by Ray Wench
“You sure about this, Bobo?'
“Unless something changed that doesn't show on the map, we should be good. Shit! I see cars coming.”
“Cars? As in plural.”
“Yeah, the lead car looks like the van we saw before. They must have gone back for reinforcements.”
“What do we do? You want to turn around and run for it?”
“We may have to. No, wait! There's the road we need.”
“You want to go for it?”
“If Kentae is to have a chance to survive, we have no choice.”
“But is his survival worth our deaths?”
“Hey, two options, run or go.”
Becca made the turn, slowing just enough to keep from rolling the SUV. She ran up a driveway and cut across two lawns, before driving back down another driveway to the road. The one-time residential subdivision had houses that once sold for a hundred and fifty to two hundred thousand dollars. Now it was overgrown and looked like a ghost town.
“Turn right here,” Bobby said.
Having bled off some speed, Becca made the turn with more success.
“Go four blocks and turn left.”
Bobby trained the glasses down each side street as they blew past. At the third one, he said, “Damn! A car just turned on this street.”
Becca punched the pedal and the SUV lurched forward. She braked at the corner, making a sharp, but somewhat controlled left.
“We have a decision to make. We're only gonna have a few seconds before that car sees where we turned. We can either try to outrun them or hide while we can.”
Becca blew a loud breath out. “Man, why can't anything we do ever be easy.”
“We have to stay on this road for a while if we keep going. If we hide, there's no telling how long they'll search for us.”
“Gotcha, bro.” She kept going. Houses flew by on both sides. After a slight curve in the road, they entered an adjoining subdivision of older, but equally expensive homes.
“I caught a glimpse of the car just before we made that jog. I'm guessing we have about a four- or five-second lead on them.”
Becca didn't respond. At the speed they raced through the neighborhood, she kept her attention focused on the road, with only occasional glances in the mirror. She trusted Bobby would keep her updated. “Where do I turn?”
“It should be the next main street.”
“I'm going right, right?”
“Yeah.”
She started to slow. “What's that elevated road up ahead?”
Bobby spun in his seat and leaned into the front to get a view. “It must be the turnpike.”
“Is there a ramp?”
“Not here. The next one is probably twenty miles away. Hey, you missed the turn.”
“Baby brother, do you trust me?”
“Oh, man! It's a bad time to ask me that.”
“Hold on.”
Bobby leaned into the front seat. “Keep your head down, Toriano.” In the distance, the overpass grew. He turned to look out the back. He didn't need the binoculars to see the car behind them.
“Buckle up, Bobo.” She hoped he had because she knew the ride was about to get very bumpy. She eased the nose to forty-five degrees down a ditch. Feeding gas, the SUV climbed up the opposite side. From there she had to gain enough speed in a short distance to crash through the fence that bordered the side of the overpass.
For a fraction of a second, her heart seemed to stop as the wheels spun and slowed their progress.
“Ah, no pressure, but they are getting close.”
She ignored him and kept a steady press on the pedal. They climbed, but she doubted they had enough speed to burst through the fence. She swore under her breath. A whirring sound told her Bobby was lowering the window, getting ready to shoot.
The SUV increased speed with agonizing slowness. The crack of Bobby's rifle startled her, sounding like a bomb had gone off inside the vehicle. As if spurred by the shot, the wheels found purchase at the last second and surged forward. They hit the fence, though not as fast as she would've liked. The SUV hesitated, bowing the fence but not breaking through. Fortunately, it had no crossbar for added support or they wouldn't have stood a chance to get past. Still, the links held stubbornly to the posts.
“Damn it! I need more speed.”
The rifle cracked again. “They're backing up. I bought us some time.”
Becca threw the gears into reverse and backed down the slope. She reached the bottom of the ditch, shifted and floored it. The wheels spun fast and loud, slipping on the grass. They were stuck.
“They're getting out of the car.” He fired again. “If I might make a suggestion. Drive along the slope and to gain speed before angling upward.”
“Good idea, if I can get out of this ditch.”
“Back up again and take it slow. Once out of the ditch,” he took another shot, “accelerate steadily.”
Becca did as suggested. The SUV began to climb just as return fire began. They escaped the ditch and Becca maneuvered the SUV along the steep slope. Bobby slid to the high side hoping to offset the chance of toppling over.
A round banged into the rear door. Another glanced off the side with a whine. From his position, Bobby had no shot at the pursuers. He could only watch as the shooters got back in the car to give chase.
The SUV increased speed, but another problem arose in front of them. A stand of trees blocked them from going further. “Now or never,” Bobby said.
Becca waited until the very last second. Bobby gripped her seat and pulled forward to watch. His short quick breaths blew on the back of her neck told her he was as nervous about their success as she was.
She whipped the wheel hard, turning upward, aiming for the last chain link section. She pushed the pedal down as they made contact. Again the fence gave, but the SUV slowed. “Go! Go! Go!” Bobby chanted as if cheering for a running back racing for the end zone.
The SUV struggled but continued forward. “Yes,” Bobby shouted in her ear. “The post is bending. Keep going.” He looked out of the rear window. The pursuit vehicle attempted to follow their path and seemed to be having better luck.
