The Heart of War: Book Seven of the What's Left of My World Series

by C. A. Rudolph

  Will skirted the JLTV to stand next to him. “I’m very sorry to hear that, Peter.”

  “Echoed.” Fischer reached inside for his canteen and handed it off. “Sorry for your loss. How well did you know them?”

  “We’ve been through a lot together,” Peter said, barely able to get the words out as his emotions began to take hold. He sipped from the canteen and wiped his mouth. “They might as well have been family.”

  Will shared a dreadful look with his unit cohort. “Fischer and I…we’ve been there. We can relate. We know how it feels…to lose…” He trailed off, unsure whether to reveal what had transpired prior to their arrival. “How long ago did this happen?”

  Peter took a long pull from the canteen, looking nearly overwhelmed. “I…I don’t know. It’s been fifteen…maybe twenty minutes? Could be longer. Sorry, my mind’s really spinning. I feel nauseous.”

  “That’s okay, we get it,” Fischer said. “That smoke is awfully heavy. You said something about gas?”

  “Yeah, that’s the old Perry place. They owned an excavation company, there’s loaders, dump trucks, and dozers over there, parked right beside two or three big fuel tanks.” Peter hesitated a long moment. “They’re all gone now. Kristen…she moved out after her husband was killed…and now she’s…” He stammered and went back to the canteen, unable to finish.

  Fischer strode to the road’s edge, now able to feel the fire’s intensity. Waves of heat breezed by like an ocean of unseen magma. “We should give this a close look before we head out, Will. Maybe see about containing it somehow.”

  Will nodded. “Agreed. Pete, would you care to accompany us? We’d rather not leave you by yourself.”

  “If it’s all the same to you guys, I’d prefer not to. I’ve seen all I care to see, and it’s hitting me a lot harder than I ever thought it would.” A pause. “I’d wanted to grab some bedsheets to cover the bodies with…out of respect, but I’m having second thoughts now. It’s a real mess over there. I don’t think I can go through with it.”

  “That’s fully understandable,” Will said. “If it’s okay with you and you’ll permit us, Nate and I can see to that matter.”

  “I’m grateful. I’ll…just be a few minutes.” He trotted to and up his driveway like a man hauling the burden of a pretend eighty-pound rucksack.

  “This day is getting worse by the minute, Sharpie.” Fischer removed his cover and tossed it inside the JLTV’s passenger compartment with zeal. “Six dead so far, three of them civilians. And how are we supposed to put that fire down? With extinguishers and buckets of water from the creek? Wishful fucking thinking.”

  Will’s eyes narrowed. “Keep your head, Fish. Stay in the game; it’s not over yet.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Peter returned with his wife, Amy, glued to him several minutes later, her eyes damp and rubbed puffy and red after receiving the unfortunate news.

  Amy handed off a pile of mixed cotton bedding she’d carried beneath her free arm. “I hope it’s enough—and we don’t want them back, so use them all if you have to. It’s the least we can do.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” replied Will.

  “Amy.”

  “Sorry…the preference for informality around here is taking some getting used to.” Will smiled. “Thank you, Amy. We’ll put them to good use.” Before turning away to hand off the bedsheets to Fischer, he noticed Peter had brought along the radio he’d mentioned before. Will gave the couple a moment before issuing an earnest request. “I’m sorry for even having to ask this, and if we weren’t already in a bind ourselves, I wouldn’t.” He pointed to the device. “Would you mind if we borrowed your radio?”

  Chapter 27

  Her concerns for Neo alleviated for the moment, Lauren’s reflections drifted away from the current dilemma’s uncertainty, back to home, her family’s welfare, and ultimately to Grace. No one aside from her, Neo, and her sister had been anywhere near the yet-to-be-explained blast that had taken out the shed. Her parents had been visiting neighbors, and everyone else in the vicinity had either been en route to or already at their search team’s chosen rally point.

  Her anxiety approaching its limit, she rose to her feet. “Jae, I need to check on my sister. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Woo Tang pivoted. “Check on her where?”

  “In the cabin…where I left her.”

  Jean rose with Lauren and went about fretting with the scorched lengths of her hair. “Sweetie, I’m sure she’s fine. Pregnancy is a strange beast. Don’t let it take you by surprise if she isn’t herself. Want me to go with you?”

