The EMP Lodge Series: Books One to Three

by Grace Hamilton

  “I'm gonna have a chat with her,” Albert said, grabbing a piece of paper from the notebook.

  Wyatt looked at him, “Probably not a good idea, man.”

  Albert waved him off, “Right now, she is mad at you three for bringing her back.” He pointed to Wyatt, Chase and Jack. “I was right here, innocent as can be. Let's just say we will play a little good cop, bad cop. I'm the good cop,” he winked before leaving the room.

  Wyatt wasn't so sure his plan would work or what he hoped to accomplish, but he would go with it. Megan would probably throw a lamp at Albert.

  Megan sighed in frustration when she heard someone come through the door. She wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone. She simply wanted to wallow in her own misery.

  “Hey, hon,” Albert's voice cut through the silence.

  Megan turned her head to make sure it was actually Albert. He was the last person she expected to come in.

  “Hi.”

  “Pretty crappy deal, isn't it?”

  He limped to the chair and sat down.

  “I know what it feels like to want to get out of that bed and help out. It sucks when your body fails you.”

  Megan nodded. Albert couldn't possibly understand what she was going through, but he would know the pain of not being able to move about freely.

  Albert looked wistful.

  “I do understand what it feels like to be helpless when a loved one is in danger or hurting.”

  Megan turned to look at him. He sat in the chair for several minutes without saying a word.

  “You know how I got this bad knee?”

  She had always assumed it was from his time in the Vietnam War.

  He took a deep breath, “I was driving my wife home from church one beautiful Sunday afternoon. We were talking about the potluck and what she had planned to bring. She wanted to make her usual cornbread casserole. I hated that stuff.” He smiled. “I would kill for some of it right now, though.”

  Megan didn't speak. Albert had never opened up to her; let alone talked to her for more than a few minutes about anything more important than household chores.

  “I had just told her she needed to get some new recipes when an eighteen-wheeler blew through a stop sign; hitting us on her side. Back then, we didn't wear seatbelts. She was ejected from the car. When everything stopped moving, I realized I was trapped. My legs were smashed.”

  He paused, trying to regain his composure. Megan had a feeling she knew how the story ended. She didn't want to hear it. It was too much for her emotions.

  “Well, that man in the truck jumped out of his rig and took off. I could see my wife, lying on that old two-lane highway. I was trapped. I couldn't help her. It felt like an eternity before another car came along. The whole time I was in that mangled car, I grew madder and madder. I was furious at the truck driver and myself for allowing the guy to hit us.”

  “You couldn't have known, Al,” Megan quickly assured him.

  He shrugged, “No, I couldn't have, could I?”

  Megan understood what he was saying. He was trying to tell her that accidents happen. He knew her pain of being trapped and unable to help.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “She had been killed instantly. There was nothing I could have done, even if I had been able to get out of that car. It happened and I had to figure out how to keep living.”

  “She's not dead!” Megan said with more force than she had meant to.

  Albert shook his head, “No, she isn't. You know that. Maybe not the best story, but I hope you see what I am trying to say. Some things are out of our control.”

  Megan stayed quiet.

  “You also know that little girl is one smart, tough, cookie. You can't jump out of this bed and go drag her back home, but—” he pointed out the door. “Those guys can and you better believe they will.”

  He was right. She knew he was right. Wyatt would never willingly give up. He loved each and every one of them, especially Caitlin. She instantly felt like dirt for making him feel so bad. Wyatt has known so much loss and carried such a heavy burden; he was convinced he was responsible for all of them. She knew Wyatt would put his own life on the line to save any one of them.

  “You're right.”

  She needed to talk to Wyatt.

  “They are out there going over maps of the area and planning the search. I need some information from you to help them.”

  Megan tried to sit up a little straighter. Anything she could do to help, she would.

  “What do you need?”

  “First, I need you to tell me what she is wearing?”

  Megan realized he used the present tense. He wasn't accepting anything other than she was out there huddled in some fort either. That was reassuring.

  She quickly described what Caitlin had on, including the blue fanny pack.

  “Can you tell me the last moment you saw her?”

  Megan winced. The last moment had been nothing more than a blur. She told Albert all she saw was a flash of pink pass by her as she tumbled down the steep slope.

  He nodded. “You tell me what you think she would have done. Imagine she reaches the bottom or manages to catch her balance and stop the slide. Where would she have gone?”

  “I had assumed she had come back here to get help. I am pretty sure I was out for only a minute, but maybe it was longer.”

  Albert scribbled on the paper, “That makes sense and quite frankly, I think that is exactly what she would have done. I'm guessing she got turned around and couldn't find her way back. That gives us a better idea of where to start looking.”

  It gave them a place to start. She only wished she could go with them. She vowed to find a way to help, even if she couldn't get out there and physically search. She would do everything she could around the lodge to free up more time for them to look.

  She looked at her leg. Albert must have known what she was thinking.

  “You can use the crutches. I'm good for now,” he told her, slowly getting out of the chair and leaving the room.

  With her mind made up and something to focus on, she felt a little better. Except the part where she had hurt poor Wyatt. She needed to apologize.

