The Changing Earth Series (Book 5): Dark Days in Denver

by Hathaway, Sara F.

  “You guys wait here,” Bennet told them.

  They welcomed the opportunity to take a moment and stretch, while Bennet went in to talk.

  “Bennet, you’re back?” Nickleton asked.

  “I sure am, Ben,” Bennet replied.

  Nickleton looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “How many men did he send?” he asked.

  “None, he wouldn’t send any,” Bennet admitted.

  “Patrick, I just got word you made it back,” LtCol Virgis announced, entering the tent. “Where’s the reinforcements?”

  “They got hit bad, guys. The quakes and bombs. Everything is gone. The people on the northern route have large amounts of casualties as well,” Bennet admitted. “There’s going to be a lot more people headed your way.”

  “What about Erika?” Cole asked.

  Bennet shook his head and stared back at Cole.

  “Is Vince with you?” he asked, looking at his shirt.

  “Of course he is. I wouldn’t let him down. We’re going after her. I’m done taking orders,” Bennet told them.

  Cole chuckled at his remark. “Sounds like something Erika would say,” he commented, looking down at the ground.

  “Did you guys find out anything about the guy’s tattoo?” Bennet wondered.

  “No, our communications are still down but we did get an ID on the vehicle. It was a black Chevy Tahoe with a Colorado plate. The number was GKT-680,” Nickleton informed him.

  “Okay then, that’s what we’re going on. We’re headed towards Dallas, hopefully we find something along the way, but if not, Harold will have intel,” Bennet told them.

  “I’m going too,” Cole concluded, looking up at Bennet, his blue eyes shining through a smirk.

  “Cole your place in the merc army will be lost. Merkley won’t take us back,” Bennet warned him.

  “Forget Merkley, Erika needs us,” Cole concluded.

  “I’m going too,” Nickleton decided, ripping the stripes off his sleeve.

  “Ben, you can’t do that,” Bennet warned.

  “The hell I can’t. If my friends are going, I’m going along for the ride,” Ben attested.

  “We’ve got civilians that need housing until we can get back,” Bennet informed him.

  “We can talk with Eli and Darren and get them housed in the Militia quarters,” Cole suggested.

  “Sounds good,” Bennet concluded, heading outside with his friends.

  They drove the vehicle to the Militia encampment while the group walked behind. No one wanted to pile that many people back into the truck. Vince went and greeted Eli. He was in command of the people there, trying to fill Cassidy’s shoes.

  “Geir!” he delighted in seeing the man. “What are you doing out here?” Eli wondered.

  “I need you to make sure my family is safe. I’m going to help Vince find Erika. My sister would approve, and I liked that woman. She’s a good friend,” Geir told him.

  “Couldn’t agree more. I’ll make sure Elizabeth and your kids stay safe and I’m sure you have the same request, Graham,” he commented.

  “You know that I do,” Graham agreed, “and I couldn’t thank you enough.”

  “We’ve got a couple more families with us that will need to be looked after,” Vince told him.

  “We got it. You guys just focus on getting her back. The faster you get on the road, the less time slips away,” Eli told him.

  Vince loved the idea. He hated being here. He hated the memory of waking up here in this very town, knowing she was gone. Everyone went out to help with sorting gear into what was staying and what was going. The truck would still be loaded down with people and supplies on the way out of Denver. Ned limped over, trying to disguise his gait. He threw his pack into the truck as well.

  “Oh no, we’re not taking any gimps along with us,” Geir teased.

  “I’m fine, brother, look,” he said, trying to dance around.

  “Yeah, yeah, get in the truck,” Geir laughed.

  The sun entered its peak in the sky but cast the same hazy orange down when they were finally done prepping for the journey south.

  “Thanks so much for your help Eli,” Vince thanked him, loading into the back of the truck.

  As he went to shut the door he heard a voice yelling, “Vince, Vince!”

  “Wait a second,” Vince directed Geir.

  Looking down the road, he saw Greg and Penni, running up to the truck.

  “Could you use a couple more hands?” Greg asked.

