Gone to Ground

by Cheryl Taylor

  The whine swelled, then just as suddenly as it came, it began to recede. The cattle and horses returned to their moonlit grazing. In the hen house, silence returned. At the main house there was no indication from the humans that anything had changed.

  The wayward wind again picked up and died, picked up and died. Everything once again was peaceful.

  32

  “We’ve got them! I think we’ve got them!” A young deputy, whose name Rickards couldn’t remember

  , threw open the door to the van and was beckoning the captain over from where he was sitting with the rest of the team, drinking coffee.

  Large panel LED lights operating off the oversized solar charged batteries stored in the jeeps surrounded the cluster of vehicles, drawing millions of small bugs to their deaths while illuminating the camping area set up on the edge of town. There had been some talk of taking over beds in some of the abandoned houses, but most of the men felt uncomfortable with that situation. In the end, everyone decided to stay together as a group, setting up tents and sleeping bags in the middle of the highway.

  In lieu of a campfire, a small propane stove provided a hot meal and coffee for the team of ten officers. A campfire would have been nice, thought Rickards wistfully, but try finding dry fire wood in the desert during the monsoon season.

  Fortunately for his team, Wikieup seemed nearly untouched by scavenger teams, ghosts, annihilation teams or any of the other groups of people who might have appropriated everything left on the shelves at the time of the disease and concentration. It was obvious that someone had been in the stores recently, presumably O’Reilly, but he’d left everything more or less intact, taking only what he needed to live in the wilderness.

  At least that’s what Rickards assumed. There did seem to be a lot of things missing for just O’Reilly and the four children, but the stores in no way resembled the trash pits usually left behind by early looters or later bands of ghosts.

  At the deputy’s shout, a flood of adrenaline shot through Rickards’ system. I’ve got him, he thought. Finally I’ve got the slippery son of a bitch. Rising hastily to his feet, Rickards walked swiftly over to the van that was acting as the mobile tech station. Inside the young deputy - Martin, no Martinez, thought Rickards - was sitting at a computer screen, busily typing on his keyboard.

  Climbing in and taking a seat in the second chair, Rickards looked over Martinez’ shoulder, studying the screen. The night vision sensors on the seekers rendered the landscape in shades of blue and gray, giving it an otherworldly aura. Rickards had some experience in translating the ghostly scene sent by the seekers into real life, but he saw nothing in the view in front of him that made him think the fugitives were anywhere near.

  “What have we got here, Martinez?”

  “Seeker 2 has just passed over an area approximately forty-three miles to the northeast of here. It’s a deep canyon with a wide area containing some buildings and a small stream. Probably a ranch camp. Here, let me roll back the footage.” Martinez tapped a few keys on the keyboard and the picture on the screen abruptly changed, showing the land unraveling underneath the seeker as it moved along. A digital readout in the upper left corner indicated that the seeker had passed over this terrain only a short time before.

  Abruptly the land dropped away as the seeker floated out over what appeared to be a deep canyon or wash. The seeker dropped altitude, maintaining its programmed height of sixty feet.

  A number of fuzzy blue-gray blips appeared in the phosphorescent blue-gray landscape. The resolution of the cameras in the seekers wasn’t perfect, but he could swear that these blips were livestock, not people.

  “Are those cows?”

  “Yes, sir, and horses. See, there and there?” Martinez indicated several blips that had a definite equine appearance as opposed to the bovine aspect of the other blips. Rickards squinted his eyes, trying to see if he was missing anything.

  “This is ranch land, Martinez. One would expect to see horses and cattle. What makes you think the fugitives are nearby?”

  “The location for one thing. There’s a high concentration of livestock in this one area in conjunction with buildings... See, there,” Martinez pointed to a large shape in the background. “That’s a barn and that’s a windmill over there,” the deputy indicated another tall stick-like shape that had a barely discernable set of blades at the top, spinning slowly in what appeared to be a gentle breeze.

  Rickards studied the pictures. The blue-gray landscape showed the buildings and the livestock that Martinez indicated, beyond doubt. What he still wasn’t sure of was why that meant that the runaways were hiding nearby. The last thing he wanted was to send his team on a wild goose chase while the fugitives made good their escape from another direction.

  “Surely there are ranches scattered all over this land. Why should it be unusual to find them?” Rickards queried, continuing to study the landscape as it slowly passed on the camera feed.

  “We sent the seeker around the perimeter of the area and found fences with gates closed. It’s been months since everyone either died or was concentrated. Even if this area has good grazing, it wouldn’t have supported this number of horses and cattle for that long, and you can see that there is still plenty of grass.”

  Rickards leaned forward, looking closely and indeed he could see that there was plenty of growth of some type. A vantage point sixty feet in the air made it difficult to tell exactly what kind it was. Martinez, realizing the captain’s difficulty, tapped a few keys, causing the scene to zoom in closer giving Rickards a sudden feeling of vertigo. The tall grass growing in the pasture became instantly visible, though he wasn’t sure if he’d have known what it was if Martinez hadn’t pointed it out.

  “Any sign of human habitation?”

