Weathering The Storm (Book 5): Downburst

by Soward, Kenny

  “Thanks.” Sara stepped inside and was immediately struck by the atmosphere of the place. Karen had placed candles all around the kitchen and living room, providing a warmth and ambiance that was a bit shocking. “It’s cozy in here.”

  “I’ve always loved candles,” Karen explained, then her mouth turned down in a frown. “I brought these from home, but I might run out soon.”

  “I’ll see if we can find some when we’re out today,” Sara said.

  “If it isn’t too much trouble.”

  Heavy footsteps shook the house, and Frank came up the stairs off the foyer area, panting as he greeted Sara with a smile. “Hey, Sara.”

  “Hi, Frank. Have you lost some weight?” Sara noticed the man looked thinner in the face, and he didn’t wear a grimace of pain like he usually did.

  “Couldn’t tell you,” Frank admitted. “We don’t have a scale around…” He made an apologetic face. “Most normal scales never worked with me anyway. But you’re probably right. There isn’t a lot of food around, especially sweets and beer. Always used to be my favorites, but now—”

  “He’s quitting.” Karen stepped to the large man and put her hand on his arm affectionately.

  “Good for you, Frank.” It was hard to imagine Frank reforming so drastically from the jerk he was when Sara had first met him, but she had to admit he looked different. “I was hoping to talk to Kayla before Barbara and I go scavenging.”

  “She’s upstairs,” Frank said, his jowls shaking. “First room on the right. Didn’t sleep well last night, it seems.”

  “That’s what I hear. And thanks.” Sara’s stomach turned with anxiety at having to meet the girl she’d rescued, although she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. Perhaps it was the condition she’d found the girl in, unable to believe someone like that could recover. More than that, Sara didn’t think she’d know what to say. Even as a mother who’d worried over her kids nonstop for weeks, she couldn’t imagine either of them going through what this young woman had.

  She took a deep breath and went to the stairs, climbing them quietly. When she came to the door Frank had indicated, Sara knocked lightly and waited.

  “Come in.”

  Sara opened the door and stepped into a plain bedroom decorated with rustic pictures and an old-style dresser and nightstand combination. Karen had placed three candles around the room that bathed it in a calming light.

  Kayla lay in bed staring out of the window as the wind howled outside. At first, Sara had to blink to make sure it was the same girl she’d found bleeding on the lodge’s walkway. The young woman bundled up in a flannel shirt and several layers of blankets was fresh and clean. She wore white bandages on her face and arms, and the swelling around her eyes had considerably diminished. Her light brown hair was clean where it cascaded over her shoulders and down her chest with a bit of a curl to it.

  The girl didn’t glance at Sara as she unslung her rifle, pulled up a chair, and sat down. Sara studied the girl’s dark blue eyes as they stared past Sara and out at the cold.

  “Good morning, Kayla,” Sara started, keeping her voice light and conversational.

  The girl’s eyes flashed at Sara and then moved back to the window. “Hello, Missus Walton.”

  “Please, just call me Sara.”

  “Okay, Sara.” The girl’s tone was flat with indifference, almost like she was speaking to Sara from some distant place.

  “Are you feeling any better? Natasha said you’re recovering well.”

  “Except for my leg.” The girl’s eyes shifted to Sara once more, and Sara settled back in her chair as something hot and fiery flashed in the girl’s expression. “I doubt I’ll ever run again.”

  “You like to run?”

  “High school track. I was second in state in the 500-meter last year, but it doesn’t look like I’ll…” Her words trailed off along with her eyes, and once again she stared out the window. The girl’s eyes grew glassy as tears threatened to break through, and Sara realized Kayla may be using her broken leg to hide the other horrors that had occurred at the lodge.

