For more than a year now the paper company had been harvesting timber beyond the perimeter of privately owned property around Parker Pond. Doug and Annie had gotten used to the distant rumbling of heavy machinery. Just the same, Doug didn’t like the paper companies. In his eyes they were spoilers who raped the forest with impunity. They hauled the trees to the mill where they were ground into chips and mixed with chemicals to make wood mash which in turn was used to manufacture such things as newspapers, cardboard boxes and magazines. In the process, habitat for countless species of plant and animal was being destroyed, brooks and streams were warming and becoming unfit for native fish species, while rivers far downstream were polluted with dioxin. The companies that committed these crimes against nature were merciless. Everything and anything was justified in the quest for the almighty dollar. And there was nothing anyone could do about it. The paper companies owned the land and they could do whatever they wished with it.
In the past year or so Ariel had been waking in the night crying in anguish over the lives that were being lost because of the forest’s destruction. When Doug and Annie had quizzed the child about what lives she was referring to she’d been unable to provide clear answers. “Just lives,” she’d replied, and both parents had finally come to the conclusion that Ariel was referring to all life; trees, deer, moose, fish, cats, rodents and worms. Somehow she knew that every living species on Earth was connected, and that all life had value. A realization that most humans never came to. Yet a four year old child had. Ariel wasn’t just brilliant, she was ultra-sensitive, and Doug often wondered if she had some sort of direct psychic connection with nature.
He guessed that our status at the top of the food chain caused us to be arrogant in the face of these truths. Humans put themselves above all other life forms. Ariel knew instinctively that this was a mistake. Thanks to Ariel’s keen intuition, Doug and Annie had become increasingly more aware of these and other human crimes perpetrated against nature and wondered how much the planet could take before rebelling.
Finally, after more than a year, two days ago the far off but relentless sound of the machines had stopped. Just like that. And the sudden quiet was both a relief and a little unnerving.
And something else had happened at about the same time. Something they did not want to talk about because there was no rational explanation for it: when they turned on the radio, all they got was static. When they arrived here almost four years ago Doug and Rick had erected a small windmill in order to keep essential batteries charged. Atop the tower they had installed an AM/FM antenna. They were able to pick up a station in St. John, one in Millinocket, a few in Bangor, and on nights when atmospheric conditions were just right they could pick up a few FM stations from as far away as Portland and Boston. Now, no matter where they tuned the radio dial, all they got was static.
The tower was also equipped as a cell phone receiver/transmitter. Doug and Rick had installed it when they’d first come here, only to be used in case of emergency. They had all learned the hard way just how easy it was for those searching for signals to zero in on cell phones. The assumption was that cell towers were monitored for activity. There had been plenty of evidence of this over the past several years. The case of Edward Snowden for instance. He had exposed the government’s penchant for monitoring cell phones as well as internet activity. Conversations were being listened to and analyzed. Homeland Security had computer programs with sophisticated software. Individual words could trigger alerts. Doug, Rick and Annie had all agreed that the phone would be used only if absolutely necessary. After the incident the other night they’d broken protocol and tried calling Rick Jennings.
They hadn’t gotten as much as a dial tone.
It was as if there was no longer an outgoing signal. Doug had tested all the settings on the tower and they all seemed to be working correctly. The disquieting thought struck him that perhaps the problem wasn’t on his end.
Before reaching the cutoff Doug keyed the transmitter on his two-way. “Annie, can you hear me?”
A moment of static was followed by Annie’s voice. “Loud and clear.”
“You can turn the sensors back on.”
“Done. How are things?”
“So far, so good. I’ll give you an update when I reach the cutoff.”
“Be careful, Doug.”
“Will do. Over and out.”
Once he reached the edge of the forest where it met the massive cutoff Doug stopped and stood very still watching for movement. Nothing stirred. Not even the leaves on the trees. It occurred to him that he hadn’t seen so much as a rabbit or a squirrel all morning. The preternatural silence, coupled with the forest’s stillness, was like an omen, giving him pause, making him stand and gaze out over the cut longer than he should have.
