by Bruno Miller
John finished drinking and pulled the radio off his belt. “Good idea. Come in, Bill. Do you copy? Over.” He fiddled with a few of the knobs as they all waited for a response.
“Yeah, go ahead. This is Bill. Over.” There was a fair amount of static mixed in with Bill’s voice, but they could hear him.
“Just doing a radio check. Over,” John answered.
“Okay. A little bit of static on my end, but I can hear you clear enough. Over.”
“Roger that. Same here. Over and out.” John was about to clip the radio back onto his belt when it crackled again.
“How are you guys makin’ out? Over.”
John glanced at Reese. “Buster’s earning his keep. We’ll check in later. Over.”
“Copy that. Over and out.” This time the radio stayed silent as John clipped it back onto his belt and turned the volume down. Vince was pleased to know the radios were working and they provided a small sense of security. It would be a good idea to check in from time to time as they traveled farther away. The signal was weak and most likely wouldn’t improve. He guessed they would eventually stop working again, and it would be important to know at what point they lost communication with the others. Still, knowing they had backup if they needed it made him feel better.
Vince also brought along a flare in his bag, and they had agreed to only launch it in case of an emergency. If the flare went off, whoever was on watch was to come immediately with the truck. It wouldn’t be much use once the sun came up, but at night, it could prove more reliable than the radio.
Buster seemed anxious to continue and began to lead them north in the opposite direction of the quarry. This came as no surprise to Vince and probably not the others, either. That was the direction the looters had come from the other night when Vince spotted the lights from the quarry. Just how far down this road was anybody’s guess.
Tom shook his head. “I knew it.”
“Yeah, let’s just hope it’s not too far.” John wiped his face with a rag and stuffed it into his back pocket.
“What happens if we run into them out here? I mean, if we see them coming?” Cy asked.
“Then we get off the road and stay out of sight until they pass,” Vince said. “They’re not going back to Cloverdale tonight. They have what they came for and won’t risk another fight if they think they’re getting what they want tomorrow.”
“I agree. We let them pass unless it’s one vehicle. Then maybe we try to take them out,” John said.
Vince nodded and was about to say he agreed, but Tom spoke up first. “As long as they don’t have Ryan with them, I say we hit them with everything we have.”
“We’ll play it by ear, then.” John turned to look at the others. “But first we get off the road and hide.”
Everyone agreed, and the group started down the road with Buster and Reese in the lead once more. Based on Tom’s outburst back there, Vince was a little concerned that even after they had Ryan in their possession, Tom might not be satisfied. He was clearly eager to exact justice on the looters, and while Vince understood his motivation, it worried him. Tom was clearly consumed by thoughts of revenge, and acting on his impulses could put them all in danger. They would have to keep a close eye on Tom.
Chapter Five
Reese was proud of Buster, and he had exceeded her expectations. They had participated in several drills with the Cloverdale Fire Department and specifically their SAR team, but the stakes had never been this high before. There was a lot of pressure for Buster to perform, and she didn’t want to let anyone down.
Looking for a lost child in the woods was one thing; now, not only were they searching for a kidnap victim, but they were also dealing with some nasty people on the other end. It wasn’t just Ryan who was in danger, and if they couldn’t find him and bring him home, they would all be in trouble. On top of everything else, they were working against the clock.
She and Buster had been under time constraints before with the lost girl at Leiber State Park last year, but that was different. The worst-case scenario for the girl would have been spending the night alone in the woods. But Ryan wasn’t lost; he’d been taken and was being held captive by a group of people who’d proven they would stoop to whatever level necessary to get what they wanted. They were killers, and this wasn’t a game or a drill. This was the real deal, and it was up to Buster and her to find Ryan as soon as they could.
If they didn’t get Ryan back by tomorrow night, the people who took him would expect the supplies to be waiting under the overpass by the interstate. And if everyone at the motel had to surrender their food and gear, how would she and the others survive?
Not that she thought the Major or John were the type to give in that easily. In fact, she was sure they wouldn’t give in to the gang’s demands, which meant there would undoubtedly be another fight. Either way, they were going to have to face these bad people again—there was never any doubt about that. Fighting with the looters seemed like the only certain thing in their future anymore.
That was probably what bothered Reese the most. She understood that the world was a different place now and that things would never be the same again. She’d even somewhat come to terms with the fact that she would most likely never see her friends again. But she couldn’t stop thinking about when the next attack would happen.
In fact, thinking about the looters kept her up at night, when she waited to hear the warning sound of the truck horn. She tried not to let it bother her, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread, and it was starting to affect her mentally. The lack of sleep alone made her feel like a zombie most days.
“Good boy. That’s it. You’re doing a great job, Buster.” Reese praised her dog quietly as he raced off ahead with his nose in the air. She looked back to see how the others were doing and made eye contact with Vince, who shot her a quick smile and a nod of approval. Providing value to the group made her feel good, and she was glad that she and Buster could help out in such a big way.
