by John Grit
Deni reached out and hooked a palm tree with her left arm and held on as if she would collapse without its support. Gasping, she looked back. “The bastards are burning the barn too.”
Brian turned to look. His chest heaving, he snapped his head around and looked up at his father with eyes full of rage.
Before he had time to speak, Nate cut him off. “Be more afraid than mad. There must be three dozen of them, and they’re outfitted like an army. Now let’s get across. We don’t want them to catch us in the water.”
“We’ll be sitting ducks,” Deni added.
They scrambled down to the water’s edge and waded in. Nate scanned the bank quickly with his eyes, finding no logs suitable for helping them across. “You two have your waterproof pack liners sealed well?” He asked Deni and Brian.
They both answered yes.
“Good. You’ll need the floatation. The river’s not more than five feet deep until just before you reach the far bank. I’ll take Samantha across.” He hung his rifle on his neck, so he would they have both hands. “Wait there until I’m on dry land. I’ll throw you a rope – Caroline first – and pull you across fast. You can hold your breath that long, if you go under.”
Deni checked behind them. “Let Brian go first.”
Nate heard no sounds of pursuit, but he knew the men who hunted them were all young and in good shape and couldn’t be far behind. “Don’t argue. I’ll need your rifle to shoot them off him if they catch us before we’re all across.” Not wasting time, he waded in, creating a wave in front, as he pushed forward against the water’s resistance. He noticed the river was low and the current weak. It hadn’t rained much lately. The tea-colored water felt cold at first, then warm. Heavy with ammunition, his pack had many pounds of negative flotation and tried to drag him under when it got too deep to wade. He sidestroked the rest of the way, his mouth below water some of the time, but Samantha’s head always above water. After lifting Samantha onto the bank, he crawled onto dry land and yanked his pack off. A coil of 3/8-inch nylon rope was tucked under the pack’s top flap, where he could get to it fast. After Caroline threw him her M4 rifle, he cast the rope to her. She looped it around her, and he began to pull. For two yards, she was under, but he soon had her on the bank, gasping for air.
Caroline scrambled to grab her rifle and get into shooting position. She would be ready to kill anyone she saw on the far bank and keep them off Deni and Brian. When Samantha ran to her, she pushed the little girl down behind a log.
The process worked just as well for Deni. She rushed to get into position to fire across the river.
Nate had Brian across even faster, since he was smaller. They left the river’s edge and ran into a 20,000-acre swamp they knew well, the sound of pursuit on the far bank urging them on.
“Why didn’t we fight at the river?” Brian asked between gasps for air. “We could’ve gotten some of them.”
Nate didn’t answer for several minutes, concentrating instead on running. Finally, he slowed down but didn’t stop. “We could kill a few of them, but there are too many. They would just pin us down and cross the river out of our sight, then outflank us and finish us off. There’s no point in killing a few of them when it gets us killed in the end. There’s nothing left back there to fight over.”
“They burned our home,” Brian protested. “We took on that gang a year and a half ago.”
Nate shook his head, saving his breath. When he came to a large log and had to slow down, he said, “We’ll talk later. Run.”
~~~
Just after midnight, the exhausted fugitives dragged themselves into thick brush. Nate prayed the canopy of pine trees above would make it difficult for FLIR, or forward looking infrared, to detect them from the air.
Samantha was fast asleep, her head lying on Nate’s shoulder. He waited until Caroline had laid out her sleeping bag before handing Samantha to her. “I’ll take first watch,” he whispered.
Brian grabbed his shoulder. “Do you think there’re still hunting us?”
“Someone wants us dead,” Nate answered. “Yes, I think they’re still hunting us.”
Deni already had her pack off and her sleeping bag laid out. “We have to get some rest, Brian. We’ll eat something before daylight and push on.” She took a much-needed drink from her canteen.
“Then what?” Brian asked.
