“This is a hiking town,” Jeremy said. “All this bad stuff happening—the power going out, the fuel shortage—just happened to coincide with a festival the town has every year. It’s a little appreciation thing they do for the hikers spending money in the local economy. There’s all kinds of free stuff, and it’s also a way for hikers to get to know each other and have a rest break. By the time they get here, the hikers are already several hundred miles into the Appalachian Trail.”
“That’s what you all are doing here?” Tom asked.
“Yes,” Mike said.
The second man nodded in agreement. “We came for the festival and got stuck.”
“How many hikers show up for this festival?”
Jeremy shrugged. “Hundreds? Thousands, maybe?” Mike nodded. “Yeah, probably thousands.”
“So you outnumbered the townspeople?” Tom asked, a picture beginning to form in his head. He could see a town outnumbered by an occupying force. He could see the nervousness, the unrest. He could imagine that being the recipe for a confrontation or even a disaster.
“The festival never happened,” Jeremy said.
“All the hikers were already here for the most part,” Mike said. “But the power went off before the festival could even get started.”
“A lot of the festival vendors still had gas,” Jeremy said. “So they all left. The rest of us were afraid to leave. We didn’t know what was going on and none of us wanted to go out there on the trail where you couldn’t get any information.”
“What was the town’s response?” Tom asked.
“Most of us only had enough food to get here,” Mike said. “Everyone comes into town to resupply. There were a couple of days where there was plenty of food to go around. The restaurants were trying to use up their refrigerated and frozen food so everyone was eating well. It was like a big free party. Then the locals began to get a little concerned because the grocery store started running low.”
“What happened then?” Tom asked.
“They asked us to leave,” Mike said.
“Who did?”
“The sheriff. He had some other people with him. A couple of guys with guns.”
“Let me guess, you overpowered them?”
Jeremy nodded. “We had to. What else were we supposed to do?”
Tom had no answer.
“He walked into a big mob of people and started yelling. He was barking orders and waving his gun around and kind of being a dick,” Mike said.
“How did it go down?”
“Someone threw a rock. It hit the sheriff and he fired in that direction. A few people fell and it drove the mob into a frenzy. Before most of us even knew what was happening, the sheriff and those men were on the ground being beaten. Their guns got taken. Then there was a gunshot and somebody, I don’t know who, killed the sheriff.”
“What about the other men who were with him?”
“We weren’t sure what to do at first. If we let them go home, they might come back with more men and more guns and we wouldn’t have a chance.”
“You killed them?”
“No,” Jeremy said. “We took the sheriff’s keys and we took over his office. We took the guns, the emergency supplies, and we hit every business in town using those guns to get what we wanted. We turned on the town before the town could turn on us.”
Chapter Ten
Damascus, VA
After she’d heard no sound for a long time Grace slipped from her hiding place and cast a wary eye to the trail. She saw no one, no movement, no indication anyone was lurking around. She slipped back into her hide, knowing there was no way she could make any progress without consolidating her gear into a load she could manage.
She unzipped the large duffel and pulled her Go Bag from it. The remaining items in the duffel were some fresh clothes that her dad had brought her, some spare ammo, and some spare magazines. She was tempted to lighten the load in her Go Bag by dumping out a few items but that was strictly against the rules. Her dad had trained her to never do that. She always wanted her Go Bag to be ready. That was the rule. She might be close enough to home that she could probably get there today, but what if things didn’t go as planned? She could be stuck somewhere for the night and the things in the Go Bag would help her survive.
She took as many of the spare loaded mags for her weapons as she could and found space for them in her Go Bag. She would have to leave Tom’s gear, his AK pistols, and all of his spare ammo behind. She just couldn’t carry it all.
She dug into her Go Bag and removed a contractor-grade garbage bag. Her dad had impressed upon her the importance of carrying these long ago. They weighed very little and could be slit open for an emergency shelter or be worn as a raincoat. In this case, they could also help assure that the cache of weapons and supplies she was going to leave behind would remain dry.
A nearby poplar had turned over in the wind, the roots of the tree pulling up and taking a large chunk of earth with it. The divot of earth where the roots had been was at least six feet across and about two feet deep. It would make a perfect place to stash the gear. She slid Tom’s duffel into the garbage bag and placed her own in there with it. Knotting the top, she found a broken limb about four feet long and used it to rake loose dirt and leaves over the bag. Soon it was completely hidden.
Grace removed a bottle of water from a side pouch on her Go Bag and took a drink. Knowing she might not stop for a drink again soon, she forced herself to slow down and take another. She replaced the bottle in its pouch and shouldered the bag. She slung the AR pistol’s single-point sling around her neck and her right arm, but held the weapon across her chest, at the ready. She couldn’t run with it bouncing around in front of her.
Finally squared away, she took off at a jog. After negotiating this path with the two large duffels of gear, she practically felt weightless now. With her physical conditioning she could do this all day.
