“The dampness is hard on your mother too.”
Jim nodded. “About killed her last time.”
The screen door flew open and Pete came out. He was dressed in camo and had a pack full of gear with him. He was also carrying an M1 Garand. Jim did not own one of those.
“Going to my outpost,” Pete said. “Have to relieve Lloyd.” He started down the porch steps.
“Where did you get that?” Jim asked.
“It’s an M1 Garand,” Pete said, holding the rifle out for Jim to see.
“I know what it is, but where did you get it?” Teenagers seemed never to give you the straight answer you wanted. You had to pry everything out of them.
“Mack Bird,” Pete said. “He told me if I was going to have an outpost, I needed the right rifle. He lent me this one.”
“Your .270 was pretty accurate,” Jim said.
“This is accurate and I can do fast follow-up shots,” Pete countered.
“Just be careful,” Jim said. “It takes a while to get used to a new gun. Be safe.”
“I’m already used to it,” Pete said. “Mack let me use it every time we did watch together.”
Jim and Ellen watched Pete go, walking off toward Outpost Pete with his man-sized strides. He was Jim’s height now. How that had happened, Jim had no idea. One day he was a child with a toy tool belt and a rubber hammer pretending to help build things, and in the blink of an eye he was wearing the same size clothes as Jim. It was too heartbreaking to dwell on. The passing of time could hit you like that sometimes, like a brick to the head.
“So what are you getting into today?” Ellen asked, breaking the downward spiral of Jim’s thoughts.
“Pops, Gary, and I are going to offload as much fuel as we can from that tanker. That way if we do lose it, they’re not getting everything. We’ll have some in reserve.”
“Where can you store it?”
“I have several old fuel tanks from oil furnaces,” Jim said. “We’re going to mount one on a hay wagon and use that to refill all of the old in-ground tanks at houses throughout the valley. Some people also have tanks they use on the farm for fueling tractors. We’re going to fill all those too. All of those little tanks are easier to hide than a big shiny fuel tanker.”
Ellen was concerned about the fuel but more concerned about food and staying warm over the winter. The food they’d obtained from the Glenwall trailers had been helpful but it was hard to feel comfortable when they had no idea how long this event was going to last. She didn’t serve a single meal where she didn’t wonder how she was going to replace the ingredients she’d used.
Jim rose from the swing. “I guess I better get to work. Sitting here worrying isn’t accomplishing anything.”
Ellen wasn’t far behind him. “I’ve got stuff to do too. The list never ends.”
Jim went back in the house, threw his load vest over his shoulder, and grabbed all of his every day carry gear. He found his truck keys and took up his M4. On his way to the truck, he saw his dad’s Kawasaki Mule sitting in the barn. The two-person utility vehicle was diesel-powered and they’d been using it to do perimeter checks. Usually the team pulling guard duty would load up at random points in their shift and do checks. They’d been stretched thin the last couple of nights. Re-opening Outpost Pete, mostly manned by Lloyd, Pete, and Buddy, had reduced the number of men available to do random patrols.
Jim decided that it might be a good idea to do a lap around the valley before getting started on the fuel deliveries. It was still early and Pops wasn’t even up yet. It usually took about an hour to make a pass around the valley. He had the time.
He’d improvised a floor-mounted rifle rack in the UTV similar to what cops used in their patrol vehicles. He confirmed there was a round in the chamber of the M4 and slapped the bottom of the mag to make sure it was seated firmly. As he started off in the vehicle, he realized he hadn’t told anyone what he was doing. He pulled his radio from its pouch. Moving around outside, regardless of the threat level, was not something you did without making people aware of where you were going.
“This is Jim, heading out for a perimeter check,” he said into the radio.
He didn’t wait for a reply, nor did he even notice that he didn’t get one. He shoved the radio back in the pouch and patted the Velcro flap back into place. Ellen, the intended recipient of that message, was getting Ariel up at the time Jim tried to reach her. Her radio was sitting on the kitchen counter and the volume had been lowered to keep from waking up everyone who was still asleep. She never heard him.
Pete usually heard most of the radio transmissions. He had good signal at the outpost and was hypervigilant. At the moment, he and Lloyd were admiring the M1 Garand. Lloyd was telling Pete a story about his grandfather using the M1 Garand in World War II. That led to more stories about the other things his grandfather saw in the war and finally a dirty little song sung to the tune of Whistle While You Work that involved Hitler and Mussolini.
They, of course, missed the transmission. They heard the radio chatter but dismissed it as part of the everyday chatter between residents of the valley that went on all day long. They both assumed that if it was important, there would be a retransmission.
The diesel Mule was slower than a truck but its tires and suspension handled the farm terrain much butter. It practically floated over bumps and ruts. Jim left his farm and shot down the farm road toward the creek crossing. They hadn’t blocked this route because they needed it, but he had put several branches and tripwires in place as tells that should let him know if people had driven in this way. Although none of them were disturbed, there was no comfort in that. They would still be coming at some point. It was inevitable.
