by J. W. Vohs
“I swear whatever you tell me won’t leave this room.” Christy reached out and took Vickie’s hand in her own. “We’ve been through a lot together, and I’m sorry for putting you on the spot. Whatever it is, you can trust me.”
Vickie nodded. “I don’t even know where to begin. Do you remember Luke or Jerry talking about Luke’s mother?”
Christy looked confused, “Well, yeah, a little. She lost Luke’s dad in the war. Her name was Margaret, and at least for Jerry it was love at first sight. She died of breast cancer a few years ago.”
Vickie continued, “Remember they said she was an artist and a pacifist, and hated anything to do with violence? It was a miracle that she fell for Jerry since he was a cop. Luke was a few years old when they got married.”
“OK, that sounds familiar. No secret there.” Christy observed.
“Just wait,” Vickie promised. “It gets really weird. Did David ever talk about Jack’s high school girlfriend, the one he had a big crush on?”
Christy laughed. “The one who looked like one of Charlie’s Angels, from the television show? I think the actress’s last name was Smith too. I don’t remember the girlfriend’s name, but David swears she was his first love. He must have been about ten or twelve.”
“Her name was Maggie. She broke up with Jack because he joined the military, and, as a pacifist, she was against such things. You could say she lost Jack to the war. Anyway, not quite eighteen years ago, Maggie went off to art school in Cleveland.”
Christy was momentarily speechless as she processed just where this conversation was headed, “Are you trying to tell me that Margaret and Maggie are the same person?”
“David gave me a couple samples to test, to see if we could establish paternity—”
“Are you saying that David is Luke’s biological father?” Christy interrupted, almost jumping out of her seat.
“Your blood sugar must still be off—you said yourself that David would have been a kid, a middle schooler to be exact, when he had a crush on Jack’s girlfriend.” Vickie repeated the last two words slowly. “Jack’s girlfriend.”
Christy fell back in her seat, “Oh my God. You’re telling me that Jack is Luke’s biological father. And neither one of them has any clue.”
“Why would they? I mean, what are the odds? Now David is trying to figure out how and when to tell them, but they’re all a bit preoccupied trying to prevent that psycho General Barnes from wiping out Indiana with his giant army of hunters.”
“Luke thinks he’s lost all his entire family. He thinks his biological father was killed before he was even born. He watched his mom die of cancer, then he had to witness Jerry slip away after being bitten . . .” Christy grew misty eyed. “I know the timing is crazy, but Luke deserves to know the truth!”
Gracie had just reached the doorway, and she heard the tail end of Christy’s statement. She looked from Christy to Vickie in alarm. “Is Luke in danger? What truth does he need to know?”
CHAPTER 4
The good news at the bridge near Brandenburg was that there was no sign of hunters nearby. Luke suggested that whatever means the helicopters used to gather the infected might also be used to keep them away. That would provide protection for the soldiers working for Barnes and therefore explain the proximity of the Blackhawk to the people near the SUV. Another favorable development was the nature of the roadblock itself; the people guarding it were obviously not taking the assignment seriously. They were hunched over a small campfire, and at least one of them was smoking a cigarette. From their current location, Bobby and Carter could put two AR rounds in each guard’s head before they even realized they were being fired on. Unfortunately, killing Barnes’ people before interrogating them was a choice of last resort; Jack and his team needed intelligence at least as much as they needed to destroy the bridge.
Once he’d finished offering his opinion on the connection between the presence of the helicopter and the apparent absence of hunters in the area, Luke climbed a nearby tree in the hope of gaining a better view of the situation. His efforts were immediately rewarded when he saw two people, whom he assumed to be the pilot and crew-chief, wrapped up in sleeping bags beneath a tarp tied to the side of the Blackhawk. They appeared to be alone, with no guards in sight, and the chopper showing no sign of anyone aboard. He quickly scampered down and reported his observations to the rest of the team, and after briefly considering the new information, Jack decided that they would move closer and spend an hour watching the bridge and the approaching road before attacking.
