Battle Siege (The Battle Series Book 3)

by Mark Romang

  “No thanks, Nathan. You can have it.”

  “Rule number one in wilderness survival is never forgo available food. You may not get a second chance.”

  “Okay, I’ll try a little.” She took a small amount from his hands and nibbled at it. “It’s not bad, I guess. When we get to the bunker I’m going to pig out. I’m just giving you fair warning.”

  Banks smiled. “Thanks for the heads-up.” He watched Brooke unzip her coat and lift her head skyward. She closed her eyes and allowed the sun to beam onto her face.

  “This is what I miss the most, Nathan. I used to go to the park on warm sunny days and lay on a blanket in the grass. Take a nap in the sun, forget about everything. But no one without a chip can do that anymore.”

  Banks watched Brooke open her eyes. He suddenly became aware of how beautiful her aquamarine eyes were. They were mesmerizing.

  “What little thing do you miss the most, Nathan?”

  Banks chewed and swallowed a mouthful of stonecrop before answering. “I miss coffee the most. I’ve tried making coffee alternatives with roots and leaves but it just doesn’t come out right. Starbucks used to be one of my vices. I’d get a 20 oz. espresso every day on the way to work.”

  “Espresso is way too strong for me. I stick with Starbuck’s Frappuccino myself.”

  “It’s not coffee unless its dark roast, Brooke. And don’t even get me started on iced coffee.”

  “Well, I can’t drink it black,” Brooke said. She looked at him funny, almost suspiciously. “Surely there is more than just coffee you miss.”

  Banks nodded. “I miss my electronic gadgets: my laptop and tablets, and my iPhone. And I miss Wi-Fi.”

  “You must’ve went through withdrawals when you came out here and became a caveman.”

  “I did. I wasn’t a happy camper. But you know what? You can survive without those things. Living out here boils life down to its essence. Out here all you worry about is finding water, shelter and food. Some days you find all three, and other days all you can find is shelter.”

  Brooke shivered, but not from the brisk air. “Thank-you for helping me, Nathan. Underneath your wooly hair and beard you’re a gentleman.”

  “I haven’t felt like a gentleman in a long time.”

  “Well, you rescued this damsel in distress. And now you’re helping me find the bunker. Something I could never do on my own.”

  “It’s the least I can do.” He looked at her closely, gauged her energy level. “We’re getting pretty close to the bunker coordinates. And I have a way to get us there faster. So have you caught your breath?”

  Brooke nodded. “I’m game to press on. Let’s go.”

  Banks pointed ahead. “Do you see the bend in the stream ahead, and the rocky cliff bracketing the stream? We’re going to leave the stream there and climb the cliff.”

  “Won’t we leave tracks, or bend down the grass or something once we’re up top?”

  “We will, but trust me. Once we reach the hillside we’re going to cover a long distance without disturbing the ground.”

  “What are we going to do, grow wings and fly?”

  Banks grinned and adjusted his backpack straps. “How did you guess? Come on, Brooke, follow me,” he said and headed for the exit point he showed her. He used rocks the best he could as stepping stones on the way to the bend. Brooke followed right behind him, careful to step on the same rocks.

  Once at the cliff, Banks stopped and gazed upward, looking for the best ascent route. He turned and faced Brooke who had caught up with him. “It doesn’t look too bad to me. It’s more like a steep hillside than a cliff. We can walk up most of it. Granted, we’ll be hunkered over, but I think we can use rocks and bushes for handholds,” he said.

  Brooke nodded. Okay, lead the way. You’re the wilderness guide.”

  Banks started up the hillside, walking upright at first, but then bear-walking as the steepness increased. He abandoned walking directly up and began angling up the hillside, grabbing rocks with his hands for leverage. “Doing okay back there?”

  “I haven’t fallen to my death yet. So I’d say I’m doing great,” Brooke answered.

  A rock gave way under Bank’s shoe and tumbled down, taking with it other rocks and dirt. “Look out!”

  “I’m okay, Nathan. Nothing hit me.”

