“Yes, and there’s another one at three o’clock!”
Raven turned left and fiddled with the windshield wipers, but that made things worse. The heat was rising inside the Jeep, making it harder to breath. Sweat beaded across his face.
“Ten o’clock!” he yelled.
Raven maneuvered past the corpse and swerved around a motorcycle lying on its side.
“Twelve o’clock!” Nathan shouted.
They came up on two charred vehicles framing the middle of the road. Raven squeezed through the gap, losing the passenger mirror in the process. He cursed, but kept the vehicle steady.
Nathan focused on the blaze. From this vantage point, the wall of fire looked larger than it had from the top of the hill. They weren’t even in the thick of things yet, and the vehicle was already taking a beating. Even worse, the rising heat was almost unbearable inside the suit. He felt like he was slowly being cooked alive.
“Hold on,” Raven said. He slowed and pulled onto the shoulder where there was a gap in the guardrail large enough to let a vehicle through. Rocks crunched under the tires as he drove toward the edge of the bank beside the stream.
Another body lay curled up at the water’s edge below, a last and desperate attempt to survive the flames. Nathan looked away from the charred corpse and held on to his seat, preparing for the jarring descent. Nathan’s bones rattled along with the chassis.
Raven steered around a boulder and pulled down the slope. The bloodied cow guard scraped against a rock before hitting the water. He drove out into the flow of mountain run-off. Normally the water was icy cold, but not tonight. Steam rose off the water where it lapped against the banks.
“My poor baby,” Raven said, gritting his teeth.
He powered through the weak current, the water coming up over the tires. Nathan wasn’t sure it would make much of a difference now that he could see the flames in the distance.
“You ready for this?” Raven said. He pulled up the other side of the bank and veered back onto the road, tires squealing over the pavement. The wipers finally cleared the windshield, providing a clear view of the fire eating the forest along the road.
Nathan gripped the handle tighter. Sheets of sweat poured down his face, stinging his skin. It felt like he was breathing inside a sauna.
“Punch it,” Nathan said. It was the same thing he had said to his old wingman and best friend, 1st Lieutenant Mark Blake, a hundred times. He didn’t know Raven well—and to be honest, he hadn’t made much of an effort—but Nathan was suddenly glad to have a wingman again.
Raven pushed the pedal to the floor, the engine groaning in response.
“Come on, baby,” he said.
Nathan leaned against the door to look at the front right tire.
“How’s it looking?” Raven asked.
“Good...I think.”
They swerved around a State Trooper’s cruiser and sped between a pickup truck and cargo van, losing the driver’s side mirror this time.
“Dammit,” he cursed. “I’m so sorry, girl.”
“Slow and steady, Raven.”
Despite Nathan’s warning, the speedometer continued to climb past fifty miles an hour. The inferno blazed like a tidal wave of fire. Nathan stared into it, determined. There was no turning back now.
Smoke seeped into the vehicle through the vents, squeezing past the towels they had covered them with. It swirled in the cabin, filling it with a black haze. The temperature continued to rise, too, and Nathan resisted the urge to take off his helmet and wipe his forehead.
This was it. They were almost to the flames.
Another pair of corpses smoldered on the asphalt just ahead. Raven twisted the wheel with calculated precision. Nathan tried to relax, but every muscle in his body was taut. He eyed the speedometer again. Sixty miles an hour.
The headlights cut through the smoke and hit a curve in the road ahead. Burning logs covered the path. Raven cut the gas and turned sharply, but there was nowhere to go but through the fire.
“Hold on!” he shouted.
The tires squealed. Fire licked the passenger side window, and Nathan reared back, gripping the seat with his broken arm. The Jeep tipped slightly, but then steadied out.
Nathan loosened his grip, pain setting in as Raven picked up speed again on the next stretch. Where there had once been a forest, there was now a cemetery of blackened timber and charcoaled boulders. Raven kept to the right side of the road, as far from the flames as possible.
