Strengthen What Remains (Book 2): A Time to Endure (20 page)

Out
of the foggy darkness, Caden heard Fletcher’s voice. “We gotta go. Can you
move?”

Gradually
his eyes focused. There was a seat above him. Caden shook his head. The Humvee
was upside down.

Fletcher,
on his hands and knees, was half in and out where a window should have been.

Bullets
pinged off the Humvee.

At
the sound of cursing, Caden looked forward. Tyler hung upside and, using a
knife, cut the seat belt.

Gilbert
was sprawled nearby. A gaping wound to his head told Caden he was dead.

“Where’s
Conner?”

“Outside
providing cover.” Fletcher backed out of the Humvee. “Let’s get out of here.”

Tyler
plopped down with more cursing.

Caden
grabbed an M4 and crawled out. Bullets pinged and ricocheted around him.

Corporal
Tyler followed, slapped a magazine into his rifle and, when a ricochet whipped
by, said, “It was safer hanging upside down in the Humvee!”

“How
many shooters?” Caden asked.

Fletcher
fired. “Six maybe seven.”

The
muzzle flash smacked Caden across his face. He turned and saw a man fall.

Conner
fired from behind a nearby concrete barrier as terrorists attacked from his
right.

After
pulling his pistol from the holster, Caden fired at two others. “We need to get
out of here. Where are the rest of the soldiers?”

“The
army made contact…” Fletcher fired a three round burst. “…with the terrorists,
but they hightailed it south, just like we expected.”

Both
men fired.

Another
terrorist fell.

“I
took a few men to look for you when you didn’t show.” Fletcher shot to his
right. “Figured you were close. Most of the soldiers are at the southern
chokepoint of the trap.”

Bullets
slammed into the Humvee.

Caden
pointed to a six foot cement planter nearby and shouted to Tyler. “Can you get
there if we provide cover?”

He
nodded.

“Go!”
Caden said.

Both
he and Fletcher fired continuous bursts.

Tyler
slid behind it like a runner going into home plate, gave a thumb’s up to Caden,
and began shooting.

“Where
are the men with you?” Caden asked.

Fletcher
point in one direction and then fired in another.

Caden
changed magazines, shot a terrorist, and then looked where Fletcher had
pointed. Three soldiers fired from the roof of a nearby drugstore. Others shot
from windows. “That’s a better position.”

Bullets
slammed the ground inches from them throwing asphalt and dust in their faces.

“You
don’t need to tell me that,” Fletcher said.

Over
the roar of battle Conner yelled, “RPG!”

Caden
turned, saw the man with the launcher and shot, but missed. He smacked Fletcher
on the shoulder. “Run!”

Fletcher
raced toward the drugstore.

Caden
and Tyler provided cover.

A
shooter slammed back against a car and collapsed.

Conner
stood behind the concrete barrier, and fired repeated bursts.

The
Jihadist with the RPG fell.

Two
terrorists shot at Conner.

The
private fell back hitting the ground with a thud.

Tyler
returned fire hitting one of the shooters.

Caden
shot at the other.

Silence
reigned over the area.

“Cover
me.” Caden shouted. He ran to Conner and pulled him to a safer spot. The only
sound Caden heard was his heart pounding in his ears. He knelt and pressed two
fingers to the young soldier’s neck but couldn’t find a pulse. “First Sergeant,
have the men check the enemy positions.”

“You
heard him. Secure the area, check the bodies.” Fletcher shouted. “But be
careful. Some of them could be alive.” Fletcher then jogged over to Caden. “How
is Conner?”

In
the distance came the sound of gunfire.

“Dead.”
Caden closed the young soldier’s eyes.

The
radio on both Caden and Fletcher crackled. “Fletcher, this is Golf 181.
“Engaging the enemy.”

“Golf
181, this is Westmore. We will be approaching from the rear.”

“Roger
that. Glad to hear your voice.”

Caden
turned to Fletcher. “Do we have a vehicle?”

“No,
but we’re less than a mile from the chokepoint.”

“Okay,
we run back,” Caden said. “Let’s do a quick intel check while the men collect
gear and rig a stretcher for Conner’s body.” He looked back at the overturned
Humvee. “I need to get something.”

Minutes
later, as Caden slid the body of his brother from the vehicle; he heard the
crunch of gravel and looked up.

“We
have eight dead Jihadists,” Fletcher said. “We have two walking wounded. Our
only causalities were Private Conner and Gilbert, but…who…ah, is
this your
brother?”

