The Darkest Path

by Jeff Hirsch

  “He’ll be the one in charge,” I said, keeping my eyes forward, not looking at Nat slumped in the passenger seat beside me. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

  “I just hope my dad is paying attention back there.”

  “Yeah. Me too.” I swallowed a lump in my throat and stepped out of the car slow, careful to keep my hands where the soldiers could see them. No one reacted, so I went around to the passenger side and pulled the handle. Nat rolled out of the seat, her hands cuffed in front of her. I took her arm roughly and pushed her out ahead of me as I approached the checkpoint.

  “Not a place you want to be right now, son,” the sergeant announced. “Got no quarrel with kids, but if you don’t want to get yourself shot, you better get in that car and drive back the way you came.”

  “You’re here because of a raid on an outpost on Route 84,” I said. “Five soldiers killed, two Humvees and a supply truck destroyed.”

  There was a brief pause. “You seem well informed,” the sergeant said.

  I shoved Nat onto her knees in the gravel.

  “This is the one who led the raid. Her mom was a Fed ranger. She got some of her buddies to help out.”

  “And who am I to thank for this out-of-the-blue bit of good fortune?” he asked, his tone as dry as dust.

  “Call sign’s Bloodhound,” I said. “I report to Captain Monroe, commander of Cormorant Base just outside Yuma, Arizona. I was detached about a month ago to infiltrate Fed territories. Ended up here on a fluke.”

  “You’ll forgive me if I find it a little hard to believe that someone who looks like they should be in day care is working special ops for Cormorant.”

  “Uh, yeah,” I said. “That’s kind of the idea, Sarge. Look, you want her or not?”

  The sergeant’s eyes flicked over to two of his subordinates.

  “Cuff them both; we’ll figure it out later.”

  “Wait!” I cried. “I told you, I’m with Cormorant special—”

  The closest soldier reached for Nat, just as she scooped up a handful of gravel and tossed it in his eyes. When his hands went up, Nat was on him, throwing her bound hands over his head and pulling him back. He gagged as his Adam’s apple was trapped beneath the cuff’s short metal chain. The second soldier moved forward with his weapon up, but Nat dropped low behind her captive, fouling his shot.

  “I will wring his neck right here!” she screamed as the man choked. “I swear, you people will not—”

  I jammed the taser into the small of her back and hit the trigger. There was the snap of electricity and Nat convulsed, making an awful retching sound as she hit the ground. I dropped to my knees and pulled her hands from around the soldier’s throat. The second soldier was completely frozen, staring down at me over his rifle.

  “Give me a hand!” I bellowed. “She got the brunt of it, but he’s out too. Let’s go!”

  We got Nat up and started dragging her back to the checkpoint.

  “Throw her in the back of Two,” the sergeant said, pointing us to a driverless Humvvee with a gunner standing up in the turret. “And you, the next time you end up with a prisoner, you cuff their hands behind their back, not in front. Now move it.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  We brought Nat to one of the Humvees and threw her into a heap at the turret gunner’s feet. When the soldier went to rejoin his team, I followed Nat inside and slammed the door.

  “Hey,” the gunner called. “What’s going on down—”

  I shoved the taser into this side. There was a flash of blue and he dropped into the rear of the Humvee, unconscious. I grabbed Nat and pulled her up.

  “You okay?”

  “Fine,” she said, groggy but shaking it off.

  It didn’t take them long to notice something was wrong. By the time I got to the driver’s seat, machine gun bursts lit up all around us, pinging off the Humvee’s armor. Nat kicked the gunner out of the Humvee and took his place. A second later the .50 cal was sweeping the area, sending the Path scattering. The thunder of the thing was unreal, punishing.

  “Cal!” Nat screamed between bursts. “To the right!”

  I looked out the side window. The other gunner was rotating our way. I fumbled at the Humvees’s controls before getting it into reverse and jamming my foot on the gas. We escaped a volley of fire but crashed into the gate behind us. Nat’s next shot sent the gunner ducking back into his rig. After that she shredded the other Humvee’s engine.

