“What did you say?” asked the General.
“I said you’ll be sorry when my mom comes to find me.”
Under his blindfold, he could see muddy boots in front of his wheelchair. They stepped closer.
“After that, kid.”
“I said my mom knows the president—”
“President of what?”
“The United States of America,” Ty said proudly. “She’s a United States Senator and she—”
The blindfold was stripped off Ty’s face. He blinked at the bright lights hanging from cords overhead. It took him a moment for his eyes to adjust, but he quickly realized he was somewhere underground in what kind of looked like a cave. The walls and ceiling were rough rock, but the floor was concrete. Crates of supplies and large orange barrels were stacked against the walls.
The General was crouched in front of his wheelchair. He was still wearing the space suit, but Ty could see his blue eyes behind the visor. The squiggly scar on his forehead caught Ty’s attention.
The man pointed at it. “You like my scar? This is what happens when you get captured in enemy territory. You should have seen what I did to the monsters that did this to me. Sometimes you have to become the fiercer monster to survive, kid.”
Two overweight men with long beards chuckled behind the General. They held large rifles and wore black baseball caps with snake symbols. Every inch of exposed skin below their necks seemed to be covered in tattoos.
The General held up a hand for silence. “My name is Dan Fenix. General Dan Fenix, but you can call me Fenix.” He paused a moment, licked his lips, and leaned closer. “What’s your name, son?”
“You don’t scare me, mister. None of you do,” Ty said.
“Kid, I couldn’t care less if I scare you or not. I told you and your friends that we came to help you at the camp, remember? If it weren’t for us, you’d be dead.”
“Then why are my hands tied, and why did you shoot Mr. Barton and Mr. Gonzalez? They didn’t do anything to you.”
“They got in my way,” Fenix replied. He let out a short sigh like he was getting frustrated. “And we tied your hands because...”
He looked back at his men and raised his voice. “Why did you guys tie this poor boy’s hands? Carson, did you do it?”
Carson nodded. Ty saw his tormentor clearly for the first time. He had a shaved head and greasy black eyebrows. A big, ugly eagle holding a flag was tattooed on his neck.
“Well untie him, damn it,” Fenix snapped. He crab-walked closer to Ty and put his gloved hands on the armrests of the chair. For the first time since the gunshots on the road, Ty felt a paralyzing fear grab him. There was something wrong with this man. It wasn’t just that strangers weren’t supposed to touch his chair. His eyes were so cold and flat. His words sounded nice, but his eyes gave him away.
Ty remained silent, terrified that if he did talk, he would stutter. His mom always taught him to never show his fear.
Fenix stood and clasped his hands behind his back. “Fine, you don’t want to talk to me? I guess I’ll just have to ask one of your little friends. I might even have to hurt them. Is that what you want?”
“My name is Ty.”
“Ty what?” Fenix turned halfway with one ear in his direction.
“Montgomery.”
Fenix’s cold eyes lit up as he turned back to Ty. “You’re Senator Charlize Montgomery’s son?”
Ty nodded proudly, although something felt wrong about doing so. Maybe he shouldn’t have told Fenix his mom’s name. Maybe... but no. His mom would come find him, and she would make these men pay for what they had done to Mr. Barton and Mr. Gonzalez.
Fenix clapped his hands. “Hot damn. See? I told you guys this plan was golden. We got ourselves a real valuable hostage. We’re going to be able to buy enough ammunition to take over Colorado and purge it of the filth. Nobody is going to be able to rise up against us.”
Everyone in the tunnel, even the other kids, stared at Ty like he was some sort of celebrity. His stomach ached, and he reached down to grip his belly. He gagged, and swallowed the acid boiling up his throat.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Ty mumbled.
The words wiped the smile off Fenix’s face. He snapped his fingers at Tommy and Carson. “Get this kid showered off and take him straight to Doc Rollins. Anything the old man needs, tell him it’s authorized.”
Fenix leaned down in front of Ty and gave him what appeared to be a genuine smile. “We can’t let anything happen to little Mr. Ty Montgomery.”
