Through the flames, p.13
Through the Flames, page 13
The back door of the ambulance opened and Josh spilled out. “He’s bleeding out, pretty bad. We need help in here.”
Rachel closed her eyes. Tom. Oh, I’m so sorry, Tom.
Chapter 30: Brenda
Nausea hadn’t hit Brenda in a few hours, not like it did rolling down the hill with the rocks crunching under the quads’ tires. The waves rolled over her, spotting her vision with black holes. She leaned her head to the side of the four-wheeler and threw up – well, nothing. She had nothing in her stomach to hurl. Maybe she was dehydrated.
Dehydration didn’t prevent dry heaves from racking her body.
David hadn’t moved as they’d driven past.
No one spoke or at least spoke loud enough to be heard over the roar of the engines. Down the driveway, out onto the road, past the drunken sign, and south toward Fernan, the ATVs caravanned. The further the group got from the compound, the more relaxed they seemed. Someone laughed. Another oohed at a squirrel, while yet another one pointed out deer scat on the side of the road.
Why would anyone be interested in deer poop?
Anxiety should have lessened for Brenda as they got closer to the house. Information overwhelmed her. She didn’t know where the other eight militia members were. She didn’t know what condition the kids would be in. She didn’t know exactly how long she’d been gone. And she didn’t know if she still had time to get the books in to Dilbeck.
She hated when plans didn’t go her way. Emotionally she didn’t know if she should cry or scream at the rollercoaster she’d been on for so long. Damn, she was ready to get off.
The dirt road transitioned to chip-sealed. The grinding turned to a hum as the tires clicked over the rough surface. The Rocky Mountain air carried a crisp zing to the temperature – one minute the sun warmed them, the next a cloud covered the yellow orb and sweat cooled at her hairline. Still, it could’ve been worse. Normal temperatures for that time bordered on either eighty plus or fifty-ish with rain and blustery wind. She’d take the high sixties and intermittent moodiness over either alternative.
At the intersection to the blacktopped Fernan Road, Brenda slowed and stopped. Cole drew up next to her and shut off the four-wheeler he’d commandeered. Others drew up where they could, and the cluster of motors hummed together and then stopped.
The sudden silence was deafening.
Brenda waited a moment for her ears to stop buzzing. She pointed down the road toward the lake, first. “I have to go to a house down there. Some children were abandoned and I need to make sure they’re okay. You can come with me, but it’s really just a rescue and retreat.” She pointed the opposite way. “There are places up that way. I don’t know exactly where and which ones are safe, but you could try.”
No one in the group reacted to either statement. They watched her, their gazes unwavering.
Brenda raised her eyebrows at Cole. He shrugged.
The outspoken woman’s lips tightened. “You said the real militia was out there and that if we wanted to help, we could.” She nodded her head. “We want to help.”
Had she? Brenda didn’t remember. A lot happened back in that clearing and for the most part, Brenda didn’t want to think about the things she’d discovered. But, they were Americans and they had the right to kick some ass, too. “Okay. I’m going to get the kids. They have to get somewhere safe. But after that I’m meeting the real militia in town. We’re a large party and I’m sure we’re going to attract attention, if we travel together.” Images of the three kids that had been shot and killed in Hayden when she’d escaped the gym a few nights before flashed across her mind. The people who’d attacked them were ruthless and thought of it as a game. Brenda had more lives on her conscience than she wanted... how much more could she handle before she lost it?
She didn’t wait for a reply. Enough options. Hell, what did she look like? A magnet for the needy? She wasn’t a damn leader. She didn’t want to be in charge. All she wanted was to get her nieces and nephews back to safety, help the other children she’d left them with, and get to town to help the militia with whatever information they could glean from Tom’s books.
Push aside the fact that she may be setting up her sister. That and the nausea which hadn’t receded.
Starting the four-wheeler, Brenda leaned toward Cole as he copied her actions. “I need you to take Kayli and Beau back to the cabin on your ride. Do you remember where to go?”
He nodded, his eyes downcast.
