by Akart, Bobby
He reentered the pickup and drove back toward the small town of five thousand people of primarily German descent. Within minutes, he was sitting in the parking lot of the Kutztown University of Pennsylvania. Apparently, classes had been cancelled, as there were only a few people walking around the campus.
During his escape, Jonathan had observed the change in the small towns as he drove away from Connecticut. Everything had come to a standstill. Businesses were shuttered, traffic was light, and he’d seen groups of people huddled around outdoor fires, carrying on animated conversations. The attacks of New Year’s Eve had caused the nation to stop its normal routine, and after more than a week, there was no indication that the normal American way of life was anywhere close to resuming.
Jonathan took one last look around and began the process of reassembling his cell phone. He had half his battery life available, more than enough to locate the door-lock code for the lodge and then to power it down again.
He nervously fumbled with the device, his mind racing as he thought of the potential danger he was placing himself in. He finally powered on the phone and scrolled through the contacts in search of the code. Just as he found it, two-zero-two-nine, his phone rang, sending shock waves through his nervous system.
After his heart leapt out of his chest, he calmed his nerves when the display indicated that the caller was Chepe.
“Yes,” he responded with trepidation.
Chepe, his most cerebral anarchist operative, was short and to the point. “I’ll be brief. I know about your father. Someone has reached out to you. I believe he’s sincere. Do you want his name and number?”
“What does he want?”
“To help. He claims you have a mutual enemy.”
Jonathan’s interest was piqued, but he wanted to remain cautious nonetheless. “Name and number.”
Chepe responded and Jonathan closed his eyes momentarily as the ramifications of Briscoe reaching out to him sank in. Jonathan quickly switched his phone to speaker and pulled up his notepad.
“Repeat the number.”
Chepe did, and then he awaited instructions.
“I’m here for you if you need me,” Chepe said, drawing a smile from Jonathan. He had an ally, and maybe another one, in the form of Trowbridge’s lead henchman, Briscoe.
Chapter Nineteen
Near Cofer Road
South Richmond, Virginia
Ethan was still asleep when his mother, Karen Hightower, began to sob over his battered body. A combination of her tears and kisses on his swollen face stirred him awake. He was having difficulty opening his eyes at first, but then he recognized his mother’s voice.
“Ethan, my baby boy. Ethan, can you hear me? It’s your mom.”
Ethan managed a slight smile, and then his eyes adjusted to the sunlight that was coming in through the windows. “Hey, Mom.”
“My gosh, son. Who did this to you?”
“Some guys. I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. I’m alive.”
Karen looked around the room and toward the faces of the family who had rescued her son. “Thank you, but, um. Ethan, where’s Skylar? Was she—?” Karen broke down in tears and buried her face in her hands as she contemplated a similar beating being administered to Skylar, or worse.
Ethan was able to raise his arm now and touched his mother’s shoulder. “She’s fine, Mom. She’s safe with Dad.”
Ethan wasn’t sure why, but his mother’s demeanor immediately changed at the mention of Will.
“Where the hell is he?” she demanded. “Where was the dad-of-the-year while my child was being beaten half to death?”
Ethan shook his head side to side and tried to rise up in bed. He was too weak and immediately fell back onto the pillow. “It’s not his fault, Mom. He kept us safe. I’m the one that left, you know, to come find you. This is all on me.”
“Ethan, don’t you even blame yourself for what happened here. Your father was supposed to take care of you. I knew I should’ve never let you go alone to—”
“No, Mom. It isn’t like that. When things went bad, Dad had a plan. He took me and Skylar to this place. You know, it’s kinda like one of those compounds.”
“Like a cult?” Karen shot back. “Is he some kinda religious fanatic or something? I’m gonna call him right—” Karen fumbled through her pockets to find her cell phone. She tried to power it on, and then she remembered that the battery had died, and she didn’t have a car charger.