  I tried to get us moving forward, but there was a metallic grinding sound behind us. We were hung up on the steel fence. Sitting ducks. I gritted my teeth and stood on the gas, but the wheels just spun. Gunfire was erupting all around us now.

  Nat turned toward her father’s cruiser, sending a stream of fire into its back end until the car exploded with a lung-battering woomf. The Path soldiers fled from the column of flames. Black smoke fouled the air.

  “Helicopters are coming in!” Nat cried from behind me.

  I gave up trying to go forward and put the Humvee in reverse, crashing through the gate. Once we were through, I got us turned around and we sped toward the runway. We had given Nat’s dad a chance; all I could hope was that he’d made use of it. We had our own problems to deal with.

  Two Black Hawk helicopters had started their descent into the airport’s floodlights. Nat opened up with her gun, and the Black Hawks’ engines surged as their pilots aborted. Our reprieve wouldn’t last long, though. They’d find somewhere safer to land and offload their crew of Marines.

  The airfield came into view. It was small, just a control tower and two runways filled with a few helicopters and private planes.

  There was a blast behind us and I turned to see a fleet of civvy vehicles and police cruisers coming through the wreckage of the burning blockade. Mixed in with them was the last of the Path Humvees with a civilian up in the turret. The school bus was bringing up the rear. They made it. I pulled our Humvee to a stop at the edge of the runway. Seconds later, their vehicles were swarming around us.

  Nat’s dad jumped out of the lead car and ran toward us, Bear close at his heels. “Natalie!”

  Nat dropped down out of the turret just as he ran up. “Dad, wait! I had to—”

  Her father’s knees went weak as he threw his arms around her, nearly dragging them down. Nat stiffened at first but then fell into it, clasping her arms around his back and pressing her cheek into his chest.

  “I can’t believe you did that,” he said, his voice thick. “I can’t believe you just did that. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

  “So help me God, girl, you are getting in that helicopter this second and getting the hell out of here. You got me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Okay, both of you, go!” he said, running off to organize the teams that were prepping the aircraft. “I’ve got work to do.”

  Bear’s paws hit my calf and I grabbed him up into my arms. I didn’t realize until then how much I was shaking. I held him close, taking a second to breathe in the grassy smell of him.

  “Okay, pal,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  The three of us ran across the tarmac to a waiting helicopter that had CHANNEL 9 TRAFFIC TEAM emblazoned on the side. The pilot was doing his preflight as we piled into the rear seats, Bear dancing at our feet.

  “Never had a dog in here,” the pilot said. “Better get strapped in and hold on to him. Word is I’m taking off as soon as this bird is ready.”

  “What happened to the injured?” Nat called up to him. “The ones at the school?”

  “Don’t know,” the pilot said, shouting over the blades that had just begun to turn. “Plan was to load everyone that could be moved onto trucks and head east but it’s pretty chaotic down there. Now strap in and put on the headsets if you want to talk.”

  Nat put on the headset and drew her harness over her shoulders. When she was done, she stared out the side window, her hands in a tense fidge
t in her lap. I pulled my headset down and adjusted the mic in front of my mouth.

  “He’s okay,” I said. “They got Steve out and he’s going to be okay.”

  Nat said nothing. There was a roar of engines as the first plane took off, with three more queued up behind it. Across the tarmac, another helicopter took to the air. I prayed the Path would see them for what they were, civilian evacuees, and let them go.

  When the last plane took off, Nat’s father pulled in his perimeter force and stood on the tarmac, directing them to waiting choppers. Already I could see Black Hawks touching down at distant corners of the airport. Black-uniformed soldiers poured out of their sides and started toward us.

  “Okay!” our pilot called. “I think the welcome wagon is here. Time to go.”

  “What about my dad?”

  “It’s okay — he’s with Billy.”

  The pilot pointed to where a deputy was forcing Nat’s father into another chopper across from us. Their doors slammed and their blades started to turn.

  The helicopter’s engine revved and I felt us lift into the air. Bear whined and I pulled him underneath my harness. The other choppers made it off the ground, and soon we were all up over the dark tree line. For a disorienting moment I thought an early dawn was creeping over the horizon, but as we climbed higher, it became clear that it was the town of Waylon burning out of control.

