by Ray Wench
Mark raised the shotgun and covered them as they entered the woods. “Keep moving. The car is straight through there.” He waited until they had enough time to reach the car before following them. They were piling in as he arrived. Mark shut Maggie’s door then slid in next to Alyssa.
He knew the route but purposely went a different way in case they picked up a tail. It took twenty minutes before he felt it was safe enough to continue to their destination. At the farmhouse, Mark drove around back and parked. Maggie nodded her approval. “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” she said.
They unloaded the car and Mark left them there to head back and start the transfer process. It would be a long, arduous process unless he could somehow rid them of their watchers.
Back at the house, Mark found that Lynn and the remaining kids had made huge headway with the packing. The van was at least halfway full and some of the backup generators were in the bed of the pickup truck. Even with all that transportation, it would take several trips to move everything. The problem would be getting the trucks out of the garage without tipping their hand to the watchers. As Mark loaded the car for a second run, he plotted how best to make that happen.
The second trip, he took Ruth back with him. As the others unloaded the car, Mark went to the garage. He had been concerned about how to get the remaining generators and other large items out of the house. Once the van and pickup were out of the garage, there would be no going back. The next problem would be hauling the generators across the backyard and through the woods. The remedy for that was to take James back to his house. Mark drove the pickup and had James drive the car for extra hauling space. Mark hated leaving the women unprotected, but, with everything they’d been through over the past month, they should be capable of defending themselves. After a few defensive suggestions and words of caution, James and Mark returned to the house.
The third trip took a long time with the two of them hauling the last three generators, two propane fueled salamanders, and the two folding cots. It was while carrying a jammed-full extra-large cooler between the two men that they hit their first snag. As they emerged from the woods a man walked toward them, with his head down. He was unaware of them until they stepped into the open. Mark could have kicked himself for getting complacent and not checking before emerging from cover.
For several seconds they all stood, staring at each other. Mark was about to try and talk to the man when he reached behind him for his gun. Mark dropped his side of the cooler and ran for the woods while trying to pull out his gun. James had been slower. The cooler flopped down at an angle catching him across the ankle, tripping him. As he hit the ground, he kicked his way free of the cooler and made a desperate attempt to crawl for cover.
The man pulled his gun free, first swinging it toward Mark. When he saw there was no chance of a shot there, he turned toward James. Lining up his shot he pulled the trigger a fraction after Mark’s bullet ripped through him, throwing his shot up into the trees. Mark ran out of the woods toward the dying man. Kicking the gun clear, he looked down at the man. He was in severe pain and losing blood. He wouldn’t last long. Mark closed his eyes to push aside his natural urge to help him, then turned to James.
“Quick, we have to get out of here. Someone was sure to have heard those shots.”
They picked up the cooler and ran with it the best they could. Hefting it up they tossed it on top of the generators. It wasn’t well balanced, but it would have to do.
“Go, and don’t come back. I need to go warn Lynn and Caleb.”
Without waiting for a reply, Mark turned back toward the house. On the way, he grabbed the now dead man and dragged him into the woods. Taking a quick look to make sure the coast was clear this time, he dashed for the house. Once inside, he ran to the garage where Lynn and Caleb still loaded boxes and bags of food into whatever empty spaces were still left.
“Trouble,” Mark exclaimed. “Where’s Darren?”
“In the basement,” Caleb answered.
“What’s happening?” Lynn asked.
“People might be coming. Hide in the van. When you hear a commotion outside, lift the doors and drive off as fast as you can. Caleb, you remember where the farmhouse is?”
“I-I think so.”
“But there’s still a lot left to pack,” Lynn complained.
“It will have to be left behind. Maybe we can sneak back later and get it. It’s too dangerous right now. Drive off and don’t get separated. Hide now.”
With that he spun around and ran. He caught movement outside and heard someone say, “There.”
He raced for the basement door, shutting it loudly behind him. “Darren. Darren, where are you?”
The boy poked his head out the safe room opening. “Here.”
“Get back in there. Hurry.”
There was no mistaking he had been seen. Multiple running footsteps pounded the floor above him. He jumped through the doorway and pulled the panel shut. His pursuit came down the steps in a hurry. Mark placed a finger to his lips for Darren’s benefit. He wondered about the wisdom of trying to ambush them and decided that opening the panel would give him away before he could get off a shot. He motioned Darren to the cave. He was working on removing the vent when he heard an automatic weapon spray the basement. As he looked back into the safe room, bullet holes had punched through the paneling in a chest-high line. If they looked close at them or thought about why the bullets weren’t ricocheting off the walls, they would discover the room. He pulled the cave door shut. The only light came in from the louvers of the vent, making it difficult to see what he was doing. The vent was just wedged in place for quick removal. Still it was a tight fit and had to be done without making noise. Mark worked on lifting one corner at a time a few inches each. Finally, it lifted free.
“I think someone’s in the room,” Darren whispered.
Mark had to be careful not to strike the underside of the deck with the metal frame. He tried to move the vent to one side but from below it was a difficult task. Putting the vent there as an escape route had been a brilliant idea – he just wished he had thought to practice removing it a few times. It scraped the deck before he was able to set it down. More automatic fire riddled the walls. Since the door to the cave was concrete, nothing came through but he knew that at any moment they could be discovered.