  “The footing is getting really sketchy. But we’re almost to the top.” Bedraggled fir trees—no bigger than Charlie Brown Christmas trees—struggled to grow out of the rocky hillside. Banks grabbed hold of one to help pull himself up to the top. The tree groaned as it bent over but held his weight. Once he made it to horizontal ground he turned and held out a hand for Brooke. She grabbed his hand, and Banks pulled her up, noting the softness of her delicate hand. Her hands reminded him of Jenny’s.

  “Now where to?” Brooke asked, slightly out of breath.

  Banks pointed east. “Do you see that Douglas fir tree, the tallest one about forty yards away?”

  “There are fir trees everywhere. But I guess I see the one you’re talking about.”

  “Do you see the cable leaving it about halfway up?” He watched Brooke scan the trees.

  “Yeah, what is that?”

  “It’s a zip-line.”

  “Oh, I get your madness now. The zip-line is the wings to help us fly overland.”

  Banks nodded.

  “How did a zip-line get out here? I mean, obviously a human put it there. But who did it and why?”

  “There’s actually a whole system of zip-lines here on the peninsula if you know where to look. A community of preppers installed them. I helped a little bit. We use them to get around quickly.”

  Brooke shook her head. “This post-Rapture world is crazy. It’s like you and I are living in a world from a dystopian novel. The world no longer has nations, just sectors. America is now called Sector 12. And here on the Olympic peninsula preppers have built a series of zip-lines to travel around on and navigate the forest. It’s crazy if you think about it.”

  Banks nodded. “Somebody should write all this down. They might have a bestseller on their hands.”

  “Yeah, I just wish we weren’t the lead characters in it.”

  “Me too. But here we are. So let’s make the best of it.” Banks thought of something and looked at Brooke. “Do you have a second pair of shoes in your backpack?”

  “I have a pair of athletic shoes. They wouldn’t fit your big feet, though.”

  Banks laughed. “Good deal. Then let’s go hop on this zip-line,” he said as he headed for the fir tree.

  Brooke hurried up to him. “Wait a second, Nathan. We’ve spent almost three days covering our tracks, and now you’re traipsing in tall grass and snow without a care in the world, leaving all kinds of tracks behind.”

  “Trust me, Brooke. These tracks we’re making are all part of my plan. So enjoy the walk.”

  Chapter 22

  After climbing forty feet up the fir tree using split-log rungs screwed into its trunk, Banks and Brooke stood on the zip-line platform—a four by four foot particle-board platform, weathered to a dingy gray color.

  Designed for only one person, they scrunched together, shoulder to shoulder.

  Brooke looked up at the handlebar trolley. “Is this thing strong enough to hold both of us?”

  “It’s designed for only one. But you’re a wisp of a girl, and I don’t think I weigh more than one-sixty. We should be okay to ride tandem.”

  She looked at him, her face pale and confusion in her eyes. “What do I hang onto? And why aren’t we wearing harnesses?”

  Banks couldn’t help but smile. “These zip-lines are like backyard zip-lines, only bigger. No harnesses to wear and clip on. You just hold onto the handlebars. But in your case, you will hold on to me for dear life.”

  “You’re going to have to show me, Nathan.”

  Banks took her hands and placed them behind his neck. And then he placed his hands on her ribcage and lifted Brooke into the air. “Now
wrap your legs around my waist, just under my backpack.”

  “I will do no such thing. You are a complete stranger to me.”

  “My intentions are noble. This is a matter of safety for both of us.” He watched her roll her pretty eyes. But she did as he asked and wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. Banks grabbed the trolley handles before Brooke could further protest and stepped off the platform.

  There is always a moment of no return when stepping off a platform high in the air. It isn’t a natural thing to do, and it rebels against the body’s self-preservation instinct. Although he wasn’t afraid of heights, Banks always felt anxious just before leaving a zip-line platform. Luckily the doubt-riddled moment was always short, just like this time.

  The cable held under their combined weight and they picked up speed rapidly. A whizzing sound filled the forest as they slid down the cable. Brooke screamed in his ear. But it was more a little girl cry of delight than a fearful shriek.