“Yes.”
Caden stared at the bag. He thought he should feel something, but he didn’t. He
wiped the sweat from his brow. “Are we ready to move out, First Sergeant?”

“Yes,
sir, but before we go sir, remember you told me to pick from the volunteers for
your part of this operation?”

Caden
nodded.

“Well,
every man in the unit volunteered.”

“Everyone?”

“Yes,
sir. I added Conner because I figured he would be safer with you.”

“I
guess I would have thought the same. Thanks, First Sergeant.

Caden
scanned the area and shouted. “Okay, we’ve got more fighting to do so, let’s
move out.” Along with another man, Caden hoisted Peter’s body and ran toward
the next fight.

*
              
*
              
*

Caden
handed the mic back to the radio operator after providing his preliminary
post-battle report. The terrorists had hit them hard. Seven were dead, fifteen
wounded. Four were serious; a chopper from the logistics base was inbound for
them. The rest were well enough to return with the unit.

As
he walked away he felt strangely detached, like a ghost haunting the living. He
saw, but only vaguely perceived.

He
moved without direction.

The
air was still.

No
dogs barked.

No
birds chirped.

This
had been a park beside a river. The grass was green, but not mowed. To his left
was a towering bridge. The sun shone on all of it.

He
felt nothing.

Only
then did he realize he stood among the dead.
 

Eight
body bags lay in a line before him.

He
knelt by the first body bag. Slowly he unzipped it, looked the soldier in the
face. “Corporal Gilbert. You were the best marksman in your squad.”

He
moved on to the next. “Private Chambers. You were brave and always the first to
volunteer.”

The
dead eyes of the next soldier stared up at Caden and twisted his gut into a
knot. “Private Steven Conner. I learned your name just an hour ago. Thank you
for having my back.”
So
many have died.
He looked
down the row of dead and remembered one of them was his brother. Thoughts of
Peter stirred emotion back into him. In a voice barely above a whisper he
asked, “Why God?”

“They
say that God puts us where we need to be.”

Caden
stood and looked at Fletcher. “I shouldn’t have said that out loud. It’s not
good for soldiers to ask existential questions.”

“I’m
not sure what existential means, but I think we all ask God why things happen.”
Looking at Conner the first sergeant said, “I think he saved you.”

Caden
followed his gaze. “He provided cover fire that gave you time to get to me and
stayed on point. He may have saved us both.”

“True,”
Fletcher said. “However, in the big scheme of things I don’t matter, but you
do.”

Caden
cast him a questioning look. “You matter to me and to a lot of the soldiers.”

“Yes,
sir, I’m not saying people don’t care for each other, it’s…well…Hansen wouldn’t
have survived without Sheriff Hoover, but he was just trying to save the town.”

“What
about Brooks? What about you?”

“Me?
I’m no leader, just a good follower. Brooks, he’ll be a fine officer in a few
years, but when you came he was just trying to keep things together at the
armory. You were the one that got people working on the power plant, you had
the idea of finding greenhouses and you stopped Durant’s forces at the
causeway. You had vision.”

Caden
felt his face flush at Fletcher’s tribute, as he recalled the verse in
Proverbs, ‘Where there is no vision, the people perish.’ He remembered the
preacher asking, ‘Who will stand in the gap,’ and the Chaplain talking about
rebuilding what had been broken. He looked at the row of fallen soldiers.
“Perhaps we are all exactly where God needs us, but I’m sorry they needed to be
here.”

Fletcher
nodded.

Soldier’s
arrived and carried off the bodies.

Caden
and Fletcher headed back toward the vehicles.

Thinking
of Maria, Caden said, “I wonder how everyone is doing back in Hansen.”

“We
left on Monday and it’s what…Thursday? How much could go wrong?”

Maria
yawned as she turned into the hospital parking lot. It was just after eight in
the morning, and she had been up since dropping Caden off at the armory.
This is going to be a long Monday. I’ll take
a nap in the waiting room while Sue sees the doctor.

She
had planned to let Sue off at the hospital entrance and then park the car, but
a Humvee blocked the lane. A soldier stood outside signaling them to pull into
the parking lot.
 

“I’ll
get us as close as I can,” she said with a frown.

“I
can walk,” Sue said. “I’m just slow and I waddle.”

Both
women laughed.

Maria
pulled into a spot across from the main doors. A police car, with lights
flashing, was right where she would have dropped Sue off.
What’s going on?
She helped Sue out of the car.

As
they walked toward the building, Sue gestured with her eyes toward the homeless
people camped along the edge of the lot. “They always make me nervous, but
today I think we have plenty of protection.”

