by Tara Ellis
The week before, it had taken Tom’s group a little over a day to travel from the outlaw’s camp to the ranch. However, they were at the tail end of a long trip and also stopped when it got dark. He knew that if the desperados were motivated enough, it was possible they’d reach the farm first. In spite of that, Tom hadn’t lost hope until the first shots echoed through the valley.
They’d just reached town and were barreling down Main Street. Although it was early, there were plenty of people around and they were able to recruit a couple of them, including Chief Martinez and the deputy left on duty.
The fire chief galloped up next to Tom, his horse fresh and full of energy. “You can take my mount,” he offered. “We’ll be close behind you.”
Lilly reluctantly came to a stop at Tom’s insistence, and he had no doubt the horse knew something important was happening. She snorted at him and tossed her head as he dismounted. “It’s just for a couple miles,” he promised her while resting a hand briefly on her nose.
“Bishop told us it was the military who sent these guys on the trail to your farm,” Fire Chief Martinez said, scowling. “Now they’re using criminals to do their dirty work?”
Tom hesitated with his foot in a stirrup of Martinez’s horse. He’d had a lot of time to think about all the different scenarios during the long hours of the night. None of it made much sense and was a disturbing turn of events. “Dillinger is a calculated man,” Tom explained, swinging up onto the gelding’s back. “So I don’t see this as a desperate move, or because he didn’t have enough of his own men.”
He pulled the horse’s head around to aim him back up the street as Bishop and the other riders caught up. Tom wasn’t about to sit around and chat, so he spurred the horse into action before finishing the conversation. He’d already come to the conclusion that the ordered raid was likely a means to an end that involved less risk for Dillinger if it wasn’t successful.
Tom’s anger flared again and fresh rage made his head pound. The corporal wanted Mercy and this was a way to weaken them, but it was more than that. Dillinger also wanted revenge for what happened at the FEMA camp and Tom was his target. It was personal.
Another shot jerked him from his thoughts and Tom was about to find out how fast the horse could go when someone ran out into the road from the trees to the west.
“Help!” Chloe screamed, holding her arm up and waving it frantically at the approaching riders. Her other hand was weighed down by a rifle.
Tom’s breath caught when he recognized the girl, and the first thing he noticed was the blood on her hands and face. “Chloe!” he shouted back, reining his horse in only feet away from her.
“They’re there,” she gulped, sucking in air and trying desperately to form more words. “The outlaws. At…the farm.”
“We know,” Bishop said as he jumped down next to her. Carefully, he took the weapon and put an arm around her shoulders. Tom recognized that she was in shock, but they didn’t have time to be gentle with her.
“How many are there?” Tom demanded, ignoring the look Bishop gave him. “How did you get away, and whose blood is that?”
“Tom!” Bishop said, his voice rising. “One question at a time, or she isn’t going to be able to tell us anything.” Handing the rifle off to Sheriff Waters, he took Chloe by the shoulders and leaned forward to look her in the eyes. “Take a breath, Chloe. You’re safe now. We need to know what’s going on up there so we can help.”
“I shot someone,” she said, her eyes widening. Chloe glanced over at the sheriff, as if worried he’d arrest her. “I think I might have killed him.”
“You did what you had to,” Bishop reassured her.
Tom glanced anxiously back up the road, unsettled by the lack of gunfire. It could mean that there wasn’t anyone left to shoot at. They needed to keep moving.
“I did!” Chloe replied, refocusing on Bishop. “I had to. They shot Danny and were surrounding the barn. I tried to stop them.”
Tom’s throat tightened and he barely restrained himself from getting off the horse and shaking the girl for more answers. “Danny’s been shot? Where’s Ethan and Mom?”
“Her ear,” Chloe muttered, staring blankly at Tom and sounding dazed again. “She said it was just her ear, but it was bleeding so much. I saw Ethan and Sam,” she rushed to add, like she suddenly remembered something important. “They came up behind the other guys and started shooting at them, so they backed off. That was when I ran. Danny made me. She said I had to go for help. You need to help them. Hurry!”
