She cried out her tears then we climbed back on the bikes and resumed our route. We rode in a mournful silence until she broke it.
“What’s Canada like?” she asked.
Thankful for the topic change, I shrugged. “I’ve never actually been there, but Michelle has been living in Kamloops for about five years now. She said it’s a lot dryer than western Washington. The winter is shorter and the summer is longer. In the pictures she sent me, it looks a lot like my hometown in south-central Oregon; sagebrush, mountains, and juniper.”
Ashley’s look of interest encouraged me to continue. “It’s a large city, about 100,000 people.”
“That’s like twice the size of Olympia.” Her eyes grew round.
“Yeah, it’s pretty big.” I raised my eyebrow at her. “You know, you’re going to have to work on a few things.”
“Hm?” she asked.
“Well, you’re gonna have to start saying ‘eh’ after every sentence and pronouncing about as ‘ahboot’.”
She looked at me sideways, and I could almost see the wheels spinning in her head.
“That right, eh? Ahboot time I start—” An eruption of giggles impeded her progress.
“Mahvelous dahling.” I made some goofy, grand gesture with my hand. “You’ll pass for a Canuck yet.”
Ashley’s body suddenly collapsed and she toppled from her bike with a thud.
“Ash!” I screamed
A sharp pain pierced my neck and darkness overcame me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
~Southwestern border of Mount Baker National Forest, Washington, June 26
COMMANDER ORTEGA STUDIED the cave before him. It was large and easily defendable with a small stream flowing beside it. He crossed himself and bowed his head. “Thank you, Father—your blessings are plentiful.”
A soldier approached and saluted, waiting to be acknowledged.
“Niehls.” The commander nodded at his man. “Report.”
“Sir, we’ve located their base six miles due west.”
The commander’s eyes widened. “God is good.” He kissed the crucifix that hung around his neck. “Did anyone get close enough to get a head count?”
“Yessir. It’s gonna be rough.”
“Come then. Let’s call a counsel. No time to waste.”
* * *
In the darkness, Connor could barely distinguish the outlines of men closing in on him.
Gina whispered, “Just come with us. Be easy and no one will get hurt.”
“What about them?” he nodded toward the girls.
“Up to you.” She shrugged. “They can come, or we can leave them behind.”
She held all the cards. Connor wasn’t about to drag the girls along into God-knows-what. Now that he’d gotten Gina talking, he’d seen her true elitist Nazi colors. No doubt her father and the rest of their whacked out followers held the same beliefs. Liberty and Ashley were far from weak, but he didn’t know if they’d fit into Gina’s twisted ideals about strength. No, the girls would be safer if he pretend not to care about them.
“They’ll just get in the way,” Connor said, handing her his Glock. “Leave them.”
“Good.” Satisfaction dripped from her voice as she accepted the gun.
“Wow,” Jeff said as he approached, his voice hostile and sarcastic. “You’re leaving behind a woman and child to fend for themselves? You’re a real piece of work, Dunstan.”
You have no idea, kid.
Gina turned on her brother. “You shut your mouth. You know nothing! And if you wake them up, you can stay here with them. Permanently.” She ejected the clip from Connor’s gun, studied its contents, and snapped it back into place.
Jeff squared his jaw. “Gina, we can’t just leave them.”
“Ugh, you’re so weak. You shouldn’t even be along for this. We can, and we will. And if you have a problem with that, you can take it up with Daddy. Now, why don’t you go … counsel someone?” She stormed off into the bushes.
Jeff shook his head at Connor then crept back to his bag and started gathering his belongings.
Shadows had kept their guns trained on Connor throughout the exchange. They continued to follow him as he rolled up his sleeping bag and shouldered his pack. Still fuming, Gina reappeared and grabbed her things, announcing it was time to leave. Then she turned and stomped off. Jeff glanced back at the girls then followed his sister.
