Tread Fearless: Survival & Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 4) (31 page)

“Roger that,” said Pete, and he handed the radio back to Adam. Pete slowed to take a look around as they passed the company, but the white SUV was nowhere to be seen. Then, a hundred yards down the road, when they approached a bridge over a dry creek bed, Pete saw Paul climb up and over a guard rail. He waved at the van as it passed, and Marcus yelled out, “Hey dad!”

The company was back together again, but Pete had a bad feeling, as if they had crossed some kind of line. Why was FEMA chasing them? There had to be more important things to worry about than a few prepared refugees. And since when did FEMA have agents bent on causing bodily harm in the pursuit of what? Surely not some sort of collective survival project? A FEMA camp, fine, but chasing down a few traveling preppers? The world was falling farther and farther into deep craziness, and Pete wondered if they’d ever make it to Colorado, let alone find sanctuary.

The company continued traveling in a stair-step pattern along secondary roads, heading west for a while, then north, then west again, until
they reached E1910, a rural two-lane road that led them over Highway 81, and on toward the northern section of the Texas Panhandle. Their current path, highway 53, was smooth sailing, and they were making good time. After seeing only a few vehicles, and even fewer people, John decided to pull over to let Jenna drive for a while so he could study the maps.

He was studying the maps, looking for safe routes around every built up areas. After their run in with the FEMA agents, John was particularly concerned about pursuit, but it seemed no one was interested in them any longer. He reflected on his encounter with the agents, what he had learned from them, and wondered why that encounter was even necessary.

Concerned that he might have been a specific target, John learned from the lead FEMA agent that they were looking for anyone carrying large amounts of supplies, especially people crossing state lines. John laughed when he heard those words, and asked the man about their authority. According to the agent, the President of the United States authorized the formation of a special enforcement arm within FEMA. He said they were granted authority to seize, arrest and even punish anyone caught hording any life sustaining supplies. Being prepared, it seemed, was now illegal, and moving supplies, a felony. John told them he didn’t recognize their authority to act against his personal freedoms.

“I don’t care what you recognize,” said the older of the two men, as he twisted his neck to loosen his tie. He wore the uniform of an Oklahoma State Trooper, only his uniform was missing the state shoulder patch. John noticed the remnants of loose threads where the patch had once been sewn on, and realized that the government must have deputized many such law enforcement personnel to aid them in their effort to reestablish control.

It was terribly logical to John. With gasoline all but impossible to find, who would need highway patrol personnel for speed enforcement? Why not incorporate them into FEMA’s enforcement and security arm? They were already trained and ready to perform the job. While John
considered his options, the older man said, “You’re in a world of hurt for assaulting and detaining law enforcement officers.”

John looked at the younger partner, a man half his age, and obviously much more worried about his predicament than his older, paunchy, senior partner. The older man shook his head and looked at John while saying, “But if you let us go now, we’ll forget this ever happened.”

John ignored him, and actually felt a little sorry for him because he kept looking over his shoulder for the other white SUV. But John knew better. He wasn’t worried about it arriving. He knew Pete could handle it. Then, as he considered how to safely dispose of the two men, Jenna called from the Suburban, “Radio update just came in. You’ll want to take it.” He nodded to Paul, and Paul silently acknowledged his responsibility to cover the men with a nod in reply.

As he walked back to the Suburban, John realized how lucky they were. Taking the two agents had been much easier than he thought possible. Before the company had rolled to a stop, John instructed Paul on their smaller, short-range radios, to pull up close and to the left of the Suburban to conceal his exit from the vehicle.

When the white SUV pulled up behind Paul, John was already running toward it screaming, “Hands in the air!” while pointing his ready-to-fire assault rifle at them through the window.

Shocked and surprised, the two agents quickly threw up their hands. John ordered them out, stripped them of their weapons, and zip-tied their wrists. He knew the older man was hoping for the arrival of the other SUV, but being called to the radio by a calm Jenna was all he needed to know that Pete had taken care of the other vehicle.

After talking to Pete on the radio, John returned to the two men and said, “They’re not coming.”

Both men hung their heads, but it was the younger one who asked the big question, “What are you going to do with us now?”

“Stand up and follow me,” said John.

“But?” said the younger man.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” said John, “but I do intend to slow you down. Just do what I say and no one will get hurt.”

The two men followed John down a short embankment, and at the bottom he freed them from their bonds while Paul covered them with his shotgun. “Now strip!” John commanded. “Down to your socks and underclothing! Let’s go. I don’t have all day.”

The two men quickly stripped, and John zip-tied their hands and feet to the wire of the adjacent cattle fence. “You can’t leave us here like this,” said the older man. “Shut up, Jason. At least he’s not shooting us,” said the younger man.

“Don’t you tell me to shut up . . . you Nancy!” snapped the older man.

“Shut up, the both of you!” yelled Paul. “I swear . . . aren’t you guys partners?”

“Yes. Please do shut up,” said John. “As soon as we’re gone you can work yourself free and walk back to Cornish. It’s only a few miles back. From there you can find help. We’ll be taking care of your SUV though. And don’t try anything until we leave. I would love nothing more than to shoot you both, so don’t give me a reason.”

“We’ll find you,” said the older man.

“Tape,” John asked without looking at Paul.