“THEY TOOK HIM, Nathan. They took Ty.”
The words crackled out of the speakers of the analog radio. Nathan’s heart hammered his rib cage. For a moment he didn’t respond. He couldn’t.
He was sitting at a picnic table in Bond Park outside of town hall, trying to make sense of what his sister had just said. The gunfire to the west had ceased, but none of the police officers had returned. There was no one here to see him if he broke down, but he had to hold it together for Charlize and Ty.
“Nathan, are you there?” his sister asked.
He brought the receiver to his lips. “Yes, I’m here. I’m sorry, there’s a situation here in Estes Park.”
Charlize continued like she hadn’t heard him. “Some soldiers took Ty and the other kids from the camp.”
“But he’s alive?”
“I’m...I’m not sure. Oh God, how is any of this happening?”
“Charlize, I know this is hard, but you have to calm down,” Nathan said. “Start over and tell me exactly what happened.”
There was a short pause and what sounded like Charlize taking a few deep breaths on the other end of the line.
“The Marines I had deployed to the camp found a boy named Alex. He said soldiers shot two of the counselors and took several of the children.”
Nathan nodded, recalling the boy’s name from Ty’s enthusiastic tales of his time at the camp. He kept the receiver out, holding back his questions. Right now, he needed to listen.
“He said he saw the soldiers load Ty into a pickup truck and take him away.”
“Where?” Nathan asked, unable to hold his questions any longer.
“I...I don’t know. Lieutenant Dupree is combing the area from a Black Hawk, but they don’t have much fuel left, and they have to take Alex to a hospital. They aren’t going to be able to come get you right now, either.”
There was commotion on the other line, a humming of some sort and then the unmistakable sound of helicopter rotors.
“Are you going somewhere?” Nathan asked.
“I’m being evacuated. The North Koreans still have subs in the water.”
Nathan cursed. “I’ll go find him, Charlize. You just get somewhere safe.”
“No,” she replied without hesitation. “The roads are dangerous. The briefings I’ve gotten…it’s chaos out there, Nate.”
“Which is all the more reason I should be out there looking for Ty. Especially if Dupree has to return to base.”
A male voice sounded in the background. “We have to move, Madame Secretary. We can’t delay any longer.”
“Hold on, Albert,” Charlize said. Wind crackled over the channel, followed by the chop of a helicopter taking off.
“All due respect, Sis, but I’m going out there.”
A hard pause passed over the channel. Nathan wasn’t sure if it was because she was considering his request or because she had run out of time.
Static came over the channel, followed by his sister’s voice. “Do you still have access to a CBRN suit and a working vehicle?”
“I’m sure I can get both,” Nathan said.
“What time is it there?”
“Five or so in the afternoon.”
“It’s too late to leave today,” Charlize said. “Give Dupree one more shot at this. If he doesn’t find Ty by morning, you have my authorization to search for him yourself.”
Nathan thought about it for a moment. He was only
eighty-six miles away from the Easterseals camp. He didn’t like waiting any longer, but the roads would be worse at night. He looked over his shoulder at town hall as the doors creaked open. Margaret, the police dispatcher, stepped outside. She seemed to be crying.
Charlize’s voice pulled him back to the radio.
“Is there someone who can go with you tomorrow?” she asked.
“I’ll be fine on my own.”
There was another short pause.
“Keep that radio with you. I’ll call you with an update as soon as I can. I love you, Nathan.”
“I love you, too. Everything’s going to be okay, I promise. Now go get on that bird and fly somewhere safe.”
Nathan lowered the receiver and shut off the radio to save the juice. After packing it up, he limped across the grass toward the station. First thing he had to do was get the CBRN suit, a rifle, and then a vehicle.
Margaret pulled her hands from her face and looked up at him.
“You okay?” he asked.
“No, I’m not. Officer Rick Nelson just passed away.”
Nathan looked at his boots, then back to Margaret. “I’m really sorry to hear that, ma’am.”
