by Kenny Soward
Sara spun in her seat, finding the owner of the voice sitting at the kitchen table with her hands wrapped around a cup. She was barely discernible in the dim light with her long chestnut hair falling over her shoulders.
“Barbara?” Sara asked, sounding more annoyed than she’d intended.
“I’m sorry, Missus Walton.” The young woman’s accent had a mountain twang to it. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“You didn’t frighten me,” Sara said, standing up quickly and placing her hands on her hips. “I’m just not sure I like the idea of a complete stranger staring at me while I sleep.”
“I wasn’t staring at you,” Barbara replied, tersely. “I was just feeling restless about an hour ago and decided to come down.”
“You didn’t sleep in Todd’s bed with him, did you?”
Todd had to know Sara would never allow a young woman to sleep with him in his bed. Not at his age, and not in Sara’s house. The thought had crossed her mind earlier, though at the time she’d been too weary from blood loss and exhaustion to check on them. Now her concern came roaring back.
“Oh, no, ma’am,” Barbara replied, taken aback at the suggestion. “I slept on the floor upstairs.”
“You slept on the floor?”
“Yes, ma’am. I tried the chair at first, but it was awkward. I didn’t want to end up with a crick in my neck, if you know what I mean.” The young woman made a face in the shadows and raised her hand to rub the side of her neck. “Seems like the floor got me anyway.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sara replied, her suspicions fading away.
“It’s okay. It’ll go away in a couple of days.”
“If I’d known, I would have offered you Zoe’s bed.” Sara twisted her lips in thought. “Well, I guess I knew you were here, but I was too tired to show you any hospitality at the time. Sorry about that, and I appreciate you respecting my home.”
“Of course,” Barbara said without smiling. “Can I get you anything? Natasha said we need to pump you full of fluids.”
“A glass of water would be fine.”
“I’m on it.” Barbara stood up and went to the counter, drawing down a glass from the cupboard and filling it from the big plastic water jug tap.
Sara studied the girl as she went about the simple chore, impressed at her height. She would need to recalculate her previous estimation that Barb was six feet tall. Add an inch to that, and she wasn’t even wearing her boots.
“You’re a tall girl.” Sara walked over and sat down at the kitchen table.
“My mama was tall, too.” The young woman placed the glass down in front of Sara and then retook her seat opposite her, maintaining a firm and serious expression.
Sara noted the young woman had said “was” in reference to her mother, so she steered away from any follow-up questions on that subject. “Are you into sports?”
“I play for Gatlinburg-Pittman. Volleyball.”
“Oh, good. Are you looking forward to this coming semester? I assume you’ll be a junior or senior.”
Barbara stared at Sara for a moment before she replied. “I doubt there will be a semester, although you’re right. I’ll be a senior this year.”
“Well, I meant when all this is over and things get back to normal.”
“I suppose I’ll worry about school when the time comes. If it comes.”
Sara took a sip from her glass of water and took the opportunity to study the girl more. Something wasn’t right about her. She was tall and stoic. Polite, too. None of those attributes were crimes. So, what was it about her that seemed so strange? As Sara set her glass back down and looked away, it dawned on her. Barbara hadn’t smiled a single time since she’d been around. Not even when they’d arrived safely at the cabin and taken Todd upstairs. Granted, Barbara barely knew anyone here, so maybe she just needed to warm up to Sara.
“Sometimes I forget how dangerous things are getting around here,” Sara said. “It seems like the world is falling apart.”
Barbara only stared down at her cup.
“Did Tash make that for you? Is that her tea?”
“She said it was the last of it,” Barbara responded. “I told her not to waste it on me, but she insisted. I don’t think she wanted to face the fact that it was going to be her last cup.”
“Goodbyes are hard,” Sara quipped, glancing up to see Barbara nod without the hint of a smile. She looked around the cabin. “Where is everyone?”
