“In my dream, I was there, you and Daddy, even Luke, but . . .” Haley grew quiet.
“But what?”
“Uncle Sebastian, he wasn’t there. Something bad happened to him.”
“Your Uncle Sebastian will be fine,” Samantha said, assuring her.
“Why do you and Daddy lie to me?”
“Why would you say that?”
“I know there are bad people. I know bad people killed Hunter. You tell me all the time that things will be fine, but I hear you and Daddy talking.”
Her comment hit Samantha hard. It was the struggle of parents everywhere: You try to protect your children, but they are always listening.
“Do you believe Daddy and me when we tell you we’ll do whatever we can to protect you?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now finish your soup before Luke comes back.” Samantha kissed her on the head and stood up to leave.
“Mommy?”
“Yes?”
“I know you and Daddy will always protect me. But Daddy won’t be able to protect Uncle Sebastian.”
Banks, Idaho
The huge flames from what had been the Bear Valley Outfitters warmed Schmidt’s face. As each flame danced and licked the remnants of the local landmark, Schmidt’s message to the town was loud and clear.
The sun would soon be dipping below the mountains to the west. He thought about the call from Gordon and laughed to himself. He knew he held all the cards. Family ran deep in most people, and given that, he’d soon be able to exact the revenge he so dearly wanted against the man who had killed his friend.
His patience was growing thin. He didn’t want to camp; he knew he could make it to the valley by twilight. Once in Round Valley, he and his forces would be in a better location to protect themselves.
“Corporal Cast, contact all units. Let’s fire this up, we’re headed north!”
“Roger that, sir.”
“Have our forward elements move into the valley and scout a position to camp for the night.”
“Sir, we haven’t heard back from them.”
This news alarmed Schmidt, who barked, “Where were they last contacted?”
“Here, sir, at this bridge,” Cast answered, pointing at a spot on a map.
“When did you speak to them last?”
“Not twenty minutes ago, but I requested they’d check in every ten.”
“Are you sure it’s been that long?”
“Yes, sir, it was the same time you were on the sat phone.”
Schmidt was never a believer in coincidence. In the pit of his stomach, he knew his foolish threats to scare and intimidate Gordon had only alerted him to his advance. The highway they were on was narrow and a perfect place to ambush someone. His army was vulnerable until they could reach the open valley. If he were Gordon, he’d lay in wait for them, but then again, attacking them would jeopardize his brother. Confusion about how to move came over him.
“Let me see the map,” he ordered. Snatching it, he studied it until he found where they were. “Where was the last known location of our forward patrols?”
“Right there.”
The Rainbow Bridge was a perfect location to conduct an ambush; it was narrow and both the entrance and exit of the bridge were followed by sharp turns. He looked at the topographical lines and saw that a cliff would be to their left and the river would be to their right.
The only way for him to call this ambush was to knowingly place Sebastian in the front and let Gordon know he would be there; this would tell him if they were heading into something.
He examined the map closer and saw another route into the valley. He didn’t like the idea of splitting up his forces but he should at least explore it.
“Corporal, radio the company commanders. I want Alpha and Bravo to break off here,” he said, pointing at a small bridge in Smith’s Ferry. “Tell them to take this route; we’ll all meet up here in this valley. The rest of us are heading to the Rainbow Bridge.”
“Yes, sir,” Corporal Cast said as he picked up the handset and began to contact company commanders.
While his orders were being passed down, he would set up his rendezvous with Gordon. He pulled out the phone, pressed the green talk button, and waited for Gordon to answer.
Rainbow Bridge, Idaho
Gordon had just settled into his seat for the ride south to recon Schmidt’s position when his phone rang. He pulled it out of his trouser pocket and quickly answered it.
“Yes.”
“You’re at the bridge, aren’t you?”
Gordon motioned for Jones to stop before he answered Schmidt’s question.
“I have your brother and I don’t have any qualms about killing him,” Schmidt continued.
“I’m not at the bridge.”
