“We indulge him,” Russ said.
“Did he talk to Alina?” Leonard asked, hoping for comforting details.
Wicker and Russ exchanged a somber look. It was as if a large cloud swiftly covered the sun.
“What?”
“She’s in prison,” Russ said. “They grabbed her yesterday afternoon.”
Natalia put her hands over her mouth.
“But Max can get her out, can’t he?” Leonard asked optimistically.
Russ shook his head. “We have over a dozen moles in the prison system. One of our sources sent an encrypted email to the intelligence team in Grand Junction. According to him, Alina’s in Arvada Maximum. No one’s ever broken out of AM.”
“Maximum security? Alina?”
“She’s lucky she didn’t end up in the infirmary. She’s suspected of a political crime. Wiping is a serious offense.”
“Wiping?”
Russ tilted his head to one side, a slight frown forming on his face. “You two, from what I understand.”
“You mean, disabling our transmitters?”
“You’re clean, aren’t you?”
Leonard staggered and hobbled over to a tree. He placed his hand on the rough bark and buried his head in his arm. “My God. What have I done?”
A moment later, a gentle touch on his shoulder sent a quiver through his body.
Her voice brimming with compassion, Wicker said softly, “We all know the risks when we become counter-revs. Shinskey…uh, Max…spoke very highly of your wife.”
“He loves her,” Leonard whispered, almost choking on the words.
“I’m sorry?”
“He loves her, doesn’t he?”
Wicker leaned against the tree and lifted Leonard’s chin with her finger. “I don’t know the answer to that question, Leonard, but I do know Shinskey thought Alina was an extraordinary, brave woman.”
He nodded, as if her reply affirmed his hypothesis. “He loves her,” Leonard said.
Wicker shrugged. “Maybe.”
She took his hand and led him over to where Russ and Chester stood. Aiden and Alina sat fifty yards away on a large tree stump, the young girl’s head upon Aiden’s shoulder, his arm around her back.
“So Alina’s lucky she ended up in prison, huh?” Leonard asked dryly. “Why didn’t they just send her to the infirmary?”
Wicker bit her lip and gazed at Russ, her eyes saying something Leonard could not quite decipher.
“There was someone who wanted visiting rights,” Russ explained gravely.
Wicker stomped on Russ’s foot.
For a moment, Leonard assumed they spoke of Max, but that arrangement didn’t make sense. Max would not have the clout to tell the Feds where to place Alina. In fact if he interfered, they’d just haul him away, too. A split second before the thought made a complete circle through his brain, Leonard’s heart dropped like a grapefruit rolling off the counter and onto a cold, tile floor.
“Carlyle,” he muttered, his mind struggling with the concept.
Wicker turned her lips inside until they formed a thin, pink line. Natalia and Aiden reappeared. Thankfully, they had not heard Leonard’s remark.
“Let’s go inside,” Chester said, stirring the dismal silence. “We still have some squirrel jerky on the table.”
Leonard felt a wave of nausea rip through his stomach. Natalia visibly gagged. The three other adults missed the spectacle, but Aiden stifled a laugh. Surely the boy understood that snickering in the wake of his new friend’s devastating news was entirely distasteful. Leonard nearly told him off.
But, out of the blue, Natalia burgeoned with emotion, as if the situation fed her need to release anger. She shoved Aiden, causing him to stumble backward. Clumsily, he steadied himself. Advancing on the poor boy, Natalia shouted, “Squirrel jerky? You fed us squirrel jerky? That’s so sick.”
He chuckled and held up his hands in surrender. “Actually, Miss City Girl, starving to death is sick.” A smile remained on his face but the impact of his words hit their target. Natalia nodded, capitulating, and Aiden put an arm over her shoulder.
Leading her to the cabin, he said, “We have peaches.”
“Peaches?” she said skeptically.
“Yeah. Peaches. They grow in trees.”
“Where the squirrels live.”
“Right. And on a good day, we can catch a whole meal with one stone.”
She looked at him, incredulous. “You hunt with stones?”