The road down through the cutoff was littered with trucks, mostly late models, most of them four wheel drives with North Woods Timber stenciled on the doors. All sat motionless. The huge tree harvesters all stood motionless as well. They looked like the calcified remains of some alien Transformer species.
Rarely did he stray this far from the compound, and he would never voluntarily expose his presence to these forest workers, although he was quite certain they knew about them. Were any of them out there watching him now, wondering who this strange person with camouflage clothing and the slung rifle was? From what he could see, he doubted it. He almost wished they were there. Perhaps the sight of another living human would help to ease the tension building in him.
But Doug saw no human activity.
And heard no noise.
This was all wrong. If their work here was done then the machines should have been gone.
Doug surveyed the road beyond the motionless vehicles. It was made of dirt and stone, and ran in a convolution of perhaps ten miles down through the barren cut where forest had once stood. Purple saw-tooth mountains that hadn’t been visible when they’d first come here now broke the distant horizon.
Doug remained very still, breathing in, and breathing out. The smell of gasoline and burnt motor oil and hydraulic fluid drifted across the cut and mixed with the dead smells of dust, rot and old wood.
He trained his eyes skyward. He’d gotten used to the contrails of jetliners high up in the atmosphere as they flew their routes between Europe and the U.S. and back again. Though the sky was clean and blue and cloudless, he saw no contrails. He hadn’t seen a contrail in two days.
Finally Doug left his vantage at the edge of the forest and carefully worked his way out into the cut toward the motionless vehicles. Cautiously he approached the closest vehicle to him, a forest green Ford F-250 with the driver side door standing wide open. He leaned around the open door and peered into the cab. It was empty, and although the door was open the dome light was not lit. Doug saw that the ignition key was turned to the ON position. He reached in and turned it to start. The starter clicked. Once. Twice. Then died.
No life left in the battery. This truck had been sitting here with the door open for quite some time.
He moved cautiously along the road until he came to another vehicle. It too sat empty. As did the next. The fourth vehicle was a Grapple Yarder, a giant of a vehicle with tracks like a tank and a long articulated arm with a grapple hook attached to the end. This particular machine was designed to stack logs along the sides of roads, and later to load them into the beds of trucks.
Doug inched cautiously closer to the vehicle. Like the first pickup truck the door stood open. A man without a head hung from the cab.
Doug backed carefully away, turned and began sprinting back toward the woods.
A distant buzz-saw sound made him stop.
At first he could not identify it, but as the noise grew louder, and closer, instinctively, he understood what he was hearing.
He plucked the two-way radio off his belt and keyed the button as he resumed his run toward the perimeter. “Annie! Get away from the cabin now!” he cried through grunts of exertion.
Static sounded and Annie’s voice came back to him. “What’s wrong?”
“Don’t ask questions. Just do it, now! Take Ariel and run as fast as you can to the caves. Don’t stop and don’t look back. I’ll meet you there. Go! Now!”
“We’re on our way,” Annie’s breathless voice answered back and Doug knew she was running.
Doug was close to the perimeter of trees now, his powerful legs pumping like pistons. He pulled his weapon from around his neck and jacked a round into the chamber. He made the perimeter just as the large Predator Drone screamed over his head. A moment later twin missiles fired from the drone’s undercarriage followed by a series of powerful explosions that shook the earth and staggered him. In the distance a small mushroom cloud rose above the trees.
Doug stopped, his breath coming in massive spasms. He could not believe his eyes. Horrified, he stood and watched smoke and fire belch above the forest.
The cabin had been destroyed.
In the next instant the inner perimeter detonated, a three hundred and sixty degree circle of fiery staccato blasts that lifted Doug off his feet and blew him ten feet back from where he’d been standing. He came down hard on his back, the wind punched from his lungs. He lay breathing in spasms feeling like his lungs had been flash fried. He did a quick pat down of his body to make sure he wasn’t on fire. He wasn’t.
