by R. Gualtieri
“Goddamn it all!” he muttered, the curse escaping his lips before he could think better of it. Lashing himself for his sinful words would have to wait, though. He needed to avenge the boy and send this intruder to whatever hell awaited those who stepped foot where they didn’t belong.
Silence continued to reign. Elijah listened hard for any sign of movement from the stranger’s location, but none came. Either the bastard was damn good or he was standing his ground, hoping for them to make a mistake. Elijah didn’t get a sense of the former. These interloping sons of whores had acted like fools from the get-go. No reason to think they’d smartened up since.
He picked up a rock and threw it, listening as it knocked against a tree and fell to the ground with a thud.
Still nothing.
Elijah whistled again, letting the others know to keep holding their positions, and then crept forward.
The quiet was just beginning to unnerve him when he heard a shot from somewhere further back the way they’d come. He flattened himself on the ground and waited to see if there was more, but that was all he heard.
What the?
Had the others found that bitch Sarah? Or maybe they’d flushed out whatever bastard had shot Lemuel earlier.
He couldn’t worry about that now, though. He had to trust in his family and God to protect them.
Elijah Lesterfield continued to creep forward, inching past bushes and pushing through undergrowth toward where he thought he’d heard the intruder last. He said a silent prayer as he moved, begging the Good Lord to watch over him.
He was just about to mentally add an “Amen” when he slid some branches out of his way and found a pair of eyes staring back at him.
Elijah cried out in surprise, pulled his rifle up, and fired it point blank into the intruder’s face.
Three more shots answered from somewhere behind him – his family. He heard them strike the trees around him while he ducked down and hoped for the best.
“It’s me, you idiots!” he cried out once the echoes from the gunfire died down.
He stood up, covering the trespasser with his rifle just in case he was playing possum. It was the space of a second, no more, to see that wasn’t the case. His own bullet had struck true, nearly splitting the man’s forehead open. Fatal as it was, though, it hadn’t mattered because the stupid son of a bitch’s brains were already splattered on the ground beside him.
The intruder’s final shot suddenly made sense. The crazy bastard had blown his own head off rather than let them catch him.
Elijah gave the man’s body a savage kick, then another.
Son of a bitch!
He put his hands together and gave a crow caw, the signal for all clear. Soon enough, Samuel and Matthew stepped out, guns at the ready, and joined him.
“Where’s Adam?” Samuel asked.
Elijah shook his head. “Bastard got him. Where the hell are the others?”
“I saw Jonathan back near the bog. No idea where he wandered off to after.”
“I thought Zacharias was with us,” Matthew said.
Elijah opened his mouth to shout for their missing family members but then remembered there were still more trespassers in the woods.
“You don’t think...”
Elijah rounded on his brother. “I don’t think anything. We’re not through here yet. We ain’t found Sarah, and there’s no telling whether our kin found whoever shot Lemuel. Let’s go find the others.”
“What if they’ve already been got?” Samuel asked.
“Then we’ll find those who laid them low and do the same to them. God smiles upon us just as he has done for centuries. Now is not the time for us to lose faith.”
CHAPTER 44
Derek bent down to examine the body, then was forced to close his eyes for several seconds as his guts cramped up.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine” he lied. His meds were wearing off fast and his head was swimming from the pain and exertion, but he needed to focus. They couldn’t give up, especially not now.
Derek didn’t often care to indulge in false hope, but the reality was they’d found Ezekiel Lesterfield’s body and the cause of his death was somewhat unexpected.
At first he thought perhaps Julia’s shot had hit home and the man had simply collapsed. But a cursory examination proved that to be untrue. There was a gaping knife wound in Ezekiel’s chest. Someone had stuck a blade in him. Pretty darn deep, too, by the look of things.
“Think Arthur did this?” Julia asked, holding her light steady over the body.
“Doubt it. This isn’t something you get up and run away from. Pretty sure whoever did this not only punctured one of his lungs, but outright shredded it. No way was he sprinting through the woods after that. Also, look at his face.”
“You’re right. He was an ugly bastard.”
“Not that. Look at this bruising. Something hit him in the jaw. Can’t tell for certain in these conditions, but I’d be willing to bet someone ambushed and then killed him, probably before he even realized what was going on.”
“Couldn’t happen to a nicer asshole.”
“Not arguing that one,” Derek replied. “But I’m more interested in who our avenging angel is. Shine the light over there, please.”
Julia did as asked. “I don’t see anything interesting. Trampled grass, some mud, blood splatter.”
“Exactly.” Derek dropped to one knee. He put a hand on the ground, hoping it looked like he was examining the crime scene, but in actuality it was to keep from toppling over. After a moment more, he caught his breath again. “Why is there mud splattered here? This ground is dry? And look. Tracks.”
“From who?”
“I don’t know, but whoever they are, they’re on our side, which means we need to find ... ugh.” Derek rose, staggered, then leaned against a tree to keep himself from falling.
“Fine my ass,” Julia said. “What we need to do is get back, see how Arthur is, and have that friend of yours pump you full of whatever it was that was keeping you on your feet.”