“No, goofball. We use traps. You’re so damn gullible.”
She punched him several times as he escorted her up the steps and through the door. They passed right by Leonard as if he were not there.
***
After Russ and Wicker polished off the squirrel jerky and traded stories with Chester, Aiden divided up the peaches. Lush and tender, they were the perfect afternoon snack.
Wiping his hands on a cloth napkin, Russ pushed away from the table. “Let me get the supplies,” he said, as he exited the cabin.
What about Alina?
Leonard wondered why the subject of his wife’s fate no longer occupied the minds of his companions. Because her fate is settled, he lamented. The realization gored his conscience. Every step he took in the free world and every breath of mountain air had come at the price of Alina’s freedom. He would never forgive himself.
I should go back to Denver. Turn myself in. Make Carlyle use his influence to get Alina out. The thoughts buzzed in his brain like a cloud of locusts on the descent. Then his eyes caught Natalia’s.
Please, Leonard…make it count.
Alina gave up everything. It was Leonard’s duty to honor his wife’s parting request and make her sacrifice count for something — their daughter’s new life in Grand Junction.
I will, Alina. I promise.
Russ returned with a backpack. He laid it on the table and pulled out a bottle of shampoo, a half-dozen batteries, a box of ammunition, four rolls of toilet paper, and two peaches carefully wrapped. Russ also retrieved several silver coins from his pocket.
“Perfect,” Chester said in delight. “The Browning twenty-two is cleaned and ready to go.”
Staring at the silver coins, Leonard’s heart sank. “You don’t use regular dollars in Mesa County?”
“No worries,” Russ said. “Woods here won’t take paper money, but we still have plenty in circulation.”
“We don’t have any money, Dad,” Natalia whispered in panic.
“Supposedly your mother sewed our savings into the sleeping bags. But since we were missing maps and flashlights, perhaps we ought to verify that it’s really there.”
Leonard spread the sleeping bags out on the floor and caressed them gently. Nothing crinkled.
Aiden handed him a pocketknife. “Just poke around a little,” the boy suggested.
After cutting several small holes, Leonard discovered something near the bottom of his sleeping bag. Hundred dollar bills. Natalia’s bag also contained them. The Tramers fished through the bags and began counting the cash.
Wicker grinned. “That oughta get you set up real nicely.”
“Good,” Chester said. “The newbies are financially covered. Let’s finish our transaction, Russ.” He made his way to the front door. “I’ll turn on the generator.”
A moment later, a soft hum purred somewhere behind the premises. Chester returned and wandered to the back of the cabin. Wicker and Russ followed. In curiosity, Leonard trailed behind them, leaving Natalia to stack the money and tuck it into his backpack.
Chester stopped at a large wooden door with several locks. He pulled out a ring of keys and unlocked the door, using a different key for each bolt. The door swung open with a creak. Chester flipped on a switch and a seventy-five-watt light bulb popped on, providing adequate illumination for the ten-by-twenty foot, windowless room.
Leonard gasped. Rifles and shotguns hung on the left wall and four gun safes lined the back. On the right, shelves of books reached from floo
r to ceiling. The room appeared to serve as both a library and an arsenal.
Leonard’s companions stepped inside. Chester made a beeline for a safe in the far corner. A mild odor of smoke or gunpowder wafted into the hallway, causing Leonard to hesitate before stepping across the threshold. Once inside, he jumped back suddenly. On his right what appeared to be two rocket launchers were affixed firmly to the wall.
He wasn’t kidding.
Chester handed a semi-automatic pistol to Russ. The dark wood inlay on the grip gave the gun a classic appeal. Russ turned it over before opening the action and taking a peek inside. Then he popped out the empty magazine and tested the spring mechanism.
“Almost good as new,” Chester bragged. “An awesome target practice pistol.”
Russ nodded. “Thanks, Ches’. It’s perfect.”
Wicker carefully took possession of the weapon, reinserted the magazine, and snapped the action closed. Pointing away, she looked down the sights. “Feels good in small hands. Laura’s going to love it.”
