Silent Interruption (Book 3): An Uncertain Passage

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Silent Interruption (Book 3): An Uncertain Passage Page 12

by Russell, Trent


  “Thanks.” Parker then let out a peaceful sigh. “I want to die with it in my hands. Mackie…Conrad…they’ll be cool…letting a Marine…use…”

  Parker’s body suddenly relaxed. His head tilted to the side. The soldier was gone.

  “Parker.” Carl shook his head. “Damn.”

  He didn’t know Parker at all, but that didn’t matter. The loss of any military service member in battle was a punch to the gut. Encountering Parker also had restored, at least for a moment, a sense of normality. Carl was back on military grounds, conversing with a fellow soldier, even if Parker was part of the U.S. Army and not the Marines. It didn’t matter, though.

  Carl bowed his head. “Godspeed, soldier.” He stood up, blinking back tears. Then, he saluted the still form of Private Parker.

  Now his anger returned. He had to get his friends away from this place. This would-be haven was a war zone.

  That explosion may or may not have taken out Nichols and Ben, but he wouldn’t take any chances. He charged down the hall until he ran across the bodies of the three soldiers. He grabbed Mackie’s and Conrad’s guns, hanging Mackie’s over his shoulder and holding Conrad’s. Cal had a rifle as well, but it was damaged by a bullet that struck it just above the trigger. A third gun might weigh him down anyway. He quickly searched their bodies for spare clips and found one more.

  Carl then sprinted out the front doors. A soft breeze blew smoke across his path. Nearby, an angry plume of fire leaped from the opening of the munitions building. A section of the top had been blown clean off, permitting another geyser of fire to lash out at the sky. No one was running from the blast site, but the spreading smoke could have covered the flight of an invader who had survived Sheri’s blast.

  Forget about this place. Shyanne. Tara. Preston. Alicia, Ricardo, everyone else. They’re all that matter now.

  Carl arrived back at the open gate. However, there was no sign of his friends. He had left them not far from the gate opening. Where did they go?

  Carl’s mind raced with unpleasant possibilities. If they were killed, wouldn’t their bodies be here? Then they must have been captured. No, he told them to leave if they had to do so. Maybe they saw Ben’s invasion party and retreated into the woods. Harold certainly would have done so. A quick check of the grass and dirt on the other side of the road, however, yielded no tracks. Carl then followed the road back several paces. There, he discovered crushed grass and a single boot track in a dirty patch. It wasn’t much, but it told Carl his friends had backtracked to this spot and made off for the woods on the other side of the road.

  The trees that made up the woods were thicker closer to the horizon, leaving a few yards where the forest was thin enough to easily spot movement. As Carl ventured farther into the woods, he did not spot any of his friends nor did any of them come out to greet him. In all likelihood, they had journeyed deeper into the woods. Carl’s heart sank since his search would be harder inside the thick canopy of the forest. If his friends had traveled so far already. Carl figured they must have disembarked for the forest not long after he had set out for the base.

  Carl chose what he thought was the direction his friends had traveled and hurried into the woods. He checked the ground carefully for any new tracks. However, there were a lot of fallen branches in this part of the forest. Carl silently thanked God for that. The fewer opportunities his friends had to make tracks, the less of a chance Ben’s party would find them.

  But during the next several minutes, Carl found no trace of his friends that he could recognize. He feared he could miss their path by inches, which, if he kept going in the wrong direction, would turn into miles.

  Just then, he heard an owl’s hooting. He frowned. It was a very bad hoot, almost fake. Actually, Carl was sure it was phony. He turned to the direction of the hoot, to a gap between trees.

  Preston was behind the trunk, his hand cupped around his mouth. Carl hurried to join him. “Preston?”

  Preston glanced behind him. “I told you I sucked at this.”

  “That’s why I wanted you to do it,” Tara’s voice whispered back, “Carl would know it’s you!”

  Carl crossed behind the tree, pushing aside an overhanging branch in the process. Tara and Preston were crouched behind the trees, with Shyanne hanging off Tara’s back. He instantly was both relieved and alarmed that he had run into so few of his traveling companions.

  “What’s going on? Where is everybody?” he asked.