“Give her Lilly,” Tom barked at Martinez. “Go to Patty’s, Chloe. You’ll be safe there. Tell Patty and Caleb what’s happening.”
Tom didn’t wait for confirmation that his orders were being followed. Reaching out to where Lilly stood, he yanked his rifle from the scabbard as his horse reacted to his kick and leapt forward. A half-mile from where their long, private drive veered into the woods, he pulled up and headed for an unmarked trail. Looking back, he saw that Bishop and Waters were on his heels and was reassured by their shared expression. They were two men he wanted by his side when heading into battle, and he knew they were committed to protecting the same people he loved.
The implications behind the attack extended far beyond the ranch. If they didn’t stop them here, it would be seen as a sign of weakness, and the town of Mercy would be even more vulnerable.
They had to make a stand, and it was his responsibility as both the owner of the ranch and now the mayor to send a strong message to Dillinger. Miller Ranch wouldn’t be overrun like Duke’s, and the town of Mercy was not going to become his next refugee camp.
Tree branches slapped at Tom’s face and his hat was blown off his head as the storm seemed to let out one final, furious breath before unleashing the rain. Amidst a crashing volley of thunder and the sudden curtain of rain, three more rapid shots underscored it all, causing Tom to smile. He knew he must have looked maniacal as he crashed through the woods, weapon raised, but he didn’t care. The gunfire meant there was still a fight to be won, and they were about to join it.
Chapter 5
JAMES
Master Sergeant, US Marines, 1st Force Reconnaissance
Trek Thru Trouble Office, Central Montana
Jay dropped his pack onto the floor of the waiting area in the Trek Thru Trouble office, and scowled at James. “This doesn’t smell right.”
James withheld comment on his friend’s observation and instead kicked at his gear. “Just make sure the team’s ready to move in a half-hour. We’ll be rendezvousing with the helo and pushing our luck on how far she’ll take us.”
Gunnery Sergeant Jay Terrell smacked his lips before standing at attention. “Yes, sir, Sarge.” As James turned to go, his friend grabbed ahold of his arm to stop him. “At least find out what’s going on here. Because we both know it’s not all about redeeming lost souls.”
Senator Jenson walked in through the front door and paused when she saw the two men. “Is there a problem?”
She was good at reading people, James acknowledged. He had to give her that. “No, Senator,” he lied. “Just finalizing our plans. We’ll be underway in thirty minutes.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about leaving Nathan here,” she said, studying James. “I’d rather keep him with us.”
James tried to maintain a neutral expression, but it was hard for him not to react. The woman might have a knack for picking up on things, though he kept having to explain simple logistics to her. “Hawk’s injury will heal, but if he comes with us now, he’ll slow us down and become a liability.” When the senator continued to stare at him without comment, James proceeded with what he thought was only obvious. “The helo is already on fumes, so we’ll be lucky to make it halfway to Mercy. That means we’ll be walking for upwards of two days, which Hawk is clearly unable to do. That’s why he has to stay here.”
“I understand all of that,” Senator Jenson said slowly. Why she was irritated with him, James hadn’t a cl
ue. “I thought soldiers had a code of honor about never leaving a man behind. I don’t feel right abandoning him here.”
James rolled his eyes and huffed once, no longer caring about hurting her feelings. “We aren’t in the middle of a battle and he’s not being deserted. I’m not about to bring those two kids with us and we can’t leave them here alone. We need Hicks, so Hawk offered to stay here. It’s safe, Senator, and it’s better for everyone.”
“Oh.” Senator Jenson crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. “Well, why didn’t Lucas just tell me that in the first place?”
Now it all made sense. “Sergeant O’Grady isn’t known for being the best at communicating.” James glared at Lucas as he stepped in behind the senator and gave them all an innocent look.
