by Chris Bostic
“Yeah, they are.” I waved him away from the edge of the falls. We all gathered up under the shade of some big trees by a rock bluff that ringed the wide open ledge. Dad hung out at the fringe of the shadows where the sun spilled over his shoulders.
“Another beautiful morning. That sun’ll warm you right up.” He took a moment to look us over, and turned to John. “I thought you found one stranger?”
“We picked up another along the way,” he replied.
A raised eyebrow followed, which crinkled the balding top of my dad’s head enough to send a sunshine glare into my eyes.
Before John could explain, Spotted Owl stepped forward and extended a meaty hand. “Nice to meet you. Spotted Fawn or Sunning Bear?”
“Neither,” my dad replied.
“Oh.” Spotted Owl looked at John. “I thought-”
“No worries. This fella here is very much related to Sunning Bear.”
“She’s back at camp,” Dad explained. “She’s working on plans for-”
John raised a hand to cut him off. “Whoa. Save it for later. Let’s deal with the problem at hand.” He pointed to Noel and said, “And what should we do with this guy?”
“Let’s hear his story.”
My dad waved John and Noel over for a private conversation, leaving me standing next to Spotted Owl. Not knowing what to say, and never having been much of a talker, I gazed at the edge of the cliff where the falls loudly spilled into the pond below.
“Thought this might be bigger,” I finally said when the pause got too awkward.
“What’s that?” Spotted Owl asked.
I realized I needed to speak up. I debated keeping quiet, but decided it might be more rude than prudent. With Spotted Owl looking at me, I said, “Just talking about the falls. It’s not very impressive.”
“It hasn’t rained much all year. It’d be a lot more water if we’d had normal rainfall this summer.”
“Huh. Makes sense. All the falls seem kinda wimpy.”
“You’ve seen others?” Spotted Owl asked, which caused me to go back into quiet mode. Not sure what I should share with the stranger, I settled for a quick bob of the head.
We stayed back in the shadows. With a sidelong glance, I watched as my dad gave Noel the type of enhanced pat down that would have made an airport security guard proud. Then he launched into a seemingly spirited interrogation of Noel—or so I hoped.
Dad hadn’t been the tougher of my two parents. Education was his big push. He’d put a strong emphasis on my performance at school, both academically and behavior-wise. But Mom had dispensed most of the discipline around my house for any other infractions.
I was happy to see the mild-mannered accountant taking his job vetting Noel seriously. He was much more expressive than usual as he alternated between hands on hips and arms wrapped in front of his chest.
Growing tired of the waiting, I leaned back against the rock bluff and debated sitting down. Assuming it wouldn’t take that long, and not wanting to show any more weakness in front of Spotted Owl, I remained standing on my aching feet.
I wasn’t made for wearing boots, I decided. Tennis shoes had always been my number one choice, though not sturdy enough for the cross country hiking. Or waterproof.
Glancing at the clear sky, I stepped out far enough outside the tree cover to soak up the sunshine beating down on the rocks. Dad was right. I needed to enjoy it while I could.
Of course, it didn’t last. Over the rumble of the waterfall, I picked up on the sound of a constant, deeper growl. As the noise grew closer, a whop-whop-whop sound built in the tiny amphitheater that was the grotto.
“Helicopter!” Spotted Owl yelled.
I ran back under cover, crouching in the shadows. Five pairs of eyes glued themselves to the sky, and we were soon rewarded with the sighting of a dark green helicopter cruising in the distance.
The aircraft was long and bulky, unlike the short hard angles of the typical attack helicopters. There were no pylons under stubby wings holding a litany of rocket pods, but it was just as fearsome.
I cowered in the shadows, tucking my head to my chest as the chopper glided past. The sliding doors on both sides were open, with a man sitting in each opening behind a Gatling gun.
A pair of smaller helicopters trailed behind it, each with bulbous glass windows around the cockpit. Sitting inside with feet dangling down onto the metal legs, two soldiers were on each side wearing helmets and body armor.
