Dux Bellorum (Future History of America Book 3) (20 page)

Erik looked north again.
 
He half expected to see headlights any second, signaling the mystery car’s return.
 
"I don't know.
 
If we step out on the road again and keep moving north, what happens if those guys come back in the car?
 
Look up the road," he said with a nod.
 
"There's no cover for at least half a mile—the next stand of trees is way down the road there.
 
We'd be sitting ducks out in the open until we reach them."

"And if we stay here?" she asked.

Erik shrugged.
 
"I don't know," he said, frustrated.
 
"I just don't know, okay?"
 
He took his helmet off and rubbed his forehead.
 
All he wanted to do was sleep.
 
He was even past the point of being hungry and thirsty.
 
He just wanted sleep.
 
He wanted to forget about the worries of the new world they found themselves in.
 
He wanted to stop thinking about who was going to kill them, or how they were going to get food or water, or if they would even live to see the next sunrise.
 
He just wanted to be home.
 
He wanted to be on his parents sailboat, cruising Lake Ticonderoga fishing in the afternoon.
 
He wanted to relax under his favorite oak tree behind his parents' house, reading a book in a hammock.
 
He wanted to stop worrying.

"I said, what are we going to do?" she repeated.

"I said
I don't know
," hissed Erik.
 
He regretted the tone of his voice immediately.
 
Brin looked like he'd physically slapped her.
 
She lowered her eyes and nodded, then shuffled back to the children.

"Brin, I…" he whispered, but it was no use—she was already out of hearing.

Erik turned his back to the rest of his group pounded his fist silently into the soft earth.
 
Indecision will get you killed just as fast as making the wrong decision.

Erik lifted his head up and stared at the smoke coming from town.

I thought we got further away than that.
 
The smoke didn't look any more than a few miles away, yet they'd been walking all day.
 
His back and shoulders ached, his feet hurt—the kids were exhausted.
 
He wasn't even sure how Lindsay still remained on her feet.
 
Brin carried more weight than Erik had ever seen someone her size carry and she did it in silence, too.
 

And here he was stressing over a simple choice: stay or go?
 
What would Ted do?

That smoke unsettled Erik, the more he looked at it.
 
Something was wrong.
 
He glanced at Lindsay and Teddy.
 
Something was really wrong.
 
He could feel it.

Okay, let's assume that something happened.
 
It's just us now—what do I do next?
 
Erik turned north again.
 
If we keep going that clump of trees up there is about as far as I think we'll be able to get before the storm hits—if the kids can even make it that far.
 
If the car doesn't come back and catch us in the open.
 
If somebody doesn't sprain an ankle on the way… If, if, if…

Erik sighed.
 
He ignored the murmurings behind him as Brin and the children chatted.
 
If we stay here, we'll be locked in one position.
 
We'll have to cover our tracks, go deeper into the woods.
 
Less sleep with no shelter, we'll be drenched if it rains.
 
Unless I start breaking off branches.
 
He looked up in the pine trees and thought back to the camping trips of his youth.
 
He’d learned to make expedient shelters out of whatever was at hand—branches, leaves, bits of trash.
 

At the time, the lessons had seemed ridiculous.
 
Everyone in his troop had a perfectly good tent with them.
 
Why was the scoutmaster making them dig through garbage and sleep under rotten branches?

 
The old man had just laughed and said
one day you'll thank me.
 
Erik smiled.
 
I'm not ready to thank you yet—you old bastard—but I can see how you were right
.
 

He still hadn't reached a decision, and that knowledge was beginning to eat away at him.
 
His stomach rumbled.
 
Or maybe that was just thunder.
 
He looked up and sighed—through the gaps in the canopy above, the clouds had darkened as the storm approached.
 
He was no meteorologist, but his gut told him they didn't have much time.

So.
 
What the hell do we do?

Erik's radio broke squelch and shattered his train of thought.
 
"Erik?
"

Even though the radio was set to its lowest volume, Ted's voice sounded as if he'd shouted in the relative silence at the edge of the forest.
 
Brin and the kids immediately quieted.

"Dad?" squeaked Lindsay.

"Daddy!" called out Teddy.

Erik whirled around.
 
"Guys, you gotta be quiet!" he hissed.

He pulled the radio off his vest and held it to his lips before pushing the transmit button.
 
He kept his eyes facing north, watching for the return of the car.
 
"Ted?
 
You okay?"

"I was about to ask the same thing of you?
 
How are my kids?"
he asked, his voice surprisingly relaxed.

"We're fine.
 
Where the hell are you?" Erik whispered.

"I'm just leaving town.
 
But hey, I got us some new wheels.
 
Where are you guys?"

Erik held the radio in his hand and looked at the kids.
 
Ted would never knowingly give away the location of his kids—he'd kill himself first, taking at least half a dozen people with him, if Erik knew the marine at all.

Goddammit, make a decision!
 
You've got to at least decide on
something
today!

Erik nodded to himself and pushed the transmit button.
 
"We're fine.
 
We're about…well, I don't really know how far we are north of town.
 
I can see the smoke though, so it looks like a good couple miles in the distance…"

Ted laughed.
 
"So you see that, do you?
 
I wondered."

"What is it?" asked Erik, fear rising in his throat.

