Kate didn’t need to ask what he was looking at. There was a fire burning atop the air traffic control tower, black smoke billowing up high into the sky for all of Boise to see. There was no way it hadn’t been set deliberately. With a pair of binoculars, there was no doubt that whoever was in the tower was more than likely looking straight at them. And if they were using the scope on a hunting rifle, had them in their sights.
“Everyone get down!” ordered Kate. “Keep the horses between us and them!”
Kate pulled the Remington 700 out of its holder and as the kids kept the horses as calm as they could, she lined up the shot. She was guessing it was at least a mile. She made the alterations to her scope, there was not a breath of wind. She zoomed in. There were two men in the tower, the flames above them were beginning to drop down into the tower. The tires, or whatever they had used to create the smoke, were melting and sending hot burning droplets of rubber down on to the gangway that circled the top of the tower. The men had nothing more powerful than AR-15s, they were no threat at that distance. She wasn’t even sure they had spotted them until one raised binoculars and looked straight at her.
She pulled the trigger and waited. He flinched at the flash and started to move, but the bullet beat him. His body was propelled across the tower and disappeared out of sight. Kate had already sent another shot on its way as the second man rushed for cover. Kate’s snap shot missed. She lined up another. She had to stop whoever they were signaling from telling them which road they were on. The Tower had a perfect view of both the back roads and the interstate. With the man out of sight, she had little to go on other than what she would do in his shoes. She aimed and fired. She would never know whether she was right, but they had to get moving and quickly.
***
The billowing smoke had the militia base rushing to action. Men raced from their barracks to the corral, saddling horses and preparing for action. Bob barked orders as he raced to join and grabbed the first saddled horse he came to, racing towards the smoke. Trey wasted no time and like Bob, pushed a militia man aside who had saddled his horse and chased after his cousin. The men who had been awaiting orders and were ready to ride followed suit. A steady stream following thereafter. Within ten minutes, more than fifty men were racing to the tower, just over six miles from the base. Within thirty minutes, that number had swollen to over a hundred. Bob had his army and was on the hunt.
The sound of the high-powered rifle rounds had Bob kicking his horse onwards. Those were not the sound of shots from his men. With no sound of return fire, he feared the worst. His men had died and with them, who they had seen and where they were going.
***
Alex and Nick had struggled to catch either sound or sight of the posse that Neil had heard. With sunlight imminent Alex had been about to call it a night and suggest reverting to plan A, getting out of Boise for good, when the air traffic control tower, just a few hundred yards ahead of them started billowing smoke from its roof.
The subsequent sound of the rifle being fired off in the distance, a noise that brought a smile to Nick’s face, had them picking up speed and heading towards the shooter.
“I see that smile,” laughed Alex.
“You recognize the sound of the rifle, too?”
Alex nodded. They had heard the woman fire that exact same rifle the previous week. “You think she’s on the horses?”
“I wouldn’t put it past her, somehow she just might have.”
“You know that’s a watch tower for the militia,” advised Neil, looking at the plume of smoke. “They’ll see where we’re going.”
Alex changed direction and headed for the tower.
“How long until the militia get here?” asked Nick, hopping off his horse as they arrived at the tower.
“I’d say it’s about seven miles or so. Best case from the base, I’d say twenty-five to thirty minutes on a fit horse.”
“So we need to get the hell out of here, quick as we can,” advised Alex as Nick raced into the tower. The burning roof was looking precarious.
Nick wasted less than a minute. “Two dead,” he announced on his return. “One through the wall, catching him in the neck. Quite a mess up there.”
“Did you see them?”
Nick nodded. “I’d guess just over two miles that way. Six horses,. Couldn’t make out who was riding them, but didn’t look like a posse,” he winked at Alex.
“Pleasant Valley Road,” advised Neil.
“Where does it go?” asked Nick, jumping back onto his horse and leading the way.
“Nowhere really. Although, you could use it as a back road to Mountain Home.”
“The Air Force Base?” asked Alex.
“Yeah, you guys Air Force?”
“No!” said Alex, ending the conversation and speeding his horse up.
“Guys, I’ve got no hands!” shouted Neil as they took off at a pace, he was most definitely not comfortable with hands free.
“Well, we aren’t untying your hands and we aren’t slowing down, so I suggest you just grip harder with your legs!”
***
“Mom!”
Kate turned. “What, Danny?” she called to him three horses back.
“I’m scared!”
“We’ll be fine, honey. The Air Force will protect us.”
“If we make it to them!” mumbled Sophie loud enough for all to hear. Nobody disagreed.
