A few minutes later the sound of Austin Phillips’ voice pierced the silence. Joshua opened his eyes and attuned his senses, trying to hear the conversation. “You six, take the prisoners back to camp and prepare them for transport to Virginia Beach. Everyone else, come with me.” Six agents followed Austin to two white Suburbans bearing the “Federal Protective Service” moniker and an unmarked black Suburban. The three vehicles left the parking lot and took a right at the intersection just past the abandoned store. Two of the remaining agents entered the same unmarked black Suburban in which Joshua and his friends had tried to escape, two more went to a white Suburban, and the final two made their way to the burgundy pickup in which Joshua and the others were imprisoned.
The driver looked at the agent who was going to the passenger side. “Shouldn’t we put the prisoners inside the SUVs?”
“Hell no,” the second agent replied. “Let ‘em enjoy the bumpy ride.” He waved a pistol at the prisoners. “Don’t try anything stupid or we will kill you.”
The white Suburban did a 180-degree turn and headed back down the road toward their captors’ camp, followed by the black Suburban and then the pickup. Joshua gritted his teeth as the driver jerked the pickup violently, sending him and the other prisoners careening back and forth.
The ride smoothed out as the vehicle began traversing the two-lane mountain road. Joshua closed his eyes. Lord, help us make it out of this situation. His eyes remained closed as he meditated on their predicament. Joshua opened his eyes when felt the vehicle decelerate, slowing almost to a stop. Then it veered to the right. Then he heard a sound. A strange sound. A familiar sound. “Eeeeeeeeeee! Eeeeeeeeeee! Eeeeeeeeee!”
Joshua pursed his lips and leaned forward, trying to visually confirm the origin of the noise. Then he heard one of the agents yell, “Get out of the road, you damn freak!” Just as the agent finished speaking Joshua laid eyes on the same strange individual he had seen on the trail immediately prior to his first encounter with Mordecai Stone.
The man, who appeared to be in his mid-twenties, was leaning against a light-blue Ford pickup truck that appeared to be at least 35 years old. He was overweight and had trimmed his hair so short that his head bore what resembled a five o’clock shadow. The man’s glasses were so thick Joshua wondered if they were bulletproof. He sported a pair of brown pants and a green t-shirt with white letters that said “Paddle faster, I hear banjo music.” That’s fitting, Joshua thought.
The chorus of “Eeeeeeeee! Eeeeeeeee!” continued as the caravan of Suburbans passed a truck stopped in the middle of the road. Joshua snickered, and Rebecca shot him a perplexed look. The convoy rounded three more curves, then settled into a short straightaway.
WHOOOOSH! A familiar, piercing sound penetrated the mountain air. Joshua instantly recognized the sound: he had last heard it when an AIS rocket-propelled grenade had destroyed Perry Edwards’ Dodge Ram pickup eight months earlier. The white Homeland Security SUV leading the group erupted into a fireball, sending shrapnel into the sky. Joshua’s stomach twisted into knots as the other prisoners frantically tried to loosen their restraints. I sure hope that’s the good guys.
The explosion was followed a second WHOOOOSH! This rocket fell short of its target, hitting the roadside and flipping the black Suburban onto its roof. Joshua felt his throat tighten. We’re next.
Joshua felt the pickup lurch to a stop. The doors flew open, and the agents jumped out, drew their weapons, pointed them forward and opened fire. Joshua peered through the back glass and laid eyes on their targets: four shadowy figures in black robes. AIS, he thought. This just went from bad to worse.
Joshua heard the crack of a rifle, and the agent on the passenger side went down. Joshua heard him crying out in pain. Still alive, Joshua thought. He heard another shot, and the left side of the pickup descended. Took out a tire.
Suddenly Joshua felt his head jerked to the left. His heart jumped violently.
Jack removed Joshua’s gag, then unbound his wrists. “Stay low and free Rebecca. I’ll free Kane and Thomas.”
“Glad you finally got those off.” Joshua pointed at Jack’s wrists as the lone still-standing agent continued to trade gunshots with the advancing terrorists. “Now how the heck do we get out of this?”
“The same way we always do,” Jack answered.
“Blind luck?”