  The distance from platform to platform was one-hundred and fifty yards. They covered the distance in 16 seconds or less. A few feet from the platform the trolley hit the braking block. The small cube of wood slowed their momentum, allowing them to land on the platform without falling back out the other side.

  Once he regained his balance and became upright, Brooke released her death grip from his neck and hopped down to her feet. She grinned a smile of relief. “I guess that wasn’t so bad. It was fun, actually.”

  Banks studied the cable leading away from the platform. He wanted to make sure there wasn’t another trolley hung up between the platforms. But the cable was clear. He grabbed the handlebars on the trolley. “Okay, climb aboard, Brooke. We have to do this one more time.”

  She looked at him mischievously. “I think you’re enjoying this a little too much.”

  He smiled back. “I like zip-lining. I always enjoy doing it.” But it’s even more fun when an attractive girl is clutching me tight, he thought.

  Brooke pressed against him, clasped her arms behind his neck as if she were embracing him. Banks grabbed the handlebars after Brooke wrapped her legs around him. “Are you ready?”

  “Let her rip, Nathan.”

  He stepped off the platform. They went careening down the cable once more. Between snatches of green, Mt. Deception’s snow-capped peak flashed by their periphery.

  Banks felt his arms tremble. Although Brooke was petite, holding up their combined weight strained his shoulders. His grip loosened. Banks gritted his teeth and marshaled his remaining strength. Life-threatening injuries would happen to both if they dropped to the ground from this distance.

  I’m not dying today. Neither is Brooke.

  He could see the braking block now. They sped toward it. It’s okay. Almost there.

  The braking block made a popping sound as the trolley smacked into it. Banks lifted his feet and they landed somewhat gracefully on the platform. Brooke stepped away from him.

  “Okay, this is as far as we go. We’ll climb down here. But you need to put on your other shoes now,” Banks said. He took off his pack and dug around inside for his other shoes.

  “I think I know what we’re doing. We’re leaving a different shoe print now. If someone is following us they’ll see the different tread marks and think we’re different people. And they’ll assume we kept on zip-lining.”

  Banks nodded. “It remains to be seen if they’ll fall for it.”

  They both changed footwear, and then climbed down the tree. Banks checked his compass. “Is there anything about the area where the bunker is that you can tell me about, any distinguishing land features we might be able to spot?”

  “I’ve never been there before. But Tanner once told me it’s on a rocky glade surrounded by timber on three sides. And it has a good view of Mt. Deception.”

  “That will help. We’ll keep our eyes peeled for a glade.”

  “So I take it we keep heading east?”

  Banks put his compass away and headed off. “Northeast, actually,” he said over his shoulder.

  They had traveled no more than thirty yards up a steep draw when they both heard the humming sound overhead. Banks grabbed Brooke and pulled her to the ground, holding her close. They hid under a Douglas fir.

  The humming grew in intensity. The drone sounded like it was right on top of them. Banks looked wildly around, prepared himself for flight. But escape would be harder this time. He had Brooke to worry about now.

  A shadow passed over them. They looked up and watched a drone pass over and head west, away from them. Soon the drone disappeared over a forested ridge, and with it the eerie humming sound.

  Banks let out a sigh. He realized he held Brooke protectively, like a husband would hold his wife when danger threatened. He let her go. They stood up.

  “Are you okay, Brooke?”

  She nodded, but without conviction. Her hands shook. Color slowly returned to her face. “That was terrifying. I never want to meet up with one of those things again.”

  Banks looked into the sky, in the direction the drone disappeared. “Me either. But I have a feeling I am. And you will too if you keep hanging out with me.”

  She looked at him questioningly. “You must be an important person that they keep hunting you.”

  Banks shook his head. “I’m no more important than anyone else. I’m just an ordinary man trying to survive another day.” He pulled off his backpack and set it down. He reached inside and pulled out four, square-shaped pieces of deer hide with the coat still intact on the backside of each piece. Laces came off both ends of the deer hide. He handed Brooke two squares of the deer hide. “Put these on your feet. It’s time we disappear again.”