"Did you think I'd really let those rednecks keep that matvee?"

"But how?
 
What'd you do?"

Ted laughed again.
 
"Let's just say Marines have a natural tendency toward blowing things up.”

Erik felt a grin crease his face for the first time in a long time.
 
"Sounds good.
 
Listen, a car drove past here about 15 minutes ago.
 
They went by slow, checking out the trees we're hiding in.
 
They're definitely looking for us."

"What kinda car?
 
Wait, nevermind.
 
It doesn't matter—not that many people on the road anymore, are there?
 
How many were in it?"

"As far as I could tell, the driver plus one.
 
Passenger had a long gun, driver had binoculars.
 
When they spotted the storm, they drove on north."

"Any sign of them since?"

Erik took another glance to the north.
 
No headlights, no movement.
 
The only thing he could see was the hazy smudge of green at the horizon signaling the tree line on either side of the road.
 
Unattended crops painted the landscape dull greens and browns.
 

"Nothing.
 
Soon as they pulled away from here, they sped up to the next clump trees, then slowed down again.
 
After that they disappeared."

Ted was silent for a moment.
 
When he spoke again, Erik heard the background roar of wind whistling past the vehicle.
 
"All right, that complicates things, but it wasn't unexpected.
 
I didn't think that son of a bitch would let us walk out of Dunham, anyway.
 
You guys find some good cover?"

Erik tried to ignore the ominous clouds rolling in.
 
Thunder echoed in the distance, a soft reminder of the violence to be visited upon them soon.
 
"Yeah, storm's almost on us and I think we've got a good spot to hide.
 
We're fixing to get wet, but we'll be safe enough."

"Well, I'm making pretty good time.
 
I'll be there as quick as I can, just keep watching for headlights.
 
When you see them from the south, radio me and I'll flick my hi-beams.
 
If you don't see that, stay hidden and be ready."

"Were you followed?" asked Erik.

"I don't think so.
 
It was kind of…chaotic.
 
But you never know."

Erik nodded again to himself.
 
He sat down and leaned his back against a pine tree as he reached for his canteen.
 
After a long swig of warm water, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pulled the radio to his lips again.
 
"Oh, by the way, you see that big oak tree on the right side of the road yet?
 
The one with the busted barbed wire fence right behind it?"

"No, not yet.
 
Although I have seen—wait—I think I see it up ahead.
 
Light's fading fast.
 
Yeah…yeah I think that's it, that's the biggest oak tree I've seen in a while."

"Okay, under some leaves and a branch behind it are about half of our supplies."

"What the hell, man?"

"The kids were getting tired and I've had to carry Teddy.
 
We couldn't carry everything at the same time, so we had to drop off some of it.
 
Just make sure you get it—it's really important to Lindsay."

He watched a small smile spread on the preteen's space.
 
Brin looked down at her and patted her head before wrapping an arm around the girl's shoulders and squeezing.
 
She tousled Teddy's hair and looked at Erik with a genuine smile on her face.
 
As quickly as it appeared, it vanished, as if she caught herself doing something she shouldn't.

Erik latched on to that image of his wife, surrounded by kids and seared it into his memory.
 
That was something they'd always wanted.
 
Happiness, peace, and children.
 
He turned away and closed his eyes, hoping to control the emotion that threatened to crack his voice.
 
He cleared his throat.
 

"Just hurry up, will you?
 
The kids really miss you."

When Ted spoke again, Erik heard a subtle
ding..ding
, signaling a car door had been opened.
 
"Roger that.
 
Tell them I'm on my way.
 
I just got to the oak tree, I'm gonna see if I can find your stuff and I'll be there in a few minutes."

"All right, I'll keep an eye out for that car to the north."

Erik moved back to the forward position underneath the front edge of the bush and lay on the ground, settling in with his rifle at his shoulder.
 

"You hear that guys?
 
Your Dad's going to be here soon.
 
And he's got a car."

"No more walking?" asked Lindsay.

"Hooray!" cheered Teddy.
 
His face crumpled.
 
"But no more pirates?"

Erik couldn't help but smile at the young boy's enthusiasm.
 
"That's right," he whispered.
 
No more walking.
 
But you can still look for pirates.
 
Just look out the windows."

As the storm drew closer, the surrounding light grew dimmer.
 
Movement to Erik's left caused him to look south.
 
Headlights appeared around the bend about a quarter mile away.
 
"Brin, headlights!
 
Get everybody down and keep quiet."

Erik pulled the radio free and whispered, "Headlights—I got lights to the south."

The lights winked off and on twice.
 
"Is it me?"
 
asked Ted.

Erik smiled.
 
"Yes it is—boy am I glad to see you again."
 
Erik shifted his eyes to the north out of habit, relief washing through his system and draining away the stress.
 
His breath caught in his throat.
 
A second set of headlights had appeared on the far horizon.
 
They blurred and shimmered in the distance winking as the car coming south traveled over the bumpy road.
 
Erik's hands shook as he gripped the radio.
 

"Ted hurry, the car's coming back from the north!"

"Distance?"

"How the hell should I know without a rangefinder?
 
I know they're as far off as they can be.
 
The lights are winking on and off like a mirage.
 
Bet they're driving through potholes."
 
He looked back south.
 
Ted's headlights had disappeared.