  “No…I’ll just be a minute, but thanks, Jean.” Lauren sprinted to the porch and made entry, her eyes immediately falling upon an empty couch. She scanned the walls, the floor, the broken glass scattered about, and sporadic traces of what appeared to be blood while her unease gnawed inexorably away at her and a lump swelled in her throat.

  She swiftly moved about the cabin, calling out while opening doors and clearing rooms with a cupped hand behind her ear to accentuate comebacks. “Grace? Grace!” After verifying the entire upper floor vacant, she opened the door leading to the staircase and to the cellar below, where her sister and Christian shared a room. “Grace! Are you down here?”

  Forgoing using the headlamp dangling from a nail to her right, Lauren took the stairs two steps or more at a time until her feet met with bare concrete. “Grace? Dammit, where are you?” The lump in her throat was fiercer now, propagating like a malignant polyp. Nothing apart from all items inanimate revealed themselves where Lauren stood, and she forced herself to absorb yet another disheartening feeling as it engulfed her.

  Cursing aloud, she dashed up the stairs, back to the hall and into the living room, then knelt and touched the syrupy, crimson droplets adhering to the floor and glass remnants strewn about. She rubbed it between her index finger and thumb and took a whiff, noting the smell of iron. This was blood—her sister’s blood. There could be no other explanation.

  Lauren tried willing away this all-too-familiar feeling of panic, the expectation of the worst-case scenario coming to pass, but it was a losing battle for her. She rose, feeling restlessness in her legs and weakness in her knees. She felt thirsty, and every inch of her skin beaded sweat. Grace, where are you? Where did you go?

  She put her back against the hallway wall and took one last look around. The handheld Baofeng radio that Grace had frequently kept with her since the day Fred had distributed them was on the table. Lauren gave it a cursory look, opted to take it with her, then made her return to the front porch in measured steps, reaching for the closest column to steady herself while she fumbled with the device.

  She lamented not having learned much about how these devices worked beyond the volume, squelch knobs, and channel selectors. Fred had drawn up a communications plan months ago, and a specific set of frequencies had since been in use to maintain a line of contact from one end of the valley to the other. She powered up the radio and adjusted the volume to maximum, leaving all other settings as they were, assuming Grace had already configured them aptly.

  Fred and Evans had returned with Fred’s ‘deuce and a half’, and he and Woo Tang were carefully placing Neo into the bed, assisted by bystanders Jean and Francis. Once loaded, the couple jumped in to ride with him while Fred moved to dangle from the open passenger door. Evans tapped the horn twice and they were off, leaving Woo Tang to stand solitaire in the Russells’ yard, his military-grade transceiver fastened to his ear.

  Lauren hopped from the porch and made her way to him, and a distant, dark funnel of rolling smoke above the trees that she hadn’t noticed before stole her attention. She observed it worriedly as she closed the distance. A voice was emanating from Woo Tang’s radio, but she couldn’t make out what was being said or to whom it belonged. It sounded almost like warbling through her abated hearing.

  Sensing Lauren’s presence from behind, Woo Tang pivoted on a heel and acknowledged her finger indicating
the smoke plume. “An investigation is in the works. Is Grace squared away?”

  “No. She’s not inside, Jae—I can’t find her anywhere. There’s broken glass all over the place and…blood on the floor.” A hand to her hip, Lauren looked around frantically, at a loss for answers. “She must’ve gone somewhere…I have to look for her. Something could be wrong…she could be hurt…or it could be the baby.”

  “It would be more sensible for you to remain here in the event she returns.” Woo Tang’s radio sounded off again, and he rotated away, bringing it close to his ear.

  Lauren moved in to hear what was being said. As best she could distinguish, several men were reporting the smell of smoke, possible fires, and several unconfirmed explosions.

  A moment later, Woo Tang sent her a fleeting, exigent glance during a break in transmissions. “Lauren Russell, I apologize, but I must go at once.”

  “Where? Why?”

  “To the FOL,” he shouted, setting off in an accelerated hurry. “There has been another incident.”

  “Another?” Lauren surveyed the smoke column still spiraling upward. “Did something happen to the church?”