As they flew past with a roar, John shouted, “Those aren’t Apaches!”
“Blackhawk and little birds,” Spotted Owl answered. “They’re carrying troops for an insertion.”
CHAPTER 6
I sprinted toward John. “Which way are they headed?”
“To the east,” he said calmly.
“Don’t we need to warn the others?” I shouted. I wasn’t positive, but I thought our cave near Grotto Falls was almost due east of Rainbow, and that put the others in mortal danger.
“Your dad’s on it,” he replied, and motioned toward my father.
Dad held the walkie-talkie to his ear. He lowered it to thumb the button, and said, “Ten-four. We’re inbound.” He waved to the others. “Let’s move out.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I forgot all about keeping watch over Noel, and took off right behind my dad, eager to get back to our cave as quickly as we could.
“Everything alright at camp?” I asked him.
“Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?”
I could only shake my head at that response. For someone so concerned and cautious when it came to financial matters, he could be clueless or undisturbed about other things. Despite the fact my stomach ached with anticipation, I didn’t press the questions with him. While he seemed to be in a fine mood, it hadn’t translated into a boatload of conversation. Even on a good day, he wasn’t the most talkative guy around. I supposed I took after him in that respect—and possibly little else.
When I finally remembered that I should’ve been helping watch our prisoner, I slowed to talk to John. Pointing a thumb at my own chest to indicate Noel behind us, I whispered, “Should we be worried about him?”
“I think we’ve got bigger fish to fry.” He adjusted the load on his back. “Or turkey. Either way, bud, I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“Why not?” I instantly thought of the helicopters. “You think those guys are assaulting the camp, don’t you?”
“I’d be running if I did. Wouldn’t you?”
I nodded sheepishly. “Would we be able to hear the gunshots?”
“Maybe.” He scratched at his beard. “Probably. Besides, your dad warned ‘em. They could’ve cleared out already.”
I breathed a giant sigh, but didn’t feel completely relieved. Sound travelled funny in the hills, especially the explosions. What sounded like a bomb from one ridgeline over was sometimes more like three or four miles. I could never tell the difference.
“I’d say those troops are dropping in to clear out a roadblock. Or doing a trial run.” John looked to the sky before focusing in on me. “It’s just not worth worrying about, bud.”
“Like drones and now choppers? And not just any choppers. These have soldiers that were definitely ready to bail out, maybe on our camp.” I swallowed exaggeratedly. “I’m gonna worry about it. We haven’t seen that before.”
“It was just a matter of time. You had to know that.”
“Of course I did. It’s just…I dunno. I can’t not worry. That’s what I do.”
“That’ll take years off your life,” John said with a grin.
“So will the soldiers.”
“True that. You got me there.”
I clammed up and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. We hiked an old trail for a little ways before plunging off into the depths of the forest again. The tree canopy was taller than a cathedral’s ceiling, choking out much of the underbrush. So we made good time crossing the final mile over to the cave.
M
y dad, not always the quietest one in the woods, had stepped on at least a half dozen fallen branches before we made it halfway there. Every time one had cracked under his boots, my heart had stopped—along with my feet.
Another crack split the quiet. It turned to a booming rumble that rolled from the hill off to our left.
“Hold up,” John called forward to my dad.
We ground to a halt, and gathered up waiting for another blast that never came. I looked to John questioningly. At long distances, gunshots and explosions almost sounded the same, though the bomb blasts tended to have a bit more of a thunderous rumble. I hadn’t been able to tell that time. A sixteen-year-old wasn’t supposed to know those kinds of things, I supposed.
“Rifle shot,” John explained, understanding the question before it had to be asked. “Pretty far.”
“Not from camp?” I asked.
“No. Definitely not.”
I wanted to believe it so badly when I asked, “So the birds put down somewhere else?”
“Maybe,” John admitted. “Or it could be hunters.”
“Not ours.”
