The Dark Rift: Ascension (The Dark Rift Book Series 1) (16 page)

Bob and Jodie ran back to the Camaro. Nick and Mei each mounted an ATV, and Christy started leading them up the road again in Nick's truck. Their caravan of four-wheel drive truck, ATVs, and Camaro moved as fast as it could, headlights off.

Jodie sensed they were missing something altogether. It was as if they were being forced up the mountain into a death trap. "Somehow, we're going to have to find a signal to get in touch with Isaiah again. Maybe you should have left me down there. I could've hidden in the woods and called."

"No way. If they're tracking our cell phones, they'd have found you. Just in case, here's my cell. Take the batteries out of both of ours. We don't have a signal anyway."

              Jodie pulled the back off of Bob's phone and took out the battery, handing the pieces of the phone back to him. She was about to flip her own phone over and saw she received a text message. "Isaiah sent me a text." Jodie pushed the text button and read. "It says, STOP 49." She ripped the back plate of the phone off and took out the battery. "Stop 49? What could that mean?"

"I don't know, but I think we're gonna find out even if we don't want to."

They drove on for another twenty minutes to a point where the road, or what was left of it, narrowed again, and Nick raised his arm, calling up to Christy to stop. They came to a halt in the middle of the roadway and Jodie knew she'd be saying goodbye, probably for the final time, to her beloved Camaro.

Nick walked up to the passenger side window. "You know what we have to do now, don't you, Jodie?"

She looked up at Nick. "Yeah, let's make it fast, okay?"

Jodie, Bob, Nick and Mei all grabbed every possession they could find out of the Camaro and threw it in the back of Nick's truck. Jodie started up the Camaro and backed into a y-turn, inching the car back and forth until there was no room to move in either direction. Bob and Nick pushed as much soil and as many rocks as they could down on the back of the Camaro while Jodie let the air out of the tires. She popped the hood. A minute later, she came away with a handful of spark plug wires and a distributor cap.

"Looks like you might be saving my life again, old friend," Jodie said, patting the hood of the car.

Nick pointed to the brightening forest behind them. "It doesn't look like it took 'em too long to move the trailer."

"Let's go," Jodie said, crawling over the Camaro.

Bob and Jodie wedged themselves in between suitcases and first aid kits in the bed of the truck, bouncing along the forest road. She glanced into the cab, seeing Leah alert, holding the shotgun between her knees. Noah pointed out hazards in the roadway as Christy gracefully wove the truck between potholes, stumps and boulders. She looked over at Bob, who was gritting his teeth. "What's on your mind?"

"I've been thinking. Maybe it's time for a less dangerous job. Maria asked me to consider quitting the Bureau. I said I'd think about it. You know what? If we get out of this jam, I’m gonna do just that." He looked away, out into the woods.

"I think I'll join you in your unemployment," Jodie said, reaching out to squeeze Bob's hand. As she did, the full weight of the realization that he was only involved in this mess to help her hit her head on. She pulled her hand away, overwhelmed with guilt, knowing she would do anything to help Bob get back to Maria safely.

Nick sped up in the ATV and pulled alongside the truck, signaling Christy to stop. Jodie and Bob jumped out. "We're about as far as we can go with the truck. I say we stash it and start on foot," Nick said.

Chuck Wending watched as Debi Schneider sauntered up to the booth he was sitting in, coffee pot in hand. "How ya doin', darlin'?" she said.

"Well, I'm fine, thank you. Gonna have a big day tomorrow, so I'd better have the special. Need to keep up my energy."

Debi filled Chuck’s coffee cup. "What's on tap for tomorrow? You still chasin' around with your favorite FBI agent?"

Chuck said nothing. He tried as hard as he could to make everyone think he didn't have feelings for Jodie, but damn if Debi couldn't see right through that.

"You know, Chuck, you're barking up the wrong tree, so to speak, with her. She ain't gonna be catching none of cupid's straight arrows, if you get my meanin'."

Chuck knew the expression on his face must be betraying his feelings. He could see Debi looking at him with pity. But, how could she know what people would or wouldn't do? After all, he never told Jodie how he felt about her. With the right combination of events, she might change her mind about a few things. Maybe a lot of things. "You don't know that, Debi."

Debi sat down across from him in the booth. "It's just that I hate to see you like this. I wish you'd move on. Jodie doesn't have any idea you've been waitin' for her. Even if she did, I think it's safe to say she's not waitin' for you."

"We'll see about that. Now, can I have that special or not?"

"Sure, hon. Sure. Be right back with you." And with that, she got up and Chuck was left alone in his booth.

* * *

Later that night, he struggled to sleep. He was anxious about what the day would bring and how it might change his life. Surely, he would find out enough to make an impression on Jodie. Maybe she'd give him a second look after all. Who knew where it would lead from there? So, he was more than a little irritated when he finally lapsed into a peaceful slumber, only to be woken by a ringing phone.

"Goldarnit! Who's calling me in the middle of the night?" he said to no one other than himself. He picked up the phone and said in a stern voice, "This better be good, no matter who this is."

