Tread Fearless: Survival & Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 4) (41 page)

Still, he relented, and like Lauren, he too put a considerable amount of trust in Sage’s ability to give them adequate early warning. The only thing that pleased Mark about the interruption was that he heard the intruder at the same time as Sage. “Take that, old dog,” he said to himself, and smiled.

With Sage on his mind, Mark wondered where their furry sentry had gone, or better yet, what he planned to do on his own. He just hoped he wouldn’t get himself shot. Mark paused to listen, and when he heard nothing, he continued moving off to the left, leaving Lauren alone with the children.

But Mark knew Lauren wasn’t entirely helpless either. Like him, she was armed. She wouldn’t display her pistol openly, but instead keep it hidden to use as a surprise, or as a last resort. Another crackle of brush to his right made Mark freeze in place.

Despite the fact that his target remained unseen, Mark could tell that he or she was uncomfortable and unfamiliar with moving around in the night. And as far as Mark was concerned, that was a good thing. Following another heavy footstep, and a few subtle grunts, Mark knew the intruder was a man. And by the sound of him, he was likely overweight, and not at all dressed for the outdoors. Every branch near the man seemed to snag his clothes as he walked, and everything under his feet signaled his heavy steps and direction of travel.

Mark waited a moment longer to let the man move closer to the fire, and wondered why he didn’t approach from the creek bed. But he reminded himself that he was dealing with a civilian, and not even
a hunter at that. Mark decided to approach the man from behind to ensure he was acting alone.

He heard the padding of dog feet and was surprised to see Sage coming toward him. “Smart dog,” thought Mark, as he patted Sage’s head when they stood together in the dark, looking toward the man as he continued to crash through the brush.

“Was it the boys’ father?” Mark wondered. He hoped so, and for more reasons than he cared to admit to himself, but the main reason was movement. He really wanted to keep moving, and the thought of caring for two young boys was very troubling. Finding their father would mean they could move on without having to worry about finding a place for the kids.

Sage followed after the man, and Mark followed Sage. The man was standing in the last bit of darkness before the edge of the clearing, out of the firelight, and apparently deciding how to approach Lauren and the kids. Now that he was backlit by the fire, Mark saw the man was of average height, of heavy build like he had guessed, and dressed in a business suit.

The man had to be the kids’ father. It was the only thing that made sense. Still, Mark had seen a lot of strange things since the disaster started. But why would a man, dressed in a suit, try to sneak up to a campfire at night without announcing his approach or intentions. Was he scared or up to no good? Regardless, Mark knew he would find out soon enough.

He got to within a few feet of the man, quietly drew his pistol, but then loudly clicked the hammer to its cocked position while saying, “I don’t know who you’re looking for mister, but don’t make any sudden moves and you won’t get hurt. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got a dog with me, a big one too. He’s hungry, and I’m thinking he would find you to be very tasty.” Sage growled right on cue and Mark yelled out to Lauren, “All clear. We’re coming in!”

Lauren replied, “Okay!” She sounded sure and confident, as if she knew everything would turn out just fine. It annoyed Mark a little that
she was so blasted confident. He wanted her to sound a little grateful and needy. But then he checked himself, and realized that’s not what he wanted at all. He didn’t want a needy, helpless woman. Lauren, he decided, was an enigma, and he wondered if he’d ever figure her out.

Mark said, “Walk toward the fire . . . nice and easy,” and he urged the man forward with a wave of his now shining flashlight beam.

“I didn’t mean to sneak up on you like this,” replied the forty-something, car-salesman looking man as he pushed the last few branches aside to step into the clearing. “I’m here for my kids. I see them over there. I thought they might be in danger, because of the fire and all.”

The kids grasped Lauren tight as the man approached the fire from the darkness. “Hold it right there,” ordered Mark.

“But they’re my kids. I want to see my boys,” he replied with concern mixed with excitement.

“It doesn’t look like they’re interested in seeing you,” said Mark. “Now turn around.” The man did as he was told, and Mark said, “If they’re your kids, then why’d you leave ‘em here alone?”

“I didn’t have a choice!” snapped the man, growing more agitated by the minute. “Look, they’re my kids!” He yelled and pointed to them. He tried to spin around, but tripped over a rock and fell hard on his rump.

