Tread Fearless: Survival & Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 4) (40 page)

John could tell, by reaching out and touching the big man with his hand, that he was the boss, that he owned the property they were on, and that he was very upset about the, “trespassers.” He also discerned the man’s name, Carter Mullen, and knew he was a man that could be worked with to reach a peaceful settlement.

John touched the other men, feeling their intent, and also learning something about their lives. He felt everything from fear to anger, but none of them had murder on their minds. They were good men, hardworking men, who were only trying to survive the disaster. They came with their boss to deal with the trespassers because they respected him, and they needed his help to keep their families alive.

John returned to his body and time immediately resumed its forward, linear pace. He had to correct his orientation, which made him stagger, but was soon walking boldly and confidently toward the white Ram.

When he got to within a few yards of the white truck, the passenger door opened. The big man stood on the truck’s running boards, and from over the top of the passenger window, said, “That’s close enough, mister!” His deep baritone voice carried without volume, and John stopped.

“We’re just leaving,” said John. “Can I compensate you for the trouble we’ve caused?”

Carter looked at his son, the driver of the Ram, and then back at John. “My boy here said you would be trouble. I don’t see any trouble here. What do you offer for compensation?”

“What do you seek?” replied John.

“Did you eat any of our cattle?”

“We did not,” answered John.

The big man nodded and tilted his gray Stetson back, away from his forehead. “Well, there’s the hay you tossed around back there in the barn. And the gas I used to come back here with the boys. I’d say that’s worth something,” said Carter.

John nodded and said, “I agree. How about one-hundred dollars in silver?”

Cater nodded and said, “Silver won’t help me much right now. I was thinking more along the lines of ammo. Do you have any Winchester .308?”

“As a matter of fact we do. Will two boxes cover it?” asked John.

“Two boxes, and the silver should about do it,” said Carter.

“Will then, sir, give me a minute to collect the fee and I’ll return.”

Carter touched the tip of his hat with his right hand, and John returned to the Suburban. Pete heard the entire conversation, and wasn’t at all happy about the deal. He felt the ammo alone was more than enough to cover the fee. “Pete, this is nothing,” said John. “This barn saved our lives and kept us hidden from the helicopter patrol. Who knows where we’d be right now if we didn’t seek shelter then.”

“Still, it’s highway robbery.”

John tilted his head and looked at Pete as he placed a Pelican box on the hood and opened it. He said, as he removed a ten-wrap length of one-ounce silver bars, “Pete, I know what you dealt with on your trip up. Those men were different. You and I both know this isn’t highway robbery. This is about paying our way. Besides, we have more than enough metal for emergencies.”

“Maybe. But I still don’t like it.”

As John closed and latched the black, plastic box, Paul said, “That can’t be two-hundred dollars in silver.”

“It is by today’s standard,” said John. “The price of silver before the collapse was around twenty dollars an ounce. Now, with the dollar all
but worthless, I’d say this metal is worth ten times that amount . . . or at least three-hundred dollars, easy.”

Paul’s eyes got big and he said, “Then take a couple off. We’ll probably need it later.”

“Like I said, we have plenty, and it’s only valuable if we use it.”

“What if he thinks it’s not enough?” asked Paul.

“Well, value is relative,” said John. “Pete, can you grab me two boxes of .308 from my ammo box.” Pete grunted and walked to the back gate of the Suburban. After a couple minutes of lifting and grunting, he returned and placed the ammo on the hood.

“I don’t like your non-aggression thing,” he said with a scowl.

John smiled at him and said, “You will when I tell you what happened.”

“What do you mean?” asked Pete.

“I mean, I was able to check them out before I even talked to Carter.”

“You know his name?” said Paul, surprised.

“That, and more,” replied John.

“I saw you stumble, like you were about to fall or something. Was that when it happened?” asked Pete.

“That’s when it ended . . . when I returned. I walked up to each of them and saw their intent. They never meant us harm. They’re good folks, Pete.”

Pete sighed and said, “I can see I need to learn a few things about your gift of probability assessment.”

“Hmm,” said John. “I think it’s more like risk assessment, but probability works too.”

“I just don’t like guys pointing rifles at me,” added Pete.

“Can you blame them,” said John with a smile. He picked up the ammo and silver and added, “We’re a serious looking crew. They’ll be happy to leave without a fight,” and turned to walk away. “I’ll be right back. Oh, and Paul, can you put the money box away?”

“Sure can, boss.”

“Thank you,” said John, and he turned and walked back to the Ram. This time, the big man stepped out of the cab and walked around the front to meet John. Carter had a large caliber revolver, a forty-four magnum by the look of it, in a leather holster on his hip. For some reason, John thought it looked rather appropriate on him. With the silver bars and ammo in the crook of his left arm, John extended his right hand and offered it to Carter while saying, “I’m John Anderson. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Mister Anderson. The name’s Carter Mullen. I’m glad you’re a level-headed business man. I thought for sure you folks would be a lot more trouble.”

“Oh, we’ve been trouble, but only in response to bigger trouble. It hasn’t been an easy road getting here . . . not by any means,” replied John.

The big man nodded and said, “What brings you here, anyway?”

“We’re heading to a family ranch in Colorado,” said John.

Carter grunted and said, “Then you’ve got a long road ahead of you.” He looked at the payment in John’s arm and asked, “You ready to settle up? Looks like you folks are eager to leave. And frankly, I’ve got work to do myself.”

“Two boxes of .308 and ten-ounces of pure silver. I think that covers our fee . . . wouldn’t you agree?”

The big man accepted John’s offer and said, “I agree. It’s a pleasure doing business with you. It’s nice to meet honest folk these days. So many people just want to take whatever they can.” Carter turned away, but then he paused and faced John again. “You know, I’ve got an organized little group of people not far from here. We’re set up pretty nice, given the circumstances. We could sure use some good folks like you. You know, to keep things running and such. I can make it nice for you.”

