by Hunt, Jack
“Oppose? We are helping.”
“I know that. You know that. But there are those out there who have lost confidence in the government. And with the rollout of martial law, it won’t be long before more groups like Maine Militia incite riots.” He shook his head and paced. It was a two-edged sword. On one hand they could force the people in the camp to fish, on the other, force people in coastal towns to fish. Either way they still came out looking like the bad guy. He just had to determine what would result in less casualties for his crew.
“Maybe we are approaching this the wrong way. Perhaps we should just ask for volunteers,” the colonel said. “I’m sure there are those who want to feel useful. Once the word gets out to towns, they—”
“Volunteers?” he said cutting him off. “No, the moment you ask for volunteers is the moment they realize we are operating at a disadvantage.”
“Harris. They already know that.”
“Somewhat,” Harris replied. “Right now they are in the dark about the situation. Besides, martial law is about control. It’s the government’s last way of preventing civilians from doing whatever the hell they want. And right now that leads to chaos,” he said turning back to the colonel. “Even if we have the assistance of towns in fishing, a time will come when we need more ammunition and further supplies. Do you think people are going to just hand them over?” he said walking over to the door of the tent. “What do you see?”
The colonel stood beside him and looked out.
“People. Hundreds of them.”
“No. I see hope. As long as people have hope they will listen. Take that away and you will have anarchy. For years society has equated government with stability. Of course there have always been those who have complained, suffered and rallied against rules and regulations, but at the heart of people is a desire to follow. Our job is giving them a reason to stand behind us. That means feeding them, providing medication, giving them a sense of security. All of that requires supplies and time, and we are running out of both. I want you to take a group of your men and bring back supplies from Belfast and check in on the Castine community. Speak with your informant and then keep me updated.”
“And if the people of Belfast oppose?”
“You’ve been through war, colonel. Do your job.”
Sam observed the camp through high-powered binoculars. After giving up his weapon and badge, he’d informed Carl and Jake and had them gather together a group who’d be willing to travel up to the FEMA camp to do some surveillance. There was no point them getting up in arms over decisions if they didn’t know what was happening.
He watched as the colonel emerged from the tent and that asshole Harris followed him out. “What’s going on?” Carl asked, badgering him for the fourth time. Sam handed off the binoculars and dropped down from one of the trees. Jake and three others were watching out for trouble.
“So?” Jake asked. “How are they treating the people?”
He shrugged. Sam didn’t want to admit it but from what he could tell they weren’t being mistreated. The rumors had obviously been wrong. “They have armed soldiers patrolling but that’s to be expected. None of them are abusing the civilians. From what I can see Harris was telling the truth.” He ran a hand over his face. That’s why it didn’t make sense.
When Teresa told him that Mick was taking over, he thought that a decision like that had come about through some abuse of power, but maybe it was Teresa’s inability to make wise decisions or maybe Harris was using Castine as a testing ground.
“Hey Sam,” Carl said. Sam looked up. “The colonel and at least twenty military guys are heading out. But before doing so they loaded a number of boxes into the Humvees. If I’m not mistaken those appear to be weapons.”
“Now where would you be taking those?” Sam muttered.
“We could follow from a distance.”
“We won’t be able to keep up. Not on those,” he said pointing to the horses. It had been a long ride out of Castine but it beat hiking and Mick still hadn’t got his guys in enough order to prevent anyone from leaving the area.
“So what do you want to do?”
He frowned. “Head back. Nothing we can do.”
“Nothing? So you’re just gonna let Mick take the reins?”
“What choice do we have, Jake? Carl and I were there for the community. Teresa’s made her decision. Sometimes the only way people learn is by feeding them some rope and letting them hang themselves.”
He turned and walked over to one of the horses and mounted it.
“And who suffers for that?” Jake asked.
“The town is not my responsibility. Carl was right. We’re better off spending our time fishing.”
Jake scoffed. “Yeah. Well as long as you are happy with handing 50 percent of it over to Mick.”
“I didn’t say I would bring any back in.”
“You know what’s gonna happen.”
“What?”
“Boats will be confiscated. Anyone not seen to be helping will be cut loose.”
“I’d like to see him try.”
“Without weapons you don’t have a leg to stand on. All we have right now is our personal weapons. The rest they took.”
Carl jumped down from the tree and landed hard. He let out a wail. “Ah, damn it. I’ve twisted my foot. Fuck! God, I hate this Harris guy. I hate Teresa. And I hate Mick!”
Sam laughed. “What about beer?”
“I’ll make an exception there,” Carl said, his smile returning. He extended a hand and helped Carl onto the back of the horse.
“So that’s it?” Jake asked. “We just go home?”
“What do you expect, Jake… a war?”
“I thought the reason we were coming here was…” he trailed off gritting his teeth together. Sam stared at him and turned the horse away, gave it a nudge with his foot and broke away before getting into it with him. He knew what Jake expected. He expected him to lead the group against some form of tyranny but they weren’t up against that, just the bad decisions of an egotistical town manager who wanted to punish him for putting her in harm’s way. Even though they had caught Ian and put an end to the murders, she still went behind his back and spoke with Sheriff Wilson to get him relieved of his duties. He’d been in to speak with Wilson on the way up to the FEMA camp. Wilson refused to get involved. He’d said that at this stage the department was barely functioning. He couldn’t be babysitting them and that he should have known better. There was no commendation or pat on the back that they’d caught a killer. It was all about saving face. That’s when he knew his career was over. Even if the country went back to the way it was before, he wouldn’t return to his position.