  “I’m sure it will be fine.” Sara leaned forward and touched the blanket gently. “Lots of athletes get injuries and make a full recovery. My son, Todd, he had a severe shoulder injury his freshman year that required surgery, and they said he’d never throw a football again. But he worked hard in rehab and won the quarterback position the next year. His arm is stronger than ever. The doctors have come a long way with therapy—”

  “Not this time.” Kayla cut off Sara’s soft words with a sharp look that could have melted steel. Her blue eyes glared from her bruised eye sockets like coals of ice. “I’m not dumb, Missus Walton. I know I can never make regionals or state now. And I’ll never get a shot at a college team. Not that it matters now.”

  Sara drew up stiff in her chair, hardening herself against the girl’s wrath. She nodded, choosing her next words carefully with all the patience and love her mother’s heart could muster. At the same time, she knew it would be better not to sugarcoat things. “The world has changed a lot, Kayla. We’ve all been through hell, especially you. I almost lost my son, and I haven’t seen my own husband in weeks. I’m not even sure he’s alive.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” The girl took some of the heat out of her tone, and her eyes showed a hint of sympathy. “Barbara told me what happened at the lodge, and I appreciate you saving me. But sometimes I wonder if it would have been better to just leave me there. It’s not like they could have hurt me any more than they already did.”

  “You crawled out of there on your hands and knees for a reason.” Sara leaned forward, placing her hand firmly on the girl’s arm without asking. “You wanted to live then, and you want to live now. You just don’t know it yet.”

  Kayla shook her head as her eyes drifted to the window once more. A moment later, as if coming to some realization, she turned her head back to Sara. A tear slid down her cheek and she sighed heavily. “I think there’s only one reason I crawled out of there. One reason I’m lying in this bed in front of you. It’s not to run track or go back to school for my junior year.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “I survived so I could kill the bastards who did this to my family.” Kayla’s chest began to heave with emotion and her jaw tightened like a vise. Her thin arms pressed down on the blanket, her girlish hands curled into fists. “I want them all dead. I want to see them suffer. I want to hear them scream like my mom did. I want to…” The girl choked on the next words as rage and sorrow caught in her throat.

  Kayla’s words chilled Sara to the bone, and she felt her own emotions rise in her chest. Still, she remained calm. This girl didn’t need a hug, or to be comforted. She needed a way to strike back at those who’d done her the worst kind of injustice.

  “I can get behind that,” Sara nodded with cold determination. “I didn’t want to go where I’m about to go with you, but if you can describe them to me, if you remember what they—”

  “Oh, I remember what they look like,” the girl said in a tone like seething fire. “I’ll remember them until the day I die. I just want to remember them dead.”

  “Okay, then. Tell me.”

  Chapter 13

  Sara, Gatlinburg, Tennessee | 9:17 a.m., Sunday

  Walking on shaky legs, Sara came down the steps of Natasha and Dion’s cabin after retrieving Rex, her head still reeling from the things Kayla had told her.

  Barbara waited for her by the van dressed in dark green clothing with her own rifle hanging from her shoulder and her sidearm tucked into its holster.

  “Did you talk to Kayla?” Barbara asked in her usual flat tone.

  “Oh, boy, did I ever.” Sara shook her head as she opened the driver’s side door and waited for Rex to jump up and move to the back seat of the van before she shut the door behind him. “She told me all about the people who tortured and killed her family. Sounds like we’re dealing with several well-armed, combat-trained psychopaths.” />
  “I’d say that’s a pretty good description.”

  The two women went down to the gate, each took a side, and lifted the big log over the rebar groove. Barbara was on the far side of the road, and she walked her end to Sara’s side. The log was almost too heavy for them, and both of them strained and grunted as they moved the big, cumbersome piece of wood.

  Once out of the way, Sara got in the van, started it, and drove it down past the gate before parking it again. Then she got out and helped Barbara put the gate back. Sara had worked up a sweat by the time the two women got in the van, and she took a moment to sit before pulling off. “I’m not sure whether I should be angry, sad, or terrified.”

  “You should be all three,” Barbara assured her. “We’re dealing with professional psychopaths, not just local yokels.”

  “Tex seems to think they’re responsible for the Douglas Dam explosion and some of the trucks getting hit up on the expressway.”