The moon was in the middle of the sky when they left. Ashley and Liberty slept through the departure without so much as a peep. It all seemed unreal, like there should be some sappy goodbye, tears, or something. Anything. They’re gonna be so pissed. Connor had promised Jacob he would take care of Ashley. As he silently and unceremoniously bid the child goodbye, he wondered if his brother would have made the same choice. It seemed the only way Connor could keep the promise he’d made was to walk out on it. If he thought about that enough, he’d go crazy.
More shadows joined the group once they reached the road, bringing the armed escort count up to six.
“Search him.” The order came from a voice sounding barely past puberty.
Someone grabbed the pack from Connor’s shoulders while hands roughly patted him down. They confiscated the knife in a holster around his waist and another strapped to his ankle.
“He’s clean.”
No one returned Connor’s pack. He leaned close to Gina and whispered, “Who are these people and where are they taking us?”
“Don’t worry, baby, I got you.” Gina patted his arm like he was some sort of invalid.
Connor narrowly resisted the urge to wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze. Everything about the woman disgusted him; from her fake smile to her annoying laugh. He hated the way she looked down her nose at Ashley and Liberty and detested her overpowering perfume and the way she’d manipulated him. Now she’d forced him to leave the people he cared most about. The only thing keeping him from taking her down was fear of retribution. If he struck, one of her goons would likely kill him. Then what? Would they go back for Ashley and Liberty? Connor needed to understand exactly who and what he was dealing with before he made a move.
“And I’m thankful for that, but I do need to know who these people are,” he replied.
“Daddy’s soldiers. They’re taking us to him.” She searched the group. “Where’s Jeff? He better be here, or I swear, I will slit his lying throat myself.”
“Soldiers?” Connor asked. “Your father has soldiers?” They were wearing fatigues and packing guns, but they sounded so young. “Your dad is what … military? Connor felt a twinge of hope. Is the military reorganizing?
“Not exactly. Well, not anymore.” She sighed. “Jeff! Dammit, where is he?” She pointed at one of the soldiers. “You.”
The man nodded. “Yes ma’am.”
“Find my brother. Shoot him if he’s not with the company.”
“Yes ma’am.” The soldier saluted and turned away.
Jeff appeared and draped his arm over Gina’s shoulders. “Aw, shucks, sis. I didn’t know you cared.”
She elbowed him in the side and he pulled his arm away, covering his stomach. “You think this is a joke?” she asked. “I put my butt on the line for you. And if I catch you running off to aid the castoffs … well, you know Daddy won’t be pleased.”
“Oh, no.” Jeff covered his mouth in mock horror. “Anything but the old drunk’s displeasure.”
Gina slapped him. “You’re an ungrateful dirt-bag. That ‘old drunk’ is our father and he’s doing more to help this country than anyone else. He deserves your respect.”
Jeff and Gina seemed to stare each other down in the darkness. Then finally, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’m here aren’t I?” he asked.
She didn’t answer.
Jeff’s stopped walking and his shadow fell behind, to the back of the group. Gina watched him, and when he took a step forward she returned her attention to Connor.
“What do you mean, not exactly?” Connor
asked.
“Hm?” Gina sounded puzzled.
“How is your father not exactly military?”
“Oh.” She glanced at the men around her. “These guys weren’t military. They were part of the Progression.”
Connor’s blood froze. Oh, hell.
“What?” she asked. “That’s not going to be a problem, right?”
Connor’s brain screamed, reminding him of all the reasons why it was a huge problem. The Progression definitely wasn’t military. They were more like a lab experiment gone horribly wrong. Only the test subjects were kids whose service earned them side effects much worse than cancer. The Progression was a disaster, created in an attempt to better supply the nation’s military with fully prepared soldiers. With the best intentions in mind the department of defense had created monsters.
Headed by Lieutenant Donovan Justice, the program started as MTCT, or Military Training Camps for Teens. The goal was to provide young adults with a better understanding of military life and patriotism. Initially, MTCT focused exclusively on preliminary training; obstacle courses, marches, first-aid, navigations, communications and team building. The children excelled at the menial tasks, encouraging their leaders to advance them to hand-to-hand combat. Artillery training was the next natural step.
