Windigo Soul (23 page)

Little burgs like Wilson, Stratford, and beyond, were spared since they’d been abandoned and left to ruin years earlier. Besides, the average citizen had no knowledge of the small towns and woods to the north so there was little threat of them getting repopulated anyway.

He looked up after side-stepping a particularly large crevice in the old highway and finally saw it. Although much of the paint was faded or peeled off, the giant white cow stood out next to the gray horizon beyond. It was standing guard out front of the Wilson Cafe as it had been for the last seventy years, long after the last customer had left. John pulled the gun from his pocket and held it loosely at his side as he crossed the crumbling parking lot. The morning was eerily quiet and his footsteps seemed to echo for miles.

Sanderson peered through the grimy window next to a sign proclaiming
Best Fried Chicken East of the Mississip!
and saw nothing but a dark and dusty dining room.

Other than meeting up near the restaurant after the assault on Windigo and “kidnapping” Sara, he held no other information to go on. He had no idea where everyone would go next. This was intentional, just in case one of them ended up in the interrogation room, but that didn’t make him feel any better now.

He walked to the front of the restaurant and got a clear view of the main road leading into Wilson and the buildings beyond.

He called out and heard nothing in return. “Dammit,” he muttered to himself. He looked around for any sort of sign or signal. Even something as simple as a small arrow formed out of pebbles or something, but he didn’t have his hopes up. Any message to him could also be found by the State and he knew Grayson wasn’t that stupid.

“Looking for somebody, Brother?” a voice boomed from above.

Sanderson spun around and pointed the Glock skyward. Holden Grayson stood on the edge of the roof of the Wilson Cafe, an assault rifle resting in his hands and a smile on his face. John lowered the gun. “I could’ve shot you, ya know.”

“Shoot your only ride out of here? Now that wouldn’t be very smart. You look like shit, John.”

“Morning to you too, asshole.”

Holden grinned and jabbed his thumb behind him. “Meet me around back so we can get the hell out of here.”

Chapter 40

Sanderson drained the entire bottle of water Holden gave him and sat back in the seat with a groan.

“You had me worried for a while there,” Holden said. He slammed the car door shut and fished the keys out of his pocket. “The old man was considering giving up on you but I volunteered to stay behind for another few days just in case you made it.”

“Sara okay?”

“She’s fine.” Holden’s smile faded. “She was overjoyed to see her parents again, but…man, it’s none of my business, but you’re going to have a lot of explaining to do.”

Sanderson sighed. “Don’t I know it. I’m just glad she’s safe.”

Holden started up the car and the radio came to life, weak and static-filled, but audible.

“…for about four hours while local authorities investigated the crash. No survivors have been found yet. Fire fighters are still struggling to contain wild fires to the North today even after emergency crews from other sectors arrived to help earlier this week. In a statement released late last night, Department of Defense spokesperson Madeline James confirmed the blaze started after an F-34 bomber from Fort Klamath Air Force base accidentally released nuclear ordinance during a training exercise. Fortunately, the explosion and spreading fire that followed, occurred in a remote and uninhabitable area. James assured all citizens that they are perfectly safe and there is no cause for concern at this time.

“In a related story, State officials have confirmed the video recently released by the terrorist organization known as the People’s Libertarian Militia, is indeed one hundred percent fake after careful analysis of the footage. The PLM took credit for the explosion in the North by claiming they destroyed a secret power plant run by retirees over the age of sixty.

“Vice Chancellor Albinger dismissed the PLM as quote, ‘dangerous right-wing radicals,’ and added the recent blackouts have nothing to do with the destruction of a fictional power plant. ‘Several power lines were destroyed due to the training accident,’ Albinger said. ‘Crews are working around the clock to restore service as soon as possible. As far as those videos are concerned, the good citizens of the State are too smart to be fooled by a few gray wigs and special effects. The only thing these clips show is how desperate the PLM has gotten. I can assure you, they know their time is short and they’ll soon face justice for the crimes they’ve committed against the good people of the State.’”

Holden switched off the radio as he pulled out into the road. “They know how to spin it, that’s for sure.”

