If only, she thought as Bunker turned away from Burt and started a slow walk to her position. Deep down she knew Bunker had talked her into this, even though she distinctly remembered it being her idea. A strange paradox, indeed.
Maybe her heart was the culprit, letting him maneuver her to do his bidding. She was usually on her game around men, but that was more of a necessity around her ex. Bunker was different in so many ways. Granted, his charm wasn’t always obvious. Neither was his guile, but his true colors always shined the brightest.
Victor got into the backseat through the passenger door on the far side of the truck and slammed the door shut.
Stephanie made eye contact with Dallas, who was standing next to her. “Time to go.”
“Hang on a sec,” he said, never taking his eyes from Bunker.
When Bunker arrived, Dallas said, “I’ve got something for you.”
Bunker looked intrigued as the youngster climbed into the truck on his knees, facing the backseat. His arm went over the bench.
“I found this hidden in Tuttle’s barn,” Dallas said after climbing out of the truck, giving Bunker a curved tube with a cloth-wrapped handle sticking out of one end. “I thought you should have it.”
Bunker took it and pulled on the handle, sliding a long, curved sword out of the scabbard. He twisted it in the air, moving it from one side of his body to the other, much like Stephanie had seen Samurai Masters do in the movies.
“Is that what I think it is?” she asked as the sun reflected off its polished surface.
“It’s a Samurai sword,” Dallas answered, wearing an ear-to-ear smile.
A vision flashed in Stephanie’s mind, showing her a severed head lying next to its lifeless body. “Is it real?”
“I don’t know, but it’s well made, that’s for sure,” Bunker said before stopping his side-to-side motion. “The balance is amazing.” He brought a hand to the blade, sampling its honed edge with a light touch of his finger. “And razor sharp.”
“Do you like it?” Dallas asked, his boyish tone bleeding through the syllables.
“I love it.” Bunker slid the sword back into its guard. He shook Dallas’ hand. “Appreciate it, little buddy.”
“We need to go, Dallas. Get in the truck, please,” Stephanie said, nudging the kid on the shoulder.
Dallas waved goodbye to everyone before climbing into the Land Rover.
Stephanie closed his door. “Well, I guess that’s about it,” she said, bringing her eyes to Bunker.
“Do you know the way back?”
“I think so.”
“I do,” Victor said, leaning forward from his seat to make eye contact.
“Me, too,” Dallas said.
Stephanie let out a phony smile, trying to hide the sadness swelling in her heart. “There you have it. One pilot and two navigators. This should be interesting.”
When Bunker leaned forward, she thought he was going to kiss her. The thought of his affection sent lightning bolts shooting across her body. However, his advance stopped a moment later when he put his arm behind his back. When his hand returned, a pistol was in his grasp. “Here, take this in case you run into trouble.”
She shook her head, keeping her hands away from the weapon. “You know guns are not my thing.”
“I understand, but you should have it just in case.”
“I’ll take it, if she doesn’t want it,” Victor said, holding his palm out like a panhandler on the street.
Before Bunker could respond, Albert breezed in and stood next to Stephanie, his hand extended. “I’ll take it from here, Bunker.”
“What are you doing, Albert?” Stephanie asked.
“Riding shotgun.”
“You’re going with us?”
“Apparently,” he said, shooting a look at Apollo.
“It was my idea,” Apollo said, looking at Stephanie first, then Bunker. “I think we’ll all feel better if at least one of us goes along.”
“Agreed,” Bunker said without a moment of pause.
“What about your shooters?” Stephanie asked Bunker in a charged voice. “I thought you needed every one of them.”
Apollo put a soft hand on her shoulder. “It’s best if he goes with you, Steph. We can’t send you out there without an escort.”
Albert was a lot of things, but he wasn’t anywhere close to what she’d consider an escort. A pervert, yes. Escort no. “Don’t I get a say in the matter?”
Apollo shook his head. “I’m sorry, the decision’s been made.”