After updating David and Marcus by radio about what they’d seen so far, the team moved to within a hundred meters of the bridge and maintained a careful watch over the enemy positions until they were fairly certain there were no other soldiers nearby. Satisfied that they had learned all they could from where they were, Jack decided to divide the team in half, sending Carter and Bobby to secure the Blackhawk while he and Luke captured the roadblock. They all agreed to maintain radio silence unless one of the enemy groups somehow alerted the other; the civilian, hand-held communication devices were simply too noisy to use in the immediate proximity of hostile humans or hunters.
As the two groups parted, Luke proposed a brazen plan to Jack. He suggested that after quietly approaching the road leading to the bridge, they should simply climb up on the asphalt and walk toward the enemy camp as if they were the Blackhawk crew coming to check in. He argued that they could follow a route that kept the SUV between the people gathered around the campfire and he and Jack’s approach, perhaps being able to walk up to the roadblock completely undetected. With no better option coming to mind, Jack quickly agreed to the plan, though he did demand that they maintain a thirty to forty meter distance between each other so they could provide fire support for one another if something went wrong.
They reached the road easily enough, and were walking deliberately toward the roadblock when someone quietly hissed from behind a small, wrecked car that had been pushed up against the side of the bridge.
“Stop right there, mister,” a nervous, male voice demanded. “Who the hell are you?”
Jack immediately realized two important facts: he and his team had failed to see the guard hiding behind the rusting compact, and the enemy soldier sounded as if he didn’t realize that Luke was also on the bridge. Jack decided to try talking to the man and give the teen a chance to act. He slowly held up his hands and responded quietly, “Captain Robert Crane of the 125th Special Aviation Squadron. General Barnes ordered us to get some choppers onto this bridge, but our colonel wanted us to recon the area first.”
“How the hell you get this close without me hearing you?” the suspicious guard whispered.
“Just calm down, soldier, and at least lower your damn weapon before I explain everything to you.”
The enemy guard dropped the muzzle of his assault rifle so it was no longer pointed at Jack’s chest, but still kept his finger on the trigger and his sights just to the side of the strange officer.
Jack slowly lowered his hands a bit, palms out to show that he was cooperating and non-threatening. “We landed on the upriver side of this wood-line to the east and walked up here as quietly as possible.” He pointed to his NVGs as if offering an explanation for how they had remained undetected until now. “SOAR is special ops, as I’m sure you know, so we can move like ghosts through the night if we need to. My copilot is still down in the woods,” he added as he pointed to the radio strapped to the small device clipped to his vest. “We saw that people were already up here so I decided to come up and find out who you were. I’m assuming you beat us here in that Blackhawk parked on the road.”
The guard dropped his weapon and climbed to his feet, obviously convinced that Jack was working for Barnes and was a superior officer. Jack’s ruse had worked, but the problem was that the enemy soldier saw Luke in the distance as soon as he stood up. Fortunately the teen was only twenty meters away and had an arrow nocked and drawn. Just as the guard began
to open his mouth to cry out a warning, a razor-sharp broad-head ripped through his larynx and jugular vein before sailing off into the darkness shrouding the river. Jack jumped forward to catch the soldier as he dropped to the ground, determined to avoid any noise that might alert the people behind the SUV that was only a little more than a hundred meters away.
Luckily, the wind was coming out of the north, blowing away from the roadblock and keeping the lax guards huddled around their fire from detecting the whispers and scuffles near the wrecked car they were using as a forward position. Jack was on his knees near the mortally-wounded enemy; his dagger plunged up through the dying soldier’s chin, passing easily through the soft palate of the mouth and into his brain. Luke had reached his partner, but turned away from the brutal business at his feet. He actually enjoyed killing the infected, but living humans were another matter. This sort of fighting upset the youngster, and Jack knew how he felt. The older man stood and briefly put an arm around the teen, whispering, “We had no choice. You have to accept that these people are as dangerous to the ones you love as the infected are.”
