Trackers 4: The Damned (A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Series)

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Trackers 4: The Damned (A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Series) Page 3

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith


  “Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but I have an update on the Chinese fleet,” he said. “The first ships will be here in the next twenty-four hours, and are landing at twelve different ports on the east coast.”

  “Good,” she said. “Are the ports prepared?”

  “Our troops are deployed and ready to accompany the Chinese as soon as they arrive. General Thor just set up our first meeting with General Ken Lin, who will be leading the Chinese recovery efforts. I’m headed to Fort Lauderdale tomorrow to meet with the general and the Chinese delegation.”

  “Let’s hope they can get those supplies and equipment moving,” she said. The FEMA administrator seemed up to the task, but there were still a million things that could go wrong. “I’ll stop by Command when I’m done here to discuss it in more detail.”

  “Sounds good, ma’am.”

  Charlize returned to Albert’s bedside. Ty looked up at her, his curious gaze signaling an imminent question.

  “Are the Chinese the good people or the bad people?” he asked.

  For a second, Charlize wasn’t sure how to respond. She still wasn’t convinced the Chinese had nothing to do with the initial attack, but there was no doubt they could have done more to stop North Korea from developing their nuclear program over the years. She didn’t exactly blame them for the war, but she also didn’t trust them.

  “We’re going to find out soon,” she said. What she didn’t say was that she would be going with Colonel Raymond tomorrow to meet with General Lin.”

  _____

  Engines roared, mufflers choked, and metal frames rattled over the asphalt as the armada of vehicles moved out. The scent of gasoline and exhaust filled the air. General Dan Fenix loved it. It was American, and he would continue fighting for this great nation until the day he died. Fortunately, he had just found a way to prolong his life.

  All he had to do was kill Raven Spears and capture the town of Estes Park, and hand over a shit-ton of guns and gold.

  Fenix wasn’t going to do it alone. In just under an hour, he was going to meet up with the Sons of Liberty. Sergeant Zach Horton had taken charge of the other divisions, and was on his way, with the rest of their brothers, to the rally point.

  But Fenix understood Nile Redford wasn’t an idiot. He probably knew the rendezvous could be a setup, which is why he had ordered Fenix to remain in cuffs and have a gun pointed at his head for the meeting.

  The Sons of Liberty were the best of the best. Experienced men. Hard men. Many of them with time in the suck. Men with shaved heads and cold hearts. Not wannabee neo-Nazis. Real neo-Nazis. The fucking SS would have been proud to fight with these men.

  Sitting next to Fenix was Nile Redford’s version of a hard man. Hacker, the guy with the duty belt full of fancy torture devices. The cliché made Fenix want to laugh, but he held it in. He would have plenty of time for laughing later.

  “Your men better come through,” Hacker said, shooting a glance at Fenix. “And the loot you claim to have better be real, or I’m going to cut your balls off.”

  “I’m a man of my word,” Fenix said.

  Hacker shifted his linebacker shoulders back and pulled his duty belt up over his gut. “Yeah, we’ll see.”

  “The rendezvous is just ahead,” the driver of the Jeep said. Fenix had heard Hacker call him Jade. A red bandana held back the American Indian man’s thick black hair. He looked in the rearview mirror and scowled at Fenix.

  Redford’s cousin Theo turned from the passenger seat. He wore a black pinstripe suit and cowboy hat. For some reason, both Theo and Redford wanted to look like old-school mobsters, but Fenix just thought they looked silly.

  “Your men better be here, and they better be unarmed,” Theo said. His eyes flitted to Hacker. “If this Nazi prick makes any sudden moves, you put a round between his eyes, got it?”

  “With pleasure, man.”

  Fenix didn’t feel much like grinning anymore. Now he was just mad.

  “Maybe I’ll take care of him,” Theo said, pulling out a shiny .357 Magnum with a long barrel.

  Deliberately ignoring the wannabe mobster, Fenix turned to watch the snow-brushed pines pass alongside the road as the small fleet of trucks climbed up a narrow pass. They were somewhere on the western side of the Rocky Mountains, but he didn’t know the exact location.

  “We’re here,” Theo said a few minutes later. He pointed at the roofs of several cabins protruding from the trees on the right side of the road.

