by C. G. Cooper
Abrams indeed had his eyes closed. Then he opened them and peered through the trees at the horizon. A slight smirk appeared on his face. “Boys, I think I just had an epiphany.”
Chapter Sixteen
Abrams seemed to be returning to form. “Al, ol’ pal, do you know where the last remaining wildfire lookout towers are located?”
Higgins blinked twice. “No.”
“Me neither!” Abrams hooked an arm around Higgins’s shoulders. “But I do know there’s one located in good ol’ Virginia. Ask me how I know.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m glad you asked, son. See, when I was a wee little fella, I had this fascination with fire. Never quite reached pyromaniacal status, y’understand. Luckily for my career choice. But I’d done plenty of research and, uh, experimenting on the topic.”
Johnson raised his weapon to inspect the chamber. “We don’t even know if we’re still in Virginia, Abrams.”
“Too true, too true. But we’re already heading north into the mountains. I’m just suggesting we keep an eye out for any towers. Might do us good.”
Johnson snatched the map from the ground where Abrams had dropped it. “There’s nothing marked on the map they gave us, which is no big friggin’ surprise. But say we hit the foothills tonight. The tower, if it even exists, will probably be at the top of the highest peak. If we head in that direction, we’ll at least be able to see out across the range and look for signs of activity.”
“Done deal.” Abrams took the map back from Johnson and hefted his gun. “Onward!”
Higgins stifled a groan. The trek was taking a toll on his body. Even after a measly two days, his ankles were swollen, his pants were constantly falling down, and there was a tightness in his back that felt like it would be a permanent fixture from here on out. Johnson and Abrams, on the other hand, looked like they’d just started.
It was the first time since entering the program that Higgins thought maybe he couldn’t cut it. He wasn’t a field agent, that was plain and simple. And although it was likely that he’d see the inside of an interrogation room more often than he’d be hiking up mountains, there was always that chance that he’d be called in to do his work on location. If these last two days out in the woods were anything to go by, then maybe it would be best to quit while he was behind.
He looked down at his hands, covered in dirt and sweat. It made his skin crawl. He thought of another night of squirrel – or something worse. And he thought of sleeping on the ground with the worms, of waking up every half hour wondering what animal was out there sniffing around their shelter. It was enough to drive him insane. He felt the start of a panic attack coming on and dug his nails into his palms to keep him steady. He wouldn’t give either of his teammates the satisfaction of seeing him lose it.
Johnson crested a small hill and surveyed the land around him. Higgins’s resolution hardened further. He may not have the same experience as Johnson when it came to hand-to-hand combat or weapons training, but that didn’t make him any less of an asset. Higgins had completed their last exercise first. Johnson had been the weakest link in that case. They each had their strengths, and Higgins just had to accept that lugging a backpack through the woods wasn’t one of his.
Abrams bagged a couple more squirrels, and even though the sight of them sent Higgins’s stomach whirling again, he took one when it was offered. Today was not easy by any stretch of the imagination, but he was sure it could’ve been worse if he hadn’t eaten a decent meal the night before.
“We should stop here for the night,” Johnson said.
Higgins looked over his shoulder at the mountains in the near distance. “But we’ve still got daylight. Shouldn’t we keep going until we hit the base of the range?”
Johnson looked as though he was both annoyed at having to explain something like this to Higgins, and elated at having another chance to put the rookie in his place. “The trees are going to thin out in a couple hundred meters. It’d be better to camp here than out in the open. If we’re spotted, at least we have the woods to take cover in. Out there, you might not make it if we get ambushed again.”
“You’re afraid.” Higgins kept his eyes on their small fire when he said it.
“Excuse me?”
He looked at Johnson’s hard face, and the flickers of fire playing off it. “I said, you’re afraid.”
“Oh, that’s rich coming from a pencil neck like you. What in the hell makes you think I’m afraid?”
