Tread Fearless: Survival & Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 4) (12 page)

Once Corbin was out of sight, and Marcus moved off to follow him from a short distance, Pete informed John that they’d need about thirty minutes to recon the river crossing. John acknowledged Pete’s plan and decided to use that time to refuel the vehicles and check fluid levels.

He was deep in a conversation with the women about the evening camp sight when he saw movement in the trees on the far end of the clearing. His hand went to his pistol, but he relaxed when Pete entered the clearing, followed by the two boys.

Everyone saw John’s reaction and turned to look, but Paul was the only one in the group to raise his weapon, a shotgun, to the low-ready. He too relaxed when he saw that it was Pete and the boys, but John was impressed with Paul’s alertness. He hoped everyone stayed that way for the duration of the trip, but he knew complacency was an enemy to
alertness. It concerned him more that Bonnie appeared to be the only woman to be carrying her pistol.

“Jenna, do you have your weapon on you?” asked John as he turned to look at his wife.

She nodded and lifted the edge of her shirt to reveal her holstered .380. “Thanks babe. Sorry I doubted you.” He then looked at Marissa and smiled. “You sure you don’t want to carry a pistol, Marissa?”

“I’m sure,” she said. “Probably just shoot myself in the foot with it.”

John grunted with a smile and looked at Abby. She was holding Michael’s hand, watching and listening to the conversation. “What about you, sweetie. You ready to carry?”

“I would love to, daddy, but with the kids and all, I think it’s better that I don’t. If I go anywhere alone I’ll take one with me though,” she added.

Pete and the boys joined the company as John was speaking to Abby. He continued to look at Abby for a moment, but then he turned to reply to the entire group, “It’s important that no one goes off alone. We’re still in the two-person, buddy system. Especially now that we’re . . . in the field, so to speak. We can’t afford to lose one person. So if you need to go off and do anything alone, you have to take someone with you.”

And Abby, you’re absolutely right about carrying a gun while tending to the kids, but that may have to change if the threat level increases. I’m inclined to give you a pistol now because you recognize the risk. And if you recognize the risk you’ll be careful. Still, you know where the guns are in a pinch. You’re a smart girl, and I’m proud of you.”

John turned to Pete and asked, “What’d you see?”

Pete nodded to Corbin and he began to deliver the report. “Sir, the bridge is a flat, two-lane surface about thirty feet above the water. It’s supported by concrete poles . . .”

“Pylons,” corrected Pete.

“Right . . . pylons. And it’s about three-hundred meters . . .” Corbin hesitated and looked to Pete.

Pete nodded and he continued. “It’s about three-hundred meters long, which is about a football field. There’s a guardrail, and heavy vegetation on the far side.”

John nodded and looked at Pete. Pete looked at Marcus and said, “Report.”

“Right,” said Marcus. “We saw no signs of enemy activity . . .”

“Enemy activity?” asked Marissa, more curious than concerned.

“That’s what we call them, ma’am. We call the bad guys . . . the enemy,” replied Marcus.

Marissa stifled a chuckle, but Bonnie wasn’t as strong. Jenna though it was cute too, and she smiled at Marcus.

“Did I say something funny?” asked Marcus.

“Continue your report, son,” said Paul, beaming at Marcus’ composure and serious demeanor.

“We saw no
enemy
activity on the far side,” said Marcus. “So I recommend we cross with one car . . . secure the far side . . . and signal the other two vehicles to cross quickly. Then we’ll keep moving without stopping, clear the area . . .” Marcus looked at Pete for another nod of approval, “And make for the first available and secure overnight spot.” He said the last part with enthusiasm, proud of himself for having delivered the message with a lot less help from Pete than he thought he would need.

“Excellent report,” said John. “Good work. What’s the SP time?”

Pete turned to the boys and waited for them to answer. “SP?” he queried. “The start point . . . the time the main party leaves the area.”

There were “Oohs” in unison, and Corbin replied, “In ten minutes. That is if you’re ready, sir.”

“I’m ready . . . we’re ready,” replied John. “And quit calling me sir.”

“But sir,” replied Corbin, obviously hurt that he was being scolded for assuming a proper military role with John.

John looked to Pete and saw him shake his head ever so slightly to the left, and then to the right. John turned back to Corbin and said, “Fine. You can call me sir until you get tired of it.”

Corbin and Marcus straightened and said, “Thank you, sir.”

Pete issued orders for the two boys to prepare the van for departure, and he stood with John a moment while everyone else left to conduct their own preparations. John watched the two boys walk away, they were patting each other on the back, and he said, “I’m impressed.”

“Me too,” said Pete. “I wish I could take all the credit, but Adam’s been doing a lot of work with them.”

“Is that why he stayed behind?” asked John.

“No, he stayed behind because I asked him to guard the camp. Besides, I know what he can do, and I wanted to observe Corbin and Marcus . . . watch them work together. I need to know if I can rely on them. I already know I can do that with Adam,” finished Pete.

John grunted and said, “Still, I never imagined things would turn out like this. I think we just might make it.”

“I hope so,” replied Pete. “I’m following a compass after all.”

John put a hand on Pete’s shoulder and said, “No you’re not. You’re following me. I’m the compass, remember.”

“You’re right,” said Pete. “The metal plate in your head.”

“Ha ha,” replied John. “How much of a lead do you need?”

“Five minutes, tops. But be ready to cross sooner. Just position at the turn out and come out when we radio. Then cross quickly with about a four car length between vehicles. We’ll be ready on the other side, and we’ll stay close until we stop. I did a map recon of the area, and I think I know the perfect spot for the night,” finished Pete.

“Route?” asked John.