  Hacker opened his door and came around to let Fenix out of the Jeep. Theo had the barrel of the .357 Magnum pointed at Fenix’s face the moment his boots hit the gravel.

  “Don’t think I won’t blow your backward-thinking brains out,” Theo said. “I don’t care what Nile says. You’re nothing but a dumb Nazi prick.”

  Fenix started walking up the trail, breathing in the crisp cold air. Not exactly the taste of freedom, but it was better than the cell back at Redford’s underground gambling compound.

  The hunting camp was comprised of five cabins with boarded-up windows, crooked gutters, and rotting decks. It looked like it hadn’t gotten any use for a while. He didn’t see any sign of his brothers, but he trusted the Sons of Liberty to be here.

  “Horton!” Fenix yelled. “You out there?”

  Behind him, twenty of Redford’s men fanned out with automatic rifles. Jade slipped into the woods, no doubt to search the area for an ambush, his red bandana vanishing among the trees.

  “Where is everyone?” Hacker asked.

  Theo pulled the hammer back on the revolver. “Call out again,” he said. “Horton!” Fenix repeated, his voice echoing through the woods. A bird cried in the distance, and a small animal moved in the foliage.

  The door of the second cabin to the right swung open, and a man walked out carrying two duffel bags. Every gun angled at the figure.

  “General,” the man called in a rough voice.

  Fenix grinned. It was Horton. No one else he knew sounded like a sixty-year-old chain smoker at the age of forty-five. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, you old bastard,” Fenix said.

  “Good to see you’re well, sir,” Horton continued. He walked out of the shade from the pine trees and scanned the men pointing guns at him.

  “Put the bags down,” Theo said.

  “No need for hostility,” Horton said, setting the duffel bags down gently and raising his hands. “I’m unarmed, as instructed. I’m just here to talk to General Fenix and deliver the first batch of gold. The weapons are a mile away.”

  Theo dug the barrel of the .357 Magnum into the back of Fenix’s head. “Watch it,” Fenix growled.

  “All clear out here,” Jade called as he returned from the woods. “No sign of an ambush, snipers, or anything else.”

  “It’s just me, like I said,” Horton replied.

  Well, that’s unfortunate, Fenix thought. He had hoped this was an ambush, but maybe Horton had taken his orders over the radio literally.

  Theo gestured toward the bags. Hacker grabbed them and began digging through the contents.

  “Looks like the half we were promised,” Hacker said.

  “Excellent,” Theo said.

  Fenix took a few steps toward his second in command, Theo following him with the gun. Horton lowered his hands and clapped Fenix on the shoulder.

  “Watch it,” Theo said.

  “Easy, man,” Horton said. As he brought his hand away from Fenix’s shoulder, he dropped something into Fenix’s coat pocket.

  Maybe Fenix was wrong‌—‌maybe Horton did have a plan that didn’t end up with him back in the prison cell. He wasn’t sure what the hell was in his pocket, and he couldn’t look right now.

  “As you know, the Sons of Liberty have entered into an agreement with Redford‌—‌” Fenix began to say.

  “Mr. Nile Redford,” Theo corrected.

  “Right,” Fenix said. He focused on Horton. “Have you finished the recon of Estes Park?”

  “Yes, sir. Our men hav
e identified nine roadblocks with at least fifty men and women holding them. Another thirty or so people are armed within the city limits. They’ve got a surprising amount of firepower, and are well organized.”

  “So they have a militia...smart. Really smart.”

  “I’m confident we can take the town. The question is, at what cost?”

  “Far as I’m concerned, the more dead Nazis the better,” Theo said.

  Horton’s eyes flitted to the redskin, but Fenix subtly shook his head.

  “If you just want us to get this Raven Spears, that’s another story,” Horton continued.

  “That’s not the deal,” Theo said. “Mr. Redford wants you to secure the supplies the government dropped off there after our first raid. In order to do that, you’re going to need to take out their soldiers.”

  “Should I run this by Mr. Redford?” Hacker asked. Theo hesitated, then nodded. Hacker turned on a radio, static crackling. “Mr. Redford, do you copy? Over.”