MTCT began only months before Connor’s tour ended. By the time he began practicing law, Lieutenant Justice had transformed the program into a controversial branch of the military renamed the Progression. Arguments ensued about giving children—who didn’t fully understand the value of life—the power of death. After a long and expensive political battle, the military was granted the freedom to arm their guinea pigs. The pliable and easily swayed children were taught a whole new level of dedication and the government had a terrifying new tool.
And now Connor was their captive.
* * *
The sun was coming up when Connor and his captors reached Big Lake. They turned down a side street and continued on when the road ended, following a man-made trail away from civilization. Crossing streams and ducking under branches, they marched until early afternoon.
Connor observed two patrols before the forest opened up to reveal the Progression camp. The camp consisted of six large tents and numerous smaller ones, running along a small stream. A waist-high barbed wire fence surrounded the area to discourage anyone from coming or going except by the main entrance. To further dissuade uninvited guests, armed men marched in pairs around the fence.
“Welcome home,” Gina said. Her perfectly thin lips spread over her perfectly straight teeth in another perfectly plastic smile, making Connor perfectly nauseous.
He pasted on an equally artificial smile. “It looks … efficient.”
Soldiers led him around the fence, through the main entrance, and toward the large tent in the center of camp. Conversations buzzed around, but the loudest voice came from inside the tent. One of the guards slipped inside, and a few minutes later Connor was invited in to meet the major. It took Connor’s eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light of the tent. He blinked rapidly and glanced around.
“Ah, here you are.” A barely five and half foot, stocky man wobbled toward Connor, favoring his right leg. His russet colored hair was short and thinning, framing a face made up of hard angles and sunken features. As he neared, his breath reeked of whisky and his arctic, calculating eyes seemed to strip away Connor’s disguise.
“This is a treat,” his deep voice boomed. He addressed Gina, “You don’t know who you’ve brought me, do you, dove?”
Gina closed the distance between them. “Of course I do, Daddy. This is Connor Dunstan. The lawyer from Olympia.”
The major shook his head. “No. He’s a bit more than that.” He held out his hand to Connor. “Hello Commander Dunstan. Welcome to my camp.”
“Commander?” Gina asked.
“Been a long time since I was active duty,” Connor replied, shaking the major’s hand. “I’m just an attorney now. Or I was anyway. I’m sorry sir, but I didn’t catch your name?”
“Major Jack Thompson,” the major replied. Turning to his daughter he added, “He’s just being modest, Gina. This one is talented. Special Forces Commander. One of the youngest and best.” He turned back to Connor. “I was sorry to hear about your last tour.”
Connor bit his tongue. When he could finally trust himself to respond in a way that wouldn’t get him killed he said a polite, “Thank you, Sir.”
“What happened?” Gina asked.
“There’ll be plenty of time for old war stories later,” Major Thompson said, pulling his daughter close and inspecting her. “You look tired.
“Exhausted. Looking forward to sleeping on a cot tonight.” Her gaze shifted to Connor, but he pretended not to notice.
“I’m afraid I’ve spoiled her,” the major said, shooing his daughter away. “But it’s hard not to when she reminds me so much of her mother, God rest her soul.”
Connor smiled. “Gina is quite lovely.” If you’re into the type of women that would kill baby seals for sport—he turned his smile toward Gina—with her bare hands.
The major looked past Connor to a group of soldiers entering the tent. “I see she managed to bring back her brother as well.” The major frowned as he nodded in Jeff’s direction. “That’s inconvenient.”
Jeff stepped forward. “Major,” he said, flatly.
“You were lucky this time; Gina came for you. If you leave this camp without permission again, I will come for you myself.” He sneered at his son. “And you will not be coming back. Understand?”
