by Lee West
“That’s too bad. This situation stinks,” said Spencer. “Once we get our towns back, we’ll plan to render aid to the hospital. At the very least, we can organize volunteers to bury the dead. It might be all we can do.”
“Getting our towns back is a lot. People can’t continue to live in fear. Once we’re all safe, things will start to feel different for all of us,” offered Newman, lightening the mood.
The group sat quietly sipping their coffee by the fire. News from the hospital wasn’t exactly what Sam expected. In some ways it was better. At least the New Order hadn’t gotten to it. On the other hand, making life-and-death decisions about who would live and who would die solely because of dwindling resources must have been excruciatingly difficult for the hospital personnel. Once again, Sam reflected on his good fortune in having his family intact and healthy. It was only by sheer luck that one of them didn’t just happen to be in the hospital during the blackout.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Charlie shifted the heavy black bag on his shoulders for the third time since they’d reclaimed the weapon cache from its hiding spot on the outskirts of town. They’d breezed through the town easily, before any of the New Order men went back to their lookout posts. The remaining hike to the hunting cabin should be fairly uneventful, except for the physical strain of carrying bags loaded with heavy weaponry.
“Hey, man. Can we ease up a little? We’ve been booking it since we left Marta’s house,” said Mark, breathing heavily.
“Sure. Sorry. Why don’t you set the pace for a while.”
Charlie knew his anxiousness to see Gayle fueled the fast pace to the camp. The anticipation of seeing Gayle mounted with every mile they covered. Charlie had no confirmed information regarding her status or current whereabouts. They assumed she was fine and hiding at the camp; however, Marta did not know for sure. For all anyone knew, Gayle had been taken by the New Order when she left him that morning on the horse trail. Doubling back into town would have left her vulnerable to getting caught. Anything could have happened to her.
Worst-case scenarios about Gayle swirled in Charlie’s mind, causing him to lose concentration on their route.
“Should we be turning more toward the east or stay due south? I’m not entirely sure where the cabin is. Are you?” asked Mark.
Realizing his mind had been focused on Gayle and not on the walk, Charlie stopped and took out the compass and map.
“You’re right, we should be seeing another path off to our left, heading east. That will connect with the road and take us directly to the cabin.”
“Any chance we could have passed it? I saw something like that back a ways. It was just a smallish path off the left side of the trail. Maybe we need to double back to be sure?” said Mark.
“We could. It’s hard to tell on this map, without the assistance of GPS and road signs. According to this, if we keep going a little further, we’ll meet up with the same road. From there we’d need to go just a little further than we would’ve from the small path. The small path was basically a shortcut.”
“I’m good with continuing on this path if you are.”
“Works for me.”
The two continued in silence. Although Mark never said a word, Charlie knew the man must’ve been slightly annoyed with him. Charlie needed to get his head out of the clouds and remain focused on getting them to the cabin. Thoughts of Gayle would have to wait until later.
~ ~ ~
Gayle volunteered to take the morning front perimeter watch. Marta did not disclose who was coming, only that there were two people on the way—and they were friendly. Gayle hoped beyond belief that it was Charlie. She hadn’t anticipated how hard it would be to be away from him, with no communications and no way of knowing if he was doing okay. If the circumstances weren’t so dangerous and tumultuous, she would have had an easier time being apart. The constant worry over Charlie’s well-being had started to wear her down, impacting her tactical sharpness. She needed to focus on something else, but pacing back and forth, quietly listening to her surroundings, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
She worried about how things would be between the two of them now that everything had changed and the full scope of her deception was exposed. Lying to Charlie was something she would have preferred to avoid, but there was no way he would have been fine with her serving as the police liaison at the cabin. Instead he would have volunteered to head the team of veterans, just to keep her out of harm’s way. She couldn’t allow that. If he had spearheaded the veterans’ resistance, then the remaining police officers in Porter would have been on their own. He knew the land around the trailhead better than anyone else and had successfully moved dozens of officers to safety by that point. Knowing she did the wrong thing for the right reason gave Gayle a measure of hope that Charlie would see it the same way and forgive her.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Tank knew the drive to Lake Juniper would be boring as shit, and once again he was right. They decided to take two cars. Tank and Bower drove in one car while four of his “soldiers,” as he liked to call them, drove in the second car. He knew they needed to conserve fuel, but the thought of driving an hour with those idiots jammed in the car was more than Tank felt he should have to put up with. He needed the occasional break from the men.
His “soldiers” consisted of some of the guys he’d hung with prior to the lights going dark, plus a lot of dudes from the local prison. When the lights first went out and didn’t come back on, Tank sensed an opportunity. Apparently others did as well. The so-called “New Order” rolled into town, intent on taking over. Tank had two choices, work with them or fight against them. He chose to work with them, and in exchange, the Boss put him in charge of Evansville.
The New Order men periodically reported back to the Boss regarding the situation in Evansville. They would also divert food and booze for their shit-bird jail buddies back in Porter. Every time they drove off, taking Tank’s bounty to Porter, he considered putting an end to the New Order’s involvement in Evansville, but he didn’t have the numbers to fight the Boss at the moment.