The post leaned over more in the soft ground. One of the connecting links snapped. “They're gaining, sis.”
“Keep them off us. We're almost through.”
The window behind her descended. In the side mirror, she saw her brother slide out the window and perch precariously on the frame. He reached inside and dragged out his rifle. In the distance, she heard gunfire. She couldn't see the shooters but assumed they were firing from the car, trying to keep Bobby from getting off any rounds.
The post was nearly parallel to the ground. Becca willed the SUV to have enough power to pull it free. Another connector broke. With a sudden heave, the fence gave way, and the SUV broke through with a jolt. “Yeah!” She heard Bobby shout from behind her. She floored the pedal and the SUV ascended toward the elevated roadway.
“Ah,” Toriano said, “are you gonna leave him behind?”
Becca snapped a look at the boy, before realizing what he was talking about. Glancing in the mirror she saw Bobby getting to his feet. She braked and backed up. She pulled up next to him. He was on one knee aiming at the car. He pulled the trigger twice, pumped his fist and stood. Reaching through the open window, he unlocked the door and climbed in. Becca looked in the rearview mirror in time to see the car rolling down the slope.
She smiled and met Bobby's glaring eyes. “Ah, sorry, Bobo.”
“Yeah. I thought you were gonna leave me.”
“Now, baby brother, would I do that to you?” She drove bouncing along the grass until they reached the pavement. Her brother didn't respond. “Hey! Seriously? You think I'd leave you?”
“I'm thinking about it.” He checked to see if Kentae was still breathing. Relieved to find he was, Bobby slumped into his seat.
“You ass. I should have left you.”
“Except you needed me.”
&nb
sp; “Ha! I don't need you for anything.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No, I don't.”
“Okay, I'm taking a nap. Find your own way home.” He lay down on the rear seat. Less than a moment later his sister said, “No problem. I know exactly where we are.” Moments passed. “I just keep heading straight, right? West? Wait, am I going west?”
Bobby hid his smile and closed his eyes.
“Come on, Bobby. I said I was sorry.” She looked over the seat. “Fine, but if we get lost, it's your fault.”
Sixteen
Mark throttled back to idle.
“Why are you stopping?”
“Because if we can see them, they can see us. Before we go any farther, we need to have a plan and an understanding.”
“I told you my plan, and you'd better be understanding it. I'm going in to get that poor girl, with or without you.”
Mark left the wheel and got in Shavonne's face. “Now you understand me. I'm going to do everything I can to save that girl, but if you put my life at risk with no chance of success, I will turn around. And if you don't like that, I will toss you overboard and let you swim.” He stared her down until she averted her gaze. He backed away and spoke in a calmer tone. “Now, let's talk about options here.”
Her jaw worked back and forth, fighting anger. “Okay. What's your plan?” She snapped the words off in contempt.
“If we wait until dark, we might be able to get close if we run without lights. If we get lucky without being seen and stopped, I have no idea how we're gonna get on the freighter. At this point, I'm only assuming Kendra is on the ship. We don't even know that for sure.” He stepped back to the wheel. “Can you understand the dilemma here? I know you want to save her, but we could both be dead before we ever find out where she is. We can't just throw our lives away without gathering as much information as possible. That serves no purpose.”
Shavonne flopped down to the deck and cried softly. “I know. But when I think of what might be happening to that poor child, I just can't think straight. It tears me up inside.”
“I understand. I do. But, if we're going to make this work we have to be smart. And to be smart, you have to get control of your emotions.” He raised the glasses. In the distance he saw the large vessel quite clearly. The smaller boats surrounding the ship were easy to see as well, but not in detail. As he studied the scene before him, sudden movement to the rear of the freighter drew his attention. His jaw slackened in surprise, as the massive anchor splashed into the water. They might have just got their first break.
Maybe they anchored each night to avoid running aground. Perhaps it was to save fuel. He wondered how long they would be able to cruise the lake with gas in short supply. Did they have access to more? If so, they would need a large amount. Mark also pondered on whether they ventured out of the lake, perhaps traveling around the other lakes or back toward New York. They had a great opportunity to make contact with a lot of other survivors. They could be a source of information and a great way to link communities.
However, his first encounter with the members of this group was not encouraging. As with other large gatherings of survivors, they only seemed to be interested in their own goals, with little interest in the advancement of civilization.
He shifted view and caught sight of a patrol boat coming their way. Run or stand? The decision might be life altering, one way or another. He looked down at Shavonne, whose knees were pulled up to her chest and her chin rested on them. For the moment she was quiet. He watched her while he ran the beginnings of a plan through his brain. Anything at this point would be a gamble. How best to protect them if the plan went awry was the big question. They had to have a fallback.
“Shavonne.” She lifted her head. Even with the sun setting, he could see the tear tracks on her face. “They're coming.”
She perked up, eyes wide, and started to stand.
“No! Stay down and listen to me. I'm going to let them get close. When they do, I'll tell them I've captured you and want to trade you for something, maybe food or water.”
Excited, she rose to her knees. Mark motioned with his hand out, palm forward to keep her down. “No! Trade me for Kendra.”