  “I have no doubt about it,” Barbara agreed. “We’d be doing our country a favor if we found and killed them.”

  “As much as I’d like to do that—boy, would I love to promise Kayla we could—it’s not going to happen.” Sara looked across the seat at Barbara. “You know that as well as I do. We’re not equipped for that, nor are we trained.”

  “I’m just saying,” Barbara countered, “that if we find them in a compromised position…”

  Sara’s eyes remained focused on Barbara, gazing harder if it was possible. “If we see them, we run. I don’t care what position they are in. In fact, I’m not even sure it’s a good idea that we go scavenging.”

  Barbara shook her head. “It’s getting cold, and you saw how bundled up we are in the cabins. All we have is candles to keep warm, and Karen said those are running out.”

  “I know.” Sara gripped the steering wheel, looking worried.

  “Todd will be watching the gate all day, and Dion is there. You gave Frank a gun now, too. Not sure if he can hit the broad side of a barn, but that’s three guns on the gate. It’s just about all we have, Sara.”

  “And Tex volunteered to watch Zoe for an hour until Natasha gets up to the cabin.” Sara bit her lip. Then, coming to a decision, she put the van in drive and allowed it to coast down the hill. “We’re going because we have to, but you have to promise me we’re running if we see any black-clad combat-types. No questions asked. No potshots taken.”

  “Okay, fine,” Barbara said, staring out the window. “No questions. No potshots.”

  The van shifted as the two women placed the big red generator into the back, Sara dropping it the last inch as the slick metal slipped through her hands. She leaned in and put her face against the cool chassis. Barbara was in the van bed, and she pulled as Sara pushed until it was well inside. Then Barbara came around and helped Sara push it the rest of the way, until it was flush against the back seat.

  Sara’s arms were shaking and tired from bringing the equipment up from the basement where they’d found it in an abandoned and looted home on the side of the hill. The looters had left anything too heavy behind, including the generator and a small foldable bed Sara thought they might be able to use back in one of the cabins.

  One of the sheds out behind the place had been blown over by the high winds, and Sara threw some of the pieces into the back, hoping Todd would be pleased to have them for the tree stand he was planning.

  “Okay, that’s about it,” Barbara said, backing away from the van and dusting her hands off.

  Sara remained lying half in the van for a moment, propping herself up on her hands to catch her breath. Then she backed out and stood next to Barbara with her hands on her hips. “Great haul. Natasha is going to be stoked.”

  “I’ll do one more check inside.” Barbara, cursed with endless energy, jogged back to the house, bounded up the back steps, and disappeared inside.

  Sara turned and looked around. They were perched at the top of a driveway, elevated fifty feet above the main road winding through the valley. She’d purposefully placed the back of the van toward the house so they could load up easier. With the front end pointed down the driveway, they’d have an easy way out without having to back the vehicle down to the road.

  The mountain rose up behind her, and the trees protected them from much of the rough winds blowing at the higher elevations. Rex barked, and Sara glanced behind her to see the German Shepherd digging excitedly around a log with his forepaws. He had probably cornered some forest creature and was intent on getting at it, though they were leaving soon, and Sara thought she should call him back.

  “Come on, Rex!” she called. “Come on, boy!”

  The Shepherd’s head lifted and cocked to the side, ears pointed straight up. Sara clapped, and the dog made a sharp yipping sound and loped in her direction. As Sara turned back toward the road, she heard the low squeal of an engine belt. Curious, she stepped to the back corner of the van and leaned around to get a better view. Coming around a wide bend was a red SUV, an older model like something out of the 1990s. Its long front end and sloping glass made it impossible to see who was inside, but the way it cruised along slowly gave it a menace she couldn’t explain.

  Backing up to the other edge of the van, Sara looked for Rex. He should have been right at her heel by now, however, when she turned around and cast her eyes across the yard, she saw that he’d heard the squealing engine belt too, and was bounding toward the road to give the offending vehicle a piece of his mind.

  “Rex!” Sara hissed loudly and clapped her hands again, giving Rex a simmering look.