  Vince smiled widely, hugging his friends as he scooped them into the truck. It was packed. Geir and Bennet sat up front. Ned, Graham, and Cole were sitting on the bench seat behind them. Vince, Star, Victoria, Nancy, Daniel, Nickleton, Greg and Penni all rode in the back. It was going to be a tight fit, but nobody cared. They were together, heading out to find Erika.

  Chapter 36

  Erika was utterly humiliated as the ferry left port, headed towards the town of Vernon. Standing in her sports bra with a burlap sack chained around her neck, she wondered: How could people let this happen? As she looked out of the burlap, she saw she was grouped with a whole load of people in chains.

  “Excuse me sir,” a gentleman summoned Swenson.

  “What?” he asked as the man approached.

  “I don’t know where you come from, but where I come from we don’t parade women around half naked, even if they are refugees,” the man told him.

  Erika looked up at him and recognized his face. It was Melvin. He transported Vince and Erika from the north down the Mississippi sea. His muscular black body and green eyes were just as alluring as ever. Erika’s heart begged to talk with him, to signal him, but she didn’t know how. Even if she could, what about Dexter, she worried.

  “What do you care about it,” Swenson hissed back.

  “Either cover her up or I’ll throw you off my boat right here in the middle of the lake,” Melvin threatened him, handing Swenson a jacket.

  Swenson stared fiercely at him. The commander nudged him, and Swenson complied. He cut Erika’s zip-tie on her hands, put the jacket on her, and rezipped them even tighter than before. She winced in pain inside the hood. Swenson moved closer to the commander and whispered in a hushed conversation. The hateful look in Swenson’s eyes conveyed his feelings towards Melvin as he argued with CDR Grey. CDR Grey kept shaking his head and trying to get Swenson to calm down.

  “You musta screwed up big time or your handlers are just major dicks,” a woman next to her whispered quietly. “What happened to your shirt?”

  “Where are all these people going?” Erika whispered curiously.

  “Some will be sold south to Mexico and some will be sold as slaves in the Federal Republic,” she answered. “Why the hood?” the woman asked.

  “I’m Erika Moore,” she whispered. “They’re taking me to General Henderson. You gotta tell the guy who runs this boat. He knows me.”

  The lady looked at her curiously. “And I’m Mother Teresa,” the woman laughed.

  Erika looked over to ensure that Swenson was still busy talking with CDR Grey. His dark eyes were watching her. He saw the woman laughing and pulled at the chain. He brought her in so close, he was breathing down her neck.

  “What did you tell her?” he whispered.

  “That I was an angel. Sent by God,” Erika answered.

  “What did you tell her?” he insisted.

  Erika didn’t say anything.

  He tightened his grip again, threatening: “We’re gonna be off this boat in a minute and then Sheila can find out.”

  “I didn’t tell her anything. She asked why I had to wear the hood,” Erika admitted the partial truth.

  He looked at her, remembering the woman’s laugh.

  “What did you freaking tell her?” he asked again, pulling the chain tighter around her neck. He was slick. No one around her could see her turning blue in the hood.

  “I told her I was Erika Moore and you were taking me to The Supreme General,” Erik
a admitted.

  Swenson strengthened his hold and whispered to Serge. No one spoke during the remainder of the ferry ride. Swenson never let his tight grip on her go. Reaching the boat dock, he finally relaxed his hold as they started filing off the boat.

  Once on land, Erika watched Serge go the same direction as the man who owned the woman she had spoken with.

  “It’s your fault,” Swenson whispered to her. “Now she has to die and your son too.”

  “He’s gonna kill you, run!!” Erika yelled at the man, but no one would listen to a woman chained up in a hood. They thought she had gone loony.

  “Shut her up, Swenson!” CDR Grey insisted.

  He pulled the chain at her neck sharply and her voice was cut off as her windpipe closed. Merkley looked sadly at her as she stared back at him. This whole situation is his fault, Erika told herself. She focused all her hatred on him. He mouthed the words “I’m sorry” to her, but it only infuriated her even more. She lunged at him, head-butting him in the stomach, before Swenson tugged on her leash again. Erika fell down, gasping. Her neck couldn’t take much more abuse, and it was already brightly colored with deep bruises all around it.

