by Riley Flynn
“We’ll dig ‘em up tomorrow. Can reuse ‘em again and again. Best thing is, the dog ain’t heavy enough to set ‘em off. Lucky son of a bitch.”
“This is incredible, Cam. Where’d you learn all this stuff?”
“Stop right there.” Cam stood up, leaving Alex filling in the last hole with mud. “No it ain’t.”
“I mean, it’s impressive. You know so much.”
“I was a soldier for years. There's no wonder to it.” Cam wiped his forehead, his voice gravelly and tired. “That's the problem with folks like you, always putting us up on a pedestal. It ain't like that. I've fought and I've been soldiering for years. You think I ever wanted to kill anyone? You think they really wanted to kill me? We're mostly all just trying to stay alive. This. All this. It's just more of that. Sometimes the other fella has to die. Sometimes he don't. But there's no wonder to it. No miracle. no heroes. No great battle between good and evil. Sometimes someone's got to die so that you don't and that's the tragedy of the thing. So don't call it incredible. Call it what it is. A struggle. A tragic struggle and now you're all struggling, too.”
The last hole was filled up with mud. Cam bent down to mark the spot. Alex stood first and offered out a helping hand.
“I don't know what to say.”
“Then don't say nothing.” Cam took the hand. “That's half the art. Knowing when to say nothing.”
Alex took up his rifle. Nothing left to say. He patted Cam on the back and then walked toward the spot where he’d set up for the night’s watch. After a few hours, he’d walk around and they’d change. By now, he hoped Cam was sleeping better. God only knew the horrors he must have seen when he closed his eyes.
Alex knew the feeling only too well. Inside, right in the pit of his stomach, he felt a heavy pang of sympathy for the former soldier.
The wind was low and the night was dark. Alex’s eyes flitted across every corner of the camp site like a broken television, jumping across twenty channels every second. No sounds, only the night. Half the art is knowing when to say nothing, he told himself, and knowing when to listen is the rest.
Chapter 36
Alex had stayed in place all night. No relief. No changing of the guard. He had spent too much time with his thoughts, too much time thinking about the inevitable. No one would be pleased, no one would be happy. But every second he thought about the chase, about the hunter and the hunted, he knew what had to happen.
A thin mist hung over the ground. It had arrived with the dawn. Through tired eyes, Alex saw Cam stalking across the open space. He walked in a straight line, deviating only to step around one of their carefully marked traps.
“What the hell?” Cam’s gruff voice walked out in front, arriving first. “You never woke me?”
“I let you sleep.”
“You can’t just do that. Ain’t right. You gotta let me do my bit.”
“Honestly, Cam, I didn’t even notice the hours. I was sitting here and before I knew it, it was dawn.”
In all actuality, Alex had walked up to Cam and noticed that he seemed to be sleeping well. Quietly. Calmly. It had felt wrong to wake him.
“You’ve really been out here all night?” The edge eased off Cam’s voice. He seemed more relaxed. More collected. “You need to get some rest, my friend. You’re driving yourself too hard.”
It won’t matter soon. Alex kept the thought in his head, away from the others. He had to make things right.
“Maybe. You can take the first shift tonight. I promise.”
Cam shook his head. Probably the closest thing to an acceptance he was willing to give. Together, they walked through the mist and collected the sharpened sticks and hidden buried bullets.
By the time they were finished, Timmy and Joan were awake. They had dismantled the tent and were in the process of packing the bags. The only items left out were a few food packets.
“We all ready?” Alex asked, fixing a smile to his face. “Mist is clearing and it looks like a nice day. I think we should be able to cover a lot of ground before nighttime.”
Tired muttering.
“Hell,” he continued, “we might be able to make it all the way through the Park if we push ourselves hard enough.”
It was a lie. Alex knew it. The possibility that anyone else might figure out the truth worried him. Spirits needed to be up. They were losing ground.
