by Victor Zugg
Sam spun his body around and motioned with both hands, rifle in one of them, for Lance, Wanda, Pete, and Tiff to sink to the ground. Sam turned in the direction of the headlights, dropped to one knee, and leveled his rifle. The trees and brush were thick enough to hide their presence, but only if they didn’t move. Sam looked through his magnified sight and was able to highlight the truck, and the two men standing beside it. Their images were broken up by leaves and branches, but Sam could see enough to know they had been spotted. Or at least, Chet’s backpack had been spotted. Then he heard the sound of another truck engine approaching from farther west down the highway. The headlights must have signaled others to come.
The truck engine revved and then Sam heard the tires squeal to a stop. Then he heard the sound of doors opening and closing and people mumbling. Sam peered through his sight and confirmed that three more men had arrived.
Sam whispered for Pete, Lance and Wanda to stay put, and to shoot from the cover of the trees if the men started walking across the field.
Sam then whispered for Tiff to follow him.
She got into a low crouch and shuffled forward until she was behind Sam. “What’s the plan?” She asked.
“Continue through these trees, north up the other side to the highway, and then approach their flank or their rear if they start into the field.”
Sam saw the dim image of Tiff’s face nod up and down as she repositioned her rifle and adjusted her backpack.
“Should we leave the packs?” Tiff asked.
“That’s a good idea,” Sam said, as he wrestled an arm out of the strap and then slung the pack to the ground.
Tiff shrugged out of her pack.
Lance approached in the dark. “I’ll watch these,” he said, as he picked one up in each hand.
“Everything we own is in there,” Sam said, “including the extra ammo and water.”
“No worries,” Lance said.
In a low crouch, Sam and Tiff turned and carefully trudged through the water, up the opposite bank, and then slowly moved from bush to bush, pausing behind each.
A few yards later, they emerged from the foliage into another open field.
“Wouldn’t they expect this?” Tiff whispered.
“Let’s hope they don’t.”
The headlights were still visible through the full thickness of the vegetation. The trucks weren’t moving, and the men on the highway weren’t moving either. They were waiting on more men, or they weren’t sure of what to do. Sam figured it was the former.
Sam low-trotted up the east side of the tree line, to a spot only twenty yards from the highway. He led Tiff back into the trees and brush and cautiously maneuvered through the vegetation until there were only a few trees, and a couple of short bushes, that provided cover. The group of men was in plain view on the highway, only a few yards away. They were roughly behind the two trucks, but from Sam’s angle they would be easy targets. Sam played the scenario through his head if he were to start shooting from his present position. No provocation. Just blast away. Sam figured he could probably cut their numbers in half, leaving only two or three to deal with. The gunfire would certainly bring the others. The others. Sam began to wonder why the rest of Frank’s men, and Frank himself, had not arrived. He also wondered what these men were waiting on. Frank could have traveled five miles in the time they had been here.
Sam focused on the conversation. He heard the men talking, but couldn’t quite make out the words. It suddenly dawned on Sam why they were waiting. The headlights marked the spot so that Frank and the rest of the men could move up from behind. They had probably already found the Hummer and were moving in from there. Sam got a sick feeling in his stomach. These men were meant to keep everyone’s attention on them, while Frank moved closer and closer, probably from the same route Sam had navigated across the open field.
Sam turned to Tiff at his side and motioned for her to go back the way they had come.
She immediately rose to a low crouch and carefully stepped away until they were both out of the woods.
Sam then took the lead and jogged south along the tree line until they were out of voice range of the group of men on the highway.
“Frank has to be moving the rest of his men in from the rear or flank,” Sam said. “Either he’s coming across the open field the way we did, or he’s circling around well to our rear. He’ll cross the stream vegetation much farther south, and then have us cut off as we try to escape.
Tiff swiveled her head in all directions and then sank to a knee.
Sam knelt beside her.
“I would opt for the latter,” Tiff said. “They could already be moving in from the west.”
“That’s what I would do as well,” Sam said. “We could just blast our way through these guys on the highway and take one of the trucks.”
Tiff glanced at the tree line. “We’d certainly take casualties. And if we get pinned down, Frank would be able to move in from behind. I say we use the cover of the stream bed to move everyone south, away from the highway. All the way to the mountains, if we have to. And we need to do it before Frank gets into position.”
Sam nodded his head. “How do we get Chet and Hank out of that field without getting shot?”
“Diversion,” Tiff said. “Give me five minutes to get back to the group, and then you fire a couple of shots at the goons on the highway. As soon as I hear the first shot, I’ll get Chet and Hank moving.”
“Might work,” Sam said. “Okay, you head back to the guys. I’ll move back up, wait five minutes or so, and then start shooting.”
Tiff got to her feet. “Remember, only a couple of shots, and then hightail it down this tree line. We’ll wait for you about a hundred yards south of where Chet and the guys are now.”
“Done,” Sam said, as he rose. “Keep it quiet.”
“Will do,” Tiff said, as she turned and trotted off.
Sam watched her disappear in the dark and then made his way back to where he and Tiff had been watching the highway.