She looked at Albert, catching the heavy man’s eyes drooling over her chest. She snapped her fingers in front of him before pointing at her face. “Eyes are up here, Albert.”
“Right, sorry,” he said in a stammer, his face flushing red.
Stephanie sneered at Bunker. “You can’t be serious about this.”
He didn’t respond. Neither did Apollo when she turned her scorn his way.
“Have fun trip,” Bunker said, looking amused.
Stephanie had planned to say goodbye to Jack with one last hug and perhaps a kiss, but not now. Not with that twisted grin on his mug.
She spun in the dirt and got into the driver’s seat, then closed the door with extra force to make a point.
Albert ambled around to the other side of the vehicle and hoisted his huge backside onto the open seat. The truck leaned to the right, then back again as his size settled in for the ride to Martha’s.
Stephanie didn’t have to look over at him to know he was checking her out again. She could feel the weight of his eyes pressing on her body. Sure, she was proud of her figure and dressed in such a way that men would notice. But not this man. Albert’s gaze felt like a violation of decency, even though there was nothing she could do about it. He had a right to look—no law against that.
She put her forehead on the steering wheel and sighed, knowing the ride would seem twice as long with Albert sitting across from her—with a loaded weapon, no less. Both in his hand and in his pants. It made her want to throw up.
A triple tap came at her window.
She sat up in the seat and rolled the window down with the hand crank. When she peered up, Bunker’s chiseled face filled the frame. Even though she was very upset with him, she couldn’t stop her heart from puttering.
“Stick to the back roads. You should be fine,” he said as if nothing was wrong.
She nodded, knowing this might be the last time she ever saw him. She needed to say something—anything—but couldn’t convince her lips to speak. Her mouth felt like someone had dumped a truckload of cotton inside, then covered it with cement.
He stepped back, resuming his previous position next to the Sheriff.
She held back a torrent of tears as her hand cranked the window closed. Her mind filled with a flash of memories, each one involving the man who’d protected her on the train. Jeffrey was in those scenes as well, the three of them somehow finding their way to each other with the help of fate.
They say that your life flashes before your eyes right before you die. But what about when someone you love is about to meet their end?
How does that work?
Do your friends and loved ones witness the flashes, too, seeing those same memories from their own perspective?
Is that what she was experiencing?
It was the strangest feeling, one that she hadn’t felt before. She looked at the boys in the back seat for inspiration. They were chatting with Albert, not realizing what was happening in the driver’s seat.
She brought her focus forward, gripping the steering wheel with extra force. Her mind went into self-reflection mode, trying to unravel the puzzle filling her thoughts.
Torment is a lonely punisher, consuming a person from the inside out, she decided. Despite the nearly endless attempts by millions on Facebook, intense loss is something that can’t be shared. Nor can it be part of some social experiment. Not in any meaningful way.
Loss was a solo act. She was sure o
f it. So were guilt and loneliness, affecting each person differently. Each of them splays your heart open with a jagged edge, exposing all that you are as it tunnels its way to your very core.
Even though the Land Rover was full of people, she was alone. More so than ever before.
She didn’t want to start the engine, but that’s exactly what she did. The grind of the starter motor tore at her emotions, preparing her for the journey that would soon begin, taking her down the darkest of trails. A trail that would most likely be without the new man in her life.
She put the clutch in and moved the shifter into first gear, taking one last look at Bunker.
He gave her a tentative smile, looking vulnerable for the first time since she’d met him. He must have known it, too.
When Bunker sent her a half-wave, she released the clutch and stepped on the gas. His face disappeared from view a second later, sending a single tear rolling down her cheek. The burning inside her chest was profound, igniting an emptiness she knew would never be extinguished.
Despite everything she was feeling, her foot never came off the accelerator. Nor did she turn the truck around. Her job was simple and all-important—get the boys back to camp. To do that, she knew she must forget all that had come before, erasing that which was bubbling inside.