Mark shook his head. “I don't think they'll do that. They'd rather have two women than one, even if one is grown and the other a child. My intention is to get you on board. The rest is up to you. It may take a while and you may have to endure some, ah, abuse, first, but hopefully they'll let you roam loose on the ship, or, at the very least, put you in the same holding area as Kendra.
“If they let me, I'll hang out alongside the ship for as long as possible. Once you find her, get to the deck and signal me. If you can't find a rope to climb down, you may have to jump. I'll get to you as fast as I can. From there we'll make a run for land.” He sighed. It wasn't much of a plan, but he didn't see any other way. Of course, a lot depended on whether or not they allowed him to live.
“What do you think?”
She wiped her eyes and nodded vigorously. “Yes, I'm willing to try.”
“You understand the danger you're placing yourself in?”
“I told you, I'll do anything to save her.”
Mark shook his head, knowing what she would have to go through to make this work. She was determined and he saw no other way.
“Okay.” He searched through the various cabinets and storage benches until he found some rope that wasn't nautical. He cut two pieces. “I'm going to tie you up so it looks like you're my prisoner. I'll place a gun and a knife near you in case this goes south on us. If shooting starts, duck and use the knife to get free. I might be too busy, or dead, to help you. If this works, they'll escort us to the ship. From there, I don't know. I guess we'll make it up as we go.”
“Okay,” she said, but her voice was a whisper.
Maybe she just realized the downsides to this plan, but it's what she wanted to do. He stepped forward and tied her hands in front of her, snug but not tight. “Here's the knife and here's the gun. You should be able to reach both. Keep down until you're free then come up shooting. Now, I need you to drop your pants.”
She gave him a quizzical look but to her credit, didn't hesitate. He tore a strip from a roll of duct tape, showed her a three-inch blade pocket knife and taped it to the back of her thigh. “If they take you, you won't have a weapon. They'll search you. Hopefully, they won't pat there.”
She pulled up her pants. Mark held up a small, one-inch blade pocket knife. “Put this in your shoe.”
She nodded and did so. As he stood, she grasped his hands with her bound ones. “Thank you for doing this. I don't want anything to happen to you, but promise me, if it comes down to a choice between Kendra and me, you'll choose her.”
“I can't make that—”
She squeezed his hands tighter, nails digging into his flesh, her voice more intense. “Promise me. Please.”
Mark met her determined gaze and, grudgingly, nodded. “If that's how you want it. I promise.”
Seventeen
Two hours later, Lynn still waited for word on her son's prognosis. Frenzied with worry, she wanted to storm inside the barn and scream for answers, although she understood it would only delay what she craved.
Lincoln sat on a picnic table and watched her with an unwavering gaze. Even if she decided to go in, she doubted Lincoln would allow her to get far. She stopped pacing and pressed her palms to the sides of her head hoping to alleviate the pressure within.
“Lynn, please, come sit before you fall down.”
She threw her arms to the side. “I don't understand what's taking so long. I should have heard something by now.”
“You know Doc is giving him the best care possible. It's gonna take as long as it's gonna take. The fact we haven't heard anything is a good sign. If she's still operating on Caleb, then there's a reason. He's still alive.”
Lynn thought of Mark again, wishing he was there to offer support and strength. She knew now that she'd bee
n wrong to be that angry with him. It wasn't that he looked for trouble, it was everywhere, at all times and in all places. She offered up a prayer that he would come back to her, to all of them, safe and loaded with the catch of the day.
As if God had heard her plea and opted to intercede, the SUV whipped into the driveway. Although thankful and relieved, Lynn recognized the speed of the approach for what it was, urgency. Her heart skipped a beat as she searched the windshield for Mark's image. Where was he? She spied Becca and Bobby and the top of another head in the front seat, but Mark was nowhere in sight.
Bobby leaped from the back seat as the SUV pulled to a stop and she broke into a run, vaguely aware of others moving next to her, but she could not take her eyes from the SUV. Where was he? The thought a scream in her mind.
Bobby ran to the rear and opened the tailgate. Becca jumped out, said, “We need help here,” and ran to assist Bobby.
At Becca's announcement, Lynn's step faltered for a moment. Her chest heaved, caught on a sob. “Oh God, not Caleb and Mark.” The idea of losing both of them was too much to bear. She froze and watched as if no longer attached to her body. Unable to prevent the flood of relief upon seeing the body was that of a black man and not Mark, she almost folded to the ground.
As others joined the sibs in carrying the wounded man, Lynn found the will to press forward. She searched the interior of the vehicle. A small, frightened boy sat in the front seat, but otherwise, it was empty. She collapsed against the SUV, not sure she could take any more bad news.
The human stretcher walked past. Bobby caught her eye but didn't speak. Becca followed the group and said to Lynn, “We'll explain later.” She walked around the car and opened the passenger side door.
She helped Toriano down and crouched before him. “Are you hungry?” The boy looked at her and swayed as if he might faint. “Hey,” she gripped his shoulders in case he collapsed. “You're safe. I'll look after you. “Come on. I'll take you inside, introduce you to some of the others and get you some food.” She stood and offered her hand. Toriano looked from her to the hand, then took it.