“Bullshit! This conversation is over.”
“Hold on, don’t hang up,” Gordon pleaded, his defiant tone changing quickly.
“You want to meet? Let’s meet.”
“How do I know you have my brother?”
No response. Gordon could hear the sound of gravel and unintelligible sounds, then Schmidt’s voice saying something that he couldn’t understand.
“Hello?” Gordon asked.
A moment passed, then a voice he remembered came across the phone.
“Gordon, don’t do anything this fucker says. Don’t do anything except kill this piece—”
“There’s a valley just a few miles from the bridge. We will be there in an hour,” Schmidt said, and hung up the phone.
“Major, hold on, Major? Damn!” Gordon bellowed.
“Let me guess, change of plans again?” Jones joked.
Sandy, Utah
The abrupt stop of the vehicle jolted Annaliese awake.
“I think we’re here,” said the man who had saved her in Cheyenne.
Eli Bennett had driven Annaliese all the way from Cheyenne to the outskirts of Sandy, Utah. When Wilbur asked if he’d help rescue two people, he had no idea it would take him this far. Getting out of Cheyenne proved difficult, but coordination with Wilbur made it possible. Eli had been a civilian contract worker at Warren Air Force base, providing avionics services before the lights went out. He had met Wilbur at Pat’s Coffee Shop soon after she had arrived there. Many a night after leaving Pat’s, they discussed politics, and soon she came to trust and confide in him. Even though both were single, neither had ever explored a romantic relationship; however, they both shared a passion for an open and free country. When she made the call telling him that she needed him, he didn’t hesitate. Now he was parked outside a large metal gate in the middle of the desert with a woman he had met only ten days before.
Their exodus from Cheyenne had been relatively uneventful. After spending several days in a safe house, he ushered her from the city. When asked where she wanted to go, she didn’t hesitate. She told him to go to Sandy. He didn’t know what to expect but he was fully committed to her safety.
“How do we get in?” he asked.
Annaliese’s recovery, while not the most ideal, had gone well, considering they were on the road. “I’ll be right back,” she said, exiting the Humvee. She approached a fence post ten feet from the gate. She carefully bent over, and upon standing back up, she held a key in her hand. Seeing how uncomfortable she looked, he got out and assisted her in opening the gate.
Once inside and with the gate locked back up, she told him where to go.
He drove for what seemed like five minutes when a bright light ahead blinded him. He slowed down and eventually stopped.
Annaliese opened the door and said, “It’s me, Annaliese!”
The light flashed on her face quickly before being pointed toward the ground.
“Annaliese, you and your beau are not welcome here!”
“Uncle Samuel, he
’s not here! Please, we need you, I need you!”
Samuel walked out of the darkness and into the light of the headlamps. He strode up to her and stopped just a few feet away. “What happened? Who is this?” he asked, flashing his light into the cab of the Humvee.
“Please, we’re tired. I’ll explain everything later.”
“Who is that? Where’s Sebastian?”
“His name is Eli Bennett, he saved my life! And Sebastian, I don’t know where he is, but I need your help. Please, help me!” she begged.
He looked at her again. This time the resentment in his eyes was gone. Regardless of what had happened he had the capacity for forgiveness, especially for his niece. He walked up to her and before he could put his arm around her, she embraced him tightly and began to sob.
“Uncle Samuel, I need you to help me save Sebastian,” she sobbed.
He returned her embrace. He looked at her face as tears streamed down and softly said, “C’mon, let’s get you inside and cleaned up. We’ll talk about Sebastian and what we can do, but let’s first get you and your friend inside.”
With his arm around her, supporting her as they walked, he said, “Your mother will be so happy to see you. It’s been too long.”
Rainbow Bridge, Idaho
A harvest moon was rising, casting a yellowish glow over the rocks, pavement, and tall pines. With Gordon’s sight limited, the sounds of the river were more pronounced. The mighty North Fork of the Payette crashed and moved underneath of him.