“What’d I do now?” he asked.
James turned his back on the ensuing conversation between the two men, which was sure to be full of insults and crude jokes. He almost felt bad for leaving the senator with them. Almost.
Leaving the front lobby, he traveled down a short hall with a couple of offices opening off of it, and into a larger, central room. It was set up like a locker room, with bench seating and rows of cabinets for storing gear. The door on the opposite side led to a kitchen and communal eating area, and beyond that were a couple of dorm rooms. It was an impressive setup. According to the rushed tour Hicks gave them the night before, it was designed to house all of the guides throughout the summer. It also served as a layover point for the kids before they left on their hikes, which sometimes lasted for several days.
James could care less about the hiking company. He needed to know what his father was involved in, and he was done playing games with the captain. Or rather, Hicks, as he was intent on calling himself.
They’d spent the night on rotating shifts to patrol the area between the building and the helo to watch for any movement. James had spent the first half of the evening staring into the dark woods. Then he crashed for a few hours in the dorm, knowing he wouldn’t be any good without some sleep. Hicks had obviously gone out of his way to avoid him since daybreak and James was about to call the man out in front of everyone. He was getting to the point where he wasn’t worried about whether information was top secret or not. They’d moved well beyond that formality.
James stomped loudly through the dorms. Ignoring the two teen boys sitting on their bunks, he opened the door into the counselors’ sleeping quarters without knocking. Hicks looked up as he entered and didn’t seem surprised. James slammed the door behind him.
The captain pointed at the door and scowled. “The theatrics really aren’t necessary, Sergeant. I know you have questions. I was hoping to make contact with your father this morning so I could get clearance to—”
“Screw clearance!” James shouted, taking another step into the room. “I know you’ve been holed up in here for a while, Hicks, so I’ll cut you some slack. But it’s time for a reality check. My whole unit is AWOL after disobeying orders from a Four-star General who is currently in charge of what remains of our country. I’ve got a kidnapped US Senator in my possession, and I need your help to locate my father, who somehow has ties to a geneticist and this place,” James spat, lifting his arms and gesturing to the room around him. “Now, are you going to tell me what it is, or do I have to tear this place apart? Because I will, starting with you.”
Hicks came out from behind the desk he’d been standing at and leaned casually against the front, crossing his arms. His demeanor was calm, but James recognized the look in his eyes, the way he positioned his hips, and how he placed his feet. He might have appeared relaxed to a casual observer, but James knew he was ready to react if necessary. The man had guts. Before he could test his true grit, he noticed a radio sat on the desk, and the comment Hicks made sunk in. “Wait a minute. You’ve been in contact with my dad?”
Hicks smiled. “Finally, a sign of intelligence.”
“Can we skip the normal insults and posturing to find out whose is bigger, and cut to the chase?” James demanded.
“I’ve been making regular contact with him for a week.” The captain leaned over and grabbed at some papers. “We determined it was best for me to stay here at The Farm, and for him to stay hidden in Mercy. While he made it onto the military’s radar, our cover here doesn’t appear to be blown. The identities we use at Trek Thru Trouble are buried as deep as possible, with no way to make a connection. He never should have told you about it.”
“It’s a good thing he did,” James retorted. “And how are you getting your current information?” James asked, his confusion only deepening.
“I got the ham radio operating a couple of days after the gamma-ray burst,” Hicks explained. “One nice thing about the radio was that at least during the initial confusion I was able to garner some valuable information without having to identify myself. I have multiple contacts within the military,” he offered, without further explanation.
“You call this place The Farm?”
“It’ll make sense soon,” Hicks said. Opening a drawer, he took out what looked like a digital keycard.
“You said you haven’t had contact with my dad in two days.” James watched as the other man moved to a second door he hadn’t paid any attention to. Opening it, Hicks looked back and gestured for him to follow.