  “Oh my God…” Nat breathed.

  The pilot flew us in an arc north of the town to avoid the windblown clouds of smoke from burning trees. Inside Waylon the streets were black seams, marking the boundaries between grids of burning buildings. Hundreds of vehicles were lined up on the roadways out of town, but they stopped dead a few miles out. The Path had already set up checkpoints. Right now those unlucky enough to be stopped were being taken from their cars and massed into orderly groups for the beacons. I looked for signs that the Fed Army had arrived but found nothing. The town had been left to die.

  Our trio of helicopters pulled away from Waylon, but the destruction didn’t stop. The sun came up, bloody and dim, through clouds of black smoke that rose from town after burning town. The Path may have come for Waylon, but they clearly weren’t stopping there. Nat stared down at the scene below, unblinking.

  The pilot’s voice came through the static of our headsets. “Nat?” he said, turning back to us. “Hold on, I’ve got your dad. Billy, go ahead.”

  One of the other helicopters rose beside us, a reddish dawn gleaming off its silver side. I could just make out Nat’s father through her window.

  “Are you two okay?” he asked over the radio.

  “We’re fine,” Nat shouted into the mic. “What happened to the hospital? Did they get away?”

  There was a pause and a burst of static.

  “Dad?”

  “Honey, we don’t know. We can’t seem to raise anyone down there.”

  “Have the Feds come?” I asked.

  “Word is there will be reinforcements, but no one knows when. Sounds like there are battles going on everywhere now.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “We think we can make it into South Dakota. We haven’t heard anything about—”

  His voice cut out and the line went from static to hurried voices all talking over each other.

  “Dad?”

  “—we have to turn, we—”

  There were heavy booms below us. Our helicopter shuddered and pitched left.

  “What’s going on?” I shouted up to the pilot, but he was too busy with his controls to respond. The helicopter next to us wavered, dropping out of sight before surging up again.

  “Dad!”

  A string of explosions thundered and then Nat’s father’s voice returned in our headsets.

  “Don’t worry — we’re just going to climb to get away from this,” he said. He pressed closer to his window, one hand on the glass. “This will all be over soon and then we’ll—”

  There was a roar behind us. “Up!” someone cried. “Up! Pull up!”

  Nat’s father turned to us, his wide face framed in sandy hair, his big hand pressed against the glass like he was reaching out to her.

  “Dad!”

  Nat threw herself against the glass as the helicopter next to us erupted in a wall of fire.

  18

  The shock wave sent our chopper reeling, until the pilot somehow righted us again. Warning sirens screamed through the cabin, and the air was thick with smoke streaming in through gashes in the windshield. The smooth turn of the rotors above now sounded labored, straining, then slacking, over and over.

  Nat was sitting limp in her chair, the shaking of the helicopter rocking her like a doll. I grabbed her chin and turned her to me. Her eyes were wide and there was a smear of blood on her forehead.

  “Are you hurt? Nat?”

  She tore away from me and drew her knees up to her chest, hugging them close and letting herself fall onto the side of the chopper. Bear was cowering on the floor beneath me but he looked unharmed, so I popped my harness and leaned forward into the cockpit.

  The pilot was wrestling with controls that jerked and shimmied in his hands. Dials were spinning wildly.

  “Can I help?” I screamed over the blare of the sirens, but it was like I wasn’t there. I pushed myself farther forward and saw that the dash directly in front of the pilot was covered in a dark slick of blood.

  Windows were smashed, and there was a long gash on his left side. Blood covered his hands and was pooling in his lap.

  The air shuddered with explosions all around us.

  “Strap in!” the pilot yelled.

  Once back in my seat, I dragged Bear up into my lap, pulling the harness over both of us and fastening it tight. He struggled and whined, but I just pressed harder. The ride grew wilder by the second as the pilot struggled to keep us in the air as long as he could, constantly pulling us up out of sudden plunges while the helicopter pitched from side to side. The world outside the window spun madly and the smoke inside the cabin grew thicker, choking me and burning my eyes. The warning sirens screamed on and on.

