Project Lazarus (40 page)

The man behind the wheel of the Sherriff’s car was two people in one.  As bullets flew, missiles fired explosives and fires burned round him, he remained steely calm.  It was his time in Vietnam that turned him from a wayward young man to a real man.

Most men who returned from war didn’t like talk about it.  Sherriff Trave’s didn’t talk about war- he never talked about war.  There was no distinction in his mind between those who came home and those who were left dead behind.  No matter how he reasoned it, in war and after war, all the participants were dead.  Scars either hit the body or the mind.

It was impossibly daring missions such as this one with Natalie Winston that got his blood and adrenalin flowing.  He liked it.  But secretly he liked the idea that with one false move, it might finally be over.  He would be dead just like the others.  Seeing all he had, that didn’t seem so bad.  He simply had one wish- the brave Natalie Winston lived.  Where the hell was she?                                                  

Sherriff Trave’s eyes darted back at the compound.  He didn‘t see her.  He started to think the worse.

He was sweating bullets.  There was a chance she wouldn’t make it out alive.  There was a chance he would die trying to find out.  He was resigned to the latter.  He wouldn’t leave Natalie behind. 

A decorated Veteran, he knew it was the greatest gift to lay down his life for another.  She was like the daughter he never had.  He had one son but he lost him too.  That was another war.

Natalie Winston had found herself in the middle of her own personal war.  The Sherriff knew her story.  She reported everyone else’s story but she only confided her story to him.  From day one she entered a war, the war of life and hers was a battle zone.  With a disabled brother and a torn apart family, she was needed by too many people.  It was writing the stories that gave her the hope she would one day be able to provide a better life and come home from the war or at least make it safe.

Sherriff Traves shuddered.  It was the military man in him that felt destruction. It permeated his skin, his soul and his mind.  It surrounded him.  It engulfed him.  It consumed him.  If Natalie didn’t show up soon, he might self-implode.

With each new sound of dire ruin, he made plans.  He knew the protocol would be to destroy the people and the town of Cotter.  His only goal was to get Natalie and himself out of the hell that surrounded them both.

He wasn’t aware of anything that occurred on the inside of the building.  He didn’t know the living dead had returned to the dead.  He only knew a massive cover up was under way and that meant something bad happened.

Natalie Winston was running so fast she literally flew out of the building.  Sherriff Traves could feel his instincts kick in.  He was ready to drive that vehicle out of there at any cost.  He assessed the situation.  She was very much alive.  She didn’t appear to be physically injured.  She was mobile, which was a very good thing in perilous situations.  No one was following her.  That was astonishing.  Best of all she was alert and on the run.  She spotted the car.  She spotted him.  She ran.

Her one downfall appeared to be the notepad in her hand.  Was she writing and running?  Could anyone do that?  Really?

The sight almost made Sherriff Traves laugh had he not been so determined to get them out of there alive.

She stopped for a second, turned around to face the building.

“No, no, no,” he muttered to himself, “what are you doing Natalie?”     

She put the notepad and her big bag on the ground.  She dug a small digital camera out of her purse.  She took the picture of the compound in what seemed like warp speed.  Sherriff Traves had never seen anyone take a picture so quickly.  This girl was driven.  She worshipped him but knew him well enough to know he wanted the same thing she did-the truth- the story.  Natalie Winston delivered.

Still writing and running at the same time now, the movement that darted from the left behind her caught his attention.

There was a figure of a man and he was pulling out a large pistol.

“Now, Natalie, now,” he screamed out the window.

She ducked and missed the first bullet.  She was several feet from the car.  She stood up.

“He’s gonna fire,” Sherriff Traves warned.

She ducked again, this time inches from the car, hitting the ground, she rolled and reached only her hand up to grab the car door handle.

Only when she pulled it open for cover, did she grapple to her feet.  Several bullets were flying now from several different guns and they barely missed her.

“Get them.”

Sherriff Traves heard the vocal man yell.  He turned the ignition, revved up the car and did a 180, all the smoke from the beat up car whisked in front of them like some movie.  Natalie Winston flashed back to a similar day.  It was one of the few times it snowed in Arkansas.  She was in high school and it quickly became a snow day, as the town was nowhere prepared for snow.  She spun out quickly on the icy road, back and forth she darted, until she did a complete 360 and ended in the ditch on the opposite side of the road.  She watched all the smoke catch up to the car and float in front of her window that day.  Her first thought was she was going to be in a very bad accident that day.  When she realized she was still alive, she calmed her nerves and slowly crept out of the ditch.  It was then, she knew, she was prepared to do anything in life.