Higgins sighed. Sometimes the burden of being hyperaware of people’s quirks made it impossible to focus on anything else. “You keep looking over your shoulder.”
Johnson laughed. “I’m making sure we don’t get ambushed again, dumbass.”
Higgins shook his head. “You’ve rubbed all the bark off your fire poker and your legs haven’t stopped bouncing since you sat down. Abrams, we could camp a little closer to the foothills without being spotted, right?”
Abrams cleared his throat. “Yeah, probably. Could save us an hour or so in the morning.”
He turned back to Johnson and repeated, “You’re afraid of something. I just haven’t figured it out yet.”
Johnson stood abruptly. “The only thing I’m worried about is whether we’ll be able to carry your dead weight up the mountain when you give up tomorrow.” He turned toward Abrams now, a smirk on his face. “You get first watch. Can’t have you falling asleep again.”
Abrams waited until Johnson stalked off to erect their shelter, then stood and turned to Higgins. “I know you can’t help having a target on your back, Al, but I’d appreciate it if you’d stop putting one on mine, too. You need to learn when to keep your damn observations to yourself when they’re just gonna cause trouble.”
Higgins stifled a reply, as Abrams had already stormed off to do a perimeter check.
There wasn’t much chatter that night. Johnson went to sleep right after the shelter was erected, while Abrams stood stiffly against another large oak. Higgins said goodnight and got only a mumbled response. He didn’t push his luck.
The next morning, Johnson woke Higgins roughly and without a word before going back to sleep for a couple more hours. It was still dark out, and Higgins felt the groggy fog keenly. His muscles were stiff, his feet were sore, and the tightness in his back knotted up twice as bad as the day before.
Still, he dragged himself out of the tent and did a loop around their little camp. The night air was cool and relatively quiet compared to the day. As he walked through the trees, tiny critters scurried out of his way, and grasshoppers and cicadas sang their songs all around him. And yet, he felt utterly alone out here.
But the truth was he liked being alone. He longed for his days cooped up in his office, poring over files and watching tapes of criminals unknowingly fall into an interrogator’s trap. That’s what he wanted out of the EIU. He wanted to prove that it only took a sharp mind and a fair amount of patience to get anyone to do what you wanted.
He ought to try it out on Johnson, to see if he could manipulate him into becoming an ally. He quickly abolished the thought. Even he didn’t possess that kind of mental fortitude.
By the time the sun rose, both Johnson and Abrams were awake and breaking camp. Johnson was particularly surly. Higgins decided to keep his mouth shut, having learned his lesson from the night before.
They set out for the mountain and managed to reach the base in a couple of hours. When they got there, they found themselves in an unexpected predicament.
Abrams looked up at the summit and scratched his chin. “We can’t use the trails.”
Higgins, who had been looking forward to finally being able to follow a path, threw up his arms. “Why not?”
“Too obvious,” Johnson agreed. “If we’re meant to be here, then you can guarantee we’ll run into trouble. If we hit the trails, we’ll be much easier to spot. They’ll be expecting it.”
“But what if,” said Higgins, “because they know we know that they’re e
xpecting it, they’re caught off guard when we actually do use the trails?”
Abrams slapped Higgins on the back. “I don’t think your reverse psychology is gonna work in this situation, Al. We’re just gonna hafta bite the bullet and take the rough route.”
Higgins didn’t bother arguing. He knew he wouldn’t win.
Together, they started the trek through the woods and up the side of the mountain. It began at a steady incline, and despite Higgins’s aches and pains, the prospect of closing in on the next leg of their journey was enough to keep him motivated for most of the day. That and his intense desire to prove Johnson wrong about just being dead weight.
But when Abrams announced they were in the final stretch; the incline of the mountain was beginning to take a toll on all of them. Because of the men’s refusal to take any trails, they’d spent an unnecessary amount of energy walking around trees and climbing over logs. Higgins was drenched in sweat, and his pack felt like he was hauling several large dogs on his back.