“Do you think you still need to go with the militia? Fight for something that might not even be there anymore? Or do you think you could handle helping to keep your family together as much as possible?” Brenda’s tough love worked on boys. Usually.
He shook his dark stubbly head. When Cole lifted his eyes, they shined with unshed tears. “Look, Aunt Brenda, I didn’t know. I thought they were the same ones Tom had spoken to. The real ones. I just want to get back home and see my mom.” His shoulders, while broad, had never seemed so small.
Brenda reached across the slight gap and squeezed his shoulder. “I get it. You need to understand that your mom isn’t home. She’s out searching for meds for your dad. Josh went to get Andy in the mountains and I came to get some information to the leader of the militia. I had to take your brother and sister with me, and now they’re at a house and have no food, water, or protection.” She slapped his arm and pointed down the road. “Let’s go get them, then you can go home and eat some of your mom’s leftovers.”
A slight smile on his mouth, he gunned the throttle. Brenda matched him and a torrent of rumbles followed them down the road. Trees turned to brush and Brenda recognized the line of brush-fencing of the property where she’d left the children.
She parked the four-wheeler on the driveway and turned off the engine. Without waiting for Cole or to see who had followed them down instead of going the other way toward safety, Brenda rushed up the front steps and through the shattered front door.
Freezing in the entryway, she oriented herself to the dim lighting. No noises greeted her. Nothing met her seeking gaze. A house with eight children in it should at least sound like something whispered in the walls. But only the wind whistling through the open windows and doors greeted her.
She crashed into the kitchen. What did she care if somebody heard her? She was a walking armory. Small pellets crunched under her feet with broken glass. They hadn’t been there before.
Brenda squeezed her fingers into fists. Maybe the kids still slept. The room she’d left them in was closed off from the world, light wouldn’t be able to get in. With the traumatic few days behind them and the small amount of trail-mix and fruit in their bellies, they just might be sleeping like the dead.
Ajar, the door’s position sent Brenda’s heart into a tailspin. They’d been out of the room, but who? Or maybe someone had gone in. If the kids had left the room, they most obviously left the house. But where would they go? And how would she find them?
She reached for the flashlight she’d tucked in her backpack. Two clicks from the clasps screamed at her. She pushed on the handle, the panel swinging inward and then stopping against a solid object.
The door didn’t make a sound.
Courage in low stores, Brenda lifted the flashlight and pushed the on button. An empty room sighed with her.
No dead bodies. For a second, the very real possibility of finding all eight kids dead would have fit her luck.
She leaned against the doorjamb. Now what?
“Aunt Brenda?” Cole rounded the corner into the kitchen, his steps slow and measured.
Fingers pressed to her forehead, she breathed in a steadying breath. The musty odor of the house hadn’t changed, but a sweet almost medicinal scent reminded her of something... something... She looked at Cole. “Yeah, doll?”
He blushed, the first sign he might be back to acting his age. “We found something you should probably see.” Forehead scrunched, he led the way out the front hall.
Brenda passed the open pantry door. Shelves glared at her in empty persecution. It seemed to say, “Where are the children I hid from danger?” Brenda pressed her lips together, before whispering, “I don’t know.”
In the front hall, Cole waited for her. She was almost there. Might as well take a few seconds and reclaim her contraband. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for a bar of chocolate or sleep. “I’ll be right there. I need to check on something.”
He nodded, but bit his lip and focused his gaze on people rushing past the deck. “Okay, but hurry. I haven’t seen it yet, but I think it might be important.”
Seen what? Brenda strode down the short hall and pushed through the bathroom door. The room looked the same as when she’d left it. Unless she included Kayli and Beau huddled against the wall clutching each other, eyes clenched shut.
Brenda knelt down beside them. Relief welled within her. They were safe. Oh, for the love... they were safe. She reached out and grabbed them in her arms, ignoring the soft squeaks they eeked out. “Come here. It’s me. You’re okay.” She rocked them. They recognized her voice and turned from each other to burrow their faces into her neck. “Sh. I’m here. You’re okay.”