“I think we should aim higher today.” Alex pointed up at the hills. “Might as well see some sights while we’re here.”
“Up the mountains?”
“They’re hardly mountains, Joan. Plus, higher ground gives us the advantage. We can see people coming.”
The others seemed to accept this answer. At the very least, they didn’t argue.
It was a tough march. They moved no faster than they had the day before. Every five hundred yards, Timmy would stumble and Joan would try and help him, Alex watching her knees shake with the effort as he ran toward them to help. They stopped too often. They stopped too long. Their various weaknesses ate into the day like a cancer eating at a liver.
Even when they tried to redistribute the weight across the backpacks, Alex could feel the group being dragged down into the dirt. Slowly, slowly sinking. His neck hurt from checking over his shoulder.
Alex would walk at the rear of the party. Timmy led the way, with Cam just behind and Joan following him. Timmy held the map and tried to make a show of navigating. They stuck to the trails, though. Occasional signs and Alex’s memories helping them crisscross the tracks, moving steadily east and steadily south.
By the afternoon, Alex had abandoned his plan of quick direction changes and doubling back. The worry was eating away at his confidence. The route became straighter, more direct. Shoot straight for the other side of the Park. Get there as quickly as possible.
They were most of the way up a medium-sized slope when Cam stopped to tie his shoe. He waved Joan past him but stretched out a hand to block Alex’s path. With still attending to his shoelace, he handed up the binoculars and began to whisper.
“Not sure what you’ve been thinking, boss, but thought you might want to take a look at something.”
Alex dutifully raised the binoculars. He scanned the world around him. The view from up here took in the skeletal tips of the forest trees, their spindling fingers scratching at the gray sky.
“Right there,” Cam whispered, “at your eleven o’clock.”
There they were. Plain as day. A black Cadillac rolling along one of the roads which cut through the Park. It stopped. Two figures emerged, black shapes, and buzzed around the car like stable flies.
They’d barely changed. Still trying the same old tricks, even after Alex had taken them on and won. It made him angry. Furious. Their arrogance, to keep chasing, to repeat the same mistakes and expect their prey to make a mistake. If this was the way the government trained their men, no wonder the world was collapsing.
Alex relished in the thought, resolving to beat them again and again. Keep beating them until his friends were safe. Until the chase ended. Until he won.
“You want to tell ‘em?” Cam had finished tying his shoe. Joan and Timmy hadn’t stopped walking. “I understand if you don’t.”
Putting one foot in front of the other, Alex pushed past and picked up the pace. As he walked up the slope, he began to shout but made sure not to be too loud.
“Come on, guys. Almost at the top. You know what that means. All downhill on the other side.”
They couldn’t know. They must know, Alex reasoned to himself. They must know that those men were out there. But they didn’t need to be reminded.
The two faces – Byrne and Root – sat behind Alex’s eyes. Every time he blinked, they stared back. Every time he paused and rested his eyes for a second, there they were. Their looming faces, almost smiling. That man Root, the way he’d smiled almost religiously while tied up near the airport. Those same images were seared into his mind’s eye like a cattle brand.
Even at
the time, the thought of killing him had never occurred to Alex. But maybe it should have. Would it have stopped Byrne? Would it have made Alex feel better about himself? Probably not. What was done was done. There were already too many regrets to count. Better not to dwell on them.
* * *
“Alex!”
He blinked. Timmy was shouting in his face.
“Yeah?”
Root and Byrne. Alex pushed the faces far from his mind. He’d been gone a while.
“I’ve been speaking to you, man. You were in another world.”
“Oh. What? Sorry. Lack of sleep, I guess.”
The tiredness was becoming more and more apparent. Not just slow thoughts, but a tingling in the toes. A buzzing in the fingers. Every step was heavy, like trying to walk through a sea of molasses.
“Yeah, about that. We were thinking. What do you want to do about tonight? When should we stop? I looked up the map and there’s a few places not too far from here.”