Luke just nodded, but still looked away from the rapidly spreading pool of blood surrounding his boots. Jack was worried about the young warrior, “Are you good to go on the roadblock? If you can’t go on right now I’ll head up there myself.”
Luke released a deep breath and shook his head, “I’m all right, Jack. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to hurt a human being, I just don’t like it. I mean, it really bothers me. The guy I killed at the airport was bad—I could feel it. Plus he was shooting at me and the other guys. This time it just feels different.”
Jack squeezed the teen’s shoulder, knowing full well that Luke had an instinctive ‘feel’ for danger and evil. “As it should. I don’t like it either, but we have to complete this operation to keep our people safe. These folks threw in with Barnes for some reason, and they’re accessories to mass murder whether they realize it or not. They’ve made their choices, son, and this guy endangered our mission. We aren’t going to do any more killing if we don’t have to. You go around the left of the vehicle and keep out of sight until you hear my voice. Then you come out and put your pistol on them. You good?”
Luke nodded, “I would never fail you, Jack. You know I calm down fast after a fight. I’ve got your back.”
An uncharacteristic wave of emotion stopped Jack in his tracks for a second—he suddenly felt especially protective of the teen. “And don’t forget that I’ve got yours,” he promised.
The two fighters continued their walk toward the SUV in silence, relieved to see that nobody there had been alerted by the sounds of the confrontation at their forward post. After the high drama with the guard at the wrecked car, the capture of the three people huddled around the fire was anti-climactic. Jack stepped into the wan light with NVGs off and ordered the enemy guards to put their hands up as he covered them with his AR. Luke then popped out as ordered and quickly secured the captives’ hands with zip-ties before turning on his radio and calling for Carter.
“Whatcha want, wonder-boy?” the Kentucky native teased.
“We have the three men in custody behind the SUV,” Luke answered in a serious tone that indicated to Carter that he wasn’t in the mood for any joking around. “We also had to kill a guard hiding near a car about a hundred meters in front of the roadblock. What’s your situation?”
“My radio’s on so ya know we got the two guys at the Blackhawk,” Carter reported. “We’ve been scannin’ the area with our NVGs but haven’t seen any other folks. I’m purty sure we just bagged the whole crew. Y’all sit tight and we’ll join ya up there in a few minutes.”
While that conversation was taking place, Jack radioed David and Marcus and told them to bring the boats down to the bridge and rejoin the rest of the team. As they waited for the rafts to arrive, Bobby suggested that they separate the captives so they couldn’t communicate with one another before questioning. Luke had been with the former Ranger when they’d captured the helicopter pilots at the Fort Wayne Airport, and he was glad to see Jack follow the suggestion and order the prisoners tied to the bridge about thirty meters apart. Bobby showed every one of the captured soldiers his combat knife as they were secured to the railing, quietly warning each of them that they would lose a finger if they tried to speak with their fellow prisoners. Everyone on the team assumed he was bluffing, but Luke knew that the cold-eyed warrior wouldn’t hesitate to chop off the tip of a pinky if he felt the need to convince the captives of his seriousness during the interrogation; he’d seen Marcus and Bobby use the tactic once before.
Finally, David and Marcus reached the bridge where they solemnly looked over the dead soldier before they approached their waiting friends. Everyone had been discussing the best way to proceed with the interrogation of the prisoners, and there was some general disagreement between Jack and Bobby. Jack wasn’t happy to discover that his old Army friend wasn’t joking about the finger-business. Bobby assured him that he could remove the end of the little finger without hitting bone or causing much more than a painful flesh wound, and that nothing sped up an interrogation more than a prisoner screaming about his missing finger and blood spraying all over the place.