He had a cheap set of binoculars with him and he used those to glass the creek crossing where Deel had been killed. All of the vehicles that had been left there were gone now and no others were in sight. Jim retreated and headed north to another farm. He drove along the fence line until he reached a gate and crossed. From there, he drove to a high knob that allowed him to check the perimeter of that property for any places where the fence had been cut to allow vehicle access. He didn’t see anything out of place.
It crossed his mind that if he didn’t dwell on the reason he was out here doing this, it was pretty enjoyable to just be out here riding through farmland on a sunny morning. He descended from the high open field and followed a logging road through a hardwood forest. Some trees were already starting to change color, an indicator that colder days would be on them soon and life would become even harder.
He came upon a tree that had fallen across the logging road. It was common enough and didn’t raise any alarms. The woods were full of dead trees that dropped without warning or healthy trees that uprooted in high winds. This one was a small maple about eight inches in diameter. Jim got out to put the winch on it. When he looked off toward the base of the maple he noticed a pile of fresh sawdust at the base of the tree. It took a second to settle in but the tree had not fallen on its own.
It had been cut.
The hair on his neck stood up, issuing a warning even before his brain caught up. He grabbed for his hip but his Beretta wasn’t there. He recalled too late that it was holstered on the vest which had been lying beside him in the seat of the Mule. He went for his backup but never had a chance to draw. There was an explosion of sound behind him, a sting on his back, and a staccato burst of electrical discharge.
Taser!
It was the last thought that passed through his brain before the signals got scrambled. His limbs stiffened and he toppled over, falling like the tree across the road.
“Hit him again!” someone yelled.
There was another series of crackles and his body went rigid. Then a rifle butt came down on the side of his head and the lights went out.
Chapter 41
The Valley
Alice woke early but remained in her sleeping bag. The night hadn’t been cold but had been chilly enough that the war
mth of her bag was comforting. She was eager to bolt out of the sleeping bag and head into the valley but Charlie was still asleep. After what he’d been through she would let him enjoy the small peace that sleep offered. She thought about their argument yesterday and felt bad about it. They would have to revisit it again after they were settled. She wanted him to understand her. She wanted him to know that he was loved.
She might have dozed off again herself but at some point she heard what sounded like an ATV headed in their direction. She sat up, wondering if they’d left some kind of trail that was drawing attackers to them. She clutched the revolver, fear clutching her chest. She forced herself to relax. The sound of an ATV didn’t mean people were pursuing her.
She slid out of her bag and walked to where she could see the logging road they’d followed through the forest. She was about forty feet from where Charlie lay sleeping. She noticed a flicker of movement in the woods. It corresponded with the sound of the machine and she ducked, watching.
“What is it, Mom?” Charlie asked.
He was awake and looking at her, rubbing the sleep from his eyes like he was three again. She held a finger to her lips and kept it there until he opened his eyes and saw.
Instantly understanding, he slid from his own bag and grabbed his AR. He crouched and crept to where his mother knelt. “What is it?”
“Four wheeler,” she said, keeping her voice low out of habit.
Charlie knelt beside her and they watched. “It’s a side by side,” he said. “A UTV. Probably a farmer. Probably the guy that owns this farm.”
Alice didn’t answer, just watched intensely. Shortly, the driver encountered a downed tree across the road. Alice remembered the tree from last night. They’d had to walk the horses into the woods to get around it. The horses had that advantage over this wider machine.
“That looks like…” Alice trailed off. “Do you have your binoculars?”
Charlie ran back to his gear and returned with the binos. Alice quickly raised them and focused on the UTV.
“That’s Jim!” she said. “The guy we’re looking for!”
Charlie grabbed the binos to take a look. Alice stood and was starting to walk down the hill toward Jim when Charlie grabbed her from behind.
“Get down! Don’t make a sound!” he said.
Alice started to fight him off, unable to stop herself, but he shoved the binoculars at her. She stared at them for a moment, then took them and studied the scene again. There were more men now and they appeared to be searching a man on the ground.
“There were men in camo hiding,” Charlie said. “They tased him.”
Alice couldn’t believe it. The man was definitely Jim. She hadn’t seen these other men. What the hell was happening? Should she open fire?
She couldn’t do that, she couldn’t tell who was who. She didn’t know who to shoot. What if the shots brought more men? Her mind raced.
As she watched, the men handcuffed Jim and threw him into the back of his own vehicle, then drove off.
“What was that?” Charlie asked.
“I think some bad men just took Jim,” she said. “We need to let his family know. We need to see if we can help.”
“Maybe I should follow them,” Charlie said. “I can keep an eye on them, see where they take him.”
“No,” Alice said firmly. “I’m going to follow them. You gather the gear and take all the pack horses. You go back the way we came until you hit the farm road, then you keep going on that. You tell them who you are. You tell them what happened. Do not raise your gun. These men will be armed and a little jumpy but it will be okay.”
“I don’t want you to go,” Charlie said, even as Alice was running toward her horse.
“Have to,” Alice said. “Now do what I said!”
She threw her saddle on her horse and cinched it up. In a moment, she had her rifle on her shoulder, her Go Bag on her back, and was riding off through the trees.