Nate slipped his pack off, making an effort not to make any noise. He whispered, “After making certain we’ve shaken them off our trail, we’ll go to one of our hiding places and stay there. We lost some of our supplies that we hadn’t cached in the woods yet when they burned the house and barn, but we still have more than enough to last a year, on top of what’s left at Mel’s place.”
Brian wasn’t finished. “I don’t mean to be a complainer, but it seems like every time things are looking up it gets worse than ever. I’m tired of living like this.”
“Damn it.” Nate put his hand on Brian’s shoulder. “I know. We’re all tired. Right now we have to get these killers off our trail. How long we end up hiding out here depends on what the military and others in Washington do. There’s simply no way to know what’s going to happen now. It could all be over in a few weeks. Or… well, it could get a lot worse and last years.”
Deni quickly added, “I think generals are formulating a coup right now. Whatever happened must be a big deal, and the military was already losing patience with Washington.”
“Maybe,” was all Nate said on the matter. “Everyone get some rest. I’m tired myself, and will be waking one of you to pull security in about two hours.”
~~~
Samantha cried when Caroline woke her 45 minutes before sunrise. “Shhh,” Caroline said. “If you have to cry, be quiet about it.”
Each of them ate the first thing they could grab out of their packs, and Caroline finally got Samantha to eat some crackers with blackberry jam smeared on them.
“Let’s go,” Nate whispered. “I’m sure they’re still hunting us.”
Two hours later, they came to a small opening in the swamp and Nate turned to his right to skirt around the edge. The sun was over the horizon, casting tall shadows from their side of the clearing and penetrating into the tree line on the far side. A flash of sunlight reflecting off of glass or bright metal caught Nate’s attention. “Down!” He landed on his belly, as did the others a split second later.
A staccato of gunshots assaulted their ears, and bullets ripped at the trees just above them.
“Belly crawl,” Nate yelled. The others followed him, dragging their bellies on the leaf-strewn swamp floor. Caroline had to crawl on her hands and knees because she had Samantha hanging from her neck, but she managed, despite her backpack being grazed twice by bullets and her prosthetic leg hindering her.
By the time they had crawled 20 yards, the shooting had stopped. Nate yelled, “Stay on my ass and stay low.” He jumped up and ran.
~~~
Capinos listened to the ex-CIA operative on the satellite phone. He was part of a team of killers Capinos had hired, mostly soldier-of-fortune types that would kill for money and work for anyone, but the leaders of the teams were ex-CIA. Since money wasn’t of much value at the moment, they were paid with lots of gold that might have value again someday, and food, clothing, shelter, ammo, fuel, and other items needed to survive the current conditions of the post-plague collapse.
Capinos scowled. “So you failed to complete your mission.” The man on the other end started to speak. “Oh shut up! I don’t need excuses about how they’re hiding in thick woods or any other bullshit. You men are supposed to be the best. They’re just hicks. I’m on a schedule here. And you’re running out of time. I’m running out of time. I have an important meeting in a few minutes and I expected this little matter to have been taken care of by now.” He jerked his head back in reaction to what the other man said. “Huh? Never mind why I want them dead! They may not be a threat to national security but they’ve pissed me off. Look. I w
ant them dead. If you want to keep your job, you will get this done, and soon.”
He terminated the communication and dropped into his chair behind the desk. Mentally switching gears, he regained his composure in preparation for the arrival of the entire Joint Chiefs of Staff. His request to see them all in the Oval Office was so unusual it certainly alerted the generals that the execution of a few BGs who had signed that damned petition was just the beginning and that the waiting was over. He purposely gave them all night to sweat it out and worry about what was coming. If they all showed up, he was in trouble. If none of them showed up, he was in trouble. If half showed and half were no-shows, he had a chance. It would mean they were not in solidarity. He prayed for discord among the generals.
At exactly 11 AM, his secretary announced that Army General Carl Strovenov, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, had arrived. “Alone?” Capinos asked.
The secretary answered, “Yes.”
Capinos smiled just a little but seemed to be puzzled. “Send him in.”
General Strovenov walked in wearing civilian clothes.
