Tread Fearless: Survival & Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 4) (50 page)

“They?” asked Paul.

“Someone up ahead.”

John saw Paul’s face go instantly pale, and knew he was thinking about Marcus. He was sure Paul was about to say, “My boy’s with them,” but to his credit, he didn’t. Adam was also with Pete, and so was Corbin. John was grateful Paul didn’t feel the need to air his concerns, and John locked eyes with him and said, “We’ll get them back, Paul.”

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

“We need to get off the road before that silver sedan comes back. They’re scouts for whatever activity is going on up ahead,” said John.

“I remember seeing it,” said Paul. “Do you have some place in mind?”

With that question hanging in the air, John closed his eyes and leaned forward to rest his head on his arm. In that semi-reclined state, he left his body and quickly rose up to see a large, farm equipment maintenance warehouse about a half-mile up the road.

And since he was out, he decided to see if he could quickly investigate the problem of Pete and the missing van. John thought of stopping, or even through slicing time, but he didn’t feel the need, or more accurately, the justification. There was something special about using time, but also taxing, and he didn’t want to abuse the gift or wear himself out. At least that’s the best way he could think to describe it, a gift. But it didn’t matter at that particular moment because he was moving with lightning fast speed.

John zoomed above the road like a cruise missile, looking for the ambush sight, but seeing only simple homes on dusty lots. He saw a small town. It was called Cactus, and had a population of a couple thousand, but they weren’t there.

When he was about a half-mile from the warehouse, John slowed and studied a lonely plot of land that seemed dedicated to farm-workers and their families. In an area about half the size of a single circular farm
plot, sat a mixed variety of simple, cheaply built, single-story homes on half-acre lots. Not all the lots were developed, though. In fact, more than half of them were completely barren. Strangely, the neighborhood reminded John a little of his own development, only much smaller, and completely trashed and dirty.

The dry, dusty landscape had an old-west feel to it, only there wasn’t really anything old-west to see but the dust and blowing bushes. The few trees helped. Dead and stripped of their leaves, they only needed a vulture or two to set the mood. Old and forgotten, absolutely desperate, but not necessarily old-west.

Of the twenty-some homes in the project, each was only slightly different in design and structure from the next. Old and rusty vehicles, forgotten appliances, and other junk littered nearly every front yard. But what struck John the most was the dark and depressed feeling emanating from the place. It was as if a cancer had set in and everyone refused to accept it.

On the north side of the project, just out and beyond a hearty, novice dirt-bike track, ran a single strand of rail cars, all open-top hoppers, on a lonely rail spur. They formed a kind of industrial barrier, like a tourniquet, to prevent the project from expanding into the more precious adjacent farmland.

John opened his awareness and soon focused his attention on the large lot in the northwest corner of the project. He saw the van sitting there, out in the open. Despite not hiding it, John knew that without the radio contact, he would have probably driven right past the place without giving it a single glance.

Of all the lots in the project, the corner lot was the biggest, and also the dirtiest. It looked more like a scrap or junk yard than a homeowner’s property. It was entirely cluttered with trash and rusting metal. Hulks of various shapes and sizes made it look more like a vehicle graveyard. A dozen shipping containers sat to one corner, and old farm and rail equipment, as well as an abundance of trash, added to the cancerous feel of the place.

That lot was the source of the cancer, and John found Pete and the boys sitting in a room of the main house. They were bound, and not happy, but safe for the time being. John felt Paul touch his arm – his real arm – and he knew he had to return. First things first, he realized. He had to get Paul and the others off the road, and as soon as possible. Besides, slipping out to take a look around while standing on the side of the road wasn’t smart in the best of conditions, so John jumped back to his body and lifted his head.

“You just did that thing again, didn’t you?” asked Paul.

“I know where they are. They’re not far from here . . . up the road about a mile, in a house. But let’s get everyone to cover first. I know where we can find some shelter. Once everyone’s safe, I’ll go get them,” said John, and with that he quickly returned to the Suburban.

When he entered the truck, Bonnie was crying and Jenna was trying to console her. John wasn’t at all interested in opening a discussion about what was happening, so he put the truck in gear and pulled smoothly back onto the roadway.

“Will you please tell us what’s happening?” asked Jenna.

“Some people are holding Pete and the boys. We’re going to drive to a warehouse, and I’ll go get them,” said John.

“Just like that?” snapped Bonnie. “You’re just going to . . . go get them?” she cried.

“Bonnie, you need to get a grip on yourself. They’re not hurt. They’ll be fine. Everyone in this company has someone to lose in that van, and of all the people there, Pete is the most capable.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she cried.

John looked at Jenna with a furrowed brow, and quickly nodded his head toward Bonnie. Jenna understood the cue and said, “Bonnie, honey, you need to calm down. Getting all hysterical won’t help anyone. I trust John. If he says he can save them, I believe him.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” she persisted with tears. “Your husband is sitting right next to you!”

“And it’s a good thing too, because if anyone can save Pete and the boys, it’s John.” When Bonnie moaned, Jenna added, “Remember the dream, Bonnie. Remember what we saw. Everything will turn out fine. You’ll see,” and she began gently rubbing Bonnie’s back as she curled up on the back seat to cry.

John saw the warehouse, and slowed down to pull onto the unimproved road that led to the lot. The sound of crushed limestone crunched under the tires as he followed the road to the warehouse. It looked bigger up close. The large, steel-framed structure was the size of a large apartment complex. Covered in white sheet metal it lacked character, but it was superbly functional for farm equipment. It was also perfectly functional for their immediate needs.