“As soon as we cross the river, 677 becomes 89. We’ll keep heading due north over 32, and about a mile further up there’ll be a cluster of farm houses and barns. If we’re lucky we’ll find another abandoned property for the night.”

“Luck’s not a very good method of survival,” replied John.

“I know, but if they’re occupied, I figure we can barter for some temporary lodging. I think it’s worth the risk given the fact the sun’s going down and we need to settle in. This will be our first campsite, and I want to give everyone more time to set up.”

“You’re right. Makes sense to me,” replied John, as he pulled his pistol to check its status. “Actions on contact?” he asked, as he slipped the pistol back into the holstered at his hip.

“I don’t want to involve the boys in a shootout, but I also don’t want to spend the time reconnoitering the area. I think we should occupy the area by force. That’s why I want to form up across the border, and stay close until we pull in.”

Pete studied John’s face for support or opposition. Finding neither, he continued, “I think you should keep the truck behind you, so stop at the gate. The boys and I will drive in and position the van to provide cover. From there, I’ll approach the house while they cover me.”

“I want to be with the boys before you approach the door. Can you wait for me to catch up with the van on foot?” asked John.

“According to the map, the gate is about a hundred meters from the house. Would you rather just jump in the van and ride in with us?”

“I would. I can have Jenna drive the truck in when I signal. I’ll brief Paul with a contingency plan and we can roll out.”

“Alright, let’s get ready to roll, then,” replied Pete, and he left to gather the boys for a quick operational brief.

John briefed Paul and the wives, and with impressive speed the convoy was soon ready to depart. For some reason, John was more than a little concerned about Pete’s plan. He didn’t know why that was the case. He trusted Pete’s tactical abilities more than his own, but his desire to be with the boys when Pete approached the farmhouse was overwhelmingly powerful.

Once the vehicles were lined up, and a communications check completed, Pete pulled away and John looked at his watch. He would give Pete the five minutes he requested, as they had planned, and then begin his phase of the movement. But the thought that something was wrong, or that something would go wrong, weighed heavily upon him.

If he wasn’t already in the Suburban ready to roll, he would have stepped out to take a quick look around. But now that they were about to leave he couldn’t. Pete was already rolling, and he couldn’t delay the mission.

After pushing his dread aside, John signaled their departure command over the radio, and then pulled forward to set them at the turnoff. He didn’t know what was going to happen, he just hoped they could handle it.

CHAPTER 5

FORTRESS

E
d’s earlier comment about the church on the hill being a fortress wasn’t an idle boast, for it was more a fortress than Mark ever could have imagined given the timing. By the looks of the place, Mark figured the owner made prepper-like improvements to the building and surrounding area long before the disaster ever happened.

The hilltop offered superb defensive and tactical characteristics. It was what Mark called, “key terrain.” Whoever controlled the hill would not only be able to observe everything for miles around, and defend against ground assaults, but also quickly respond to local threats before they could even approach.

As far as he was concerned, it was the perfect place to establish a survival compound. The limestone outcropping the church sat on was more than fifty-feet high at its lowest point to the west, and at least fifteen feet before it sloped gradually down to an open pasture to the south. From the north, where John had his first look at the dark and smoldering remains of Austin, the hill shadowed over a slow moving creek more than a hundred feet below. The near vertical cliff to the creek made a dismounted approach from that direction virtually impossible.

That meant the only unobstructed vehicle access to the church was a road from the west. And it was narrow, barely even two-lanes wide as it climbed steeply up some two-hundred feet before settling down to a relatively flat hilltop of the first parking lot.

There were two parking lots that served churchgoers, each at a slightly different level from the church itself. The first, and largest of the parking lots, was large enough for 150 vehicles. The higher one
was smaller, closer to the church, and could park about eighty vehicles. Around the parking lots and the general border of the property, saw a variety of mature oak, cedar, and elm trees, as well as a mix of shrubs. The foliage served to create a natural blind that hid everything but the church building itself.

During his ride up to the compound in the back of the truck, Mark noted the details of the entrance, how it turned sharply off the I-35 access road at a clean ninety-degree angle. He was also impressed with the bunker someone built at the entrance. It sat about thirty feet up the road on the left, and was constructed with asymmetrically shaped limestone slabs, some up to two or more feet in length.

The various heights and widths of the stacked stone slabs reminded Mark of a decorative landscape feature. He figured it probably started as a fancy terrace for flowers and shrubs, but then someone smart decided to turn it into a bunker. With the inclusion of wooden beams for overhead cover, the bunker represented a formidable defensive position and access control point feature.

Mark’s view from the back of the truck was limited, but he still managed to discreetly surveil the four armed men manning the checkpoint. He glanced down at the road when the truck’s tires thumped solidly over what sounded like a thick branch. When the truck continued up the hill, Mark saw two men step out and raise a heavy, one-inch thick cable. They suspended it above the road on two, short, two-foot high wooden poles painted bright yellow.

To anchor the anti-vehicle cable, one end was secured around a large boulder that protruded from the side of the slope near the bunker. The other end was wrapped around the base of a large, mature oak tree and secured with cable clamps.

Though the cable looked like little more than a simple vehicle control measure, Mark knew it was strong enough to stop a dump truck. And given the drive’s grade and angle of approach, any approaching vehicle couldn’t build up enough speed to make a successful run at the cable and hope to pass through unmolested. As an added layer of
defense, the men also deployed two spike-strips, but Mark though it was unnecessary.

He also noticed men digging what appeared to be post holes near the bunker. Then, as the truck moved up the hill, Mark noticed two chain-link fence gates, a pile of steel fencing poles, and spools of barbed wire lying along the side of the road. Someone was taking steps to improve their personnel control measures. But what Mark couldn’t tell is if the fence was intended to keep people in the compound, or keep them out.