Tread Fearless: Survival & Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 4) (15 page)

For a reason entirely unclear to Mark, because it wasn’t like he was eating anything at the time, Ed came up behind him and began pounding him on the back with the flat of his hand. The blows were powerful, and not at all painful, but they certainly him breathe. Mark held up his hand and turned to stop Ed, but he turned so quickly that Ed was about to smack him again, only this time on the chest.

Mark grabbed Ed’s wrist before contact could be made, and the look of surprise on Ed’s face made Mark realize he revealed something about his speed and agility. “I’m okay,” said Mark, his voice still raspy. “Thanks, Ed. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Can I get you some water?” offered the woman from his vision, as she moved around the table behind Mark.

He didn’t want to turn around, but he did. It would be silly not to. Mark held up his hand again and said, “No . . . I’m fine. Thanks.” After another bout of heavy coughing, Mark said, “Swallowed my gum, is all.”

Their eyes met and locked on to each other, and in a scary second or two that followed, Mark thought she recognized him as well. Thankfully, she turned away and resumed her seat behind the computer without saying another word.

Ed somehow picked up on their odd behavior and asked, “Do you guys know each other?”

“What? No,” replied Mark.

At the same time, the woman said, “Yes . . . I mean no. He reminds me of someone I used to know, though,” she added.

“Yeah,” replied Mark. “Same here.” And they both looked at Ed.

Ed cleared his throat and said, “Right. Well then, I was asked to bring . . .”

Mark turned and extended his hand to the woman. “Hi. I’m Mark Phillips. It’s nice to meet you, Ms.?”

“Lauren Whiting,” she said while accepting his hand. “It’s nice to meet you . . . Mark.”

Mark held the hand shake longer than normal, and he was pleased to discover that Lauren didn’t seem to mind the long clasp. That told him she was already comfortable with him despite their awkward introduction.

“As I was saying, I was told to bring Mark in for a debriefing. After which he’s to meet with the sheriff.”

“So I’ve been told,” replied Lauren as she finally released Mark’s hand. “Thanks Ed, I’ll take it from here.”

Ed snorted and shook his head lightly. Mark knew Ed saw him make a connection with Lauren, but he didn’t understand it enough to share his curiosity. In fact, he wasn’t even prepared to accept the fact that this Lauren was the same woman he saw in his vision. It was way too strange to be coincidental. Ed finally looked at Mark and said, “I’ll meet you at the S1’s cubicle when you’re done here.” And with that, he smiled, waved, and left the cubicle without another word.

Lauren sat and stared up at Mark for a moment before offering him a seat with a polite hand gesture. As he pulled up a gray, metal folding chair, Mark literally felt her eyes drilling into him. She was studying him openly, deeply even, penetrating and probing him with her beautiful green eyes.

For a moment, Mark felt completely exposed and open, but then he was grateful for the connection between them regardless of how alien it was at first. He didn’t understand what was going on between them, so he decided to let her speak first.

But after watching her watching him, he was absolutely convinced that she was same woman he saw in his vision after burying Lisa. Even down to the army uniform. The shoulder patch was missing, but it was her alright. Same brown hair, same green eyes, same build. Lauren was the woman from his vision, and that both thrilled and frightened him. For whatever reason, she had literally fallen out of a tree and landed on his head, and he didn’t know what to make of it.

Mark didn’t know how or why, but he felt Lauren knew more about him than she was letting on. He wondered if she had a vision of him like he had of her. And if she did have a vision of him, how was she dealing with it? Would she ignore it and think the entire thing was too crazy to be real? Those, and many other questions raced through Mark’s head as he waited for Lauren to talk.

Lauren’s first words surprised Mark and made him sit back in his chair. “Who are you and why are you here?” she whispered, though she didn’t need to with all the background noise that filled the chapel.

“Beg your pardon?” asked Mark.

“You heard me, but I’ll make it simple . . . one question at a time. First off . . . who are you?”

“No need to get snippy,” replied Mark.

Lauren sighed and looked up at the ceiling as if pleading with God for strength. Mark didn’t know what else to say, and he didn’t care. He stared at her face, his eyes never turning away. She was beautiful, and powerful, and Mark felt helpless. He never met anyone like her before.

When her eyes settled back on Mark’s, he said, “I’ll tell you anything you want to know. I have no secrets. But before I begin, I want you to know that I saw you before today. Not in the flesh, but in a vision I had after I buried my girlfriend . . .”

“You buried your girlfriend? Why . . . what for?” demanded Lauren, as she pushed her chair back from the desk as if ready to shout for help.

“Relax,” snapped Mark. “She was killed by a gang that attacked my house. I couldn’t leave her laying out in the open. I buried her just before I left . . . before I saw you. I came here looking for you.” And as Mark said
those words, his feeling for Lisa surfaced and his eyes began to well up. He didn’t want Lauren to see him crying, so he lowered his face into the palms of his hands and willed himself to dry up enough to look at her again with some sense of dignity.

Lauren walked around the table, and after resting a hand on Mark’s shoulder, she knelt near him and said in a low voice, “This is not what I expected from my hero, but I’ve been waiting for you. I had a dream about you three months before the disaster. I wasn’t sure what it meant then, and I still don’t know what it means, but I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you found me.”

Mark looked up, no longer ashamed of any tears in his eyes, and asked, “Really? You saw me in a vision three months ago? I wasn’t even available then. What do you think it means?”

“I don’t know what it means,” replied Lauren, “but I know that we’re together now, so I’m sure we’ll figure out what that means eventually.”

Mark bravely placed a hand on her cheek as he spoke his next words carefully, almost reverently. “I’ll tell you one thing, Lauren Whiting, I’m not leaving here without you. I’ll go where you go,” said Mark.