Ethan cut her off before she finished her sentence. “No, Mom. It’s a good place. Actually, a great place. I’m the one who chose to leave.”
“Where is it, Ethan?” asked Frankie, who’d stood to the back and side of Karen while she reunited with her son. “Is it here in Richmond?”
“Hey, Frankie.” Ethan managed a wave. “No, it’s in North Carolina.”
Frankie stepped forward and appeared puzzled. “Where? North Carolina? How did you get here?”
“Um, I borrowed a car from one of the farmers,” replied Ethan, who was still short of breath. He was feeling better physically, and his emotional faculties had returned. He tried to downplay his theft. “I didn’t want my dad to know that I was leaving on my own, so I took a car from a house outside the walls. I planned on taking it back when we went back there.”
“Did you say walls?” asked Frankie.
“What kind of place is this, Ethan?” asked Karen, who was still distraught and somewhat angry. She fired off more questions. “Did your Dad not really have a job in Atlanta? Why would he be involved in some kind of cult compound in North Carolina? None of this makes any sense.”
Ethan was growing frustrated. His mother had a tendency to overreact and become angry with anything related to his father. Normally, around the house, he and his sister wouldn’t bring anything up related to Will. Now he had no choice.
“Can you guys please prop me up? I really am feeling better. Just a little sore is all.”
Frankie and one of the ladies who’d taken care of Ethan adjusted his pillows up against the headboard of the bed so he could sit up. He grimaced and groaned as he rose to a seated position, but he was glad to be upright. He was offered a glass of water with a straw, which he quickly drank down. With his parched throat quenched, and no longer being hovered over by his mother and Frankie, Ethan began to explain.
He relayed to them what had happened at Mercedes-Benz Stadium on New Year’s Eve. The fact that he and Skylar were there unsupervised immediately raised the ire of Karen, who went on a rant before both Ethan and Frankie calmed her down.
Then Ethan explained that Will was also known as Delta and that he was an important part of the Haven as a member of the security team. He also told them about the important job he’d been assigned, operating their drone patrols.
“Mom, I was worried about you and got the feeling that Dad didn’t want to reach you by phone. I don’t know if that was true or if he really couldn’t get through, but I decided to head home on my own to get you.”
Karen calmed down as Ethan showed signs of improvement. He also was displaying a maturity that was unlike his general demeanor in the past several years. She turned the conversation toward his injuries and listened to the family members for their assessment of whether he needed to go to a hospital or not. The general belief was that Ethan, with bed rest, would recover more each day.
Frankie waited until the discussion of Ethan’s condition was over before he pressed him for information on the Haven. “Ethan, they call the place Haven?”
“Yeah. It’s really big. It stretches along a river on two sides, and the rest of the property is surrounded by walls and iron gates. They’ve got supplies and all kinds of people who have different jobs. Some grow food. Others have special jobs like medical and teaching. They have a lot of security, like Dad.”
“How did your dad find this place?” asked Frankie.
Ethan gulped and pointed toward his empty Bambi cup. One of the teenagers rushed to refill it for him. “I don’t
really know. All I know is that the security guys have nicknames. Dad’s is Delta. The head security guy is named Alpha. He used to be in the military.”
“Is this Alpha person the one who created the Haven?”
“No. Their names are Ryan and Blair Smart. I didn’t see them much. She stays at their house, mostly, and he rides around the Haven on a four-wheeler. You know, everybody has a job. Even Skylar.”
“What?” asked Karen with a huff. “What kind of job do they give to a child?”
“Mom, she’s not a baby, and she was actually very proud of the job given her by Blair. She was told to draw a watercolor painting or sketch or something like that. You know, of our cabin.”
“Will has a cabin there?” Karen asked. “How the hell did he pay for it when he’s always behind on my support? He’s the lowest of low.” Her voice trailed off as she set her jaw.
“I don’t know, Mom. I think he worked out some kind of deal or something.”
