Strengthen What Remains (Book 2): A Time to Endure (2 page)

Grabbing
his sister by the hand, Zach ran, splashing through the stream toward the
culvert. As they hurried to the tunnel the current flowed faster and the waters
deeper. They struggled into the darkness until they neared the middle. In the
frigid waist deep flow he held his sobbing sister tightly. “Don’t cry, Sis.
We’re fine.”

Zach
hoped his words were true. He prayed the water and darkness would hide them
from other, less merciful, soldiers. “Why did you come back?” he whispered.

Still
sobbing she said, “I saw them moving through the pasture and came looking for
you.” With each word her voice seemed louder. “I wanted to get you and go
home.”

“Shhhh.
I know,” he whispered.

“They
shot those men.”

“Shhhh.
 
Sounds echo in here. We’ll be okay,” Zach
whispered. “No one shot us.”

Vicki
buried her head in his shoulder as if to block out the world.

Seconds
later trucks thundered overhead. With the noise, Zach felt free to move. First
he wiggled his numb toes just to prove he could. They moved but the lower half
of his body was stiff and cold. He shifted his weight and nearly fell. During a
momentary pause in the vehicle traffic he heard gunfire, but it seemed distant.
Looking through the far end of the culvert he saw a farmhouse with a barn
beside it.
If we could get there we’d
probably be safer and warmer. Even if we hid in the barn until the soldiers
leave, that would be better than here.

When
the last of the trucks seemed to have passed overhead, Zach whispered to his
sister, “I’m going to do a little scouting.” Cautiously he stepped toward the
far end.

“No,
stay here.”

“I’m just checking, I won’t go outside.”
Looking out the far
end he didn’t see any soldiers. Gunfire raged, but now free of the culvert
echo, he determined the shooting was far off.

As
he looked about, his sister came up behind him.
 

Returning
his gaze to the farmhouse he mapped out a route in his head. They could follow
the stream for a few hundred yards and then, if they stayed low, the grass
would conceal them as they approached the farm. They could get close without
being seen by any remaining soldiers. “Sis, we’re going to that house.”

“No…no…please,
let’s stay here.” She dug her nails into his hand.

“I’ll
lead.” He pried her fingers loose. Keeping low, he moved with the water and
caused barely a ripple. He then hugged the bank of the stream. He imagined he
was hunting a deer and needed to get closer. The soldiers might not be hunting
him, but he was certainly not the hunter. His heart pounded in fear and he
crouched low to hide. Every step was slow and deliberate. He wished he had his
bow. That would give him some ability to defend Vicki and himself, but it was
back at the house.

It
seemed to take forever, but when they neared another culvert, Zach saw an
opportunity to head directly toward the farmhouse. Using rocks he climbed up
the bank behind a large thicket of blackberry brushes. A rutted, dirt driveway
split from the main road just a few feet ahead. Grass grew high along a fence
that followed it. “Sis, stay low and follow me.”
   

She
nodded.

Confident
they hadn’t been observed, he moved away from the stream with his sister close
behind. As they neared the home, the grass was cut low and cover sparse. He
paused and looked about. There was a barn near the house with a car parked
between, but nearest to them was an old tractor. He signaled his sister to
follow him.
 

Crouching,
Zach stepped from the grass-covered fence and heard the unmistakable rack of a
shotgun.

He
froze.

Vicki
bumped into him. “Why’d you….”

Without
moving his arms, Zach slowly turned his head and his eyes focused on the barrel
pointed directly at him.

The
young woman who held it stood behind a car. An older man stepped from the barn.
He wore a green vest with many pockets and carried a black, military-style
rifle. The front door of the home opened and another young woman holding a gun
said, “What have we here, Maria?”

“I’m
not sure,” the other woman said. “Stand up you two and keep your hands in
sight.”

Zach
stood slowly.
 

Vicki,
white as he had ever seen her, followed with her mouth agape.

The
man walked toward the brother and sister. A yapping puppy followed close by his
side. “Quiet Nikki.”

The
dog slowed its barking.

Turning
to Zach the man asked, “Were you trying to steal food? Are you hungry? Is that
why you were sneaking up to our house?”

Zach
was hungry. Since the first nuke attack a month ago it seemed fish was all they
had to eat and not nearly enough. “No sir. We’re doing okay. We just didn’t
want to be seen by the soldiers,”

The
three holding the guns seemed to relax.

Zach
took a deep breath. “They shot two men….”

Eyes
wide, the woman with the shotgun demanded. “Civilians or soldiers?”

“Soldiers.
If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes…what’s going….”

“Show
me where,” Maria said.

Vicki
grabbed his hand and held it tight.

“No
Maria. I’m sure it’s not Caden,” the older man said.

The
people huddled around the front porch discussing the pros and cons of going to
find the two soldiers. Zach relaxed a bit now that the guns were not pointed at
him. He turned and smiled at his sister. A hint of color had returned to her
face. He looked back over his shoulder and considered making a dash into the field,
but he was less afraid of the family than any soldiers who might still be there.

Returning
his gaze to the three grownups, still debating what to do, he allowed his eyes
to linger on the two women. The one they called Maria had dark hair and spoke
like any other American, but her skin was a light golden-brown. He wasn’t sure
if her ancestry was Mexican, Spanish, or maybe even Italian. The other woman
had brown wavy hair and pale white skin like most people from the area. They
were both young and good looking enough that he could imagine dating either one
but, being pretty much grown at sixteen, he was wise enough to know that
probably wouldn’t happen. Still, although he had a girlfriend, Zach’s eyes
lingered on the two women.