"Officer Wending, this is Judy Evans. You know, I live up offa the Forest Road 88? Well, I had to call you because there's all sorts of commotion going on up the way."

Yawning, Chuck asked, "Whadya mean, commotion?"

"Well, there was a lot of shooting. I thought at first some kids were up there by the old Watts place. Then, me and the mister looked out the window and saw somethin' was on fire. There was a loud bang. Really loud, you know, like a truck backfiring ... what's that? ... oh, the mister says it was more like an explosion or somethin'. The mister was gonna call the State Police, but I told him, no, old Charlie Wending is in charge of forest roads and he said --"

"I'll get right on up there, don't you worry," Chuck Wending said, impatient with the woman. "You have a good night now. And thanks for calling."

Hanging up the phone, Chuck thought, I wonder what they're doing up there? Maybe some target practice gone wrong, or somethin'. He pulled on his pressed and starched pants, thinking how his fresh uniform better damn well not be wrinkled by the time he went up the mountain with the State Police later that morning.

He hopped in his Bronco so he wouldn’t need to go to the shop and pick up the cruiser, which he'd dropped off for detailing after work the night before. Chuck drove a steady sixty miles per hour on the abandoned streets of the sleeping town and lowered it to forty on the forest road. No sense wrecking my Bronco on this road, he thought. About twenty minutes later, he approached the Watts cabin. He pulled in the driveway and stopped. A burned-out Honda sat to his right. "Fucking rice-burner. Musta blown up from driving on real roads," he mumbled to himself. Shifting his view to the cabin, he saw the front door hanging open. Instinctively, his ass puckered. Then, he felt something surprising happen. His training kicked in.

"What the hell went on here?" he said. Chuck pulled out his gun and approached the door. He could see a trail of blood all the way from the front door down the front steps. He entered the porch, calling out for Jodie. No answer. He pushed the door open with his foot and swung into the room, crouching. A dark pool of drying blood stained the kitchen floor in front of him. He moved slowly and stumbled, kicking a wine bottle across the floor. "Shit!" he whispered. He checked all of the rooms. They looked like they'd been ransacked. Someone had been searching for something.

He entered the last bedroom on the left side of the hallway. Jodie's room. He could tell it was her room because it smelled like her. A musky, sandalwood smell. There was nothing like it anywhere. He breathed in deeply, noticing a picture on the dresser. Jodie and her grandparents, about the time he knew her in high school. Another picture. He picked it up and cradled it in his hand. Jodie at her college graduation. With that smile … that beautiful smile. He could almost see himself standing next to her, happy, smiling right along with her.

The longer he stood in her room, the more of her he took in, and the angrier he got at the thought someone could be doing her harm right at that very moment. He might never have a chance to tell her about his feelings for her. Suddenly, he felt like he was intruding and set the picture back down, gently. "I'm gonna find you, Jodie," he said.

Looking out the window, he could see several trees blasted apart by bullets. Nowhere did he see any sign of Jodie, or anyone else, for that matter. He pulled out his phone and dialed the State Police, giving directions to the cabin, describing the scene, and telling them he was going up the road a ways to see if he could find anything else. The dispatcher's tone didn't give Chuck the impression anyone would be out there in a hurry. At one point, he even thought he heard her laugh, so he used his most forceful voice to make her understand he wasn't joking around. Jodie was in trouble.

Chuck ran to his Bronco, pulled out onto the forest road, and drove up to the next cabin. Turning in the driveway, his headlights illuminated something, no
, someone,
lying on the ground. He jumped out of the SUV and drew his weapon, running over to the body, checking for signs of life. Again, he called into the State Police. He told them about Jodie’s neighbor, who was lying dead next to his house, and explained he was going to continue up the mountain. The dispatcher didn't laugh this time. He started to feel as if she might be taking him seriously now.

"It's about an hour drive to the top. There's only two ways outta here, up the mountain or down into town. I didn't see anybody coming down on my way up here. I know they mighta gone through already, but I'm goin' up to see if anybody went that way," he said.

He got back in his vehicle and started driving, thinking of all the years he'd wasted, trying so damn hard to be somebody he didn't even want to be. He cursed himself for not moving on, for acting like a child, but even more, for not laying it all out there and telling Jodie how he felt. Most of all, Chuck realized he didn't even care if he was in danger. There was something bigger to fear than harm coming to him and that was losing Jodie again.

He slowed the Bronco as he approached something sticking halfway onto the road. It looked like someone lost a trailer. The hitch end pointed up in the air and the back end sat in the ditch. From the marks on the dirt road, he could see the trailer was dragged a good fifty feet with flat tires. He started driving again, this time, with the lights off. Traveling as fast as he could in the dark, he almost slammed into the back end of a car pushed to one side of the road. He could feel the blood draining from his face as he recognized the car. "That's Jodie's car ..."