  Woo Tang didn’t answer, only hurried away faster than Lauren had ever seen him move.

  “Should I come with you?” she bellowed.

  “No! Stay close to home! Wait for your family!”

  “But, Jae, I—”

  “There is no time to argue over this!”

  Lauren didn’t know what to do now. She didn’t know where to turn either. This upheaval of a day had become an anfractuous jumble of unparalleled events, turmoil, and heartache. And now she’d been left here alone to contemplate the whole of it and worry herself to the brink of delirium. Benumbed, she watched him depart and disappear over the fence and into the road. Then Lauren turned away, heading for a destination yet to be determined as her ponderings lifted off and reached orbital speed.

  The shed and all the family’s belongings stored within had been blown to smithereens somehow. Neo was in critical condition, and she had narrowly escaped injury herself. Grace was unaccounted for. Fred’s unafraid yet strangely disquieted behavior and those unusual remarks. Fast mover. Spread yourselves out. Less favorable target. And what could rationalize Woo Tang being so atypically neurotic?

  Then it hit her. The pillar of smoke, reports of other explosions, Jae’s mention of another incident. Something terrible was taking place. The valley had seemingly fallen under attack all over again, but in a far more distinct and hostile fashion. The magnitude of aggression had intensified. It was hateful. Vicious. And deliberate. Indeed, the problem left unsolved had arrived today on Lauren’s doorstep.

  Looking to her sister’s portable radio, she brought it close and thumbed the push-to-talk. “Hello? If anyone can hear me, come back, please. It’s Lauren…Russell. I’m at home, and I’m looking for Grace, I can’t find her anywhere. If anyone’s seen her, please let me know. Over.”

  The split second she unkeyed, the speaker thundered to life. “Lauren? It’s Dad. Are you okay? Are you safe?”

  She put a hand to her chest, feeling her heart flutter. Her father’s voice used to make everything better for her. It had always reassured her and made her feel protected, but today, it wasn’t enough. “I’m okay, Dad. I mean, I think I am. Where are you? Where’s Mom?”

  “Your mom and I are at the Vincents’. We’re just now hearing what happened. Fred and the others are carrying Neo in now. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine, Dad, but I could’ve been killed if Neo hadn’t protected me. He saved my life.” Lauren sniffled. “The shed is totaled…it’s in pieces…and I can’t find Grace anywhere. Do you know where she is?”

  A few seconds ticked past before Alan replied, “Grace is with us.”

  “What?” Lauren snapped. “Why? How did she get there? Why is she there?”

  “Jade brought her here. She told us Ken found her in the yard, but he doesn’t know what happened to her. There are gashes all over her hands, knees and feet…she’s lost a lot of blood. She’s unconscious; that’s all we know. They’re examining her now.”

  “Dad, I don’t understand,” Lauren seethed, mashing down hard on the PTT. “Those doctors don’t know what’s wrong with her? How can they not know? Dammit, tell them to do their job! Tell us what’s wrong with my sister!”

  “L, listen to me, please. I know you’re upset. If they knew anything, they’d tell us, and then I would tell you. You know that. I would never withhold anything from you. There are a lot of people here now, and it’s getting hectic. They won’t even allow us in to see her.”

  “Fuck this,” Lauren spat, missing fully her father’s virgin utterance of her pet name since returning. “I’m coming there, Dad. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “Lauren, no!” Alan’s tone went vastly stern. “Don’t come here! Don’t even waste your time. Just stay at home and wait for us. We’ll be there before long and we’ll talk.” He paused. “Listen…something’s happening here today…in the valley. We don’t yet know what it is or what it means for us. And I want you where it’s safest. Coming here puts you at risk, and it won’t help Grace. So please just stay put.”

  Lauren pulled the radio away and stared at it hatefully. She wanted to defy him and see her sister. She wanted for nothing more than to march to the Vincents’, kick the front door in, and hold the good doctor at gunpoint and watch him piss his pants as she had before. But it was rare for her to explicitly disobey her father’s wishes. He wanted her at home and had a reason for it.

  She squeezed the PTT, her eyes slamming shut in clear conflict with herself. “Okay, Dad, fine…I’ll stay. Call me when you know something.”