While they chatted, Leonard wandered over to the library section. One bookshelf contained volumes about firearms and hunting plus a number of books on aviation and aircraft. Shelves of political, economic, and history texts towered to the ceiling. A few spines with the word Stasi in the title caught Leonard’s eye, although Chester had collected volumes on the Soviets and the Nazis as well as Mao, Stalin, and other heinous dictators that had come and gone. Thumbing the spines on the next shelf, Leonard noticed an author called Hayek, and he wondered if that was where the Labrador got his name. All of the books were worn and a few had water damage. Others appeared to have been rescued from a fire. Leonard sniffed. The musty, smoky smell emanated from the bookshelves, not the gun safes.
“Need some bedtime reading?” Chester asked as he appeared at Leonard’s side.
“I…no. I was just looking.”
Chester sighed. “It would do the world good if more people studied these books.”
“Have you read them all?”
“Most of them. Some came from what remained of our house. Others from the Summit County Library, which had collapsed but not burned. I rescued a few others here and there.”
“And I found a bunch for him in Junction,” Wicker said, looking slightly put out that he had forgotten to mention it. Then she shuddered. “It feels weird, walking into someone else’s abandoned home and taking things. All those people, uprooted so quickly. Most of them left nearly everything behind.” Her mood lightened. “Of course people have since moved in. We’ve got quite a community.”
Chester smiled at the young woman. “She’s a good girl. I gave her a book list and she found all kinds of stuff for me.”
Wicker punched him hard in the back of the shoulder. “Not a girl. I can outrun you and outshoot you, mister.”
“Bullshit.”
“You know it’s true, Teddy Bear,” she cooed, tipping her head coyly.
Chester scowled playfully at Wicker. Then he turned his head abruptly and addressed Leonard. “She is the only person on the planet allowed to call me Teddy Bear, got that?”
“Yes, sir,” Leonard shot back. I have no intention of calling you Teddy Bear.
After Chester relocked the door and they returned to the main room, everyone settled back down at the table. Aiden made some coffee before Chester turned off the generator.
While pouring coffee for the guests, Aiden said, “It was Natalia’s birthday yesterday. Did you know that, Father?”
Chester snorted. “‘Did you know that, Father?’ Of course I didn’t know that.” He turned to Natalia and smiled. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”
Natalia blushed.
“Go, girl!” Wicker said, raising her chipped coffee mug. “How old are you?”
“Thirteen.”
“Thirteen. Damn! You’ve got yourself a teenager now. How about that, Leo?”
Leonard cringed. Why did girls think he enjoyed being called Leo? What gave this feisty little blonde the impression she could develop her own nicknames? Then again, it was a far cry better than being dubbed Teddy Bear, so Leonard decided to let it go.
“So I thought,” Aiden continued, as he poured his father’s coffee, “it might be nice to dip into the candy reserve.” He raised his eyebrows roguishly.
“Oh you thought, did you?” Chester retorted. “And here I believed you were being hospitable to your new friend.”
“I am.” Aiden touched his chest in mock indignation. “What could be more hospitable than a stashed Reese’s?”
Chester rolled his eyes, stood up, and fumbled with his keys. He pulled a small flashlight out of his left pocket. After their host disappeared in the back of the cabin, Leonard asked, “He keeps the candy locked up?”
“In a gun safe.” Aiden grinned, sitting down next to Natalia, his body touching hers at the hips — a little too close for Leonard’s comfort.
“A gun safe?” Leonard coughed, wondering how a Reese’s peanut butter cup with a hint of gunpowder would taste.
Aiden nodded, clearly pleased with himself. “He’s got a teenage boy to contend with.”
“Just exactly how old are you, Aiden?”
“Fifteen next month.”
“Natalia’s thirteen,” Leonard reemphasized.
Aiden cast him a puzzled, amused look. “I know.” He paused as if waiting for his response to sink in. “We were just talking about that, remember?”