Maybe Teresa had done him a favor.
“Are we really heading out on the boat?” Carl asked over his shoulder as the horse trotted steadily along the road.
“Yep.”
“While I’m all for it, I never figured you as one to give up.”
“Who said anything about giving up?” Sam said casting a smile over his shoulder.
13
After spending one night in Pawling, New York, their bellies were full and their spirits high as they set out for Cornwall Bridge in Connecticut, twenty-three miles away. Abigail had been kind enough to replenish their supplies with enough food to keep them going for the next four days, and additional ammo. In fact their encounter with the small town had seemed almost like a dream after the nightmare in Mountain City. And yet it attested to the resilience of the American people. If Pawling could survive and not crumble, other towns and cities could follow suit. It wouldn’t be easy but Pawling had shown it was possible. Sure, they had the unusual advantage of an emergency program that had made the transition smoother but still, people were people at the end of the day, and internal fighting, greed and outside pressure from strangers could have hurt the town.
It hadn’t.
It gave him hope for Castine, and for the country as a whole.
Landon took a few seconds to
brace himself against a tree to catch his breath. Although he was beginning to get used to the rhythm of hiking, his age was definitely a factor. Beth on the other hand was a spring chicken, she didn’t seem to break a sweat.
“You go on, I’ll just rest my legs for a minute,” he said.
Beth stopped and grinned. “That’s what comes from eating too much. I told you to go easy.”
“The food was good though, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, I have to admit I was tempted to stay.”
“Well if Castine has been wiped off the map at least we know where to return.”
He smiled and sat down on a slab of rock under the shade of lime-green leaves.
Passing from one state to the next, Landon had noticed how the terrain kept changing. Connecticut could be summed up in one word — countryside. The winding trail had taken them through farmers’ fields, and thick woodland running almost parallel to the Housatonic River. Through the trees he could make out a flock of geese drifting downstream. For the first time since embarking on their trip he began to see the beauty of the nature. Okay, he still wasn’t in love with the creepy crawlies but he understood that he was in their world and with that came a newfound respect.
“My mother loved Connecticut. She always wanted to live here.”
He nodded. “Beth, you mind me asking about your mother?”
She glanced at him and a frown formed.
“What do you want to know?”
“Curious to know what she was like. You’ve talked about your father but not her.”
Beth snapped a thin branch and tossed a piece for Grizzly to catch. “There’s not a lot to say. She was… fun, caring and there for me. I was fifteen when she passed away. You know, you grow up around parents thinking you know who they are but I’m not sure I really ever knew them. I mean, really knew them. Like I knew what they did for a living, I knew they loved nature and thought that it was important to live off the grid but…” she trailed off getting a pained expression. “I didn’t know that she was tangled up in drugs or an addict but according to my father that’s what she was when he met her, before I was born. He’d helped her to get off it but at some point she went back to it. Kept it from him and was very good at hiding that side of her life.”
Grizzly came bounding back with the branch and dropped it at her feet.
“She overdose?”
“That’s what I was told. Well, not initially. I was told that she was very sick and was at the hospital getting help but that was just my father covering up for her.” She threw the stick again. “Anyway, I guess she died in the hospital.”
Landon nodded. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“Yeah, well we don’t all get happy endings, do we,” she said it as if that helped her accept it.
“Your father. How did he cope with it?”
“Through the bottle. Yeah, that’s where I thought he was the night your plane crashed. He was meant to come back that evening you arrived. I was on my way down the mountain and…”
“You never told me that.”
“Didn’t think it mattered.”
“What, that you chose to put your life in danger to help me when you could have gone into town?”
She snorted. “Trust me, it wasn’t exactly like that. What remains of the Ski-Doo is proof of that.”
His lip curled up.
“Anyway, enough about me. What about you? You haven’t talked that much about your wife or son. What are they like?”
It seemed odd that they had spent over five and a half months together and they hadn’t really talked about their families. Then again, thinking about them only brought painful memories. It was easier to concentrate on survival than it was to think about how Sara and Max were holding up. After losing Ellie, he’d struggled to find the will to keep going. Had it not been for Beth nursing him back to health, and at times force feeding him when he was laid up, he may have given up.
“Max is around your age. Actually he will turn eighteen very soon. I’ve been there for every birthday. This will be the first I won’t.” He picked at the moss on the rock below him. “Sara. Well she is a firecracker. I’m surprised she’s put up with me for so long.”
“Why’s that?”
He tossed a piece of moss. “Work. Being away from home. It takes its toll. I mean it’s not like I go out of my way to piss her off or be away from them but sometimes life gets in the way. You find yourself buried beneath debt, and working all hours just to keep your head above water.”
“But doesn’t she run an inn or something?”
