Collapsing World_Stolen Treasure_Book 3

by G. Allen Mercer

  “Tasha,” David said, his voice weak.

  “I’m coming,” she responded, her face still inside the Bronco looking for the radio.

  “Tasha,” he repeated.

  She put her hand on the black radio that Birmingham Bob had given her the other day. With the device in hand, she also hooked her finger around the handle of the first aid kit and ran back to David.

  “Tasha.”

  “I’m here, Mr. David,” she skidded to a halt and knelt down. “What do I do?”

  David was in full on shock. His skin was pale, he was sweating and his breathing was becoming more and more rapid by the second.

  “Take him,” he said softly. “Take Jeff off of me, I can’t do it.”

  That statement made her heart thump an extra beat, and her mind to ask the question of why he couldn't do it.

  Tasha struggled with Father Jeff’s stiffening body. With considerable effort and the support of pure adrenaline, she was able to pull his body over to the picnic area. David tried to stand up, but something was wrong, Tasha raced over to him, and for the first time saw the gush of blood running down his leg.

  “You’ve been shot!”

  He nodded and leaned on her to take him to the picnic table. “I know,” he said through gritted teeth, the pain registering now that his own course of adrenaline was waning.

  “Lie down on top of the table,” she commanded, helping him stretch across the worn wood. “I need to look at it.” She hated the sight of blood and especially the sight of bloody body parts, but with what they had been through over the last few days, and now having witnessed the open chest wound on Father Jeff, she was building up a tolerance.

  David handed her his pocketknife and she carefully cut back the fabric of his jeans until she reached the wound on his outer right thigh. The sound of the helicopters still thumped in the background, and made her look up every so often

  “Well, what does it look like?”

  Tasha felt bile rise up in her throat at the sight of the carnage that was David’s leg. “Well, it looks like the bullet didn't stay in. You don’t think your leg is broken or anything?”

  “No, just shitloads of pain. What does it look like?” he asked again. He couldn’t see the wound on the back-right part of his thigh.

  “Ahh, there is, well, like a hole.”

  “A hole? Damn it, Tasha, tell me what it is.”

  “The back of your thigh is gone.”

  The sound of the helicopters suddenly fell away; replaced by explosions in the distance.

  CHAPTER 12

  To Penny, the trees seemed to move by her window in slow motion. She could hear the two soldiers talking to each other, their voices and strange dialect digitized through the speaker system connecting the front of the vehicle to the back. Their voices registered in her brain like the teacher voices heard in the Peanuts...wah wah wah wah wahhh.

  What happened? She asked herself. She didn't have an answer. The only thing she had was strategy. She had chess. She had played her moves and it had saved Harper from being taken. But Jack, Lucy remained. Dumbass! She cleared her throat at that thought.

  "What did you say?" Dick asked, not taking his eyes off of the undeveloped dirt path that they were driving along. He had already scrapped the Humvee against a dozen trees; proving that he was not a very good or confidant driver. A life of taking state provided public transportation left him ill prepared to control the two-ton beast on roads that were little more than wide paths.

  "I didn't say anything," Penny answered, she had avoided speaking, unless spoken to. She would be happy if the soldier managed to get them hopelessly lost in the middle Alabama backcountry. On two occasions, Dick had taken the wrong direction at a fork in the road. Penny had simply nodded to him when he looked at her for confirmation that he had made the right decision. She was lying, of course, not letting onto her small psychological chess moves.

  "What is your name?" Dick finally asked. His tone was not harsh, as it had been at the barn. He did not speak English using conjunctions, allowing the language to sound robotic and staggered.

  Penny thought about that question for a second. Should she lie? What was the good of lying? She didn't know the answers to those questions, or how it could advance her game. "Penny."

  "Ahh. Penny, like the money," Dick said, nodding like this was important news to have learned and store away.

  "I am Joseph Ling," he countered.