“But it’s barely afternoon.”
“Yeah, I know. I just figure, since we’re well ahead of them and all, we could take it easy. Everyone’s pretty tired. You should sleep, too.”
The faces. The Cadillac in the road. Timmy didn’t know. He didn’t need to know.
“I think we should keep going as long as we can. At least until the sun starts setting.”
“If that’s what you think, man, that’s what we’ll do.”
And that was what they did. The hours slipped by. Falls. Stumbles. Pauses for breath and for taking on water. Slow. But progress. Alex had made a suggestion, however damaging it seemed to be, and people were following it. He was astonished.
Alex wanted to stop. He wanted nothing more than to pull over by a nice big tree, find a comfortable patch of grass and pitch the tent and talk and eat and sleep and be happy again. Like he’d been with Timmy before. Like they’d been with Joan. He wanted to tell them to have fun. But he knew he couldn’t do it. It hurt. A wretched pang to the gut, driving the wounded and the tired along the road.
But they had to keep moving forward. Root and Byrne were never far from his thoughts.
* * *
Finally, enough light escaped out of the day that stopping became a real option. They found themselves deep in the belly of a valley, sunk in between two decent-sized hills with a stream trickling through the middle. Surrounded by the tall trees, no empty space in sight, they decided to camp.
“I can’t see us anywhere on the map.” Timmy spoke through his tongue, concentrating on the piece of paper.
“Let me have a look.” Alex knew this map was meant for cars, not for wandering through the Park. “We’re about here. See this river? That’s that stream there.”
“Huh. Looks bigger on the page.”
Alex knew the area well enough. Well enough to begin to piece together a plan in his mind. Well enough to know how far they had come and how far was left to walk.
“I thought we were much farther along than that.” Timmy looked up from the map. “Man.”
“We’re being careful.”
“We’re being slow,” said Joan. “Should we start to worry?”
“We should set up camp,” Alex told them.
Again, they listened. Setting up camp meant splitting into two groups. Timmy and Joan to handle the tent and the sleeping bags, Cam and Alex to set their series of traps. It was quicker this time: they’d held on to many of the sticks and the aspen wraps. Despite the additional weight, it saved them almost half an hour. Thirty extra minutes to keep walking. When everything was in place, they sat down together to eat. Dry bread and packets of fruit syrup.
“This”—Timmy held up a syrup-coated slice of bread—"is the breakfast of champions.”
“That right?” Cam spoke with his mouth full.
“Yeah. ‘Cept we’re having it for dinner.”
“What’s that make us then?” More crumbs spilled out of Cam’s mouth.
“Chumps, I guess.”
“It makes us hungry.” Joan covered her mouth while she spoke.
“It means we’re alive, at least.” Alex hadn’t touched his bread. “For now, at least.”
“Reckon that’s the first thing you’ve said in hours, man. You’ve been living in another world today. Hiking really gets to you, huh?”
“Something like that.”
This was the time. He had to tell them now.
“Listen, I need to tell you guys something.”
“Holy crap, that sounds ominous. Don’t tell me. Mom and Dad are getting a divorce.”
Alex looked across at Timmy, who stopped mid-laugh.
“I’ve got to tell you this. I’ve looked at the map. I know this area. We’re not going to make it.”
Everyone rumbled but Alex held up his hand.
“I saw them today. Those agents. I saw their car. It was close. They weren’t far back. We’ve got to assume they’re tracking us-”
“But we saw their drone go down. And they can’t see through these woods. It’s impossible, man.”
“Maybe they’re using old-fashioned tracking skills. I don’t know. Either way, I don’t think we’ll make it if we carry on like this. They’ll catch up to us.”
“So what do we do?” Joan had left her half-finished bread balanced on her knee. Finn was eyeing it. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us. I’ve had my suspicions but-”
“He didn’t tell us because it’s our fault. We’re slowing everyone down.” Timmy had started chewing through another slice of bread. He had syrup on his chin. “Isn’t that right?”