“He won’t be the last,” she said gravely. “Things are getting worse by the minute. Chief Colton’s out there looking for Raven and Detective Plymouth right now. There’s been some sort of a shootout. I can’t get my head around all this violence. We’ve lived in peace for so long.”
Nathan tried to think of something else to say, but couldn’t find the words to comfort her. He looked to the west. The Estes Park police department and Raven were on their own this time. Nathan had his own mission to prepare for.
As soon as Colton got back, Nathan was going to do what he should have done all along. He was going to head south. Not in the morning, not in six hours. As soon as he had a vehicle and a weapon, he was heading out there to find Ty.
Raven worked his way through the trees, steady but fast, following the trail—a crushed sapling here, a few drops of blood on the ground there. His best friend trotted to the east, sniffing the ground. Creek was in his element, following the scent of the bastards that had tried to steal the pickup truck and kidnapped Lindsey. They weren’t far ahead, but they were armed with a shotgun and Lindsey’s pistol.
After firing an arrow into the Chevy’s back tire, two men and a woman had bailed and opened fire on Raven. He was only able to get off a few shots before they had fled into the woods with Lindsey. A shotgun blast had almost taken off Raven’s head, ponytail and all.
He kept low and raked the barrel of his Glock over the terrain as he pursued his chases. His view had transformed into a two-dimensional grid. Scanning it systematically, he looked for the bright blue of the Old Navy sweatshirt that the man with the shotgun was wearing.
Snapping and crunching branches sounded ahead, followed by a raised voice.
“Keep moving, bitch!”
Raven moved around a tree and crouched next to a boulder covered in orange moss. There, to the southeast, he finally spotted Lindsey’s uniform through the gap in the trees. He bolted for another rock.
A thin man with a red poncho had a gun pointed at Lindsey’s back—her gun, Raven realized. The cuffs around her wrists were hers as well. How these idiots had gotten the drop on her was going to be a matter of discussion over a cup of coffee at some point, but first he had to get her out of this mess.
The second chase, a frail woman with wild red hair and a red flannel shirt to match, followed the group through the woods. She was gripping her shoulder where Raven had clipped her with a round back on the road.
“Look at me again and I’ll shoot you!” the man with the poncho said to Lindsey.
She glared at him and tried to speak, but there was something jammed in her mouth. A sock or glove, maybe. The guy with the shotgun was leading the group. He stopped at the bottom of the slope and looked in Raven’s direction.
Raven ducked back down. His plan was to take that guy out with his bow, but now that they had Lindsey’s weapon, he was going to need to get closer and bring them down swiftly. He would need Creek’s help.
With a flash of his hand, Raven ordered Creek to flank the group. Then he took off running for the cover of a massive ponderosa. The kidnappers were moving down a ridgeline that led toward the town. Raven knew this area well. He had guided an illegal hunting party here. The rich idiots had paid extra for the night vision goggles and suppressed rifles. The night hunt was supposed to end with a trophy bull elk. Instead, they had gone home empty handed. Raven had a bad feeling this hunt wouldn’t end the same way.
Someone was going to die. He just had to make sure it wasn’t him, Creek, or Lindsey.
Keeping low, he ran for the crest of the hill that overlooked Estes Park. His body ached and the slash to his chest burned, but the adrenaline made him forget the pain.
He ducked under a branch and crouch-walked over to the side of a tree to look out over the lush valley below. Smoke swirled from chimneys into the sky. His chases were getting closer to town. A shootout in the forest was one thing, but in a residential area it could result in innocent casualties.
Raven hugged the ground as he scanned the woods down the slope. He could hear two voices and more snapping twigs somewhere to the southeast.
He slung his bow over his back and pulled out his Glock. Then he slipped around another tree and moved his finger from the outside of the trigger guard. Creek was somewhere out there and moving into position.
The woman in the flannel shirt and the man in the red poncho emerged in the dense trees below. Lindsey was walking between the two, but where the hell was the guy with the Old Navy sweatshirt?
Raven swung his Glock toward a flash of motion to the southeast. He ducked just as the boom of the shotgun sounded. The blast slammed into the tree behind him, and splintering wood rained down onto his head. It was the second time he had almost lost his brains in the past hour. He wouldn’t get so lucky a third time.