  Penny didn't acknowledge his revelation at first, her mind chewed on the new data, trying to find an angle. She liked Dick better, but would now have to give it up. "Ah, Joseph," she finally said. "Like the earthly father of Jesus," she surmised, seeming happy with the response. Her father had told her that most Chinese didn't believe in God, let alone the Son of God. She was happy, even if Dick/Joseph didn't see the irony.

  "Yes, like the man that was the husband of the Virgin Mary," Joseph said, shocking her. He looked at her with his eyes only, not letting his head turn. He could tell that she was surprised at his answer.

  Penny scrunched her forehead. How does he know about God? How does he know...?

  A smile spreading across Joseph’s face. "I know about your Bible," he said, seeming to read her mind. “I was a student at the University of South Carolina before," he waved his hand across the situation. "Before my country called us back for," he seemed to stumble with the words. "For, for, all of this."

  "Oh," she said, but it came out horse. "Oh," she corrected. She bit her tongue at saying what she really wanted to say. ‘You mean before your friggin’ country invaded mine!’

  "Campus Ministries," he continued. "They were the first organization to stop by my dorm room when I was a freshman. I changed my English name from Joe to Joseph when I first became a believer."

  That bit of information floored Penny. She shook her head. This man had just taken her and the others at gunpoint, and had tried to kill her and her father the day before. How could she hate...

  "Do you believe? Penny, are you are a believer, too?"

  WTF? Her brain screamed, and she choked back from spewing her thoughts. How in the world could this Chinese guy, who has just invaded my country, killed millions and tried to kill my family, ask if I am a believer in Jesus? Penny's hands closed in grips of anger and uncertainty. Her reaction was anything like her faith taught her to behave.

  "You know," Joseph said, comfortable with the interaction. But, he was interrupted by Weed, sitting in the back. They spoke in their native language for what seemed to be a harsh exchange of words. Joseph said the final words and then did not finish his English sentence to Penny. He instead gripped the wheel with both hands and kept his eyes forward.

  Penny smiled to herself, unknowingly, she knew that by the man opening up to her, she had just taken several pawns in this game of chess playing out in her head.

  “Where are you taking us?” Jack asked from the backseat. It was the first time he had spoken since they were taken an hour earlier.

  Penny turned her head briefly so that she could look back through the bulletproof glass. This was the first time she had been in the Presidential escape vehicle. Jack’s voice projected through the speakers in the front. She tried to catch his eye, but she would have had to turn completely around, and she didn’t want to move in that manner.

  “Well?” Jack sat up and banged his fist on the glass. Penny and Joseph both jumped at the sound thump on the glass.

  Weed pushed him harshly back into his seat. He said something in Mandarin, his tone threatening. Penny bit her tongue, wanting to react.

  “He warned you not to try something stupid,” Joseph said, translating from the front seat. His voice was harsh and commanding. He turned his head briefly to look at the boy.

  No one spoke for several minutes, until they emerged from the tree line and onto an open area under high-tension power lines. Joseph checked a personal compass on his watch and looked out of the windows to his left and right.

  Penny watched Jos
eph’s actions, she knew exactly where they were. When she was nine years old, she had taken her first buck about a mile from this spot. She kept her mouth shut, and let Joseph figure out his own problem. She tried to reach around to her back so she could key the radio, but Joseph kept turning his head towards her so he could peer out of her window. She put her fingers on the button of the radio, and pressed.

  “We need to go northwest,” Joseph finally said, his voice determined. “Which is that way.” He pointed to the open dirt road that followed beneath the power lines.

  “I think if we go that way, and stay under the power lines, then it’ll eventually takes us to Birmingham. Is that where we’re going?” Penny asked, but not before she had successfully keyed the radio. She knew very well that the dirt road followed the power lines towards Birmingham, but she and her father had only ever followed the route a few more miles, up towards a river. Once they passed the river, she wouldn’t know where they were.

  “Yes, that is the way to the city of Birmingham, and to our forces,” Joseph said, convincing himself. He turned the truck northwest and accelerated along the red dirt path.