Grace tore her way back up the trail, returning to the parking lot. This trail would not take her in the direction she needed to go so she needed to get off it and change directions. She cautiously worked her way toward the football field, making sure no one was waiting on her. Seeing Tom gone from the field hit her like a punch in the gut. This was where she’d been forced to leave him. At the same time, it was better than finding him lying there dead.
His absence only turned up the heat on her resolve. She had to help him. If the people who had taken him were part of the same large group that was camped out in the park in the middle of town, she had no idea how she’d save him. There were too many of them. She was only one girl. Yet admittedly, she was one highly-trained and relatively dangerous girl. She knew how to shoot, how to fight, and how to survive.
She skirted the perimeter of the football field property, staying close to the weeds behind the bleachers where some concealment was offered. When she reached the edge of the sports field the property opened up into a huge meadow that ran all the way to the highway.
She was close to the road but she did not want to travel on it. There was, however, an old railroad bed that ran parallel to the road and had been converted into a bicycle trail. That would take her in the direction she needed to go. As an outdoor and hiking destination, the town had dozens of trails extending out from it. Some were spur trails that accessed the Appalachian Trail. Others were part of the Virginia Creeper Trail, the Daniel Boone Heritage Trail, or the Virginia Birding and Wildlife Trail.
She understood that she could easily run into a trap on the bike trail. She was fully aware that there could be people on ATVs or jeeps traveling the trail. If she ran headlong into them, she might not have time to hide. There could be people on bicycles. There could even be people waiting for someone just like her to come running along that they could rob.
Still, she had to make time and cover distance if she was going to accomplish anything. Seeing no movement anywhere she felt safe enough to crouch low and run hard across the open meadow, a distance of perhaps tw
o hundred yards. At the far side, she dropped down in high weeds. She spun around, her weapon raised, scanning where she’d come from for any sign of pursuit or movement. There was nothing. One hurdle down. Thousands left to go.
She took a moment to let her breathing and heart rate steady from the sprint, then she was off again. Parallel to the road, she worked her way through tall weeds into the forest, using the trees to maintain a visual barrier between herself and the road, something that would give her that extra moment to react if someone came along. If she could do this for another mile or so she would come across the bike trail and then she could make up for lost time.
When she reached the bike trail Grace accelerated. She covered the two miles into town without so much as a break. She couldn’t stop her mind from wandering through the fact that she’d been on this bike trail hundreds of times. Then her mind wandered to the recollection that she met her friend Zoe—her late friend Zoe—on this same trail. Her mind went to a dark place and she had to pull it back. She couldn’t let herself go there right now. There was work to do.
As she neared town, the distance between the highway and the trail varied. Sometimes she would be exposed and in the open. Other times, the trail wandered a little further away from the road and dense vegetation concealed her from the road. When she hit those concealed sections, she ran harder, less concerned about drawing attention. When she came upon the more exposed sections, she slowed and made sure the coast was clear before venturing out of the woods.
Coming upon one of the last exposed sections before town, she slowed again. Sure enough, she caught movement and ducked into the vegetation to determine her course of action. When she got a clearer look she at the road she realized it was Tom and two armed escorts. Her heart raced.
She threw her AR pistol up to her shoulder, firing up the optic. The red dot sight provided no magnification, only a variable-sized red dot that represented the bullet’s point of impact. She lay the dot between the shoulder blades of one of Tom’s captors. She could hit him at this distance. She hit targets and steel plates at this distance with this very weapon on a regular basis. She slipped the safety to the FIRE position.
It would be exactly like a shooting drill she’d run with her dad on multiple targets—hit one, engage the second target, and drop him too. She paused. Her trigger finger was extended beyond the trigger guard but she curled it inward, resting it on the curved steel trigger. She could feel its smoothness beneath her finger, knew that only the application of heavier pressure was required to make the shot. Everything in her wanted to pull the trigger. Everything in her wanted to put these men down and get her friend back.
What would happen after she pulled the trigger?
Her dad had always told her she had to think several steps ahead. It would take nothing to kill these men, but what would happen next? She would have to make sure they were out of the fight and then she would have to get to Tom.
Then what?
They would have to get away. Could they get away?
The experience on the football field earlier replayed in her head. This close to town, to the crowded park, people would come running, and some of those people would have guns. She and Tom would not have time to make an escape. They would not even have time to find a place to hide. By the time she got to Tom’s side, a crowd would be on them and he could not outrun them. There was no guarantee she’d be able to outrun them, either. Running was not a viable escape plan in this instance.
She removed her finger from the trigger and made the weapon safe. She sagged and tears welled in her eyes. She let the weapon settle back to her chest. Having to leave Tom to his captors once had been bad enough, but having to do so a second time was devastating.
She made the decision then that, since she had eyes on Tom, she’d follow the men and see where they took him. She wasn’t about to go walking into the camp, but if she could watch from a safe position she might gather intelligence that would help her recover him later. She pulled the monocular out of her pocket, settled into a more comfortable position, and watched.