Sobs pushed against her skin. Their small hands gripped folds of the shirt on her back. Beau pressed in so hard, his teeth scraped her collarbone.
Kayli pushed away, her grip firm on Brenda’s shirt. Swollen skin around her eyes testified of a long, drawn out cry. She hiccupped. “Aunt Brenda. You came back.” Sniff.
“Of course I came back. I said I would, remember?” Brenda’s stomach clenched. She’d abandoned them. Oh, hell, how could she have done that?
“But Mommy and Dad didn’t come back and they said they would. And I’ll never see Cole again.” Kayli’s huge eyes watched Brenda. Her swollen lips and reddened cheeks took at least a year off her already young six years.
Brenda heaved a sigh. She didn’t have an answer. Not an honest one. And while people berated her bristly bedside manner, at least she was honest. She slapped her hands on her legs. “Not yet they haven’t, but Cole is right outside. I brought him with me and a four-wheeler to ride on.”
Beau withdrew enough to meet her gaze, but not enough to release his grip from around her neck. “No more dirt bike?”
“No more dirt bike. Aren’t you glad? That thing was awful.” Brenda smiled as big as she could and pulled them in for another hug. “Okay, guys. I need to get something and then we can go outside, okay? Cole can take you home. Doesn’t that sound great? Maybe your mom and dad will be waiting for you.” Oh, please, let that be true.
They moved with reluctant stiltedness to wait in the doorway.
Retrieving the books took a fraction of the time as when she’d placed it. The need for stealth didn’t apply in the present circumstance. She dropped the tank lid to the floor. The hollow thud surprised a giggle from Beau. Kayli just smiled.
The books hadn’t been touched. Not that she’d expected them to be. Hell, she’d been gone, well less than a day, and kids would want nothing to do with the convo books. She didn’t, so why would they?
Tucked in her bag, the books added a solid weight of reassurance. She might not be a man, or have military experience, but she could do something to help in the fight against whoever the hell was attacking them.
She stood and swung the pack on her back. “Okay, let’s go, guys. Cole’s probably chomping at the bit to see you.” Brenda touched Kayli’s ratty hair. “Where are the other kids, Kay?”
Kayli and Beau grabbed hands and avoided Brenda’s gaze. Kayli shook her head.
Puzzled, Brenda watched them as they walked beside her in the hall, then to the front door.
A woman sobbed. One of the rescued teenagers leaned against the side of the house and heaved out of sight.
Cole stood on the outskirts of the gathering group. To the side of the driveway, partially hidden by the garage corner and more brush, the people had bunched around a small pile of something Brenda couldn’t make out. Cole’s raised a shaking hand to his pale face and covered his mouth.
Kayli broke free at the first glimpse of her older brother. “Cole!” Her squeal broke through the somber haze of the group and another woman cried out. “One’s alive.”
“Oh, thank the Lord.” A man raised his voice to the skies, his head thrown back and a finger pointed toward Beau. “Another one.”
What the hell was going on? Brenda grabbed Beau’s hand and steadied him down the stairs and across the graveled walkway.
Cole and Kayli embraced halfway to the cluster. He grabbed Brenda’s shirt and held on until she stopped. He shook his head. “Don’t take them.” He let go of her and yanked Beau into his other arm. Both kids clung like baby monkeys to their mother. Cole’s gaze had trained on Brenda and didn’t leave.
A few feet, that’s all it took, to shatter the safe illusion she’d bathed herself in since she found her niece and nephew.
The kids were dead. Their bodies piled one on top of another in a haphazard effort to recreate a funeral pyre. The charred edges of clothing screamed attempted burning, but in the damp Idaho mountains and off the lake, fire wouldn’t be easy to sustain without some heavy duty fire wood and kindling.
Flesh doesn’t cook easily.
Brenda backed away. She ignored the small eyes left open and gaping mouths on some. The hair and hollow cheeks burned in her memory alongside the images of the people being shot in the gym.