Nathan twisted to see the terrain they had just passed through. The charcoaled cars, smoldering bodies on the ash covered road, and the flattened trees along the steaming river didn’t seem real. He’d never seen anything like this.
He turned back to face the windshield as Raven drove up into the safety of the cliffs. It was hard to tell where the smoke ended and the night sky began. Both men were breathing heavily from the adrenaline rush and the heat. Nathan blinked away the sweat around his eyes and focused on the orange flicker rising over the gray rocks.
He already knew what it was before they’d reached the crest of the road. Raven brought the vehicle to a stop. He shut the Jeep off and stepped out onto the hot pavement with Nathan.
They grabbed their rifles and stared out over what looked like the epicenter of a nuclear warhead strike. He imagined this was how D.C. had appeared after the ground detonation.
“My God,” Nathan muttered. He took a step forward, his boots crunching over debris scattered over the road.
“Winds are changing,” Raven said.
“And keeping the smoke away from us for now.”
“Yeah, but look at the way we came.”
The shifting winds were spreading the fire behind them. They were trapped on a hilltop between two burning valleys. But at least the air wasn’t as hot up here. He brought up his rifle and zoomed in on the bridge below. A burning Humvee blocked the road just in front of it.
Nathan backpedaled, his boots crunching over metal. He bent down and picked up a bullet casing, realization setting in. “Looks like someone ambushed that Humvee from up here.”
Raven eyed the casing and then looked back down at the bridge. “You think those were Lieutenant Dupree’s men?”
“I’d bet money on it,” Nathan finally said.
“Come on, we better get back to the Jeep,” Raven said.
They climbed inside and kept their rifles at the ready while the smoke rose off the fires all around them. It was hot, like sitting in a sauna. Nathan’s clothes were soaked beneath his suit, but as long as the smoke and fires didn’t shift, they would be safe up here for a while.
“You think anyone’s still out here?” he asked.
“No way they could have survived the flames or the smoke.” Raven squirmed in his seat. “Guess we’re going to have to wait it out up here.”
“The fires won’t spread over the rocks, right?” Nathan asked, suddenly unsure.
Raven shrugged and closed his eyes. “You better hope so, Major. This was your bright idea.”
“You’re going to sleep, just like that?” Nathan asked.
He shrugged again. “We both need rest. I have a feeling tomorrow’s going to be a big day if we survive the night. You should try—”
A bloody hand slapped the passenger window and Raven let out a high-pitched scream. Nathan scooted back from the door.
“What the hell?” he muttered, staring at the blood streaks on the window.
Raven fumbled for his gun and Nathan grabbed the door handle. He pushed it open, throwing the person outside backward.
Nathan grabbed his rifle and aimed the muzzle at a soldier in a CBRN suit. He was doubled over, gripping his stomach.
“Help me,” he said. “Please...”
Nathan lowered his rifle and got out of the truck. He approached the soldier carefully.
“What happened to you?” Nathan asked.
The man coughed and pointed toward the bridge. “We were ambushed down there
.”
Nathan glanced over his shoulder at Raven. He stood with his AR-15 aimed at the bluffs overhead, already hunting for threats.
A distant crack made Nathan flinch. The boom of thunder followed.
Nathan held up a hand toward the man. “What’s your name?”
“Jeff,” he said, his teeth chattering. “Jeff Dupree.”
Raven and Nathan exchanged an incredulous look.
“Lieutenant Dupree,” Nathan said. “I’m Major Nathan Sardetti...Charlize Montgomery’s brother.”
Dupree looked up, squinting behind his visor as if he was trying to see into the sun. He tried to talk, but blood bubbled out of his mouth.
Nathan took another step closer. “Let’s get back to the Jeep so we can take a look at that wound.”
Dupree allowed Nathan to help him back to the truck, grunting as they moved. Raven opened the back gate and helped Dupree sit down.
Nathan held in a breath when he saw the wounds. The lieutenant had taken a round to the side and another through his hand. It was remarkable he was still alive, but he’d lost a lot of blood.
