The Defiant: An Unbeaten Path (5 page)

BOOK: The Defiant: An Unbeaten Path
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Proctor recoiled from the superficial cut.

“Oops, sorry,” Cam said with a devilish grin.

Several of his men laughed then walked back to the small campfire.

Nicholas shot Cam a hard look then turned his attention to Proctor, who looked as happy as one could be considering their situation.

“Can you remove his gag?” Nicholas asked.

“Sure,” Cam responded and ordered one of his men to take it off.

With the gag removed, Proctor spit and moved his jaw around. A small trickle of blood streamed down his right cheek.

“You all right?” Nicholas asked.

“Yeah,” Proctor answered.

Nicholas looked at Cam and began to really size him up. He was a large man, well over six feet, with wide shoulders and thick arms. His clothes were soiled and what skin was exposed was streaked with dirt and grime. He and his men had the appearance that they’d been living off the land for a while.

“Any way we can get something to eat?” Nicholas asked.

“I don’t see why not,” Cam said and motioned to one of his men to get something.

“Where’s the kid who led us here?” Nicholas asked, looking around.

“The little shit took off with his sister. He’s a sly one, just like his old man,” Cam said.

Nicholas thought this odd. “He wasn’t with your group?”

“Hell no, that little snot was from that shit hole a few miles north. We snatched them hoping we could use them in exchange if the townspeople caught up with us, but he came in handy as bait instead.”

Nicholas got this sense that the men were on the run. “Are those townspeople coming after you?”

Cam squatted down and said, “I’ll say this because I’m a nice guy, so I’ll give you a sound bit of advice. Those people are more depraved than this pack of assholes.” Cam then pointed to his men around the fire.

One of Cam’s men walked up and tossed wrapped granola bars on the ground in front of Nicholas. “Bon appetit.”

“Are you going to feed us?” Nicholas asked rhetorically as he turned to show his bound wrists.

“Untie them,” Cam ordered. “But don’t even think about anything stupid,” he then said to Proctor and Nicholas.

“I wouldn’t think of it.”

With their arms unbound, Nicholas and Proctor tore open the wrappers and began to devour the bars.

“When you’re done with those, we’ll go get my vehicles,” Cam said and walked off but left one of his men to stand guard over them.

With his mouth full, Proctor asked, “You sure this is a good idea?”

“Would you rather I let him carve you up?”

“Ah, no.”

“How about a bit of thanks.”

“You’re right, thank you.”

“It’s going to be a long walk north.”

“Can we get some water? These things are like sawdust,” Nicholas asked.

“Argh, you guys are a pain in the ass. Don’t you run,” he grunted and walked away to get water.

“What, are we going to hop away?” Nicholas snorted, referring to their ankles still being bound.

With him gone, Nicholas leaned in and quietly said, “I have no intention of giving them our vehicles, just buying time here.”

“So what’s your plan?”

Nicholas stuffed half a bar into his mouth and answered honestly, “I don’t have one, yet.”

Cam had given Proctor and Nicholas an hour to rest before coming forward to tell them what was next.

“Now that you’ve had time to plan whatever bullshit you think you’ll try, let me dash those plans,” Cam said and pulled a handheld radio from his belt. Before he pressed the button, he said, “We found a prepper who had these neatly tucked away in some box. I’m so grateful for people like him; he was ready for this sort of thing.”

Nicholas knew Cam’s type; they were the marauders he had heard would roam after an event like the one they were living. They never had any intention of preparing; they would arm themselves and then set upon others and steal.

Cam broadly smiled, showing his yellow-stained teeth and reddish gums. He keyed the radio and said, “Ben, this is Cam. Tell me, what do you see?”

Nicholas had a sick feeling, as he knew where Ben was.

“I see a big nigger and a few bitches running around. Nothing new since last time.”

“How many vehicles and what type?” Cam asked.

“Some old sedan and a Suburban with a trailer.”

Cam again grinned and said, “Is that enough incentive for you two not to try anything? Cause if you do, I won’t have a choice but to open up on your little group.”

A wave of clashing emotions came over Nicholas. At first he wanted to lunge for Cam and beat him senseless, but that was quickly tempered when he thought of Becky and Abigail in the crosshairs of Ben.