  “Harold’s boys saw trackers in the woods,” Tara said. “We all fled for cover. Preston and I broke off to draw them away.” Then she pointed her thumb at Shyanne. “And this one wanted to help because, as she says, she’s a fast runner.”

  “Harold said he’d rig up some cover in the woods for everyone else,” Preston said. “We put this plan together on the fly, so we don’t know where they ended up.”

  “Hey, you got some guns?” Tara looked at the weapons Carl was carrying. “Sweet.”

  Carl handed one of his rifles to Tara. “The base was totaled. A guy named Ben Graf plus his band and a traitor inside the base launched an attack. They were after the guns but someone on the base blew it up first.” Carl shook his head. “I found only one survivor. He died not long afterward. I couldn’t check for anyone else. I had to come back and warn you.”

  “Then we can’t go to the base?” Shyanne asked.

  The way she asked it broke Carl’s heart. “I’m sorry.” His head sank. “I guess I really was fooling myself. I led you all on a wild goose chase. I don’t know where we’re going to go now.”

  Shyanne walked up to Carl and hugged his arm. “You tried.” She said it with such sympathy and understanding that it melted much of Carl’s dark mood.

  Tara knelt down and gave Shyanne a quick kiss on the cheek. “How about we talk more about it later. We need to catch up to Harold and the others.”

  However, before they could begin their journey farther into the forest, a voice rang out over their heads, carried by a bullhorn. “Attention! Attention! Two men, one woman, one girl. All of you are ordered to stay on the ground. Drop your weapons and place your hands on your heads.”

  “Shit,” Carl whispered.

  The branches around them began to shiver. A man armed with a shotgun stepped out from behind the trees. Then another, and another, until about nine in all encircled them with heavy ammunition pointed at them. All of them wore camouflage masks over their faces.

  “Mister Carl…” Shyanne said with a whimper.

  Carl placed his hands on his head. “Just do it like this,” Carl said with all the calm he could inject into his voice. Preston and Tara did likewise. Shyanne, though trembling, did as she was told.

  Finally, a tenth individual showed up. He was clutching a bullhorn, meaning this must be the guy who had given the orders. He wore a long-sleeved camo shirt. Carl could not discern what he looked like thanks to the green camo mask covering his face.

  “You look like you’re on edge,” he said. The man spoke calmly and a little jovially, contrasting with the fierce look he projected with his garb and weapons. Then he signaled to the nearest man, who quickly supplied him with a water bottle. “Care for a drink?”

  “I’d take it, but you told us to put our hands up,” Carl deadpanned.

  The quip helped mask the anger in his voice. These men were dressed just like the guys who had attacked Camp Jefferson. They were the savages who had broken into the base and killed the soldiers there.

  “True.” The leader shrugged, as if he had forgotten his earlier words.

  “So, we have a curious little family here.” He pointed to Shyanne. “Now, there’s no way she can be your daughter. Let me guess. Adopted? And I see two men. Which one’s the husband?” The man chuckled.

  “Or, let me guess. You’re just strangers forced together by circumstance. That makes a lot more sense.” Then he handed the water back to his subordinate before speaking. “Names. Now.”

  “Carl Mathers,” Carl said
. “These are my friends. The lady is Tara, the man here is Preston, and the girl’s Shyanne. But you don’t have to worry about them. I speak for all of us.”

  “Well, I’ll decide who speaks for who, friend.” The man strolled a little closer to Carl. “And, by the way, I’m Ben Graf.”

  So this is Ben, Carl thought. I wonder if Nichols is among these men.

  “Hey!” One of the men jabbed a finger in Preston’s direction. “I know this son of a bitch. My brother showed me his online videos. Preston Wilson. He’s a big antiwar guy.”

  “Oh my God, don’t tell me you have fans here,” Tara whispered. Preston just blanched.

  “Antiwar guy, huh?” Ben snapped his head in Preston’s direction.

  “I see you’re packing now.” Ben pointed to the gun on Preston’s belt. “So much for that pacifist bullshit, right? Get a big electrical storm, shut everything down and suddenly everyone’s a barbarian.”