Even as Doug struggled to his feet, he heard the drone’s engines whine above the crackling sound of the burning forest, and knew that it was banking back around for another go. Doug pictured a room with a technician/pilot sitting behind a console directing the drone’s flight path. Behind him stood members of a shadow government ordering his every move.
Was it possible that he’d been seen? Was the drone retracing its flight path so that it could fire at him, or had it spotted Annie and Ariel making their way up toward the ice caves? He prayed that they’d heard the explosions and had taken cover until the drone had passed overhead.
Either way the drone must not be allowed to unleash any more hellfire. Doug’s weapon was an AR-15 assault rifle with a fully automatic function. He snapped the switch to automatic. Up ahead there was a small clearing. He sprinted towards it hoping for a shot unencumbered by tree tops. The drone was gaining fast, however, looping back around and taking the same path as before. He knew he was vulnerable standing out in the open. But he did not care. Annie and Ariel must be protected at all costs. He faced the direction of the oncoming drone aiming his weapon skyward. As it approached, the drone unleashed a volley of .50 Caliber rounds which churned up the forest in their haste to reach the small clearing in which Doug stood.
He had been seen. There was no doubt about it.
Doug aimed his weapon skyward and placed the sight directly on the nose of the screeching drone. Not waiting for the aircraft to get any closer he depressed the trigger. In fully automatic mode the AR-15 fires at the rate of 800 rounds per minute. As the weapon hammered his sore shoulder Doug drew the sight along a straight line just ahead of the drone’s flight path, and then lifted the barrel higher and faster, spreading the line of fire out ahead of the drone. In theory the drone would fly directly into his volley.
Doug stood his ground even as the .50 caliber rounds spitting from the drone inched ever closer, chewing off the tops off trees and tearing up the forest floor. In a matter of seconds the rounds would strafe the clearing and cut him down.
Still Doug did not move. He would fire until the rifle’s magazine was empty.
A sudden explosion rocked the drone, its left side sagging, sending its .50 caliber rounds flying wildly off into the forest. The drone began to tumble, a fiery pinwheel rolling toward the earth on a trajectory directly toward the clearing in which Doug stood.
He did not wait around to see what would happen but exploded into a run. He’d made perhaps fifty yards when the drone struck the earth, erupting in a singeing burst of orange fire. A second later a dull boom rolled across the forest on a pressure wave strong enough to stagger him and knock him to his knees.
Doug felt heat on his back and smelled hair burning as he scratched his way to his feet and kept running. He did not venture a glance back, but kept moving in the direction of the cabin, through the perimeter of diminishing flame, his hand reaching for the two-way radio on his belt.
Annie, with Ariel clinging tightly to her, ran like the wind toward the woods behind the cabin. Doug had been so insistent that she get going immediately there hadn’t been time to salvage anything. What she would have salvaged was a little vague. She’d come here with nothing, and in four years they had purposely not accumulated much, knowing that this life was temporary and if they had to run they wouldn’t be burdened by “things”. She supposed all along that this is how it would end. Their mostly quiet life interrupted suddenly, perhaps violently, by something totally unpredictable. But so far nothing unexpected or violent had happened. What was so urgent?
Her internal question was answered by the annoying buzz of a low-flying aircraft which caused her to pick up her pace. The forest was heavy here and just ahead lay a boulder the size of a house. The woods here were filled with such rocks, deposited by glaciers during the last ice age. If she could reach the boulder before the plane went over perhaps she and Ariel would not be seen.
Behind them the cabin exploded in a hive of noise and a brilliant flash of light. Annie dove behind the boulder sheltering Ariel with her body. Thankfully they were deep enough in the woods to escape the effects of the explosion.