  Serge returned from his mission and nodded to Swenson. Erika sighed heavily, disgusted with their activities.

  “We all set, then?” CDR Grey asked.

  “Good to go. I can’t wait to get back into Federal Territory,” Swenson stated.

  “Only a couple of more miles now. Once we get into Chattanooga we can take a transport back to the capital. We’ll be heroes,” the commander speculated.

  The Red River marked the current split between federal land and Texas. They crossed it without incident and removed Erika’s hood. She watched the river trickling by in the dry riverbed.

  “We’re home,” Swenson whispered in her ear while he gave her chain a solid yank.

  Her neck hurt so bad, she started holding onto the chain herself so that her hands could absorb the violent yanks from Swenson.

  “Don’t do that,” he told her.

  “You’re going to break my freaking neck. I thought The Supreme General said pure and unbroken?” Erika asked, shoving it in his face.

  “Don’t you tell me what I’m going to do,” he said, reaching for his whip.

  “Swenson, lay off,” CDR Grey warned him.

  Erika smiled slyly at him. Swenson stared back at her with his dark eye sockets and his bulgy eyes. His nose was a dominating triangle on his face that ended in deep ridges down his cheeks. The days on the road had left his clean-shaven head and beard with a five o’clock shadow.

  “Now that we’re here, let’s take a break, boss. It’s been a long day,” Serge complained.

  “I’m fine with that. Merkley, find us a campsite,” the commander told him, while he drank from his canteen.

  Erika watched him, licking her lips.

  “You need some?” Bishop questioned, Erika.

  “She’s fine,” Swenson answered.

  “TJ, we can’t take her to the General dead,” Bishop countered.

  “Fine but just a little. She doesn’t need that much strength now,” Swenson told him.

  Bishop brought his canteen over and poured it into her mouth. She gulped down the liquid as fast as she could.

  “That’s enough,” Swenson said, knocking the canteen away from her mouth.

  “I got a spot,” Merkley announced, ushering them through the trees.

  It was a secluded space that could be easily defended.

  “Come on,” Swenson told Erika, dragging her along.

  Swenson was still enraged with Melvin’s actions on the boat and he was tired from long day of traveling. Erika noticed his surveillance pattern wasn’t as solid and he was distracted. She, however, was still waiting for her moment, any moment. As they headed over towards the tree line on the edge of the camp, Erika spied a handle sticking up in the ground. It was black and shaded. Swenson hadn’t noticed yet. As he led her close to the tree she collapsed on the handle. He looked at her curiously.

  “I’m tired,” she told him. “And my neck hurts.”

  “If you promise me you won’t run, I’ll put it back on your waist,” Swenson offered.

  It was the first kind gesture he had ever made towards her.

  “I won’t run tonight,” Erika agreed.

  “Promise me, you won’t run ever,” Swenson requested. “Say, TJ, I promise you I will never run from you. Say it just like that!”

  Erika wouldn’t say it. She just stared back at him. Even though the chain was grinding into her neck, she couldn’t promise that.

  “Fine, then deal with it,” he said, ripping on the chain so it jerked hard.

  Erika cringed in pain. He approached, zip-tied her legs together and retied her hands behind her back. Then connected his end of the chain to the tree. He left in a tantrum to go get some water and try to relax. Erika slowly felt the object she had spied. Her hand running down the handle she felt a blade at the end. She made tiny movements as she removed the knife from the dirt and turned it around. Swenson sat by the fire staring at her. His mind was still distressed over the ferryboat incident and he contented himself with his water and ration bars. Trying to keep her body perfectly still, Erika’s hands were working rapidly. She slid the knife up and down on the plastic zip ties. The pressure on her wrists was eliminated as she felt them release. She held her position with the knife behind her back. She knew her moment was coming soon. Swenson left the men to go relieve himself. Merkley was pacing around, looking towards Erika. Come on over, Erika’s mind begged him. Finally, he did.

  “I am so sorry, Erika,” Merkley said, remorsefully.

  “Do you think sorry is going to make up for this? My family is dead,” she said quietly, looking at him blankly.