  A few seconds later, the man’s voice rang from the speakers. “Go ahead.”

  “We have the first half of the gold, but Estes Park is much better defended than when we raided them last.”

  “Let me talk to Fenix,” Redford replied.

  Hacker walked over and pushed the radio up so Fenix could speak into it.

  “I’m here,” he said.

  “It’s your lucky day,” Redford said. “I just got word from an old friend that the Sheriff of Fort Collins has claimed Estes Park as part of their expanding territory. For now, tell your men to stand down. Just bring me the gold and weapons.”

  Horton clenched his jaw, a mannerism that told Fenix he was considering making a move.

  Theo pushed the gun back to Fenix’s skull. “Back to the Jeep,” he said.

  “Where are you taking him?” Horton asked.

  “None of your business,” Theo said.

  Horton snorted. “You better watch it, mother‌—‌”

  “Everyone stay calm,” Fenix said. “Sergeant, I’ll be in touch.”

  Horton’s eyes shifted from Theo to Fenix. “Yes, sir,” he finally said.

  Theo snorted. “That’s what I fucking thought.” He jerked his chin at Fenix. “Let’s go, you old dog.”

  3

  “SOME OF THE refugees spotted men in camouflage on the southern border of town, near the cabins where we put them up,” Lindsey said. “I sent out our scouts, but they didn’t find anyone.”

  Raven looked up from the map of the valley. “Men in camo? Could they have been refugees scoping us out?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I was told these guys looked like soldiers.”

  “Not American military. They wouldn’t be scoping us out. They’d just walk into town and tell us what they want,” Raven said. “Who told you this?”

  “Jennie.”

  “Who?”

  “The lady who came in with the last round of refugees. We put her and a bunch of other people up in those old run-down cabins south of Beaver Meadows. She’s been watching the area like a hawk.”

  Raven ran a hand over his five o’clock shadow, trying to make his tired brain work.

  “It could be a false alarm, but I think we should shift some of our guns to Highway 7 just in case.” Lindsey pointed to the roadblocks on the map.

  Raven handed her the red marker. “Take over for me, I need a smoke.”

  She grabbed the pen and took a seat at the table. Raven left the conference room. The Estes Park police station was jam-packed with militia members and newly deputized officers who had just come off their shift. Most of them were filling out paperwork, but a few eyes flitted toward him as he made his way through the halls.

  Chaos had reigned for the first few days after Colton didn’t return from Fort Collins, but Lindsey now had the place operating like a well-oiled machine. Everyone had a duty, and a gun. The location of every weapon and every bullet was kept in a ledger that was updated daily. Just like the food and medicine supplies. Everything was accounted for and rationed in Estes Park. It was the only way they were going to last the winter.

  Only a few people knew where they had stored the majority of their supplies, and Raven planned on keeping it that way. No one would find it unless there was an internal leak. After what happened with Sergeant Aragon and Officer Hines, he didn’t trust anyone except Lindsey. She was running a tightly-managed ship, and Raven was helping her do it.

  He just wished Creek was here to help too. The dog was back at the Medical Center, resting and healing. Hopefully, in a few days, his furry best friend would be back on his feet, but for now the dog needed to remain under the watchful eye of his sister.

  “Evenin’,” Raven said to Margaret on the way out of the building. The dispatcher sat at the front desk, watching the radio like a soldier on nuclear missile duty waiting for the fateful order. She raised a hand in an informal salute.

  Raven shouldered the door open and rolled a cigarette. Stepping into the chilly afternoon, he jammed it between his lips and struck a match. He twirled his buck knife while he smoked, an old habit from his days in the Corps. It kept his hands busy so his mind could work. If the report of people watching the town was true, then there were more enemies encroaching on Estes Park.

  Several citizens were walking down Elkhorn Avenue. The once-bright shops selling coffee, t-shirts, pizza, and cookies were all dark. Several of the windows were even boarded up.

  “That’s pretty neat, mister.”

  Raven stopped spinning his knife and looked down at a girl standing nearby. A colorful stocking cap was pulled over her braided hair.

  “Jeez, kid. You scared me,” Raven said. “Shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”

  She stepped forward, a grin on her face. “Will you teach me to do that?”