“Well, no. They would know better than that.” John tapped the bow on his shoulder. “That’s why we use the primitive methods now.”
I was inclined to agree with that, but wasn’t done with the questions. “So say it was the soldiers…”
Spotted Owl stepped in to answer that one. “It was closer to town. Probably back by the roadblock, I’d guess…but sound travels funny in the hills.”
I nodded. I knew the way the mountains jutted to the sky in ridgelines like the ribs of emaciated rebels, only more broken and random. Like the way our little group could end up if the food supply ran out and the soldiers pressed the attack.
Between those crooked ribs, streams curled like serpents. They raced down hillsides to the finger-like, scattered, small valleys that eventually came together into the river. The Pigeon River ran alongside the narrow canyon town of Gatlinburg, but the city was no longer the jewel of the Smoky Mountains. The place had been devastated, with burned out souvenir shops, restaurants, and hotels sitting as decimated as the rest of the nation’s economy. Hopefully worse, I thought, seeing how it would take years and a small fortune to bring the town halfway back to its former glory. The country would take decades longer, if ever.
Before I could dwell on those dark thoughts, I noticed the first recognizable landmark in our long, out of the way hike. Rock jutted up at a severe angle from two sides, meeting in a point about ten feet taller than the trail. It highlighted how the mountain range had been formed by shifting crust of the Earth eons before. Behind the pointed rocks, fern-like bushes opened into a narrow, rock-lined path leading up a slope. It was the back way into camp, which was only to be used in case of emergency. I thought two strangers and the flight of soldiers probably qualified.
Thankfully, there was no sound of a struggle from up above.
Regardless, I rushed up the trail, eager to get back to the relative safety of the rock enclosure. Dad kept pace with me. We made it to the top of the rocky steps to a flat, tree-covered plateau at the base of a massive bluff and paused. After taking a quick look at the sky and finding it to my satisfaction, I raced across an open area and into a field of round boulders that could’ve made a mammoth-sized snowman replica, if stacked and painted white.
Weaving through the boulder field, I raced for the entrance. Somewhere back in the shade of the cave, I knew there would be eyes watching my approach. Though I could see no one in the concealed position, I tossed a wave in their general direction anyway and pressed on. Seconds later, the blazing light of noonday sun turned into the black of the cave.
Situated under the ledge, a big room spread out before me. Except for the low ceiling that provided a touch of claustrophobia, the expansive room could’ve been a dank, darker replica of my school cafeteria. Cots took the place of tables; however, there were several tables fashioned from crates and plastic tubs ringing the room.
It took a while for my eyes to adjust to the shadows. Rather than rush inside, I stood backlit against the opening. It felt as if I had to crouch to avoid scraping my head on the roof of solid rock. Of course, it wasn’t any lower than the basement of my house back in the suburbs, and just about as cold. I assumed my older brother Austin felt perfectly at home there, other than the lack of video games and screeching anarchy metal music.
A shape rushed toward me, and I squinted into the blackness in time to see the prettiest girl from Henry Clay High School inches away. Katelyn launched herself toward me, nearly knocking me back out of the entrance.
“Wow, what a greeting,” I said as she wrapped her arms around my waist.
“Where have you been? I was worried about you.”
“You didn’t hear?” I asked, wondering why she was simply missing me rather than on high alert about the helicopter soldiers. “You know, about the helicopters?”
“I heard ‘em.” Her eyebrows pinched together as she studied my face like a painting. I hoped more like an outdoorsy print than some kind of angular modern art masterpiece. “Nobody said anything but stay inside…but you look, I dunno…worried.”
“I was.” I had grown less worried about hiding my feelings around Katelyn, and volunteered, “It scared the crap out of me, you know, to think they might be coming your way.”
“They didn’t sound that close. What’s up?”
“It wasn’t the usual choppers. These had soldiers all geared up, hanging out the sides like they were ready to jump or rappel down or something.”
