Tread Fearless: Survival & Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 4) (27 page)

“All I can think of is Sheppard Air Force Base, but I thought it was a training base. I don’t think they had any tactical or strategic assets there,” said John, as he held his fingers to measure the cloud stem. With one finger in the air he said, “It was either a low yield device, or it’s not Sheppard.”

“It’s Sheppard,” remarked Pete. “It has to be. There’s nothing else over that way.” He then turned to the southwest and asked, “Abilene?”

“Dyess. Now that I believe. They had B1B’s there,” said John.

“What are you guys talking about?” asked Paul. “Can you please enlighten us?”

“Yes, John, can you please tell us what’s going on?” asked Jenna, as she wrapped her arms around Abby. He saw the fear in their eyes. This was a whole new element to their survival, and it angered him to think more was being added to their plates.

Pete leaned close and whispered, “Make this quick, boss. We need to run.”

John nodded and said, “It looks to me like someone just attacked us with ICBMs . . . nuclear missiles. It doesn’t matter who. The one is about seventy miles away, and the other a little over a hundred. That’s too close for comfort.” He turned to Pete and asked, “Wind direction?” Then back to the company and said, “That means we need to leave the area right now. Head north. Keep away from the fallout. We need to stay in our cars as much as possible . . . at least until we’re far away from here. So pee now and load up. We need to go.”

“Wind’s nearly slack, so I can’t get a good read. But if we’re lucky, it will blow this way.”

John looked at him with a cocked head and said, “Toward us?”

“In this direction, yes. But I plan to lead us north at a high rate of speed. Don’t you agree?”

John removed the compass and opened it. He watched the needle move to face north. “North it is,” he said. “Our current route still works?”

“It does.”

“Then let’s go,” said John, and he turned to see Jessy’s boyfriend running up to him.

“What should we do, John?” he asked, excited and out of breath.

“Get everyone inside. If the wind turns this way, stay inside for as long as possible, at least three days. Your other option is to flee. I think you should head east, away from this area, but it’s up to you.”

“The keys?”

John nodded to Pete, and Pete removed a zip-lock baggie of keys from his cargo pocket and handed them to the young man. John added, “Take what you can, but don’t delay. Fallout from that cloud could be here in less than an hour, sooner if the wind picks up.”

The young man said, “Thanks, John,” and hurried off to the house.

“Let’s get out of here,” said Pete.

“Absolutely,” agreed John.

CHAPTER 11

BYPASS

T
he threat of nuclear fallout changed things up a bit for Mark. He was no longer in a hurry to head north, and possibly into the downwind path of radioactive fallout. Rain would help, but he had no idea what was going on with the weather since losing all electronic access. It was nice having weather apps on his phone, but little good that did him when all the data channels were down.

Lauren also seemed to have a new perspective on survival. And if he didn’t know better, Mark believed she resigned herself to staying with him to the end. That was only a hunch on Mark’s part, because he would never say such a thing to her, but he felt the change in her after reading the letter. One thing Mark knew about Lauren, she had to make her own decisions. If he pushed anything on her, she would rebel and likely do something irrational, like try to hurt him.

They pushed their bikes up the quarry road on the far side of the pit, and then made their way to an equipment warehouse. There were other smaller buildings around the warehouse, but if they were to be bottled up for a few days, Mark had no desire for it to be in a closet. He figured he’d use the time and space to work with Lauren on her combat skills, and maybe even rehearse a few quick reaction drills for when they made contact with trouble.

The warehouse was dry and dusty, and didn’t seem to bother Lauren as much as he thought it would. He figured she’d want to keep moving, but bicycles were only moderately faster than running, and like him, she probably figured she couldn’t outrun the fallout.

They talked little since the double nuke attack, the first being the actual one, and the second the despicable letter. Lauren wheeled her bike into the warehouse, leaned it against a metal support pole, and then kicked away a folded soda can that was lying at her feet. “I can’t believe he would do that!”

“Do what? Turn me in to Fogg?”

“No. Actually, that doesn’t surprise me. You threatened him. But setting me up like that! I trusted him.”

“Threatened him? How so? I never said anything threatening to him,” replied Mark, as he rummaged around in his bike trailer looking for something.

“Not verbally, but you did anyway. You’re a very imposing man, Mark. You exude confidence. You threatened the Sheriff with your skill, your quiet confidence, and your inability to be intimidated by him. Besides, he knew how you felt about me,” she added, as she approached and stood near him. “What are you looking for?”

“My hammock,” replied Mark. “I was thinking about taking a nap. It was an early morning.”

Lauren moved in closer and said, “Kiss me, Mark.”

Mark stopped what he was doing and looked up at her. When he saw she was serious, he stood and said, “Lauren, I would love nothing more than to kiss you, but I don’t understand you. I don’t know what your plans are, what you want to do. I know there’s something between us, but I don’t understand what it means. And to be honest, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with you.”

“Do with me?”

“I mean, what we’re supposed to do . . . together,” corrected Mark. He felt she was trying to fluster him, and he was doing a terrible job of controlling himself at the moment.

He was about to resume his equipment search when Lauren said, “You’re a good man, Mark Phillips,” and she leaned forward and kissed him.