In a way, Tank hoped they didn’t find supplies in the area around Lake Juniper. He knew the New Order men would begin to leave once the supplies ran dry. He wanted them to leave, freeing him from the Boss’s clutches. On the other hand, if the New Order guys drove out one day, Tank worried that the ten or so men loyal to him would not be able to continue to control the town. Eventually, the police would see an opportunity to move back into Evansville, putting an end to his glorious reign. No way he could let that happen. For now, he would feed the shit bags and put up with their Boss until a better plan presented itself.
The Lake Juniper sign stood silently welcoming the men to the quaint summer vacation resort area. The town looked very quiet. Tank had expected to see more people in the area, but the place seemed almost as quiet as it would be in the late fall. Stopping at the first variety store on the smallish main strip of town, Tank realized his first impressions were incorrect. There might not be many people in town, but the few around had done some damage. Most of the glass storefronts were shattered; the contents of the stores, mostly gone. The New Order men pulled up next to Tank’s car and got out. Looking up and down the small street, Tank considered the options.
“Alright, here’s what we do. Bower and I will go through the stores and restaurants on Main Street. The rest of you split up the cottages. Go house by house. If there’s so much as one Dorito left in a bag, grab it. We meet back here in two hours.”
The men quickly dispersed, running down the street to the tiny rows of neatly spaced summer cottages. Tank knew if there was anything to be found, it would be in town, not the cottages. People only stayed up here for a week or so at a time for summer vacation. The cottages weren’t likely to have large stores of canned food, pasta and booze, like a regular home or restaurant.
“Nice job getting rid of the goons. I didn’t think they would go for it. Especially Spike. He
always likes staying super close so he can report our every move to their Boss,” said Bower.
“I didn’t think we would get rid of him. He’s probably hoping someone’s teenage daughter is hiding in one of the houses. Let’s get going before they come back. Anything of value we find, we save for ourselves.”
“You got that right. Those guys would slit our throats for the last Twinkie crumb.”
The two quickly worked their way through the small grocery store. Not much remained in the dark, dusty businesses. Tank assumed that the people who’d fled Evansville likely came here first, emptying the town’s supplies.
The first restaurant contained next to nothing. They only found a few jars of pasta sauce, some pickles and a can of beets. The two could barely see anything in the dark buildings, even with flashlights.
“Let’s get outta here. Maybe the other place will have more in it,” said Tank.
The final restaurant was an old-fashioned country diner, complete with Formica tables and cowboy pictures. The front bank of windows gave them more light for their search. Tank went around the back of the counter, looking for anything of value, while Bower went into the back room.
“Hey, Tank, check it out!” yelled Bower.
The kitchen area of the restaurant was mostly bare. The store closet had been picked clean and the refrigerator contained foul-smelling rotting food. Other than that, there was nothing.
“What is it? You find anything?” said Tank into the darkness. As his eyes adjusted, he had a hard time finding Bower.
“Yeah—over here.”
In the corner of the kitchen, behind a long black curtain, sat another storeroom. The dark curtain must have shielded the storeroom from the view of most people coming into the kitchen. Plus, its location, away from the main storeroom and refrigerator, would have made it nearly invisible to anyone doing a quick search in the near pitch darkness.
“Holy shit! Nice!” said Tank.
The small narrow pantry contained floor-to-ceiling cans, jars and various bottles of food.
“Here’s what we do. Take a few things to show the guys and then we hide the rest in the trunk. Got it?”
“I’m with you. Do you think we’ve much time before they get back?” asked Bower.
“It’s hard to say, let’s just do this as quick as possible. Last thing I want is to share this bounty with those dumb assholes. They’ll eat through it in two days, the idiots.”
With none of the New Order men in sight, Tank and Bower quickly filled the trunk of Tank’s car. Satisfied that they’d managed to pull it off, Tank and Bower waited for the men to return.
“I’m gonna see if any of these cars have gas we can take back,” said Bower.
Tank stood in the entryway of the variety store, considering their next move. Considering where to find Lea and her parents. The New Order men started filtering back, one at a time. Their bags looked mostly empty, or maybe they were stashing food too.
“You guys find anything?”
“Not really, the place is dead,” said one of the men.
“Same for all these shithole restaurants and stores. Picked clean,” said Tank. “Give Bower a hand getting gas. At least we’ll be able to get some fuel.”
Tank stood on the porch of the restaurant, watching the men syphoning gas from the few cars on the town’s main street. A slight breeze carried discarded papers, wrappers and other garbage through the once quaint town. A bright green sheet of paper tumbled past Tank, catching his eye. He picked it up, examining it. It advertised an “Open Day” at Camp Hemlock. Camp Hemlock was a kids’ camp located at Lake Sparrow. So there is more to Lake Sparrow than a bunch of trees.
A sly smile formed on Tank’s face as renewed hope of finding Lea and her parents filled him. They might not be hiding under a tree, like Bower said, but they could be at a camp. Checking out the camp would be his next move.