Sanderson cracked the seal on another bottle of water and took a sip. “Think it did any good?”

“That’s up to my dad, not me,” Holden shrugged. “But I saw the video before we sent it out. It’s good. Real good. You can be sure some people will take it at face value even if most of the lemmings will believe it’s a fake just because big brother said so.”

“So where we headed?” Sanderson looked out the window at what was left of downtown Wilson. It looked like half the town burned to the ground years ago. Not by the State’s bombs, but probably by something as simple as a bolt of lightning.

“Couple hours’ north. We’re hunkered down at an old lodge for now.”

“Great.” Sanderson crossed his arms and tried to get comfortable. “Wake me up when we get there.”

“Sure thing.”

“Hey, Holden? Thanks. For everything.”

Holden looked at him and opened his mouth to say something but shut it when he saw Sanderson was serious. He nodded. “You’re welcome.”

Chapter 41

Two Months Later

Hank rubbed up against the rough bark of the tree he’d been leaning against, scratching an itch in the middle of his back. He swung the rifle he’d been holding over his shoulder and rubbed his hands together. The days were getting shorter and cooler and he regretted not grabbing a pair of gloves before leaving camp earlier that afternoon.

Movement in the trees ahead. His pulse quickened as he grabbed the rifle by the strap and held it up against his shoulder. He glassed the area through the scope where he thought he saw something just seconds earlier. Hank glanced to the man on his right flank, one hundred yards away further up the ridge. He looked bored, sitting on a fallen tree and staring off into the woods. The guy on Hank’s left flank was standing, but looked just as relaxed. It was a safe bet neither of them saw anything. There was no way for Hank to communicate with them besides shouting. That was out of the question since it would give away their position.

Hank exhaled and lowered the rifle. Probably nothing. He checked his watch as his stomach growled and he bent over in an attempt to stretch his sore hamstring. The bullet, courtesy of Lieutenant Hendricks, was removed and the wound healed just fine. But a low ache accompanied him most days and the colder weather wasn’t helping. At least the ringing in his right ear had finally faded and his hearing had returned to normal. Doctor Jasper said the ruptured ear drum would heal on its own after a few months and it turned out he was right. Hank wasn’t all that confident of the veterinarian’s diagnosis at the time, but the animal doc turned people doc had proved himself worthy many times since then. Still, he’d feel better if Jasper had an MD after his name as Sara’s due date grew closer.

A sapling directly fifty yards in front of him moved, too sudden and violent to be caused by the wind. Hank raised his rifle again as a surge of adrenaline blocked out the ache in his leg and the cold in his bones. This was it. A second later, a man came into view behind the shaking reticle of his rifle scope. It was his son-in-law, John.

“Crap,” Hank muttered to himself as he lowered the rifle. Men on either side of John, spaced twenty-five yard apart, came into view as they headed toward Hank and the other shooters holding the line. Another failed drive.

Hank met John half-way, shaking his head in disappointment. “Nothing, huh?” John asked.

“Nope. At this point, if a deer ran through I don’t even know if I’d want to shoot it. They could be at the point of extinction.”

“Yeah, well so are we if we don’t get some fresh meat in camp,” John muttered. The hunters gathered in a loose formation and started the hike back to the camp. It would be dark soon and they were all tired, cold, and hungry.

Camp was an old state park not too far from the lodge Hank woke up in. It was heavily wooded, remote, and primarily chosen by the group thanks to its old quarry lake that provided a source of water. The lake was a shadow of its former self, only about fifteen feet deep, but the cold fresh water it provided made the difficult chore of pumping it up the steep cliffs worth it. A couple of picnic shelters and an old museum used for shelter made it as good a place as any for the group to stay. Unfortunately, the hunting prospects weren’t panning out.

The hunting party passed the sentry on the edge of camp and attracted the attention of Holden Grayson as he pulled a wagon full of firewood across the old picnic field. He dropped it and wiped his hands on the back of his legs. “No luck?” he asked Hank and John as they approached.

“Not a damn thing,” John said. “Not even a squirrel.” He nodded at the groups of people walking towards the old museum. “What’s going on?”

