by Victor Zugg
Sam made it to the tree line and dove for a clump of tall weeds just before the beam from the first vehicle’s headlights swung across the open field and over Sam’s back.
Beams from the second and third vehicle followed the same path, as each vehicle rounded a curve. They didn’t stop.
Sam heard Frank screaming orders and heard the men hollering. Sam didn’t turn his head to see how many. He didn’t move a muscle. Only when Sam heard the vehicles screech to a stop at the main road, out of sight from his current position, did Sam jump up and sprint into the thicker foliage. He found Hank and the others hunkered down fifty yards in, just as directed.
Huffing and puffing, Sam dropped to his knees next to Hank. “It’s only a matter of time until they come back and start combing the woods.”
“I know,” Hank said. “I can’t believe we’ve gotten this far. I can’t believe you pulled this off.”
Sam clamped his hand on Hank’s shoulder and nodded. “Me either. We need to keep moving. How’s Bill?”
“I’ll live; I think,” Bill grumbled. “Still a little dizzy, still have the headache, but I can run.”
Sam rose to a crouch. “Stay close to me. The Hummer is this way.” Sam motioned and then took off.
***
Tiff could barely see the outline of Chet’s face as he stood next to the Hummer. “That was a shit load of gunfire we heard, how long do we wait?” she asked.
“I don’t know what his plan was, but based on the gunfire, it must have met with some degree of success.”
“Or total failure,” Tiff said.
“If he made it out, he’ll be here soon. Let’s give it fifteen minutes, and then we head for the Best Western.”
Tiff nodded, stepped to the rear of the Hummer, and took a knee, rifle at the ready. Staring into the dark, she contemplated the situation. If Sam stirred up a hornet’s nest, which apparently he did, Frank’s men would be combing the areas immediately around the police department. If Tiff and Chet tried to move the Hummer, there was a very good chance they would be detected. Not good. But it was equally likely they would be detected if they stayed put, if not tonight, then certainly tomorrow morning. Also not good.
Tiff was on her third run-through of both scenarios when she heard something rustling in the distance. She low-whistled for Chet’s attention.
A few seconds later, Chet settled in the leaves next to her.
“Movement,” Tiff whispered. “Toward the main highway.”
Tiff felt Chet’s hand on her shoulder, and then he moved off to her right and took cover behind a tree.
Tiff waited. Again she heard rustling, like a group of men moving cautiously through the wet brush. Tiff lifted her rifle and pointed it in the direction of the noise.
Then she heard Sam’s voice, barely above a whisper. He said his name so Chet and Tiff would know he was approaching.
“Over here,” Tiff whispered back.
Then she saw the dark shapes of several people, six to be exact, approaching.
Sam walked up and stopped in front of Tiff. “Where’s Chet?”
“Over here,” Chet said as he joined the duo.
Then Hank and the others moved in close.
“I can’t believe you got them out in one piece,” Chet said.
Sam lightly slapped Chet on the arm. “It was a keystone cops maneuver, but it worked. I really thought we were goners there for a minute.”
“We’re not out of the woods yet,” Tiff said. “Literally. We’ll likely be found if we stay, or if we go.”
“You’re right,” Sam said. “They have all three vehicles out, and probably most of their men. They won’t go far. If we start that engine, they’ll be on us.”
“We have eight people here,” Hank said. “We could push this thing out of here.”
“How would we miss the trees in the dark?” Chet asked.
“Put a walker out front,” Sam said. “Wanda or Tiff.”
“I know the way,” Tiff said. “I’ll walk; Wanda can steer.”
“It’s probably eight thousand pounds, but it is downhill. We can try,” Sam said.
Chet herded everyone into position. All the men pushing from the rear, Wanda steering, Tiff walking. When everyone was set, Chet gave the order to push.
Tiff stood ten feet in front of the Hummer and watched as it slowly began to move. Luckily, they had parked with it facing the way they came in, so there was no need to turn around. It wasn’t moving fast, but it was moving. Tiff used a piece of white T-shirt in each outstretched hand to signal Wanda on which way to turn. Tiff recalled that they had pulled only about two-hundred feet off of Domar Drive. Not that far, unless you’re pushing a Humvee.
