Eric reached the side trail he was looking for at around at 1100 hours. As he’d deduced from the map, it was much smaller and steeper than the main divide trail, which was almost a road in comparison. Walking it was the only sensible thing to do, especially in the dark, but Eric didn’t mind. He was already saddle-sore from being unaccustomed to riding, but he could out-walk most people in any kind of terrain, and having the horses meant he didn’t have to carry anything on his back. He walked fast when he was moving, as it kept him warmer, but he still took the precaution of stopping at regular intervals to look and listen.
Before daylight came, he’d crossed the road he’d seen on the map and was winding his way up a switchback route to the pass north of his destination. He found a hidden spot among the rocks halfway up to rest for two or three hours in the midmorning sun, and then pressed on, determined to locate the militia camp before nightfall, and then approach closer under the cover of darkness. Eric figured the nearer he got to the camp, the more likely it was that there could be security patrols or other activity out beyond the perimeter. With that in mind, he decided to leave the horses on the north side of the pass, unburdened and hobbled the way Shauna had shown him so that they could graze freely but not wander off too far. With the saddle and his other gear stashed among the rocks, Eric set off on foot to crest the pass and begin the long descent down the other side. The trail there followed a dry stream bed until he had dropped another thousand feet to the first of several live springs. He knew the camp was supposed to be near this same stream, another couple thousand feet lower where it was much bigger. The road ended there where the wilderness boundary line began.
Eric was sure that the road would be barricaded and guarded, probably a good distance out from the camp itself. Whether they would take the precaution of posting guards along the creek, both upstream and down, he didn’t know, but from that point forward he moved with much more caution. It was too risky to simply follow the trail that roughly paralleled the creek, so instead, Eric stayed on the western ridge above it, picking his way down while keeping in the cover of the trees and other vegetation as much as possible. That last few miles took him all afternoon as a result, but he was certain he’d not been seen as he finally reached a rock outcrop from which he could see the meadow at the end of the road. Eric scanned the grassy, open area with his binoculars, expecting to see more tents, vehicles and armed men, but there was nothing manmade or moving in sight, and he wondered if he’d come to the wrong place. He knew the Matthews guy could have been lying to him, although he felt he was getting the truth as the man knew he had nothing left to lose. Eric continued to search with the glasses, and even though he saw nothing, the one thing he noticed was that it was quiet; except for the noisy racket of crows somewhere in the distance. Something was off about this place, but until he investigated further, he wouldn’t know what it was.
Eric made his way downhill until he reached the creek and hopping across in several big steps onto exposed boulders, he crossed it and then started up the other side to try and get a view of the road. As he topped the crest of the small ridge on that side, the smell of death reached his nostrils just before he noticed the flocks of crows clustered in the tall pines below. Hundreds more of them were on the ground across the road, which he could see now, and when Eric brought the binoculars into focus on the scene before him, he suddenly understood why they were there. Bodies were scattered everywhere among the rocks, twisted and contorted, some whole and others not so much. Farther back among the trees, Eric could now see bullet-riddled and burned-out pickup trucks as well as ATVs like the ones at the other camp, along with the blackened rubble of several structures. He studied the scene long enough to convince himself that nothing living but the scavengers was among them, and then Eric made his way down to the road.
He’d found the right place all right, but not before someone else did. Eric walked past the first of the dead he came to, all of them men that he assumed had been members of the militia. Whoever had killed them had picked up their weapons and magazines but had left the bodies to rot where they fell. They’d been like that a few days, Eric was sure, but not long enough that the birds and coyotes were done mopping up. As he moved among them, the noisy crows eyed him from a safe distance, resenting him for disturbing their grisly feast. Eric’s heart was racing as he moved towards the middle of what had been the camp. Had the prisoners being held here met the same fate as their guards? Eric didn’t know but judging from what he could piece together of it, a larger force had attacked the camp from the ground. There was nothing like flattened trees to indicate that an airstrike or heavy ordinance had been used, but grenades and other portable explosives might have come into play, judging by the blown off limbs and missing heads of some of the bodies. He found various metal objects that survived the fires that had destroyed the tents and supplies, but the attackers had been thorough in picking up any weapons or ammunition that may still be usable. From the looks of it, Eric was beginning to think it was a military operation. He couldn’t imagine another insurgent group strong enough to attack this one with both the overwhelming force and precision needed to pull this off.
He found what he was looking for near the far end of the encampment; a large, pavilion-sized area with blackened metal poles still standing, the canvas coverings making up the roof and walls burned away. Razor wire fencing surrounded the whole thing, except for one side that had been pulled away. Eric knew this was likely an enclosure to house prisoners, and he steeled himself for what he might find as he stepped past the wire to examine several blackened bodies he saw inside. If Megan was among them, his journey would end then and there. It was a hard thing to think about, but Eric knew all too well the reality of conflict and that collateral damage was to be expected even if whoever attacked this place wasn’t out to kill everyone present. But though there was one female among the dead, she definitely wasn’t Megan and from what he could tell, she didn’t fit Colleen’s description either. Eric walked out of the enclosure feeling a huge sense of relief that he didn’t find his worst nightmare. After sweeping the rest of the entire camp area, checking each and every one of the bodies, he found none that he thought could be Megan’s friend Aaron either.