  Penny released the transmit button.

  CHAPTER 13

  “Did you get that?” Clark asked.

  Dukes looked up from the radio, he had heard his daughter’s transmission thanks to her use of code phrases when she had come back in to get the keys and the radio. He looked at his wife, she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.

  “Show me the map where you think they are,” Clark said, leaning over the highway map spread on the kitchen table.

  Dukes took less than two seconds to find where he thought she was. He drew a circle around it with a pencil. “We can take my truck,” he offered.

  Clark didn’t answer at first; he looked up from the map at his new commanding officer.

  Colonel Horn checked his watch, knowing he was already late. “Look, I understand the sensitivity of this situation, but I need to get this prisoner back to base.” He knew this situation was going to happen, so his mind was made up before Clark had to ask. “Lieutenant, you have thirty-six hours to report in at the base in Carrollton. We’ll make a few passes over that area before turning north.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” Clark was quick to respond.

  “Sir,” it was Sergeant Shaw. Horn nodded for him to continue. “I’d like to request that I stay behind with the Lieutenant. My family is from Sylacauga, so, I’ve hunted in almost every county between here and B’ham. Sir.”

  Clark looked over at the NCO and nodded. “I could use the Sergeant’s experience, Sir.”

  “Three things,” Horn said in response. “One. Get those kids back alive. Two. Get that damn super truck back in our hands. And, three. Get your butts back to base in thirty-six hours. Understood?”

  Both men pulled to attention as they responded with a resounding, “Yes, Sir.”

  Horn extended his hand to Dukes. “I will see what I can do to get you a bird in the air. If we spot ‘em, we’ll let you know.” He nodded to June, with a, “Ma’am, we’ll do our best,” and exited the door.

  “I’m going to pull some extra gear out of the bird,” Shaw remarked and then followed Horn out the door.

  “We should grab some extra gear, too,” Dukes said, leading Clark back down to his stash of weapons and ready to go backpacks.

  Emma hesitated, looked briefly at June, and then decided to follow the men downstairs. Both Dukes and Clark were packing extra ammunition and odds and ends into two large black backpacks. “I’m coming, too,” she offered, surprising both men.

  Dukes didn’t say anything; he kept packing his bag, knowing that this was between Clark and Emma. In his mind, time was ticking, and he wanted to get to his daughter.

  “You can’t,” Clark said, putting his head back down to complete his task. “This is going to be dangerous.”

  “And escaping Atlanta after an atomic bomb denoted above our heads, or being shot at by those damn helicopters wasn’t!” She took a breath, and lowered her voice. “They are my responsibility, Clark.”

  “No! Every minute that we debate this, they’re getting farther and farther away. No, I can’t lose…just no.”

  “I’m going to the truck,” Dukes said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “We leave in 60 seconds,” he said, patting one of the smaller preloaded backpacks still hanging on a peg. He winked at Emma, and walked out of the room.

  Emma grabbed the bag, the weight in it shifted and she caught it before it hit the floor. “I’m coming, Clark!”

  Clark finished stuffing his bag, looked at her, and then shook his head. He was wasting precious time. “Fine, but don't drop that bag again, if I know Dukes, it probably has a loaded pistol of some sort in there.” He took the bag from her and looked inside. “Here, put this on your hip.” He checked the chamber and the clip of the small 9mm pistol, making sure that it was loaded. He handed her the holstered weapon, showing her that the safety was on.

  “What about extra ammo?”

  “Here,” he handed her two extra boxes.

  “Do we need food?”

  “It’s already in there. He pre-packed these bags so they could bug out and survive.”

  “Really? It’s got to be bad to want to bug out of this place,” she said, taking the bag. She could tell that he was in no mood for anything other than getting mission ready.

  “We need to get going before the trail gets cold,” he said moving to walk past her. She grabbed his arm. For a fraction of a second he thought about yanking his arm out of her grip, but instead relaxed, accepting that she was coming too.

  “Thank you,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. He nodded.