It took twenty minutes of moderate huffing, puffing, and grunting to get the truck to the asphalt. The men, breathing hard and exhausted, all dropped to the pavement.
Tiff walked around to the back of the Hummer. “This is no time for a siesta, boys. We still have some distance to go down this road.”
“Where does it lead?” Hank asked, as he exhaled sharply. “I’m not sure where we are.”
“Leads to the main road,” Sam said, still breathing hard. Sam held his hand out, palm up. “At least it stopped raining.”
The men got back to their feet and started pushing. Tiff pitched in this time, since there was enough light for Wanda to see the asphalt. The truck began to roll.
It was all slightly downhill to the main road, but it still took considerable effort to keep the hunk of metal moving. Everyone in the back heaved and huffed while Wanda steered. They made good progress.
Occasionally, Tiff would stop in the road and allow the others to push on while she did a complete three-sixty, listening for any indication that Frank’s men were closing. Satisfied, she would jog to catch up and resume pushing. This is the way it went for the half mile up Domar, and then another half mile east, and then north on Chestnut. Tiff was fully aware that when they reached the main road, they would only be a little over a mile from the cutoff to the police department. If Frank’s men were spread out along the main road, waiting for the Hummer to appear, it would only be seconds before they reacted to the sound of the engine starting. If she were Frank, that’s what she would do. Just wait. Sooner or later Sam and the gang would have to come out to the main road. There were no roads that went far enough south. Every back road and street from this area of town ended in the forest.
Tiff switched position at the rear of the Hummer, so she could be next to Sam. “I say we stop here and reconnoiter the main road first.”
Huffing, Sam lifted his head and looked at Tiff. “I was thinking the same thing.”
Sam whispered for everyone to stop pushing and let the Hummer come to a stop. “Chet, Tiff, and I are going to check the main highway,” he said, just loud enough for everyone to hear. “You guys take a breather.”
The guys huffed their approval and then dropped to the ground. Most of them rolled flat on their backs as they tried to get their breathing under control.
Sam, Chet, and Tiff retrieved their rifles from the Hummer, shuffled a hundred feet or so into the adjacent field, spread out in staggered single file, and began walking toward the main road. As they got closer, they began using what little cover there was, moving from bush to bush, tree to tree.
Twenty feet short of the main road, Sam stopped, went to his knees, and then prone in the short grass.
Chet and Tiff did the same next to him.
“I don’t see or hear anything,” Sam whispered.
“I don’t either,” Tiff said. “But I have an uneasy feeling.”
“Ditto,” Chet said. “Now what?”
Tiff could barely see Sam in the dark, but she heard the rustle of his hand rubbing his unshaved face. That was his signature stalling tactic when he was thinking, or just didn’t know what to do. In this case, Tiff didn’t have any suggestions. She did know that the situation would be worse if they waited until daylight. That’s when she had a thought.
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“They’re expecting us to leave,” Tiff said.
“Yeah, they’re waiting for us to leave,” Sam said.
Tiff shifted a little closer to Sam. “Let’s don’t leave.”
“What do you mean?” Chet asked.
“They expect us to leave,” Tiff said, “so we attack instead.”
“Spoken like a true warrior,” Chet said. “They have at least eleven mean, angry men who eat and sleep death and destruction. We have an airline pilot, a couple of navy desk jockeys, and whatever Pete does for a living. Some, or all of us, will die. That’s all I have to say on the matter.”
Tiff turned her head toward Sam. “Now that we’ve heard from him, what do you think?”
“I think if we stay, we die; if we go, we die; if we attack, we die. And even if we do get lucky, escape and make it back to the cabin, they’ll show up sooner or later. I get the impression this is personal.”
“They’ll follow us to the cabin,” Chet said. “We can’t outrun their pickups.”
“All the more reason to attack now,” Tiff said. “We have surprise and the unexpected on our side. The best defense is a strong offense.”