It was a mad dash out of the woods, as a line of military tanks followed them out.  These were tanks that could travel at very high speeds, top of the line.  Sherriff Trave’s ditched the road and drove straight into the grass and created his own road through the trees.  It should’ve been easier for the tanks to navigate, as they weren’t as wide.  But the bumpy terrain, which Sherriff Traves counted on, proved the downfall of the mighty tanks.  He lost three of the vehicles and only one remained.

He didn’t know who was behind them.  He only knew they planned to kill them.

No words were exchanged, as he sped the vehicle through the wooded area.  Sharp turns both left and right, put the last tanker in the dust.

Finally, he could breathe.  He glanced at his fellow passenger.  She was alive and still scribbling in that darn notebook.  He couldn’t help but let a slow smile creep across his face.

“So what’s in the notebook?”  He asked.

“The whole story,” she answered and then paused, “thanks for saving my life.”

“I think you did that yourself.”

“Nope, you’re my guardian angel Sherriff.  I’ve got so much to tell you but first we have to bury these notes.”

He peered over.  She was jotting furiously.

“They’re covering it all up Natalie.”

“I know.”

“Bombing and burning.”

“I know.”

“I can’t guarantee we’ll make it out of here.”

“I know….that’s why we’ve got to bury the notes.  You can leave me behind if you want just take me to the spot on the map.”

She handed him the map.  She wanted to bury it the notes on old man Farmer Rivers' farmland.

“Old man Rivers farm?”  He questioned hesitantly at her plan.  He thought about it for a moment, he knew it led out to the next county.  It was actually perfect he thought.

“You know how I did that article on the corn festival a couple of years back.  I swear farmer Rivers was a difficult interview.  He was very matter of fact, didn’t say much….let’s just say I didn’t have a whole lot of quotes in that article.”

“You think he’s alive?  He knows a way out?  Is that it?”  The Sherriff’s mind was spinning.  Why this particular farm?

“He didn’t like to talk much but he gave me one heck of a tour of that farm.  And I have no idea if he’s still alive.  All I know is Rivers has a definite way out- one nobody knows.”

“I’m interested,” Sherriff Traves said now driving in the direction of the farm.

“Would you believe, he’s a bit of an underground survivalist type?  He would never call himself that of course, he probably doesn’t even know what it means.  But a weird thing happened.  He was so pissed when the county decided to extend more of the highway leading to the next town across the back of his property.  I mean the farm was in the family for years.  He decided to get even and have a good escape route.  He built a back road through his property.  It’s gravel. It’s rogue.  It’s a death pit I suppose.  But nobody knows about it.”

“Nobody?  Not the town board?  Not the police? Really?”

“Just you, me, Mr. Farmers and the wind.”

“Suddenly, I feel a whole lot better,” he said staring at the rear view mirror.  No one was behind them.  The silence was thick and aside from everything they had been through in cotter, the ride in the car out to Rivers Farm felt like a nice ride in the country.

“You went to a lot of town board meetings?”

“Yes, lots of town board meetings,” she confirmed.

“That road is probably empty.  Maybe no one cares,” he told her.

She smiled, “Maybe.”

“I would never leave you behind,” he laughed, “you’re way too smart.”

“I try.”

“Thank God, you’re gonna get us out of this.”

“Not so sure Traves, you’re the driver.  Get us hell out of this town.”

He picked up speed, as the noise around them picked up.

“Want to talk about what happened in there?”  He asked her, she was scribbling again, running out of paper, now writing on the notebook cover.

“Yeah.  What the heck?  I didn’t think about it.  What am I gonna bury this in?  The elements will ruin it.  Jackson.  Jackson Gillis has to find it.”

She started rummaging through the glove compartment.  She pulled out of gun.

“What’s this for?”  She asked, looking at the Sherriff.

“Just in case.”

“You don’t think we’ll make it out of here?”

He shook his head in the negative.

“What about the road?”

“Fifty-fifty.  They’ve put out a lot of man power.  They don’t want anyone to live Natalie.  They probably have drones.  They can see us right now.”

“Speed up.  Hurry.  Let’s go.”

He ruffled around in the console between, “Here think you can fit your notes in here?”

“A pencil box?” She asked.

“A tin pencil box.”

“It makes one heck of a treasure box,” she admitted, now ripping the pages out of her metal spiral bound notebook.  She folded them and crammed them into the box, desperately trying to shut it.