  “Other than the structures, which were obviously there before the reorganization, we’re not seeing any humans.”

  “Well, then...” Rickards started, a frown creasing his face.

  Martinez hurried on, interrupting his superior in his haste to clarify his statement. “We did, however, find a large overhang in the cliff wall. It’s coming up in the video feed in a second.” Martinez paused, staring intently at the screen. “There, you see.” He pointed at a large dark area staining the bottom of the monitor.

  Examining the undefined shape in front of him Rickards could only take Martinez’ word that it was an overhang in the cliff wall.

  Martinez continued, tracing the shape with his finger and pointing to minute smaller light areas within the general darkness. “We think there is a structure built under this overhang, using it as walls and roof, similar to the Anasazi and Sinagua cliff dwellings. We can’t get any heat signatures from inside, but that could be due to the thickness of the walls if it’s made of adobe or rock and the people are at the back. It’s hard to tell, but it is late, and anyone living here might be asleep.”

  Martinez stopped and looked expectantly at Rickards.

  Rickards continued to study the screen, silently pondering his choices. If he sent the team out to this remote canyon and found nothing but cows, he could miss his chance to apprehend O’Reilly. However, the reverse was also true. If he failed to send the team, and it was O’Reilly hiding out in this camp, he could be giving him the chance he needed to make good his escape. Even with the seekers it would be a miracle if O’Reilly could be tracked for more than a short distance. O’Reilly knew how to avoid the seekers, and how to take them out if the chance arose. Rickards team didn’t have enough seekers to continually send ones out just to be destroyed.

  Finally, taking a deep breath, Rickards turned to Martinez. “Tomorrow, if the roads are dry enough, we head for this canyon... what’s it’s name?”

  “The maps say it’s a place called ‘Adobe Canyon.”

  “We head for Adobe Canyon as soon as possible. Use this time to plan our route. Understand? And just in case this isn’t O’Reilly, maintain the current search pattern. At least for the next few hours.”

&n
bsp; “Yes, sir.” Martinez nodded assent and turned back to his screen and began furiously tapping on the keyboard and scribbling notes on a nearby pad of paper.

  Rickards pushed himself out of his chair and stepped down out of the van. The other Enforcers seated in the circle became silent as they realized that Rickards had returned. They watched him expectantly as he studied each of them in turn.

  “Everyone needs to turn in,” Rickards stated, holding up his hand to forestall the questions that began to erupt from the deputies.

  “The seekers have found a site that looks probable. If the roads are decent we will head out in the morning, first light.” Thunder rumbled again in the distance, causing everyone to look northeast in the direction of the storm. Rickards grimaced. “If the roads are impassable for vehicles, we will send out scouts on foot and proceed as soon as we get the all clear. Understood?”

  The team nodded, a few of the men voicing their approval and understanding.

  “Good. Hit the sack then. Be ready to move at first light.”

  As the men began to pick up their things and head for their assigned tents, Rickards turned away and strode beyond the reach of the lights. Standing in the darkened road, studying the barely discernable landscape, lit intermittently by the moon as it passed from behind the clouds, he contemplated the next day’s activity.

  If all goes well, by this time tomorrow I could have O’Reilly in custody, Rickards thought. We take him by surprise, trap him in the canyon and finish it one way or the other. He’s only got four kids for back up and we’ve got an entire team, so it should be a piece of cake.

  A persistent niggling feeling in the pit of his stomach made him doubt that it would be that easy.

  33

  With every step, the jug of water felt like it added five more pounds. Of course, Christina thought, if the two-gallon jug weighed about seventeen pounds to begin with, and it added five pounds every step, she’d be carrying well over a thousand pounds by now, which was impossible. Still, the container seemed like it was unbelievably heavy, even though when she’d started it hadn’t seemed so bad.

  Christina stopped and set down the large plastic bottle, then with hands on hips took several deep breaths. She tilted her head back, trying to catch the breeze to cool her hot, sweat soaked face. Everyone had been hard at it since early that morning, one day after arriving at Hideaway. Moving, carrying, hiding, O’Reilly and the woman, Maggie Langton, had been in a frenzy of activity. Christina was sure it was because of her, her brothers and Alysa. From all indications, O’Reilly, Maggie, Mark and Lindy had been living here quite comfortably - well maybe not comfortably but safely - with no concerns of being found. Until Christina and her group arrived, of course.

  A twinge of guilt washed through her, quickly suppressed. It wasn’t her fault that everyone was in danger. No one could expect her to stay at the APZ, with the exception of the Enforcers, of course. How was she supposed to know that the chips that were implanted in everybody’s wrists actually enabled the residents to be tracked if they ran away?

  Not that anyone seemed to blame her. Maggie was kind, telling her she was glad they were there. Mark was just a neat kid, a lot like her brothers. There was something bothering him that no one talked about, but just like everyone else, he’d probably been through a lot in the last few months. Lindy was a sweetie, although Christina had never had much use for little kids. You couldn’t talk with them, really.