CHAPTER 19
Tiff kept her focus on the ground, with an occasional glance to the left, as she loped along the tree line. She was wary of tripping over something, and she thought it was possible Frank had already made it around to the east. He might even be watching her as she ran. She didn’t know the kind of gear he might have, but it was highly likely that he possessed night-vision equipment. If that was the case, Sam could be in for trouble after he fired at the men on the highway. She picked up her pace to the maximum possible, given the uneven ground.
She reached the boulder that marked the spot where she and Sam exited the thin line of trees. She paused for a moment, listened, and then stepped into the trees. A couple of minutes had already passed, and she didn’t want Sam to start shooting before she got back to the guys. Still, she didn’t want to step on a branch and give away her position. And there was always the chance of getting shot by her people. She would just have to hope Pete, Lance, and Wanda would know it was her returning. She moved quickly, but carefully.
Tiff reached the stream, stepped through the water, and then slogged up the opposite bank. She ducked low and stepped carefully until she saw the dark globs of Pete, Lance, and Wanda hunkered on the ground.
She paused for a moment next to Wanda.
“What’s up?” Wanda whispered.
“No time to explain,” Tiff said. “Just be ready to move. Let Pete and Lance know.”
Tiff continued through the trees until she was at the very edge of the west side of the tree line. She got to her stomach and crawled out until she was only inches from Hank’s face. “When you hear the first gunshot, jump into the woods,” she said. “Don’t hesitate and don’t take the time to look around. Just move. Back crawl and let Chet know. You have about one minute.”
Tiff then back crawled until she was inside the tree line. She rose to a low crouch and shuffled over to where Pete, Lance, and Wanda waited.
A few seconds later she heard the f
irst blast from Sam’s rifle, followed immediately by at least ten other rounds. So much for two shots.
Tiff heard Chet and Hank jump to their feet and scurry into the trees. They stopped and knelt next to Tiff. “What’s the plan?” Chet asked.
At that moment a barrage of gunfire opened up from the highway, the return fire, including a few rounds at the ground where Chet and Hank had been.
“Through these woods, south,” Tiff said. “We wait for Sam a hundred yards down. Actually, he might get there first, since he’ll be running along the tree line in the open field. We need to move.”
“Lead the way,” Chet said. “I’ll bring up the rear.”
She immediately stood and began leading everyone south, through the thin line of trees and brush that followed the narrow stream, through the two open fields to the east and west. If Tiff remembered correctly, this ribbon of green continued at least a mile, all the way to where foothills gave way to the more rugged peaks and valleys of the Smoky Mountains. At that point, Sam’s cabin would be southeast, over two miles, through extremely rugged terrain. Tiff doubted she and the others could negotiate the crags and gullies without risk of serious injury. Pretty much the only way to Sam’s cabin would be back out to the main highway. That’s what they would have to do at some point. But they could worry about that later.
***
Sam exited the brush on the east side of the tree line and raced south. He stepped as carefully as possible, in the dark, on the uneven terrain of the open field. He thought he might have hit at least one of the four men with his ten round burst. He didn’t wait around to make sure. He just ran. The return fire clipped a few branches over his head, but he made it through the trees and out to the open field on the east side, without being hit. Soon after that, the firing stopped. He figured the men on the highway might be giving chase, so Sam quickened his pace.
As he ran, he kept his focus on the ground in front of him, with an occasional glimpse to his left. Tiff was probably right about Frank and more of his men moving in from the east, his left. And they probably had night vision capabilities. They came through Marysville and they would have ransacked the police department and maybe the sheriff’s office for anything useful. Night vision would be very useful in this situation. Sam wished he had a set of goggles.
Sam was almost back to where Chet and Hank were pinned down on the other side of the narrow strip of woods. Tiff would have gotten them up and moving by now, so there was no point in stopping. Sam intended to press on at full bore for another hundred yards, and then duck into the woods and locate the group. Of course, a million things could go wrong. Sam thought of the line in the Robert Burns poem, best laid plans of mice and men. Actually, Burns wrote best laid schemes of mice and men. The word plans was the modern translation. Either way, it applied to a lot of Sam’s past adventures. Things rarely went as expected. But this might be one of those rare occasions, Sam thought, as he approached the hundred yard mark where he was supposed to meet Tiff and the others.
He slowed and ducked into the tree line. At that very moment, shots rang out in the distance from his left. Sam heard the rounds rip through leaves and branches a yard or two farther down. One smacked a tree trunk only a few feet away. If he had kept running at full speed, he would have been nailed. Pure luck. Luck had saved his life more times than he could count.
Sam ducked lower, trotted a few more feet, and then took cover behind a large tree. More shots. The rounds chewed up the brush to the left and right of his tree. He slid closer to the ground, went prone, and began crawling toward the middle of the small strip of forest.
Once he reached a spot farther into the trees and better protected from the gunfire, he got to his feet in a crouch and dashed through the stream. He took cover again on the other side and dropped to a kneeling position. He looked around in the dark, but saw no sign of the others. He was pretty sure he was about a hundred yards south of where Chet and Hank were pinned, but obviously they weren’t here. He either ran too far, or not far enough. Which way to go? North, toward the highway, or south, toward the mountains. He opted for south.