“She does but with a big inn comes big overhead. Bills pile up, and then you have two kids to put through college. It’s not long before you find yourself wondering where all the money goes at the end of a month.”
“College.” She snorted. “Now that’s something I won’t get to do.” She kicked at some loose stones and then threw the branch for Grizzly again.
Landon glanced at her. “What were your plans?”
“If you were to ask my father he would have said to take over his outdoor education center. But that’s not what I wanted to do.”
“No?”
Beth shook her head. “No, I wanted to be a nurse like my mother.”
“Well that explains a lot.”
“About what?”
“The way you took care of me on that mountain. Not everyone is cut out to be a nurse. It’s long hours, thankless at times, and you deal with some of the worst in society.”
“How do you know?”
“A friend of mine’s wife is a nurse. You could say she wasn’t as fond of the job. But hey, I think you would have made one hell of a nurse.”
She chuckled.
Right then, they looked over at Grizzly. He had dropped the branch and the hair on his back was up. He looked off down the trail, in the direction they were heading, and began to growl. “What is it, boy?” Beth asked. Both of them gazed that way but couldn’t see anything and the only sound came from the river.
Although Landon’s immediate thought was Billy, after so many days, he was beginning to think that Beth was right and he’d taken the moment to escape and probably succumbed to the elements. Beth jumped up and snapped the leash back on Grizzly. Landon shrugged back into his backpack and they double-timed it off the path, trudging through the forest trying to find a place to drop down and observe from a distance.
They took cover behind boulders farther up a steep incline and waited. Landon kept looking around as they’d passed a rattlesnake curled up in a ball just off the trail a few miles back. After the pain he endured, he definitely didn’t want another snake incident.
Down below they watched as three male hikers came into view. One was in his early forties, tall, blond, wiry, intense looking with little body fat. The second one had ginger hair, pale skin and a ruddy appearance. He had a cigarette in his mouth and was leading the way. The last one at the back looked like a pear. He had long greasy hair, tattoos on his arms and was sporting a Metallica T-shirt. Around his waist was a long piece of rope that was connected to a woman’s wrists. She was in her late thirties, wavy black hair cropped short, and she was wearing stonewashed jeans, a dirty white muscle shirt and nothing on her feet. What the hell?
“Come on, keep up!” the fat guy said tugging on the rope and causing her to stumble. Her knees drove into the earth and she wailed in pain. “Man, if I have to tell you again, I will…” He slapped her face and grabbed her by the hair to pull her to her feet.
Landon saw red and brought up his rifle but Beth placed her hand on the barrel and forced it down, shaking her head.
The hikers continued on their way, dragging the woman behind them. Once they were out of sight, Landon rose to his feet. “Look, I understand this country has gone belly-up and we can’t help everyone without putting our lives at risk but I think you know when we should help. That was it!”
“No it wasn’t,” Beth said.
“Beth! I think if anyone
would understand and feel compassion for that woman it would have been you.”
“I think you have misunderstood,” she said rising to her feet.
“What is there to misunderstand? We just let them walk away.”
“Landon. Stop. I didn’t say I wasn’t going to help. I just said it wasn’t the right time.” He stared back at her. “You remember back in Neva. It’s all about timing. Three of them, two of us.”
“We could have shot two of them.”
“And risked the woman’s life?”
“No, you stay here. Let me go and follow them.”
“What?”
“Well someone has to watch Grizzly.”
“We’ll take him with us. You saw the way he handled the guy in the cabin, and Billy.”
“Yeah and all it takes is for a bullet to—”
“How’s that any different than us?”
“Man, you love to argue, don’t you?” she said pitching sideways and making her way back to the trail.
“I could say the same about you,” he replied following her down. “Look, I know you can handle yourself.”
“Yep,” she replied.
“But…”
“Again, Landon, you’re making assumptions. The reason I want to go alone is there’ll be less chance of being heard. I grew up and hunted in woods like this. I know how to move through the forest with as little sound as possible.”
“And I can’t?”
“Listen, trust me. You need to trust me.”
“I do,” he said. “More than you know.”
“Then stay with Grizzly. I won’t be long. I’m just going to see.”
“See what?” She didn’t answer. He clenched his jaw. “And if you don’t come back?”
“Give me an hour.”
“An hour?” He sighed. “Beth, c’mon!”
“Landon, trust me.”
“Right.” He threw his arms up and took a seat on a boulder with Grizzly who sat there whining. “Yeah, I know, boy, but she goes to the beat of her own drum.”
It didn’t take long for Beth to catch up with them. She heard them before she saw the fat one cursing at the woman and threatening her. Beth stepped off the trail and slipped through the thick underbrush and climbed up the steep slope to get a better view of them but at the same time keep herself out of sight. Like a cougar stalking its prey she darted from tree to tree barely making a sound. From a young age her father had taught her how to traverse wooded areas while avoiding the crunch of leaves and branches. He’d made it a game. It was like capture the flag except there were no teams involved. He would count to fifty and have her go off into the forest. If she could grab the flag without him hearing her, she would win. Months and months of trial and error, but she eventually learned where to place her feet and how quickly to move between trees.