She’s jailbait to you in three years, Leonard thought disdainfully, but he kept his disapproval to himself. We’ll see who’s laughing then. The moment the thought crossed his synapses, Leonard felt a wave of shame. Having briefly been in prison, he realized that the concept of tossing around casual references to incarceration was no longer humorous. After all, here was a charming, although somewhat precocious, teenage boy who had witnessed horrors Leonard could only imagine. Aiden endured the tragedy, yet maintained his agreeable personality. The young man was courageous, a survivor. Clearly taken with Natalia, as boys will be, Aiden had done nothing criminal. Observing the two of them talking softly as if they shared some secret, Leonard glanced away.
Chester returned, lugging a large plastic container filled with old Halloween candy. He allowed Natalia to choose first and she fished out a Reese’s.
“What did I tell you?” Aiden cried enthusiastically. “Aiden Woods always knows what the ladies like.”
Leonard choked but kept his mouth shut.
After everyone had selected a piece, Chester returned the delicacies to their hiding place. The candy bars were stale, but Leonard could not detect any gunpowder.
During a moment of silence, while everyone was savoring their candy, Leonard ventured into uncharted territory. “Why do you need so many guns?”
Three adult heads turned simultaneously.
“Have a gun phobia, do you?” Chester said.
Leonard held his hands in the air defensively. “No, no. I’m just asking. Do the Feds come here often?”
“Not anymore,” Russ replied, his deep voice soothing Leonard’s frazzled nerves.
“Oh,” Leonard said softly, silently grateful that he wouldn’t have to participate in a gunfight. Glancing to his left, he noticed Hayek near a throw rug. The dog lay with his chin on the floor, front legs stretched out before him. His head remained in one position while his dark brown eyes moved from face to face.
“We had to hold our ground for several months, though,” Russ continued. “Right after the Raze.”
“Those of us who survived,” Chester added.
“And nearly a thousand people we recruited from Junction,” Russ said. “Plus a few dozen from Wyoming.”
“There are people in Wyoming?” Leonard asked in awe.
“Free communities operate under the radar throughout the U.S. Our communication with them is off and on.”
“Changes in the underground computer network are endless,” Wicker said. “It’s hard enough maintaining communication with Denver.”
Russ looked at Chester. The older man appeared weary of recounting the past, so the large, dark-skinned man launched into the details. “After the Raze, the soldiers rounded up survivors.”
“We heard that part,” Leonard interrupted, hoping to spare Natalia a repeat of the ugly details.
Russ frowned, slightly annoyed. “So after the soldiers thought they killed everyone, they left.” He paused, staring at Leonard. “That part okay for you?”
“Yes, sorry. Please go on.”
“Those of us who were in hiding emerged over a period of days. We searched for other survivors. One team buried the dead while another team made their way to Grand Junction. They went through Buena Vista, taking a long, roundabout route. Those of us who remained in Summit County gathered as many guns as we could find in abandoned buildings. We tested vehicles and located unharmed gas tanks. Our Junction team returned with recruits a few days later and several truckloads of weapons, including six rocket launchers.”
“Where did they get rocket launchers?”
“A private collection. The owner came along for the fight. Thankfully, he had a shitload of ammo.”
Leonard glanced at Wicker. She listened politely but had nothing to add. He surmised that she had not been a participant. After all, she would have barely been an adult at the time.
“We did not see any activity for a week, so we started to relax a little. People planned to return to Mesa County and continue their efforts to fortify Grand Junction.”
“Then one afternoon, we heard them,” Chester mumbled. “The whap, whap, whap of the birds.”
“Helicopters?” Natalia asked, her eyes wide.
Leonard tried to imagine the depth of fear and pain such a noise would elicit in a man who’d survived a brutal attack like the Raze.
Russ smiled. “But we were ready for them.”
Chester’s hardened expression lightened. “Yes, we were,” he said proudly.
“The first two helicopters were probably scouts. We blasted them out of the sky. When their scouts failed to return, the Feds sent more. Over the next several days, we shot down every helicopter that came into view. We had launchers posted at six strategic points across Summit County.”
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