Trackers 3: The Storm (A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Thriller)

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Trackers 3: The Storm (A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Thriller) Page 12

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith


  “I think some of those people died,” Allie said.

  “I hope your uncle gets those bad men,” Teddy replied.

  Sandra pulled open the door and stepped inside the room before the conversation went any further.

  “What are you guys talking about?” she asked.

  Teddy didn’t bother to lie. “The bad men.” He raised his stump and rubbed the bandaged end with his hand. “Is what Allie said true? Did those people who got brought to the hospital today die?”

  Sandra knew she was supposed to be checking on her patients, but she also had a responsibility as a mother to talk to these kids about death. There was no way to shield them from the harsh reality of the world they lived in now, but she could at least help them understand it a little better.

  She moved up to the side of Teddy’s bed. “I’m sorry, but we couldn’t save everyone. Sometimes people are too sick or hurt for medicine to fix them.”

  “But Mr. Raven is going to hurt the bad guys, right?”

  Sandra sighed. “He’s going to bring them to justice.”

  “Why doesn’t he just kill them?” Allie asked.

  The question made Sandra flinch. Her daughter had changed so much in the past month. Sandra could barely recognize her as the little girl who used to play with ponies and sing pop songs. Allie was quieter now, her big, dark eyes ever watchful. Brown Feather had stolen some of Allie’s innocence, and for a moment Sandra felt a surge of satisfaction in knowing that Raven had split the bastard’s head open with a hatchet.

  She took a deep breath, closed her eyes briefly, and then exhaled.

  “When someone does something bad‌—‌really bad‌—‌sometimes you want to do something bad to them in return,” she said slowly, searching for the right words. “For now, you two should focus on healing so that maybe someday you can be police officers or doctors and help people instead.”

  Teddy shook his head. “I don’t want to be a police officer. I want to be a hunter like Mr. Raven. I want a dog like Creek, and I want to go out and track the bad people down and hurt them so they can’t hurt anyone else. Besides, Chief Colton said he was gonna shoot the guys who hurt Mr. Raven and all those other people.”

  “What? When did you hear that?”

  Teddy lowered his stump next to his side and hesitated before replying, “I overhead the doctors talking with Chief Colton, and he was saying he was going to kill the people responsible for the shootings. Doctor Duffy said that was good.”

  Sandra rubbed her forehead and sighed. A lot of things had changed so drastically since the bombs dropped.

  Everything had changed.

  “What about those people who were hanged in Bond Park?” Allie asked. “Those people deserved to die, right?”

  “I...it...” Sandra’s words trailed off. “Raven and Colton don’t want to kill anyone. They only do it if they are forced to in self-defense, or to save someone else.”

  Teddy squinted at Sandra like he was trying to understand and finally said, “Okay, Miss Sandra.”

  Allie moved over to the bed to stand next to Sandra, holding her tattered stuffed pony.

  “Nurse Spears,” called a voice.

  In the doorway stood Doctor Duffy. He gestured for her to join him in the hall. She smiled at the kids.

  “I’ll come check on you two later. Be good, okay?” Sandra said.

  Allie and Teddy both nodded. Sandra kissed Allie on the cheek and then walked out into the hallway.

  “What’s wrong now?” she asked Doctor Duffy.

  “What’s not wrong? The generators are running low on fuel already. Doctor Newton thinks we’re going to have to amputate John Palmer’s right arm and part of his left. We’ve lost six patients today, and another six are critically injured.”

  “God,” Sandra breathed.

  “I sure hope Colton can find the bastard responsible, because we’re all tapped out here. We can’t take on another patient.”

  Sandra thought back to what Teddy had overheard earlier. “You really need to watch what you say around the kids, Doctor.”

  “Excuse me?” Duffy raised a brow.

  “About how you hoped Colton kills the shooter. Teddy overheard you say that.”

  Duffy scratched the stubble on his chin, and then shook his head. “Did you not just hear me list all the problems we have, Sandra? And you’re lecturing me about what I should say around Teddy?” He let out a huff.