When he was certain she was out of sight, Charlie sank to his knees and began to sob hysterically. “I love you, Mom! I’m sorry.”
Chapter 42
The Valley
Charlie cried for a long time in the silence of the forest, his anguish quieting the chatter of birds and squirrels. He fell over on his side, his face resting upon thick cool moss. He didn’t know exactly why he was crying, but at the same time he knew the tears were shed for every single injustice visited upon him and his family since the terror attacks occurred. When the tears finally stopped, he felt as if a weight had been lifted, even if it was only a momentary reprieve.
He stood and dusted himself off, then gathered up the sleeping gear. When the sleeping bags were rolled into the tarp, he saddled each horse and loaded them. That accomplished, he tethered them head to tail in a train and set out to do as he’d been told.
He left the woods by the trail they’d followed in, then turned left onto the rutted farm road. He hadn’t even traveled a mile when he encountered another group of riders. They came upon each other so suddenly that both parties realized there was no avoiding nor hiding. Either they’d pass in peace or they’d fight it out in close quarters.
“Morning,” Charlie said as the riders neared. He tried to sound like a man, hoping his voice didn’t convey the fear he felt.
The other riders were a woman about his mother’s age and an old man. They had pack horses too, and both carried guns.
“Morning,” the older man said. “That’s quite a string of horses you’re leading.”
“They’re mine,” Charlie said. “And I aim to keep them.”
“Whoa there, boy,” the man said. “I ain’t after your horses. I’m just commenting that in this day of video games and skateboards it’s an uncommon sight to see a young man of your age leading a string of pack horses across the land.”
Charlie thought the old man talked funny but he didn’t seem to be dangerous. “I was never into video games or skateboards,” Charlie said. “And I only recently came to be into horses.”
“My name is Buddy,” the old man said. “This here is Randi.”
Charlie nodded at them. “I’m Charlie.”
Buddy pointed to the east. “We live in this valley and we’re headed home,” Buddy said. “Whereabouts are you headed?”
There were a lot of questions, and perhaps even a warning, buried within that question. Part of Charlie didn’t want to admit anything. Another part of him knew that he had to get help for Jim and his mom.
“You all know a man named Jim?” he asked hesitantly.
It was immediately obvious that the name meant something to them. There was a change in the way they looked at him and at each other.
“We know him,” Randi asked. “Why?”
She’d already got in trouble once for bringing folks to Jim’s house. That ended with her having to watch the execution of two men. She didn’t want to make that mistake again. If she brought someone into the valley with her, there better be a damn good reason for it.
“My mom is Alice,” Charlie said. “She was on a trip with him with all this happened.”
“I know your mom. We work…worked together,” Randi said. “I was on that trip with her. Is she okay?”
“I’m not sure,” Charlie said. “We were on our way to this valley because Jim said we could come stay there if we needed to. My mom thought she saw him this morning driving a UTV through the woods. About the time she figured out who he was, these men in camouflage came out of nowhere and hit him with a Taser. They took him and my mom followed them.”
“Shit!” Randi said.
“Shit is right,” Buddy said. “Randi, can you take the packhorses and lead Charlie to the valley? You need to tell Gary and Ellen what happened. I’m going to try to catch up with Alice.”
“Alice doesn’t know you,” Randi said. “You run up on her and she’ll blow your head off before you can introduce yourself.”
“She’s right,” Charlie said. “Mom is different than she was when
she left. She doesn’t have the same kind of feelings inside that her that she used to.”
“Then you go,” Buddy said. “But be careful. If you find him, don’t engage the men that took him until we get there. You’ll just get yourself killed.”
Randi frowned at the way he was talking to her. “I’m not stupid.”
“I know you’re not,” Buddy said. “I just don’t want to see you hurt.”
Randi accepted that without comment. She handed the lead to her packhorses to Buddy and took off in the direction Charlie said they were headed.
Buddy and Charlie moved as quickly as they could with the two strings of packhorses. When they neared the back gate into Jim’s farm, Buddy removed a radio from his pocket and spoke into it.
“Valley, this is Buddy. I’m coming in the back way and I’ve got someone with me. Pete, you up there?”
“Got eyes on you,” Pete said. “Who’s that with you?”
“Best you hear it in person, Pete. Come down to your mom’s house. And if you guys are listening, I probably need Gary and Mack to come to Jim’s house too.”
It was just a moment before Gary and Mack confirmed they were on their way.
Pete was jogging down to the house and arrived at the same time Charlie and Buddy did. Buddy asked Pete to help Charlie get the horses in the barn.
“Should we unload them?” Charlie asked.
“Go ahead and toss the packs off,” Buddy said. “Get them some water. Then come inside so we can get a plan together.”
Buddy left his string of horses with Pete and quickly walked to the house. Ellen saw him coming and came out onto the porch.
“What’s going on?”
From the barn, Pete saw Buddy put his hand gently on his mother’s shoulder, then lead her into the house. He saw his mother move her hand up to her mouth. It looked like she’d received bad news.
Pete turned to the other boy. “Did something happen to my dad?”
Valley of Vengeance: Book Five in The Borrowed World Series Page 19