  Raven lowered the cigarette. He studied her for a second, seeing the determination in her posture‌—‌arms folded across her chest, hardened features.

  “Smoking’s bad for you,” he said.

  “Not smoke,” she clarified. “I mean the thing with your knife.”

  “Oh, and no.” Raven put the knife back into the sheath. “Shouldn’t you be at home?”

  “I’m here to help.” She gave him a stern look. “I’m here to fight.”

  Raven raised a brow. “Where are your parents?”

  “Dead.” Her words were unemotional. But Raven could tell she was just suppressing the pain. He used to do the same thing when he was her age.

  “I’m sorry.” Raven remembered her now. She had come in with the last group of refugees.

  “So you going to teach me to do that, or what?” she said, still determined.

  “The knife is too big for you, sorry. Bet you’ve never even used one.”

  A cocky grin cracked her face. She was probably only ten years old, not much older than Allie or Colton’s little girl.

  “Of course I have. But I want to know how to twirl one like you.” She reached out and gestured with her fingers.

  Raven smiled, and then took another hit on his cigarette and moved toward the door. “Find me later and maybe I’ll teach you, okay?”

  “Okay.” She pulled her stocking cap down over her eyebrows and took a step forward, clearly trying to follow him inside.

  Was this what it was coming down to? Children joining the ranks of the militia. A little over a month had passed since the bombs fell, but it already felt like the past was a whole different world.

  Raven swallowed hard. He was one of the last barriers standing between the innocent people of Estes Park‌—‌and the wolves that were coming. It was just a matter of time.

  “You can’t come with me,” he said firmly. He took a final drag of his cigarette, and then stomped it under his boot.

  The girl remained in the lobby of town hall while he continued to the conference room. Lindsey was drawing circles on the map at the table. Officer Tom Matthew, Detective Tim Ryburn, and ten other members of the militia were gathered arou
nd her. They looked in his direction but remained silent.

  These were the best Estes Park had to offer, men and women that Raven and Lindsey had personally vetted when gathering the force needed to save their small town. Some were retired soldiers, like Dale Jackson and Todd Sanders. There were also a few cops, including Todd’s wife, Susan.”

  “You ready now, Sam?” Lindsey asked, not even looking up.

  “I thought Kirkus and his men were coming,” Raven replied. “They here yet?”

  “Nope. He’s late.”

  Raven checked his watch. It was easy to lose track of time with the power off, and he saw she was right. Kirkus was half an hour late.

  “You know who that girl is with the hat?” he asked

  “What girl?” Lindsey asked, finally looking up.

  “The refugee kid with a rainbow stocking cap. Asks a whole bunch of questions.”

  “Oh, Sarah? She’s a firebrand.”

  “She’s also ten years old!” Raven shook his head. “We can’t just have kids running around town like that. We could have another hundred Melissa Stones if we don’t do a better job protecting our children.”

  Lindsey let out a sigh. “Raven, I totally agree with you, but I can’t exactly keep tabs on everyone. Hell, I can hardly keep tabs on you.”

  “I’m not ten years old, and that ain’t funny.”

  There were several chuckles from around the room, but Raven shook them off.

  “I’ll have my sister look after her, then,” he said.

  Dale Jackson spoke up. “I can put her and some of those other refugee kids to work at my place. Keep ‘em out of trouble. Need help with my livestock. They’d be safe there.”

  Lindsey and Raven exchanged a look. “I’m fine with it,” she said. “Long as you got the time.”

  Dale shrugged. “Nothin’ better to do now that the cable’s out. Man, I miss TV.”

  The door creaked open, and Mayor Gail Andrews stepped inside with Administrator Tom Feagen.

  “Detective Plymouth,” she said.

  Lindsey gave the mayor a tight nod. Tensions had been high since the night Aragon and Hines tried to kill Raven and Lindsey. Now that Colton was gone, Lindsey and the mayor had been at major odds. Still, they needed to work with the elected officials, or they would lose the trust of the town. Raven could live with Gail breathing down his neck, but Feagen was beyond annoying. The guy had lived a sheltered life, and knew nothing about protecting people or infrastructure.

 

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