  At Wikieup, when O’Reilly told them about the micro chips, and how those little chunks of silicon would enable the Enforcers to find them if the software was working, he seemed concerned, but not angry that they came. When they told him about their escape, he actually appeared pretty impressed that they had managed to outwit the authorities and make it all the way to Wikieup on their own. He certainly didn’t act like he blamed her or the others for putting him in danger.

  Her fault or not, though, things seemed to be quickly entering siege mode.

  “Hey, Christy, are you coming?” Nick and Ryan were walking ahead of her, both holding a handle on a water jug, carrying it between them. Nick had turned back and was looking at her expectantly.

  “Yeah, I’m coming.” Christina took in a deep breath then bent to pick up her vessel again and started trudging through the long grass after the boys.

  It had been so nice to sleep in a bed last night, instead of on the ground. Then, this morning after being woken at an unbearably early hour by a psychotic rooster they called Houdini, everyone was told to pack their blankets and carry them to the caves. O’Reilly explained that they would be spending the next few days or weeks sleeping in the caves in case the Enforcers had been able to trace Christina and her group to Wikieup and decided to send out seekers over land to determine if they’d gone in this direction.

  Just a precaution, he said. No need to worry. Besides, it would be good practice.

  Yeah, right.

  Christina understood, but she was sure going to miss that old creaky bed tonight.

  Then there was that look that passed between O’Reilly and Maggie, and Mark’s obvious discomfort. While O’Reilly was telling them the reason for the temporary move, Mark started to speak, but a sharp look from O’Reilly and a sudden move from Maggie caused him to lapse into silence. Something was going on there, but she wasn’t sure what, and it made her uncomfortable.

  It really didn’t matter, however, what the actual reason for the move was, Christina decided. It was the results that counted, and the results of the move were that Alysa and Mark were assigned to help O’Reilly shift the cattle and horses up the canyon and to the east pasture. Christina, Ryan and Nick were set to work carrying water, food, bedding and other supplies to the caves. Maggie, after showing them the way to the caverns, was busy in the house, trying hard to make it look as though no one had been there for awhile.

  If it was just a precaution, it sure was an elaborate one.

  34

  For nine months out of the year you can’t get enough rain to put out a cigarette,

  Rickards thought morosely, watching the clouds build to the east as they had every afternoon for the past two days. The towering thunderheads portended another afternoon of impotence, just as much as it foretold another afternoon of rain.

  They’d hit one of those periods during the monsoons where the rain had been exceptionally heavy and widespread. A rain gauge they found in a yard in Wikieup measured nearly three inches yesterday alone, turning the small forest service and ranch roads around the town into a soupy mess. The steep forest service road that would take them to the top of the rim was especially hard hit. On top of that, it appeared that lightning struck their seeker, making it impossible for them to keep track of what was happening in the canyon until they could get there.

  The National Weather Service, one of the few national organizations that was on the priority list for the government to keep up and running, reported a hurricane had ventured across the Gulf of California, punching up a massive load of moisture before making landfall in northwestern Mexico. That moisture was quickly funneled into a trough between a high pressure system parked over the four corners area, and the low perched off Baja California.

  Results: huge amounts of rain in a short amount of time for much of the Southwest.

  Yeah, tell me about it, thought Rickards as he’d read the weather reports earlier that day.

  The only sun on the horizon, so to speak, was that the weather gurus were now predicting a drying period, beginning tomorrow while the highs and lows were busy readjusting themselves. With good luck, he should finally be able to get the full team to the canyon by the end of the day after tomorrow. Hopefully the rain had done its job on the fugitives as well, and they were holed up and completely unsuspecting.

  He had been able to get scouts out today, but the brief radio contact they’d been able to achieve indicated that the going was slow and arduous. Even the ATVs liberated from several homes in the area had bogged down several times. The scouts ha
d only managed to travel half of the distance to the canyon the seekers found, winding up spending the night at a small ranch camp, identified on the maps as Eagle Camp. Maybe tomorrow they’d be able to complete the journey. Depending on how much rain fell today.

  The scouts had discovered two trucks and stock trailers, loaded with supplies a few miles from town near the base of the steep rim escarpment lining much of the east side of Highway 93. Rickards was convinced that O’Reilly, having scavenged the stores for essential supplies, had stored them in the trailers and moved them out of town so that the annihilation teams wouldn’t discover and confiscate them. With the trailers safely out of town, he would be able to come back and collect the goods at his convenience.

  The discovery of the supply trailers parked along the road to Adobe Canyon convinced Rickards that his team was on the right trail, and that they would find what they were seeking in that small, secluded valley.

  We’ve got to get eyes in that canyon.

  Where the hell is the desert we’re supposed to be living in? Lately Rickards felt as if all of Arizona had been transported to some tropical island. Feeling a sharp sting, he slapped at a mosquito feasting off the blood in his neck.

  Damned rain, he thought as he stared at the building storm clouds.

  35

  We’re ready, thought Maggie, hands on h

  ips as she surveyed the front room of the little house. It didn’t exactly look the way it had when she and Mark had arrived several months ago. Only time would achieve that charming dilapidated, abandoned look that had greeted their eyes upon first surveying their new abode. However, the house no longer appeared as though people had been living there in the past week or so.