Mark followed the man’s fall with his flashlight, and when he was down he played the intense beam across the man’s upturned and angry face. “What’s your name?” Mark asked.

The man covered his eyes with his dark-blue, pen-striped coat sleeve, and ignored Mark. He rolled over onto his hands and knees and began pushing himself up. Growing impatient with the man’s ignorance and indifference to his predicament, Mark stepped forward and pinned his ankle to the ground with his boot. The man moaned and Mark said, “I asked you your name.”

The guy was clearly unfamiliar with following orders, so Mark applied more pressure to the man’s ankle. “Ouch! Stop that!” he cried. “You’re hurting me!”

“I asked you a question, sir,” said Mark, and he lifted his boot and stood clear of the man. “Name!” he snapped.

“It’s none of your business,” the man replied, as he sat to rub his ankle. “What’s
your
name?” he billowed in anger, “because you’ll definitely be hearing from my lawyer!”

Mark calmed himself, and wondered if the man was from another planet. “You’re kidding me . . . right?” replied Mark.

“Give me your name and you’ll find out soon enough,” snapped the man, who was now so angry that he was literally frothing at the mouth. Spittle flew from his lips as he spoke to Mark.

Mark was done playing games with the fool, so he leaned forward with his flashlight arm and pushed the man flat on his back. The man raised his arms to cover his face, but Mark wasn’t interested in striking him, only finding the man’s identity. He already saw that the man didn’t carry a wallet in his pants, and hoped he could find one in his coat pocket.

After yanking open the man’s coat, Mark reached in and removed his wallet. “Hey! That’s mine!” he raged, but Mark pointed the gun at him and he stayed down.

“Louisiana. You’re going the wrong way . . . Brian Tanner,” said Mark, as he tossed the wallet back. It landed on Brian’s chest with a dull thump. The large leather billfold, packed with plastic cards and other common things found in a man’s business wallet, flopped open on his chest.

“It’s none of your business who I am, or where I’m going,” snapped Brian, as he grabbed his wallet and slipped it back into his jacket pocket. “It’s a free world in case you didn’t notice,” he replied angrily.

Mark grunted and said, “You mean a free country. The world’s not free, but then again, neither is the country any more. Don’t you have any idea what’s going on around you?”

“Can I stand up now?”

“No. Not until you answer a few questions,” said Mark.

“Yeah, well, I’m not talking to a kidnapper,” replied Brian.

“Look, pal, I’m losing my patience with you. Do you want your kids or not?”

“They’re not yours to give back,” he snapped, and pivoted on his butt to face the fire, effectively turning his back to Mark.

Mark shook his head in dismay and said, “Don’t move again.”

Still facing away from Mark, Brian taunted him by saying, “Or what? You’ll shoot me?”

Mark raised a hand to strike Brian’s head with the butt of his pistol, but Lauren quickly and firmly shouted, “Mark! No!” and he stopped in midair. Quickly, Mark began to return the pistol to his holster as Brian turned to see why Lauren had yelled. When he saw Mark slipping the gun back into the holster, Brian thought Mark was about to shoot him. He turned instantly pale and looked at Lauren with shock and surprise.

“Will you two please stop fighting? You’re frightening the children,” she said, now that she had both their attention.

Mark noticed that Archer, the younger of the two boys, was crying against Lauren’s chest. He began to realize that he had been in his own world, a world of fight or flight. And for him, everything was fight. He was about to pistol-whip an unarmed man, and thankfully Lauren stopped him. That would have screwed up everything. Mark walked over and dropped to the ground by the fire, taking up a position between Brian and Lauren.

He was acutely aware of the change in atmosphere, and asked Lauren, “Can you calm the boys while I talk to Brian?”

“I will, but please don’t hurt him.”

Mark sighed and said, “I won’t. We’re just going to talk a bit.”

Lauren nodded and stood. She led the boys away by their hands, and then sat a short distance away to try and sooth their troubled hearts and minds.

“We need to talk,” said Mark.

“I’m not talking to you . . . you’re just like all the rest. You tried to shoot me.”