Frankie stepped closer to Ethan’s bed. “Hey, don’t worry about all of that. Listen, Ethan. Um, do you think you could find your way back to this, this place called the Haven?”
“Yeah, I think so. It’s not really that hard. It’s west of Charlotte off I-40. From there, it’s kinda tricky, but I think I can find my way.”
“Frankie, what are you thinking?” asked Karen.
Frankie reached out for Karen’s arm and pulled her to the side. “Let’s give Ethan a little time to rest. There’ll be plenty of time to talk. We’ve got a little road trip ahead of us.”
Chapter Twenty
Haven House
The Haven
One of the outside patrols sped toward the front gate of the Haven, hunched over the steering wheel of his ATV, causing Alpha and Ryan to break up their conversation and draw their sidearms. The other two members of the gate security detail took up positions behind the solid block wall, prepared to shoot out the tires and possibly the driver if it was someone other than their own people. Fortunately, as the four-wheeler got closer to the gate, it slowed and the driver stood on the footrests to reveal his identity.
Alpha, still concerned about the sudden approach, kept his weapon ready and exited through the pedestrian gate to approach the car. His voice boomed, reflecting his annoyance with the driver’s approach. “You wanna explain why you came barreling up here?”
“Yeah, sorry about that. There’s a sizable group walking toward us.”
Alpha was still annoyed. “You’ve got people watching I-40 all of this time and finally decide to tell us this?”
“No, it’s not like that,” the man quickly responded. “There’s a lot of traffic heading out of Charlotte on the interstate, but they’re not stopping at the Hildebran exit. Well, I mean maybe a few. But, mostly, they keep going west toward Asheville.”
“Then where is this group you’re talking about?” asked Ryan, who’d holstered his weapon and joined Alpha’s side. He turned and motioned for the other sentries to open the gate.
“From the south,” the driver replied. “You know, we’ve concentrated our efforts on the highway because of the thousands of people fleeing Charlotte. You know, there’s really nothing to the south of us.”
“Okay,” said Ryan. “You said sizable. How many cars are there?”
“That’s just it,” the driver replied. “They’re walking. They’re coming toward the bridge up Henry River Road.”
“How many?” asked Alpha.
“A few dozen. Interesting thing, though. We didn’t see any kids. All men and women, both young and old. Also, we didn’t see any weapons, or at least no long guns.”
Ryan furrowed his brow and thought for a moment. “Okay, come on in and let me talk to Alpha.”
The driver eased through the gate as Ryan ordered the gate secured. Alpha contacted two more members of the security team to relieve him and Ryan at the gate. When he was done, the two men stepped into the gatehouse and studied a topography/road map of the area surrounding the Haven.
Alpha traced his index finger around the map. “It seems odd that refugees wouldn’t have any children.”
“And if they were locals, why wouldn’t they just stay home?” asked Ryan inquisitively. “Surely they know they’re better off. I mean, where the heck do they think they’re gonna go?”
“Not here,” replied Alpha dryly.
“They’re also unarm—” began Ryan before he caught himself as his fingers tapped an icon on the map. “Wait a second. I bet they’re from Valley Haven, just south of Advent Crossroads. If I remember correctly, the campers come from all over the country for couples counseling, and just to get away.”
“And get right with the Lord,” added Alpha.
“Yeah, something like that. I don’t know why they’d run them out of the retreat, but either way, it makes sense now. It’s a place that kinda focuses on leaving your worldly possessions behind. You know, cars, cell phones, iPads, etcetera.”
“Where do I sign up?” quipped Alpha, making a rare attempt at humor.
“You already did, buddy,” replied Ryan before continuing. “Here’s the thing. I didn’t want to close the bridge crossing the Henry River along our southern perimeter because I felt like the locals needed the ability to come and go.”
Alpha stepped away from the map and looked Ryan in the eye. “Yeah, but this is different. As we’ve discussed before, we gotta do what’s best for us, right? We should’ve shut down the bridge from the beginning.”