“I’m...”
“Oh, shut up.” She took his rifle from him without much protest, then offered her shoulder for him to lean on.
“I’m okay, really, Julia. I can...”
“You can make it, I know. But I’m making sure you can. Because if you keel over, I doubt I’ll be able to drag your ass all the way back.”
♦ ♦ ♦
“Hold the goddamned light steady,” Mitchell ordered.
“I’m trying. Jesus Christ, what are you doing to him?”
“Emergency tracheotomy,” the medic replied, unfolding his pen knife.
Mitchell had feared they were too late when they’d come across that bastard atop Arthur. Those fears had been confirmed when he’d found the kid wasn’t breathing and had no pulse.
From the look of things, he’d been strangled. Mitchell had hoped for the best – that Arthur’s windpipe hadn’t been completely crushed – and had immediately started CPR, having the new guy stand guard.
A few breaths were enough to tell him that Arthur’s airway was definitely obstructed. It was likely already too late for the poor kid, but Mitchell refused to give up. Unfortunately, there was no chance of opening an airway if he couldn’t see what the fuck he was doing.
“Good. Now keep it there. This is only going to take a moment.”
“Oh, God! I think I’m gonna puke.”
“Then look at a tree or something,” Mitchell snapped, trying to insert the hollowed tube into the incision he’d made.
“Okay, I’ll try.”
Mitchell forced himself to concentrate. He couldn’t afford to babysit the other man, not when he was racing against the clock here. Memories came back to him, unbidden, of another kid of similar age. His name had been Rob and he, too, hadn’t deserved what had happened to him.
It had been over quickly, his body broken beyond repair
by a monster driven mad by disease. There’d been no chance to save him. Though Mitchell often kept such thoughts to himself, Rob’s death had haunted him. He’d invited the kid to help with his analysis, placing him in the very danger that had ended his life.
It was only now, working to save Arthur, that he realized he’d done almost the exact same thing again. That struck a chord deep within him and he redoubled his efforts. Once the kid’s airway was open, he’d do his damnedest to get him breathing again, even if it meant working until he collapsed.
Mitchell taped the tube into place. He bent down to start CPR again when he heard a wheezing breath. His first thought was overwhelming joy. But then he heard it again and realized it wasn’t coming from Arthur.
The flashlight beam was suddenly turned elsewhere, once more draping the medic and his patient in darkness.
“What the fuck?” Kyle asked, playing the light out into the surrounding tree line.
“Goddamn it, I told you to...”
The attack came before he could finish. Something massive launched itself from the surrounding brush between where the two men stood. Mitchell had only a moment to note the tough lumpy skin before he was backhanded away. He was knocked ass over teakettle, his head colliding with a tree trunk.
Mitchell slumped to the ground unconscious – the sound of screams following him down into the darkness until he heard no more.
♦ ♦ ♦
Danni was tracking another of the Lesterfields when she heard shouting. Then came gunfire, followed by silence. After a few more minutes, she’d spied lantern lights moving through the trees. She had a bad feeling that whoever had been fighting back had lost. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t be avenged.
She’d been closing in, trying to determine how many of the bastards were up ahead and whether she could pick them off one by one, when she’d heard the others.
First a cry of pain – short, brief, and easily missed had the forest not been dead silent. But then came the screams. Unmistakable, but also brief, as if whoever had made them had been silenced quickly.
It was that last thought that stuck with her. The gunshots up ahead, followed by the Lesterfields moving off, told a story, one with a likely unhappy ending for whoever had been their victim.
But if there was even a chance she could save someone else, she had to take it. As much as she wanted to hurt these monsters for what they’d done, she was relieved to find she didn’t want to live with herself knowing she could have saved someone and chosen vengeance instead.
She once more unslung the single-shot rifle from over her shoulder and held it out to guide her way as she turned in the direction the cries had come from. Though she wanted desperately to escape this forest, there wouldn’t be much she could do if she fell victim to one of the many traps littering the area.
As Danni moved away, she failed to notice the lantern lights she’d been tracking speeding up, as if in pursuit.
CHAPTER 45
“Don’t move,” Derek whispered into Julia’s ear. “Not a muscle. If you pull back, you could set it off just as surely as stepping forward.”
His breath tickled her ear, but there was nothing funny about what was happening. She’d been helping him walk back when they heard cries coming from the direction where they’d left Mitch to work on Arthur. In her haste to hurry up, she’d forgotten about the pitfalls of this place.
She felt guilty about leaving the poor kid, but the opportunity to wring some information about Sophie from these bastards had seized hold of her. Unfortunately, Ezekiel Lesterfield had already been dead by the time they found him, something that gave her no small amount of satisfaction, but ultimately didn’t do much to help her sister.
Now here she was, her leg pressed against a trip wire, afraid to so much as breathe lest she trigger it.
“Hold steady.” Derek slowly disengaged from her grasp, doing whatever he could to keep her from shifting her weight.
She could feel the heat radiating off him, saw droplets of sweat dripping down his face. He was probably running a fever, the result of pushing himself too far too soon.