He stood on the north end of the bridge, waiting, a lone man ready to meet the man who held in his hands his brother and last member of his childhood family. Gordon couldn’t and wouldn’t allow Schmidt north of the Rainbow Bridge, and with the lack of time to react, he simply waited at the bridge for Schmidt to arrive.
The first sign of Schmidt’s arrival was the squeaking and rumble of tank treads upon the pavement. He squinted hard and saw a black mass moving toward the south end of the bridge. As it moved closer, he was able to focus and see the outline of the body and barrel. Six other vehicles followed behind the tank, but it for sure was not the force the private first class or man from Horseshoe Bend had described.
The tank came into full view when it turned and faced him head on at the opposite end of the bridge. The turret opened and out popped a man. He couldn’t make out who it was but he could only assume it was Major Schmidt.
The man began to walk toward him; Gordon too began to walk till he faced the man he believed was Schmidt.
“Gordon Van Zandt?” Schmidt asked.
“Major Schmidt?” Gordon replied.
“Yes, I’m Major Schmidt, U.S. Army.”
“So, before I—”
Schmidt cut him off by saying, “You broke your word. This is not the valley we had agreed to meet in. If I can’t trust you when it comes to a simple meeting, how can I trust we’ll be able to conduct this transaction?”
“I can’t let you pass this bridge. You and your army will never cross the bridge. You don’t have jurisdiction here. This is Cascadia now.”
“Ha, there is no such place, just a fantasy in the minds of fools.”
“Remember a guy by the name of George Washington? I’m sure King George had the same sentiment you have,” Gordon shot back sarcastically.
“This is a nice land you have, I’ll say that. This area is quite beautiful. Too bad it’s not really yours,” Schmidt said.
“Where’s my brother?”
“He’s back in one of the vehicles, but if you want him you’ll have to come with me, as will the other Cascadian traitors.”
“I have something else that you’ll be interested in. I know you heard of the NARS outbreak. Well, we found a cure, a vaccine. I will give you this vaccine in exchange for my brother and for you turning your people around and heading home.”
“Mr. Van Zandt, the deal is off,” Schmidt said, then turned and began to walk back to his tank.
“Stop!” Gordon yelled.
Schmidt turned, walked right up to Gordon’s face so that he was inches away, and said, “I don’t know why I offered a deal, because I’m going to march my army up to McCall and destroy it along with you and your family.”
Hearing the threat against his family was all Gordon needed to push him over the edge. Unable to stop himself, Gordon head butted Schmidt. The impact from Gordon’s forehead busted Schmidt’s nose wide open. The shock from the blow forced him back a few steps, but Gordon was right on top of him, leveling punch after punch to his face.
Schmidt reeled farther back from Gordon’s powerful punches until he fell onto his back. Gordon then pounced but Schmidt rolled out of the way. Gordon hit the concrete road hard, his knees and elbows taking the brunt of the jump.
Schmidt saw his advantage and kicked Gordon in the side, the blow knocking the wind out him.
The fight brought Schmidt’s men pouring out of the vehicles and onto the bridge to assist their commander.
“Back away, he’s mine,” Schmidt ordered as he stood.
Gordon was still on the ground but moving to get up. Again, seeing an opportunity, Schmidt kicked him in the stomach, but when he pulled back for another kick, Gordon grabbed his leg and twisted it. Schmidt’s knee popped and he fell onto the road.
Gordon had the clear advantage and he was going to take it. He pulled a pistol from the small of his back and placed it in Schmidt’s face. “Give me my brother!
Schmidt’s men raised their rifles but Schmidt yelled, “No, don’t shoot! Get his brother!”
Schmidt’s soldiers brought Sebastian out of the back of a Humvee but wouldn’t walk him past the front of the tank. Gordon could see he was limping and that he looked frail. “Sebastian, it’s Gordon. I’m getting you out of here!”
“Don’t trust this motherfucker, brother! He’s deceiving you!” Sebastian cried out.