  Preston grimaced. “A rational person has to adapt to his circumstances.”

  A few of the men laughed under their masks. Ben chuckled, but it sounded mean and derisive. “That is so right. Actually, the way I look at it, a man can do more than just adapt. A man can find opportunity.” Ben then walked back toward Carl. “My pack, we’re all friends, neighbors, friends of family, or just guys who found each other in the madness. But we all got one thing in common. We recognize opportunity when it’s fallen into our laps.”

  Ben then pointed to a man across from Carl. “Seth here slit the throat of a cop who jailed him twice for drunken driving. No one’s coming to throw his ass in jail.”

  Then he pointed to the gunman beside Seth. “Kale’s wife cheated on him, divorced him, and stole his money. Let’s just say after this week that no one’s going to file a missing person’s report on Kale’s lady.”

  Ben gestured to the next man down. “Harper’s my cousin. Boss treated him like garbage and passed him over for promotion twice. Today, Harper’s boss is tied up in his office. Oh, Harper made him eat his own lips.”

  “I’d have made him kiss his own ass if he wasn’t so fat,” Harper said. Some of the men laughed.

  The merriment definitely was not shared by Carl and his friends. A chill ran down Carl’s spine, even though it was humid out here. These men were psychopaths. Reasoning with them might be impossible, yet he was outgunned badly. Provoking a fight was out of the question.

  “So what’s your story?” Ben marched closer to Carl. “You look like you hit the gym every freakin’ day. Are you a health nut? Or maybe you’re a cop. I hope you’re not. Seth is still sore about those DUIs. He might take it out on you.”

  “I’m just a normal guy,” Carl said.

  He wasn’t sure if revealing his past as a Marine was a good idea, especially with their involvement in raiding Camp Jefferson. They might be royally pissed at anyone who wore a military uniform, especially after the munitions facility exploded and probably took out some of their guys. “Out of work, trying to help my friends.”

  “Well, if you’re looking for work, look no further.” Ben spread his arms. “We take whatever we want. New law of the land. Perhaps you’d care to lend your muscles to our team.”

  Like hell, Carl thought, but he kept his thoughts in check.

  Before Carl had a chance to voice any kind of reply, the branches behind Ben parted. Three more men emerged, none of them with masks on. They were panting as if they had rushed over here from some great distance. The man in the middle, however, caught Carl’s full attention. He wore camo pants, a green T-shirt and an open jacket that looked military issue.

  “Hey!” the man in the middle said.

  “Hey,” Ben said, “you seem a little lonely, Nichols. Only Jaime and Cooper? Where’s the other guys?”

  Nichols frowned. “We’re all that’s left. Assholes didn’t go down without a fight.”

  “I thought we took them by surprise. When I left, you had everything in good hands.”

  Nichols put his hands on his hips. “Yeah, well, they staged a counterattack. I thought I took out most of the soldiers when I torched the barracks, but too many of them escaped and regrouped.”

  “Well, how about that? I guess they actually do recruit people who didn’t fall off the turnip truck yesterday,” Ben said. “And where’s the weapons?”

  “Toast. They rigged the place to blow. Jaime and I barely got out with our lives.” Nichols rubbed the back of his neck. It was beet red, perhaps from exposure to sudden heat. He must have barely outdistanced the explosion. “Cooper was the only other one to make it out.”

  “Well, that’s a pretty disappointing end to what was looking like a sweet haul.” Ben slowly turned away. “A large haul of weapons and ammunition. With that, we could have built our own little country, Benstan. We only got maybe a quarter of what we wanted, but I guess shit happens.”

  Then Ben turned his attention to Carl. “Speaking of ammo, those are some pretty sweet guns. They look almost military grade. Where have you been, Carl Mathers?”

  “I have some experience in military hardware,” Carl said.

  “You didn’t come from that base, did you?” Ben asked.

  “I didn’t serve there,” Carl replied.

  “But you are military. Yeah, I see it.” Ben then aimed his gun at Shyanne. “Tell me now.”

  “U.S. Marines!” Carl quickly replied. “Finished my last tour this year. Been overseas in Iraq and Afghanistan. I was caught up in a city not too far away when the EMP hit. I only came here to find shelter, nothing more. I didn’t shoot at any of your guys.”

