Strengthen What Remains (Book 2): A Time to Endure (6 page)

At
the end of another bone chilling day of fishing, Zach walked up the hill still
smiling after his rendezvous with DeLynn. It had been brief, just dropping off
a few fish so she and her parents, wouldn’t go hungry. She had smiled and they
exchanged a quick kiss. That was enough to give him hope for another day.

The
moon peeked from behind the nearly solid cloud cover, casting a dim glow on his
destination, the shed behind his home. Inside, he stowed the traps beside the
net he was making. He stared toward the back where the rifle remained, but did
not retrieve it.
Why did I take something
I don’t know how to use? I’m such an idiot.

Intermittent
flakes of snow greeted him as he stepped from the shed. Distant gunfire echoed
in the hills. He paused and listened until he was certain it was far away. Then
he continued to the dingy, single-wide trailer he called home.

Vicki,
standing at the counter, sang to music only she could hear from the white
earbuds that hung from her ears. With a knife in one hand she filleted, swayed
and sang all at the same time.

Seeing
him, she popped one bud out and opened the knife drawer. “I didn’t hear you
come in. She passed him a knife. “Did you give fish to DeLynn?”

He
felt his face warm. “I gave a couple to her. How did you know?”

She
grinned. “I didn’t, but I know how many we catch and that we usually fillet a
few less. I know it takes you forever to come in at night and I’ve seen how you
look at her.”

Again
his face flushed. “Her parents don’t want me around.”

She
smiled at him. “That’s okay, big brother. They don’t know you.”

For
the next few minutes they worked in silence. When a car drove up the winding
driveway, Vicki went to the window. “Bo,” she said with obvious disgust.

Bo
and their mother stumbled into the house laughing. Both clutched bottles.
 

“Where
did you get the booze?” Zach asked.

“A
new business venture.” Bo collapsed in a seat. He wore a suit with a red tie.
“This is home brew. I buy it from the maker, drink some, share some with
friends like Carol,” he looked at Zach’s mom, “and sell most of it.”

Clumsily,
his mom clutched two glasses and stumbled into a chair beside Bo.

Anger
welled up in Zach like venom in a snake. He considered retrieving his new gun
and chasing Bo off or, better yet, killing him, but he wasn’t sure the rifle
was even loaded or how to reload it if it wasn’t.

As
the two continued to sip the booze, Zach turned, retrieved a fish from the
bucket and started gutting and filleting.
Why
do you drink so much?
He didn’t have words for the emotions of rejection,
disappointment and fear that flooded him.
Why did Dad have to die?
 

Zach
stared at Bo.
You’re the reason Mom is a
drunk. I will kill you someday.
He grabbed another fish and with a savage
thrust cut deep into its belly.

*
              
*
              
*

The
sheriff’s statement confused Caden. “An attack? What do you mean?”

“A
gang broke into a home, killed a mother and child, and then killed the husband
when he came home from the Library Park market and…”

Caden
thought of the men he saw casing the money changer’s stall.

“…then
stole his gray Ford van.”

With all the money,
jewelry and precious metals in it.
“Any more casualties?”

 
“One deputy was wounded and is in route to the
hospital and they’ve shot at several civilians that got in the way during the
chase. They’re now in two vehicles, the van and a blue, older model Chevy lowrider.
We believe the group is headed out of town….”

“What
do you mean ‘believe’? Aren’t you following them?”

“We
lost them when the deputy was shot…”

“Oh,
sorry.”

“…but
based on the direction they were headed and the roads we’ve already blocked
they’ll pass your men either on the North Road or the main highway heading
west.”

“I’ll
alert my soldiers.” Caden walked back toward the armory office and met Brooks
at the door. “Dinner will be late tonight.” He briefed the XO. “Give Fletcher a
description of the autos and have him alert the sentries and patrol.”

While
Brooks talked with Fletcher on the phone, Caden stared at the county map on the
wall. “I want you to take second squad and set up a position on the east side
of the causeway. Maybe we can trap them on it. I’ll take third squad and set up
near the Cowlitz Bridge.

Hearing
Brooks talk to Lisa over the phone, Caden pulled out his own. When Maria
answered he said, “I may be late to dinner tonight.”

*
              
*
              
*

Caden
looked at his watch. He had been standing at the checkpoint on the north side
of the Cowlitz River for nearly an hour. Sandbags formed a four-foot ‘U’ shaped
wall about him. Two deuce and a half trucks formed a chokepoint at the edge of
the bridge beside him. Drivers could pass through, but they had to go really slow.

He
stomped his feet in the snow both to get the blood flowing and to relieve the
boredom. As he turned to get another cup of coffee, the radio on his belt
crackled.

“Caden,
this is Hoover. I’m coming up on your position with lights flashing. Please
don’t shoot me.”

He
smiled and passed word to the men just as the lights of the squad car pierced
the darkness.

After
Hoover parked and walked up, Caden briefed him. “Nothing is happening.”

Slowly
the sheriff looked around and then, with a nod said, “Yeah, I can see that.”

“The
deputy that got shot, how is he?”

“Dr.
Scott is working on him. We’ll know more in the morning.”

Caden
then asked, “Who did the gang kill?”

“His
name was Simon Pettit. He did ammo reloading in the market place.”

“I
figured it was the money changer.”

“Nope.
It was Simon.”

For
nearly a minute the two men looked down the road into the darkness and swirling
snow.

“Did
they get by us?” Caden asked.