Mark kissed her back, and with growing passion, but something began to tug at his heart. It was a string of emotions: first guilt, then restraint, then disgust. A mental picture of Lisa entered his mind, alive and happy, but then suddenly he saw her lying dead at the bottom of a shallow grave. He shuddered and said, “I can’t, Lauren. I . . . just can’t right now. I have feelings for you, strong feelings, but I need time.”

“Lisa?” she asked, not offended by Mark’s reference, but certainly surprised. In fact, she seemed concerned for him, and that touched him deeply.

“Yeah. That’s part of it. But I’m afraid of hurting you. I can’t bury another . . .” said Mark, as his sentence trailed off quietly.

Lauren asked, “Another what?” and rested a hand on Mark’s chest.

“Another . . . responsibility. No, not a responsibility,” he quickly corrected, “Love. I’m not ready to love you, and then watch you die in my arms.”

Lauren wrapped her arms around Mark and said, “I understand. I’m sorry about Lisa. But I’m not trying to replace her.”

“I know,” he said, and added, “I love you. I know that sounds strange, but I fell in love with you when I saw you in my vision . . . back when I . . . after Lisa. She died because of me, Lauren, me and my pride. But then again . . . I’m here because of the way everything happened. I don’t know what it all means. It’s a mess. But I think we were meant to be together. I just don’t know why, and it’s driving me a little crazy.”

“Do you always over analyze everything? I saw you in a dream too, remember. And when you showed up I almost died from shock and surprise. I mean, how many people see the man they dreamed about? So don’t push me away out of fear and self-pity,” she said, moving a hand to his cheek.

“I’m not pushing you away, I’m exercising caution,” replied Mark with an edge.

Lauren moved her other hand to his cheek and cupped his face in her hands. She looked into his eyes for a moment and said, “I know
you feel bad about Lisa, but you admit to being here for a reason. I feel you’re here for a reason too. I also love and trust you too, perhaps more than I should for someone I just met. But there you have it. We do live in interesting times. I agree we’re bound together in some strange way, but if I had to be bound to anyone, I’d pick you,” and then she kissed him again.

Mark wrapped his arms around her and they held each other tight. Though she never said it, Mark suspected she lost more than her ride home with the nuclear attack on Fort Hood. He felt like a jerk for laying his emotional baggage at her feet, but he wanted to know that their coming together was more than a . . . a freak of nature. He didn’t know what to call it, special maybe, but he needed time to understand it, and he was glad she understood. He loved her more for it.

Mark gave up on the hammock and walked over to a pile of flattened cardboard. He laid down, and she settled down next to him, close, to share their warmth. She was tired from the early morning ride, and was asleep in minutes. Mark wrapped an arm around her and smiled. In some ways, Lauren was like Lisa, but in others she was different, stronger and more independent. He didn’t know where they’d end up, but for the first time he was excited to find out. Mark pulled a loose piece of cardboard over the top of them and joined her in sleep.

The sound of a distant motorcycle jogged Mark awake. His back ached from lying on the hard floor, and he winced as he rolled away from Lauren and stood. After stretching his spine to relieve some of the backache, he went to the bike trailer and removed an army issue poncho liner. After covering Lauren with it, he re-laced his boots, checked his pistol, and went to look for a corner to pee in.

The sound of the bike was louder now, and there was no mistaking the rider’s interest to inspect the warehouse, or the fact that it was a dirt
bike, and a big one at that. Was it a scout, or someone passing through? Mark didn’t know, but he wanted to have a closer look, so he moved to the nearest customer door and slowly cracked it open.

The rider came coasting into the quarry parking lot less than a stone’s throw from the door where Mark stood. He watched the rider idle-roll past him on a red and white Honda CRF450, and wondered how much ground he and Lauren could cover with two such bikes in their possession. They were loud, but they could cover a lot of ground with two of those.

Hanging behind the rider’s white and black adventure helmet was five inches of a ginger ponytail, but Mark knew that didn’t necessarily mean the rider was a girl. The protective chest rig, leg guards, and a back-belt, made sex determination all the more difficult. Whatever gender the rider was, he or she was lean, fit, and obviously comfortable on a dirt bike.

Finally, the rider flipped up the yellow tinted visor, and Mark saw that it was a twenty-something woman. She looked his way, and without moving the door even slightly, Mark stepped back into the shadows. He lingered there, wondering if her curiosity would lead her to dismount and investigate the open door, but a moment later she revved the bike’s engine and pulled away. Mark watched her leave and wondered about her interest in the quarry. He was certain she was a scout, but for whom was the question in his mind.

Lauren touched Mark’s shoulder and he about jumped out of his skin. With a hand on his pistol, he whirled around ready to fight. “Easy, tiger,” said Lauren, hands up, palms outward. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t scare me,” scoffed Mark. “That was my training kicking in. You shouldn’t do that to me. I still have to pee.”

“I thought it was impossible to sneak up on a Green Beret?” she teased.

“Former . . . Green Beret,” corrected Mark.

“Are we in danger here?” asked Lauren, growing serious again. Mark liked it when she was playful, but he preferred her serious, professional side, at least while they were in survival mode.

“Not at the moment, but that was a scout, so someone’s looking for a quarry,” said Mark.

“Oh my God,” gasped Lauren.

“What? What is it?”

“The FEMA guys,” said Lauren. When Mark shrugged she added, “They were setting up operations at the high school across from us . . . remember?”

“Well yeah, I remember you saying something about them. Why? What’s the worry?”