He lifted Darren, who snaked through the hole and wiggled to the edge of the deck. Mark jumped up, grabbed the vent’s framework and with maximum effort hoisted himself through the opening. Because of the low clearance he couldn’t leverage himself straight up. Instead, he had to bend and pull himself clear, digging his hands into the ground and pulling hand over hand. He slid the vent back in place then crawled to the edge of the deck. The bottom of the deck was covered by lattice. He had a moment’s panic, berating himself for not having tested and prepared the escape route. The small panels were stapled to the support beams. Mark had to push and wiggle one section to break it free. They crawled from underneath and Mark replaced the lattice. He took a quick peek, making sure it was clear and they bolted for the trees.
Inside the woods, Mark shoved Darren to the ground and stood behind a tree as a short burst of bullets tore through the branches. Mark returned fire then hauled Darren to his feet and they were off running again. They sprinted from the back end of the trees without looking. This time, however, they were alone. Behind them, voices signaled the sound of pursuit. He eyed the car.
This would be close.
Mark jammed the keys into the ignition, started it, and peeled out as the two gunmen emerged from the trees. They opened fire on the fleeing car. Bullets pelted the trunk. Seconds later, buildings blocked the line of sight and no more shots chased them.
An angry rolling lump formed in his stomach as he thought about Lynn and Caleb. He had to get back to them before they were discovered. Panic released as bile at the back of his throat. He had to hurry. He couldn't fail them. Mark wanted to scream his fear. He couldn't lose anothe
r family. Fighting for control he swallowed hard, hoping all emotion would go with it.
Twenty-Two
Mark ripped the wheel turning north on Walden Road and jammed the pedal to the floor. At Erie he turned right, barely slowing, then right again into the subdivision. He needed to draw the gunmen away from Lynn and Caleb so they could make their getaway. .
He rounded the corner of his street and slowed down, not wanting to run headlong into the shooters. All he wanted them to do was catch sight of him and begin pursuit. Up ahead the two men had climbed into a car. Mark floored it, not so much for the speed, but to rev the engine and draw their attention. They had an immediate reaction within the car. The driver, without thinking, opened his door to get out and shoot. Mark veered toward the open door, slamming it shut and just missing the man’s leg.
Mark blasted his horn three times as he drove away, hoping that would be enough signal for Lynn and Caleb to move. Mark checked his mirrors. The car made a U-turn in the street and took up the chase. He was around the next corner before he could see if Lynn and Caleb made their escape.
The subdivision had some short streets and several curved roads that kept them out of view of the pursuing car. Leaving the development in a sharp, uncontrolled turn, Mark accelerated down the back road until he hit Walden again. There, he made a sharp left. A quarter mile farther was the turn for the farmhouse. He hadn’t planned on taking it but when he looked back, there was no sign of pursuit. Making a last-second decision, Mark pulled the wheel right. As far as he could tell they were in the clear, which should have made him relax. But something nagged at him. He shook his head and swore under his breath. They shouldn't have been able to lose them that easy. The chasing car was just too close to them for that. So either Mark had done more damage to the shooter’s car then he thought … or Lynn and Caleb had been discovered.
The more he thought about it, the more afraid for their safety he became. An internal battle waged within him. He had Darren's safety to consider too. Mark decided to go to the farmhouse. While there he could change vehicles and gather whatever weapons he might need to go back and try to rescue them.
He stopped short of the farmhouse and looked behind him to make sure no one was hanging back. Seeing the road empty, he made the turn, pulling up the driveway and around back where the others were waiting for him. The pickup truck had already been unloaded.
Mark hopped out and ran for the house. He went through the assorted weapons laid out on the living room floor. He grabbed a box of 9mm shells for his pistol, a box of shotgun shells and ten rounds for the rifle. He already had the survival knife at his belt. He turned, snatching the binoculars and two bottles of water off the kitchen table, and ran back out.
Darren had already explained what happened. The group stood around and waited for Mark to tell them what he needed them to do.
“I’m taking the truck and going back to see what happened to Lynn and Caleb. It may be nothing, but I need to make sure. The rest of you …”
Just then, a white van raced toward them from the opposite direction Mark had come. Every member of the group scattered and had a gun of some sort, pulled and aimed at the approaching vehicle.
The van barreled closer. It looked out of control, but Caleb was driving it. “Hold your fire!” Mark cautioned.
Caleb swerved around the corner, swinging back equally as hard to turn into the driveway. For a brief instant, it appeared as though the van would flip on its side. Caleb fought the wheel for control. He braked to a skidding stop less than a foot from the back of the car, sending the others scurrying for safety.
Caleb was out the door almost before the van stopped.
“They’ve got her! They’ve got my mom!” His voice frantic, he turned to Mark. “Please, we have to save her.”
Caleb was in a panic. His words were jumbled. Mark shook him. “Settle down. Caleb,” he shouted, starting to feel the same panic. “Calm down and tell me what happened.”