“That’s a very generous offer, sir. But I must decline. We’re very committed to our plan. But it was a pleasure meeting you. Like you said, there’s a shortage of good people running around these days, and we’re needed elsewhere.”

The big man nodded and said, “We’ll just pull around you and get to work. You take your time leaving. I don’t want to force you along before you’re ready.”

“We’re ready. But can I ask a favor of you?”

“Sure. Just name it.”

“If any government folks come around asking questions, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything about our contact.”

Carter nodded and let fly a wad of spit. It was the most familiar form of contempt John knew, and he appreciated it as soon as he saw it. It told him everything he needed to know about Carter’s feelings for the government. “I’ll not help them yahoos in any way, shape or form,” said Carter. “They’re what got us into this mess in the first place. You have nothing to worry about from us.”

They shook hands again and John said, “It was a pleasure meeting you, sir.”

“Nope. Pleasure’s all mine. Good day to you, sir,” said Carter as he touched the brim of his hat and returned to the Ram.

John did likewise; he returned to his vehicle to prepare the company for their departure. Pete already had the boys down from the hay, and the entire company was assembled behind the dually, standing in a rough circle. John walked up and said, “Is everyone ready to roll?”

“I’ve got something to say,” said Pete.

“Shoot,” replied John.

“Well . . . that’s just it,” said Pete. “There was no shooting. Thanks John. I apologize for not trusting you more. You did it the right way, brother.”

John looked at Pete, and all the other faces staring back at him, before saying, “I feel our road is no longer one of death and destruction. Survival, yes, but not at the expense and danger to others. That means things will probably change for us, but I can’t help but feel like we’ve passed into some new level of awareness.”

Marissa asked, “What kind of change?”

“Well, the kind that means it’s better to take a hit than kill,” said John.

“What do you mean by, ‘take a hit?’” asked Paul.

“I mean, it’s better to part with some of what we have than to kill needlessly,” replied John. “We’re entering a new level of awareness, and I think we can expect a bigger purpose of ourselves.”

“Speak for yourself,” said Paul. And when everyone turned to look at him, he showed surprise and said, “What I mean is, you’re so far past us that I don’t think we’ll ever catch up to you.”

“I agree,” said Pete.

John realized that Pete and Paul had already told the company about what he did before talking to Carter. He looked at Jenna and asked, “You know what happened just now?”

“About how you stepped out without . . . having to lie down, or something? Yeah. He told us. What’s going on here, John?” said Jenna. “I don’t understand. First it’s you, then Marissa, and then Pete and Adam, and now . . .” She let her sentence trail off before adding, “I don’t know. It’s all so very strange to us.” She then reached down and took Bonnie’s hand in hers.

When Jenna grabbed Bonnie’s hand, John knew instantly that Jenna and Bonnie had had dreams of their own. Why they hadn’t yet shared them with the company was curious to John, but he wasn’t about to bring it up just as they were about to leave. He knew there would be time to discuss their dreams while they drove.

On an impulse, John almost asked the company, “Who here hasn’t had a dream since leaving?” but he knew it wasn’t the right time to bring up such an important issue. Something like that would need time to discuss, and they didn’t have the time. Instead he said, “I don’t really know what’s going on with us as a company, but whatever it is, I believe we’re special. I believe we’re doing something much more important than we realize. And I also believe we don’t need to be afraid anymore. We can talk more about this tonight. For now, we really need to get rolling. Marissa, will you please offer us a prayer for the road?”

Marissa reached out to take Michael’s hand on the one side, and Paul’s on the other. The rest of the company followed her lead and took the hand of the person standing next to them. When the circle was complete, Marissa bowed her head and offered a beautiful and heartfelt prayer to Heavenly Father. After she closed it in the name of Jesus Christ, she said, “Group hug!” Everyone mashed together. The little kids loved it, and everyone smiled and began to laugh.

CHAPTER 17

WALLS

T
he crack of a twig, barely discernible above the sounds of heavy vehicles rumbling by - yet again - on the roadway overhead, brought Mark and Sage to their feet simultaneously. Without turning to Lauren, Mark said quietly, “We have company.” He then silently unlatched the safety strap over his pistol grip and rested his hand on it, ready to draw and shoot quickly if needed.

Sage growled low, and then turned and trotted off to Mark’s right, quickly and silently disappearing into the inky darkness beyond the rim of light cast by a small campfire. Mark had built it in a small depression under the overpass, and he was very concerned about how it would illuminate the nearby columns and underside of the roadway, and overtly broadcast their location and activity to anyone passing to within a few hundred yards of their camp. He didn’t like open fires in the dark, but Lauren had insisted, for the sake of the boys.

So he wasn’t surprised when he heard the approach of an unwelcome guest. The entire fire-thing screamed out against his better judgment for light discipline, and now here he was, facing a prowler in the dark, with eyes slow to adjust. He signaled his intentions to Lauren and crept off into the dark, away from where the sound originated so he could attempt to approach it from behind.

In the days that followed the disaster, every threat was dangerous. Everything had to be taken seriously, as even the safest of intentions could quickly shift to danger. Death was all around them, and all too willing to exert itself on the unprepared and reckless. Then again, Mark knew even prepared and cautious people could be asked to pay the debt
of life. Since leaving San Antonio, he saw every day as another one closer to death. Every day was a bonus day now that the world was falling apart around them.

But none of that seemed to matter to Lauren. Explaining the risk of building even a small fire didn’t seem to matter to her. She was more concerned about the wellbeing of the kids than all their safety. Or perhaps she was confident in Mark and Sage’s ability to protect them. Still, it meant opening themselves to danger, and that’s something Mark didn’t like.