Turning off the SUV, Chuck listened for a good thirty seconds before he got out. He could hear a motor some distance ahead, but nothing near to where he was sitting, so he reached up and switched off the dome light, opened the door and got out of the Bronco. He grabbed a flashlight from the back seat and closed the door quietly. He crept up to Jodie's car and shined the light in, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw no one inside. He noticed the tires were flat and a pile of mud and stones were sitting on the trunk. He went back to his Bronco and retrieved a tire iron, then started saying a silent prayer as he popped the lock on the trunk.

Chuck finally allowed himself to take a breath again when he saw the trunk was empty. He shined the flashlight around in the nearby forest, looking for signs of Jodie. He knew this would reveal his position, but he had to do it. If she was out there and hurt, he had to find her. But she was nowhere to be found.

Chuck got back in his vehicle and continued on, his approach cautious. After about twenty minutes, he could see a glow up ahead. Whoever was traveling up the forest road had their lights on. As he got closer, he could see the reflection of their headlights bouncing up and down on the trees as they drove over ruts. Chuck knew they'd run out of road pretty soon and would need to walk if they went any further. He got as close as he dared. When it looked like the headlights stopped bouncing, he pulled off of the road and parked behind a stand of trees. He turned the engine off and listened. From what he could hear, there were likely five or six people talking ahead, but he couldn’t be sure. He couldn't tell how many vehicles there were either, but guessed at least four. As he suspected, they reached the end of the drivable road and shut off their engines.

Rummaging in the back of the Bronco, he grabbed a duffel bag and checked the contents, which consisted of one hunting rifle with a high power scope, fifty rounds of ammunition and a bag full of Three Musketeers bars. Could use one of those right now, he thought, biting right through the wrapper and spitting out the foil.

Chuck crept through the forest toward the illuminated area. He stopped and crouched down low every ten paces or so to listen. He could hear them, but still couldn’t see them clearly. He watched as the first set of headlights went out, followed by three more, casting the forest once again into darkness. Four vehicles total, he thought.

He kept moving, creeping up until he could see the outline of the first Ford F-150 ahead in the moonlight. He stopped and watched for movement. After seeing nothing for over a minute, he approached the first truck. Seeing its bed empty, he crept to the side of the vehicle and looked in. Total blackness greeted him. Taking a chance, he quickly flicked his flashlight on and off. The cab was empty. He tried the doors. Locked. He went to check the license plate number, but the plates were missing.

Moving up to the next vehicle, he could see something in the truck bed. When he got closer, he could make out the outline of canvas covering a sheet of plastic. He took out his flashlight again, pulling up the canvas, and clicked the light on and off. He stifled a scream and jumped back, breathing hard, trying not to hyperventilate. The truck bed was filled with bodies. His light shone directly on a man with a hole blasted in the side of his face. From what he could see, there were four bodies in the back of the truck, all dressed in what appeared to be combat gear. He pulled back the canvas again, looking harder this time, trying to make sure none of the faces, or what was left of them, were familiar. The darkness and plastic wrapping obscured his view. There was only one option.

Chuck jumped up onto the bed and pulled the blood-covered plastic off. As he did, the smell of bodily fluids smacked him in the face. He raised his arm to cover his nose and mouth. It was pointless. The stench was too strong. He kept looking. He didn't recognize the first body. He pulled on the plastic covering the second body and could see blonde hair, the same shade as Jodie’s.

"No, no, no," he uttered, clawing at the bag, but it wouldn't budge. Now covered in blood, he stood up to gain better leverage and pulled. The plastic came loose from underneath the corpse, leaving him standing in a pool of slippery blood and fecal matter. He bent down, grabbed the shoulders of the corpse to turn it over, and started to slide. Just as it turned, he lost his footing, falling face first into the pile of corpses. He shoved with all his strength against them, throwing himself backward and out of the truck bed, landing hard on the ground.

He leaned over and puked. "Fuck this," he said, as he grabbed the bodies one by one and pulled them out, letting them drop to the ground. None was recognizable. Moving up to the cab, he glanced in, shined his flashlight across the interior, taking a longer look. Again, nothing. Chuck bent down and wiped his bloody hands on the ground.

At the third truck, Officer Wending already knew what he'd find because he could see the canvas sticking out of the back of the tailgate. Three dead men, all dressed in combat gear, lay in the back. He strained hard to see their faces and breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't recognize any of them. Thankfully, the other vehicle had no bodies.

Once he was finished checking all of the trucks, he went back to his Bronco and stripped down to his boxer shorts. He pulled out a pair of coveralls he kept in the truck, thinking that their blackish-grey color would provide him better cover anyway, than that sissy tan of his uniform, which he balled up into a wad and shoved in a hole under a nearby boulder. The coveralls made him feel more like himself. They made him feel stronger.

He stepped behind a tree to catch his breath and pulled out his cell phone. The words 'No Service' didn't surprise him. He sat down for a minute to think. "Well, if they're not here, then they're after Jodie goin' up that mountain," he mumbled to himself. "I'd best leave a little surprise for them before I go any further." Chuck got to work.