Chapter 57
By the time they reached the air traffic tower, the top was gutted by fire. With no sign of any militia men, he had to assume they had been shot, which left him no further forward. Just twenty-four hours earlier, he had celebrated his control over Boise and Idaho by killing the Governor. He was the law; he was in control. Nothing could have run smoother over the last two weeks, everything had run exactly or better than planned. Had he dared dream he’d be in control of Boise and Idaho in just two weeks, he’d never have believed it. Yet, every time his men had anything to do with that woman, something went wrong. Sixteen men had remained last night and not one had been heard of since, despite the gun battle that had ensued. He had a feeling deep down, he wasn’t going to see them again. Sixteen men for one damned woman. He looked at Trey by his side. He could have throttled him. His obsession with the woman was costing him men and more importantly, his reputation.
“Get up there and see what you can see,” he barked, throwing binoculars to the man nearest the tower door.
“But there’s nothing there!” replied the man, looking to the smoldering stub at the top of the tower where the office had once sat.
Bob aimed his AR-15 and shot him.
“You,” he pointed. “Get up there!”
The second man grabbed the binoculars and entered the building without hesitation. He appeared at the top, coughing and choking from the fumes he’d had to endure on the staircase to the top. He could be seen walking gingerly. “Not much floor left up here, Duke!” he shouted down.
“Just tell me what you can see.”
The man had an unobstructed view across the plain to the south of Boise. He focused on the interstate, following it down as far as the binoculars would allow him to see. Nothing moved. The few cars that had been on the road two weeks earlier when the power stopped remained abandoned. Their drivers long having given up on them ever starting again.
“Nothing on the interstate!” he called down.
He turned his attention to the myriad of country and back roads that crisscrossed the plain.
Bob was off his horse and pacing, trying to control his spiraling out of control temper. “Well??” he shouted up in frustration as the lookout went quiet.
“I’ve got something, looks like three horses moving fast down Pleasant Valley Road.”
“How far?”
“Past the prison, but not as far as the gun club,” he replied, two of the only buildings he knew in the area.
“Four five miles, shit, how’d we catch them…Where’s Neil?” shouted Bob.
&nbs
p; Neil didn’t come forward.
“Anyone seen Neil?”
“He went out just after you got back this morning,” said a voice from amongst the men. He was one of Neil’s stablemen. The man guided his horse through the growing crowd of militia towards Bob.
“Out where?”
“I don’t know. He had words with Trey after you left, saddled up, and rode out. Seemed to be in a hurry!”
Bob’s head swung to his cousin, fury spouting from his eyes. “What the hell did you do?”
Trey threw a stare of hatred at the speaker before pleading his innocence with Bob.
Bob batted away his protestations. “So, how do we make up five miles?” he called to his men.
“Duke, there’re more ahead as well! I think, half the distance again!” the lookout shouted down.
“How many?”
“Too far to tell, but I’d say more than four horses.”
Bob swung back to his men.
“Fewer men, more horses,” replied the stableman, having thought through the options.
Bob looked at him quizzically.
“Each rider has three or four horses. Horses tire less with no one on them and can run much faster. You simply stop and change horses every so often and they can maintain a much faster pace. You should catch up the five miles in a few hours.”
Bob looked across his swelling army. Almost a hundred men and their horses had assembled at the tower. He started pointing to some of his best men. “If I point to you, take another three horses from the men around you and move over there!” he shouted.
He then pointed to the stableman, “You get over there and get them ready to move out, any other stablemen here?”
Two more men moved towards the stableman and assisted.
Within fifteen minutes, Bob had his fast response posse ready to move out, twenty-one of his hardened militia, assisted by the stableman, himself and Trey, giving a grand total of twenty-four men and ninety-six horses.
Bob turned to the stableman. “Okay, lead on. You set the pace, we want to catch them as soon as we can!”
***
Kate looked over her shoulder, a cloud of dust was visible behind them. It was still a long way off, but it was there. She wanted to speed up but with Ava on her saddle with her, she really was going as fast as she dared. How she’d even conceived they’d have managed this by bike she had no idea. They had already covered, she guessed, over ten miles with another thirty at least to go. She’d planned to cover it in a day, but she had no intention of going as fast as they were. Although the forced speed had one major benefit, they’d get Ava help sooner. If they made it, that was. She focused on the road ahead. If they got any closer, she always had the Remington to keep them at bay.
It could be worse, she thought as she caught sight of Zach. Hank was wrapped around his upper torso, his two front paws and head resting on Zach’s shoulder. It seemed they had found their comfortable spot, at least Hank had. Zach looked decidedly pissed off with the situation.
“You okay, Zach?” called Kate with a smile.
“Yes,” he mumbled in response.
Kate couldn’t help but think the situation with Hank was a godsend. Zach’s mind was being kept occupied and not dwelling on the death of his parents.
She gently nudged her horse on.
“Mom?”
“Yes, honey,” she called back to Danny.
“We nearly there yet?”
Chapter 58
Operation Center
Secure Location
Pacific Ocean
Scott picked up the photo and stared at it, his wife and newborn baby daughter. He had no idea when he’d see them again. He switched off the bedside lamp and slipped the precious photo back into his wallet. He could only pray they were okay. It had been four weeks since his orders to report to the airbase, and as long since he’d had any contact with his family, or anyone he knew.