Another shot rang out, and the agent let out a primal scream and went down. Joshua heard him moaning. They let him live too. They want us alive. Joshua peeped through the back glass, staying as low as possible. Two of the jihadis moved to the left of the truck and two to the right. The lead terrorist on the left lowered his rifle and unsheathed a large knife. He stepped ominously toward the fallen Homeland Security officer, who was engaged in a futile struggle to stand up. Joshua gritted his teeth as they approached the vehicle.
Another shot rang out, this one louder than those from the terrorists’ rifles. The militant with the knife’s head exploded and disappeared from atop his shoulders. As the three remaining militants spun toward the unknown threat behind them, a second shot claimed the life of the terrorist on the far right. The terrorists began screaming in Arabic, firing wildly in the direction from which the shots had come. No shots came in return.
“Who the hell is shooting at them?” Jack asked.
“No clue,” Joshua said. “But I wonder if they got him.”
Kane quietly slipped over the right side of the truck and claimed the wounded Homeland Security agent’s rifle. He fired a round into the base of the remaining terrorist on the right’s spine, sending him to his eternal destiny.
The final terrorist spun to confront Kane. As Kane pivoted toward him, another shot rang out. This one was different, and it came from behind the pickup, off to the left. The blast was followed by the sound of a pumping shotgun as the terrorist went down in a hail of buckshot. Joshua turned, surprised to see the same strange young man they had passed on the road a few turns earlier and who he had seen on the trail prior to meeting Mordecai. The man’s still-smoking 12 gauge was trained on the dead terrorist’s corpse. His Ford pickup sat about fifty feet behind them, the engine still running.
“How did he sneak up on us like that?” Joshua wondered aloud.
“Well it was kind of loud.” Rebecca rubbed the spots where the restraints had ground against her wrists. “And we were slightly preoccupied.”
“We still should have seen him coming,” Jack said. “We need to be more alert.”
As Jack finished speaking Joshua’s ears picked up the sound of another old vehicle, this one coming from the direction in which the mysterious shots that killed the first two terrorists had originated. An antique red pickup was making its way toward them, and the strange young man who had killed the last terrorist had lowered his shotgun and moved to the area where the jihadis’ corpses lay.
“Man, that’s a cool truck,” Thomas said. “I’d like to have one of them.”
“Yes it is,” Joshua said. “Can you tell what it is?”
Jack shielded his eyes from the sun with his hands. “Looks like an old Ford. 1950-ish. F1. The more important question is who is in the truck.”
The truck rumbled to a stop, and Mordecai Stone stepped out of the drivers’ seat and gestured toward Joshua. “Sonny, how many times am I going to have to bail you folks out?”
Jack cocked and eyebrow and took a step toward Mordecai. “You’re the crazy old man from the mountain. We have some questions for you!”
The strange young man known only for saying “eeeeeee!” stepped to Mordecai’s side and raised his shotgun toward Jack. Mordecai waved him off. “Stand down, Tater.” Mordecai gestured toward Joshua. “It is time for us to have a talk, sonny, but first we’ve got to get you out of here.”
Jack chuckled. “Did you just call him ‘Tater’?”
The young man’s eyes widened. “That ain’t funny!” He huffed and stormed off toward his truck.
Jack shrugged his shoulders. “I guess I
said something wrong?”
“Tater doesn’t like folks makin’ fun of his name.”
Rebecca asked, “I’m assuming you mean ‘nickname?’”
“Nope,” Mordecai said. “’Tater’ is his given name.” The old man chuckled. “Don’t ask.”
“I won’t.” Jack snickered. “I feel like I’ve stumbled into a casting call for a remake of Deliverance.”
Tater made his way back to the group. “They’d better not do a remake of that.”
Jack cocked an eyebrow. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why not?”
“It’s a classic. They’d dern sure screw it up.”
Jack shook his head and looked at Joshua. Joshua chuckled to himself.
Joshua felt the hair stand up on his neck as a blood-curdling roar rang out from somewhere on the mountainside. The roar was high-pitched at first, then transitioned into a low, rumbling growl.
Tater grabbed his shotgun and pointed it at the mountainside, his eyes as big as hubcaps. “It’s the Gorilla Bear!”
“Umm… Gorilla Bear?” Jack asked.
“You ain’t never heared of the Gorilla Bear?”