Sam rose to a crouch and began slipping from tree to tree in the dark. Suddenly, the gunfire stopped, and so did he. Without the noise to mask his steps he would have to move with more stealth. He doubted Frank and his men would approach the strip of trees from the open field, for fear of becoming sitting ducks, but they might.
He took his next step, and the ones after, with more care. He had gone only twenty yards when he heard a psst. The unmistakable sound of Chet’s voice up ahead. Sam whispered his name into the darkness and then continued moving forward until he saw a dark glob that would be Chet in the kneeling position. Sam knelt next to him.
“Everyone here?” Sam asked, in a barely audible voice.
“Yep, Tiff’s up front, waiting for a direction from you.”
“You heard the firing,” Sam said. “That was from the east. Had to be Frank and the rest of his men.”
“So we have a force to our left flank and one to our rear,” Chet said. “There might even be some men on our right flank.”
“Yeah, and they know we pretty much have only one direction to travel.”
“We should move quickly then,” Chet said.
Sam clapped Chet on the shoulder and rose to a crouch. He stepped carefully passing Pete, Hank, Wanda, and Lance, in turn. He put his hand on each of their shoulders, let them know they would be moving south, and to get ready. He knelt next to Lance. “I can take the pack,” Sam said.
Lance slipped the straps over his arms and passed the pack to Sam. Sam put both arms through the straps and then adjusted the weight on his back. “We’ll be moving in a sec.”
Sam shuffled up next to Tiff.
“Into the mountains?” she asked.
“That’s really the only way we can go,” Sam said. “I want to take these trees all the way to the mountains, another mile or so. There’s a road there we’ll need to take back, northeast about half a mile, to a one-lane road that winds through the mountains east. It will dead end within three hundred yards of the main road. The terrain there is doable even in the dark; I’ve hiked through that area. We’ll be close to the Tremont turn.”
“Won’t Frank know that and follow the same way?”
“Well, he’s not from here, so he probably doesn’t know about the road,” Sam said. “But even if he does, or if he finds it, he won’t follow in the dark. He’d be ripe for an ambush.”
Sam saw the dark blob of Tiff’s face nod up and down. Sam got to his feet in a crouch. “Pass the word we’re moving. Stay close and stay low. We’re in stealth mode.” He then turned south and began making his way through the vegetation. He heard the rustling in the brush as the group followed close behind.
Sam led the group through the trees and brush south toward the mountains. He just hoped he didn’t step on a snake.
An hour later he ran into a steep incline, the foot of the first mountain due south. He turned left and followed the edge of the incline around to the east and then south, until finally he stepped up onto the gravel of the single lane Bethel Church Road.
Everyone bunched up around him on the road.
The white gravel reflected more light, and he was actually able to make out some details of their faces. That also meant they would make an easier target if Frank happened to be near.
Sam motioned north. “A quarter mile and then we link up with Orchard Road.”
Chet shuffled closer. “What about Frank and his men?”
“The open field he was on will be to our left, through a few feet of trees, as we travel up this road. Let’s spread out in patrol formation until we get on Orchard. We should be safe from there.”
Everyone mumbled acknowledgement as Sam turned and marched off, followed by Tiff. Chet again brought up the rear. The crunch in the gravel was louder than Sam would have liked, but it couldn’t be helped. Speed was more important.
Sam went fifty yards and th
en stopped with his fist in the air. Everyone stopped behind him and immediately turned toward the open field. Part of a moon was high up in the sky and provided just a bit of light. Sam was able to see the open field to the north and west through the trees. He took his time perusing the field, looking for movement. He saw none and wondered what Frank was up to. Sam tried to put himself in Frank’s position, knowing that his prey had to be moving south. Follow the stream bed to the mountains, or head west back to the Hummer? If Frank anticipated Sam’s direction south to the mountains, what then? East, west, or through the mountains? And there was always the possibility of an ambush. If it was Sam doing the pursuing, he’d probably call it a night, regroup, and try to find the cabin. Frank knew Sam’s name. Property records were still available. And there were several people in town who knew where Sam lived. It wouldn’t be long before Frank knew the location of the cabin.
Sam pumped his fist in the air twice, turned, and began trotting. Speed was not only important, it was imperative.
A few minutes later, Sam and the group arrived at the turnoff for Orchard Road. He didn’t pause. He rounded the corner and jogged west into the thick of the mountains. The single-lane of Bethel Church turned into an even narrower single-lane, still with the same gravel. The foliage to the left and right became denser as the road wound around steep grades, through gullies, and over hills. The trees closed in with a tight canopy that blocked nearly all the moon’s light. Sam could barely see the road. He adjusted his rifle in his hands and pushed on.
As the crow flies, it would only be about a mile to the main road. But the switchbacks stretched it to probably three miles, maybe four. Sam couldn’t judge how much farther he had to go, but it was some distance.
