by Lopez, Rob
The closest cabin in the camp was over a hundred yards away. No door opened, and no footsteps came along the road. Sheathing his knife, Rick waited for Scott. Together the two climbed the bank, descended down the next slope and waded across the creek, moving in a wide circle behind the lodge. When they were in position, the lodge on the knob was silhouetted against the first light of dawn.
*
Lauren’s job was to provide the initial diversion. Give the raiders something to focus on, Rick had said.
She was also Rick’s backup if something went terribly wrong.
It wasn’t a role she relished. The plan was high-risk. The raiders knew they had lethal enemies now, and it wasn’t clear – to Lauren at least – how they’d react to an attack on their home turf. As the sun rose and color crept into the valley, she swept the compound with her scope. There was nothing to see, however. The raiders clearly weren’t early risers. Either that, or the place was empty. There were no vehicles around, so maybe they’d left.
Movement caught her eye, and a raider emerged from the lodge, walking down the steep steps with a bucket to get water from the creek.
Lauren nudged the nearest militiaman. He’d been drooping his head, as if falling asleep.
“Get ready,” she whispered to him. “Pass the word.”
The raider reached the foot of the knob and looked toward the road. Something seemed to be bothering him, and he paused. Lauren wasn’t sure what he was looking at, but she was focused on the watchtower, which was currently unmanned. She waited for the sentry to come out.
The raider with the bucket called out someone’s name, still looking toward the road. Slowly he put his bucket down and pulled his weapon forward on its sling.
“Nobody shoot until I do,” said Lauren to her troops.
A raider came out onto the lodge deck and began climbing the tower ladder. He stopped when he saw the raider at the bottom pointing his rifle. He called out, and the raider shouted something back to him.
Lauren didn’t bother listening in. Her target was clear. The range – according to Rick – was three hundred yards. Lauren hadn’t trained as a sniper. She didn’t know how to calculate windage, and her scope was too basic to click adjustments for range elevation. She settled for aiming just above the head of the sentry on the ladder. The range wasn’t excessive, but any amount of bullet drop would likely hit the target somewhere. If she could shoot accurately.
Propping the rifle on the rock as securely as she could, she slowly squeezed the trigger, keeping the pad of her finger moving in a straight line backwards. The slightest deviation left or right would be enough to ruin the shot.
The trigger moved back, and the mechanism snapped cleanly, releasing the shot. The sentry jerked and slipped a few rungs down the ladder.
The rest of her militia opened fire on the raider standing by his bucket. The ground kicked up around his feet and he took off. He was a big guy who appeared to have eaten well over the winter, and it couldn’t have been easy for him to fly up that slope the way he did, but the barrage of near misses lent wings to his feet, and he reached the lodge in record time.
Lauren, meanwhile, prepared her second shot. She wasn’t sure if she’d hit the sentry, but he’d fallen and was hanging upside down, his legs tangled in the ladder. As he struggled to free himself, Lauren took a breath, held it, and pulled the trigger. The rifle kicked, and a split second later, the sentry’s arms flew out and hung limp. That was when return fire began probing Lauren’s position.
Raiders appeared in the windows of the lodge, firing blindly into the foliage that masked the rocky outcrop. At long range, most of the shots fell low, and the militia were fairly safe behind the rocks. Nothing moved or fired from the rest of the compound. It appeared that the raiders’ numbers truly were depleted, and they were all sheltered in the lodge.
“Keep their attention on us,” called Lauren to her troops, “but do not, repeat, do not shoot at the windows. Our guys could be in there right now.”
*
The guys, Rick and Scott, were already moving. As soon as the first shot was fired, they made their way up the back slope of the lodge. The battle echoed around the valley, and as he got close to the building, Rick heard the muffled shouts of the raiders inside. The lodge was a long, single story building with shingle-faced walls. Those walls were being ineffectually hit by the militia across the valley, but it was enough to spook the raiders. At one end of the lodge was a solid door. Rick checked it, but it was locked. He nodded to Scott and stepped back.