  “He’s probably right,” Nichols said. “He don’t look like anyone on base. I recognize a lot of those faces and his ain’t one of them.”

  “A Marine.” Ben pulled his gun off Shyanne and onto Carl. “The few, the proud.” He snickered. “But at least you’re not a cop. I think I’ll cut you a break. Of course, it will cost you. The weapons, for sure.” Ben then turned to Tara and Preston. “All on the ground, now.”

  Carl glanced at them. “Do it.”

  The three adults laid down the weapons they had taken from Tyler’s store, along with the rifles and ammunition Carl had picked up from Camp Jefferson. Ben was nodding and making noises under his mask like an approving high school teacher.

  “Not bad. Not great, but not bad.” Ben snapped his fingers. Harper and Cooper retrieved the weapons while Ben stood back. “But, I’m afraid the transaction is a little incomplete.”

  “What else do you want? Food? Provisions?” Carl asked.

  “Naaah.” Ben snapped his fingers again. “Just your better halves.”

  Suddenly, four of Ben’s group swarmed in and grabbed Tara and Shyanne. Two men each carried off Tara and Shyanne, who shouted and struggled against their captors.

  “What are you doing!?” Carl screamed.

  Ben quickly jabbed his rifle in Carl’s and Preston’s direction. “Don’t get brave, although I’d love to see a Marine and an antiwar guy try and take me on at once. That would be one hilarious sight to see. But I’ve got work to do. So we’re taking what we want. If you try following us, the girls are dead.”

  Ben then withdrew his gun and followed his band back through the woods. Preston trembled. “Damn them!” He broke into a run, but Carl grabbed him.

  “Don’t!” Carl said, “They’ll kill them.”

  “But Carl, we can’t lose them!”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” Carl held onto Preston tightly. “But it’s…it’s the only way.”

  Carl clutched Preston until there was no further sign of Ben’s group. Then, he let go, and promptly released his fury into a shout to the sky.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Carl slapped the latest branch out of his way. “Where are the others?” he asked. He had been asking it for the past few minutes and didn’t seem to be hearing Preston’s reply.

  “I don’t know,” Preston replied.

  “Where are they?” Carl asked.

  “I don
’t know!” This time Preston screamed in response. “Harold and the others went off to the west. That’s all I know! We had to act quickly so the others wouldn’t get caught.”

  “I need their guns and I need them now,” Carl said through seething rage.

  “Carl, I’m doing the best I can!” Preston trembled.

  “Those bastards slaughtered an entire army base and now they have Shyanne and Tara. I want their heads. I want their heads and I want our friends back, alive and unharmed!”

  Preston swallowed hard. He never had heard such rage in Carl’s voice. “Carl, I am with you a thousand percent, but if we lose our heads, we’re never going to see Tara or Shyanne alive again.” He coughed before he could finish. “Believe me, I know what it’s like to blow a gasket.”

  A small twig smacked Carl on the forehead before he could reply. Carl quickly looked up. Ricardo was perched on a branch high aloft. He waved down to Carl. “Hi!” he said. “You two are making too much noise!”

  Further rustling above their heads drew Carl’s and Preston’s attention. Matthew and Tom emerged out of thick masses of green leaves. Then Harold slid down from the tree just behind Carl and Preston.

  “Thank God,” Carl whispered.

  “Sometimes the best place to go is up, right?” Ricardo asked as his mother climbed down the same tree Ricardo was perched on.

  “When I saw how thick these trees were, I knew we had a chance if we could get to them,” Harold said. By now he had climbed halfway down to Carl and Preston. “Just as long as they didn’t have any hunting dogs with them. Turns out we got lucky.” Harold’s boot cracked a branch, but by now he was very close to the ground, so he effortlessly dropped down to the dirt.

  “Of course, Tara and Preston helped lead the tracker away.” Then he lowered his voice. “No offense to Alicia Farrell, but she’s not the quickest lady I’ve met, if you know what I mean. They bought us valuable time to get everyone up and hidden.” He then frowned. “Hey Preston, if you’re here…”

 

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