  “What can I do?” he asked.

  “Die,” she answered, shoving the knife into his neck.

  Serge looked up from his cards when he heard a strange noise come from Merkley. He approached with a curious look on his face. “Merkley,” he called for him, leaning down. Erika shot up with the knife and slit his throat. As Serge fell in front of her, Erika flipped the knife in the air and grabbed the blade. She lifted her arm to throw it into the commander’s head when suddenly the whip cracked the back of her hand, splitting it open. Unable to hold the knife, she yelled with surprise and pain as the blade fell to the ground.

  “Check on Serge,” TJ yelled to Bishop as he swooped in to retrieve the knife. “You freaking whore!” he yelled, grabbing ahold of her head in his palm and throwing her to the ground.

  Her face bounced off a rock and the old wound on her eyebrow split open again, trickling blood into her eye.

  “Give me your hands!” he commanded from behind her. He zipped up a tie so tight she could feel the blood running down into her palms. “Dammit,” he cursed, watching his friend receive medical attention. “Didn’t I tell you guys not to get close to her?” he said, pacing around the camp.

  “Keep pressure on it, right there,” Bishop directed CDR Grey as he grabbed for more gauze. “We have to get him to Chattanooga now!”

  They packed up camp in a hurry and shouldered his weight up the road to the first checkpoint they came to. Swenson pulled at Erika fiercely, cursing her the entire way.

  The federal soldier hustled out to meet them. “CDR Grey, sir,” the man saluted.

  “Do you guys have a vehicle here?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir, a jeep,” he responded.

  “Is it running?” CDR Grey asked.

  “Yes, sir,” he answered.

  “Give me the keys,” CDR Grey ordered.

  “Yes, sir,” the boy replied, handing over the keys.

  The men loaded Serge into the back of the jeep and Bishop sat with him, tending to his wounds. CDR Grey was driving. Swenson wrapped his arms around Erika and took her with him as he got into the passenger seat. They left Merkley’s body where it fell.

  Swenson squeezed her all the way to Chat
tanooga. Serge was barely clinging to life. Bishop and CDR Grey rushed him into the medical facility. Swenson turned on Erika. CDR Grey was gone. It was just her and him. He looked at her with the most fiercely scary eyes she had ever seen. She shrunk from his grasp, taking a few steps back.

  “Don’t you run from me!” he demanded, instinctively snatching his whip and lashing it around her ankle. He yanked it back sharply and Erika fell hard on the ground. Swenson mounted her in the street. “Say it!” he raged. “Say TJ I will never run from you.”

  “No,” she replied defiantly.

  He smacked her repeatedly across the face. “Say it!”

  She cowered from his strikes but remained quiet.

  “Come on,” he said, getting up and dragging her with him.

  He walked her into a prison facility that was located across from the medical facility. “Give me the keys to a cell,” Swenson ordered the girl at the desk.

  “Sir, we can take care of the prisoner for you,” a soldier who ran the facility suggested.

  “Nobody touches this prisoner except me. Nobody! Do you hear? It is for your protection, not hers!” he snapped. “Now give me the keys!”

  The young lady did as she was told and handed the keys to the second cell to Swenson. He jerked Erika down the hall, occasionally kicking her when she fell. The soldiers watched his assault on the woman but said nothing. Mr. Swenson was well known in the Federal Republic as someone you did not cross. He was one of the finest bounty hunters employed by the Supreme General and he performed his job ruthlessly. Dragging Erika on the ground into the cell, he stood her up on her tippy toes and hooked her chain up high, so she was forced to stay in that position.

  “Do you have a pair of shackles over there?” he asked the soldiers.

  “Yes sir,” the man replied, bringing him a pair of chains that fit around her ankles.

  “Bring me some real handcuffs too,” he told the boy.

  The young soldier did as he was told.

  “Do not under any circumstance get too close to those bars. I am not kidding about this one,” Swenson said, leaving her in the cell and taking the keys with him.

  Erika hung by her neck, gasping for air while she waited for him to return. She watched the sun outside of the prison set lower and lower until finally he came back. The hateful look of anger he displayed grew even more intense.