Then, salvation. A gravel road near the summit’s peak. It wouldn’t do much to relieve the pain he was in, but they were heading in the right direction. At the very least, it was a balm to the mind.
But hiking trails come with hikers, and as soon as their feet hit the road, a lone traveler appeared around the corner. She was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, hiking boots, and a bandana to cover her greasy hair. She looked like she’d been on safari for a month.
She raised her arm and waved. “Hey there! Haven’t seen anyone in a couple of days.”
All three of them flinched as her voice echoed around them. Higgins shuffled uncomfortably as she took them all in, her gaze settling on him.
“Interesting hiking gear you’ve got there, buddy,” she said.
Higgins was the only one in jacket and trousers. At least the other two looked like they were ready to scale a mountain.
Abrams jumped in on her first comment. “We’re doing good, all things considered. Trail got a little steeper there than we were expecting. How about you?”
“Not bad. I do this trek at least once a year. This part gets me every time. Better to just push on through. Once you take a break, your legs don’t want to start moving again. Want to head up together?”
Johnson took on a conversational tone. It was the first time Higgins had seen him in character. He liked this version better than the real one. He gestured in Higgins’s direction. “If we don’t stop now, our friend the nerd over there is going to keel over.”
So much for the character. It was just as much of an ass as the real thing.
“No problem,” said the girl, whipping out a metal water bottle. “I’ll see you boys at the top, yeah? Cheers.” She took a healthy swig and took off.
The three of them waited until she was out of view before turning back to each other.
“Think we should wait until she clears out?” Johnson said.
“She’s an agent,” Higgins said, surprised at the confidence in his voice.
Abrams knitted his eyebrows together. “There’s no way you could know that.”
“If she were an agent,” Johnson said, “she probably would’ve attacked us right then and there. They could’ve set up an ambush here on the trail. We’d never be able to get out of it without falling back down the side of the mountain.”
“You gotta look at the shoes, Johnson.”
“Huh?”
“Her shoes were new. A seasoned hiker would’ve broken them in before she ever got this far. Besides, she was hardly sweating. I mean, the water bottle was a nice touch, but she wasn’t sweating.”
“So, she’s in shape,” said Johnson.
“You’re in shape,” returned Higgins. “Abrams is in shape. You guys are as drenched as I am. She was waiting around the corner until we showed up. It’s another test. We already know they’ve got trackers on us. I bet they want to see how we react, to see if we can spot the difference between an agent and a civilian.”
Higgins paused, resisting the temptation to look around him, searching out the hidden agents in the woods. He lowered his voice self-consciously. “Her bag was too light. It wasn’t digging into her shoulders like ours are. She didn’t look like she was having any trouble walking the trail. She’s not a hiker, she’s an agent.”
Abrams let out a low whistle. “Al’s got a point.”
Johnson groaned. “Are you getting as tired of saying that as I am hearing it?”
“No, not really.”
“So what’s the point of her contacting us directly? What good does that do them?”
Higgins adjusted his glasses. They were the dirtiest they’d ever been, and wiping them off on his mud-stained, sweat-soaked shirt wasn’t going to do any good. “Maybe they wanted to see if they could get us to follow her and use the trail for the rest of the hike to the summit.”
“Ambush,” Johnson said.
Abrams whistled.
Johnson scanned the trees quickly, then nodded across the road at the continuing woods. “Guess we better stick to our original plan, then. No trails.”
“No trails,” Higgins repeated. Uttering the words made his heart sink.
Chapter Seventeen
The group was deadly quiet as they finished the ascent. When they neared the top, Johnson slowed and turned back to them. The tip of a metal structure rose in the distance. Abrams had been right about the tower.
“We ready for this?”
“I suppose it would be unsporting of me to say no, right?” said Higgins.
“You need a weapon, Al.” Abrams tossed him his gun.
Higgins fumbled it and then picked it up off the ground. “What about you?”
“I’ll get another one right quick, don’t you worry.” Abrams winked at him.