CHAPTER 17
“Well, you did it,” Apollo said to Bunker, patting him on the back. He studied the former Marine’s reaction, wondering if Bunker had seen Stephanie’s torment about leaving.
“Wasn’t sure there for a moment,” Bunker said, walking with Apollo. Their pace was slow, heading to the others, who were waiting by the items yet to be deployed.
“That look on her face said it all.”
“Yeah, I felt it, too,” Bunker said. “God, I hate goodbyes. I totally suck at them.”
“She’ll be okay. Steph’s a lot stronger than anyone gives her credit for.”
“I hope you’re right. She deserves to be happy.”
“We all do.”
“Hey, I need you to do me favor, Sheriff.”
“Name it.”
Bunker stopped his feet and turned to face Apollo. “If for some reason today doesn’t go as planned, I need you to tell Daisy something.”
“Let’s not go there, Jack. Positive thoughts.”
“Yes, we’ve done all we can, but—”
Apollo wouldn’t let him finish his sentence. Doubt was the last thing the group needed to see on his face. “Your plan is sound, Jack. We will win this thing. I’m sure of it. We have God on our side.”
“That may be true, but there are a number of variables we can’t control, no matter how well we’ve prepared. The Russians are no different than we are when it comes to the biological imperative to survive. It’s not going to be easy, Gus, no matter what side God is on. So I need you to listen. Please.”
“Sure, what do you need me to do?”
“For one, tell Daisy that I did go to her trailer and check on her cat. Unfortunately, the fur ball didn’t make it. I buried Vonda out back by the garden. Wasn’t sure what else to do.”
The look on Bunker’s face indicated there was more he needed to say. “Is there anything else?”
Bunker nodded, looking petrified about the words yet to arrive. “There’s something I’ve been carrying for a long time. Daisy’s been waiting patiently for me to say it. In fact, I promised her I’d come clean when I got back. But since there’s a chance I won’t—”
“I understand,” Apollo said, cutting off the confession on purpose. “You don’t need to say it. We all know you love her. She’s a very special young woman.”
Bunker’s eyes lit up in shock. “That’s not what I’m referring to.”
“So you don’t love her?”
“I didn’t say that. I was talking about something else.”
“Oh, my mistake. Go ahead, shoot.”
Bunker lifted his shirt to expose the tattoos across his chest. He was covered with them. The most prominent was up near his shoulder. It was an emblem of an infamous group known as The Kindred.
Apollo had to force his lips to speak. “The white supremacist biker gang?”
“Yeah, it’s something I’m not proud of,” Bunker said, turning to expose the artwork across his back.
Apollo instantly understood the symbols and numbers.
Bunker continued after turning forward, letting his shirt drop. “I was on the run after going AWOL from the brotherhood when I met Steph and Jeffrey on the train.”
“Jesus, I had no idea,” Apollo said, his mind reeling from the revelation. The man he’d come to know and trust was a drug-dealing, law-breaking thug. He’d heard the words clearly and seen the evidence across the man’s body, but he still didn’t want to believe it. “So, let me get this straight. You weren’t in the Marines?”
“Yes, I was. But that was before I decided to join The Kindred. When I left the Corps, I was broken and desperate, trying to find meaning to my life. Everything I believed in had been shattered by something that happened right before my tour ended. I was in full-on revolt mode when I joined the brotherhood. I guess I thought riding with them would somehow fill the emptiness I couldn’t seem to shake. I know it doesn’t make any sense, but that’s what happened. I went from one end of the spectrum to the other. Of course, the misery inside continued to grow until I finally walked away after they started selling meth to kids.”
Apollo shook his head. “This is going to break Daisy’s heart.”
“Actually, she already knows. It all came out in the miner’s camp when we ran into one of my former riding partners. His name was Grinder.”
“Was?”
“I had to put a bullet in his head before he let my former boss, Conner Watts, know where I was.”
“I’ve heard of Watts.”