Maria
smiled anxiously. “Yes, but why are they all here?”

“Who
cares? I’m just thankful they are.”

Though
it was still early, about a dozen people were in the lobby. A nurse sat behind
a long counter. A janitor mopped in the corner. The rest were waiting
patients.
  

“Oh,
look, down the hall, isn’t that David with the deputy? And the guy between
them,
is he the one you were talking about?”

Maria
looked to her right and immediately recognized both Brooks and Cruz.

“He
has a lot of tattoos.”

Maria
shuddered. “Let’s go the other way, okay?” She turned, and holding Sue’s arm, led
her toward a door on their left.

As
they approached the lobby exit a shot rang out.

Maria
spun around.

The
janitor held a gun still pointed at the falling deputy.

The
room erupted in chaos and screams.

Brooks
spun toward the shooter, dropping to his knee as he did, and fired.

The
janitor collapsed to the floor.

Cruz,
still in hand and leg cuffs, raced out the door.

Steady
gunfire raged outside the building.

Beside
Maria, a man stood slowly and aimed at Brooks.

“David!”
She hit the man with her fist.

The
gunman turned and, with an amused expression, pointed his weapon at Maria.

What can I do?
Maria forced her eyes
from the gun to the man.

Three
quick shots threw the man over the row of seats.

David’s
eyes scanned the room as he slowly stood. He motioned for Maria to come and
then handed her the deputy’s pistol. “Where’s Sue?”

“She
was with me a minute ago.”

 
“Find her and stay safe. I’ve got to go.”
Crouching he ran outside.

With
the gun at the ready, Maria trotted across the lobby.

A
woman, hiding behind chairs, muffled a scream.

“I’m
one of the good guys…gals, whatever,” Maria said. “Sue where are you?”
Continuing in the direction they had gone, Maria pushed one side of the nearby
double doors, but it opened only partway before it bumped against something.
Hearing rapid breathing, she stepped through on the other side.

With
only her head and shoulders off the floor, Sue lay against the wall. She braced
her large belly with both hands as panicked breaths ushered in and out.

“Are
you okay?”

She
nodded. “I think today…just became…the day.”

Through
the window in the door Maria saw two security guards rush across the lobby. Not
wanting to get shot by a nervous security guard, she placed the gun in her
jacket pocket. “I’ll get a wheelchair.”

“No.”
Sue gritted her teeth and moaned. “Don’t leave. Help me stand.” When Sue was on
her feet she asked, “Is David okay?”

Maria
looked over her shoulder into the room she had just left. “I don’t know. I’ll
get you situated and then I’ll check.” Still looking through the window in the
door her eyes focused on the fallen deputy and then the two gunmen. She wanted
to cry, to scream, but nothing came.

Sue
leaned on Maria and together they walked slowly toward the maternity unit.

*
              
*
              
*

Zach
adjusted the scope on his AR-15. After he helped load the convoy, he returned
home, packed camping gear and established a primitive campsite on the rock
outcrop across from Bo’s house. Over the last two days the crook had left the
house about nine in the morning, but today he caught Zach by surprise when he
departed before dawn.

You’ve got to come home
sometime Bo.
Using a bipod, Zach had his rifle aimed at the front door.
  

As
he watched the house, the sun had risen to an orange splotch on the horizon and
now it was a yellow disk peeking over the trees. The breeze coming off the
coast was cool, but he could no longer see his breath. Birds chirped, somewhere
a dog barked, and children laughed, but there was no Bo.

Watching
the house, Zach’s hatred for Bo boiled within him like a witch’s brew.
Somebody should kill him. Why not me? I have
every right to. Get back here Bo so I can finish this!

He
was so consumed by his own thoughts that he didn’t hear Bo’s Cadillac approach.
Leisurely, the car pulled into the driveway and stopped. The bodyguard exited
and then Bo.
 

Why were you out so
early, Bo?
As he watched the man through the scope, Zach tried to control his breathing.
His heart pounded in his chest and thumped in his ears.

Zach
sucked in a deep breath and placed his finger on the trigger.
Why not kill him now?
Bo spoke a few
words to the driver and then walked casually toward the house.
He supplied mom with booze and drugs. She’s
in a coma because of him. He nearly killed her. Pull the trigger! Kill him!

But
he didn’t.

Bo
stepped into the house.

He
cursed and closed his eyes.
Zach, you’re
a coward, a worthless coward!

Bo
stumbled backward out of the house and almost fell to the ground.

