FEBRUARY 24, 2015 • • •

“Revenge is an act of passion; vengeance of justice. Injuries are revenged; crimes are avenged.”

—Samuel Johnson

Crescent, Oregon

Gordon woke for the second day in a row with a pounding headache, but this time it was the result of a hangover. He had spent most of the evening talking and drinking with Lexi. While Gordon’s first impression of Lexi was that she was rude, by the end of the evening he found her sincere and likeable. They shared their stories of the road, a few laughs, but most of the time their conversation was serious. Her sister had been executed at the hands of Rahab, in the same cruel way that Hunter was. She too was on the hunt for Rahab to avenge her sister’s murder.

In another twist of fate that struck him as spookily ironic, Lexi connected that she had met Samantha and Haley after she had left Rahab’s camp. She told him about the day Hunter was brought back, and how Samantha broke down. That was very difficult to hear. She also divulged details about their group—how many were left, the arrival of Nelson’s ex-fiancée, the tensions that existed. So much had happened to his group after he had been taken prisoner. By the end of the evening, his head was swimming with all of the new information.

Gordon heard someone snoring in the corner. He stood and walked over to discover one of the Marines. John, the owner of the bar, had allowed them to stay in exchange for a case of MREs—a not-so-cheap price in this modern world.

Gordon shook the Marine. “Hey, wake up, devil dog, reveille.”

The Marine corporal opened his eyes and said, “Shit, what time is it?”

“I have no idea, but let’s get some chow, talk some more with Lexi, and head out. We have a long day ahead of us.”

During the previous night’s discussion, he and Lexi shared with each other what they knew about Rahab’s possible location. John knew Rajneeshpuram referred to an old religious compound used in the 1980s, which helped to add context to the location. The map that Gordon had discovered at Rahab’s compound in California also proved helpful. With those facts, along with Lexi’s memory of overheard conversations, they pinpointed Rahab’s probable location: a small farm in north central Oregon, approximately 140 miles away.

Both he and Lexi joked how they were going to be the one to deal the final blow to Rahab. In some ways, their jest was serious. They were collaborating, but there was definitely a sense of competition between the two.

Gordon walked back to the men’s bathroom. When he opened it he found Lexi brushing her teeth.

She cocked her head and mumbled, “Mornin’, sunshine.”

She spit and said, “If all you have to do is piss, go ahead, you don’t have anything I’ve not seen before. By the way, you look how I feel. Like shit.”

“Uh, I’ll just wait till you’re done,” Gordon said, closing the door.

“Your choice,” she said as she began to brush her teeth again.

After relieving himself outside he came back into the bar to find Lexi laughing with Jones.

“Where’s Corporal Rubio?” Gordon asked Jones.

“He went to give McCamey a break on keeping guard,” Jones answered.

“Want some chow?” John asked from behind the bar. He held up a spatula. “I have some fresh eggs and some cans of corned beef hash.”

“Hell yeah!” Lexi chimed.

“Consider this a going-away present for you, little lady, but you guys… got any ammo you can spare?” John said, now pointing at Gordon and Jones.

“Really? You’re going to charge us?” Gordon asked.

“There ain’t handouts in this world!” Lexi laughed.

“Sorry, guys, that’s the price for some fresh eggs. Did I mention they’re organic, California boy?” John teased.

“Oh, come on, really?!” Gordon asked. “We can’t spare any ammo.”

Jones shot a look toward Gordon. “How much do you want, John?”

“A box of 9-millimeters gets you three hot meals. Hell, I’ll even toss in a Bloody Mary on the house. By the looks of it you could use it,” John chuckled.

“We’ve got plenty of rounds, Gordon. Trust me,” Jones said, patting him on the shoulder. He then looked at John and said, “Make mine over medium.”

· · ·

Gordon gazed out the windows as they drove. The snow-covered hills were beautiful against the light gray sky. Gordon took advantage of his time as a passenger to dream about the day he’d see Samantha and Haley. He missed them so much, and hearing Lexi describe their ordeal was heart-wrenching. Over and over, he thought about an ideal reunion scenario: he’d pull up to their cabin in McCall, and simultaneously the door would fly open, and Haley and Samantha would run out. They’d all embrace and laugh, and maybe shed some tears, but all would be forgiven. But he knew that’s not what would happen. Haley might come running out, but there was no doubt in his mind that Samantha was upset with him, and understandably so. He just hoped that time would heal the wounds that had been caused by his absence.

“Corporal Rubio, up ahead. We have a victor in the middle of the road and two people,” Jones called out. He was riding in the hatch, manning the M240 machine gun.

“Roger that, I see ’em,” Rubio responded. “Go ahead and stop, McCamey. Let’s get some eyes on this before we proceed.” He pulled out a pair of binoculars, scanning the scene, as McCamey brought the Hummer to a stop.

Gordon peeked over Rubio’s shoulder from the backseat. Next to him, Lexi was asleep, her head nestled in a crumpled-up jacket.

“Looks like a man and a woman. A couple, maybe?” Rubio handed the binos to Gordon to take a look. Gordon peered through and saw what looked like a couple having car trouble.

“Jonesy, you see anyone else up there?” Rubio called out.

