The Defiant: An Unbeaten Path (3 page)

He leaned against a large rock and stretched out his right leg so he’d have blood flow easily to it. Looking at his heavily bandaged foot, he cracked a smile at his dumb luck. In his entire career as a Marine he hadn’t heard of very many people surviving a helicopter crash, but he had. He didn’t know the odds, but he figured if he had been successful with the odds while playing the lottery he’d be a millionaire, but what good would the money be now. He had been so fortunate that when his luck came, it had saved his life and put him in a position to go help his family. He loved the Marine Corps and his daily doubts about his not returning would come in waves, but what good was he or what kind of son was he if he couldn’t defend his family? He had joined the Marines for a variety of reasons, one of those being to protect his loved ones from the evil that existed in the world. But now that evil had descended on his country and his parents were threatened. He didn’t know how long he’d be dogged with these doubts, but the emotional tug of Idaho and his family won out every time.

It seemed so strange to look out on the rolling hills and see the modern world, but the sounds of that world were gone, almost as if someone had hit the mute button. His world was now filled with the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves. Occasionally he’d hear the familiar crack of gunfire, but it was always too far away to give him much concern.

He enjoyed the combination of the warm sun and cool breeze. There were many things he disliked about Southern California; one thing he loved was the weather. How could you beat it? he’d often mentioned before. He never understood those friends from eastern or Midwestern states who had both bad weather and bad politics. He often joked to those friends that if you were going to live in a place where your personal liberties were lessened, at least make it nice outside.

The one problem he found with his perch was the combination of warm sun and cool breeze would stoke his desire to nap. Again, he was fighting the feeling when a movement near the gate caught his attention. He opened his eyes wide but didn’t move anything else. Like a laser beam, he focused on the spot for minutes, but nothing moved. He began to wonder if he had imagined it. As more minutes passed, he came to the conclusion it had been a near-sleep dream.

“I swear I saw something,” he whispered under his breath as he placed his binoculars to his eyes. He scanned the area but saw nothing, He focused intently on the gate but saw no one or anything out of the norm. More minutes passed and just as he was about to give up, he saw the movement again. This time there was no doubt as he watched a young child scale the gate and jump into the compound, followed by a woman.

“I knew I wasn’t seeing shit,” he muttered. Reflexively he went to get up but was quickly reminded about his handicap. “This damn foot is such a pain in my ass.” Using a crutch and the rock, he lifted himself. Once steady, he began his slow descent. Every few feet, he’d stop and scan the compound, hoping to see their location and if anyone else had come over. Unfortunately, he hadn’t seen them since they came in and hadn’t seen anyone else.

With his current physical condition, it took him ten times as long to get down the hill and near the back door of the house. Sweat poured off his brow and streamed down his face. His T-shirt was soaked and his breathing was labored. At the back door he paused and listened for any signs they were close. Not hearing them, he turned the doorknob and slowly pushed it open. With as much speed as he could muster, he hopped inside, turned and ran directly into the young woman.

She screamed and pushed him hard.

Not able to get good footing, he tumbled and fell backwards. He hit the floor with a thud, the back of his head smacking against the hard wood.

The woman didn’t advance. With terror in her voice, she cried out, “Noah, get out of the house, hurry!”

Vincent could see the fear on her face but didn’t see her as a threat until she pulled out the pistol.

“You just lie right there; don’t think about attacking me. I’ll shoot you, I swear to you, don’t test me!”

Even if Vincent wanted to resist or stop her, he couldn’t. His splayed position on the floor prevented him from countering her. If she wanted to, she could kill him right there; however, he sensed she wasn’t a killer. “Please don’t shoot me. I’m not going to hurt you,” Vincent said, raising his hands, palms out towards her.

Her hands were shaking and sweat dripped off her glistening face. “We only came looking for medicine, that’s all. Now, you stay there so we can leave, okay?”

“Fine, that’s fine, but maybe I can help. Who needs medicine?”

Around the corner, a young boy, not seven years old, came sprinting.

“Noah, I told you to go!” the woman screamed.

“I, uh, I didn’t understand you. I thought you needed help!” Noah cried as he stopped in his tracks upon seeing Vincent.