Four
Hispanic men poured out.

Zach
pressed his eye to the scope.
MS-13? It
looks like the same guys. Is that Cruz? How did he get out?

The
bodyguard pulled his gun.

Two
of the gang members shot him.

Zach
gasped.

Bo
screamed like a girl.
   

Cruz
pushed Bo toward the Cadillac. “Come on, let’s take a ride.”

Zach
was surprised how much he could hear in the stillness of early morning.

Stepping
on the bodyguard’s arm, one of the other men pulled the gun from the fallen
man’s hand, stuffed it in his pocket and walked on.

Behind
Bo was his car. Around him the gang members formed an ever tightening
semi-circle.

“I
haven’t been able to find him. He hasn’t been at his house for days!” Bo nearly
screamed.

That’s because I’ve
been spending most of my time watching you.

“What
about his mommy and daddy?” Cruz asked.

Bo’s
head twitched from person to person. “His dad is dead. Mom is in a coma.”

Gee, did we miss each
other at the hospital?

“That’s
too bad,” Cruz said. “You haven’t been very useful, and now I don’t see that
you would be any help.”

“Sister.
He has a sister.”

“See,
now wasn’t that easy. She knows where he is. Let’s go find her.”

Quickly
they pushed Bo into the car and sped away.

Vicki!
Zach gulped, and then
jumped to his feet with the realization that his sister was at the hospital.
No, it’s DeLynn at the house. What will they
do when they find her?

Slinging
the rifle on his back, Zach ran into the forest. With panic-induced speed he
sprinted in the direction of his home as he tried to come up with a plan.
The car will have to take the road around
Palmer Ridge.
Images of trails and topography flashed through his mind. The
first part of the path went uphill, but the last portion was mostly down. It
would be tough, but he might be able to arrive before the car.

He
knew DeLynn had a cell phone, now he wished he did.

He
ran.

He
prayed.

God, I know I wanted to
kill Bo, but please don’t let DeLynn be hurt just because I’m no good. Please
keep Vicki at the hospital. Please keep DeLynn safe.

Branches
smacked his face and arms as he ran with fear-inspired haste along the trail.
Within minutes sweat rolled down his forehead. His heart rate climbed as his
feet raced up the hill. Breathing came in quick rasps.

Where
he could, he left the path and scampered up the hill instead of following the
gradual incline and switchbacks of the trail.

He
stumbled, tore his jeans and felt the warm dampness of blood, but any first-aid
would have to wait.

Reaching
the ridgeline he bent over to catch his breath. When he could, he wiped the
sweat from his brow, stood erect, and unzipped his coat. Still taking in great
drafts of air, he searched the highway hundreds of feet below for any sign of
Bo’s car. There was none.

Many
times he had stood in this spot taking in the vista of the valley below, but
not this time. After a quick look at the cut on his leg, and a deep breath, he
took off on the downhill portion of his run.

By
the time he reached the road he was breathing heavily. Using the tree line for
cover he ran along the road. Nearing a short bridge over a creek, he stepped
from the trees. Normally, several cars would be traveling along here during the
day. Zach looked up and down the empty road.
Who could find or afford gas?
Then he answered his own question.
Bo could, but where is his car now?

He
spat, took a deep breath and ran on toward his home.

The other side of this
hill is my house, but if I stay on the road I risk being seen.
With a sigh he ran up
the last hill.

As
he neared the rusty blue trailer he heard a car pull up. Aware of his heavy
breathing, he dared not approach any closer until he could be silent.

When
his breathing was normal, Zach inched toward his home. Staying low he used the
brush as cover. He caught glimpses of Cruz, Bo and the others, but couldn’t
understand what was being said. He edged slowly closer, just as he had done
many times when hunting a deer or elk. When he was behind a moss and fern
covered stump, he saw Cruz holding a gun to Bo’s back as the two stood in the
driveway. Another gang member leaned against the car.

Zach
was sure he was close enough to hear, but no one was saying anything. Carefully
he removed the rifle from his back and, using the scope, turned to the trailer
as a commotion came from inside.

Two
thugs dragged a tearful DeLynn from the house and forced her to her knees about
ten feet from Bo.

Zach’s
heart pounded in his ears. His finger touched the trigger.

DeLynn
leaned forward into Zach’s line of fire.

His
finger jumped off the trigger.

“Now
that we’ve got the sister, we don’t need you,” Cruz said.

Bo
looked at DeLynn, but remained silent.

In
the middle of the driveway, Cruz forced Bo to his knees and shot him in the
head.