“Uh, no.” Jack shook his head. “Enlighten me.”
“It’s exactly how it sounds. Part gorilla, part bear. Nocturnal critter. That means it usually comes out at night. Bear body and claws. Gorilla hands and head, but bear teeth. You notice how you don’t never hear of no bigfoot sightings no more? Bigfoot was in these here mountains. The Gorilla Bear ate him.”
Mordecai stepped toward Joshua and whispered, “Tater did a few drugs in his younger years.” He gestured toward the mountainside. “Most likely a mountain lion.”
Joshua heaved a deep sigh. “Are you sure his drug use is past tense?”
“He hasn’t used in years.” Mordecai pointed at Kane. “Corporal Martin, help me dress these men’s wounds and stop the bleeding.”
Kane’s countenance straightened and he stepped toward Mordecai. “How did you know my rank? I haven’t spoken of it since I was discharged.”
Mordecai grinned. “I know a lot of things. Now let’s dress these men’s wounds and then get out of here.”
“These men took us prisoner,” Kane said. “Why should we help them?”
“Because we’re soldiers, and we do the right thing.”
Joshua shook his head. WE’RE soldiers? Is Mordecai military? He is a strange old man, but he seems to be on our side. As he turned toward Mordecai’s truck he saw Rebecca down on all fours, rummaging through the back of the black Suburban that had been flipped upside down. He quickened his pace and walked toward her. “Becca, what are you doing?”
“I want my .380 back,” she said. “And I’ll see if I can find your nine-millimeter.”
Joshua smiled, once again reminded that he had married well out of his league.
Kane called out a request as he tightened a tourniquet on the thigh of the agent who was writhing in pain near the passenger side of the pickup. “Mrs. Winston, if you find a Springfield 1911 with a brown grip and silver barrel, please get it. It belonged to Sergeant Major.”
Mordecai chimed in. “That’s a nice weapon. Kendall loved that gun. Glad you still have it.”
Kane vaulted to his feet. “You knew Sergeant Major? How?”
Mordecai chuckled as he finished applying a makeshift bandage to the wounded agent near the drivers’ side. “Tell you later, Corporal.”
Rebecca and Joshua rejoined the group, and Rebecca reunited everyone with their weapons. “Thomas, no sign of your keys,” she said.
Two minutes later Mordecai rose to his feet and gestured to the agents. “Gentlemen, I’m sure your comrades will be along to retrieve you shortly.” He pointed to Joshua, Rebecca and Thomas. “You three, follow me.” He gestured toward Kane and Jack. “You two, with Tater.”
Joshua clasped Rebecca’s hand as they walked toward Mordecai’s truck. He admired the classic pickup, which appeared to be in near-perfect shape. As Joshua approached the passenger side door he was greeted by a rather vocal bloodhound.
“Meet Annabelle,” Mordecai said. “She rides in the front. Y’all are in the back.”
Joshua scratched the dog on the head. “We should introduce Annabelle to Reagan.”
“I’ll have to check out your dog before I let him meet my Annabelle.”
Joshua chuckled as he walked around to the back and climbed into the truck. He turned around to offer Rebecca his hand and was surprised to find that she was already in the truck bed. The truck rumbled past the wreckage of the two vehicles that had been hit with RPGs and the bullet-riddled pickup in which Joshua and the others had been transported. Tater had turned his Ford around and fell in line behind Mordecai. After a few miles they turned off onto a small dirt path. Then another, and then another.
“Where is he taking us?” Rebecca asked.
“I think I know what he’s up to,” Joshua said.
“Man, I’m glad one of us does.” Thomas pursed his lips, a toothpick dangling between them.
“I think he’s going way out of the way, off of any main road, to try and avoid being spotted by Homeland Security.”
An hour and a half later they emerged onto Highway 28, and after another thirty minutes they arrived at Fontana Dam. Thomas’ Suburban, which looked remarkably like the Federal Protective Service’s vehicles, was waiting for them.
“Man, how did this get here?” Thomas pondered aloud.
Joshua pursed his lips. “With these guys, there is absolutely no telling. I’m afraid to ask.”