Barbara glanced over her shoulder at the deck door. “Natasha took Zoe outside to look down at the valley with the binoculars. The girl seems to like it.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. All that flooding down there seemed a bit depressing, and I guess I didn’t want to look at it.”
“You have a great view from up here, Missus Walton. I don’t blame them for wanting to look down over it all.”
“You can call me Sara.”
“All right, Sara.”
Sara expected the girl to tell her to call her “Barb,” although she didn’t. She only sat there sipping her tea, lost in thought.
“I appreciate you taking care of my son,” Sara said in a hopeful tone. “Did you meet him when he joined the Good Folk?”
“I wouldn’t say Todd’s one of the Good Folk.” Barbara lifted her dark eyes to Sara. “He shows a lot of potential. He’s a decent shot, and he doesn’t wilt under pressure.”
Sara’s jaw dropped open a little, and she found herself speechless at Barbara’s remarks. That this young woman, not much older than Todd, would simplify her son down to “a decent shot” and “does not wilt under pressure” did not sit well with her.
Seeing Sara’s expression, Barbara quickly corrected herself. “Don’t get me wrong, Missus…Sara. Todd’s great to have around, and he’s more than willing to get his hands dirty.”
“But?”
“But he doesn’t know much about the area, and up here in the mountains that’s the biggest advantage we have.”
Sara nodded her head slowly in understanding. Barbara was just being practical and saw Todd’s skills for what they were, while Sara had a fierce defensiveness regarding her son that made her opinion somewhat biased. “We’re not from around here,” Sara agreed. “And to be honest, I think Todd was just out to prove something to himself, and to his father, who isn’t even here. I was mad when he ran off. I wanted him here with his family, where he belonged.”
Barbara accepted Sara’s response without comment, and Sara allowed herself to sit in the uncomfortable silence before she continued. “Is one of the Good Folk going to come pick you up? I mean, do you have a ride?”
Barbara looked toward the door and shrugged. “I’m sure they’ll come looking for me soon, although I didn’t leave them any breadcrumbs. We’re down to two-way radios, so it’s not like I can text someone.” The young woman’s tone was humorless and stark. “I’d say no more than two days.”
“All right. You’re welcome to some meals while you’re here as well.”
“Thank you, Sara. And don’t worry about Todd. I’ll see to him, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.” Sara fixed the girl with a firm look. “Since we’re clear on the rules about sleeping in Todd’s bed, we’ll set you up with one of our camping mats. It’s about three inches thick. Add some blankets, and you should be comfortable.”
“That sounds good. Thank you.”
“Great,” Sara said, standing up. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten?”
“If you count the Snickers I ate yesterday—”
Sara let out a sigh. “I’m not counting that. I’m talking about a real meal.”
Barbara thought about it for a moment before she gave Sara a flat look. “Can’t remember.”
“I’ll go out and see what Natasha wants to have for dinner. She’s been rationing our food stores, however, I’m sure we can part with some of the good stuff for one night.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
Sara nod
ded and then went to the back door, opened it, and stepped onto the deck to the sound of her daughter’s singsong voice. “Hi, Mom! These binoculars are cool!”
Chapter 9
Somewhere in Tennessee
Yi’s eyes narrowed as a woman’s howl burst from the office and sent a chill up his spine. It was an unnatural sound, an inhuman one, and it disturbed Yi in a way he didn’t quite understand. Certainly, Yi and his warriors had done their share of killing, sometimes brutally, though it had all been for the benefit of the New Block. For the benefit of the millions of people who had suffered at the hands of American imperialism for decades.
This torture was nothing but self-indulgence with no real reason to carry it out except for the blind suffering of their victims. While Yi certainly wished death upon every American, he had enough honor to make it quick and meaningful. If for no other reason, to strike fear into the hearts of anyone who thought to oppose the wrath of the dragon.
