by Mike Kraus
They wound around the outer edge of the city, traveling no more than twenty or so miles an hour. The journey lasted several more minutes, and by the time the vehicles began to slow to a stop, Sarah had to lean over and punch Dianne in the arm to get her to stop tossing brass onto the ground.
“Dianne!” Sarah hissed at her and Dianne shook her head in confusion. She had been lost in her own thoughts, speculating and wondering about what would happen next. She looked around as the truck’s brakes whined and the engine coughed and sputtered before finally dying.
The closest homes and stores were a good half mile away, past scattered trees and wide-open fields. Old, rusted-out fences outlined three squares in the nearby fields and the once-trimmed grass was completely overgrown. Vines pulled and tugged at the bleachers near the fences, working with the never ending cycles of sun and rain to splinter the wood and wrap around the metal frames. A dilapidated one-story wooden building stood off from the fields, the lettering above the front door too faded to read in the darkness, though there was a glimmer of light through the cracks in the boards covering the windows.
“We’re out at the edge of town. Isn’t this where the old baseball fields used to be?” Dianne leaned in close to Sarah and whispered to her.
“Yeah, before they moved to the new ones closer in. You think they took over the old community center?”
“Why yes. Yes we did.” The voice came from near the front of the truck and both women turned in their seats to see the origin. The man in the red shirt was leaning up against the front of the vehicle, one hand resting on a holster on his hip while the other fished a cigarette out of his front pocket. “After you… idiots trashed our base we had to construct a new one.” He pulled the cigarette out, stuck it in his mouth and lit it. “Of course, we barely got started so there’s plenty of work left for you two. And your little ones.”
The men who had been riding in the truck walked around to the back and opened the bed, then began pulling boxes of supplies out. “Who are you?” Dianne asked, unable to keep a look of pure hatred off of her face. Her tone matched her expression, but the man in the red shirt chuckled as he exhaled a plume of smoke, amused by her anger.
“Kenneth Nealson.” He crossed one leg in front of the other and extended his arms in a mock curtsy. “Parolee and your new boss.” His smile turned cruel as the last of the boxes were pulled from the back of the truck. “Get ‘em out, get ‘em chained and put ‘em with the rest.” His voice raised as he spoke, and Dianne and Sarah turned to look on the other side of the truck, realizing that he was speaking to more than just them.
“The rules around here have changed since you destroyed our little gas and trading operation.” Four other people were standing out near the truck, bound together by ankle chains as they moved the boxes from the ground into the nearby building. They looked at Dianne, Sarah and the two children with sympathetic expressions as Kenneth continued. “Now there’s just one rule: you work or you die.”
***
The initial energy felt by Jason, Tina and Mark as they discovered the trail of brass breadcrumbs only took a few hours to wane. Jason was the primary reason why they had to slow down, though it wasn’t entirely his decision. Tina was more than slightly concerned about his injury and forced him to slow down to a moderate walking pace as they trudged along the paved road.
Discarded brass was still appearing on the ground at short intervals and the change of road type and full appearance of the sun meant that it was much easier to spot. They didn’t bother picking up any of the brass and Mark had even emptied his pockets of the few pieces he had collected before, tired of the sharp edges digging through and poking him in the leg.
The weather turned pleasant within an hour of sunrise and they had unzipped their jackets, grateful for another brief respite from the bitter cold that had intermittently plagued the region. Comfortable warmth soon turned to sweat, though, forcing them to slow down even further as they struggled to mix comfort with security and the desire to find their missing family and friends as soon as possible.
It wasn’t until just after noon that they reached the edge of town and, at that point, Tina veered suddenly off of the road to sit down on the front porch of a nearby home. Jason and Mark, too tired to argue, joined her and the three sat in silence as they dug through their packs and divvied up some of the few supplies they had scrounged from the house. Deep, panting breaths soon turned slower and more regular as they gulped water and tore into packaged energy bars and it wasn’t long before Tina spoke.
“How much farther do you think they went?”
The question wasn’t directed at anyone in particular, but Mark was the first to respond. “I kind of figured they would go back to the gas station. You all talked about their setup there.”
“Like I said,” Jason cleared his throat and took another sip of water, “we did a number on that place. We’re heading in the wrong direction to be headed there so they must have picked somewhere else.”
“Yeah, but where?” Mark finished his bottle of water and put it down on the porch. “The trail of casings have us going around the edge of town but who knows how far it’ll go?” The volume and pitch of Mark’s voice was steadily rising until Tina clamped a hand down on his shoulder, holding him firmly in place.
“Mark. Take a breath.” He looked over at her and she continued. “I know you’re scared. I know you don’t want to admit that you’re scared. That’s okay. You don’t have to. I’m scared too, though. So’s Jason. So’s Sarah, your mom, Jacob and Josie. They’re all scared more than we are. But we’re going to find them, okay?” Tina’s voice was soothing, chasing away the fear and trepidation in Mark’s mind with reassurance and a sense of confidence.