“Corporal, I just see a young woman, she can’t be older than thirty, and a man, who looks about the same age. The hood of the car is up.”

“Corporal Rubio, where do you think we are?” Gordon asked.

“We’re about here,” he said, taking out a map and pointing at a county road just south of the state highway.

“That puts us how far from Rahab’s possible location?”

“My guess is about twenty miles along this road right here,” Rubio said, running his finger along a yellow highlighted line that led to a red circle.

“Hmm. You know what I’m thinking, right?” Gordon commented.

“Yeah, that this might be an ambush? I feel you. I tell you what. I’ll walk up to them and see what their story is. You and Jones cover me.”

Gordon thought for a second and said, “Roger that.”

Rubio exited the Hummer and began to walk down the muddy gravel road.

Gordon took up a position behind the open door with an M4. He watched what looked like a friendly conversation. Finally, Rubio waved and headed back to the vehicles.

“They’re cool, they ran out of fuel,” Rubio said as he walked up.

“Really? What’s up with the hood?” McCamey questioned.

“Don’t you know it’s an international distress signal?” Rubio shot back. “Boot.” He snickered. While Rubio and Jones were combat veterans of Afghanistan, McCamey hadn’t seen combat before. He was on his first deployment when the lights went out, and so he often encountered these types of comments.

“You sure everything looked okay?” Gordon queried.

“Yes, yes. Listen, not my first rodeo here, Mr. Van Zandt. These folks just need some fuel. We can spare enough for them to get them where they’re going,” Rubio answered. “McCamey, take us down there,” he ordered.

Gordon was uneasy but didn’t question the decision.

The Hummer rumbled its way slowly down the road and parked just behind the old Crown Victoria. From the condition of the vehicle, Gordon was surprised it was even drivable.

Rubio slammed the rear hatch, waking Lexi up. She yawned and looked around. “We here yet?”

“No, we came across some people who need help,” Gordon said, stepping out of the vehicle.

Lexi rubbed her eyes and looked through the windshield. Her expression changed instantly when she saw the man, but Gordon was already too far away for her to signal him.

Gordon waved hello and starting chatting. “So, why are you folks out here?”

The young woman smiled. “Oh, we have a ranch down the road.”

“Nice,” Rubio said.

Gordon took a closer look at the vehicle, taking note of an empty car seat inside. “You have children?”

“Yeah, a daughter. She’s back with her uncle,” the woman answered.

Gordon looked at them. They were dressed normally. Slightly dirty jeans, thick jackets, and beanie hats.

“So, Marines? Where are the rest of your guys?” she asked curiously.

“Most are back in Coos Bay; we’re out on a patrol.” Rubio motioned with his hand to the vehicle.

“Coos Bay?” she asked.

Gordon looked at her oddly, then eyed Rubio.

“It’s a small town along the coast, a few hundred miles away,” Rubio answered.

“So it’s just you?” the man asked referring to Rubio and the group.

“Just us out here,” Rubio answered.

Gordon shot back, “There are others not too far away though, just a short radio call away.”

“Sorry, fellas, if you don’t mind me ducking out for a second, I’m going to try and start this up again,” he said quickly, looking at the woman. Then he stepped away and got back inside the car.

Rubio and Gordon watched him quizzically. Gordon took a few steps so he could see him clearly sitting in the seat.

The woman, appearing nervous, started to ramble on about the weather. Rubio was peering through the rear window at the man, looking for anything unusual. The woman reached over and touched Rubio gently and said, “Ah, I’m Laura.”

Her touch distracted Rubio, who looked at her and said, “Oh, I’m Corporal Rubio, nice to meet you.”

These people looked innocent but Gordon was very skeptical. He kept scanning the area for a sign of anyone else. His instincts kept taking him back to a large grove of trees.

The slam of a door on the Humvee startled Gordon. He turned to see Lexi stomping over to them. She seemed focused and intent. He looked at her face. Her gaze was past him, toward the car. He followed it to see if she was seeing something he didn’t.

Lexi brushed by Gordon, moving quickly toward the front of the car with her pistol drawn at her side. She walked up to the driver’s door, opened it, and put her gun to the man’s head. “Remember me?”

Not saying another word, she pulled the trigger.

Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado

“Mr. President, the chopper is ready to take you,” Baxter said.

Conner finished loading his belongings into a few boxes. He was finally ready to leave the bunker fortress of Cheyenne Mountain. The place held nothing for him anymore. While the bunker did have luxuries others didn’t have on the outside, every time he walked the hallways, he was only reminded of Julia.

Those first few days after his return had changed him. At his lowest moment, he found himself holding a gun to his head. But something stopped him from pulling the trigger. He couldn’t explain, but he figured God had some other plan for him. He needed to return to his duties. That’s what Julia would have wanted. That moment was when he decided to come out of his self-imposed isolation. Being back on the outside would offer challenges, but he was ready for them. It was freeing, in a way.

“I’ll be right there. General, please make sure these boxes get on the next bird out,” he said to Baxter. Baxter had personally made all the arrangements with Governor Richard Laney of Wyoming.

