Tread Fearless: Survival & Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 4) (18 page)

“Mabry’s downtown?” asked Mark.

Lauren turned and pointed to the map. “It’s here,” she said, as she stabbed the blue outline of the camp that sat just south of the city center.

“I see,” said Mark.

“When the mobs started attacking infrastructure, the colonel knew it was only a matter of time before they shifted the focus to anything that represented authority,” replied Lauren.

“Government, law enforcement, and the military,” replied Mark.

“Yeah. The capital building was the first to go, and then the department. I still don’t understand it . . . why they didn’t just stick to looting department stores and such. It was really weird. If I didn’t know better I’d say it was evil inspired chaos,” said Lauren.

Mark nodded and asked the question that bothered him the most, “What does Green want with me?”

“I don’t know,” replied Lauren. “I have no clue, whatsoever. But I believe there’s a reason for it or you wouldn’t be here.” Mark was about
to comment on Lauren’s beliefs when she held up her hand and added, “And, I don’t think that reason is Green, and what he wants from you. He obviously want’s something from you. I just hope it doesn’t cost you your life.”

“My life?” asked Mark, with raised eyebrows.

“He’ll ask you to do something dangerous, I’m sure.”

“Hunt someone down, maybe?” asked Mark.

Lauren shrugged and said, while looking directly into Mark’s eyes, “I’m not sure, but I refuse to believe God would send you here, to find me, only to take you away again.”

“I’ve learned that God can be cruel,” replied Mark. Lauren continued to stare at Mark, as if she was looking through him, and he squirmed under her intense gaze. “Besides, I didn’t take you as a religious person,” added Mark. The comment was more to break her stare over him than anything, but he was surprised by her opinion that God brought him to her.

“Hmmm,” replied Lauren. “Spiritual more than religious.”

“Same diff,” said Mark.

“No, they’re very different. I know a lot of religious people who aren’t the least bit spiritual. And I know spiritual people who don’t align with any religion,” argued Lauren with her head tilted slightly to the right. “I figured you for the spiritual type as well . . . what with you seeing me in a vision and all. What do you call that?”

“I call that . . .” Mark was about to say,
“strange,”
but instead he said, “unusual.” And added, “But not spiritual or religious.”

“Well, call it what you want,” grunted Lauren. “The truth is, you saw me in a vision, and I saw you in one of my own. I knew when you walked in . . . the look on your face revealed everything to me. But I agree, it’s all very strange.”

Mark noticed that she picked up on his unspoken word, and saw her look quickly at her watch. She stood and walked around the table while saying, “I don’t know what Green has planned for you, but I like you, so don’t do anything stupid. Green’s not to be trifled with.”

“Acknowledged,” replied Mark, as he stood to join her. They stood looking at each other while standing at arm’s length; her sizing him up, and he gauging the seriousness of her demeanor. He wasn’t sure why she was being so serious, especially about the visions, but he couldn’t help but trust her. There was something about Lauren that caught and held his attention, and like a magnet, he felt an undeniable attraction to her. There was also something dangerous about her, something challenging that Mark longed to explore. He was fine with dangerous challenges, had been most of his life even, but Lauren was different.

Mark reasoned he must have been picking up on the danger that surrounded her, because she didn’t seem dangerous. In fact, she was the first person he met since the disaster started that he actually trusted, and liked for that matter. It was a strange feeling given the circumstances, still, he trusted Lauren completely, and hoped they could spend more time together.

Lauren was studying Mark with the same intensity, but then she remembered why she stood up in the first place, she said “Follow me,” with a wave of her head, “It’s time for your appointment.”

They both turned to leave the cubicle just as Sheriff Green stepped up to block their exit. Mark was impressed with the man’s bearing, and the fact that he didn’t hear him approach the cubicle. Sheriff Green stood a bit taller than Mark, and with broad shoulders and thick arms, he looked more like a walking oak tree, than a man.

“Is he giving you any trouble?” growled Green while he stared at Mark from over the top of his reading glasses.

“What? Oh, no, sir. He’s been a perfect gentleman. Did you read my report on him?”

“I did,” replied Green with a grunt. “I have a few questions for you, Mark. Can I call you, Mark?”

“You can call me whatever you want,” replied Mark with a grin as he offered his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. How would you like me to address you?”

Green took Mark’s hand and gripped it tightly, as if gauging Mark’s manhood in a single squeeze. While holding the grip he answered, “Sheriff Green will do for now, but you’re former military, so I’ll also accept colonel from you,” and added a wink to Lauren.

“Alright . . . Colonel,” replied Mark, afraid to attempt a release of the man’s powerful grip for fear of appearing weak in any way.

Finally, Green released Mark’s hand, sort of just threw it aside like he was tossing a log onto a fire. “Have you ever been in trouble with the law?” asked the big man, as he began to walk toward his office near the front of the chapel.

“No. I have not,” replied Mark quickly. “I’ve never been in trouble with the military either. But I did have some problems with gangbangers last night,” he said the last while trying to sound lighter than he felt.

Green looked at Mark over his shoulder as he continued walking and said, “It’s my impression you can handle yourself quite well. I had a good feeling about you when I heard about the ambush, but after reading Lauren’s report, well . . . I think you’re the right man for the mission.”

“What mission is that?” asked Mark, with an obviously reserved tone.

Green stopped walking and turned to face Mark. He noticed Lauren wasn’t following them, so he called after her. When she stuck her head around the cubicle corner, Green said, “Come along, Lauren. This mission involves you, too.”

“Mission? What mission?” she asked, equally surprised.

“You’re about to find out. Let’s go . . . I don’t have all day.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Lauren, and she joined the men who resumed their walking when she joined them. “I didn’t know you were planning a mission that involved me,” she added.