“Sir, yes sir.” Jeff lowered his eyes and stepped back into the shadows of the tent.
Another young soldier entered and stood to attention.
“Rohjers.” The major smiled at his man. “Report.”
“They’re here, Sir.” The newcomer kept his pose, awaiting further orders.
“Well what are you waiting for?” A sadistic grin spread across the major’s face as he watched Connor’s expression. “Send the ladies in.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
MY EYES FELT like they were glued shut.
Clip clop, clip clop, clip clop.
The sound was obnoxious and loud, demanding that my head beat in time with it.
Clip clop, clip clop, clip clop.
A familiar scent tickled my memories; leather, sweat and … and … horse? I tried again to open my eyes, but darkness held me in its embrace. Maybe my eyes are open and it’s night? I couldn’t see any shapes though. Nor could I move. Searching my memory for clues, I saw Ashley riding a bike. Then she toppled over and …
Ashley? I wanted to scream out for her, but my mouth refused to form her name. My hands dangled uselessly above my head, pulling at my shoulder blades, making me wonder why I was upside down. My throat felt like it had been scrubbed with sandpaper and something dug into my chest, making it impossible to take a deep breath. I finally forced one of my eyes open. The undercarriage of the horse greeted me, complete with a dirty-grey cinch. The forest floor passed by above my head. My face itched, but I couldn’t convince the muscles in my arm to bend properly so I could scratch it. I leaned forward, trying to rub it against the horse’s stomach. It took forever to get my body to cooperate, and once it finally started swaying, I couldn’t get it to stop.
Clip clop, clip, clop, swish, thud.
I’d fallen off the horse and had somehow landed on my back. The sun, in the center of the sky, tried to blind me as I looked for clues about our location. We had been traveling down a well trodden dirt path in the middle of the forest. Trees loomed on either side of the path, making it difficult for me to see anything else. The horse I’d been riding stopped, turning to look at me like I was the most idiotic human she’d ever carried. After all, my job hadn’t been very difficult. She was the one doing all the work. Shadows moved in, and then arms pulled me to my wobbly feet.
“Steady, there.” A teen boy stood before me, holding up my arm.
“Is sh
e okay?” The voice came from behind me.
“I don’t know, how much did you use?” The boy ahead of me spoke again.
“No more than normal, but look at her. When did she eat last?”
When did I eat last? I wondered. We didn’t eat breakfast, so last night?
The rapid changes in elevation, the insatiable pounding of my head, the ping-pong match of conversation, and finally the idea of food did me in. I leaned over and dry heaved. Nothing came up, but the pain of retching made me eyes water. Hands braced on my knees, I fought to regain control of my stomach as the fire in my throat raged out of control.
“Water. Please,” I asked.
Then some pimply-faced teenage angel put a bottle of water in my hand. I fumbled with the cap until the same angel took it from me and returned it opened. I tipped the bottle up and drained the contents down my blazing throat. It stung at first, then felt like aloe soothing a sunburn.
“Thank you,” I said, handing him back the bottle.
He led me back to the horse, helped me mount, and adjusted the stirrups to fit my feet. I thanked him again. The world was still wobbly, so I leaned forward, onto the horse’s neck, his mane scratchy against my cheek.
“Ashley?” I asked.
The boy pointed toward the horse that carried Ashley. She was draped over the back of a horse, behind another young rider and she wasn’t moving. “Is she okay?” I asked.
“She’s fine. Just sleeping.” He mounted his own horse and we all started moving. The man in front of me held my reins. Four young men surrounded us. I had no idea who they were or where they’d come from. The last thing I remembered was—
“Where are our bikes?” My tongue seemed swollen, slurring my words into one. What’s wrong with me? I sound like an idiot. I feel like an idiot.
The boy closest to me gave me a very perplexed look.
Wrong question? I wondered what I was supposed to ask. Surrounding us? An escort? “Where are you taking us?”
Rescuing Liberty: Perseverance Book 1 Page 18