Baxter proved himself trustworthy during his absence. He could have taken the presidency then and Conner probably would have welcomed it. Knowing that Baxter was a man loyal to his country and capable meant a lot to him. He kept note of those he could trust, specifically after the ordeal with Griswald.

Governor Laney was excited to hear that his state would house the new capital. He promised to give President Conner and the federal authorities all the support they could muster. Like most of the country, everything was down in Cheyenne and around Wyoming. The local power grid was still down, and not having electrical power had a cascading effect across the state. With no power, there was no flowing water, operational sewage, or communications. This power disruption, coupled with the fact that a vast number of the area’s vehicles were inoperable, left Cheyenne a dead city. However, Laney’s staff immediately made contact with Lieutenant General Wasserman, commander of F. E. Warren Air Force Base in Cheyenne, to establish control of the city. The Air Force provided critical support to Wyoming’s Department of Homeland Security, and even though they had limited working vehicles and equipment, they fortunately didn’t experience a total collapse as other cities had. Through this quick response and coordination, Cheyenne had a functioning government.

The fact that Cheyenne was a stable city made it easier for Conner to establish the capital he needed. It wasn’t his first choice, and getting supplies and equipment there would be a challenge, but for now, stability won out over easy access. Plus, F. E. Warren Air Force Base headquartered the Air Force’s Ninetieth Missile Wing and the Twentieth Air Force. They essentially commanded an arsenal of over 150 Minuteman ICBMs, a resource that was valuable to him. All of them were hardened against EMP, so were still operational.

Conner sat down at his desk and started opening up drawers to check for anything of importance that he might have forgotten. When he pulled the right top drawer a small notepad slid forward. On the front page there was a list entitled “Baby Names.” The pain he felt upon reading that was enormous. Angrily, he ripped the paper off the pad and crumpled it up, tossing it in the trash.

He left the room, and left a time in his life that forever changed his outlook on the world. When he had tossed away the crumpled paper, he had also tossed away the old Conner. Gone was the Conner that operated from impassioned beliefs. He hadn’t mentioned it to them, but if he could take back his order to nuke all of those cities, he would. He now regretted that decision, but he’d been operating out of fear. He left that fear behind too when he closed that door. He was still prepared to make the tough calls, but he next time he would try to see the long-term effects of a decision he made. His loss of fear transformed him.

Many at the base had commented about how different he was since his surprise return. He was now a more levelheaded and even-tempered man. In private conversations some had even gone as far as to express their happiness in his changed behavior. He was aware of some of the new sentiments about him and he welcomed them. His desire to be a new kind of leader was strong. He had a purpose greater than himself, and he was going to do what it took to see his country survive.

Sandy, Utah

Sebastian’s change of heart about bringing Annaliese along resulted in a bitter back and forth with Samuel. Their fight was an accumulation of weeks of animosity. If Sariah hadn’t intervened, the argument would have escalated to a fistfight. Samuel didn’t like Sebastian from the moment they had met. There wasn’t a real reason, he just didn’t like that a nonbeliever was living among them and that he and Annaliese had developed an intimate relationship. Samuel was a deeply devoted Mormon. He didn’t believe in the need to travel back east like others had done, but nonetheless, he didn’t think it healthy to have someone like Sebastian around. He was also a very controlling individual and Sebastian’s talents threatened his own. When Sariah described Sebastian over the radio before their trek there, he was eager to have him, but upon meeting him all he could see was a young, handsome, and charismatic man who was out to take Annaliese away. When Sebastian had originally said he was leaving he supported it, but now this new development proved his own deep-seated prejudices about Sebastian.

Eventually, after much discussion, Samuel acquiesced to Annaliese leaving, but under one condition: He insisted that they take Luke and Brandon along with them. Samuel looked at the boys as just snotty-nosed, spoiled brats.

Sebastian was doing his best about being available to the boys for counsel since he found them that day in Rancho Valentino weeks before. He talked to them as much as he could. Luke was a nice kid and easy, but Brandon had been acting out, and Samuel didn’t want him around anymore. This wasn’t the plan Sebastian had in mind, but he was desperate to put an end to the conversation and to get on the road as soon as possible. Plus, if there was one thing he took away from the Marine Corps, it was to adapt and overcome. He could make this situation work.

To Sebastian’s surprise, Samuel put aside his animosity and gave them a truck for their journey, a 1983 Ford F-150 crew cab, to replace the car that he had arrived in weeks before. For all of Samuel’s faults, being unprepared wasn’t one of them. Samuel had prepared for every event. Most of his equipment, including the truck, had been kept in massive protective bunkers. All of his spare equipment, like radios, GPS, generators, phones, even CD players, he had kept in faraday boxes to protect them against EMP bursts.

Samuel approached the truck and handed a paper to Sebastian. “Here, you’ll need these.”

“What is it?” Sebastian asked, unfolding the paper.

“It’s the coordinates for the people along the way who can provide support if you need it. The GPS in the truck is working fine; I haven’t experienced any issues when I’ve used it since the attacks.”

“Ahh, thanks, Samuel,” Sebastian said. “Hey, listen, I’m sorry we got off…”

Samuel took a step forward, so he stood just inches away from Sebastian’s face. “You can say your thanks but I don’t want to hear it. Listen, boy. When you leave, don’t come back, you understand? You have soiled the Sorenson family. I don’t want you here anymore. I’m only doing this because my sister asked me too. If it were up to me, I’d toss you out with nothing more than what you came with.”