  Rex changed direction on a dime, trotting over with his tongue hanging out innocently, as if he’d not done anything wrong. Sara met him at the front of the van, grabbing him by his harness and pulling him over to the back tire. She heard the sound of the slow-cruising truck very close by, its frame rattling slightly due to its age or some beating it had taken. Sara didn’t know if the people inside the vehicle could see beneath her van, but she didn’t want to take any chances. Making sure to stay behind the wheel well, Sara hugged Rex to her, the dog wiggling in annoyance at the rough treatment.

  “Shhh,” Sara hissed, trying to calm the animal. Then her eyes drifted toward the house to see Barbara coming out of the back door and traipsing down the stairs with a big grin on her face, holding up a bag full of batteries. Sara clenched Rex with one hand and threw her finger to her lips with the other, giving Barbara a wide-eyed look.

  The girl stopped in her tracks and then angled toward the corner of the house, making sure to stay out of sight even as she shot Sara a questioning look. Then her eyes widened as she saw something sitting in the space between the house and the van. Sara saw it, too, and her stomach sank.

  Their rifles were resting on an old picnic bench right out in the open.

  If the people in the SUV saw them, it would immediately raise their suspicions. Sara thought about dashing over and scooping the guns up, but the approaching vehicle was surely in plain sight of the driveway. Sara only shook her head and put her back to the van, clutching Rex to her chest as she stroked his fur.

  Only when she thought the van was moving past them did Sara risk another look. She stalked to the back edge of the van and peeked around. She caught sight of the red SUV just before it disappeared down the road. The side of the vehicle was peppered with bullet holes, and the front quarter panel was heavily dented and stained with a dark substance.

  Sara relaxed her hold on Rex with a relieved sigh, the tension of the anxious moment draining away so quickly that she almost cried. In her heart of hearts, she knew they’d just had a close call. Way too close for comfort.

  “Let’s get out of here,” she called over to Barbara. “Now.”

  Chapter 14

  Yi, Gatlinburg, Tennessee | 9:27 a.m., Sunday

  “We should stop and check it out,” Chen said as he drove the rattling, shaking Explorer along the slow curve. The man’s eyes were glued to a white van sitting up on an elevated driveway next
to a faded green home perched on the side of the mountain. The home looked weather-beaten and old, yet somehow inviting.

  Yi was already looking at the early-model van. From his angle, he could see most of the van, but not beneath it or up farther into the yard. The owners could be inside the house, or more likely they’d heard them coming and were already hiding, guns ready to open fire on anyone coming to steal their property.

  While resistance had initially been weak, Yi had learned that the people of the Tennessee Valley had a strength and resilience he had not counted on. Certainly, many had turned to crime and ruthlessness, yet many others had bound together and were offering strong, sometimes deadly, resistance.

  Plus, there were plenty of guns to go around. They were in every home, in every hand. Even the children were armed.

  “We need a new vehicle,” Yi commented. “This one is noisy and falling apart.”

  “Then we take the white van—”

  “No,” Yi said firmly. “We spent enough time in a van. They are not optimal on these mountain roads, and I don’t want to waste ammunition, and blood, trying to pry it from someone’s hands.” They slipped past the white van and the house, and Yi turned his eyes forward again. “We will stay focused on finding the maroon Subaru, the two women, and the dog. If an opportunity presents itself to acquire a better vehicle, we will take it.”

  Chen accepted Yi’s decision wordlessly and pressed the gas pedal a little harder so that the Explorer rattled and shot forward. They came to another house, at which point Chen slowed down again. They had been doing this for hours, had driven past a thousand homes, and still had no luck in finding their quarry. It began to dawn on Yi just how impossible their task was. Even with six teams of two or three special-ops soldiers combing through the surrounding mountains, their chances of finding the Box were slim.

  Yi lived with the cold, hard reality that their leaders could ignite the implants behind their ears and kill them at any moment. He could be looking up at the majestic mountains all around him just before a brief flash of light and pain ended his life.