Hoover
shrugged. “Your perimeter checkpoints didn’t spot them. I think they just
stopped somewhere. They’re waiting for things to cool.” He stared ahead. “Or
for us to make a wrong move. If I were them, I’d find some house on a side
road, set back a way in the trees, bust in quick….” He let the sentence die.

Caden
didn’t want to imagine what would happen next but, as silence passed between
them, he did.

Hoover
stared into the darkness and then turned to Caden. “I’m going hunting. You be
careful.”

“Me
be
careful? I’m just waiting
here,
you’re the one hunting for killers. Stop for a second.”

Hoover
paused. “What?”

Caden
hollered to Fletcher, “You’re in charge. Call me if anything happens.” He then
pointed at two soldiers, “You guys are with me.”

As
the men packed into a squad car, Hoover called over his shoulder radio for one
of the deputies to meet him. Together they headed into the night in search of
killers.

For
over an hour they cautiously visited homes north and east of Hansen. As they
left yet another one, Caden said, “The closer we get to my place the more
nervous I’m getting.”

Hoover
smiled. “From what you’ve told me about Maria and what I know about your dad,
they’d be fools to go near your place. Besides, they would call if anything
happened.”

Caden
knew that was true. Still he thought about the Westmore farmhouse. It was off
the main road, at the end of a long dirt driveway, trees blocked the view from
many angles. However, it was on a hill and visible from numerous locations, not
as secluded and surrounded by trees as the homes they had been checking. Still,
he was concerned.
What if they see it and
decide that is where they want to hide out?

“Your
turn Mr. Military.”

“What?”

“To
check out the place. A retired couple live here. The driveway is about a
quarter of a mile long. You can’t even see the house from here.”

As
the others set up a perimeter at the road edge, Caden walked toward the home.
Approaching the dwelling was a problem. He didn’t want to look like a criminal
casing the place, but he didn’t want to expose himself either. It seemed best
to approach a residence unseen and check it out. Look for an illuminated room
with curtains pulled back, observe, then knock and talk for final confirmation
that all was well. However, this house was completely dark.
Probably no one is home. But what is open
this late at night that an old….

Booms
and flashes tore from the house.

Caden
dove into the snow.

In
the darkness he heard movement and shots zinging past. He crawled with all his
might for the nearby trees as headlights lit the driveway and the roar of
engines filled the night air.

As
the cars sped by, Caden shouted into his radio. “They’re coming your way!”

The
gunfire became continuous.

Staying
low, Caden hurried through the trees as shots blasted back and forth along the
driveway. The sound of crunching metal and breaking glass came from up ahead.
He quickened his pace, but could only go so fast in the near total darkness of
the forest. Approaching the road, Caden stopped. The van was not in sight, but
the lowrider had hit a tree. Behind the vehicle were two people, one man was
shooting at the soldiers and Hoover, the other was limp on the ground.

Taking
careful aim at the torso, Caden fired a three round burst. The man dropped in a
heap.

Within
seconds the shooting died down.

“Hold
your fire! It’s me, Caden.” He waved as he came out of the woods.

“Glad
to see you’re still with us,” the sheriff said.

Caden
trotted across the road to the lowrider and checked the first body. Three shots
were in a tight group to the chest. The next man had been hit in both the head
and chest. His mother couldn’t have identified him.

Standing
in the middle of the road Hoover asked, “Are they dead?”

“Yes.”

“Come
on then, we’ve got to follow that van.” Hoover left the deputy at the house and
called over the radio for backup at that location.

Caden
was certain that the deputies would find all the gang members gone and no one
alive in the house.

Hoover
spun the tires of the squad car in the snow and then with a jolt regained
traction. Caden called over his radio for third squad to come in their
direction as they gathered speed and pursued the van.
     

*
              
*
              
*

A
gunshot boomed nearby. Startled, Zach dropped his knife on the counter.
Abandoning the last fish he had to fillet he tentatively stepped to the window
and pulled the curtain back an inch or two.

More
shots and muzzle flashes came from the road down the hill.
That’s the direction of DeLynn’s house.

Zach
looked at his mother asleep in the chair with a half-full glass of booze still
in her hand.

Bo
tried to stand, but fell awkwardly back in the chair. “Get away from the window
boy, it’s dangerous. Best to stay here with your mom and me.”

Vicki
never agreed with Bo, but this time she nodded with a worried look.

With
a shake of the head the young man strode toward the door, grabbed his coat and
stepped into the storm.

Despite
the swirling wind and bang of gunfire, Zach heard shouts in Spanish. Curious but
scared, he retrieved his bow from the shed. The military rifle might have been
a more effective weapon, but he didn’t know how to use it and was much more
confident with the bow.

Out
of hunting habit, Zach headed into the forest downwind of the noise. Making a
large arch through woods he knew well, he slowly came back toward the clamor.
It was clear the gunfight was along the road, but he could discern little else.
Concerned that he might be hit by a stray bullet, he hiked back up the hill a
few yards and moved parallel to the fight. Between the trees he snatched
glimpses of a battle between soldiers and civilians.

Zach
moved into a better position near the top of a steep slope. He strained to see
detail. Only a single light from DeLynn’s home and the glow of moonlight,
diffused through clouds, provided illumination. From the tracks in the snow, it
appeared the gray van had spun out in a turn and slid off the road. The
occupants were using the vehicle as cover and firing on the advancing soldiers.
From shouts in Spanish, Zach guessed that the civilians were members of a
Mexican gang.