The Ukrainian agent, Katrya Rusak, had no such compunctions. She and her soldiers had begun torturing the lodge family several hours ago, yet their screams still echoed through the wood-paneled home. Yi had excused himself from the activity almost immediately, although the big Russian, Ivan, had remained for an hour before he joined Yi on the covered back patio, claiming boredom with the whole thing.
Yi sat in a cushioned lawn chair looking up at the side of the mountain and its forest of hardwood trees. The wind had picked up, turning an average view into a spectacle of waving branches that drove home the beauty of the place. He raised a can of Coca-Cola to his lips and took a sip, swishing the sugary liquid around in his mouth before swallowing it. He felt caught between hating the beverage and liking it immensely. He’d enjoyed it as a child, although he had later grown to hate all things American after being shown the evil of their ways.
“When do you think we’ll receive our orders?” Ivan asked. He sat in a chair like Yi’s with his legs stretched out in front of him and his head resting back. His flattop haircut still had specks of blood in it, and his gray eyes stared up at the timber-framed patio roof. Chen and the remaining three dragon warriors sat nearby, also enjoying the cool beverages they’d found in the refrigerator working thanks to a generator puttering away on the side of the house.
“I don’t know,” Yi said in an impatient tone. Then, hearing another terrible wail from inside the office, he stood up and stepped over to the patio door. “But I’m going to find out.”
He pulled open the door and went inside, making a direct line to the kitchen while trying to ignore the sobbing, pleading woman and Katrya’s cackling laughter. Yi had no idea if the husband was alive or dead, though he’d not heard the man’s hoarse shouts for some time. While Yi hadn’t understood every word, he was pretty sure the man had been begging for his family’s lives.
That was not Yi’s concern. He was more interested in speaking with the communications officer, Alina. The thin, blonde-haired woman looked bookish in her glasses with her pulled-back hair and perpetual frown. However, her form-fitting military outfit and the pistol strapped to her waist gave her a markedly more sinister appearance.
Alina was a Polish woman who had once been a technical security analyst for a prominent global product company until the New Block had recruited her. That was all Yi had gotten out of her in the few minutes they’d spoken. Alina oversaw the Box, a miraculous computer device that performed the team’s communications and analysis functions. There were compartments in the side where Alina could analyze biomaterial and metals, and the computer could probably do many other things, too.
While he wouldn’t say they were friends, at least Alina wasn’t in the office with the others torturing that family, and she seemed amicable enough to Yi.
He approached the kitchen table where Alina was sitting in front of the black box, pounding away on the keyboard with her face illuminated by the screen’s ghostly light. She had a small digital music player sitting on the table next to her and white earbuds stuck into her ears.
The woman didn’t notice Yi at first, so he placed his rifle on the kitchen’s breakfast bar and came back to the table, placing both hands close to the Box and leaning in obtrusively.
Alina startled back in her chair, quickly pulling the earbuds out with an apologetic expression. “Sorry, comrade. I was listening to music, perhaps a bit too loud.”
“Do you always listen to music while you work?”
Alina glanced over to the office with a wary look in her eyes. “It helps me to think.”
“I understand,” Yi said, following her glance. “If it makes you feel any better, I do not like listening to that torture either.”
Alina’s frown lifted for a moment, and Yi caught a hint of relief in her eyes. “Can I help you with something?”
“I’ve grown bored waiting for our next mission, so naturally I’m curious about the device you are working on.” Yi gestured at the Box. It was the size of an old-style computer except far more advanced looking. Its carrying case was about the size of a medium-sized suitcase, and Alina used it as a footrest. “What, exactly, is it?”
Alina looked around, clearly uncomfortable with discussing the high-tech device.
“Don’t worry,” Yi said with a grin. “I won’t tell Katrya that you entertained my curiosity. I already know you use it to communicate with our base of command, and that these compartments on the side allow you to analyze fluids and metals. What else does it do?”
“It has powerful antennae that allow it to communicate across multiple bands, sometimes utilizing multiple modes at the same time.”