  “I’m sorry, it’s just...”

  “I have a lot to do, and so do you, so let’s get to it,” Duffy said, turning and walking away.

  Sandra drew in a breath and followed Duffy. She stopped at the open door to their current morgue. Bloody blankets covered the victims of the attack. Six more souls lost. And there would be more bloodshed. Her heart sank at the thought of Raven laid out under a blanket. It seemed like just a matter of time.

  Duffy continued on, but Sandra paused, her heart heavy. The evil that had killed these people wasn’t going to stop, but she couldn’t let Allie and Teddy grow up thinking it was okay to fight evil with evil.

  And how can you tell them that when you’re glad Brown Feather is dead?

  She shook her head and kept walking.

  A DISTANT CRACKING sound rattled Raven’s bones. His first instinct was to look up for Thunderer, but this wasn’t his dream, and the sound wasn’t thunder‌—‌it was a gunshot.

  The herd of elk heard it too. They bolted across the meadow toward the woods, away from the gunfire, while Raven led Colton and Lindsey in the opposite direction. The single shot faded into the night, leaving only the crunch of boots on hardened snow. Creek emerged between a pair of Douglas firs on the trail ahead with his tail between his legs.

  “I sure hope Hines or Beedie fired that shot,” Colton said.

  Raven slowly pivoted in the snow to find the source, but it was impossible to determine the direction from the echo, and he hadn’t seen a muzzle flash. He waved the group down the trail meandering through the meadows, letting Creek take point. The Rocky Mountains towered all around them, the jagged peaks reaching toward the moon. Each step brought them deeper into the park, which made no sense to Raven. Whenever he began a hunt, he would transport himself into the mind of the creature or person he was tracking, trying to plot out their moves. But he couldn’t figure out why their chase would have headed into the wilderness. Why not head south or take refuge in a house in the town? Why come all the way out here?

  The farther Raven trekked, the more he struggled to understand the shooter. In his mind’s eye, he pictured the man pulling down his bandana to reveal a silver goatee and crooked nose. Those cold blue eyes had stared into Raven’s, but when Raven had stared back, he had seen nothing but hatred. Their chase was like Brown Feather and his brother, Turtle: psychotic.

  Raven halted to check on Creek. The dog had stopped to sniff the snow. Crouching down sent a flash of excruciating pain across Raven’s ribs. Stars danced before his vision. He sucked in an icy breath and waited for the pain to pass.

  You’re as light as a feather. Light as a feather, he repeated in his mind. It was the motto that had helped him in the past when darkness or pain threatened to send him over the edge.

  After his vision cleared, he directed his flashlight at a cluster of red spots in the snow. Something or somebody had bled here. Creek took off running into the forest with the scent fresh on his muzzle.

  Colton and Lindsey caught up to Raven a moment later. Another gunshot rang out before anyone could say a word. This one was closer than the first, and there was no doubt of the direction this time. Raven could tell it was coming from the northeast. Colton looked that way and flashed an advance signal.

  They silently stepped off the trail and cut through the woods. Raven’s shredded ear throbbed from the cold. He was really hurting now. Maybe Colton had been right back in the station parking lot. Hell, maybe he should have listened to Sandra just this once.

  No. You have to fight.

  The word
s from Thunderer in his dream replayed in his mind, and he brought his crossbow up with new determination. They had to find this guy and take him alive. It was the only way to figure out who these raiders were and what they were after.

  For the next thirty minutes, they moved toward the direction of the second gunshot. The wind had died down, but the temperature continued to drop. It was going to be freezing soon, and while Raven at least had the proper clothing, his injuries were starting to slow him down.

  He knew this area well, fortunately. They weren’t far from the place where he’d found a missing girl that had wandered away from her family into the park. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

  As they moved deeper into the woods, Raven found himself once again contemplating why the hell their chase would come all the way out here. Unless the man had somehow managed to patch up his injury and get some warmer clothes, he wouldn’t last long in the frigid temperatures without shelter.