  Albert stood to the side to allow Willow to come in. She was carrying a tray with a bowl of soup and a chunk of bread on it. Duke slipped in behind her to stand at the edge of the bed, silently asking to jump on. Willow told him no and to go lay down somewhere else.

  “Rosie says you need to eat so that tea doesn't give you an upset stomach.”

  Smelling the soup, Megan realized she was hungry.

  “Thank you. It smells great, Willow. I'm sorry about earlier.”

  Her friend smiled, “It's okay. I can't even imagine what you must be going through. We are here for you. If you need anything, just say the word.”

  Megan finished her soup and tried to get comfortable. Her ankle was throbbing, her head ached and her heart was broken. She started to feel groggy and knew Rosie had dosed her with some kind of sleeping herb. At first, Megan was a little irritated, but she was exhausted and she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep. Her worry for Caitlin combined with the pain would make sleep impossible.

  The low murmur of voices in the kitchen area was soothing. She could hear Wyatt's voice from time to time, which gave her a little comfort. He was near. She knew he wouldn't leave her and he wouldn't give up on finding her little girl.

  She sank back into the pillows and let the herbs work their magic. It felt good to let it all go.

  8

  Wyatt crept into the bedroom to find Megan sound asleep. His mom had cautioned him against jostling her leg when he got into bed.

  He watched her sleep for several minutes, trying to think of a way to crawl into bed and hold her tight without waking her or disturbing her leg. He couldn't. He wouldn't risk waking her up. She was in so much physical and emotional pain, it would be cruel.

  Instead, he made a bed on the floor next to her in case she woke up in the middle of the night and
needed to use the bathroom. He was so glad they had the composting toilet in the cabin functional again. They only used it in emergencies, which limited how often the bucket needed to be emptied, making life a little easier for them all.

  The hardwood floors throughout the cabin were easy to keep clean, but they were not fun to sleep on.

  He did what he could to make the bed as comfortable as possible but he knew he wasn’t going to get much rest.

  Wyatt heard her moan and quickly sat up.

  “What's wrong? You okay?” he whispered in the dark.

  He didn't turn on the small, battery-powered touch light they kept in the room in case she was still asleep and just restless.

  “My leg fell off the pillow.”

  The pain in her voice had him bolting up, turning on the light.

  “Hold on, don't move. Let me do it.”

  He gently put her leg back on the pillow, being careful not to put too much pressure on the ankle area.

  Tears streamed down her face.

  “I'm so sorry,” he said leaning down to gently wipe the tears from her face.

  He couldn't imagine the pain. She had been adamant she didn't want any pain meds, but his mom had ground some up and put them in her soup. They had a very limited supply but this injury was worthy of a couple Percocets they had been hoarding after finding them on one of their scavenging trips.

  He couldn't stay away from her. He carefully sat and then slowly laid down next to her pulling her in close. She didn't say a word, but he could feel the tears soaking his bare chest.

  “Baby, I'm going to get you a pain pill. You don't have to suffer.”

  “No, I'll be okay.”

  He sighed, “Yes, you will, but a pain pill will help you be okay sooner.”

  He got out of bed and went to the kitchen where Rosie had left the bottle of pills. She had suspected Megan was going to have a rough night and would need them to take the edge off.

  Wyatt took the pill and a small cup of water back in the room. Megan tried to refuse, repeating that she would be okay, but he insisted. In the end, she took the pill. He grabbed the pillow off the floor and made a small wall around her leg to keep it from sliding off again.

  Lying down next to her, he held her close as she drifted off to sleep again. He knew she would heal and within a couple of days, the pain would subside. At least the physical pain.

  The only thing he could do to help her was to get Caitlin home safely. He’d made her a promise.

  Wyatt woke with a start quickly looking down to make sure he didn’t wake Megan but she was still asleep and softly snoring. Thank God. Carefully extracting his arm from around her, he gave her a quick kiss on the forehead as she mumbled something in her sleep.

  Pulling his t-shirt on, he headed into the kitchen to find Chase and Jack had already put their packs by the back door and were quietly sipping coffee. Albert, who’d insisted on being included in the search, came out of his room wearing a brightly colored shirt that looked like it came from the seventies.

  Chase raised an eyebrow in question.

  “Hey, if I get lost, I want to make sure you guys can find me. I am too old to be lying around out in the woods.”

  That got a chuckle out of all of them, which helped lighten the mood, but Albert did have a point. They all needed to be hyper-vigilant.

  No one said it but they had to wonder if someone had found Caitlin. Would they keep her safe? Was she injured? There were so many possibilities. They couldn't ignore the fact that Evan and his group were somewhere out there.

  Caitlin's role in Kyle’s death was obvious and Evan swore to get revenge. Kidnapping the little girl was certainly an effective way to bring his family to their knees. Although Evan was a possibility, they were operating under the assumption she had gotten lost in the forest. The night before, they’d poured over the map of the area creating a grid pattern that they would follow.

  Albert was given the quadrant closest to the lodge. His knee was on the mend but after walking around on rough terrain for a day, he would be laid up in bed tomorrow.