He was trying to mask how hard he was breathing – probably his way of reassuring her – but was doing a poor job at it. Nevertheless, she appreciated the effort.
It felt as if her heart skipped a beat as he finally untangled himself from her. He reached up to tap his earpiece. “Mitch, come in. Do you read me, over?” A second later, he tried again. “Just give me a ping, that’s all I need. Over.” The expression on his face said it all. “Shit!”
For a moment, she was worried he’d race off to help his friend, leaving her alone and trapped in the woods, but then Derek dropped to his knees next to her. A new fear instantly took hold – that he was going to pass out right there – but, fortunately, it appeared to be purposeful. He slowly crept forward to investigate the wire her ankle was pushing against.
He moved off into the bushes to the right, barely making a sound as he did whatever the hell he was doing. It didn’t matter so long as the end result wasn’t her being impaled or worse.
A few seconds passed, then Derek whispered in a barely audible tone, “Your light. Kill it. Now!”
She was tempted to ask if he was crazy, but the urgency in his voice said otherwise. Praying that she wasn’t about to condemn herself to a death she wouldn’t see coming, she reached up and flipped her headlamp off.
A moment later, she heard it. The barest rustle of leaves, a small twig snapping. She held her breath and realized Derek was doing the same. Well, either that, or he was unconscious, although she really hoped that wasn’t the case.
Up ahead, moving parallel to the way they’d been going, she thought she spotted movement. Not much, just the sway of a branch a couple yards away. It was hard to tell in the darkness, even with her eyes adjusted to the gloom. More than once this night she’d jumped at what she thought to be something moving in the dark, only to realize it was her eyes playing tricks on her.
Julia didn’t think that was the case now. Derek had apparently heard it, too, even before she had. She did her best to become little more than a dead spot in the woods, silently praying things didn’t get worse.
Again she thought she heard something, this time further on. It was slight, just barely there. Whoever or whatever it was, they were definitely heading in the direction she and Derek had been going – back toward Mitch, Arthur, and that guy who worked for Zeist.
Damn it all!
Sadly, there wasn’t much she could do about it, not with her life perhaps a pound of pressure away from being snuffed out. Even if she could draw her gun and fire without setting off the trap – a dubious proposition – there was little chance of hitting anything through the trees. So she remained as still as she could, hoping that their friends were okay, even if she didn’t believe that to be the case.
Julia was just about to call out to Derek again when she heard something else. More movement, this time coming from behind them.
What the hell?!
Whatever Derek was doing, he continued to remain silent, and again she couldn’t help but fear that he’d succumbed to his injuries, leaving her trapped and alone.
Julia risked turning her head and realized it was definitely not her imagination. She saw a trio of lights in her periphery, and they appeared to be headed her way.
“Derek,” she whispered as low as she could and still be heard. There was no response. With her light off, she couldn’t see where he was, although he couldn’t have been more than a few feet away. She certainly hadn’t heard him move off. At least she hoped he hadn’t.
As the lights – lanterns from the look of it – drew ever closer, she debated her course of action. There was little doubt in her mind that whoever was out there was unfriendly, be they mutant freaks or the governor’s men. The difference was, that latter group would just arrest her. The others, she didn’t really want to think about it. Julia desperately wanted to learn wh
at had happened to her sister, but this wasn’t the way she hoped to do it.
She was rooted in place, neither able to move nor adequately defend herself.
Whatever she was going to do needed to be done quickly. Two of the lanterns appeared to be fanning back and forth, as if searching, but one of them steadied and pointed in her direction. She’d been spotted.
“Don’t shoot!” she cried out, raising her hands above her head. “Please!”
If the others hadn’t noticed her before, they certainly had now.
A gunshot rang out in the darkness. She saw a muzzle flash and heard wood splinter from a tree only a few feet away. Julia almost dove for cover out of instinct alone, but managed to hold her ground at the last possible second.
“Don’t move,” a rough voice cried out. “Only warning you get.”
Julia stayed as still as she could, sweat pouring down her face despite the cool night air. She silently prayed for Eric Zeist or one of his men to step from the forest. Right at that moment, a jail cell didn’t sound too bad.
The three figures who stepped from the brush were shrouded in shadow, but when they held up their lanterns, Julia saw enough to know that, whoever they were, they didn’t work for the governor.
♦ ♦ ♦
The faint sound of movement caught Noah’s ears just as he removed his teeth from the trespasser’s ruined throat. He coughed out a thick wad of blood and eyed his handiwork with a smile.
Someone was coming and their timing was perfect.
He didn’t spy any lights approaching through the trees. Not that it meant anything.
Crouching down to all fours, Noah slipped beneath a felled trunk and began to work his way around the clearing, slow and steady, but keeping close so he could see who emerged. Once in place, he took several deep gulps of air so as to get his breathing under control, his respiration sounding like halted chuffs. He’d been over-exerting himself, first searching for Sarah and then dealing with these intruders. His injuries from the day before, minor yet still painful, weren’t helping matters. His chest was starting to hurt. If he didn’t calm down a bit, they’d hear him the second they moved into the clearing, and he didn’t want that.