  I spared a look at Nat and she was terrifyingly still, huddled up like a child, not lifting her face from between her knees.

  “We’re going in!”

  The engines strained one last time and then a sea of green came at us from below. I grabbed Bear and held on as we went belly first into a stand of trees. Everything in the cabin pitched forward, loose bits hitting the windshield like bullets and smashing the glass. The belt around my waist cut into my middle and I screamed out in pain. Bear howled but I refused to let him go.

  The helicopter tumbled onto its side, momentum carrying it through the trees, their limbs slamming into the helicopter’s steel hide over and over, sending body-rattling booms through the space around us. Glass shattered and metal tore. Nat began to scream, long and high. The still-turning rotors snapped as they tried to cut through the assault of trees.

  When we finally came to rest, I lay over Bear’s body, panting, arms aching, but too terrified to move. He was still, but his heart thudded heavy against my thighs. There were a few metallic groans as the helicopter settled into place and then it was astonishingly quiet. Even the distant booms of the war were wiped away.

  Every muscle in my body burned as I sat up. Nat was breathing but unconscious. A gash dripped blood down one arm. The window next to me was shattered by a heavy bough. What remained of the window was splattered with blood. I let go of Bear and touched my cheek. My fingers came back stained bright red.

  I unhooked the belt around my waist and eased Bear over between me and Nat. He went to her, his small legs unsteady, sniffing at her neck and her torn arm. I grabbed the edge of the front seats and pulled myself forward into the cockpit.

  The pilot was unconscious, hands at his sides, slumped against the harness across his chest.

  “Hey,” I said, unnerved by the sound of my own voice breaking through the silence. I pushed at his shoulder. “We gotta
get out of here.”

  He didn’t move, so I dragged myself up farther into the passenger seat.

  “Hey.”

  I turned his head toward me and that’s when I saw a shard of glass as big as my hand buried more than an inch into his throat. Blood, thick and black, covered his chest. I don’t know how long I sat there staring at him. I didn’t seem to be able to move until Bear’s whine turned me around.

  His paws were up on the helicopter’s door, scrabbling to get out. I looked into the sky behind us, and even though it was clear now, we couldn’t afford to wait around. We had to move. Nat was still unconscious, so I reached over her to force her door open. Bear jumped out first, stumbling when he hit the ground but quickly righting himself. I followed, crawling over Nat, then leaning back in to undo her harness.

  She moaned. Her head, bloody from a spray of glass, lolled to one side. Her eyes opened, surveying the damage around her.

  “Can you move?”

  Nat looked at me but said nothing. Twin sonic booms split the silence above the tree line as two fighters streaked past. I dug one arm behind Nat’s back and the other beneath her knees. A knife of pain shot through my busted wrist, but I lifted her up and out of the helicopter anyway, easing her weight onto my chest.

  I got us away from the helicopter, then set Nat down at the base of a hill. The forest seemed to stretch out endlessly on all sides. Were we in Wyoming still? South Dakota? I squinted up into the sky, hoping to orient myself off the sun, but a blanket of gray clouds were in the way. Without knowing north from south or east from west, I could walk us right into the Path and not have any idea until it was too late.

  Nat stirred, drawing her knees up to her chest and hugging them close. She started to cry, her chest convulsing. I moved toward her but she shied away, hiding her face.

  Gravel tumbled down the side of the hill we were on. I looked up to see Bear nearly at the top. Maybe if I got up higher, I could get some idea of where we were.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said. Nat didn’t move.

  I dug my fingers into the trunk of a tree and pulled myself up. Once I made it to my feet, my body wavered like smoke in a breeze, so I held on and waited for it to pass. I moved from tree to tree, grasping branches to hold myself steady. Every injury, old and new, gnawed at me as I climbed. Eventually the shock of the pain faded, leaving just an endless and dark exhaustion. It was as if there was a hole in the center of me and I was slowly draining away. My head reeled, and bursts of lights seemed to dance with shadows in my field of vision.