“I hear you, we won’t try anything,” Nicholas lamented.

“We hear you,” Proctor added.

“Good, now get them up, boys, we have a little hike ahead of us,” Cam ordered.

Nicholas could think more clearly now that his headache had subsided, but he strained to come up with a plan of escape. One obstacle he hadn’t counted on was Cam having a man on site and within radio range. If he tried to attack them, it could lead to a simple call on the radio, which would definitely lead to deadly consequences for the group. Right now his options had dwindled to just slowing them down, but how? They crested a steep hill and what lay ahead was a steep decline into a small valley. He remembered the terrain from their hike out there. They were not far now. Once past the valley, they were only a mile away from the group. He had to find a way to slow them down and the only way was to feign injury.

A large branch lay in front of him several steps down the hill, and if he tripped over it, he’d allow gravity to do the rest. With no other options, he took those steps, jammed an ankle under the branch and fell forward. He hit the ground hard, his chest and right shoulder taking the brunt of the fall. He whipped around and began to roll. All around him he heard the yells of Cam’s men. As he spun down the hill, he began to feel a bit nauseous; then suddenly he stopped, his side slamming into a large tree. The pain was excruciating, but he hoped it would buy him time.

Cam ran down and yelled, “What the hell?”

Nicholas slowly got to his knees but doubled over in pain.

“You’re a clumsy idiot. Now get up,” Cam barked.

“Give me a sec, I hurt my ribs.” Nicholas coughed.

Cam grunted his displeasure and hollered to several of his men, “Get over here and help him.”

Proctor jogged over and knelt next to Nicholas. “That was some fall, you all right?”

Nicholas coughed and spit out some blood. “Um, I think I really hurt myself.”

“Just what we need,” Proctor quipped.

“Get him up,” Cam ordered his men, who surrounded Nicholas and pulled him to his feet.

Once standing, Nicholas bent over in pain. “Argh, fuck, I really think I broke a rib.”

“Does it hurt when you take a breath?” Proctor asked.

“Yes, and it just hurts.”

“What, are you a doctor or something?” Cam asked.

“Actually, yes, I am.”

“We don’t have time for this. Let’s get moving,” Cam yelled.

“Let me examine him first,” Proctor said.

Cam looked up at the sky then back to them. “You have five minutes and then we move.”

“Sit back down,” Proctor ordered Nicholas.

Nicholas did exactly what Proctor said, all the while grimacing in pain.

As Proctor was examining him, Nicholas smiled at the irony of the entire situation.

“What is so funny?” Proctor asked.

“I knew this entire mission was shit, but I just thought that I should be a good guy and allow our little democracy a chance. Wow, what a mistake that was.”

“Well, if I could take it all back, I would. Next time, please smack me upside the head.”

“If we get out of this alive, I plan on kicking your stupid ass,” Nicholas joked.

“Enough grab ass! Get up, we’re moving!” Cam yelled.

“I need another minute,” Proctor replied.

“No, get up, we move!” Cam barked and took a step towards them but stopped suddenly when his head exploded.

Shocked by this unexpected attack but knowing what to do, Nicholas grabbed Proctor by his shirt and ordered, “Get down.”

Cam’s men reacted quickly; they faced the direction of the single gunshot and started firing.

Their volley was matched by whoever was ambushing them with the difference being those attacking were hitting their targets squarely. One by one, Cam’s men were getting fatally hit and dropping. Those who remained returned fire, but it didn’t stop the relentless hail of fire from those hidden.

Nicholas and Proctor curled up against the large tree and took cover as bullets ripped past them. Nicholas was tempted to run, but they were caught in a crossfire. If they were to stand, they would most surely be hit.

Bark and splinters of wood exploded off the tree they were using for cover as bullets from both sides hit it.

Nicholas felt a sharp pain in his lower right side, just below the ribs he had either bruised or broken. He then felt something warm and wet running down his side. He placed his hand there and pulled it back to see it was covered with blood. “Argh,” he grunted in pain and frustration.

Suddenly, the gunfire stopped and silence returned to the forest.