Lauren put her hand over Mark’s and smiled. She leaned forward and they embraced like old friends. Mark enjoyed the smell and feel of her in his arms, and if he didn’t know better he’d say their connection was firmly set with that first hug. There was something about holding her that solidified their connection. He knew they were meant to be together, he just didn’t know why.

Someone walked passed the open cubicle and they quickly broke their hug and returned to their seats. Mark noticed Lauren wiping her eyes briefly, and he knew she felt the emotions of their coming together. To her credit, she said, “We have to take care of business first. We can talk later. For now, I need to know everything you can tell me about San Antonio and what you saw on your trip here. I’ll type as you talk, so keep talking until I stop you.”

Talking was easy for Mark, especially now that he knew who he was talking to. It seemed the weight of the world was literally lifted off his
shoulders in that moment of contact. For the first time in a long time, even before the disaster, Mark felt alive again, as if he discovered a long lost, hidden purpose to his life.

It was as if everything he had ever done, everything he had ever learned and experienced, had prepared him for this particular moment in time. He didn’t know what it all meant, but it felt right, and powerful, and he was afraid he would wake up from a dream.

As he told his story to Lauren, she would occasionally stop to ask him questions. Mark was familiar with seeing and reporting detail, but he found himself being purposefully vague in areas just to hear her talk. Lauren’s voice was music to his ears, and though he was turning into shapeless putty before her, he at least hoped she wouldn’t pick up on it and find him weak.

He watched her work; how her hands moved quickly over the small computer keyboard, and how she tucked her hair behind her ears when it fell across her face. But most of all, he liked how the light shined so brightly in her green eyes. Eyes to die for. He knew at that moment that he would – that he’d die for her. For reasons yet unclear to him, Mark knew they were bound together in fate, and he absolutely loved it. But what thrilled him the most was that he could tell she felt the same way. She didn’t say it, but he felt it.

CHAPTER 6

PENANCE

A
s soon as he stopped the van at the gate of the gravel road leading up to the farmhouse, their planned destination for the night, Pete instructed the boys to open the van’s sliding passenger door and make room for John. “Keep your eyes open and stay alert!” he barked, when he saw the boys looking back when they should have been looking forward. “You already know what’s behind you. I need you men to scan ahead for danger.”

They obediently complied with the order, and Pete waited patiently for the Suburban to pull up behind him and stop. He didn’t like the idea of occupying any objective by force, let alone their campsite, but he was comfortable with the plan and knew they could handle it if John was with them. He watched from the side mirror as John exited the Suburban and made his way to the van.

When John jumped in he said to Pete, “I asked Jenna and Paul to pull off to the side in case we have to make a quick withdraw.”

“Have you seen something?” asked Pete.

“No. Everything looks good from here,” replied John.

“That’s not what I meant,” replied Pete. He wanted to know if John looked the place over spiritually, to see if the property was safe to approach.

John immediately understood Pete’s question and wanted to ask, “How do you expect me to look while I’m driving?” but didn’t. The comment wouldn’t help the situation, so he let it go. Instead he said, “You’ve seen more than I have, brother. But I feel good about it . . . no feeling of an ambush.”

Pete nodded and said, “Good idea moving the vehicles in case we have to exit quickly. I should have thought of it.”

“You can’t think of everything. It’s why we’re a company. Now let’s do this before we lose our element of surprise,” added John, as he pushed the door all the way open to its locked position. He then turned to wink at Marcus who was sitting in the middle. Marcus grinned and gave John a quick thumb’s up, and then turned serious once again. He could feel their nervousness, that of the boys anyway, and John figured Pete was treating their approach as a near-real training exercise for them. He doubted it would come to flying lead, but he figured the boys didn’t know that.

John turned to look out the van’s back window as it accelerated, but supplies blocked his view so he leaned out the open door to see if Jenna had taken up the driver’s seat in the Suburban. He hoped she wouldn’t waste any time moving the truck, but he let it go and focused on the task in front of him.

Adam, sitting in the front passenger, was too focused to turn around and acknowledge his dad’s arrival, so John reached up and gave his son’s shoulder a quick, reassuring squeeze. Pete was making quick progress up the quarter-mile gravel driveway to the farmhouse. Dust was collecting in the van, but not enough to warrant closing the door. John looked at Corbin, but he too was entirely focused on his sector of fire to the left, and didn’t once glance John’s way.

John had never seen the boys so focused, and he wondered what Pete did to make them that way. Not that it mattered, he’d rather have them serious and ready to fight than playing around. In the short time since the disaster, they had aged well beyond their years. It made John feel sad for them, that they lost their childhood so quickly and ruthlessly.

Snapping himself out of his reverie, John turned his attention back to the farmhouse property. He took in as much detail as he could, ever alert for signs that something, anything, was amiss. The footprint for the house, barn, and other smaller out-buildings, occupied more than an acre near the front end of the farm. Several dozen pieces of old, rusty
farm equipment lay scattered about, which made the place look more like a used farm equipment lot than a working establishment.

An old and equally abused farm tractor sat near the barn, its engine cover removed to reveal more rust and neglect. The tall dried grass and weeds that had grown up around it told John it hadn’t been used in many years. Near it sat a riding lawnmower, its two front tires long since flat and cracked from the weather. Like the tractor, it hadn’t been used in a year of more.

Weeds and tall grass also lined the base of the modest, single-story home. Faded green siding, and dirty metal screens, made the house look like just another weed in a vast unkempt yard. The home’s neglected appearance confirmed to John that the property had either been long abandoned or ignored. John knew that didn’t mean the place was unoccupied. In fact, he felt a presence. There were people on the property, but he didn’t know how many. And there was something strange about the feeling he got from them, it was as if they were asleep, or deeply distracted. Either way, that would work to their favor.