People were everywhere. She had never seen her small town with this many people except during the Hiker Days festival. Because she’d planned on staying in Oxford that summer with her friend Zoe she’d kind of forgotten about the festival. She and her family had attended for as long as she could remember. She recalled that Hiker Days took place around this time every year. It would certainly explain why all the people were here. Had they come for the festival and then gotten stuck just like the people she’d encountered along the interstate, huddled in overpasses and trying to survive?
Chapter Eleven
Arthur Bridges’ Compound
Robert, Arthur, and Kevin Cole were having lunch on the porch of Arthur’s home when a chirping sound erupted. The men looked at each other curiously then Kevin realized it was coming from the cargo pocket on his pants. He fished a satellite phone out of his pocket and checked the display.
“It’s Chuck.”
Robert exchanged a look with Arthur. He couldn’t help but feel panic, an unreasonable rush of fear that something was wrong. It was the reaction of a parent concerned about his child.
Arthur held his hands up. “Don’t worry yet, Dad,” he said. “Remember that girl got herself here to my place. She’s incredibly capable. You raised her right.”
“Trying not to worry is easier said than done,” Robert said. “It’s an involuntary reaction.”
Robert tried not to eavesdrop but at the same time he was concerned about the conversation taking place. He had worried about sending Grace on ahead but she had been insistent about getting herself home to her mother. She had earned the right to make a few of her own decisions. He understood that and wanted to give her that freedom. Still, if it had been a bad call, if something happened to her, he couldn’t ever forgive himself.
“Thanks for the heads-up,” Kevin said into the phone. “We appreciate it. I’ll talk to you again soon.” He clicked off his phone and shoved it back in his pocket.
“Everything okay?” Robert asked.
“Chuck just wanted to report back. He said the situation in the town was a little hinky. There was a mass of people camped out in a park in the center of town.”
Robert slapped his head in frustration. “I forgot about that. I didn’t come through town on my way down here so I didn’t realize those hikers were still there. They’ve been rolling into town for about two weeks now for this annual local festival. I guess some of them are stuck there now. They’re a pretty harmless bunch though.”
“Chuck said they took fire,” Kevin said, his expression serious.
Robert looked shocked. “He has to be mistaken. There’s a lot of hunters in the town. It must have been one of them.”
“He said there were armed men visible in the camp,” Kevin told him. “They saw the flashes before they pulled off. He said he left your daughter and Tom in the high school football field and they were safe when he left. He just wanted to make you aware of the situation.”
Robert sat back in his chair and let the news sink in. He abruptly stood and looked at Arthur. “I appreciate your hospitality but this changes things. I can’t sit here while my daughter is back in the shit again. This doesn’t feel right.”
Arthur nodded. “I understand. I would probably do the same thing.”
“Thank you again.” Robert stood. “I need to go tell Sonyea I’m leaving.”
Arthur nodded toward the door. “I think she knows already.”
Robert and Kevin turned to find Sonyea standing in the door with the doctor. The doctor did not look pleased.
“I’m ready to go,” she said. She was already dressed and wearing a sidearm.
“I told her I’d like to hang on to her for a few more days,” the doctor said.
“And I told you that people in Hell want ice water,” she replied, reaching over and placing a hand on the doctor’s shoulder. “I appreciate everything you’ve done. Without your care,
I’d probably be planted in the pasture right now.”
The doctor patted Sonyea on the back. “Just please be careful,” he said. “You’re still weak and have some stitches. Don’t overdo it. You’re only patched up, not repaired.”
The doctor looked at Robert. “I gave her a couple of pain meds and five days of antibiotics. Hopefully that will get you home. After that, you’re on your own.”
Robert nodded. “I hope to be home this evening.”
“I hope you are too,” Arthur said. “Though there are no guarantees out there. You know that as well as I do. There’s an unknown around every corner. Even with the fuel to get you home, you can’t be certain there will even be a road there. Everything is coming apart at the seams.”
Robert nodded at Sonyea. “Looks like I’ll have a tailgunner.”
*
It didn’t take Robert and Sonyea long to get their gear together. In less than thirty minutes, Robert had transferred his personal gear over from his Jeep to Grace’s truck. They could have taken his Jeep and traveled light, but everything that Tom and Sonyea brought with them was in that trailer. It was stuff they would need for settling into a new environment.
Some of the men from the compound helped them gather the horses and load them onto the trailer.
“Are you sure you want to fool with those horses and that trailer?” Arthur asked. “They are no trouble. You can leave them and come back another time. That trailer means you can’t go off road and it limits your maneuverability. Plus, you won’t have any acceleration.”
“I’ve thought about all that,” Robert said. “It’s like you said though. You don’t know what’s around the next corner. There’s no guarantee we’ll be able to get back anytime soon.”
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