Scott removed from his bag an aluminum foil package with wires attached. Opening the foil, he molded the explosive over the door handle and against the lock. Feeding the wires back around the corner, he connected them to the charger and spun the handle.
There was a deafening blast and the center of the door disintegrated. Rick raced around and kicked it in.
Clearing a building room by room was a specialist activity, requiring hard training and a lot of experience. Rick and Scott had both. Working in tandem, they moved down the smoky corridor, kicking doors in: one man covering, the other shooting. It was hoped that the raiders would be confused by the multiple noises, perhaps unable to believe they were being assaulted. They certainly wouldn’t believe they were being attacked by only two men. Neither Rick nor Scott cared. Acting clinically and mechanically, they emptied their magazines into every raider they found, shooting first with lightning-fast reflexes.
*
Across the valley, Lauren watched the carnage through her scope. Raiders would turn from their windows, gesticulating and aiming their weapons, the shadowed interior would be lit with a flickering tongue of fire, and raiders would fall. Then the scene would repeat in the next room.
“Everybody move,” yelled Lauren to her troops. “Go, go, go!”
Breaking cover, she slid down the slope and sprinted toward the lodge.
*
Rick had plugged his ears before entering. The cacophony rendered them useless anyway. In a hazy, slow-motion silent movie, he killed from one room to the next. He didn’t need to think about it: he was completely in the zone, swapping out empty magazines without even realizing. His heart rate was through the roof, but he didn’t notice that either. Everything he did felt fluid and right. Near misses and panicked shots from the raiders blew clouds of wood splinters around his head, but if nothing hit him, nothing stopped him, and he executed armed figures with deadly precision. Who those figures were mattered little. What they were doing mattered even less. If they were shooting at him, standing frozen or running away, they were all ticked off on his blistering to-do list. It was just another day at the office, and his rifle was simply a tool.
It was only when he reached the end of the building and there was no one left visibly to shoot that Rick took a breath and noticed how dry his mouth was. He glanced across to Scott, seeing the taut muscles of his face and neck, the same signs of hypertension he himself felt. The two exchanged a look: a quick acknowledgment that each was okay and that, once again, they’d made it.
The moment lasted less than a second. A spiral staircase to a basement level showed the building had yet to be fully cleared. The two went down, kicking in doors and scoping dark corners until they found a room with nine women sitting in candlelight, their shocked faces pale and drawn.
24
The news of the victory spread like wildfire through Bergen Mountain’s community. After hours of tense waiting, voices called out, and the shouts spread. At first Dee thought it was bad news, but then people started to holler and whoop. Packy entered the camp, strode up to April, bowed and said, “My Lady, you are called for.”
April wept after holding her fears in for too long. Smiling through her tears, she picked Daniel up and spun him around.
“Is it really okay?” she asked.
“Nah, everybody’s dead and I’m a ghost. Of course it’s okay. My lord and master requests your presence and that of the rug rats. Your carriage awaits.”
“Lizzy, go get Josh,” said April. “Oh my God, I can’t believe it’s over.”
“Yup. You can say goodbye to mud huts and outdoor living. Grab a piece of real estate fast before someone else seals the deal. I myself have an eye on some pretty hot property, so let us be gone.”
“And the raiders …?”
“We kicked their asses. Don’t worry about them. Are you coming or not? Jeez, it’s not like you’ve got to figure out what to wear. Time’s pressing.”
April turned to Dee. “Come with us,” she said.
Dee, surprised to even be thought of, hesitated. “Uhm, I don’t know.”
“Come on. For Jacob.”
“I only got four seats available,” said Packy.
“Do the rest of us get to go?” said Chuck.
“Bus will be along for you later, Pops. Ladies, please. If we don’t go now, someone else is going to get my place and I’m going to end up with some lousy hole. Don’t do this to me.”