  A chilling thought rushed through Raven as they worked their way through the trees. Was it possible this guy was a former soldier himself, maybe a Special Ops type that was trying to lure the officers out into the woods to even the playing field? He recalled the heartless words the man had said when asked why the raiders had killed innocents. They got in our way…

  Raven halted in the snow and searched the trees with his flashlight, cursing under his cold breath. What if he was leading his friends into an ambush? What if this guy was trying to inflict the most possible damage for no other reason than that he liked killing?

  He suddenly had a bad feeling Hines and Beedie had already walked into a trap.

  “Why are we stopping?” Colton asked quietly.

  Gusting wind rushed through the spindly branches overhead, loosening the compact snow. Chunks plopped down and crumpled on the hard ground. The howl of the wind ebbed and flowed like the forest was trying to speak to them‌—‌a warning, perhaps.

  Colton and Lindsey raked the woods with their flashlight beams. Lindsey’s captured Creek’s white fur. He was almost camouflaged in the backdrop of snow. The dog wagged his tail and then took off running down a narrow trail they had previously overlooked.

  Raven whistled after the dog, his heart pounding at the thought of his best friend bolting into a trap. Despite the pain, Raven ran after Creek. Colton and Lindsey fell into line behind them. The trail Hines and Beedie had taken wound up through the Rockies, where it would intersect with Trail Ridge Road. They were already at nine thousand feet above sea level, and Raven was having difficulty breathing from his bruised ribs. It was only going to get worse from here.

  He kept moving, pushing past the ache of his burning lungs. Colton and Lindsey were by his side now, jogging with their weapons raised.

  They moved for another ten minutes until Raven had to stop and rest. He raised a hand, gasping for air. Colton directed Lindsey to hold security and then walked over.

  “You okay, Sam?”

  Raven nodded. “I’m good, just need a second to catch my breath.”

  A flash of white darted across the trail, and Lindsey swiveled toward the movement. Colton raised his AR-15 and then lowered the barrel.

  “Don’t shoot,” he said.

  Creek had reemerged on the trail with something in his maw.

  “I told you to get back here,” Raven said sternly. He signaled for Lindsey to watch their rear and for Colton to take point while Creek trotted over. The Akita dropped a stocking cap on the snow in front of Raven’s boots. He shone his light on the Estes Park Police Department logo stitched to the wool.

  “Shit,” Colton muttered.

  Raven bent down and picked up the hat. “I think we got ourselves a real Rambo.”

  “Great,” Colton said, spitting his toothpick out. “That’s just fan-fucking-tastic.”

  Lindsey, shivering, looked away from her shotgun’s sights to study the ridgeline. “There are some cabins and a ranch just over this hill, right?”

  Raven knew the place she was talking about, but it still didn’t make sense for the shooter to come all the way out here to take refuge. He motioned for Creek to get behind them. This time Raven took point with his crossbow aimed up the trail. Dizzy but relentless, he stalked his chase. They were getting close now‌—‌but Raven still had no idea what he would find at the end of this hunt.

  “Stay sharp,” Colton said, directing them onward.

  The forest became a two-dimensional canvas, and Raven divided the terrain horizontally into thirds. His eyes moved with his flashlight beam, roving from left to right and back again in a systematic scan for movement. He was completely in tune with his surroundings, at one with nature, which helped keep his mind off the pain of his injuries. Flakes fluttered away from branches in the wind, falling to the rocky ground, but Raven paid them no heed.

  Halfway up the trail, he slowed his pace and squinted at what looked like smoke rising from a chimney. They were right on the border of the park now. There were several people living out here. Some of them had been grandfathered in by the federal government, which allowed them to keep family property in the park, while others had built on the border.

  Raven placed the butt of his crossbow against his shoulder and continued up the hill, his lungs rattling. He could see part of the valley beyond now. At the crest of the ridgeline, he stopped and shut off his flashlight, motioning for the others to do the same. Darkness flooded the forest, closing in like a blanket tossed overhead. Blinking, he waited for his eyes to adjust to the glow of moonlight. The wind howled and brought a voice that seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere.