He dropped to his stomach and squeezed off two shots at the center of the Old Navy logo. Both rounds went wide, punching into the bark of an aspen tree to the man’s right.
Another shot kicked up dirt to Raven’s left. He rolled away and pulled the trigger as soon as he had the sights lined up. This time the round hit the man’s shotgun. He stumbled backward, crazed eyes looking down at his weapon. The shock quickly passed and he brought it back up to fire.
Gunfire cracked to the southwest—not handguns, but rifles. The shots distracted the man long enough for Creek to attack. A ball of fur slammed into his side and knocked him to the ground. The bastard screamed and jerked his arm as Creek tore at his sleeve.
“Good boy,” Raven said with a grin. He pushed himself up and looked to the southwest, where Colton and Don were moving in with their AR-15s shouldered.
The man in the red poncho got off a single shot with Lindsey’s pistol before a volley of 5.56mm rounds tore through his chest. He slammed into a tree and slid down the trunk, blood streaking down the bark in a sheet.
The woman screeched in a primal voice and took off running for Colton. Lindsey stuck out her foot and tripped her. She landed on the ground face first, her flannel shirt a mess of mud and pine needles.
Don strode forward with his rifle aimed at her head.
“Stay down!” he shouted.
Colton went to check the man in the red poncho. He had slumped to the dirt, unmoving. Colton kicked the gun away and then walked back over to Lindsey and un-cuffed her. The detective rubbed her chafed wrists, scowling at the woman on the ground.
“You’re lucky they showed up!” Lindsey shouted, kicking at the dirt. “I would have killed you.”
“Detective Plymouth, go pick up your weapon,” Colton ordered. She hesitated and Colton arched his brows. That got Lindsey moving. She walked away from the woman, who was now crying while Don cuffed her.
Satisfied that they had the situation under control, Raven jogged ove
r to Creek and the third kidnapper. The Akita stood over him, snarling, with a chunk of the man’s shirt in his maw.
“Call him off,” the man begged. “Please!”
Raven grabbed the shotgun off the ground and waited a few more satisfying seconds before ordering Creek to stop. By the time the dog obeyed, Don had the woman cuffed and Colton was running over toward Raven with Lindsey.
“You okay, Raven?” Colton asked.
Lindsey grunted. “So much for having my back.”
“What?” Raven said. “I just saved your ass. I mean, these guys helped, but it was mostly me.”
“Cut the shit. Both of you. All that matters is everyone’s okay and that we got these sons of bitches,” Colton said. “Detective, you’re lucky to be alive at all.”
“I know,” she said quietly. “They were using me as a hostage, but I have no doubt they would have killed me if you guys hadn’t shown up.”
Creek let out a low whine and brushed up against Raven. He reached down and the dog proudly presented him with the ripped cloth from the man’s sweatshirt.
“It’s okay, boy, you did good. You did really good.”
The soft fur of his best friend usually helped calm Raven’s nerves, but his pulse continued to throb across his scratched, bruised body.
“Thanks, Raven,” Lindsey said like she actually meant it. She bent down to pet Creek. “And thanks to you, too, handsome boy.”
Raven had to chuckle. Even his dog had better luck with the ladies than he did.
Colton opened the back door of the Jeep outside the rear entrance to the police station.
“Get out,” he snarled.
Milo Todd and his sister, Cindy, scooted across the seat and out onto the pavement with their hands cuffed behind their backs. Colton could smell their body odor from where he stood. They were both filthy, and Cindy was bleeding from her shoulder.
“I need a doctor,” she said.
Lindsey laughed. “Get in line. There are plenty of people in need of medical attention right now that haven’t killed police officers.”
Don parked Jake’s pickup truck in the stall to the right of the Jeep, giving Colton a view of the corpse in the back. Eric Thornton, a friend of Milo and Cindy, lay in the back of the truck. The man’s red poncho was soaked with blood from the bullet wounds that had ended his life.
Trackers 2: The Hunted (A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Thriller) Page 8