“Best get back to it.” Jason took a long breath, sighed deeply and slowly stood to his feet. Mark and Tina followed, and the three headed back to the road, picking up on the trail of casings and continuing on.
As the trio settled into their walking pattern—Jason on the left side of the street, Mark in the middle and Tina on the right—they expected to be continuing on for quite a while. When Mark stopped in his tracks not ten minutes after they had left the porch, both Tina and Jason were confused.
“Mark?” Tina looked at him, then looked in the direction he was staring. Down the road, on the right, were a series of wide fields. A couple of farms with small houses and barns sat off in the middle of them, and beyond them—just barely visible to her—was the old community center and baseball fields.
“Someone’s down there.”
Jason raised his rifle and peered down the scope as he knelt down to steady his aim. “Where?”
“That building down there, off to the right a bit.”
“He’s talking about the community center—the abandoned one.”
“Mm. I don’t—wait. Holy Toledo, you weren’t kidding.” Jason shook his head. “What I wouldn’t give to have your eyes. I can barely make anything out even with this optic.”
Tina knelt down as well and squinted as she looked through her 4x optic. There were a collection of vehicles parked in a ring out in front of the building and the shapes of more than a few people moving around outside the brown building. Details beyond that were impossible to make out, but it was obvious to all of them what they were seeing.
“That’s got to be where Mom is. Isn’t it?” Mark looked over at Jason, then at Tina, who finally replied after a long second.
“Let’s go find out, shall we?”
Chapter 10
Washington, D.C.
Rick sat on the floor next to Jane in a glass-enclosed conference room, their hands bound in front of them with zip-ties. Outside, in the hall, Carl stood on watch, his flashlight pointed at the pair to make sure they couldn’t go anywhere. Even if Rick and Jane had wanted to try and fight back, though, the removal of their filtration masks had made doing so nearly impossible. The smell was still as unbearable as when they first cracked the place open and both of them had vo
mited the full contents of their stomachs. Every movement was both nauseating and, thanks to their dehydration, painful as well.
Rick turned his head from the light and closed his eyes, taking a slow breath through his mouth to try and ward off any further nausea. “How long’s it been?”
“Why would I know? It feels like days.”
“Weeks.”
“You think they let Dr. Evans and the techs keep their masks?”
“I don’t see how they could work down here without them.” There was a long pause before Rick spoke again. “I wonder why they haven’t just killed us already.”
“You’ve worked with stuff like this before, like Dr. Evans. They probably want to make sure they don’t have a use for you first.”
“What about you?”
“Oh, gee, thanks.” Jane snorted and quickly regretted the swift intake of air that followed. “Way to make me feel useless.”
“No, that’s… no, sorry. Not what I meant.”
“I’m jerking your chain. I know exactly what you meant. I don’t know, though. Maybe they think I know more than I do.”
Rick’s eyes fluttered open at the statement. His mind started to race, connecting more dots and wondering if maybe—just maybe—there might be a way for them to get an advantage over the Russians after all.
“How much have you and Dr. Evans discussed Damocles? On a technical level?” Rick asked, still keeping his head to the side and moving his lips as little as possible.
“He’s talked a lot about it, in great detail. I’ve tuned a lot of it out, though.”
“Do you think you could bluff your way through some of it? Repeat a few things he said?”
Jane’s face crinkled in confusion. “Why would I do that?”
“If we stay here, in this room, they’re going to kill us eventually. If one or both of us can get mobile, though, maybe we can take advantage of a slipup. Grab a gun, free Dr. Evans or the techs… something. Anything’s better than sitting here waiting for death.”
There was silence for a long moment before Jane’s whisper came through, barely audible even in the silent room. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m… that’s not me. I can’t do that kind of thing.”
“Yes you can.”
“No, I—”
“Remember Vegas? And then, after you got hurt coming into the city? You’ve been incredibly strong. And you can do this.”
“Why can’t you?”
“They already know I know about the system, but they know my knowledge is limited. You can play yourself off as his assistant. Start a scene about him needing medication or something, then talk about Damocles to sell it. Just make it seem real. They’ll take you to him, I’m sure of it.”
“What do I do then?”
“You wait for the opportune moment and seize it. Seize it and don’t let go of it.”
Jane took in a long, slow breath and grimaced. “This smell is awful.”
“No kidding.” Another long silence. “You ready?”
“Nope.”
Chapter 11
Ellisville, VA
“…damned briars.”
“Language, Jason!”
“Tina, the boy’s watched people die. Pretty sure he’s not going to be harmed by—”
“Guys! Seriously! Do you want them to hear us?”
Tina and Jason stared at Mark, who was looking at them both with wide eyes from which metaphorical daggers were being fired. Tina elbowed Jason in the side and continued walking forward through the woods, clinging to trees and branches as she went along to keep her footing on the steep slope.
With everything on the opposite side of the road being open land with nary a single object to mask their approach, Mark, Jason and Tina had been forced up the slope on the left side of the road which was thickly wooded and overgrown despite losing its foliage to the winter season. The trees and brush were thick and never traversed, which made the walking slow, painful and cumbersome. The only good part about their path was that they could walk along without fear of being spotted by anyone.