“That’s right. He failed to make our prearranged check-ins and I’ve been scanning hourly since the first miss. I caught some chatter from Malmstrom, though, and it sounds like there might be a move coming soon against Mercy.”
James followed him into what looked like an anteroom of a containment facility. It was only about ten square feet and had a bench with hooks above it on which lab coats hung. “What sort of move?”
Hicks shrugged. “Unknown. It’s hard to get much detail with Q-code when you’re scanning and the reception already sucks. Except you know as well as I do that any coordinated military action involving a community is bad news right now, in our current state.” He held the card up to a scanner secured to the wall on the side of the door and James was surprised when he heard a beep and a green light flashed above them.
“You’ve got power?”
Hicks looked back at him with a crooked smile. “The Farm does.”
James leaned back and took ahold of the outer door, pushing it back and forth slightly. It was much heavier than it should have been. He stooped and examined the door frame, then rapped his knuckles against the inner walls. “Metal. This is EMP hardened?”
“Among other things.” Hicks reached beyond the door and a light turned on, illuminating a flight of stairs. He began the descent and then stopped on the fourth step to see if James was following. “You coming? If you want answers, you’ll find them down here.”
“My last few experiences with secret underground bunkers haven’t gone all that great,” James replied, following anyway.
It was a deep stairwell, with two turns and platforms before ending at another anteroom similar to the one over forty feet above them. The space was too small for his liking. James grew more agitated when Hicks stopped in front of the next doorway and stepped aside without opening it.
“Come on,” he urged, trying hard not to sound anxious. “I thought you didn’t like theatrics.”
Hicks smiled again and pointed to a strange-looking contraption on the wall. The captain was enjoying the odd tour way too much. “Breathe into that.”
“What?” James stared at the square metallic device. It had something resembling a circular speaker with a two-inch diameter on the front of it, and that was all.
“There’s a very short list of people who have access to The Farm, Sergeant,” Hicks said. “Breathe into it if you want to see what’s inside.”
Feeling silly, James bent over and blew onto the speaker. For a couple of seconds, nothing happened. Then, there was a deep, mechanical rumbling and the door slowly slid back into the wall. Long banks of fluorescent lights began to wink to life beyond the entrance as James looked over at Hi
cks. He frowned. “That BS traffic stop outside the base a few months ago that ended in a breathalyzer?”
Hicks shrugged again. “I had nothing to do with it.”
“I knew that felt like a setup,” James muttered as he stepped into what could best be described as an endless chamber of filing cabinets. Fancy filing cabinets. The room was so vast that he couldn’t tell how far it extended in any direction. It was massive. “I don’t get it. What is all of this?”
“A seed vault,” Hicks said without any preamble. “A very advanced, state-of-the-art, never-before-created seed vault.”
James wandered about twenty feet inside the vault and stared at his surroundings, utterly confused. If he’d been forced to make a list of all the potential types of covert projects he thought his dad was involved in, he would have never, never suggested a seed vault. “I don’t get it.”
“I don’t expect you to,” Hicks said without any surprise or contempt. “I’ll make this very simple. Have you ever heard of the doomsday vault?”
James turned around to face Hicks. “I think so. It’s in another country, though. Right?”
Hicks nodded. “Yes, and it’s nothing compared to what we’ve got down here.” When James continued to stare blankly at him, he continued. “About five years ago your father was approached and made part of a very small, select design team. It involved Dr. Pamela Watson because she is a leading plant and animal geneticist. This vault,” Hicks said with enthusiasm while waving a hand, “is so much more than seed storage. It represents mankind’s greatest chance of surviving the years to come.”
James tried to focus on the implications behind what was being divulged and found he was having a hard time, considering the scope of everything else that had and was still unfolding. Genetically modified seeds and animals. “Modified for what?”
“To withstand an unstable environment.” Hicks turned back to the door, the tour apparently over. “Essentially, what we’ll be facing once the atmosphere has settled into its new norm. Different pH levels, less water, altered temperatures.”