*
Packy drove like the devil himself was about to steal his deal. Sitting in the back of the Blazer between Lizzy and Josh, Dee hung onto Jacob as Packy negotiated the bends. When they reached the ambush point where two burned-out vehicles blocked the way, Packy took the vehicle off-road, weaving through the trees and through a stream to bypass a blown culvert before bouncing back onto the road.
“You’re certain that Scott is okay?” asked April for the third time.
“Sure. Nobody got hurt. Crazy, right? You should have seen it. They were, like, mowing them down. Poor saps never stood a chance. Of course, our guys went through a hell of a lot of ammo. Rick tells me to replenish supplies, but seriously? Handloading that stuff takes time, and it ain’t cheap. That man does not understand supply and demand.”
They approached a log barricade in the road. Two militia guards flagged down the vehicle to check who was inside, then waved them on. Dee noted a sheet-covered body on the ground as they passed.
Packy drove to some cabins by a small lake and pulled over.
“Okay, folks,” he said. “Everybody out.”
The passengers got out of the vehicle and Packy immediately sped off.
Dee looked up to the lodge and the surrounding mountains. Bodies were being carried out of the lodge and Lauren stood on the deck shouting orders to militiamen wandering around the compound. By the lake the lilacs were in full bloom, rising above the weeds. Scott emerged from behind a cabin to embrace April and Daniel, a broad smile on his face. Lizzy ran up the steps to the lodge to greet her mother, with Josh following at a more dignified pace. Dee spun around slowly, taking in the cacophony of voices echoing around the valley. Gone were the muted, cautious tones of people afraid of discovery by bad men intent on doing them harm.
“I’ve got three shovels. Where do you want me to start digging?”
“Over there. Just dig one mass grave. Where’s Rick?”
“He’s checking out one of the trails.”
“I’ve found some more ammunition. Where do you want it?”
“Stack it here.”
“No, I want that stuff over by the lodge. Where’s Packy?”
“He’s checking out a house.”
“Get him back here. I need someone to get Sally. I want her to take a look at the women.”
“I’ll check in on them.”
“No. You’re a guy. I don’t want anyone going near that cabin until Sally gets here. Not after what they’ve been through.”
“What kind of guy do you think I am?”
“Doesn’t matter. They’ve been through an ordeal and the last thing they want to see is a guy with a gun. Trust me. If you want to make yourself useful, find some more shovels. I want that culvert filled in and the road to Camp Grier made safe.”
Ignored by everyone, Dee drifted over to the indicated cabin. She pushed the door open. Inside it was dark and dusty. There was an overwhelming smell of body odor. She couldn’t see any women, and for a moment wondered where they were. Then she noticed dirty faces staring at her from behind chairs and in the corners. Even now, they were trying to hide. As they all looked at Dee and her baby, she sensed their apprehension.
But she also recognized the trauma in their eyes. She knew what they were feeling, and understood their mistrust. Abused by the raiders for so long, they’d lost all hope that life could ever be different. It was a cathartic moment for Dee. As she turned a chair to face them and sank down into it, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders.
She was no longer alone.
“Hi,” she said.
Nine faces stared back until one summoned the courage to speak. “How long are we going to be kept here?”
Tears pricked Dee’s eyes, and her cynical wall melted away. “You’re not being kept. You’re free now.”
The speaker took a moment to digest this. “And who are you?”
“A friend. I want to tell you my story.”
“Why?”
“Because I know you’ll understand, and not judge.” The tears flowed freely down her cheeks. “And then I want to listen to yours.”
*
Sally arrived on the next ride. Shouldering her medical bag, she strode through all the activity in the camp until she found Lauren.
“You got my message, then,” said Lauren.
“Yeah, you said you had eight women.”
“Nine.”
Lauren nodded to the cabin across the compound and the two began walking.
“What are their injuries?” asked Sally.
“Uh, none.”