As they came to a small clearing in the woods, Tina stopped to catch her breath and waited for Mark and Jason to catch up. They both came stumbling out through the trees, both of them tripping and almost falling over the same exposed root that Tina had deftly avoided. She ignored their mumbled groans and pointed down the hill, across and up the road just a little bit farther.
“We’re nearly across from the community center. And, as a bonus, the hill’s starting to flatten out. Should make for a lot easier and less noisy approach.”
Mark bobbed his head in all directions, trying to find an unobstructed view through the dense branches and brown vines. “How are we supposed to see them from here? It’s too thick.”
Jason slowly dropped down to one knee, then sank back into a sitting position. “We’ll have to move forward, closer to the edge of the trees.”
“Then what?” Tina leaned against a nearby trunk for support. “It’s wide open all around the building, including the front.”
“We’ll have to wait for an opportunity to present itself.” Jason took another sip of water and began checking the straps on his pack.
“Or we can just spread out and open fire on them.” Mark looked through the trees at the obscured building. “Surely with the element of surprise we could—”
“No. We’re three poorly-armed people against a large group that’s heavily armed.” Jason shook his head. “No, we have to be smart about this. We do have to be ready to jump on any opportunity that comes along, though.”
“Agreed.” Tina nodded and picked up her backpack. “Looks like the ditch is deep enough we can hide in it without being seen.”
“Once we’re down there,” Jason slowly pushed himself back into a standing position, “we need to stay still and quiet. Whispers only, no moving around unless absolutely necessary. If they spot us, then we’ll open fire and move in opposite directions down the ditch to maximize the effectiveness of our firepower by spreading out.”
“Well?” Mark shuffled his feet anxiously. “Let’s go, already!”
***
Set back a few hundred feet from the road, the old community center and baseball fields were far enough away that no one inside the compound noticed three figures sliding through the trees and rolling into the ditch. The guards out in front of the community center were too busy talking with each other to pay attention so they wouldn’t have noticed regardless.
There were a total of three men out in front of the building standing around the cluster of vehicles parked there, with others scattered around the sides and interior of the structure. A generator sitting beneath an awning out behind the center coughed and sputtered as one of the men tried to get it working. In between the building and the baseball fields stood another cluster of men, each paying close attention to the prisoners that were shackled to each other.
Thick chains bound the feet of Dianne, Sarah, Jacob and Josie, keeping them together so that they couldn’t easily run off. A padlock and a long chain connected their shackles to those of the three other people who had been taken prisoner. Dianne’s group had only been at the center for a few hours, but it was already clear that things were being handled much differently than they had at the gas station.
In addition to being bound with shackles and tied together, no one was allowed to speak to each other. Dianne had to resort to hand gestures with Jacob and Josie, trying her best to shield them from the wrath of the guards by giving them stern looks and shaking her head when they started to speak. The labor was almost more intense than she had seen when overlooking the gas station compound. The group of three prisoners—whose names Dianne didn’t even know—had been tasked with digging soil from one of the fields and transporting it over to Dianne’s group by wheelbarrow.
Dianne, Sarah, Jacob and Josie were given twine and large burlap sacks which they filled with soil, tied off and stacked along marked sect
ions around the center to form a protective barrier. The work was slow and ponderous, made worse by being bound to each other, but the guards were relentless. Since the moment Kenneth Nealson gave them their task they had been forced to work with only a few moments of rest here and there. Water, thankfully, had been plentiful and both Dianne and Sarah made sure Jacob and Josie were drinking plenty and staying warm as they piled dirt into the bags.
The hopelessness of the situation combined with the dramatic turn of events was not lost on Dianne, nor was her injury. The arrow had been removed and her wound was bandaged by one of the men in the compound, but it was neither pretty, gentle or what she would consider high quality. Each time she had to stand and help haul full bags over to their designated places she nearly cried from the pain as the wound continued to bleed, soaking through the bandage and spreading a red stain across her jeans.
From their position in the ditch, Mark, Jason and Tina were unable to see anything that was going on behind the center. They watched the front carefully, though, counting different men as they wandered back and forth, trying to build up an estimate of the number of enemies they would face while trying to rescue their loved ones. It was, in the end, good that they weren’t able to see the labor that Dianne, Sarah, Jacob and Josie were being forced to perform for the day. When the line of bags continued around one side of the building and Mark caught a glimpse of his dirt-covered brother and sister and his limping mother, Jason’s quick reaction time was the only thing that kept Mark from leaping out of the ditch and charging across the road.
“Mark!” Jason pressed his mouth against Mark’s ear, hissing as he whispered as quietly as possible. “Stay still!”
“But—”
“I know!” Jason wrapped an arm around Mark and squeezed him tight, hearing Mark’s breaths quicken as tears began to well up in his eyes. “I know. But if we rush in there right now, we’re going to die. And that won’t help them at all, will it?”