  “Of course we will. We’ll see you soon. Stay safe and close to the radio. We love you.”

  Lauren sighed and looked to the sky. She didn’t want to be here, she didn’t want to be alone at home right now, but her options had all but eroded away, as would a coastal shore mauled by storm-driven tides. As she yearned for an end to this dreadful turn of events, she felt the radio’s speaker vibrate in her hand. Lauren pressed it to her ear and listened intently, reasoning it was her dad with news of Grace.

  “Is the frequency in use? I say again, is the frequency in use? Is anyone monitoring this channel? Over.”

  It wasn’t her father at all. She couldn’t be sure, but the voice sounded an awful lot like Will Sharp. Lauren keyed the transmit button. “Hello, I hear you. Who is this?”

  The caller replied instantly. “Lauren? Is that you? It’s Will. How do you copy?”

  “Yes, it’s me. I copy you fine.”

  “Good, that’s good. Thanks for coming back to me. I’m with Nate Fischer, and we’re in a jam…are you in a position to assist?”

  Lauren wasn’t sure what that meant, but was alerted despite her distress. Will sounded okay, but his tone was grave and hurried. He had shocking news to convey. “Sure…I’ll try.”

  “Roger. Our present location is the old Perry residence on the far end of the valley…we have urgent traffic to remit to the unit. Are you anywhere close to Neo or Richie? Or the chief?”

  Lauren went to offer an immediate reply but thought her answer through first. “No, I’m alone, Will. Neo…he’s hurt…out of action.” She stumbled over the words. “Woo Tang was here. He left for the church…I’m not sure, but I think something happened there.”

  “Roger that, full copy,” Will muttered, exhaling his burden over the mic. “Lauren, this is serious. Doesn’t matter how you do it, but I need you to run the chief down and get your radio in his hand. I must speak directly to him. Do you understand? Can you make that happen?”

  Lauren swiveled, her heart skipping a beat. Woo Tang was long gone by now, though she couldn’t estimate how long it had been since he’d left. A foot pursuit was her first notion, but she felt jittery and didn’t know if she could intercept without her afflicted frame giving out on her.

  Then she spotted a lone
ATV parked beside the cabin, hustled to it, and verified the ignition key present before calling back. “Will—I’ll get him, I just need a minute.”

  Snapping the radio to her waist by the belt clip, Lauren straddled the Honda Rancher and cranked the engine alive, then revved the throttle and gunned it to the driveway’s edge, skidding sideways onto Trout Run Road. Aligning her path of travel, she accelerated hard, hurtling the four-wheeler to highway speeds, slowing only when she neared the entrance to St. James Church.

  Woo Tang was on the incline above, about to make entry into the church’s diminutive gravel parking lot. His transceiver still glued to him, he peered over his shoulder upon hearing the Rancher’s engine on approach. When the tires gnashed the gravel of the entryway, he rotated fully and dispatched a scathing glare to the driver.

  Lauren pulled beside him. She shut off the engine, unsnapped her radio, and presented it to him. “Here, Jae, it’s Wi—”

  “Lauren Russell! Unacceptable! I ordered you to remain ho—”

  “Dammit, Jae, I heard what you said!” She shoved the Baofeng in his face. “Here! Take it! It’s Will!”

  Woo Tang accepted the smaller handheld while lowering the other, and his gaze became inexpressible in an instant. Passions he had never allowed to surface were becoming visible and were manifesting into a morbid singularity no single word could define.

  Lauren had never seen him falter, but the events of today were weighing on him immensely and seemed to now be tearing away at his resilience.

  “Thank you. My…apologies,” he said to her finally, and turned away to make his call.

  Lauren dismounted and started to follow, but the scene before her struck her like a pitiless thunderbolt to the soul. She gasped loudly and froze. The smoke she had seen from a distance was in full view now, and the primitive church that had stood here for as long as she could remember, the one she was now expecting to see, was no longer there. A jagged mountain of smoldering rubble comprised of fractured wood, shattered panes of century-old stained glass and ripped-apart portions of tin roofing was all that remained of it. There was nothing left of the steeple nor of the bell formerly suspended within, which had jingled spiritual hymns on Sunday mornings. Whatever had happened to her family’s shed had done so here in analogous fashion.