The buzz-bomb whined overhead and then began to bank back around. Annie was reasonably certain they hadn’t been seen. Not waiting around to see what would happen next, she picked Ariel up and resumed her run up the twisting trail through the tall trees, moving like the wind, panic breathing down her neck.
She did not look back until she’d reached the halfway point. In the past she and Doug had used a variety of trails which all led, one way or another, in the general direction of the caves, sometimes altering their route drastically so as not to leave a distinctive human footprint. Most of these trails were here before they came, of course, beat into the earth long ago by Indians or game. None ended directly at the cave entrance, however, so it would be reasonably difficult for anyone to locate the caves strictly by following one of the trails.
“Mama, I hear something,” Ariel said.
Annie stopped. She was at the point of exhaustion anyway and needed to put Ariel down.
“What is it, Ariel?” Annie stood very still beside her daughter waiting for her heart and her breathing to settle down. The weather had been extremely hot and humid in recent days and sweat poured off her in rivulets. Once she had herself under control she strained to hear the sound Ariel had spoken of, but could not make out anything above the steady pounding of her own heart. They were far enough up the trail so that the noise of the burning cabin was no longer a factor.
But there was something. Annie felt it more than heard it, a heavy, charged feeling in the air, that sense of barely contained thunder one feels just before a lightning storm. It felt like something was about to happen. Annie could not imagine what, but she certainly knew how she felt.
“Do you hear it, Mama?”
Annie took her daughter’s hand and squeezed it. She remembered Ariel’s birth here in the wilderness, how within just a few weeks of being born both she and Doug knew that Ariel was a very special little human being. She had instincts like no one else they’d ever known. They had learned to trust her, and Annie was not about to stop now. “I feel it, sweetheart, but I don’t hear anything. Is that what you mean? You feel it more than you hear it?”
Ariel nodded wide-eyed. “Uh huh.”
Annie made a fist and put it over her heart. “The feeling that something’s wrong right here?”
“Yes, Mama,” Ariel said and began to cry.
Annie got down on her knees and took Ariel in her arms hugging her fiercely. God, she was so small, and so damned fragile. No one would ever lay a hand on thi
s child as long as she was alive. And then a thought struck Annie that made her weak all over. It took everything inside her to ask Ariel the question. “It’s not Papa, is it sweetheart?”
Ariel hesitated a moment before answering. “Papa’s coming,” she said. “I can feel him. He wants us to be safe.”
“But is he safe Ariel?”
Ariel shook her head as tears continued to spill from her eyes. “Someone very bad is after him, Mama. But he says it doesn’t matter. We have to be safe first.”
Annie stood up and looked back down the trail. Gooseflesh crawled across her body, feeling like a swarm of insects. “Damn . . .” she said, knowing in her heart that both Doug and Ariel were right. At all cost their first priority was keeping Ariel safe. Then she remembered the two-way clipped to her belt. She pulled it off and keyed the talk button. “Do you hear me, Doug?”
Nothing.
A sudden and terrible silence descended over the forest. In the three years since coming here Annie could not remember it ever being this quiet, this still. Not even in winter, when the deep snowpack muffled most sounds.
“We need to go, Mama.” Ariel was standing rigid, wary as an animal, a three foot tall kid, but every bit an adult by the look of complex concentration on her face. “We don’t have much time.”
Spooked, Annie scooped Ariel up in her arms and continued her run up the trail toward the caves. There were weapons there, and deep dark sections of caverns to hide in if necessary.
A pile of burning rubble was all that remained of the cabin when Doug arrived, out of breath and close to panic. The heat was intense. No way could he get close enough to see if Annie and Ariel were in there. He circumnavigated the cabin anyway, his heart hammering in his chest.
Of course they’re not in there. You heard her say she was on her way to the caves.
He searched anyway. Once he was positive they were nowhere in the immediate vicinity, he keyed the two-way’s talk button. “Annie, where are you?”
Song of Ariel: A Blue Light Thriller (Book 2) (Blue Light Series) Page 2