Gordon rammed his pistol into Schmidt’s face and ordered, “Have your men let him go!”
Suddenly, a loud explosion followed by heavy machine gun fire could be heard in the distance. Somewhere south and, by the sound of it, miles away, a gun battle had just broken out.
Gordon looked to the south just long enough for Schmidt to sense he was distracted. Schmidt hit the pistol out of Gordon’s hand with one hand and punched him in the face with the other.
Gordon fell back and hit his head against the concrete railing of the bridge.
Schmidt scurried up and hobbled back toward the tank and his men.
“Gordon!” Sebastian yelled. “Run, get out of here!” With what little strength, he had he kicked one soldier in the side of the knee with his good leg and used his body to push by another, both men falling to the ground.
Sebastian began to make his way toward Gordon but Schmidt grabbed him and dragged him back.
“Give me my brother or I’ll destroy you and your entire army. You have one chance or I’ll kill you all!” Gordon screamed.
“You don’t have anything to barter with, Van Zandt! You’re a stupid, stupid man!” Schmidt responded as he took a pistol from one of his soldiers and placed it at Sebastian’s head.
“Brother! Save yourself, fight another day. Please, go!” Sebastian cried out.
“Schmidt, you’re making a mistake. You and your army will never make it!” Gordon shouted.
“Enough talk, I hold all the cards!” Schmidt yelled as he pulled the trigger.
The bullet passed through Sebastian’s head. For a second he stood, staring out, before he dropped to the ground with a thud.
“No! No!” Gordon screamed in agony at seeing his brother fall. “Open fire, open fire!!”
With that command the hillside behind Gordon came alive with heavy machine gun fire. A heavy barrage of bullets rained down on Schmidt and his small convoy.
Responding to the attack, Schmidt’s men began to fir
e back, but the onslaught was too much. Gordon’s men were ripping them apart.
Knowing he needed to get off the bridge, Gordon ran back and took cover behind the corner railing on the north side of the bridge.
With a roar, Schmidt’s tank fired, the round hitting the embankment behind Gordon.
In response to the tank fire, Gordon heard the familiar pop and whiz from a TOW missile system. The thunder of it launching soon ended with the metal-crushing sound of it impacting Schmidt’s tank. The direct hit shoved the turret partially off the chassis, killing all inside.
It was difficult for Gordon to see what was happening, but he could tell that Schmidt’s forces were overwhelmed and losing. Moments later he heard the cry of “Cease fire, cease fire!”
The haze from the gunfire drifted through the moon-lit sky, accompanied by the cries of the wounded on Schmidt’s side.
Gordon stood and started for the south side of the bridge. His slight jog turned into a full sprint until he reached Sebastian’s body. He fell to his knees and picked up his brother’s body and laid it in his lap. “I’m so sorry, little brother. I’m so sorry, I couldn’t save you.” Gordon was so engrossed with Sebastian that he didn’t take notice of his men who came across the bridge.
Michael walked up to him and said, “Gordon, I’m so sorry.”
“I failed, once again, I failed,” he moaned.
A man came up to Gordon and said, “No sign of Major Schmidt.”
This got Gordon’s attention quickly. He looked up and asked, “Are you sure? There’s no way he could have survived that.”
“No, sir, we can’t find him. He’s not with dead.”
McCall, Idaho
Samantha shot up in bed when she heard Haley’s screams. She grabbed the pistol on her nightstand and raced down the hall to her room. When she opened the door she found her sitting up but no longer crying. Instead, she seemed to be talking to herself.
“Haley, sweetheart, is everything all right?” Samantha asked, walking into the room, gun in one hand, flashlight in the other.
“I’m fine now, Mommy,” Haley answered, evidence of tears still on her face.
Samantha put the gun and flashlight down and brightened the lantern on her nightstand before she sat on the bed. “Honey, you were screaming and crying.”
The Line of Departure: A Postapocalyptic Novel (The New World Series Book 4) Page 32