Chapter Thirty-Six
The late afternoon sun hung low on the horizon, stretching the forest’s shadows. Night was quickly approaching. Charlie knew they needed to find the cabin soon or face the prospect of spending the night on the cold ground. The map and compass helped, but the area was so rural that many of the roads leading off the main well-driven gravel road were unmarked. Most of the residents in the area were locals whose families had lived in the same place for generations. None of them needed the road signs like Charlie and Mark did.
Once again, Charlie could tell Mark was irritated by the situation, but was nice enough to keep it to himself. In truth, Charlie’s limits were being tested too. The veterans didn’t exactly help them find the cabin. The directions they provided had been sketchy and vague—probably on purpose. The safety of the cabin required their discretion on the radio when they’d told Marta the location. Charlie understood that, but would have liked a little more information.
“Do you think we should keep going in this direction? I feel like we overshot the cabin,” said Mark as he placed his bag on the ground.
“I’m not sure. I would have thought we’re right on top of it, but there’s no indication that a cabin exists here. Better directions would have been nice.”
Charlie put the large black weapons bag that he’d hauled from Porter onto the ground with a heavy thud. His sore shoulders ached from the strain. Looking at the map, Charlie was once again perplexed. They should be able to see something of the cabin, yet there was nothing, just forest on both sides of the road.
“I think—” Charlie started to say.
“Shhh…listen. You hear that?”
Mark stood straight and called out a loud birdlike call into the shadows. From somewhere inside the recesses of the gloomy forest, an exact birdcall echoed Mark.
“We’re here,” he said.
All at once, three well-armed men emerged from their concealed locations among the trees.
“Charlie?” asked one of them.
“Guilty,” said Charlie, raising his hand.
“I’m Mark.”
“I’m Sleeper; that’s Simmons and Volk. Welcome to Storm.”
“Here? We thought we were lost. There’s no sign or road, just dense trees lining both sides of the road. How far is it to the cabin?” asked Charlie.
“Sorry about that. We purposely gave you guys the wrong directions just in case anyone else was listening. Last thing we need is to have the New Order show up on our doorstep. We’ve been at this location all afternoon, waiting for you two ladies to finish your day stroll,” said Sleeper, eliciting a round of laughter from Volk and Simmons.
“Nice. I heard your call and knew we were in the right location,” said Mark.
“Army?” asked Sleeper.
“No. Marines.”
“The cabin is only a half a mile east of this location, but you would’ve never found us,” said Simmons.
“I recognize that voice. Are you the radioman that called Marta last night?” asked Charlie.
“The one and only. I’m a former Navy radioman third class.”
The five men picked their way through the dense brush toward the cabin. Finally, Charlie caught glimpses of a clearing and a small rustic cabin. A few people sat around a campfire. Others chatted in small groups.
Seeing a woman standing off in the distance by herself, Charlie’s heart skipped a beat. Although her back was to Charlie, he recognized the curvy hips, long legs and the beautiful color of her curly golden hair. Gayle.
“Look what the cat dragged in!” shouted Sleeper.
Charlie’s eyes remained fixed on Gayle. He dropped the bag and ran for his one and only. Pulling her into a tight embrace, he breathed in the familiar scent of her skin. Finally, he pulled back from her, cupping her tear-moistened face in his hands.
“Charlie, I’m so sorry…” she tried to say.
“Don’t be. I’m proud of you. You’re the kick-ass, tough-as-nails woman I came to love, and still love. It was stupid of me to think you’d be content to sit at HQ, waiting for me. I’m the one who’s sorry.”
Tears streamed down her striking face faster than Charlie could wipe them away with his strong rough hands. He kissed her deeply and let all the worry and strain from their separation wash away.
“Hey, man. Get a room. This is a family establishment!” yelled Reynolds, from the porch of the cabin.
“Bill! Holy shit! I didn’t know you’d be down here,” said Charlie, breaking away from Gayle.
“This is my hunting cabin. If you had ever taken me up on one of my invites, you’d know that,” said Reynolds.
“Now I wish I had. This place is amazing!”
“Thanks. It’s been great for hunting, and ironically, hiding from being hunted. Who knew the place would be so handy?”
Reynolds’s reference to being hunted brought Charlie’s mind back to their current situation. For just one sweet moment, he’d forgotten.
Unzipping his bag, Charlie said, “We brought you some gifts.”
Mark joined the men, opening his bags next to Charlie’s.
“That should help,” said Reynolds, a wide smile on his face.
“We thought so.”
“Let’s get everything inside,” said Reynolds, motioning to the cabin.
The interior of the rustic cabin was everything Charlie imagined. An old plaid couch sat in front of a stone fireplace. A couple of very used chairs were arranged near one of the windows. The shelves of a bookcase held various puzzles, board games and sets of cards.
Charlie pulled out a seat at the simple pine kitchen table. One by one, he removed the weapons they’d brought and placed them on the table side by side. In front of them lay several semiautomatic, military-style rifles, a few bolt-action hunting rifles, a dozen or so pistols and three tactical-style shotguns.
“Divvy up the items as you see fit,” said Charlie. “We also dragged along some ammunition and magazines. You’ll have to be a bit discreet dividing up the ammunition. We prioritized bringing weapons over ammo.”