Suddenly
he noticed the older man staring straight at him. Zach cast his eyes to the
ground and stuffed his adolescent dreams to the back of his brain.

Two
more women appeared on the porch and joined in the discussion. One was older
like the man, perhaps his wife, the other younger and clearly pregnant.
How many people live here?

The
man walked to the edge of the yard and then stared through binoculars toward
the main road. “There’s a jeep near the intersection of Hops Road and the
highway. I see three soldiers. There may be more.”

“What
if it is Caden, or David, and they’re wounded?” the brown-haired woman said.

Finally,
the one called Maria put up her hand in a stop gesture. “We’ve got to know for
sure.”

The
pregnant woman nodded. “Wait a minute.” She disappeared into the house and
returned moments later with a green backpack and waders. She reached out the
backpack to the brown-haired woman, but the old man took it.

“I’ll
carry the first-aid kit.” the man said. “Lisa, you stay here and keep watch.”

Brown-haired
Lisa started to protest.

“I
promise to tell you the truth whatever we find.”

Slowly
she nodded.

Maria
put on oversized waders. “Come on,” she said to Zach. “Show us the way.” She
started to leave while the old man struggled to get his waders on.

Zach
didn’t budge. “While I’m leading you back to the soldiers, my sister stays here
and you protect her…”

“No,
Zach don’t go.” She squeezed his hand even tighter.

“…and
let her call our mom so she can say where we are and that we’re safe.”

The
older woman nodded. “Of course she can call her mother.” She turned to Vicki.
“You look frozen would you like something warm to drink?”

Vicki
nodded, but returned her gaze to Zach. “We’re not safe. No one is. And what if
Mom wants to talk to you? What do I say?”

“Tell
her I’m outside. It’s true and won’t worry her much. I’ll be back soon, and
then we can go home.” Once again he pried his sister’s hand from his.

Still
holding the shotgun, Maria approached Vicki and Zach with a gentle look on her
face. Eyes on Vicki, she said, “We’ll bring him back safe, I promise.”

Zach’s
gaze fixed on Maria. “That’s a big promise to make.”

Dressed
in waders, the man put the binoculars into one of his many pockets, adjusted
the backpack and put the rifle sling around his neck. “Zach, take us back the
way you came.”

“Do
I get a gun?”

The
old man looked at the boy for a moment. “Do you know how to use one?”

Zach
had gone on hunting trips with his father, but that had been years ago, when he
was a kid. His father had carried the gun all those times and since his Dad
died there had been no opportunities to hunt. “Point. Pull the trigger?”

“No,
you don’t get one.”

With
Zach in the lead, the three of them headed out. “Stay low along this fence. The
tall grass will hide us.”

As
they neared the stream bed two army jeeps, followed by a flatbed truck, rumbled
down the highway. Zach watched through gaps in the grass as they slowed and
turned down the little road toward the farm. “Head for the gully and hide,” he
whispered.
  

Maria
raced ahead and disappeared down the bank. Moments later Zach climbed down the
rocky embankment to the water and looked for Maria, but couldn’t find her. The
man was the last to reach the stream. The rising ground on both sides
restricted their view but, hopefully, also concealed them. As the vehicles
approached, the two males splashed across the creek and crouched against the
bank nearest the road.

When
only the sound of the distant battle disturbed the quiet, they relaxed. For the
first time since leaving the house they were free to stand erect. Zach looked
downstream wondering where Maria was when he heard splashes behind him. Turning
he saw her, soaked up to her hips, coming out of the dark culvert upstream.

As
she came toward them, the man stood and stretched to his full height, wincing
as he did.

Zach
grinned at the sight. “I overheard Maria’s name when you were talking back at
the house. What’s your name?” He resisted the urge to end the sentence with,
‘old guy.’

The
man caught his smile and said flatly, “Westmore.” Then he seemed to look more
intently at the young man, as if evaluating him. “Trevor Westmore.”

The
boy smiled. “I’m Zach Brennon.”

Trevor
nodded. “I’ve seen you and your sister fishing this stream and trading in the
town market.”

He
stomach grumbled. He hadn’t eaten today. “There’s been no food in the stores
for weeks. We catch, eat and trade fish to get by.”

“I
know,” Trevor said. “We’re all just trying to get by.”

Maria
hurried along the muddy bank toward the site of the shooting. The two men
followed as gunfire echoed across the valley.

After
walking several hundred yards in silence, Zach turned to Trevor. “I heard Maria
mention two guys, Caden and David. Who are they?”

“Caden
is my son and the commander of the National Guard armory in Hansen. Maria is
his…friend…good friend. David is the XO.”

Zach
watched Maria trudge through the mud and freezing water twenty yards ahead of
them and picked up his own pace.

“So
why is the army shooting at the Guard?”

The
old guy sighed deeply and seemed to consider the question as they walked on.
Finally he said, “People in our own government and other countries are using
the terrorist attacks to seize political and economic power.”

Zach
wasn’t sure what economic power was, but said, “And your son is trying to stop
them?”

“As
best he can, yes, along with others.”

The
boy mulled it over. It seemed to him the old man was saying people at the other
end of the country and foreigners were trying to tell them what to do. He
didn’t like that idea, but he wasn’t even old enough to vote. As he walked
along the stream bank he wondered what he could do to help, but nothing came to
mind.
 

As
they rounded the next bend in the stream the culvert under the highway came
into view. He tensed as he remembered the shooting. Then his gut wrenched tight
as the growl of many trucks filled the air.

The
three hid side-by-side in the bramble and weeds as the roar reached a crescendo
on the road just a couple of feet above them.