Paul removed a piece of duct tape attached to the thigh of his pant leg and handed the dangling strip to John. John leaned forward to apply the strip of tape to the older man’s mouth, but the man suddenly shot forward and tried to head-butt John in the face. John was ready for the move, and he batted the man’s head aside with an open hand. He then drew back and punched the man hard on the nose. The man’s head shot back, and blood began to run from his nose, and his eyes began to water.

“Now listen to me, and listen well,” snapped John, as he grabbed the man’s right ear. “I’m letting you live because there’s been enough death around me lately. But if you try something like that again, I’ll shoot you and leave you here to feed the buzzards. Do you get me?” he finished, and twisted the man’s ear before releasing it.

The man nodded, and John leaned forward to tape him again, but instead of his mouth, he placed the strip of tape over the man’s eyes. John said, “I’m thinking you might need your mouth to breathe through for a while.” And after patting the tape down firmly over the man’s eyes, he added, “You can thank me later.” He then picked up the clothes and equipment and said to Paul, “Let’s go.”

After searching the SUV for useful supplies, John had Paul drive it to a dry creek bed a quarter mile up the road and ditch it. After negotiating the narrow trail along the side of the guardrail, Paul barreled it into a ditch under the roadway above. Satisfied the SUV was hidden from view, he flattened the four tires with his knife and climbed up to meet the company on the side of the road.

Just as he stepped over the guard rail, Pete drove by in the van. Paul heard his son yell out in happy surprise, and Paul waved in reply. But he was more concerned about the shattered rear window with a bullet hole in it. He didn’t know what had happened on Pete’s end of the encounter with the FEMA agents, but he was certain it didn’t turn out as quietly as theirs.

The company continued west on E1630, passing open farmland on rural roads. Sometimes the roadways were paved, and sometimes not, but they were smooth and free of obstacles. The company continued to move along nicely. John saw large patches of gray in a few of the fields on either side of them, and reasoned that rain had not yet passed through the area. Either that, or the north wind was still carrying ash in the air. It didn’t matter to him, only that they were moving in the right direction, and the ash wasn’t an obstacle.

By John’s reckoning, the company was now somewhere south of Hollis, Oklahoma, or about five miles from the Texas border again. The question on his mind wasn’t what direction to travel, but rather where to hide. He felt a strong and nearly irresistible need to find cover, and fast.
But where? They were surrounded by flat farmland, with not enough trees or vegetation to hide a single vehicle, let alone three of them.

“Red, this is Blue, over,” radioed John.

“Go ahead, Blue,” came Pete’s reply.

“I need a hat, and fast. Can’t explain, we just need one now.”

“Roger. Wait one, over,” replied Pete. “Okay, I’ve got one for you. You should see it in a minute, up ahead, on your left.”

“I see it. Good pick. Let’s do it,” replied John, and he pointed for Jenna’s sake.

“You’re talking about that barn? Why didn’t you just say that?” she puffed.

“Because someone may be monitoring all open channel radio communications. We can’t afford to give anyone clues about who we are, where we are, or what we’re doing,” said John.

“It’s all because of those FEMA guys, right? They’re probably looking for us,” said Jenna, as she gripped the steering wheel more tightly.

“We should have killed them,” said Bonnie from the back seat.

John sighed and said, “Killing isn’t always the best solution, Bonnie.”

“Pete killed his threat,” replied Bonnie.

The story of Pete’s actions with the second white SUV were known after their first toilet stop. John wasn’t one to question his friend’s tactics, but he thought it was a little heavy-handed, even in response to the single shot, and Adam’s use of Pete’s name in the open. Still, he probably would have acted the same way if he was in Pete’s situation. John knew he was the last person to pass judgment on Pete’s actions when he wasn’t even there. But killing two unarmed men was something else entirely.

“Still,” said Bonnie, “It would have made me feel better knowing they couldn’t identify us.”

“Bonnie,” said John, “Pete’s situation was entirely different from ours. I wasn’t about to shoot two men in cold blood. I don’t care if they knew everything about us. I won’t kill to protect a possibility . . . only in self-defense.”

“But they’re part of the same group that shot at Pete and the boys. I don’t understand you sometimes,” she replied tersely.

Jenna was about to reply, but John put a hand on her arm and said, “Bonnie, we’re a team, and I appreciate your candor. But I’ve killed a lot of people since this disaster started, and if I can help it, I won’t kill another. Taking someone’s life is not a trivial matter, and I know Pete did his work out of necessity. But he’s no more a killer than I am. Our judgment should not lean toward taking life, but rather sparing it. We’re not desperados.”

Bonnie and Jenna flinched at John’s unintentional reference to the former biker gang, but the point had been made, and so he let it go. He watched as Pete pulled the van into a large open lot lined with football field length rolls of wrapped hay. Off to one side sat parked and ready farming equipment, large pieces that were meant to handle huge tracts of land.

The hay barn before them was more a cover than a barn. It was several stories high, and more than large enough to hide their vehicles inside. Though open on all sides when empty, large hay bales were stacked to form high walls along the length of the barn. And with no doors to manage, the company drove straight in and parked. John pulled up next to Pete, and Paul parked behind him.

The three men gathered by the van and Pete asked, “What’s up? Something coming?”