But she couldn’t faint. She had to be strong. They weren’t her children or even related to her. More than likely, their families were gone, dead, and the children would have died from hunger. However they’d died and ended up in the pile, the means was faster than starving to death.
No matter what she did, she couldn’t make anything about the situation positive. There was no spin to make it better. Brenda never would’ve made it in the psychology field. Stupid quacks blew happy smoke up their patients’ asses and then charged big time. Rachel had it easy. She’d never have to poke someone for blood or worse – tell a parent that their child wasn’t going to make it after extensive surgery. Yeah, sometimes Rachel pissed Brenda off.
But hell, a positive turn to finding children dead? When she was the one that left them? Not friggin’ likely.
She turned back to the remnants of her family. Sending them into the forest or making them come with her... into town – options she didn’t like. She’d never forgive herself if something else happened.
Chapter 31: Andy
“Most likely one of yous is going to be left here.” The driver had moved from his seat to stand in the doorway between the cab and the rear. He leaned his shoulder to the side, a smirk covering his stubbly face. “I hope it’s you.” He pointed at the new guy. “Foreigners are dicks and most likely you’re the one they’re after. That doctor bitch isn’t smart enough to do this all by herself.”
Andy looked from the battered man to the one fondling a holstered gun. Anger held his tongue. His burns had started burning again, and he didn’t know if he’d be able to hold back the cursing once he got started. He avoided Josh’s eyes. Of course, Josh would have a plan. Josh always had a plan and he always convinced Andy into acting on them, even if he only communicated with the lift of an eyebrow.
Accented English pattered the man in sharp staccatos. “Do you even know why they’re holding us?”
The driver tugged on his small goatee. “I know you and her worked together. I know you created tests that other people across the nation are suffering from.” He pointed his pinky finger, his features dark and angry in seconds. “I know that when Major Dilbeck reached another radioman on the east coast, he learned that they’ve been attacked by a hallucinogen that was dropped into the waters. Their drinking waters. Major Dilbeck said it was a bio-something method your team designed.” He stepped forward. “If I told these other guys who you are, would they be happy to let us do whatever we want? Maybe kick you out themselves?”
Josh stepped to the side, turning from Andy. He leaned his head to see Daniel’s face. “Man, who are you?”
The driver laughed. “He’s the doctor’s partner. He’s also working with NATO. He’s the one.” The man palmed his gun and fiddled with the clip, ejecting it, then slamming it back in. The movement taunted with brazen insolence.
Rachel’s partner had died on the island according to the pieces Andy had gleaned from her nightmares. He’d been a man – Daniel. And they’d been fairly close. Andy’s whisper cut over the click and slide of the clip. “Daniel?”
Andy’s fellow captive jerked his head sharply toward Josh and Andy. Surprise widened the uninjured eye. Daniel. The bastard was alive and had no idea that Rachel’s husband was inches from him. Andy bit his tongue. Suddenly his pain disappeared, and he strained against the cuffs linking him to Josh. Josh yanked him back.
The driver laughed, pointing at the men with his gun. “They seem to know about you. I can’t tell if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
Daniel relaxed his stance and shrugged one shoulder. “They don’t know all of it, or it’d be a good thing. But most of you Americans react before thinking things through.” Daniel chuckled. “You probably don’t even know how to shoot that thing.”
The driver’s face reddened. “The hell you say?” He flicked the barrel toward the ceiling, his finger tightening on the trigger. The body slipped from his fingers and he scrambled to catch the gun. A resounding bang echoed through the ambulance. “Son of a...” The driver reached his hand across his body and poked at the hole in his shoulder. The sight of the increasing blood caused his eyes to roll back. Andy squished into Josh and the driver slumped to the ground.
Andy stared at the fallen man. “Does anyone know what just happened?” The weight of the gun against his waist pressed a warning into Andy’s back. They might not have had a reason to be shackled – any of them – Josh, Daniel, even the shattered Tom who could barely breathe on his own – but when the other militia men found their driver bleeding on the floor of the ambulance and a gun on Andy, they’d have a reason then for repercussion.