“Lieutenant,” Nathan said. “I know you’re in a lot of pain, but I need to know about the men that shot you. I think they have my nephew.”
Dupree winced and looked Nathan in the eye, lips quivering. “I’m sorry, Major,” he choked and bent over, gripping his stomach. “We tried. I promise we tried.”
“I’m sure you did,” Nathan said. “I appreciate it more than you know. If there’s anything you can tell me…”
The lieutenant coughed again, and dark blood seeped from between his fingers.
“Shit,” said Raven.
Nathan waited for Dupree to regain his composure. The lieutenant licked his bloody lips, closed his eyes, and drew in a breath before opening his eyes again.
“The Sons of Liberty have Falcon,” he said, his voice little more than a rasp.
“Who the hell are the Sons of Liberty?” Raven asked, looking from Dupree to Nathan. “And what’s Falcon?”
Dupree reached up and gripped Nathan’s hand. “Fenix,” he said from between gritted teeth. “He called himself General Fenix. The Aryan bastards took Falcon to the Castle.”
COLTON WAS UP early enough to watch the sun rise above the Rockies the day after the barbecue. Streaks of purple and yellow climbed above the highest jagged peak. To the south, smoke continued to fill the sky.
Mornings were his time, a peaceful hour to reflect on the day before and the day ahead. At least, they used to be. The cough of a diesel engine shattered the calm not long after Colton wandered outside. Lindsey Plymouth pulled into the driveway.
He held up a hand, motioning for her to wait, and then slipped back inside his house. Kelly and Risa were sitting down to eat a breakfast of bread and jam. Kelly pointed to a paper bag on the table.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Lunch,” she said. “Don’t forget to eat today.”
Colton grinned, grabbed the bag, and kissed his wife and daughter goodbye. They followed him to the front door to watch him leave like they had virtually every morning before the attack.
“Mornin’, Chief,” Lindsey said. She waved at Kelly and Risa from the truck.
Despite the events of the day before, Lindsey didn’t look too rattled. She smiled as he hopped into the passenger seat.
“Do you have good news or bad news for me this morning, Detective?”
Lindsey swiped her hair from her freckled forehead and looked in the rearview mirror as she backed out. “Little of both, Chief. I’ve already got a good list of people that qualify to be deputies. Got an Army Ranger and a guy that served two tours in Iraq as an MP.”
Colton checked his bagged lunch. A tuna salad sandwich. Same thing he used to eat almost every day in Bond Park with Jake in the spring and summer, chatting about sports and fishing. It still hadn’t quite hit Colton that he’d never have lunch with Jake again.
“What’s the bad news?” he asked.
Lindsey started down the winding roads back into town. “Had another break-in. This time two men were spotted. I’ve already interviewed the clerk who thinks they’re from the Harmony Foundation Treatment Center at the edge of the park.”
“More addicts?” Colton said. “Jesus. I knew that place could end up being a liability. I want someone to head over there to see which residents have checked out or left.”
“I’m already on it, sir.”
“That it?” he asked hopefully.
“We’re hearing reports of raiders over the new radio. Robberies, violence, and…a rape, sir.”
Colton blinked. He had prepared himself for this, but hearing the word was a powerful reminder of how dangerous the world was becoming.
“You were right, Lindsey.”
She tilted her head. “About what, sir?”
“Needing more deputies. I’m also going to run something by Mayor Andrews this morning. I’ve been thinking we should put spotters throughout the valley, now that we’re going to have more bodies to help.”
“Not a bad idea,” Lindsey said. “Maybe we should assign someone to the Crow’s Nest at Prospect Mountain at all times.”
Colton nodded. “We’re going to need more rifles. Might need to ask around if some of our residents are willing to donate some for our new officers.”
“I’ll put that on my list, sir.” She paused, and then shot him a sideward glance. “Why do you have to run this stuff by Mayor Andrews? Woman doesn’t know a damn thing about protecting Estes Park. She owns an art store, for God’s sake.”
“She’s the mayor. She was elected. That still means something.”
“Yeah, but—”
“You going to start questioning me like Don?” Colton asked.