His orders had taken him to an office where he had been instructed to board the transport aircraft. Six hours later, after one of the bumpiest and most uncomfortable flights he had ever had, he had the pleasure of experiencing a night-time landing on an aircraft carrier in the middle of a storm. The single scariest thing he could ever imagine. The following morning, he had been introduced briefly to seven other operators like himself, none of whom knew or had ever served with one another previously. It was as if they had scoured the four corners of the country to find eight complete strangers.
His room was like a cell. Once off duty, he’d had no interaction with his colleagues, no opportunity to get to know them. Other than work, he had nothing. Even the main body of the ship and the crew were kept from them. It was them, one commander, and four nameless civilian contractors who appeared to be running the show. None of it had many any sense, not even when they were put to work, which was nothing more than familiarizing themselves with an area and understanding the routines of the populace. It was by far, the dullest work he had ever undertaken, and as far as he was concerned, a scandalous waste of not only the equipment but their ability as operators. For two weeks, he had watched as cars ferried precious little darlings as little as a few hundred yards to school. Garbage trucks picked up and deposited waste. Police chased criminals, schools put on football games, firemen fought fires, planes took off and landed. Basically, anything and everything you’d expect to happen in a town or city, they watched. At the end of each shift, he was taken back to his secure room and deposited, before being picked up for his next shift with only a TV to amuse himself. At no point or nowhere available to them was there any possible device with which to communicate with anyone. Other than being drone operators, the only information he had been able to ascertain about them all was that, like him, all had been vetted in recent months for additional security clearance.
He rose from his bed. He had five minutes until his door would once again be opened and his temporary reprieve from captivity lifted for him to get to work. Another sleepless night, another night struggling to cope with the devastation he had witnessed and the destruction of a beautiful city in just two weeks. He had no idea what had become of his wife, he just had to pray she was safe. All he knew was what he had witnessed in Boise, a city, until four weeks earlier, he had only ever heard good things about. He would struggle to ever have anything good to say about Boise in the future, if he even had one. Nobody spoke to them, or told them what was happening. There had been no increase in operations over the previous two weeks from the aircraft carrier. He’d have expected something, certainly after seeing what he had witnessed.
He arrived on station. He had a five-minute handover, their shifts rotating and therefore seldom seeing the same operator twice within a few days.
“Holding steady at 25,000 feet south of Boise, we have an incident underway…” the operator explained what had transpired over the previous few hours, their bird’s eye view from 25,000 feet with every technology available to man allowed them almost daylight clarity twenty-four hours a day. Scott listened as the operator relayed the two firefights that had happened and subsequent escape of a number of individuals, which was still underway.
“Enjoy!” he offered as a parting gesture.
“Thanks,” said Scott half-heartedly, taking the seat and the controls. He daren’t raise his hopes. Some of the most upsetting scenes he had witnessed over the previous two weeks were when he had been stupid enough to hope that somebody would help, somebody would step in or stand up for their fellow citizens. Each time, his hopes had been dashed.
The previous operator had circled the area of interest with a virtual highlighter. Scott made himself comfortable, shuffled himself into position and pushed forward on the small zoom control with his thumb at the top of his right joystick. The view on his screen moved seamlessly from an expanse of brown dirt viewed at no zoom from 25,000 feet to being able to look at the individual strands of hair on a person’s head from the same distance.
Scott zoomed back slightly and focused on th
e front group. The dust they were kicking up obscured most of their features, but he counted six horses. A thermal check suggested six horses, two without riders, two horses had two people. He corrected, five people and a dog. He recounted as instructed everything into his headset.
He zoomed out before zooming back in to the group behind, much simpler, three horses, three riders.
A final zoom out and in wasn’t as simple. The final group more than filled his screen. He let the system do the work for him this time. It wouldn’t accidently recount as he would be likely to do with such a large mass of bodies filling the screen. The dust made it impossible to see any detail without switching to thermal. Twenty-four riders and ninety-six horses.
Scott zoomed and selected each of the three groups, marking them for the system to automatically track. Details immediately appeared in front of him. He read them into his head set.
“Group One, speed 12.3 mile per hour. Group Two, 2.7 miles behind Group One, speed 13.7 miles per hour. Group Three moving faster than both One and Two and 6.2 miles behind Group Two and 8.9 miles behind Group One.”
A second screen instantly computed the time to meet if nothing altered. Group Two would catch Group One in one hour, fifty-nine minutes and thirty-three seconds and Group Three would catch Groups One and Two in two hours, fifty-three minutes and fifty-five seconds, assuming Groups One and Two moved at Group One’s pace once Group Two had caught them. Whatever the case, he had a six-hour shift. He was going to know the outcome.
“You’re Scott?” asked one of the civilians. They said little, but watched everything.
‘Yes.”
“We’re waiting for confirmation, but believe Group Two are two of our own.”
TRIAL: A Post Apocalyptic/Dystopian Thriller Page 23