Sebastian took a step back. Given the way the conversation went yesterday, he wasn’t shocked by Samuel’s attitude, but he was fed up. He had done nothing to harm Samuel or his family—in fact, they owed him their lives.

“Guess what, Samuel? We have no intention on coming back now. There’s nothing here for us. You take your bullshit and shove it up your ass,” he snarled.

Samuel’s eyes widened. “Pack up and leave now! You leave now!”

Annaliese came out of the house the instant she heard Samuel yell, with Brandon close behind her. “What is going on?” she called out.

“It’s fine, Anna. It’s time to go.” Sebastian turned and stepped away from Samuel.

“Turn tail and run, boy!” Samuel blurted out.

Annaliese could see the expression on Sebastian’s face change from irritation to anger.

“Sebastian!” she yelled out.

Sebastian heard her but he was too far gone. He turned and struck Samuel in the jaw with a well-placed punch. The old man reeled backward and fell flat on his back.

Brandon shouted, “Yeah! Kick his ass!”

“Enough, Samuel, enough!” Sebastian barked.

Samuel was dazed from the hit and scrambled back to his feet. He charged at Sebastian, but Sebastian quickly sidestepped him and pushed him. Samuel hit the ground face-first with a thud.

“Ha, ha! Get ’em, Sebastian!” Brandon cawed.

“Shut up!” Annaliese yelled at Brandon, running to break up the fight.

“Just stay down!” Sebastian yelled.

Samuel picked himself up again and was approaching Sebastian when Annaliese grabbed him. Instinctually he elbowed her, hitting her square in the face, with such force she was knocked off her feet. That was enough for Sebastian. He grabbed Samuel by the throat with his left hand and punched him with his right. Finally, the old man collapsed to the ground.

“Stop!” Annaliese screamed. Sebastian knelt down and struck him once more.

“Oh my God, he’s fucking up that old man!” Brandon laughed.

When Luke finally appeared from the house, he stopped in his tracks. He had seen Sebastian in action, but this was different. He wasn’t fighting to defend himself; he was unloading pent-up anger and stress.

Sariah pushed her way past the boys and ran over to Sebastian. She grabbed his arm tightly to prevent him from striking. Sebastian turned around with a crazed look in his eyes. He looked at Sariah, then looked at Samuel. The rage melted away and he let go of Samuel. Wearily, he got up and walked away.

Annaliese crawled over to Samuel and picked up his head.

Sariah yelled at the boys, “Get over here and help him into the house!”

Luke and Brandon came over immediately. Brandon still had a grin on his face as he bent over to pick up Samuel’s legs.

“Wipe that smile off your face, you evil little brat!” Sariah yelled as she smacked Brandon in the back of the head.

Annaliese and Sariah followed them inside, leaving Sebastian outside.

Sebastian walked down the gravel road and looked at the horizon. A throbbing pain began to emanate from his hand. He looked at his bloodied hand and rubbed his thumb across the cut and bruised knuckles. As he flexed his right hand he knew that the next few days would be painful, but not as painful as Samuel’s.

Sebastian began to look into his soul to find a deeper reason for why he acted out so violently. Samuel had been berating him since the day he had arrived there. The snide and rude comments, the cold stares. The uncomfortable meals where he’d not even speak to him and would mumble complaints under his breath. Normally one to keep his cool, Sebastian had reached his breaking point. There was only so much disrespect he could take. He did feel bad, but in some ways he felt justified in hitting him. No person needed to be treated in such a way. Not once had Samuel thanked him for bringing his family there safely. Not once had he ever mentioned anything of gratitude. It would have been nice to receive just one comment positively remarking on his sacrifice. Looking toward his hand, he regretted losing his temper, but he did feel a bit righteous.

The door swung open with a bang. Annaliese marched over to Sebastian and blurted out, “What the hell was that?”

Sebastian didn’t say anything, instead choosing to start loading gear into the truck.

“I know my uncle can be an ass, I’ve known him my whole life. But what you did to him was uncalled for,” she chastised him.

“Stop it!” he barked.

“Excuse me?” she responded, shocked by his demeanor.

“He had it coming. He’s treated me poorly from the day we arrived and he got what was coming to him. If you’re out here expecting me to apologize for kicking his ass, it’s not going to happen,” he snapped.

Annaliese didn’t know how to respond. Her instincts were to lay into him, but she saw that he was still very upset. He had hit Samuel more than needed, maybe, but she more than anyone knew that Samuel had been applying pressure relentlessly, every day. She thought about throwing another comment but cut herself short, knowing it wouldn’t accomplish what she wanted.

“I’ll be inside when you’re done loading,” she said, walking away.

As he watched her, he became overwhelmed with regret. This regret didn’t come from hitting Samuel but from a sense that he might have let her down. He tossed the sleeping bag he had in his hand and said, “Wait. Annaliese. How’s your face?”

Her hand touched her cheek. “I’ll live.”

“Come here,” he pleaded.

She hesitated for a moment, then walked up to him, stopping short of embrace.