“I can’t argue with that, Alpha. I really don’t think we have a choice.” Ryan glanced out the guardhouse window toward the driveway. “Do you still have the Department of Transportation barriers hidden down the embankment on the other side of the river?”
“Yeah, we have caution tape too. On the south side of the bridge, it’ll look like the bridge is closed for construction. I’ll position our people along the bridge to warn them off, with bullets if necessary.”
Ryan nodded and wandered toward the gate. Henry River Road skirted the entire western perimeter of the Haven and was always an area of concern. His solutions for a scenario like this involved closing the bridge at the south and creating an armed roadblock at the northwestern corner of the Haven where the wall began. This prevented vehicular traffic from approaching their gates as well as large groups of pedestrians. He hadn’t implemented these protections as of yet, so securing the bridge was the first step.
He didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention from the local sheriff by closing off a county road to traffic, but it was time to hunker down. It was a matter of time before hungry, desperate refugees spilled out of Charlotte from their southeast to find their way to the Haven. Their security plan was sound, and now they’d have to take defensive measures to control the area just outside their perimeter walls. If the sheriff came around to complain, then Ryan would deal with him when the time came.
Chapter Twenty-One
Haven House
The Haven
“Looocy, I’m home!” shouted Ryan as he walked into Haven House, using his best Desi Arnaz imitation from the classic I Love Lucy program. Ryan laughed at himself as he realized that he was somewhat of a throwback to the sixties, when the show was popular. Although he was just a young boy at the time, the program was a favorite of his mother and they never missed an episode.
Ryan was barely through the front door when the sound of puppy paws came barreling through the house on the wood floor. Chubby and The Roo led the way, with the ten-pound-heavier Handsome Dan in hot pursuit. Ryan smiled as he recalled the GEICO commercial from years ago depicting a spoof of the Running of the Bulls held annually in Pamplona, Spain. In the commercial, rather than bulls chasing the brave young Spaniards, it was English bulldogs racing through the streets.
He dropped to his knees to greet the trio as they plowed into him, knocking him on his backside and rewarding him with wet sloppy kisses.
“Blair, help me!” said Ryan as Chubby climbed on his chest and shook her head side to
side as if she was the conquering hero. Somehow, Handsome Dan learned from the girls that he could physically abuse Ryan as well. The large pup walked across Ryan’s midsection, back and forth, until a misplaced paw caused Ryan to roll over in pain.
After a moment of enjoying the scrum, Blair came to the rescue. “Come on, guys, give the self-proclaimed king of the castle a break.” She knelt down to help her husband off the floor. “You’re gettin’ too old for this, Mr. Smart.”
“Never,” said Ryan as he sat up with a groan. “I let them think they’re winning.”
Blair covered her nose with her right hand and waved the air in front of her face with the left. “Dude, you need to take a shower. You’re a little gamey.”
“No, I’m not,” protested Ryan. “I took a shower yesterday.”
“Well, try using deodorant, then,” Blair shot back as she stood over her husband. Ryan sat with his elbows rested on his knees as the three bulldogs circled around him like sharks.
“I do. I mean, I did. I use that Gillette clear gel. Remember, from those five-packs I bought on sale at Sam’s Club?”
“It’s not workin’, ’cause you stink, sir.”
“No, I don’t,” said Ryan and then he turned to the playful pups. “Guys, what do you think? You wanna sniff my pits?”
The Roo, whom the Smarts had labeled FOMO, an acronym representing the words fear of missing out, was the first in line to conduct a sniff test.
“Ryan! Stop that. Don’t make my children sniff your pits. Use my deodorant if you have to or take a shower.”
“I’m saving water, and deodorant,” said Ryan with a chuckle as he stood up. The bulldogs heard something at the other end of the house, most likely the last remnants of the snow falling off a pine tree, and went tearing after it, roaring their disapproval at the disruption.