“I didn’t either, until about an hour ago,” replied Green, “but things change. As you know all too well.”

Mark and Lauren grunted simultaneously, and they both turned to look at each other as they followed Sheriff Green to the front of the
chapel. Mark wasn’t used to sharing an affinity with someone so quickly, and he was very interested to learn what his mission would be. He just hoped it included spending more time with Lauren.

After answering a barrage of personal and military related questions for Green, Mark began to suspect the Sheriff was considering adding him to his law enforcement detail. That possibility didn’t bother Mark beyond the fact that it would prevent him from reaching John’s place, but the idea of mutual protection, of having a safe place to sleep, and steady food to eat, was pleasant.

For Mark, sticking close to Lauren also interested him more than rushing off to find Pete and John. If asked, he would gladly stay on as one of Green’s deputies, especially if it included billeting here, near Lauren, in the church on the hill. But what Sheriff Green asked of him caught both Mark and Lauren completely off guard. “I want you to deliver Lauren to her uncle.”

“Excuse me?” questioned Lauren, before Mark could even reply.

“Ron wants you to link up with him in Georgetown,” replied Green. “It’s not open for discussion, either. I’ve been committed to getting you to him from the beginning.”

“I know that, but still, I . . . why now? I like it here. It’s safe and no longer in danger,” snapped Lauren.

“That’s true,” replied Green, assuming an over-the-top-of-his-glasses view of Lauren, “but a promise is a promise. I’m a man of my word, Lauren, and your family, your uncle, plans to take you to your dad.”

“I won’t go. You can’t make me go,” stormed Lauren.

“Lauren, there’s nothing keeping you here. Besides, you’re the only single woman left on the hill, and that makes for problems with the single men. There’s already been two fights over you . . . between guys vying for your attention.”

“That’s nothing I can’t handle,” replied Lauren with a snort.

“I’m sure you can, but the fact of the matter remains, your dad wants you home. And Green asked me to help get you there.”

Mark watched the exchange with interest, picking up bits and pieces of important information as the conversation flowed verbally, and silently through body language, around him. He enjoyed watching and listening to the argument, and tried hard not to let it show. No longer worried about what it meant to him, Mark was just happy with the idea that he would be allowed to work close to Lauren. The thought of traveling with her, even with the many dangers around, was more than he could have ever hoped for given the uncertainty of his meeting with Sheriff Green. The idea of a mission centered on her was something Mark didn’t expect, but definitely something he would willingly do.

“What are you grinning about?” snapped Lauren.

Mark realized she was addressing him, and he forced a frown to appear while saying, “I’m not grinning.”

“Yes you were,” she stated with absolute certainty.

“This sounds like a family squabble to me . . . it reminds me of home is all,” retorted Mark, hopefully with enough conviction to turn her anger back to Green.

Lauren huffed loudly, turned, and walked away from the table without saying another word.

“What’d I do?” asked Mark aloud, not expecting or even needing a response from Green, or the other two men standing at the table.

Green cleared his throat and said, “Let me orient you to the map,” and he accepted a pointer from one of his assistants. He jabbed the rubber pointer tip against the 1:25 scale, contoured map of Travis County that was lying atop a tight formation of white, plastic folding tables.

“We’re here,” He said, and then lifted the pointer and dropped it to a spot at the north end of the map and said, “and General Fogg is here. Your job is simple, get Lauren to Fogg, unharmed. Think you can you do it?” he asked the last part while staring over the top of his reading glasses. The man rested his large hands heavily on the flimsy table under him, and mark felt it lift slightly under his hands as he also leaned
against the table. The weight of the question seemed to match that of the man’s body, and Mark considered both carefully.

He then silently studied the distance between the two points. By rough estimates, the distance was about sixty kilometers, or something like forty miles depending on one’s measurement preference. And that was running right up the middle of I-35, a route Mark knew he couldn’t possibly take because of the danger in the city. He knew he would have to bypass as much of the city as possible if they were to make it safely to Georgetown, but the lateral movement would add another twenty kilometers or so.

Mark studied the area around Georgetown and asked, “Where is the general located . . . precisely?”

Green turned and grabbed a folder off his desk. He looked at Mark for a moment, opened the folder, and then handed him a black and white photo copy of a shopping center.

Mark studied the map in his hands and turned his attention back to the large map on the table. “Am I correct to assume this shopping center is just north of highway 29 . . . around mile marker 262?”

“You are,” answered Green.

“That’s where Fogg’s waiting, at a shopping center in Georgetown?”

“It’s not a shopping center any longer,” replied Green, as he turned and pulled another sheet of paper from a different folder that was also on his desk. “It’s now called Phantom FOB . . . the main forward operating base for military activity in that area.” He held the paper in his hands as if deciding whether or not to hand it to Mark.

“What kind of military operations?” Mark asked, looking at Green while trying to read the intensity of the man, to discern if he possessed any treachery or deceit.

“Do you want the job, or not?” Green replied flatly.

“I’ll need supplies,” answered Mark.

Green handed him the paper he was holding and said, “Here’s a list of available supplies. You can have what you want, within reason. I’ll give final approval to your request. When can you leave?”

Mark was impressed with Green’s blunt and straightforward approach, but he felt he needed a little more clarity on the situation. He looked at Green and said, “I assume I can get local intelligence from Laruen . . . about the area threat and all, but it doesn’t sound like she’s willing to leave.”

“Don’t worry about Lauren, she’ll be fine,” replied Green.

“If you can get me the supplies we’ll need by the end of the day,” said Mark, “I can be on the road tomorrow morning . . . before first light.”