“What?” she asked.

“I want to say I’m sorry for hitting him but it’s hard. He’s been so cruel, he’s like a bully.”

“I know, I know, but you’re younger and stronger than he is. If you had to hit him, all you needed to do was hit once. Not multiple times. My mother is so angry with you and you really disappointed me.”

“He had it coming—he hit you!”

“That was an accident. He didn’t mean to do it!” she snapped at him.

“Why are you so quick to forgive him of endless snide comments and his… he’s an asshole. I’m sorry, I can’t apologize to him. I’m sorry that you had to see that, but bullies need to be dealt with; that’s something my brother taught me years ago.”

“So you deal with family that way, you beat them?”

“Beat? He got a few love taps; what he does deserve is a beating! Again, you’re coming at me with the family bit and you let him get away with his behavior?” Sebastian asked, turning around.

“Don’t turn away from me!” she snapped.

“We need to get packed up if we’re leaving soon. Plus, I don’t have time to detail every action I make. You are so quick to forgive him but question me. You know me.”

“Do I? Do I know you? I’ve never seen you act out like that before. You are not that man. I agree you have a right to be mad with him, but he’s an old man!”

“Annaliese, let’s agree to disagree about this!”

Watching him toss gear and equipment around in the truck, she thought about saying something but stopped herself. Sebastian was right, for now they would have to agree to disagree. He was upset, she was upset, and the timing wasn’t right to find a resolution. She turned and walked back to the house.

Watching her walk briskly away from him, he leaned heavily against the truck. The stubborn Van Zandt blood ran through him and he was sorry that he had disappointed her. Making her angry wasn’t his intent; he loved her, but he also felt strongly that Samuel had it coming to him.

Tossing the small box he held in his hand, he said out loud, “This is going to be a long trip.”

Seventeen miles outside of Rajneeshpuram

Lexi’s gunshot blew off the side of the man’s head. Brain, skull, hair, and blood splattered the interior of the car. Not hesitating a moment, she trained the pistol on the woman and shouted, “Don’t fucking move or I’ll plant one in between your eyes.”

Gordon unslung his rifle and turned it on Lexi, but paused before pulling the trigger. “What the fuck, Lexi?!”

Rubio jumped, dropping the fuel can on the ground. “What the hell!”

McCamey and Jones had been quietly talking and keeping watch to the rear. When the shot broke the quiet, they instinctually took cover behind the Humvee.

“Where did that come from?” Jones asked.

“These are Rahab’s people! I recognized that piece of shit behind the wheel,” Lexi spat.

“Holy shit!” Rubio shouted. “Are you sure?”

“When you’ve been raped repeatedly by someone, you never forget their face,” she said bitterly.

Gordon still had his rifle aimed at her.

“Gordon, I’m on your side, put down your rifle. These assholes were going to ambush us farther down the road. If you don’t believe me, ask her,” Lexi said as she pressed the pistol firmly against the woman’s head.

“She’s right, there are more of us down the road,” the woman cried out. Gordon lowered his rifle.

“Get on the radio and tell them you need their help with someone you just killed,” Lexi ordered the woman.

The woman nodded and slowly walked past Lexi to the front of the car. Lexi kept the pistol pressed against her head as she leaned in and grabbed the bloody radio. She keyed the button and said, “Hi, Malcolm. We need some help up here.”

The radio crackled and a voice came over. “What happened?”

“It’s okay, we had to shoot someone. We need…” She paused out of fear.

Lexi pressed the barrel harder against her head.

“We need your help with the others. Brother Clarence has them at gunpoint.”

There was a pause before the radio crackled again. “Okay, we’ll be right there.”

“They’ll come from that direction,” the woman whispered, pointing ahead.

“How many are there?” Lexi asked.

“Um…”

“How many? Answer the fucking question!”

“Three, there’s three. Please don’t hurt me,” she begged.

“We won’t,” Gordon assured her.

Ignoring Gordon, Lexi hit the woman over the head with the pistol, knocking her out.

“What the hell, Lexi! Why did you do that?” Gordon yelled.

“We can’t trust that she won’t signal them,” Lexi shot back as she re-holstered her pistol. She grabbed the keys from the steering column and unlocked the trunk, then grabbed the woman and dragged her toward the rear of the car. “Well, are you going to help me?”

Rubio, Jones, and Gordon all exchanged looks.

“I told you she was a piece of work,” Jones quipped from behind the machine gun.

Rubio jumped up and helped her toss the woman in the back. They quickly came up with a plan, knowing that the backup was only minutes away. They decided that Jones would hide inside the Humvee and man the machine gun; Gordon, Rubio, Lexi, and McCamey all went to hide in the grove of trees. The plan was to use an L-shaped ambush. Based on what the woman had told them, they assumed the men would approach from the road ahead. When they stepped into the kill zone, Gordon and the others with him would open fire. The men would most assuredly turn toward them. Jones would then get behind the machine gun and take them out. This was textbook tactics, and if all went accordingly, it would be a relatively simple assault.

Minutes passed with no one in sight. Everything was quiet except for the occasional rustle of the trees when the cold wind blew.