It was growing dark by the time Eric was finished, and he was anxious to leave that place and return to where he’d left his horses. On the way back, he had a lot of time to think about what he’d seen. His best estimate based on the state of the bodies he’d found was that the attack had probably taken place at least three days prior and maybe up to a week. Whoever had done it was long gone and apparently had no interest in occupying the area afterward, giving Eric more reason to believe it was a military operation targeting that particular group. It was surprising though, considering the location. From what he’d gathered from the soldiers he’d traveled with earlier; the mountain areas were mostly off their radar. Eric figured the only explanation was that this group had initiated some extreme action that drew their interest enough to merit such a coordinated operation. Whoever they were, they’d been thorough and had certainly gotten the job done.
Eric knew that just because he didn’t find Megan, Colleen or Aaron among the dead didn’t mean they hadn’t been there though. While the bodies he did find in the enclosure were no doubt some of the prisoners, that didn’t mean that there weren’t others that were rescued or taken into custody by the attackers. But if that were the case, then how would he ever find out, much less find them? The other possibility, of course, was that Megan and Aaron had somehow eluded the militia members and made their way through the mountains without being captured. If so, Eric figured they may be closing in on the reservation in New Mexico soon, if they weren’t already there, so he had a decision to make. Would it be worth his time to go back looking for clues as to where the attacking force came from and where they went afterward? Or should he continue on as he originally planned, and ride to the one place that he knew was Megan’s planned destination?
Eric sle
pt a few hours after returning to his horses, and the next morning he was hiking back down to the site of the attack, leading Maggie and Sally down the narrow trail. He had no need to walk amongst the dead again to look for more clues in what had been the camp, but he did circle wider beyond the perimeter, and as he expected, he found plenty of shell casings back within the trees inside of easy rifle range, most of them 5.56. He found enough to know that the assault had come from two directions, catching the occupants of the camp in a crossfire, and knowing what he did about such operations, Eric figured there’d been more men stationed somewhere along the road to the east to prevent any survivors from escaping in that direction. He could tell that vehicles had been using the road too, but whether the tracks were made by the militia members or the assault team, he couldn’t be sure. He continued to proceed carefully along the road to the east, leading the horses, as he had to go that way anyway to intersect the Divide Trail again in order to continue heading south.
The one thing that bothered him about going on to New Mexico though was the fact that he’d found no sign of Colleen. He still believed that the Matthews guy was telling the truth when he said she was being taken there though. There was no reason to think he’d made it up, especially since he’d found the camp exactly where he said it would be. So, if Colleen wasn’t among the dead, then where was she? Did her absence mean that the soldiers had rescued her and perhaps some of the other people being held there as well? That possibility meant Megan and Aaron could be among them, and it presented Eric with no small amount of doubt, but when he reached the trail, he still decided to go on the theory that Megan had never been captured in the first place. Otherwise, he would lose no telling how much time trying to locate the nearest military post and when he did, it was unlikely that he would be given the information he sought. In fact, it was much more likely that he would be mistaken for one of those militia types himself and shot at on sight. At the very least, he would be disarmed and detained if he approached any such place, creating yet another delay to add to the countless others he’d endured already. Eric decided he didn’t need that. He would trust his instincts and go to the reservation first, and if Megan wasn’t there, then he’d consider his other options.
Thirteen
MEGAN BRANSON KNEW SHE was taking a big chance by making contact with the soldiers, but she didn’t know what else to do. There was nothing she could do for Aaron without help, and she didn’t think she could possibly reach his own people before it was too late. And even if she did make it there, she wasn’t sure they would believe her, if they were even willing to talk to her at all. Aaron had said he was quite sure the reservation would be off-limits to outsiders by now, which was part of the reason he was taking her there. As long as the tribe stayed on their own lands and didn’t get involved in the affairs of the federal government and the groups fighting against it and each other, he felt sure they would be left alone. The reservation would be a safe refuge for them both, and Aaron assured her she would be welcomed as long as she was with him. But how could they have known what they would encounter along the route? Megan had never been under any delusions that the journey south through the mountains would be easy, much less completely safe, but with Aaron’s knowledge of the wilderness, she’d felt their chances of getting through were good. She’d already seen his competence as a hunter and woodsman on the trek from Boulder, and then during their stay at the ranch. She trusted they would both survive because of his abilities, but now she was alone and no one but her knew or cared about his plight. Megan was determined not to let him down, even if it meant putting herself at great risk.