Lindsey shook her head. “I’ve got your back one hundred and ten percent, sir.” She parked the truck in front of town hall. Colton opened the door and went to get out but hesitated, remaining halfway inside the vehicle. Hearing about the rape and the increasing violence had him on edge.
“You watch your back out there today, kiddo,” Colton said.
Lindsey’s pale cheeks flared. “Kiddo?”
“Sorry. I meant to say Detective Plymouth.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Just be careful.” He wished he had someone to send out there with her, but his officers were all busy protecting critical facilities or at road blocks that Don had assigned them.
“I’ll report back in a few hours,” Lindsey said. “Good luck with Mayor Andrews.”
He patted the top of the truck and then walked into town hall. The mayor’s office door was already propped open. He knocked anyways and stepped into the room. To his surprise, Don wasn’t out checking on patrols—he was sitting in the chair in front of Gail’s desk with his cowboy hat on his lap. He nodded at Colton, but didn’t make an effort to stand.
“Good morning,” Gail said.
Colton looked at Don. “What are you doing here?”
“Sergeant Aragon is here to discuss a few items,” Gail said.
“Sergeant Aragon has work to do,” Colton replied. “These daily briefings are supposed to be between just us two.”
Gail took off her glasses and set them gently on the table. “Colton, please have a seat. Let’s not make this meeting any more difficult than it needs to be.”
She gestured for the chair next to Don.
“I’ll stand,” Colton said. He controlled his anger by counting to ten in his head. Starting a fight now wasn’t going to do anyone any good.
“Suit yourself,” Gail said. “Let’s get right down to it. I want an update on what’s going on outside this valley.”
Colton gave her a rundown of the major law enforcement and recovery activities since the EMP attack, including the capture of the Todds, as well as his plans for elk hunting and water preservation. He finished with the task that he’d given Detective Plymouth to find new officers.
“How many officers?” Gail
asked.
“As many as it takes,” Don said before Colton could answer. “We can’t let anyone in. We have to cut off the borders.”
Colton narrowed his eyes at the sergeant. They’d butted heads before, but Don had never shown this kind of attitude. Maybe it was because Jake was gone, but Colton had the feeling Don had finally decided to make a power play.
“I’d like to be in charge of the deputizing,” Don said. “Lindsey is a smart young lady, but she isn’t trained in hiring.”
“She’s more than capable, and I’ve already put her in charge,” Colton said.
Gail tapped her finger on the desk. “Back to the elk. How are we going to protect the herds? We need to be careful about how many we kill.”
“I’ve already talked to Ranger Field, and he’s going to help monitor the hunts and make sure the rules are enforced.”
“When the food is gone, we’re not getting more,” Don said. “We need to consider evacuating all non-locals. There’s no way we can feed everyone indefinitely.”
“Evacuating?” Colton clenched his fist. “Is that what you’d call it?”
“Anyone who doesn’t have a valuable skill set is a burden on our town,” Don said. “You’re the one who told our officers to not let anyone in who can’t contribute.”
“I also said anyone already in town the night of the attack would be safe here.” Colton’s fingers twitched as though they wanted nothing more than to curl into a fist and sock Don in the jaw. “I’m not going back on my word, Sergeant.”
“All due respect, but you’ve made some poor decisions lately,” Don said. “First with the handling of the murders, letting Raven and Nathan take our best vehicle, and then using medical supplies on a woman who probably won’t live.”
Colton shook his head. “Not this bullshit again.”
“Stop it, both of you,” Gail said.
Colton continued to glare at Don, who held his gaze.
“If you’re both done,” she said, looking between the two men, “there’s something else I want to discuss. Our jail was never meant for holding prisoners long term. What do you suggest we do about Milo and Cindy Todd?”
“Hang them,” Don said.
Colton couldn’t believe his ears. He gawked at his patrol sergeant. Was this the world they were living in now—a world where justice was decided in an office instead of a courtroom?
Trackers 2: The Hunted (A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Thriller) Page 15