Two smaller buildings, both still large by their own account, sat to the north side of the expansive lot across from the warehouse. The two structures offered bays for idle farming tractors, but they were completely open, full of equipment, and facing the road. So John navigated the Suburban around a large harvester in the middle of the lot, and drove straight into the large warehouse. Thankfully, someone had left the large bay-doors open, so he wasted no time in pulling in. Paul followed suit, and soon both vehicles were off the road and hidden from view.

John didn’t know how much reaction time he had, but his main concern was protecting those in the company who were still under his immediate care. The silver car was still out there, and the thought of the men in that car with their radios made John moan and reach for his own radio. He quickly pressed the open-scan button again and waited. After hearing nothing, he clipped the radio to his belt and went to go talk to Paul.

The ticking sound of the truck’s cooling engine was first to greet John when he approached Paul at the dually front bumper. Paul looked at him, concern still deeply etched on his face, and asked, “Now what?”

“Now I go get the boys. But I need you to stay here . . .”

“Go get them . . . physically?” interrupted Paul.

John grunted and said with a subdued grin, “Yes. Physically. I can’t negotiate for their release if they can’t see me.”

“Just wondering,” said Paul, clearly missing the humor in John’s reply. He cocked his head and waited for John to continue.

“Look, I know this is strange for you,” said John.

“Daddy, can we get out now?” came Anthony’s young voice from the truck’s cab.

Paul turned to the windshield and held up a finger for them to wait. “I’m sorry. You were saying?”

“I was saying,” continued John, “that I know this is weird for you. It’s weird for me too. But I’ve been given this gift for a reason. I don’t know what that reason is yet, but it’s helped us so far. Wouldn’t you say?”

“I agree,” said Paul. “I trust you, John. You know that. You don’t have to keep asking us to trust you. We really do.”

Paul’s comments caught him a little off guard. Maybe he was feeling a little insecure about his abilities, he didn’t know. Everything was changing so fast. It was hard enough to trust himself at times, so maybe he thought they didn’t trust him either. John looked at Paul and nodded, “Thanks Paul.”

“Look, you’ve already done more for us than anyone ever has. I’m not worried about you, or Pete, or the boys. I’m just curious, that’s all. So, what do you want me to do when you’re gone?”

John put a hand on Paul’s shoulder and said, “Protect the company. You know where the weapons are. Jenna and Bonnie are also armed, though Bonnie’s a little upset right now. But prepare to respond to the silver sedan if it shows up. And use your discretion in dealing with it if it does.”

“Non-aggression?”

“That’s my motto, not yours. You’re not me, and you’re the only one here to protect the company. And I trust you, Paul,” finished John. Paul nodded and John handed him the radio, “Keep your ear glued to this. You might hear something from the silver car.”

“You’re not taking it with you?” asked Paul, surprised.

“Nope. I’m going in clean. No weapons. No radio. Nothing.”

“Nothing?” asked Paul.

“I can’t Paul. Anything I take with me will most likely be taken. Look, I’ve got to go. Can you position the vehicles for a quick exit?” asked John as he turned to leave.

“You got it, boss,” said Paul, and he also turned away.

John returned to the Suburban to explain his plan to Jenna. And to be honest, he was surprised at how accepting she was of it. He really thought she’d bend to Bonnie’s emotional outpouring. Instead, she was firm and resolute, and hugged him tightly with a kiss.

After clearing himself of all his weapons and precious equipment, John left the warehouse through the large bay doors. Once through, he slid the doors partially closed, leaving just enough space for Paul to see out, but not for a car to pull in, and began walking across the lot toward the driveway.

His plan at this point was simple: walk the highway till he reached the housing project, and then stop and take another look around. He didn’t know if it would work, but he wasn’t afraid. In fact, he was even a little excited. Acting without weapons was strangely liberating.

John reached the road and began walking casually along the shoulder to the west. He occasionally glanced over his shoulder for the silver sedan, but it hadn’t yet reappeared. Still, he knew it was only a matter of time before it would. He expected them to be along any moment now, and when they did, he planned to hitch a ride with them.

His feeling of peace was stronger than it had ever been before. He knew, with certainty, that he could save Pete and the boys, and do it without hurting anyone. But that was only if the situation allowed. He couldn’t make the men holding Pete and the boys act reasonably, but he could certainly set the tone for cooperation and peace.

After all, his desire to remain non-aggressive didn’t mean he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, fight if needed. He just knew that he had to give the men a chance. In the end, how they decided to act was entirely up to them. The
choices they made when dealing with John would define the outcome, not John.

“There you are,” said John aloud, as he glanced over his shoulder to see a set of approaching headlights. He stopped and waited for the silver sedan to get closer. And when it did, it looked like it was about to cruise right on by, so John leaned out into the road and held up his hand. The car slowed and stopped twenty feet away from John, as if he was the threat. He shrugged and walked up to the passenger side window as if he were the happiest man alive.

And he was happy because he was finally making physical contact with the threat. The passenger, with a radio in his left hand, rolled down the window and was about to speak when John said, “Hey guys. How you doing?”

“What’da ya want?” snapped the young man. But when he looked at John, and saw his eyes, the young man grew quiet. Something about John spoke of confidence and power, and he didn’t know what to make of it. He was accustomed to force, not power, and John’s demeanor unnerved him.

“I’d like to speak to your boss,” said John, with a cheerful tone to his voice.

“I’m the boss,” said the young man, as he pulled on his thin, scraggily blonde beard.

“No you’re not,” said John.

The driver snickered. The passenger, a man who called himself, Holt, slugged the driver on the arm with the radio. John stared back and waited for the man’s reply.