As long as Aaron was being held against his will, Megan couldn’t even think about her ultimate goal of getting home to Florida. Even if she wanted to try, she knew soldiers like these would stop her. They didn’t care that she was 2000 miles away from home or if she ever made it back or not. Their task was to secure the roadways wherever they were posted, and the rumors were that was in strategic locations along all the major highways in the country. Megan was approaching this checkpoint from the wilderness though, working her way down a steep trail winding out of a roadless area where the authorities were absent for now. She hoped they would take an interest in the information she had to give them, but she knew it was a gamble whether or not they would hear her out. In order to have a chance of talking before she was arrested, she knew she had to approach in a non-threatening manner. That meant going unarmed; something she was loath to do these days, but she kept telling herself that what she was doing, she was doing for Aaron. He had already risked everything to help her, and now he was paying for it. Doing the same for him was the least she could do.
Megan paused to study the scene on the roadway below as she gathered the courage to go forward. The roadblock on this two-lane highway consisted of two large military supply trucks parked perpendicular across it, bumper to bumper, as well as three of the rugged off-road vehicles Megan knew were Humvees. A small portable building set up nearby undoubtedly served as a base for the men stationed there, and Megan doubted the vehicles were moved much, if ever. The purpose was to prevent unauthorized traffic flow, and if what she’d heard was true, the reasoning was that this would disrupt terrorist and insurrectionist activity by limiting their mobility. Of course, it also resulted in shutting down the economy and interfering with all the activities of innocent civilians at the same time, and it was why she and her friends had come all this way from Boulder using trails through the mountains. Now, she had to come out in the open to face the very thing she’d gone to such effort to avoid, and it would either work out in the end or it would not.
The only weapon she had on her was the .45 automatic pistol that Vicky’s grandfather had given her when she and Aaron told him of their plans to head to New Mexico. Megan had felt bad about taking it, but the kind old man had said he had lots of guns and ammo, and that this particular pistol was one he wouldn’t miss. He’d given Aaron a .30-30 hunting rifle as well, and both of them enough ammo to see them through. Having the pistol made Megan feel better, especially now that she was alone, but it had done her no good when Aaron was taken. Armed or not, the odds weren’t in her favor to intervene, and Megan had done the only thing she could do at the time. She had saved herself so that she could escape and figure out a way to save Aaron.
She unfastened her belt and removed the holstered pistol, hiding it in a crevice of rock near a tall lightning-struck and splintered spruce that she hoped she’d be able to easily locate again if and when she returned. Then, she stood and resolutely began walking down the trail, no longer attempting to stay out of sight of the soldiers. When she reached an open area at the turn of another switchback, Megan stopped and waved her hands overhead, shouting at the men below as she did. The soldiers weren’t expecting an approach from that angle, and for a second, she was frozen in fear as she saw them scramble to move behind their vehicles and saw a swivel-mounted machine gun atop one of the Humvees swing around in her direction. Megan kept her hands high over her head, afraid to move and totally at the mercy of the men behind those guns until they decided what to do. Then she heard a voice address her from a loudspeaker from one of the vehicles:
“DO NOT MOVE! KEEP YOUR HANDS OVER YOUR HEAD AND STAY WHERE YOU ARE!”
Megan did exactly as she was told, watching and waiting as four men with rifles started up the slope in her direction, all of them scanning the rocks and vegetation surrounding her, no doubt wary of an ambush.
“I’m alone!” Megan yelled to them, as they drew near, all of them covering her with their weapons.
When the soldiers closed in, two of them kept their distance, still looking for signs of accomplices, while the other two moved near to either side, ordering her to drop to her knees at gunpoint and then to put her hands behind her back. Megan felt her wrists squeezed together as a plastic zip tie was locked into place around them, and then the two men pulled her to her feet, one on each side gripping her upper arms.
“Th
is is a restricted area with no trespassing allowed,” one of the men said. “You’re lucky you weren’t shot on sight!”
“I didn’t know that, sir,” Megan said. “I’ve been in the backcountry on the trails. I haven’t been anywhere near any of the restricted highways and roads in weeks. But I came this way looking for help. That’s why I waved to you guys.”
“You’re under arrest now, young lady. I don’t want to hear your story. You can tell it to my sergeant before we call in for transport to have you processed into the system. Let’s go!”
Megan knew better than to argue and she had no choice but to follow orders as the soldier prodded her from behind with his rifle barrel in the small of her back. She was scared now, wondering if she’d made a terrible mistake, but she already knew from the tone in this man’s voice and the demeanor of his three companions, that further questions now would get her nowhere. Her best bet was with this sergeant he spoke of, so she focused her attention now on getting down the steep rocky trail without falling, a task in itself with her hands tied behind her.
Perseverance Page 13