She wiped the sweat from her face and followed after Buster, who continued darting back and forth from the bushes along the edge of the road to the hard-packed shoulder. Using the road was much easier than cutting a trail through the woods, but it was still hard work. The heat was relentless, and the lack of wind—or any movement for that matter—only added to their misery.
Reese hoped they could find Ryan tonight and make it back to the motel before the sun came up. Just the thought of being out in the heat of the day made her reach for her water bottle and take a long drink.
“Buster, you want some water? Water, Buster?” Reese shook her bottle for the dog, but he seemed uninterested at the moment and stayed on task.
Just then, Cy picked up his pace until he was walking next to her.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“So far so good. He’s still on the scent, doing what he does.”
“We might have to take a break soon.” Cy lowered his voice. “You know, for the old guys.” He glanced over his shoulder.
“Yeah, I was wondering about that,” she added with a smile.
“I know they won’t say anything, but I think they might need a couple minutes to rest. We’ve been walking for over an hour now.” Cy wiped the back of his neck with a cloth.
“I wonder how much farther we’ll have to go to find them,” she asked.
Cy shrugged. “I don’t know. Let’s hope not much.”
Reese heard John try for a radio check with Bill. He tried several times but couldn’t reach him. The rest of the group came to a halt as he continued trying.
John shook his head and looked at Vince. “I don’t get it. We can’t be more than five or six miles away. I should be able to reach him without any trouble.”
“Yeah,” Vince said. “I don’t know why they’re not working, either. My guess is the EMPs did something to the atmosphere. Must be causing some kind of interference, but what do I know?”
“We might as well take a breather here f
or a few minutes,” John said.
“I can keep going. I’m good.” Tom moved to the front of the group and looked ready to continue.
“We need to pace ourselves or we won’t be worth anything when we find them,” Vince reasoned.
“Just give us five minutes, Tom,” John argued. “It’s hot and we need to stay hydrated.” Buster trotted back to the group and joined them. He nudged Reese’s hand with his nose as she took a drink from her water bottle.
“Ready for that drink now?” She looked down at Buster as he panted loudly.
“That’s a pretty good dog you’ve got there, young lady,” John said. “I know I’m impressed.”
“Thanks. He’s a good boy. Aren’t you?” Reese scratched Buster as he looked up from his makeshift water bowl, slobber trailing out from both sides of his mouth.
They all stayed there for a few more minutes without saying much of anything else. They were all tired; at least Reese figured they had to be. The big 12-gauge shotgun Vince and John insisted she carry was starting to feel heavy. While she understood the necessity of having the gun, it didn’t make walking any easier.
She wondered how long they would be able to keep up this pace, and she wondered about Buster as well. He still seemed enthusiastic about his job, but he was showing signs of slowing down. She ran her fingers through his coarse fur. He looked back at her almost as if he knew what she was thinking, then stood up from where he had been lying next to her.
The rest of the group took that as a cue and started to stand up and gather their bags and guns.
“Well, shall we?” Vince flung his bag over his shoulder.
Reese opened the bag containing the piece of scented material and let Buster reacquaint himself with it. Before she had time to close the bag and tuck it away, he was off and leading them down the road once more. She scrambled to shoulder her bag and follow as the others did the same. A few sighs and grunts from behind indicated that everyone was struggling as much as she was.
Chapter Six
Losing radio contact and the ability to communicate with the others at the motel weighed heavily on Vince’s mind. He could tell it bothered John as well by the look of disappointment on his face when the radio check had failed. They were truly on their own out here, and the plan seemed to make less sense with every monotonous step forward.
Was it really a good idea to go after Ryan? Maybe they should have thought this through a little more. Although Vince couldn’t think of a better plan of action right now, he started doubting this one and began to find flaws in it. That fact that he was tired, hot, and generally miserable didn’t help matters any.
Last time they stopped to rest, Vince had considered the idea of sending Cy to retrieve a vehicle and then at least drive back this far. That way, they would have a car for their return trip. His biggest hang-up was sending Cy back alone and, once again, the inability to communicate with anyone. Vince decided it was best to stick together and see this through. The trek back with Ryan would be difficult. For better or worse, though, they were committed to the plan now, and Vince couldn’t help but think that with every step in this direction, they were a step farther from the motel and the relative safety of town.
When he and the others arrived at the looters’ camp or wherever they were staying, with any luck they would be drunk and sleeping it off. Hopefully it wasn’t too much farther. The plan wouldn’t work if they couldn’t make it back to the motel with Ryan by morning. Once the looters woke up and realized he was gone, the gig would be up and they would certainly launch an all-out attack on Cloverdale.
He was really hoping to have communication with the motel and have the option of calling for help and maybe a ride back, if it came to that. He still had the flare, but that was the last resort. Not only would it give away their position, but it would also force whoever came from the motel to attempt a blind rescue.