  Sixty seconds later, Dukes pulled a dark green 1980’s vintage Toyota Land Cruiser out of a shed next to the house. The precursor to the modern SUV, the truck had a lift kit, aggressive tires, and a full roof basket and engine intake snorkel. The vehicle looked more like it was ready for a safari than for life in suburbia. There were several bullet holes along the left side, serving as evidence of the battle that had taken place the day before.

  Clark put his hand on Ed's shoulder; the man had a bag ready and a rifle slung over his shoulder. He was leaning pretty hard on one leg, and had a dozen cuts around the back of his neck and up his arm and side.

  "You want to come on this one, don't you?" Clark asked, his voice loud enough only for Ed to hear.

  Ed looked into the younger man's eyes and nodded. He wasn't about to admit that he was in no shape to fight, let alone travel and fight.

  "This won't be our last fight," Clark said, his eyes drifting over to Emma; she gazed back, her look knowing.

  "Those kids,” Ed’s voice warbled. “You, Emma and those kids are all that I have now," he said, clearing the emotion from his throat.

  Clark nodded and looked down at his boots. He hated to order the man, but understood his desire, his emotion and his willingness to fight. "I need someone here that I can count on. If something happens to us, you will be all that Jack and Lucy have left."

  Ed let that sink before nodding that he understood. "Just call, and I'll be there to back you up," he begrudgingly relented. “Remember, I told you that I’d know when it’s the time for me to step back, well, just so you know, this isn’t it.”

  "Understood," Clark said, squeezing the other man's shoulder before stepping off the porch.

  Everyone tossed their gear into the rear of the Toyota; Clark took the passenger seat, and Emma and Sergeant Shaw climbed into the back seat.

  June stepped off of the porch and leaned in through the driver's window.

  “Go get our baby,” she said through tears, kissing him like it might be the last time. “Be careful, I love you.”

  “I’ll get her. I love you, too,” he said, putting the truck in gear.

  “We’ll stay here with June, until you get back,” Cooper said from the front porch.

  “We’ll take care of 'em,” Ed echoed the assurance.


  Emma looked out of the window at the family on the front porch. With the dog sitting beside them, it might have made for a nice family picture, that is, except for the sadness in everyone’s eyes.

  Dukes nodded at his friend in a way that only fathers and husbands seem to understand. He released the clutch, with one more glance at his wife, and drove the vehicle towards the dirt trail behind the barn.

  Emma turned to look through the rear hatch window. It was a scene of a distraught mother, a humbled old man, and a shocked family. They disappeared once the truck rounded a small curve and headed towards the field. She wondered if she would ever see them again.

  “How far away is this?” Clark asked, looking at the folded map. He was on pure mission mode. “It looks about twelve or fifteen miles.”

  “I’d agree, about fifteen miles. It’s the first time that one of the roads from back here crosses under the power lines,” Dukes answered with the knowledge of hunting these woods for decades.

  “Fifteen miles? How could they get so far so quickly?” Emma asked from the back. She wasn’t comfortable sitting on the small bench seat with Shaw. The vehicle, and especially the comfort of the seat, was anything but luxurious; especially compared to the Presidential escape vehicle. What bothered her most was the pistol digging into her side. But, she had already told herself that she would not complain, especially after the standoff she had with Clark. She reminded herself that what she really needed to do was to stay focused on finding the kids, and not get killed in the process. She shifted one more time, letting the holster slide between the creases in the seat. That was better.

  “Well,” Dukes reasoned. “I figure they got about an hour’s head start,” Dukes said, almost wishing he had taken off after his daughter immediately. But, it was the coded message that Penny told her mother before leaving that kept him glued to the radio. Somewhere in his prepper thought process, he had worked out a radio channel and code phrase with Penny if anything crazy happened. Apparently 'crazy' had happened, and Penny had the presence of mind to remember to use what she had learned. Now, it was time to catch up. He wanted to personally deliver his response to the son-of-bitch that had taken his daughter.