“No. No, it’s not that.”
“Yes, we are, man. You don’t need to lie.”
“It doesn’t matter, Timmy. Listen. I have a plan, all right? I’m going to get us out of this.”
“Oh yeah? This ought to be good. What, we hide in the bushes and wait for them and leap out with our guns and turn them to Swiss cheese. About time, in my opinion.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Timmy.” Joan looked straight at Alex. “He wouldn’t think of something so dangerous.”
“Why not? We got guns, may as well use ‘em.”
“Timmy.” Alex tried to sound calm, sensible. He tried to frame his words perfectly. “These are professionally trained intelligence operatives. We’re a starving bunch of stragglers in the woods. Even then, what’s to say a firefight would stop them?”
“You still haven’t told us what the actual plan is.”
“You’re right, Joan. You’re right. I’ll tell you.” Alex paused, just enough time to feel a lump form in his throat. “I’m going to leave you. I’m going to double back, follow our trail, and then lead them somewhere else.”
“That’s insane.” All three seemed to say the same thing at once. A chorus, warning him.
“I have to. I’ve been thinking about it. I can lure them north, take them right out of the way while you guys make it through. You can travel slower, at your own pace. You’ll need two, maybe three days, tops. I’ll travel quicker by myself. When I’m done, I can come and find you.”
“What do you mean when you’re done?”
“I mean when it’s all over. I can find you. I know where the farm is. I can show Timmy. He should know already, but I can show him. You, him, and Cam. You can make it. I’ll buy you the time.”
“We can’t let you do this.”
“You don’t have to. It’s not a discussion. It’s what’s going to happen.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it. Cam, tell him. Tell him how insane he is.”
A break in the conversation. Alex closed his eyes. He rubbed his face. Tired. Spent. Exhausted. He looked up and saw Cam sitting opposite, considering him from head to toe. Of all the people in the camp, this was the one person who might see the value in the plan.
“I think… I think Alex knows best. If he says this is what happens, this is what happens.”
“We can’t let this happen!” Joan moved forward, knocking her bread to the
ground. The dog ate it in one gulp.
“No, there’s no way.” Timmy moved around to stand behind Joan. A united front.
“I’m doing it, guys. Whether you like it or not. What happened to trusting me?”
“What happened to trusting us? Are you sure you’re telling us everything we need to know? That was fine when we were together.” Joan reached up and touched Timmy’s hand on her shoulder. “But we can’t help you when you’re away.”
She was right, Alex thought. He was holding on to certain facts. But he had to, he reasoned. It was for their own good. It wouldn’t help them to know. It would only slow them down.
“I have to do this. And I won’t be alone. I’ll take Finn.”
“That’s not what we meant, Alex.”
“I know, Joan, but I need him. I have it all planned out. Trust me. You’ve trusted me before, can’t you do it one more time?”
She paused. That moment was everything. A break in the flow of the conversation, a caesura. Alex knew he’d won. Even if only for the tiniest fraction of a second, Joan had entertained the plan as a possibility. Her mind had already conceived of a future where this was happening. She had ceded the ground, flashed her tell.
Right then and there, Alex knew he had won the discussion. The plan was going to happen. But he continued to talk, continued to play out the discussion with them.
A dead rubber.
A done deal.
This was just the tidying up. None of it mattered and his exhausted mind was already planning ahead. But he enjoyed the conversation while he could. He didn’t know when he’d see his friends again.
Chapter 37
They were all argued out. Alex had won. Joan and Timmy had driven him hard and long, refusing to accept anything. But it all amounted to nothing. Eventually they agreed. Tired, angry, and unsatisfied, everyone retreated to different places to lick their wounds.
Alex knew what he had to do. He could see them, even in the dark. Joan sat inside the tent, Timmy leaning up against a tree, examining one of the traps. Cam had positioned himself outside the camp, already set up in his guard post for the night.