  “Help!”

  Raven turned toward the silhouettes of Colton and Lindsey. For a split second, he hesitated, unsure if this was part of the shooter’s ambush. “Lights,” he whispered.

  One by one, their flashlights flickered on and illuminated a crumpled body at the bottom of the hill about two hundred feet away. The bearded man reached up toward the lights with a hand covered in blood.

  “That’s Beedie,” Colton whispered. He scanned the area for several seconds. “Where the hell is Hines?”

  Lindsey took a step forward, but Raven held her back. “Wait.”

  “I’ll check it out,” Colton said. “You guys cover me.”

  He set off down the hill, and Raven and Lindsey took up positions to cover him. Creek had vanished again, but Raven didn’t call him back this time. He needed the dog in this fight even if it was a risk.

  Colton cautiously made his way down the steep incline and stopped behind a tree about ten feet from Beedie. Raven could hear them talking quietly, but he couldn’t make out the words.

  Then a shout rose out above their hushed voices. “Over here!”

  Lindsey waved at Raven and said, “That sounds like Hines.”

  She moved before Raven could stop her. For a moment his mind froze like the air around him. This didn’t make sense. Why would Hines leave Beedie?

  Gunfire whizzed through the forest, shattering his worried thoughts.

  Raven dove for cover as bullets punched into the bark above his head. Return fire rang out at the bottom of the hill, lancing east toward the ridgeline. Flashlight beams crisscrossed the forest and sky like beacons. He shut off his beam and crawled in the pitch-blackness for safety.

  For a moment everything was quiet, nothing but the rustle of the wind in the trees.

  Then came the voices.

  “Colton, where are you?” It was Lindsey.

  “Stay where you are,” Colton said back.

  Raven pushed himself up, grabbed his crossbow, and set off at a hunch. Somebody was going to get shot if they carried on like this. Another flurry of gunshots flashed to the west and hit into the snow at the bottom of the hill.

  Lindsey cried out in pain.

  Light as a feather. Light as a feather, Raven repeated as he bolted for a tree. He stopped and whistled for Creek. He couldn’t see the dog but knew he was out there, flanking the shooter. Raven was doing the same thing. He mov
ed around the outcropping of rocks and halted to look down the valley. Lindsey was crouched behind a tree, and Colton was about two hundred feet away. Hines was still nowhere in sight, and Beedie was still in the snow, unmoving now.

  The shooter was positioned in a fort of rocks to the west, dug in from the looks of it. Raven kept his beam off and moved in the darkness, using his other senses to guide him. He scrambled across the snow, keeping low. If Raven couldn’t see much, then neither could their chase.

  Colton fired, speckling the terrain with bullets. Return fire flashed, and Raven used the opportunity to move behind the fortress of rocks. Creek darted through the woods to his right and disappeared a moment later.

  We got you right where we want you now, Raven thought.

  He raised his bow as he ran up a track to the top of the rock formation. It was narrow and gave Raven little room to maneuver. Halfway there, he crouched and waited for Colton to distract the shooter, trusting him to understand the situation and back his play. The cracks came a moment later. Raven bounded around the final outcropping of rocks and fired a bolt at the sniper positioned against the north side.

  A scream of agony echoed through the valley. The man slowly turned toward Raven, who had dropped his bow and un-holstered his Glock. He prepared to shoot again, but then he realized something that made him draw in a sharp breath. The man was unarmed.

  So where was the rifle they’d heard?

  The man he’d shot staggered into the moonlight, and Raven glimpsed his face. Instead of a silver goatee and blue eyes, he saw the pained features of Officer Sam Hines. The tip of the bolt Raven had fired into his back stuck all the way out of his upper chest.

  What happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion. His gut dropped as the hammer of a revolver clicked and a cold barrel touched his cheek. In his peripheral vision, Raven saw the man with the silver goatee, now dressed in a heavy winter coat and holding a Colt .45 revolver.

  “I thought I killed you already,” the man said. “Guess I gots to kill you again.”

 

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