  Chase, Jack and Wyatt were all going to fan out over the mountain. With a plan in place, they all felt a little better. Rosie insisted they stay positive. No one wanted to accept the possibility that she could be seriously injured or captured.

  Everyone was outfitted with a whistle and a flare gun. If they found her, they were to start with the whistle but if they didn’t get a response, then shooting a flare into the air would be the next option. They didn't want to risk anyone staying out longer than they had to.

  Ryland came bounding down the stairs, dressed and ready to go. He would be teaming with Albert. Jack had made him put on a bright orange hunting vest that had belonged to Dale Morris, the family patriarch who had died trying to protect his family. It was much too big, but it would do the trick. None of them wanted to take the chance of anyone else getting lost in the woods. It was the middle of September and a winter storm could strike at any time.

  They quickly went over their plans for their specific search grid. Each of them would be carrying a well-stocked backpack that would see them through up to three nights out in the woods if the worst happened, as well as additional supplies to support Caitlin should they find her.

  Jack insisted they keep the packs under twenty-five pounds. Ryland's was about fifteen pounds. Wyatt had explained that in a typical bug out survival situation, they would carry around forty pounds of gear. The formula was no more than twenty percent of their body weight. Since all the men were at least two hundred pounds, twenty-five pounds was very light.

  They wanted to be fast on their feet and every pound in the pack would tax their energy. They had to conserve their strength in order to cover the miles in their respective search grid. If their packs were too heavy, it could throw them off balance, which would only make the situation far worse.

  They had spent an hour the night before carefully packing the most essential gear. Water was an absolute necessity. Caitlin would need water when they found her. Jack, Wyatt, and Chase were going to be the farthest from the cabin and from safe drinking water. They intended to carry a gallon each just in case one of them found Caitlin, but after a lot of debate, realized it was simply too heavy.

  A single gallon of water weighed eight pounds. Even distributing it in several water bottles was too much weight. They opted to carry half a gallon each along with purification tablets they could use since there was plenty of water to be found on the mountain; especially after the rainstorm last night. Old tree stumps were plentiful in the forest, which often served as natural water basins. There would also be plenty of little creeks around the area to draw water from.

  They ate quickly and drank plenty of water. They needed to be hydrated and fueled. The oats provided plenty of B vitamins that would give them the energy they needed and like Rosie always said, it stuck to the ribs.

  Wyatt went upstairs to find his mom. She was busy looking at her medical books again.

  “You headed out?” she asked looking up from her book.

  “Yep. I gave Megan a pill about one this morning. Please make her take another one.”

  Rosie smiled, “Oh, she will get a pill one way or another.”

  Megan was as stubborn as he was when it came to the people she loved. But he knew his mom would do everything she could to keep Megan in bed and comfortable.

  “Thanks, mom.”

  She stood and gave him a quick, tight hug.

  “Be careful, please. You will find her.”

  “Damn straight I will.”

  9

  Caitlin cracked her eyes open before quickly shutting them again. Her arms weren’t moving so well but she managed to lift her left hand so she could rub at her face before opening her eyes again to a dark room. Rolling to her side, she sat up slowly only to end up leaning against the wall gasping for breath as pain shot through her.

  “Mom!” she cried out, hoping her mom would make it better.

&nbs
p; She cried out when she tried to shift her feet. Pulling the blanket back, she saw that her right foot was wrapped in a bandage. She reached to touch it, but her right arm still wouldn't move.

  Her head felt fuzzy but she managed to look down at her arm and saw it was handcuffed to a small metal ring attached to the floor. Tugging uselessly at the cuff, she panicked; calling out for her mom as the tears fell.

  Where was she? Where was Wyatt? Or Ryland?

  In an instant, everything came flooding back. She and her mom had been hunting. When the storm came, they both fell and her mom was hurt bad. Caitlin remembered the blood on her mom's face, which started a new round of crying.

  She remembered trying to walk back toward the lodge when something snapped around her ankle. It had felt like a hundred knives were cutting into her skin and she couldn't move. Falling to the ground, she tried to pry open the steel jaws that had snapped around her foot. Caitlin knew what it was. She had helped her mom set traps in the summer.

  The trap that had her was much bigger than anything her mom used. Caitlin knew there was a trick to opening it, but the pain had made it hard for her to remember. The memory triggered another memory. Her stomach had been cut and bleeding.

  Caitlin lifted her shirt and gasped when she saw the neat little row of stitches that stretched from her chest to her belly. She remembered landing on a tree stump during her fall down the hill. The cut had hurt, but her mom's bloody face had scared her too much to think much about it.

  She knew she had to find Wyatt. Rosie would fix the cut on her stomach. While she was walking, she had stepped in the trap. She had been on the ground, trying to free her foot when she heard a voice.

  Someone had bent down and opened the trap. Who? It wasn't her mom or anyone else from her family. That person must have taken her here.

  They would be looking for her. Caitlin wasn't sure how long she had been in this dark place, but she knew Wyatt and her mom would be coming to get her very soon.

  Caitlin froze when she heard a noise at the door. Someone was coming! She quickly lay back down on the bed, using her free hand to pull the covers up around her. Caitlin didn't move a muscle when she heard the door open.