“As long as there is a satellite in the sky or a cellular tower nearby, you can connect to a larger network,” Yi nodded in understanding.
“We can also use shortwave bands as well.” Alina’s tone held a hint of pride, then her eyes glinted with mirth. “Or connect to other, more secret bands which can be hacked.”
“Ah, very good. And you do the hacking?”
“That is correct. I—”
The woman’s wail tore from the office, crashing into Yi’s ears and causing his shoulders to tense up. The terrible sound rose to a crescendo, vibrating with more than just physical pain. It had to be the mother, and her voice contained all the misery of losing her family and the life they’d had before Katrya and her minions had stumbled across them. The wail trailed off into a feeble, miserable whimper as she realized her own life was coming to an end.
Yi did not think he would hear the woman again.
He peered over Alina’s shoulder to distract himself with what was on the screen. It appeared to be lines of computer code written in a syntax he could not possibly understand, except for one thing.
“I see it is written in English,” Yi pointed out in a hoarse voice. “Don’t you find it ironic that you are using our enemy’s first language to hack into their systems?”
“English is a universal language,” Alina said, then she explained further. “The New Block could not settle on a dialect of Chinese, or a European language, for official communications. So, they chose the universal language of business, which is English. It is easy to learn, and I like it because of its flexibility with modern technical terms.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Gamer language,” Alina’s eyes narrowed as she searched for the right words. “Slang.”
“Ah, I understand now,” Yi said, and he honestly did. “So, you hack into the enemy’s networks?”
“That is correct.” Alina’s face turned back to the screen for a moment. “They have special military and governmental bands, and I am able to access much of it.” She looked up at Yi with a mischievous expression, her lips forming a smile for the first time. “I know where their president is at this exact moment. They have moved him from—”
The office doors flew open and slammed backwards against the wall. Yi’s head jerked around, and he saw several of Katrya’s soldiers exiting the room followed by the doctor, Boris, who wiped blood off his h
ands with a pristine white towel. His combat suit was zipped down, and a fine sheen of sweat coated his frail-looking chest and forehead. He appeared disheveled, his weasel-like eyes tired yet somehow satisfied.
The doctor stared at Yi through a pair of thin, blood-spattered spectacles, sending a ripple of disgust up Yi’s spine. Yi cringed to think that this man was looking after his Jiao, but at least they were on the same side. Besides, he doubted the doctor would abuse the young warrior. If he tried, Jiao would give him a bullet for his troubles.
Katrya followed them all, walking on wobbly legs with blood smeared up her arms and across her face. Her eyes had a distant, pleased look that disturbed Yi, and for a moment he thought she could not possibly be the Red Blade of legend, rather some maniacal twin. Then again, he’d heard rumors of Katrya’s ruthlessness, even though no one had told him she enjoyed torturing people.
The Ukrainian operative allowed her hand to trail along the wall outside of the office, smearing blood along the front of a glass case holding a United States flag inside it. Her eyes lingered on the flag a moment before she turned her attention to Yi and smiled wickedly.
Yi’s patience was coming to an end, and he was about to say something to Katrya when Alina interrupted him.
“Comrade, look. We are receiving a message from base command.”
Katrya instantly forgotten, Yi snapped his attention to the Box screen as information flowed down it in monochromatic text.
“What does it say?”
“It’s our new orders,” Alina’s eyes pored over the flowing text. “Base Camp to Red Camp. Mission instructions to follow. Level critical.”
Yi leaned closer to the screen. “Let’s see what they have for us.”
Chapter 10
Sara, Gatlinburg, Tennessee | 10:45 p.m., Thursday
“That was really great,” Barbara said as she lifted a napkin to her lips and wiped the corners of her mouth. “Best thing I’ve eaten in weeks.”
“Freeze-dried chicken and fried rice aren’t so bad, right?” Natasha seemed pleased with herself.