“Damn it, where are they?” Gordon muttered to himself. He was getting the chills and his nose began to run from the cold air. His face was firmly placed against the stock of the rifle, his sights set on the rise in the road ahead. He kept blinking to clear his eyes and focus them.

Finally two men carrying rifles cleared the hill. The men were talking, and stopped just outside of the kill zone.

“Fuck,” Gordon said under his breath.

Lexi, positioned only a few feet away from Gordon, leaned over and whispered, “I’ve got the guy on the left.”

The radio in the car came to life. He and Lexi looked toward the car, not thirty feet away. Gordon then looked toward the men, and saw one of them holding a radio to his mouth. He knew they were attempting to reach the man or woman. “Where’s the third guy?” Gordon asked.

The radio again crackled.

The men stood talking. It was clear that they sensed something was wrong, because they unslung their rifles.

Knowing that this was not going to happen as planned, Gordon took aim on the man he saw holding the radio and began to squeeze the trigger. Before the shot went off, he said, “I’ve got the guy on the right, take the shot.”

Gordon continued to apply the steady pressure on the trigger. The 5.56-millimeter round exited his barrel and almost instantaneously hit the man in the chest with a loud thump. Lexi’s rifle followed right behind his with several shots, hitting the other man.

From the other side of the hill the third man appeared. He took a couple of shots in their direction before disappearing as quickly as he had appeared.

Lexi stood up and began to run for the Humvee. Gordon followed her lead.

“Jones, we gotta go!” she said, jumping behind the wheel and starting up the Humvee.

“Whoa, wait a minute!” Jones exclaimed.

“We don’t have time. We gotta catch that other fucker!”

Lexi put the Humvee and gear and hit the accelerator.

Gordon was running as hard as he could but he was too slow. Lexi drove past him without stopping.

“Stop!” Gordon screamed.

The red rear lights came on as she slammed on the breaks. “Get in!”

Gordon ran over and jumped in the passenger seat. She hit the accelerator again and took off.

“Hey, wait for the others!” Gordon yelled.

“No time!” she said as she tore up the road.

As they approached the top of the hill, the man she had shot started to rise from the ground. She floored the pedal and aimed the Humvee at him. He raised his arms as if that would protect him from a two-ton vehicle traveling at forty-five miles per hour and accelerating. Lexi hit him and didn’t stop. Gordon looked over at her, amazed at the ferocity in her eyes. “Gotta get the other one,” she muttered.

“There, straight ahead!” Jones hollered.

Forty feet in front of them, the third man was running down the center of the snow-covered gravel road. Hearing the Humvee behind him, he turned around and fired several shots, just missing the vehicle.

“Doesn’t this thing go faster?” Lexi yelled out in frustration.

Bullets pinged off of the Humvee as they drew closer to the man. He stood defiantly in the middle of the road.

“Open up on him!” Gordon commanded Jonesy. When there was no response, he turned and looked up in the hatch and saw Jones’s body bouncing around. One of the bullets had hit him. Gordon didn’t know how badly he was hit, but there was no time to do anything about it.

As they closed in on the man, he dove out of the way and rolled down an embankment.

Lexi slammed on the brakes. The force of the Humvee stopping caused Jones to fall into the vehicle.

Gordon took the opportunity to jump out of the vehicle and pursue the man on foot. He spotted him about fifty feet away, sprinting through an open field. There was no way he’d catch him now, but a well-placed shot could do the job. He ran over to one of the boulders and rested his rifle on top. Planting the rifle firmly on his shoulder, he took aim. He steadied his breathing and began to squeeze. The rifle went off, the round hitting the man squarely in the middle of his back. The man tumbled and disappeared into the tall grasses.

Lexi drove up to the spot where the man had landed and exited the vehicle. He was still alive, breathing shallowly, but Lexi would seal the deal.

She kicked him over onto his back. Another familiar face. Pulling out her pistol she yelled, “You recognize me? Huh?” She slammed her shoe into his ribs.

The man coughed and grunted each time she kicked his side, blood pooling around him.

“Please don’t, please,” he begged her.

“Those words sound familiar. That’s what my sister would say to you before you’d rape her, you fucking scumbag,” she screamed as she continued to at kick him.

The man screamed out, “Fuck you, bitch! You fucking whore!”

“That’s it! That sounds more like you!” she snarled as she kicked him several more times.

With each kick, Lexi could see her sister pleading with the men as he was pleading with her. Her sister’s pleas were mocked and sometimes intensified the men’s desire to harm her. Lexi would often tell her sister to just let it happen, but those words fell on deaf ears. Her sister’s resistance to men like him ultimately led to her own death. She started to break out in a sweat and her leg was getting tired from the repeated kicks to the man’s side.

He was now resigned to his fate and yelled out one expletive after another.

“Yeah, you got a dirty mouth, don’t you? You’re a dirty, nasty motherfucker!” She was in a full rage now. She stopped kicking him, aimed her pistol, and shot him in the crotch.

The man squealed out in pain and tried inching away from her.

“You’re not going anywhere. Come here,” she said as she straddled him and with her pistol and began to beat him.