“We-we heard the horn and figured that was the signal. I opened both doors and we drove down the driveway. I turned left and my mom followed, but by the time we got to the main road, a car was following us. I tried to go fast and make sharp turns, but we couldn’t shake them. One of them leaned out the window and started shooting at Mom. I don’t know what happened, but she just stopped and I heard this huge crash. The truck was pushed off the road and the car was locked up underneath it. I saw the guy who was shooting go flying out the window. He rolled and rolled. I didn’t see if he got up.
“I stopped to see if I could help Mom, but she jumped out of the truck and started running. I saw her waving her arms at me to go, but I didn’t want to leave her. I didn’t understand why she was running toward a house instead of toward me. Then I saw another car was coming.
“I thought she was going to try to hide until I could get here and get help. I started driving, but I watched in the mirror. The driver got out and chased her while the other car stopped to help. When I turned the corner, I stopped. I saw the man tackle her.”
Caleb began crying hard. “He was sitting on her and she was fighting him. I stopped. I wanted to go back, but the man motioned for the other guy to come after me, so I drove away.” He fell to the ground and Ruth dropped to hold him. They were both crying.
“She did it on purpose, didn't she?” he said between sobs. “She let them hit her so I could get away.”
Mark knew it was most likely true. What parent wouldn’t sacrifice himself for their child? But she wasn’t dead yet. Bad things would happen to her, things he didn’t want to think about, but they wouldn’t kill her – at least, not right away. He clenched his jaw, knowing what had to be done and where he would have to go to find her.
Just then, their heads lifted as the sound of another vehicle approached. It came from the same direction as Caleb had and moved slowly, as if searching for something.
“That’s the car!” Caleb shouted, pointing at it.
The driver braked; they’d been spotted. Mark could not let this car get away. The driver would come back with a swarm of others. Mark was angry and tired of running. This man had to die.
The car accelerated. Mark, with 9mm in hand, ran around the back of the house heading toward the pine-tree-lined street. He had to cut off this man before he got out of range. Mark broke through the prickly branches, level with the car. His gun was up already and he just pulled the trigger.
Both driver side windows exploded and the car lurched to the side of the road, throwing up gravel from the sloping shoulder. Several rocks hit Mark as he continued to run after the car, keeping up a constant barrage. The driver attempted to right himself as he slipped farther into the drainage ditch that ran along that side of the road. The tail end swerved toward the bottom even as the front tires dug for purchase and began to pull the car out.
Mark closed the distance down to thirty feet. The car was broadside to him as it struggled to rise. He stopped shooting, hoping for a better target. The driver was trying to keep his head down below the level of the door. He stretched a gun out the window and fired several times in Mark’s direction, all the while keeping his foot pinned to the accelerator.
As the car climbed back to the road, Mark stopped ten feet away, put two hands on his gun, and sighted as best he could, praying the man would give him even the tiniest of targets.
The front wheels grabbed the road and lurched forward. The driver was smart enough not to lift his head above the door frame. Mark wasn’t going to get a better chance so he fired into the door until he heard a cry of pain from inside. The man’s body jerked upright, giving Mark a shot at his head. Mark fired twice. The car jumped forward, crossed the road, and then crashed into a pine tree. The wheels continued to spin as Mark advanced on the car. He wasn’t sure how many shots he had left, but couldn’t afford to take his eyes off the man to check.
The far door opened and the man tried to climb out. Mark ran to get around the car before the man could set himself to take a shot.
At the trunk, he stopped to use it for cover. The driver crawled out and fell in the sloping grass facing him. His head and face were covered in blood. He struggled to lift the gun to bring it on target. He had blood streaking into his eyes.
He saw Mark and fired into the ground, unable to lift the barrel higher. Mark drew a bead on the man’s head and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Empty.
The driver looked from side to side. Painful grunts escaped him as he spun. Mark dropped his gun, pulled the knife and advanced. He plunged the knife into the man, piercing his heart.
Mark peeled the gun from the dead man’s hands and stood up. He had to move the car and the body, but there was no time. Lynn’s safety, and possibly her life, depended on how fast he could get to her. The others would have to see to cleaning up the mess. He raced back to the house, horrible memories of Summer assaulting him.
Twenty-Three
Fifteen minutes later, with Caleb directing him, he went searching for Lynn. Mark didn’t want to take the young man. Caleb, however, was determined to help save his mother. He felt responsible for her capture. He climbed in the van and refused to get out.
“Do you understand what we are going to do? Do you know what might happen to us? Are you sure you want to find your mother and know what they might have done to her? You better think real hard about this. I can’t afford to have you freeze up on me out there. It could get us both killed.”
But in the end, the boy could not be dissuaded. His mother had sacrificed herself for him. How could he not do the same? Mark understood and secretly applauded the boy’s intentions, but he would have to emotionally detach himself once they started whatever it was they were going to do. Otherwise, Caleb’s inexperience could get Mark killed.
While they’d argued, the others emptied the van completely, placing the AK-47 in the back with his rifle and a second shotgun. Caleb already carried a handgun. Before they left, Mark made sure James knew to hide the car and body as far from the house as possible and to keep everyone inside until they came back. He didn’t have to say if we come back. He assumed they all understood that.