  She took the hides and placed them under her soles, tying the laces around her ankles and tops of her feet. “You are really something else, Nathan. Who do you think is following us?”

  As Banks tied deer hides to his feet he said, “I hope no one is following us. But if there is someone I don’t want to make it easy on them. I’ve made it this long by being careful.”

  “I suppose you’re right. Paranoia serves a person well out here.”

  Banks looked at her intensely. “You can never be too careful, Brooke. One careless move, one moment of relaxing your vigilance…and you’re discovered. And when that happens…well, we won’t talk about what happens then.”

  Chapter 23

  Olympic Peninsula—that same moment

  Of all the emotions available to the human species, Tucker Stiggs only ever dealt with anger. At any hour in the day he felt angry, like now. He stood near a fallen Sitka spruce tree. Water dripped like a leaky faucet off his Stetson. His soaked clothes clung to his burly frame like they were his second skin.

  The sun—a rarity in this region—shined in full force. And yet he wore soaked clothes, courtesy the waterfall. Once he’d walked through spray he discovered the hidden archway, which led to a small canyon or bowl and the gently sloping hillside where he now stood.

  This whole area was difficult to find, a hidden spot from anyone on foot. It’s no wonder Banks has managed to stay at large for so long, he thought.

  Stiggs looked at the fallen tree. It had once been a massive giant in a rainforest noted for colossal trees. And yet it toppled because underneath its thick bark was a hollow shell. The tree held significance to Stiggs. It lay in the general vicinity where Nathan Banks was last spotted.

  Stiggs looked at the dirt around the tree. He saw bear prints everywhere. Bears were obviously thick in these parts. And yet their presence didn’t frighten him. Stiggs never felt fear. He hadn’t experienced fear since grade school, when he’d been bullied.

  Somewhere in the fourth grade, though, he started growing. And once he started towering over his classmates, the bullying stopped. He never felt fear again, not even on the college gridiron. When his defensive teammates worried about maintaining their gap discipline and defeating double teams, he never did. Stiggs kept the game simple. He simply shed his blockers an
d ran to the ball carrier, destroying them, and often hurting them so bad they left the game on a cart.

  If he came close to fearing something, it would be the fear of failure. He hated losing. Fortunately he couldn’t remember the last time he’d lost. Once he set out to capture a wanted rebel, he succeeded.

  Many rebels were cagy and caused him difficulty for a time. But he always caught up with them in the end. But this Nathan Banks character was like a ghost. He almost didn’t seem real.

  Stiggs squatted down on his haunches, ignoring the stabbing pain in his knees. Arthritis brought on by middle-age and too many blows to the knees from football helmets wreaked havoc with his flexibility. And yet when he needed to move quickly and with fluidity, he could still do it.

  Stiggs shined a flashlight inside the hollow tree. The hollow interior was big enough to allow a slender human to travel through. Stiggs studied the decomposing wood nearest him, shining his light on the area. The wood still felt hard, the decomposing process taking its sweet time with this tree.

  After several minutes of playing his light along the wood, Stiggs spotted an anomaly right under his nose. There was a worn-down place in the wood. It was smooth and harder than the wood surrounding it. A living thing made this impression. And it wasn’t an animal.

  Stiggs didn’t see any stray hairs from animal fur caught in the wood. And he didn’t see any claw imprints either. The impression was most likely created by a human knee or elbow as someone crawled through the tree. A human entered and exited this tree countless times. And I’m betting it was Nathan Banks, Stiggs thought.

  Stiggs wondered if Banks actually lived in the tree or just hid in it. It seemed unthinkable that anyone would voluntarily live in such a way, but Stiggs had witnessed many head-scratching things in his time.

  Desperate people do desperate things.

  Stiggs rose up from his squatting position and walked through the thimbleberry bushes that sprang up all around the mammoth log. He stopped when he came to a branch jutting up from the log. The branch had snapped off about a foot from the trunk.