Capinos furrowed his brow. “This is not an informal meeting, General.”
Strovenov stood in front of the desk. “The government I swore an oath to serve no longer exists. Why should I be wearing its military’s uniform?”
Shocked by his words, Capinos cleared his throat and tried to speak but nothing intelligible came out.
Strovenov looked him in the eye. “The others will not be coming. They are busy preparing.”
“Preparing?” Capinos asked. “Preparing for what?”
“To clean up the mess you made,” was Strovenov’s answer. “There won’t be any more executions of military officers, or civilians.” He glared at Capinos. “But if your bloodlust still consumes your soul, I’m here to offer my life. Kill me or don’t kill me. Either way, elections will take place in less than six months and you will resign your office, effective noon today.” He looked at his watch. “You have 50 minutes to have me executed. After that, you will have lost your chance.”
Capinos dropped his jaw. “Do you really think you have the power to –”
Strovenov interrupted him. “I have no power at all. I expect to be dead in a few minutes. It’s the American people who have the power, and the backing of every branch of the military. You went too far and squandered your chance to be the president that led America out of its worst nightmare. You could’ve been a great icon in world history and respected above our Founding Fathers, but your ego rotted your mind and your soul. Now you’ll be despised for eternity.” He raised his empty hands in anguish. “We were doing it! In just a few short months, we were making a difference, starting the process to recovery. But you wouldn’t have it. To hell with the people and the nation, you wanted power.”
Capinos slapped a panic button, alerting Secret Service agents. His hands shook as he lifted a phone off the hook and then he dropped it when he realized it was the red phone that connected him to the Joint Chiefs of Staff. His desperate eyes lit up as he snatched the satellite phone off the desk. Two Secret Service agents burst in, Glock pistols pointing at Strovenov. Capinos motioned with his head. “Arrest him. Hold him in a room somewhere nearby.”
Strovenov made no attempt to resist. “Calling your private army will do you no good. You’ll just get more people killed needlessly. It’s over. You’re finished.”
The agents forced Strovenov out the door.
~~~
As early morning became mid-afternoon, Nate and the others lost the strength to run, and then the strength to walk fast. Still, they pushed on at three miles per hour, led only by Nate’s compass and woodsmanship skills.
Exhausted, Nate found a windfall to sit on. “Take five and have a drink.” He slipped out of his pack and reached for a canteen. “We’re paralleling the river, heading north. We’ll keep going a few miles farther and turn east to cross back over to the east side about sundown, when we still have enough light to see the moccasins and gators.”
Brian wiped at his sweaty forehead with an already sweat-soaked handkerchief. “I almost wish it was winter and cold as hell again.”
Deni tried to smile. “It’s late summer. What do you expect?”
Nate put his canteen away. “If it was winter, the trees would be bare of leaves and they could see us easier from the air.”
Deni swallowed a mouth full of water from her canteen, eyes wide. “Those hunting us on the ground could see us easier too.”
Samantha cried. She had been crying most of the day. Caroline held a canteen to her mouth. “Drink. You’re getting dehydrated.” She looked at Nate and Deni, anger creasing her face. “She’s too young for this. There’s no strength left in her little arms to hold onto my neck while I run. I’m not going to torture her any longer. I’d rather go back and kill some of the bastards while you take her out of here.”
Nate cast a glance at their back trail and mopped sweat from his forehead. “One of them is a tracker. That’s why we haven’t shaken them off our ass. Most likely it’s a two-man team. You need at least one man to stay alert for danger while the tracker keeps his eyes on the ground. They switch off every hour or so. Could be a three-man team, but I only need to kill two of them.”
Deni gripped her rifle with both hands. “Why does it always have to be you? I was a soldier only a few months ago.”
Nate coughed. “Yeah, that’s what good husbands do. Run away while their wives fight.”
Deni rolled her eyes. “That’s sexist bullshit.”