Although he was in tremendous pain, he knew this was the opportunity to make a run for it. “This is our chance,” Nicholas said and grabbed Proctor, but he didn’t move. He looked over his shoulder and saw he was motionless. He rolled him over and saw a bloody hole in his chest. Ignoring his own pain, he knelt over his friend and ripped open his shirt only to discover an errant bullet had struck Proctor, and by its location, it looked like it went through the heart. “Ah, no,” he cried out as he jammed two fingers on Proctor’s throat to check his carotid artery for a pulse. He found nothing.

Nicholas blinked heavily to focus his sight, which had become blurry. His head began to spin, nausea twisted his stomach, and a cold sweat clung to his forehead. He tried to think, but his thoughts were muddled. Frustrated, in pain and losing blood, he tried to calm himself. Again he blinked heavily, but it did no good. Soon he’d be face down. Lost in a fog, he didn’t hear the footsteps behind him.

“Is your friend hurt?” a voice asked.

Nicholas slowly turned around to find two men in ghillie suits. He opened his mouth but only mumbled something unintelligible. He went to get up, but the vertigo finally took over and he passed out.

U.S. Highway 91, six miles southwest of Wellsville, Utah

The gunshots reverberated off the hills and caused a panic with the group.

Becky bolted from the Suburban and ran over to Colin. “That has to be them.”

“Hard to know, but we do have to assume it is,” Colin replied, his eyes glued on the tree line.

Bryn took up a defensive position behind the old Dodge.

Katherine, Abigail, Marjorie and Frank all huddled together just outside the trailer.

Rob followed Bryn’s example and, with a bolt-action rifle, stood in front of the Suburban, covering the road ahead of them.

The gunfire stopped as suddenly as it had happened. The silence of the group and their surroundings was intense.

Becky whispered, “What should we do?”

“Sssh,” Colin snapped. He leaned his head forward and listened.

Nervously she did as he asked and just stood next to him.

The crackle of a radio handset came from a grouping of large shrubs below them and caught his ear. He whispered to Becky, “Get behind me.”

Becky did as he asked without question.

He raised his rifle to his face and looked through his optics in the direction of the sound.

The deafening crack of a rifle jolted Colin and Becky.

A towering figure stepped from within the trees and stopped several feet from the incline. He wavered and dropped to his knees.

Colin swung the rifle towards the man and settled his crosshairs on his chest to see blood pouring from a wound.

“Fucking die!” Bryn said as she squeezed off another round.

The bullet ripped through the man’s chest. The force of the 5.56mm round caused his limp body to fall backwards.

Frank, Marjoy, Sophie and Abigail all look shocked and began to chatter amongst themselves.

Colin continued to scan the trees but after a minute assumed that the man was alone.

Bryn called out, “Cover me.” She jumped over the fortified guardrail and bounded down the steep hill. When she reached the man’s body, she stopped and listened. Believing she was safe, she immediately began searching his dead body for any clues that might tell them who he was and if he had anything to do with the gunfire from earlier. She discovered only the handheld radio, a semiautomatic pistol and a .22 caliber bolt-action rifle. He had no identification or anything that would give them any idea why he was spying on them. Satisfied with her search, Bryn came back to the group only to find them debating their next move.

“We can’t leave, no, we can’t,” Becky declared.

“I’m with Becky,” Katherine added.

“Me too,” Abigail said.

“Leaving them behind was never part of the plan,” Marjorie chimed in. Ever since she defied Frank earlier in the morning, she had felt empowered.

“This might be a first, but I agree with the ladies,” Frank said.

Hearing the conversation and having her own opinion, Bryn said, “No one gets left behind, period.”

“I’m sorry, but his wishes were specific. I was given two conditions for leaving, and hearing that skirmish in the woods and the man down there fulfills that requirement. This is not up for debate; we need to start moving,” Colin declared.

“No!” Becky said.

“Becky, I’m sorry, but this is not up for a vote,” Colin said.

“You can’t make us,” Becky charged.

Feeling frustrated, Colin took his massive hand and rubbed his face. He looked at Becky, then went to each face in the group. He had to come up with some compromise, but what, he wasn’t sure yet.

“You’re outnumbered,” Bryn said.

“Guys, listen. We’ve been lucky, but we can’t sit here forever. We need to move on. What if that man was an advance or scout for whoever did all that shooting? Soon they’ll be here, and we might not have enough to fight them off. Becky, you need to see this from Nicholas’ prospective,” Colin explained.

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