Luke knew that Bobby wasn’t a sadist; he’d watched the ex-Ranger nearly vomit after stepping outside following an operation similar to the one he was describing now. He quietly reminded Jack of that fact, even though everyone had learned of the airport interrogation in the days after the Battle of Fort Wayne. Still, Luke didn’t want to hear the screams or see the blood again, so he supported Jack’s decision to conduct the interrogations without torture for the time being. Even Bobby seemed relieved when he heard that he wouldn’t have to use his knife unless nothing else worked. Marcus hadn’t said one word the entire time, and Luke was certain that the experienced soldier had no desire to take off any more fingers either.
David had been looking over the prisoners while the debate about finger-surgery was taking place, and he’d noticed that there was a big difference in appearance and demeanor between the pilot and crew-chief, and the soldiers manning the roadblock. The Blackhawk crew was young, clean-shaven, and sporting traditional military haircuts, while the guards were older men with civilian grooming and ill-fitting uniforms. When he shared his observations with the rest of the team, they noticed the differences as well. After Jack inspected the prisoners himself, he was fairly certain that the guards were some type of militia force while the chopper crew was regular Army. He strongly suspected that the interrogations wouldn’t be as difficult as his team members thought they would be.
Jack chose the youngest of the guards to speak with, while Carter went off to talk with the crew chief. The night had grown colder, and after spending half an hour away from their fire and sleeping bags the prisoners were all shivering. Jack picked up a wool blanket lying on the bridge near the campfire and gently wrapped it around the shoulders of the prisoner he had chosen to speak with. The man nodded his thanks before whispering, “That scary-looking dude ain’t really gonna chop off our fingers is he?”
Jack just raised his eyebrows and shrugged, “We were Rangers in Afghanistan together; he’s removed fingers from prisoners before.” He then flat-out lied, “But fingers are just the beginning if he doesn’t get the cooperation he wants. There’s a few Taliban in the world who’ll never make babies again.” Jack pretended to shiver as if he vividly recalled a horrible memory before he upped the ante, “You ever seen a castration before?”
The scruffy soldier looked absolutely terrified and Jack attempted to calm him down by explaining, “Hey, he’s my buddy. If I tell him to lay off you, I’m pretty sure he will. Not many of us really want to see him go off, that’s why we’re trying to talk first.”
“Just tell me what you want to know, man, I ain’t got any secrets,” the prisoner quietly declared through chattering teeth.
“Why are guys here?” Jack demanded.
“We were sent here to
see if this bridge was clear and set up a roadblock if it was.”
“Who sent you here to do that?”
The prisoner thought for a moment, “Well, my squad leader told me to get on the chopper, but I’m guessing that Major Jackson ordered the mission.”
“Why do you say that?” Jack asked gently. “Who is Major Jackson?”
“That’s a long story, dude.”
“Hey,” Jack explained, “we have time. Start from the beginning.”
The prisoner let out a long sigh before finally explaining, “I ended up with a group of survivors holed up on the edge of the Blue Ridge Mountains. My girlfriend was a nurse working in a D.C. hospital, and she came home a few days after they brought those Marines back with the virus and told me we were leaving town. She didn’t tell me that she’d been bitten. We headed south on I-81 and made it to a hotel in Waynesboro. Had to stop there ‘cause she was getting really sick. She wouldn’t go to a hospital . . . turned the next morning and I took off.
“I was in a panic and headed toward the mountains instead of the interstate, ended up on the Blue Ridge Parkway heading south. Ran out of gas and coasted into a scenic overlook where a bunch of people had parked their RVs. They had plenty of supplies and most of ‘em were elderly; they were more than happy to have a younger guy around to help out.
“Anyway, we watched the Shenandoah Valley burn for two weeks, then waited another month before heading out of the mountains. We found a huge, ancient farmhouse set on a pretty steep hill we could defend, and that’s where we stopped. Crops were already in the ground and we planted every seed we could get our hands on. By late July we’d built walls and had over a hundred people living there. That’s when the major showed up and said he was point man for a government relief force. When the choppers flew in the next day, we opened the gates, and that’s when we met General Barnes.”