Winked. He wasn’t taking this seriously enough.
Higgins shook the nervousness out of his arms. “I think it’ll be wiser for me to stay on the edge of the action.”
Johnson put his hands on his hips. “Huh. For once we agree.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “What can we expect up there, Abrams?”
“Probably going to be pretty open on account of the tower. I’m guessing we’re gonna need to get to it without getting shot.”
“Sounds easy enough.”
“To whom?” Higgins asked.
“Let the professionals handle it.” Johnson’s voice was tight. All business. “I’ll go first, check if the coast is clear. Abrams, you follow close behind, then flank right. I’ll go left. Higgins, stay on the edge of the trees and watch our backs.”
Abrams eyed him up and down. “Do you know how to shoot?”
“Point and squeeze, right?”
“More or less.” Abrams stood next to him and lifted the gun so it was against Higgins’s shoulder. “Follow your target before you squeeze. You’re more likely to hit something that way.”
“You’d be better off hiding.” Johnson turned and walked away, tossing a few more words over his shoulder as he did. “Whatever you do, just don’t get shot.”
Abrams had a sympathetic smile on his face. “Buy us some time. If you can pick them off from the tree line, it’ll keep it clear for us while we try to get to the tower.”
Higgins held back as Abrams followed in Johnson’s footsteps. After a few seconds, he crawled up after them, keeping the gun ready. No surprises this time.
Even though Abrams had warned them, Higgins was not expecting how wide open the field would be. It was grassy and flat, surrounded by trees, with a tall metal structure in the center. The lookout tower was rusted and weather-worn, and broken windows peered out from its shattered facade. Higgins guessed it was probably built mid-century. He didn’t know how much use the park rangers had gotten out of it, but it was clear it hadn’t been used in quite some time.
The hiker from earlier was nowhere to be found.
Johnson and Abrams circled the outer rim of the trees, inching their way closer to the tower. Higgins stayed put, with both
men in his sights. Doubt and fear gnawed at him from the inside.
The rustle of a branch was the only thing that clued Higgins into the imminent danger, but it wasn’t enough of a heads-up to prepare him for what happened next when a body dropped from the tree above and landed squarely on top of him. His knees buckled and the air was knocked out of his lungs.
The figure rolled Higgins over onto his back. He was dressed in black like the agents from the other day. His face was obscured though his eyes shone brightly behind the goggles. Once again, Higgins found himself at the business end of a barrel.
This time he didn’t waste his chance to get ahead of the agent before he could squeeze the trigger. He swung the gun up and rammed the end of it into the agent’s cheek. Jumping to his feet, Higgins kicked the man in the groin and watched as he fell. The agent’s recovery was quick however, and Higgins’s hands were shaking so much he couldn’t steady his weapon.
So instead, Higgins did the smartest thing he could think of and took off in Johnson’s direction, knowing that the only chance to stop his pursuer would be to paint him yellow. He moved ten or fifteen yards before he heard the telltale pop of an enemy weapon. The impact it made as it hit his bag sent a shockwave through his body. Zyga’s words flashed through his head. If you get shot, you’re out. Did it count if it was just his pack? No time to think on that now.
Johnson saw Higgins running for his life and raised his own gun, letting a couple bullets fly. They whizzed by Higgins’s left shoulder and impacted behind him.
“You were supposed to be on the lookout!” Johnson shouted. “You were supposed to have our backs, you coward!”
“I was on the lookout. I found one of them.”
“And led him right to me.”
“Well, it was either that or get shot in the face, and I figured you’d like that one less.”
“Get your shit together, Higgins. Let’s go. Abrams is on his own now.”
Johnson looked left, then right, then stuck a boot out of the tree line. Before it ever hit the ground, however, they heard a shout and both their heads snapped up simultaneously. Abrams was tearing across the field, zig-zagging like a madman, with three agents chasing after him. Sim rounds hit the tower and the ground all around him.