“I won’t hurt you, and if you need help, you came to the right place,” Vincent called out, his hands still up.

“Do you have any antibiotics?” the woman asked, the muzzle of her pistol still aimed at Vincent.

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“I’ll take you there.”

“No, tell me where!” she screamed.

“It’s located in a cabinet and it’s locked.”

“Where are the keys?”

“I won’t hurt you and I know first aid.”

“Where are the keys?” she asked and took a step closer. “I’ll shoot you, I swear!”

“What good would that do you?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Why should you?”

“You can’t trust anyone these days, especially men.”

All Vincent could imagine was she had been hurt, maybe even raped. There could be no other reason for her skepticism.

He lowered his hand to dig in his pocket for the keys.

She pulled the trigger. A chunk of wall and sheet rock flew through the air. The loud shot hurt his ears and, from her expression, hers too.

Noah rapidly put his hands to his ears and moaned.

“Easy, damnit!” Vincent yelled.

“Put your hands back up, or I’ll shoot you next time!” she ordered.

“I was going into my pocket to get you the keys,” Vincent explained.

She furrowed her brow. “Go ahead, get the keys,” she said and motioned with the pistol.

Slowly he lowered his hand, dug into his pocket and pulled out a ring of keys. He tossed them over to her and said, “Look in the garage, third cabinet on the right. There’s a fridge in there. Take what you need.”

He then remembered he had emptied the refrigerator of most of the medicine save for fifteen bottles of prenatal vitamins, two bottles of melatonin and twenty packets of birth control. Items he didn’t imagine he’d need.

She squatted down, never taking the pistol off him, and picked up the keys. She looked at them, then him and asked, “How do I know you won’t follow me in there and do something?”

“I won’t and don’t even think about tying me up. I’ve given you the damn keys and my word. Go get what you want and get the hell out of here,” Vincent responded.

“Noah, here, go to the garage and find that fridge. Put every bottle of medicine you find in a bag. Call for me when you’re done.”

Noah approached and snatched the keys. He looked at the woman then turned his eyes to Vincent.

Vincent nodded and gave him a wink.

Noah returned Vincent’s nod with a slight one of his own, then turned and ran away just as fast as he had appeared.

“Thank you,” Vincent said as he rested his head on the floor.

“For what?” she asked.

“For not tying me up.”

“Who says I won’t do that?”

He looked up and saw a slight grin on her face.

“I don’t know what happened to you, but I’m not that guy. I’m actually one of the good ones.”

“No such thing.”

“Well whatever happened, I’m sorry it happened. The world has turned to shit, and soon you’ll come to realize that we good people have to stick together, because the lone wolf won’t survive.”

“Whatever.” She smirked.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Nunea.”

“Nunea?”

“Yeah, nunea damn business.”

He chuckled and once again rested his head back on the cool floor.

Minutes went by like hours.

“I got everything, Mom,” Noah hollered from further in the house.

“Looks like we have to say goodbye,” the woman said as she tucked the pistol in her waistband.

“Nice meeting you too,” Vincent said mockingly.

She turned around, and just before making the corner, she gave him one last look then disappeared.

By her heavy footfalls he could tell she was running away. He sat up and exhaled deeply. “I haven’t seen anyone in days, and when I do, they hold me up. You’re losing it, Vincent, you’re really losing it.”

Four miles southwest of Wellsville, Utah

“Can we take a short break?” Luke asked, bent over in exhaustion.

Nicholas, who was following Luke’s lead, stopped and said, “No, we keep moving.”

“My left foot hurts bad and my knee feels like it’s grinding against bone. Please, just a short break?” Luke pleaded.

Nicholas looked around. They were standing in an open area surrounded by a thick grove of tall shrubs and trees. Their visibility was ten to twelve feet at most.

“Give the boy a break. I could use one too,” Proctor added.

Nicholas leered at Proctor and kept surveying their surroundings. He didn’t like stopping where they were. In fact, he wished now he had put his foot down and refused to go on this fool’s mission. “I don’t want to stop. Let’s keep pressing forward.”

“One second,” Luke said as he began to put his left shoe back on.