Mordecai’s truck rumbled to a stop, with Tater’s vehicle close behind. Mordecai slapped his door twice. “This is where you get off, sonny.” He gestured toward Thomas’ truck. “The keys are on the ground behind the front driver’s side tire. Vehicle has been swept for bugs and tracking devices. You’re in the clear. Now get on outta here!”
Joshua jumped out of the truck bed, followed by Rebecca and Thomas. Kane and Jack jumped out of Tater’s truck and removed Kane’s tent and the weapons they had acquired.
Mordecai motioned for Joshua to approach him. “Told you there was a mole in your camp.”
“And it appears you were correct,” Joshua said. “Who is it?”
Mordecai flashed a grin. “Your mole’s name is Moore.” The old man waved at Joshua. “Until we meet again, sonny.” Mordecai’s truck kicked up a couple of pieces of gravel, crossed the road across the top of Fontana Dam and disappeared around the curve. Tater did a 180-degree turn and headed west on Highway 28.
As Joshua and the others piled into Thomas’ Suburban a red Jeep Wrangler hugged the curve on the far side of the Lake, sped across the road that sat atop Fontana Dam, and skidded to a stop. A familiar face stepped out of the driver’s seat, while the other three occupants remained in the Jeep. Two more trucks followed close behind.
“Mr. Winston. Looks like someone sprung you loose before we got there.”
“Good to see you again, Ray,” Joshua said. “You were on your way to help us?”
“Yep. Thompson said you might need help.”
Drew, Joshua thought. Maybe we’ve all given him a bad rap. Joshua cleared his throat. “Thanks for your willingness to help us. Again.”
“No sweat. I’m not sure which is worse, the terrorists or the feds.”
Joshua couldn’t help but agree. “Sadly, I think you’re right.” He extended his hand. “Well, we’d better be on our way.”
Joshua’s heart skipped a few beats as two men stepped out of each truck and raised their weapons. Then he realized they were aiming at something behind him. When he turned he saw a red crew cab Dodge Ram pickup making its way toward them. He raised his hands as the truck slowed to a stop, signaling for Ray’s men to stand down. “They’re with us.”
Perry stepped out of the truck, along with Caroline, Chuck Jones and Tommy Page. Tommy ran to the driver’s side of the Suburban and embraced his father. Caroline ran to Rebecca and hugged her.
“It’s good to see some friend
ly faces,” Joshua said.
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Perry gestured toward Ray. “Good to see you again. I guess Drew tipped you off this time, too?”
“That he did,” Ray said. “You folks should really stop giving him such a hard time. You have no idea what kind of good he can do you. And all of us.”
Joshua nodded. “Thank you again. We do need to get back to camp.”
“One more thing before you go.” Ray handed Joshua a map and pointed to a location. “You need to be here at 6:00 Thursday night. Come hungry, and bring everyone you’d like. There are some people you need to meet.”
Joshua swallowed hard. “I appreciate the invitation, but we tend to keep to ourselves.”
“Look, son, we’ve saved your lives once and were ready to do so again. I insist.”
Rebecca stepped to Joshua’s side and gripped his bicep tightly. “We’ll be there.” She peered into Joshua’s eyes. “Won’t we, Josh?”
Joshua chuckled. “Well, I guess I’ll see you Thursday.”
“If not, I’ll be disappointed,” Ray said. “By the way, where exactly were you rescued?”
Joshua gave Ray directions to the location where Mordecai and Tater had set them free. After Ray departed, Joshua and the others made their way back to camp.
CHAPTER 9
Sunday, October 28, 2018 – 12:37 p.m. – Fontana Dam area
The cool mountain air stabbed against Drew’s face as his motorcycle wound through the curvy mountain road. Once again, he had tipped off his friend, Ray Sawyer, that Joshua and others from the camp needed help. If he had not done so eight months earlier, the terrorists would have killed Joshua, Jack and Perry.
For a moment, Drew wondered why he had risked his own life by leaving the camp today to ask Ray to help Joshua and the others. It was obvious that most of the camp residents didn’t respect him. Not only that, they openly disliked him. Ray had offered him a guest room in one of the small houses on his farm, but Drew had declined. In spite of what he thought of the others, he still respected Joshua. He believed in Joshua. This man was a different kind of leader. He was humble. And he had been there for Drew when no one else had.
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