“Oh, dang. That’s serious.” Katelyn released me, and shot a look across the cave toward the back corner.
Gathered around a table made of plastic tubs, I saw my mom talking to Katelyn’s. Both of them looked like safari guides in their matching khaki outfits.The only thing missing was a wide-brimmed hat.
“Huh. They really don’t tell you anything.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to say.” She spun around to face me, but ended up looking past my shoulder. “And who the heck’s with you?”
“You didn’t hear about that either.”
“No,” Katelyn huffed. “And I’m getting sick of it too. This babying crap has gotta stop.” She stepped away from me, her eyes shooting daggers across the cave at her mother.
“Easy, babe,” I said, and immediately regretted it. I grabbed her wrist to spin her back around to try to calm her down, and came face to face with the prettiest brown eyes—only they’d turned as dark as her mood.
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” she snapped.
“I know better than that.” I could relate. No one liked being told what to do. I hated it when my parents did it. The whole group was no big fan of our corrupt government trying to boss us around either. So I tried to soften the blow. “Look, I get that you’re pissed. We went through the same deal when this all started, when our folks wouldn’t tell us anything. They were always like I’ll tell you later, or not now, or…you know. At least mine were.”
“Mine too. And now it’s back the way it used to be. A couple camps get hit, and they think they have to lock me in my bedroom.” She huffed. “As if I actually had one of those.”
“Yeah, it sucks. If it wasn’t for the extra patrols, I’d never get out of this place.”
“That doesn’t make it any easier.”
“No, but …I mean you can’t blame them for being worried.”
“Everyone’s worried, Zach. It doesn’t do me any good to be stuck in here.” She looked back at the adults, and added, “I’m having it out with them now.”
“You might want to wait a second,” I said. “They need to talk to the new guys.”
“And who are they?”
“The camo guy is from another camp. He goes by Spotted Owl.”
“Of course,” Katelyn said. “That won’t be at all confusing.”
“Look on the bright side. I guess that makes him your, uhm…uncle?”
“Very fun
ny, Sunny Boy.”
“I try. And that’s Sunning Boy to you,” I shot back at her play on my mom’s code name.
“More like Sunning Cub…and she still treats you like a baby too.”
I failed at hiding a grin. “I like it when you’re sassy.”
“I try,” she parroted, and slipped her hand into mine. I squeezed it, and brought it to my lips. Her dark eyes finally lightened after a soft kiss on the back of her hand—or maybe I was just hoping.
Nevertheless, she wasn’t fully calmed down. “So who’s the dude in the brown coat?”
“That one’s a little trickier.”
I paused uncomfortably, causing Katelyn to ask, “How so?”
“He says he’s a deserter from the Army. I stopped him at the roadblock.”
Her eyes widened. “You did?”
“Well, yeah,” I replied, getting a little swagger going to mask any lingering concerns. “Your brother took off to get a turkey, and this guy comes up on me while he was gone.”
“Came up on you, did he?” Her subtle, dimpled grin warmed me more quickly than any bonfire. “Like he surprised you. Like you were sleeping on watch.”
“Hey, I wouldn’t do that.”
“Right. This from the guy who doesn’t get out of bed until noon.”
“You been talking to my mother again? Maybe you do need to get out of here more often.” She opened her mouth to object, but my thoughts shifted gears quicker. “Oh, babe! I’ve gotta tell you something.”
She mashed a finger over my mouth. “Shh, they’re gonna hear you.”
“Good call, ‘cause this is serious.”
“What?” She raised up on her tiptoes, bringing her ear level with my mouth. “This sounds good. Tell me.”
“We’re sneaking out tonight,” I whispered. Her brow furrowed again. Before she could object, I told her the rest of the plan. “I found this awesome creek today. You remember when we used to gather water?”
“How could I forget?” she purred, obviously recalling the times we’d done a little more than filling a few pails of clean water. “It’s been at least a couple weeks since I’ve gotten to go that far.”