“Did the marines teach you that?” Chet asked, a little louder than necessary.
“As a matter of fact, they did.”
“Alright, hold it down,” Sam said. “Anybody see or hear anything?”
“No,” Chet and Tiff said in unison.
“Let’s get back to the Hummer,” Sam said. “Bill is the only other guy with any tactical experience, maybe he has some ideas.”
They got to their feet and trotted in a low crouch back the way they had come until the vague shape of the Hummer was in sight. They slowed to a walk. Sam whispered their approach and then they joined the group, mostly still on the pavement in back of the Hummer. Wanda was keeping watch.
Sam and Tiff stopped next to Hank who was getting to his feet. Chet dropped to the pavement, reclined to his back, and rested his rifle on his stomach.
“What did you see?” Hank asked.
“Saw nothing and heard nothing,” Sam said.
“But they are there,” Tiff said. “Count on it. Start this vehicle and they’ll be on us in seconds.”
“We need to discuss our options,” Sam said. “Everybody gather around. Where’s Bill?”
“I think he went to sleep over there,” Lance said, as he approached. He pointed to Bill still lying on his back.
Tiff walked over and knelt. She poked Bill on the arm. “Bill you awake?” Tiff placed her hand on Bill’s chest. “He’s not asleep; he’s dead.”
CHAPTER 18
“What do you mean he’s dead?” Hank asked, as he rushed over and knelt. “He was pushing the Hummer a few minutes ago.”
Sam rushed over and felt for any wounds on his body which might have been missed. “I don’t think he was hit.”
Everyone else gathered around Bill.
A drizzling rain started up again.
Wanda shielded Bill’s face from the raindrops with a towel. “Heart attack?”
“I don’t know,” Sam said. “A brain hemorrhage is more likely. Creased by that bullet, or it could be from getting whacked back at the food riot. Pushing the Hummer probably didn’t help.”
“We can’t leave him here,” Lance said.
Hank got to his feet. “We’re not going to leave him here, let’s load him in the Hummer for now. We’ll bury him tomorrow.”
“If any of us are still alive,” Wanda said.
Everyone helped lift Bill’s body and place it in the back of the Hummer.
“We still have the problem of getting out of here,” Chet said, as he closed the hatch. “I don’t like the odds with Tiff’s idea.”
“What was Tiff’s idea?” Pete asked.
“Attack,” Chet said. “An all out assault.”
Pete dropped his chin.
“I don’t like that idea much either,” Hank said.
“Abandon the Hummer,” Lance said.
Sam jerked his head to the sound of Lance’s voice. His face was barely visible in the dark. “What?”
“We abandon the Hummer,” Lance said. “Hike out of here in the dark.”
“We don’t lose any more people that way,” Hank said. “Unless someone gets snake bit.”
Sam rubbed his face, with particular emphasis on the stubble. He glanced at the Hummer. “Hate to do that.”
“I don’t see any other option,” Hank said.
“What about Bill?” Tiff asked.
“No choice,” Hank said. “We’ll have to leave him.”
Sam couldn’t make out the expression on Hank’s face, but by the tone in his voice, even he was reluctant.
“We can’t leave him in the Hummer,” Tiff said.
“I don’t want to just leave him on the road for the buzzards,” Pete said. “He was too good to me the last couple of days for that.”
“Yeah, I’m not leaving him on the road,” Lance said.
“We bury him,” Chet said. “We take the time to bury him.”
Sam opened the Hummer’s rear hatch, reached in, and then turned to the group. “All we have is this trenching tool.”
“That’s enough,” Pete said, as he took the tool from Sam’s hands, and walked out into the field adjacent to the Hummer.
Sam heard the sounds of digging. “Let’s get him out of the truck and over to the site.”
Chet, Hank, Lance, and Wanda took hold of Bill’s body, lifted it from the truck, and shuffled over to where Pete was digging.
Sam turned to Tiff. “We need to form a perimeter,” he said, as he retrieved his rifle from the truck.
Tiff grabbed her rifle and began walking down the road in front of the Hummer.