“My dad wants everybody together for a meeting. You guys are just in time.”

“What about?” Hank asked.

“You got me,” Holden said. “But the old man loves a good speech. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” He picked up the wagon handle and pulled it in the direction of the museum.

Hank spotted Peg and Sara walking together and he waved. Peg waved back before Sara said something to her and the pair split up. Peg headed their way as Sara walked to the museum alone. “So how’s it going with you two?” Hank asked his son-in-law.

“She actually spoke to me the other day. I think I might be wearing her down.”

“She’ll come around,” Hank said. “A baby needs both parents and I have a feeling it’ll bring the two of you back together.”

John stopped and cleared the action on his rifle before pulling the magazine out. He didn’t like to have it loaded in camp. “I dunno. What if you found out your entire marriage to Peg was all one big lie? She was out assassinating innocent people instead of pulling network cables?” He watched as Sara slipped through the door of the museum and shook his head. “If my situation was reversed? I don’t know if I’d be able to forgive her.”

“She’ll come around,” Hank said again. “It’ll take some time, but that’s what it takes to heal old wounds. It’s a cliche’ because it’s true. And don’t forget, without you she wouldn’t have gotten her family back. She hasn’t forgotten that.” Hank slapped John on the back. “And neither have I.”

“Hey, guys!” Peg approached with a big smile on her face. Her cheeks were red from the cold and her silver hair peeked out from underneath her blue wool hat. She’d never been more beautiful. Hank hugged her and felt the stirrings of desire as he kissed her warm lips. He didn’t know if it was the near-death experience for the both of them or the excitement of being on the run together, but their libidos had been on overdrive ever since their reunion. Hank hadn’t seen so much action since his twenties. “No venison for dinner I suppose,” Peg said.

“Not tonight. Looks like it’s more rice and canned peas.”

“Let’s get inside,” John said. “See what’s going on.”

“Sounds good to me.” Peg hooked her arm around Hank’s arm on the right side and grabbed John by the left. “Escorted by the two most handsome men in camp.”

Hank chuckled. Learning about John’s past was a big shock to Peg as well but she got over it a lot quicker than their daughter. The three of them found Sara and squeezed into the back of the room up against the wall.

The old museum was an octagon-shaped building with a tall open ceiling. With all the partitions and displays removed, it was large enough to hold the entire group when needed. The room was abuzz with conversation and quite comfortable thanks to all the body heat.

“Oh,” Sara said. Her hands went to her belly.

Peg grabbed her arm. “Honey, what is it?”

“I think I felt the baby move!” Sara took her mother’s hand and placed it on her stomach. “It was right about here.”

John shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled. Sara beamed at her parents and her smile faltered when she locked eyes with him. “Would you like to feel?” Sara asked him.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” He got closer and put his hand on her belly. She took his wrist and moved it to where she’d felt the flutter. Hank and Peg took a few steps back and started up some small talk with another couple.

Sara looked up at him. “Do you feel anything?”

“No, I…wait!” His eyes widened. “I did, I… whoa!” He felt it directly underneath his palm. A big healthy kick. “That’s amazing,” he whispered.

“She knows it’s her father,” Sara said.

“She?”

“Just a hunch.”

“I miss you,” John blurted out. He immediately regretted it.

“I miss you too. What I thought was you.” Sara’s lower lip quivered. “I don’t know who you are anymore.” A single tear rolled down her cheek.

John wiped the tear with his finger. “I’m having a hard time figuring that out myself lately.”

“Can you promise me just one thing?”

“Anything.”

“No more lies.”

John shook his head. “I have absolutely nothing to hide from you. Just give me a chance and you won’t be sorry.”

James Grayson’s voice boomed from the other side of the room. “Can I have your attention, folks?” He stood on a table up against the far wall. The small talk in the room tapered off.

John took Sara by the hand. She didn’t pull away.

“Folks.” Grayson held up his hands. “Quiet down, please. By now we’ve all heard the phony news reports. We all heard the spin and the lies the State whips up to try and cover the truth about what we accomplished. But it’s not working. They’re scared and it’s starting to show.