m going down there to get it, and I’m going to execute every piece of shit I find.”

  Chapter 9

  Tommy didn't wait for consensus, didn't include the others in making a plan. He didn't ask anyone to come along. He knew what he had to do. Absolutely. His wife was dead, and every moment of Emma's bright future had been ripped from her young hands. In her last moments, she'd suffered terribly as orange flames crackled across the wood over her head and sizzled through the flesh of the people shrieking around her.

  Could there be a worse way to die?

  Tommy shook his head at the silent dialogue inside.

  What kind of depraved human could burn another to death? Only the kind of soulless monsters that needed to be put down.

  Tommy started walking. His duty was waiting for him in a posh old ranch house standing a mile away across a green field.

  “What are you doing?” asked Summer.

  For anyone who had to ask, no words would ever be enough to explain. So, Tommy made no attempt.

  Aaron asked, “Where you goin’ man?”