Chet joined Sam. “Where’s she going?”
“Perimeter,” Sam said.
Sam saw Chet’s chin nod up and down, and then he picked up his rifle from the truck.
***
Everyone gathered around the makeshift grave and observed a few moments of silence for Bill.
He will be missed, Sam thought.
Everyone quietly mumbled their thoughts as they sauntered back toward the Hummer.
Sam walked back over to the Hummer and began stuffing extra ammo into his backpack.
Chet and Tiff walked up and began organizing their gear.
“We need to take all the ammo,” Sam said. “Can’t leave any of it behind.”
“How far are we going?” Lance asked, as he Wanda, Hank, and Pete joined the group at the side of the Hummer.
“My cabin, north of here, about three miles,” Sam said. “Maybe a little farther, given the circuitous route we’ll need to take.”
“Out to Tremont,” Hank said, “the only way is along the highway. Otherwise we’ll be climbing mountains.”
Sam slung his pack to his back and secured the chest strap. “Right, we’ll follow a route at least fifty yards off the highway. Once we make the turn south, we need to travel closer to the road because of the rough terrain.”
“I think we should disable the Hummer,” Tiff said.
“Cable lock the steering wheel,” Sam said. “And there must be some wire you can remove from the engine.”
“There is,” Tiff said, as she moved to the front of the truck, popped the hood, and stuck her head in.
A few moments later, Sam heard the hood close as gently as possible, and then Tiff returned to the group.
“All done,” Tiff said, as she stuck a wire into her pack. She then began stuffing ammo, water bottles, and anything else of use into her pack.
Hank, Pete, Lance, and Wanda didn’t have packs, or much of anything else, except the rifles and pistols they grabbed from the police department. Still soaking wet, they bunched together at the front of the Hummer, weapons in hand, ready to move out.
Sam took a final long look at the Hummer in the dark, and then heard Chet shuffle closer. “It’s like déjà vu, huh,” Chet said.
“You
mean my buggy we had to abandon on the way up here from Florida,” Sam said.
Chet nodded.
“Yeah, about the same,” Sam said. “A shit sandwich both times.”
“The difference is,” Chet said, “there’s a good chance we’ll get this one back.”
“Maybe,” Sam said, as he turned his attention forward, and walked to the front of the group. “Quiet as mice,” Sam said. He then turned and walked out across the field to the east. Everyone followed. Tiff positioned herself in the middle of the group. Chet brought up the rear.
Sam had only gone a few yards when his toe kicked a rock and he stumbled. Because of the weight on his back, catching himself before falling was that much more difficult. The real effort was holding back a line of obscenities aimed at the rock and his clumsiness. Falling could make just enough noise to give away their position. Noise travels in the dark. And breaking, or even twisting, an ankle would be the final straw in an already horrendous night. He clinched his jaw, slowed his pace, and took more deliberate steps.
Three-hundred yards farther across the open field, Sam came up to a line of thick vegetation. He remembered that a streambed ran north and south in that section of Townsend. He figured he had found it. He parted the branches and stepped forward down a slight incline. He had gone only a few feet when he heard bubbling water. He recalled that the stream was not deep, only a few inches, and wasn’t wide, so he pressed on intending to walk straight through.
Just as he started to step into the water he heard a truck engine start up. He froze. The sound came directly from his left, due north, out on the highway. Sam glanced back and saw that nearly everyone had passed into the foliage. Only Chet and Hank were still in the open field. Sam saw two beams of light swing across the open field as though the truck was turning around. He heard a grunt, and looked back to see Chet and Hank flat on the ground, only a few feet from the tree line. The lights swung back across the field toward Chet and Hank and then stopped. The light illuminated Chet’s backpack. Given the black T-shirt and dark tactical pants he wore, the rest of him remained relatively hidden. The truck, maybe seventy-five yards away, still on the highway, didn’t move, and the headlights continued to illuminate the backpack. Sam hoped it would look more like a rock from seventy-five yards away. Then he heard a truck door open and slam shut. And then a second door opened and shut. Nope, it must look like a backpack.