Gordon had no plans of interfering with Lexi; he understood the need to deal directly with those who had harmed you. Instead he took to attending to Jones’s wounds. He had taken two rounds, one to his side and the other to his left arm. There was a lot of blood, but Gordon felt confident he’d survive. As he swiftly cleaned the wound he could hear Lexi beating the man with this pistol. The sound of skin being slapped gave way to crunching as the man’s skull caved in.

Lexi didn’t know how many times she hit him in the face but when she finally stopped there was no way of ever knowing what the man had looked like. A large, bloody crater now replaced where his face had been. She was exhausted, emotionally and physically drained. She looked up to the sky and let out a guttural scream.

Gordon walked over to her. “How did that feel?”

“Good… no, not good, that was fucking great!” she said. “Now, let’s go kill the rest of them.”

Eagle, Idaho

Samantha was very sore. Her body resembled how she felt inside, black and blue. She had never experienced anything like what she had gone through yesterday, and she barely slept all night, replaying it over and over. If there was one benefit to the situation, it was that the circumstances had opened her eyes to how she had been treating her daughter and her neighbors in the past few months. She had allowed her depression to almost kill her and possibly her daughter. She needed to do right by her, and by Nelson. Remembering the old saying, Fake it till you make it, she told herself that despite her physical and emotional pain, today would be the day that she changed her attitude.

Putting on her coat, she walked to a mirror. Examining her bruised face, she took a deep breath, then smiled. “Samantha, your little girl needs her mother. Now go.” She exited the warm house and walked into the chilly, dry air.

She opened the barn door and walked in. The musty smell was intense. She looked around, but could only hear them. “Hey, guys, where are you?” she called out hesitantly.

“Shh!” Haley blurted out.

“Back here with Big Mac,” Nelson answered.

She walked with her arms crossed, feeling nervous, like she was a stranger. She came to the last stall and saw Nelson brushing Macintosh, but no Haley.

“Hi,” she said shyly. “Um, I want to say I’m sorry for how I acted yesterday.”

He reached out and touched her arm. “Sam, there’s no need. I know you’ve been through a lot, we all have. I said some things to you that I’m sorry for too.”

“God no, I deserved it.”

“No one deserves anything. We need to stick together.”

They looked at each other, their eyes communicating an understanding that neither could voice.

“Where’s Haley?”

Nelson tilted his head toward a large pile of hay in the corner of the stall.

Samantha pointed and mouthed, “She’s in there?”

Nelson smiled and nodded.

Samantha said in a loud, theatrical tone, “I wonder where Haley is?” She entered the stall and walked around Macintosh till she reached the large pile of hay. “Hmm, well, since I can’t find her, maybe I’ll rest, ’cause I’m really tired. This pile of hay looks comfortable.” She flopped down.

Haley giggled from beneath the hay.

Sensing she could relax a bit, Samantha reached into the hay till she felt Haley’s little body. “Oh, no, there’s a monster in the hay. Nelson! Save me!”

Haley played along by growling. She rose out of the hay and jumped on her mother.

“Nelson, help me,” Samantha said, giggling.

Nelson watched as the two embraced each other and rolled in the hay. He smiled. This was the old Samantha he used to know.

“Um, guys, you might want to… oops, never mind. Too late,” Nelson said.

“What?” Samantha asked, hay sticking out of her hair and clothes.

“How do I say this…. You just rolled in horse poop.”

“Ahh, oh, no!” Samantha squealed, looking down at her jacket.

“Ha, ha, Mommy rolled in horse poopy!” Haley laughed. “Mommy, you stink!”

Samantha laughed out loud, then grabbed Haley. “Come here, time for you to get stinky too!”

Nelson was so happy to see Haley and Samantha connecting. It had been a long time since he’d seen Samantha smile.

This moment of happiness was interrupted when a cold blast of air shot through the barn as the main door opened up. Scott walked up to Nelson, concern in his eyes.

“Hey, Scott, what’s up?”

“Nelson, I need your help. There’s a group of men outside. They’re looking for someone.”

“Who are they looking for?”

“A guy named Raymond. From their description, it sounds like our visitor from yesterday.”

Nelson’s eyes widened. “What did you tell them?”

“Nothing, don’t worry. I’m not an idiot,” Scott remarked.

“Where are they now?”

Hearing Nelson and Scott’s urgent low tones, Samantha stuck her head out of the stall. “What’s going on?”

Scott looked uncomfortable and deferred to Nelson.

“There are some men outside and they’re looking for a guy that fits the description of you-know-who.”

“What did you tell them?” Samantha asked, clearly startled.

“Nothing, nothing at all. I know how sensitive this is and these guys look scary. I don’t want to know what they’ll do if they knew you killed the guy.”

“Nelson, what are we going to do?” Samantha asked, fear creeping into her voice.

“I’ve got this. You and Haley just stay in here, okay?” Nelson instructed. He grabbed his coat and started for the door.

Scott stopped Nelson before they exited. “There are four guys out here and I meant what I said about them looking scary. They look like bad news.”

“How did they get past the gate?”

“I don’t know. Mack was supposed to be manning it.”

“You carrying?”

“Always,” Scott said, opening up his jacket to reveal his holstered pistol.