“Hurry up,” Nicholas ordered; he pulled a gold pocket watch from his pants and with his thumb pressed the latch release. The shiny yellow gold popped open to reveal the white-faced watch and bold black hands. He glanced at the time and put the watch away quickly.

“Argh,” Luke grunted as he slid his shoe back on.

“Is your foot bleeding?” Proctor asked and approached Luke, who had ignored Nicholas and had sat down and removed his shoe.

“Yeah, some blisters burst,” Luke answered.

“For fuck’s sake, just suck it up. How far away do you think we are?”

Sweat streamed off Luke’s face. He again ignored Nicholas and took off his shoe for Proctor to examine his blisters.

“How far?” Nicholas pressed.

“A mile or so.”

“Or so?”

“Yeah.”

Proctor stripped off his pack and pulled out a first aid kit.

“That was cool. I haven’t seen anyone use an old-fashioned watch like that,” Luke commented.

Nicholas didn’t pay attention to Luke’s small talk.

Proctor pulled off Luke’s bloody sock and tossed it aside.

“Is he always grumpy?” Luke asked Proctor.

“He’s focused not grumpy,” Proctor replied.

“Hmm, seems grumpy to me. I was only asking him about his watch. It’s really cool.”

“He got it from his brother not two weeks before everything went to hell,” Proctor said.

“Let’s not discuss my private life,” Nicholas blurted out.

To the left of them, a branch cracked. Everyone grew silent and Nicholas leaned in and began to intently scan the area.

Proctor stopped giving aid and also looked in the direction the sound had come from.

The sound of leaves crunching then came from their right.

Nicholas put his rifle to his shoulder and pivoted around in that direction.

The expression on Proctor’s face turned to concern when he saw Nicholas spin around. He went to get up but was stopped when he felt cold metal pushed up under his chin. He froze and lowered his eyes to see the pistol in Luke’s hand.

“Don’t move,” Luke ordered.

Nicholas heard the commotion and turned. “I fucking knew it!” he blurted out and faced Luke and Proctor, rifle out in front of him. “Drop the gun.”

Loud crashing came from all directions.

“You’re surrounded; you’ll die if you try anything!” Luke exclaimed.

Nicholas could feel his blood boil and his instincts told him to begin firing. He then saw several men emerge from the shrub line. They were camouflaged and heavily armed. He placed his sights on each as they came forth, and the desire to start killing them was present, but he remained disciplined. He knew he couldn’t win this fight as he saw more and more break through and advance on him. By a rough count he was outnumbered by over dozen.

“Drop your rifle,” Luke ordered.

“I knew you were lying, I knew it,” Nicholas spat.

“I didn’t want to do this, I promise. They forced me. They said they’d kill my sister,” Luke responded in a weak attempt to have Nicholas understand his dilemma.

“I should fucking kill you right now,” Nicholas barked.

“You won’t be killing anyone, you understand,” a rough voice said behind Nicholas.

Nicholas felt the muzzle of a rifle pressed against the back of his head.

“Drop the rifle, now,” the man ordered.

“I’ll drop it,” Nicholas said calmly as he pointed his rifle to the sky and pulled the trigger, firing a single shot, hoping to signal the group that they were in trouble.

“Idiot!” the man barked.

Nicholas dropped the rifle, closed his eyes and waited for what was coming next.

The man quickly struck Nicholas with the butt of his rifle.

Nicholas grunted in pain and fell to the ground.

U.S. Highway 91, six miles southwest of Wellsville, Utah

The distant single crack of gunfire echoed off the hills surrounding them, giving everyone pause.

Becky looked up, her eyes wide in anticipation of hearing more shots, but none came.

Colin’s body tensed. He raised his rifle and readied for someone to burst from the tree line.

Bryn jumped up and, like Colin, prepared to do battle, her pistol drawn.

“Do you think that was them?” Becky asked.

“Hard to tell, but we have to assume it was,” Colin replied, his eyes still on the trees below.

“I agree with Colin. We have to assume it was,” Bryn commented.

“What do we do?” Becky asked.

“We wait,” Katherine declared.

Colin looked at his watch and said, “We wait for now, but we need to remain vigilant.”