“None?”
“Not that I can see. It’s in their heads. Post-traumatic stress. I just want you to check them out before we take them back to their communities. Blood pressure, lowered immune system, that kind of thing. Maybe you can talk to them and put them at ease, listen to their problems, I don’t know.”
“Couldn’t you have done that?”
Lauren pulled a face. “I’m not good at that kind of thing. I thought you’d have experience of that as a nurse.”
“Sure, but I’ve got patients back at the mountain. If these women aren’t suffering from anything life-threatening, they can wait.”
“I know, maybe I shouldn’t have pulled you away, but when they came out of the lodge they were like zombies. And, uh, some of them might be pregnant.” Lauren stopped, sighing heavily. “They’ve been continually raped for months. Now that it’s over, I’m worried some of them might freak out. Maybe even commit suicide when they realize what’s growing inside them, you know? I, uh, think they need some care.”
Sally paused. “I’m not sure I can help with that. As a Christian, I can’t countenance abortion.” She pursed her lips. “Though emergency measures were taken when missionary nuns were raped in Africa, which I guess might set a precedent, but I’m not comfortable with it.”
“That’s not what I’m asking. Just some counseling and stuff. I don’t know. I didn’t predict this and I’m not sure what to do.”
“That makes two of us.”
April approached them. “How’s it going?” she asked.
“Good question,” said Lauren. “Sally’s going to take a look at the women we rescued, and hopefully make an assessment.”
“Don’t bother going in there yet. Dee’s with them.”
“Dee?”
“She’s been in there for an hour. I don’t know what they’re doing.”
“Oh my God, Dee’s the last person I want them to see. They’re traumatized enough already. They don’t need extra lessons.”
“Don’t be so hard on her,” rebuked April. “Dee’s probably the one who can connect with them the best. Think about it. She’s been through a similar experience.”
“I know, but I’d prefer a level-headed professional to talk to them first.”
“Well, that rules me out,” said Sally.
“No. You know what you’re doing. I’ve got more faith in you than Dee. She tried to sell us out. Chasing after her was
bad enough. I don’t want them all losing it at the same time and making a run for the hills.”
“Give her time,” said April. “You’ll see she’s got some good in her.”
Lauren gave her a pitying look.
“I don’t have time to stick around,” interjected Sally. “We’re moving the typhus cases down to a cabin at Camp Grier, and I want to oversee the transfer. I’ve got Packy waiting to take me back.”
“You’re right,” said Lauren. “Enough talk. Go right on in and see what you can do.”
Sally walked to the cabin, knocked once on the door and let herself in. She found Dee and the women sitting in a circle, like an alcoholics anonymous meeting. Some of them were hugging each other, and a woman cried while she told her story to the group. When it got difficult for her to talk, Dee took her hand and the others pressed in closer to comfort her.
Sally stepped back out of the cabin. “They look okay to me,” she told Lauren. “Dee’s got this.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. That’s a therapy session in there. Give them all the time and space they need. What Dee’s got going is stronger than any medicine I can give. I’ll come back again this evening.”
April gave Lauren a side glance as Sally hurried to the waiting car.
“Okay, I was wrong,” conceded Lauren.
April touched Lauren’s arm. “No, just cautious.” She smiled. “And a tough bitch.”
Lauren massaged her eyes. “I’m tired. That’s what it is. Give me a chance to sleep well tonight and I’ll be as sweet as Betty Crocker.”
“Really?”
“No, but I could be a little less crabby.”
25
The homestead was half-hidden in the hills near Weaverville, north of Asheville. It was a solidly built property made of stone and embedded into the earth of a sloping meadow, so that it was protected on three sides. A two-story house with a steel roof, it had an extensive frontage with a triple garage and shuttered windows with firing slits. A creek ran through the meadow close to the house. Livestock sheds and chicken coops sat farther down the slope, dug into the ground and easily covered by rifle fire from the house.