“No,” Nate said, “it’s doing the right thing.” He looked at Brian. “I want you to take them to the two islands just before the river turns sharply to the east. On the south end of the first island, the water is shallower except for the first eight feet or so. It’ll be easier for you to cross there.”
The expression on Brian’s face spoke louder than words. “I’ll get them across. But you better meet us on the other side sometime tonight. We’re not going to survive this without you.”
His determination coming to the surface, Nate said, “I’ll be there. I expect it’s spooks on our trail. I’m not going to let any CIA spooks get the best of me.”
“Is that Army pride or something?” Deni asked.
Nate looked around, trying to penetrate the wall of green that encircled them. “More like rage. They shot at us and burned us out. They’re trying to kill my wife, my son, and my friend, not to mention a little girl.” He stood and slipped into his pack. “Take off. Sunlight’s burning.”
Thunder rumbled in the distance. Brian looked at the western sky. “That rain comes our way, they won’t be tracking us anymore until tomorrow. We’ll be on the other side of the river by then.” He looked at his father with hope in his eyes. “Maybe you don’t have to go back and fight them.”
Nate saw Deni’s reaction and froze for a second. “Oh hell, I’m not exactly jumping at a chance to get shot at. We’ll go on a few miles farther. But if rain doesn’t wash away our trail soon, you’ll be going on to the river without me.”
~~~
The slight breeze that had been too weak to cool them, invigorated by the coming thunderstorm, gradually shook off its lethargy, setting the woods to motion and making it more difficult to spot movement. Nate worried they were moving too fast and could walk into an ambush, but they were being pressed by their pursuers to push on. Each second, each step torturous, Nate balanced the need for speed with the need for caution and tried to ignore the crawling of his skin from nervous tension. He wished he had sent them on without him, but realized if the killers had split up and sent a group ahead to set up an ambush, the results would be worse if he were not with them. They would want to take him out first, and that might give the others a chance to get out of the kill zone, where life expectancy would be measured in seconds. He shivered in the heat and pressed on, turning more to the east. He thought it best not to travel in the same direction too long, to make it more difficult for the killers to se
t up that ambush he feared so much.
By noon, clouds that had rolled in earlier grew high and deep under the energy of the sun. The humid air was so heavy with moisture rain became inevitable. When it finally came, it arrived with full force, in a torrent, but stopped after a few minutes. A surge of wind, mixing hot air with cool, came down from the blue-black sky and swept down on them without warning. The roar of a soaking downpour rolled across the swampland in an advancing wall of rain. In seconds, they were soaked. The crack of lightning bolts and thunder added to the violence of the tempest.
Bullfrogs croaked in the swamp. More thunder from distant storms hung in the heavy air for a moment before being overwhelmed by the clap of thunder from jagged bolts of lightning above them.
Samantha’s cries grew louder with each lightning strike. Nate stopped and motioned for them to gather around him. He yanked his pack off and produced a poncho from a side pocket. While he unrolled it, he said, “Deni. Brian. Help me hold this over Caroline and Samantha so Caroline can get her into something dry before she chills too much. Afterwards, she can use the poncho to keep Samantha from getting wet and cold again.”
After Caroline and Samantha were finished and the little girl was warm and dry in the poncho, her little face almost invisible in the shade of the hood and several times too long for her, they moved on. None of the adults wanted to don their ponchos, preferring to enjoy the cold rain and wind, as well as the shower. It felt good not to be soaked with sweat and swamp filth. Besides, a poncho would hinder their ability to run and get at their weapons and ammo magazines.
Nate carried Samantha a while. She was too big for carrying and too small to keep up with them. There was no way she could walk with the oversize poncho on, anyway. Not long after the first storm passed another one hit with equal force. The heavy overcast made the swamp under the canopy of trees almost as dark as night. The closer they got to the river, the wetter it was, and they were forced to go around flooded low areas. It was then Nate realized the rain was coming so fast, the river would be rising by the time they got to the islands. A windfall was nearby. So he walked to it and sat down. The log was soggy but hadn’t rotted yet and was still solid. He motioned for the others to sit beside him.