“I’m sure you have. He’s on the FBI’s top ten most wanted list. If I had let Grinder live, it would have put everyone in danger. They’re never going to stop looking for me. So I had no choice but to take him out. He was holding Megan hostage at the time. Stephanie was there. So was Jeffrey.”
“They know, too?”
“Not exactly. Though I suspect Stephanie has put some of the pieces together on her own. Daisy’s the one I’m worried about the most. She’s been carrying my secret around and it’s killing her inside.”
Apollo couldn’t believe that Daisy didn’t share this information with him. It wasn’t like her to lie to his face like that.
“She’s a good deputy, Gus. Don’t judge her for agreeing to keep my secret. I made her do that. For the greater good. But she’d come to the end of her rope yesterday. That’s why she made me promise to come clean when I got back from my recon mission. That was our deal. Otherwise, she was going to do the right thing and turn me in. To you.”
“So this is you coming clean?”
“My version of it. My name is not Jack Bunker. It’s Jack Terrier and I have a rap sheet. But I don’t want the others to know. Not yet. Not until we finish what we’ve started here. It’s too important.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Just a few more hours, that’s all I ask. I don’t want what I’ve done or who I am to shake their confidence in our plan. It’ll put everyone in danger.”
“I see,” Apollo muttered in a condescending tone. Part of him wanted to pardon Bunker on the spot. However, the lawman inside was on a different path altogether. His heart ran cold, wondering how he could have been fooled this long by a criminal deviant.
“Look, I get it, Sheriff. You have no reason to trust me right now, and frankly, I don’t blame you. Sometimes, I don’t trust myself. But I’m being honest when I say I’m not that guy anymore. I know I’ve made plenty of mistakes and some God-awful decisions, but I’m trying to make amends and start over.”
Apollo shook his head, but didn’t answer.
“I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me long enough to finish this. If, after that, you want to toss my sorry ass in jail,
I’ll go willingly and take the punishment I have coming. Just let me do the right thing now. I need to pay back all of those who’ve given me their trust. We’ve got exactly one shot here, Sheriff, and we have to do this together. Right here. Right now.”
Apollo understood the man’s words, though he still had a long list of questions. First up, motive. It’s the key to understanding why a criminal makes the choices they do. “What happened in the military?”
Bunker hesitated, his eyes darting left and right, probably in search mode. “I think I’ve told you that I was a Marine Corps Sapper. My job was to make sure the infantry had a clear path into combat. That usually meant identifying and clearing any IEDs or other booby traps the enemy may have deployed. If I didn’t do my job, men got hauled out on a stretcher, or worse.”
“I can imagine.”
“I also did the usual combat engineer stuff. Sweeps with metal detectors, fortifying perimeters with explosives and wire obstacles—you name it. It’s a hybrid position, one involving both offensive and defensive techniques, depending on the mission objectives. I even provided fire team support on occasion, once the assault began. So I got to do a little bit of everything. The perfect mix for me.”
“That still doesn’t answer my question.”
“I’m getting to it, Sheriff. Right before I was due to rotate out, I was offered the chance to join a special operations unit tasked with eliminating terrorist cells who were also deeply entrenched within the drug cartels of Afghanistan. A two-for-one deal. Obviously a high-value target. We’re talking the blackest of black bag operations, whose primary mission was to eliminate the bad guys and destroy their source of financing.”
“Sounds honorable.”
“That’s exactly what I thought. When I was told the orders came direct from the Commander-in-Chief, I signed up, eager to score a few more high-profile wins for our country. I figured it would be a good test of my skills and something new and different. When you’re a combat engineer, it’s important to keep the juices flowing, which was something I needed at the time. It’s easy to become complacent, which gets people killed, including yourself. I also figured it would help me decide if I was going to ship-over again or not. Otherwise, my tour was getting rather tedious and it was time to find something else to do with my life.”
Bunker (A Post-Apocalyptic Techno Thriller Book 5) Page 12