“All the rest of what?” asked Mark. He wasn’t really interested in hearing Brian’s problems, but he was certainly interested in unraveling his story. Mark really wanted the kids to go with him, and he hoped beyond hope that the man could make that a reality. The last thing Mark wanted was to adopt two young boys. But he was also tired of all the delays. It felt as if John was slipping away from him. He was filled with a strong sense of urgency, and it continued to gnaw at him.

When he boiled it all down, Mark knew he was more annoyed by the delay than with Brian’s troubling behavior. He didn’t know why he just didn’t let him take the kids and leave. The entire encounter was strange and oddly toxic, as if he was being tested. He wondered what it was about their travel timeline that was driving him mad with impatience. He didn’t like it.

The bigger and most tangible problem, at least as far as Mark was concerned, was what to do with the kids if they didn’t want to go with Brian. Whatever happened, Mark hoped that Lauren could work her magic, and lighten their mood toward their dad considerably. They couldn’t travel with the boys.

Mark wasn’t a kid-hater, but he was on a mission, and taking the kids along with them didn’t make sense. He wondered if Lauren would test his resolve with them in such a way. She seemed to be soft on them, as was justified. She was the rational one at the moment. But he hoped she wouldn’t want to take the boys along. It would be a nightmare of movement and support.

Brian wiped his hands on his pants and said, “You think you’re powerful because you have a gun.”

“I’m powerful because I can adapt to changing environments,” Mark wanted to say, but instead he said, “We live in a new world, Brian. Your threat of lawyers, and talk of freedom and rights . . . it doesn’t mean anything right now. Don’t you see what’s going on around us? Don’t you see the mess we’re in right now?”

“It’s people like you that made this mess,” he replied, while crossing his legs and staring into the fire.

Mark snorted and said, “Is that what you think? That people with guns caused this disaster?”

“No. Of course not. But people like you made it worse.”

Mark snorted again and said, “Well, I don’t know what to tell you then. I haven’t started anything. In fact, I lost my wife to violence just the other day.”

Mark didn’t know why he called Lisa his wife, other than the fact that he thought it would be important for Brian to hear. Besides, they had been essentially common-law anyway, given the years they lived together. They had talked of marriage, and it felt like they were married, so it didn’t feel like a lie when he told Brian that Lisa was his wife.

“Your wife was killed?” said Brian in surprise. He then dropped his face into his hands and added, “My wife was killed, too. How many do you think . . . how many wives were . . . how many more wives will die before this is over?” said Brian, and he looked at Mark with eyes rimmed with tears.

“I ask that same question,” said Mark, as he grabbed a few dried branches from the pile near him and tossed them onto the dying fire. “And I apologize for my behavior,” he added. “But I wasn’t about to shoot you.”

Sage walked up and sat near the fire next to Mark. Brian sighed heavily and said, “Its okay. I know I upset you. I wanted to upset you. I scared my kids too. I took my anger out on them. They’re right to not want to come to me. I’ve been . . . I don’t know . . . really angry and reckless since my wife and daughter . . .” He gasped, unable to finish his sentence. He began sobbing and Mark didn’t interrupt him.

He understood Brian’s grief, even knew the pain of it. Mark remembered how lost and helpless he felt when Lisa died, how responsible he felt. Unlike Brian, he had turned his feelings inward.

“Brian,” said Mark, “you need to pull yourself together. You’re not the only survivor here. You’ve got the boys to consider.”

“You’re right,” sniffed Brian. “I need to get a grip.” After wiping his nose on his sleeve, he looked at Mark and said, “How did you cope with your loss?”

“I try to keep moving,” replied Mark. He let the words hang there, not wanting to discuss his pain or his plans with a stranger, and not really interested in talking more about Brian’s either. But talking was working, he was cracking through Brian’s defenses, and there was hope for them all. “Why are you here?” asked Mark.

“I don’t believe you want the entire story,” replied Brian.

“You’re right. I don’t. But I do want to know why you abandoned your kids,” said Mark.

Brian dropped his head to his hands and said, “I just thought it would be safer than having them walk with me along the side of the road.”

“And did you find what you were looking for?” Mark asked cynically.

“I couldn’t find any gas, if that’s what you mean,” said Brian. “That’s why I came back,” he added.

“So you
were
thinking about leaving them then,” accused Mark.