Scott’s description of the men wasn’t an exaggeration. All four were in their thirties, with average builds. Three of them looked especially dirty, with greasy shoulder-length hair sticking out underneath beanie hats. The fourth man, who stood in front of the others, appeared to be the leader, by his swagger and bearing. His appearance set him apart from the others. His hair was cut short and his beard was trimmed, and he wore a large brown cowboy hat with two gold tassels.

Nelson stepped out with Scott and walked up to within a few feet of the group.

“Afternoon, gentlemen. Scott told me you’re looking for someone.”

The man with the hat answered. “Yes, maybe you can help us. I’m looking for my baby brother, Raymond.” Though he was clean cut, his mouth revealed stained yellow teeth.

“We haven’t had anyone here recently,” Nelson answered.

“Like I said,” Scott followed.

The man looked at both of them and asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Nelson said, trying to hide his nervousness.

“You mind if we look in the barn?”

“Yeah, I do. Listen, we haven’t seen a person named Raymond here. By the way, how did you get in here?” Nelson said.

Ignoring his question, the man leaned forward. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Nelson. And you are?”

“Nelson, I’m Truman Biggs.”

“Truman, I’m sorry you can’t find your brother, but like I said, he’s not here.”

Truman took a few steps forward and was now standing only a foot away from Nelson. “Nelson, I really need your help. You see, my brother, he can’t hold his liquor well. He’s been going on and on about this place. Specifically that a couple a lovely ladies lived here.” He paused, grinning. “Raymond has a bit of a problem when dealing with the ladies and he tends to drink too much. Oh, how do I put this, he doesn’t know the word no.”

Nelson began to size the men up. The tense exchange was heading in a direction that he feared would end in bloodshed. “Truman, I can appreciate that you’re looking for your brother, but he’s not here. I can tell you that. If we can help in any way…”

“You can help by not lying to me,” Truman said bluntly.

“How did you get in here?” Nelson asked.

“You guys have a nice little neighborhood here, but you have to watch the back door too,” Truman quipped. The other men laughed.

Nelson looked to Scott and returned his look with a raised eyebrow.

“Nelson, I assume you’re not from around here, are you? I don’t know if you know about snow like we have here in Idaho. How when it freezes over, you can see a person’s tracks for days. Well, we tracked my brother to this neighborhood, to that house,” Truman said, pointing to Nelson and Samantha’s house. “We have a place like this over the hill. My little brother was watching you guys. He would drone on and on about some little blonde here. Well, yesterday he got drunk and left my house saying he was going to get laid. That’s the last time I saw him. We tracked his footprints in the snow to that hill there, but then we noticed somethin’ a little suspicious. We can’t find his tracks back.”

Not knowing how to respond, Nelson nervously shot back, “You need to leave now, this is private property!”

The barn door opened and Haley ran out and grabbed Nelson’s hand.

“Haley, come back here!” Samantha commanded from inside the barn.

Nelson looked down at her and whispered, “You need to go back inside. Mind your mother and go, now.”

Haley had seen enough already to know that something bad was about to happen. “Leave us alone!” she yelled at the men.

Truman and his men looked at each other and laughed at Haley’s command.

“Oh my God, you’re so precious. What’s your name?”

Samantha marched out of the barn and grabbed Haley by the arm.

Truman laughed out loud and commented, “Is this my brother’s little blonde beauty?”

Samantha shot Truman a look and pulled Haley back inside the barn against her will.

“By the looks of her face, I’d say she likes it rough. Or did she get those bruises somewhere else?” Truman asked as he pulled back his coat to expose his holstered pistol. His men adjusted themselves and spread their stances.

Nelson swallowed hard. His vision narrowed and his palms began to sweat. His pistol was tucked in the small of his back and he tried to anticipate the best way to react. A fight was coming and the odds were not in his favor.

“Listen…” Nelson said, his voice cracking.

Then suddenly, like the Seventh Cavalry, a truck rumbled down the small street and pulled down the driveway just behind Truman and his men.

Both doors on the old pickup opened up and out came Mack and Eric. Nelson’s father, Frank, and another man who lived in the neighborhood jumped out of the bed.

“Nelson, is everything all right?” Eric asked, looking at the men. He had a shotgun in his hand.

“Eric, Mack, Dad, good to see you,” Nelson said.

“Where’s my brother? I’m not going to keep asking!” Truman exclaimed.

“These guys came here looking for someone, and we told them that no one has been here in weeks. They were just leaving,” Nelson said to Eric, answering his previous question.

Mack and Frank had spread apart and chosen their targets.

“Truman, I don’t know your brother nor have I seen him. Now please leave; this will not end up how you hoped it might,” Eric said.

Truman looked at Eric, then back to Nelson. He paused and said, “Guys, let’s keep looking for him.” He then walked up to Nelson and stood inches away. “I know he was here. If I find out he never left, there’ll be hell to pay.”

Nelson stared into Truman’s dark brown eyes and said, “If your brother was how you described him, maybe you should be looking in the closest ditch. Now, get out of here.”

Truman grimaced and motioned for his men to follow him.

“We’ll escort you gentlemen out the front,” Nelson quipped.

Eric nodded and said, “This way.”

Following Eric, Truman turned around one last time and winked at Nelson. It sent a chill up his spine.

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