Without the radios, they wouldn’t be able to let the others know what they were heading into or what they were up against. And even with the flare, a rescue attempt from the motel would be difficult. It wasn’t like the flare would tell the others exactly where they were, just that they needed help.
Vince shook his head as he began to poke more and more holes in their plan to rescue Ryan. They were all tired, and maybe they had reacted too hastily to the kidnapping. More than anything, Tom’s and Beverly’s emotions had steered this course of action, but it wasn’t like they had a choice in the matter. They all knew that handing over their supplies to the looters wasn’t a viable option.
As Vince wrestled with his thoughts, he nearly walked into Reese, who was in front of him and had stopped dead in her tracks. Vince could tell something was wrong by her body language alone.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Buster hears something. Look.” She pointed. Vince angled his headlamp to see down the road a ways and spotted Buster standing still on the shoulder of the road. The dog wasn’t sniffing at the ground anymore. Instead, he was focused on some unseen point in the distance. Then they all heard a car approaching.
“Car!” John whispered the warning as loudly as he dared. “Get off the road now.”
“Headlamps off!” Vince added.
“Buster, come here! Buster, here now!” Reese called out. Buster looked back at her and paused before letting out a low growl, then reluctantly scurried back to the group, periodically checking over his shoulder as he obeyed her command. The rest of them scattered like ants. Everyone but Tom ran to the right-hand shoulder and continued into the undergrowth.
When Vince realized that Tom had run to the opposite side of the road, it was too late to call him over to join them. The approaching vehicle was already too close and starting to illuminate the road beyond the next turn. It was too risky to have him change his position. Of all people in the group, Tom was not the one Vince wanted on his own right now.
Tom was consumed with hatred for the looters and wasn’t thinking clearly. Vince was afraid that his emotions would get the best of him and that he would act out, but without any way to talk to him, they had to hope for the best. With any luck, Tom would keep his cool. Vince and John traded glances and shared a look of concern.
“Great, I hope he can keep it together,” John said.
“Why did he go that way?” Cy asked. Reese had a tight grip on Buster’s collar and had coaxed him into lying down beside her. Now they were all on their stomachs behind a thicket of musk thistle, an invasive species of plant that Vince had struggled to eradicate from his property for years. The spiny leaves made it difficult to handle without gloves and even more uncomfortable to hide in, but Vince was grateful for the cover it provided at the moment.
As the car approached, Vince was temporarily blinded by the headlights, and in an attempt to save his night vision, he closed his eyes as the beam of light crossed over their position. When he reopened them, he realized how slow the car was going and could see that it was an old Lincoln Continental. Vince had to remind himself to breathe as he watched the car, hoping it would continue on its way without incident. But to his horror, it came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the road, right where they had been standing moments ago.
Vince heard the rev of the engine shift to idle and saw the red glow of the brake lights diminish. He glanced down the line at John, Cy, and Reese and held his hand out to indicate that they should all remain still and not take any action. They nodded in agreement, and Vince turned his attention back to the car as the driver’s door swung open with a loud metallic groan.
A man in a baseball hat stepped out of the car and stood there for a moment, looking around in every direction. He was searching for something, but what? Why had they stopped here of all places? Vince’s heart began to race as he wondered if the man had seen them running for cover. But Vince and the others were well off the road by the time they came around the corner, so there was no way they were spotted.
The man left the door open and walked around it, making his way to the
front of the car. He bent over to pick something up off the road.
“What is it?” a voice from inside the car called out. The man in the hat didn’t answer and instead held up the item for his passenger to see. Vince couldn’t tell what it was, but at least he knew the reason they had stopped. At first, he was relieved to know the car hadn’t stopped because they had been spotted. But that feeling passed when the man in the hat turned to face the headlights and Vince saw what he was holding.
The man had one of the AR-15 magazines that John had given Tom. The passenger swung his door open and got out slowly; he was drinking a bottle of something. He tilted the bottle back and drained the last of its contents before he acknowledged the man in the hat again.
“I can’t tell what that is.” His speech was slurred.
“It’s a full magazine, idiot,” the man in the hat barked.
“So what? I gotta take a leak while we’re stopped anyway.” The passenger showed no interest in what his friend had found and turned to throw the bottle into the woods. Vince heard it land with a dull thud in the trees behind them. The passenger made his way to the back of the car, and then he staggered over to the shoulder on the opposite side of the road, where he proceeded to relieve himself. In the dim glow of the taillights, Vince saw a holstered pistol on the man’s belt.
“Well, don’t you think that’s a little strange?” the man in the hat called out, clearly irritated with his inebriated passenger’s attitude.
“So somebody dropped a mag. Big deal. Probably one of us.” The passenger swayed as he finished up and adjusted his pants.
“Then why does it have ‘Cloverdale Sheriff’s Department’ written on it?” the driver hollered back. Vince slid his shotgun close to his side as he glanced at John, who was way ahead of him.
“This is going downhill fast,” John whispered. There was no way this was going to end well.
Chapter Seven