I am VERY sorry, especially to Nancy G, that it has taken so long to get this posted, but I was in the middle of another story in my regular universe and RL has been pretty interesting and a royal PITA for me since February 2006. I never claimed to be a fast writer, but I do work hard to finish what I start and keep promises made to others.
This is a story for Nancy G. who made a generous donation to a program created by wolfpup to support animals hurt and displaced by Hurricane Katrina. It was a wonderful cause and I was happy to donate a story either from my normal series or from my AU series. She wanted another story in my Chaos AU, but it was to focus mainly on the new Sentinel/Guide partnership of Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner. This story will take place only a couple of days after the two agreed to their partnership and are on they way to a new life in Denver, Colorado. I suggest you read the previous story, "We're Not Alone," for the full background of these characters as well as "Surviving the Chaos" to know why the world is in its present condition. Jim and Blair, as well as other members of the Cascade PD, do make an appearance.
As usual, I think we can rate this story somewhere around PG-13, or whatever rating is being given to our stories when they involve some violence and a few curse words.
Thank you, wolfpup, for giving me a home for my stories, especially this one. While it isn't wholly a Sentinel story, she is still posting it on her website.
Finally, a special thanks to Cindy Combs for stepping in to beta this story. My regular beta had a small accident over the holidays and wasn't able to help me at this time.
Thank you, Nancy, and I hope you enjoy the story!
Shallan
The sun was slowly making its way west, soon to fall behind the majestic peaks of the Cascade Mountains in Washington. The small layer of clouds hovering around the mountain tops were turning a brilliant shade of orange-red by the rays of the setting sun, and the animals inhabiting the area around the small clearing were bustling with activity as they prepared for the night.
Chris Larabee paused to look at the glowing colors in the sky, enjoying what his enhanced eyesight allowed him to see. He could also easily hear the scrapings and scuttling of the small creatures trying to stay out of his way and his sight, but his hearing was mainly tuned toward the individual he'd left in their camp. Chris wasn't able to hear any type of noise expected when someone was setting up camp, but he had been gone for almost an hour searching for deadfall for their fire. What he was able to hear was the comforting sound of a relaxed heartbeat accompanied by the soft tones of someone whistling.
While others would never be able to distinguish the things he could with his sight and hearing, Chris Larabee, former Navy SEAL, could because he was a sentinel -- an individual whose five senses were enhanced way beyond the normal range of a human. He'd never heard of sentinels, or knew that anyone could have such an abilities, until he'd found himself in the company of another sentinel and his partner. That hadn't been much fun, at least not at first.
Before meeting the others that morning not too long ago, all he had wanted was to sleep off the alcohol he'd imbibed the night before. He was being discharged from the Navy due to medical problems -- his senses were all out of whack and he wasn't able to perform the duties he was trained to do without endangering himself or others on his team. Alcohol had helped in the beginning, dulling all the problems, but after a while the booze barely helped. Then one morning he'd been awakened by noises caused by an earthquake and a need -- a pulling at his soul -- toward a warehouse complex next to the wharf near his motel.
First he met the other sentinel's partner, Blair Sandburg, who explained that his senses were acting up because he was a sentinel. Granted, at first the young man had tried to take him out with a hunk of wood because of that fact, but after a short discussion they decided to work together to get out of the damaged building while trying to stay away from men with guns. Then they met up with the Sandburg's partner, Jim Ellison. Luckily the guy was a cop, and well armed, and they were able to find a way to stop the guys with guns who turned out to be a rogue militia group picking up supplies they had stashed in the warehouse.
In the mean time, he met a special young man, kid actually, who helped him in the situation and eventually became his partner. Not that he had been looking for a partner. Larabee had spent most of his adult life in the Navy. The last half of his career was as a SEAL, but mainly in positions where he was in charge of a small group of men and eventually his final team. Then there was that last mission right before his senses went haywire, when most of his men died during what was supposed to have been a simple mission. After that, Larabee mainly worked alone. He had expected to finish the rest of his life that way after being forced out of the Navy due to his 'illness,' however long that may have been with the destructive path he'd been following. Eventually, he was contacted by an old friend who was starting a private investigation business in Denver, Colorado, and thought about checking the situation out. But life always seems to have a way to changing when you least expect it, and that is what happened that fateful day.
When he met up with young Vin Tanner, the kid was climbing around the rafters of the warehouse like a squirrel and causing him no small amount of worry that Tanner would slip and fall. But he didn't and was soon helping Larabee stop the militiamen as well as giving him the first small amount of control over his ragged senses. They seemed to settle down, though still at a heightened level, just with Tanner sitting at his side and sharpened further when there was some type of physical contact between the two.
Ellison and Sandburg explained that Tanner being in the warehouse is what had drawn him to the building and he might as well accept the fact that the kid was his 'guide'. Sandburg was Ellison's guide, a person that assisted a sentinel in controlling his abilities, and according to the two men it appeared that Tanner was also a guide -- Larabee's. It was evident even to a blind man and he just had to accept it. Fate, providence, whatever made it so.
Chris shook his head remembering how crazy he thought the notion, that what he once thought was a sickness bent on destroying his life was in fact a natural part of him that only needed controlling. And if that wasn't hard enough to accept, then there was the fact that a young man was the best if not the only person who could help him with control. Oh, they had butted heads a few times since they met, but it seemed that the two were of similar mind and spirit with most things. Vin just needed to realize that the sometime overbearing controlling nature Chris exhibited was part of him as well as the sentinel/guide package. Chris needed to accept that Vin wasn't some wet behind the ears kid who'd never been on his own and allow him some space and freedom.
Nearing the campsite, Larabee dropped his load of wood onto the stack already waiting beside the prepared fire pit and rubbed his leg. He'd been hurt back at the warehouse and the climbing around he'd been doing to find enough dry timber reminded him of his injury. It was from a bullet that only grazed his leg and it was healing pretty fast. Every now and then it would itch and ache slightly if he over extended himself, but other than that it didn't give him much trouble.
Waiting beside the pit was one of the large water jugs they'd brought on the trip and a coffee pot ready to be placed on the fire once it was lit. Since there wasn't going to be any problem with the weather that night, the two had decided that the tent wasn't needed and a drop cloth was placed at the base of some fir trees at the edge of the clearing. The sleeping bags were still rolled up but sitting on the cloth along with a pair of space blankets for added warmth if needed. The one thing missing from the campsite was the person who had set it up.
With almost a sigh, Larabee tilted his head and turned his hearing upwards to find the location of the whistling. As he thought, Tanner was perched up in a nearby tree not too far from the top, though how he actually got up there was a mystery. The lowest branch had to be at least ten feet up. Walking to the base of the large fir, Larabee shifted around until he could clearly see the legs of his partner gently swinging.
"Is there some reason why you needed to be up there like some damn monkey, Tanner?" Larabee called up toward the legs. During their time on the road they had started talking about themselves and Larabee had mentioned that he did have a small problem with heights. Tanner had found the idea amusing and his current location was probably a poke at his partner. He also wasn't very forthcoming with any problems. Larabee figured it was probably something embarrassing and didn't press the lack of information.
The whistling stopped at the same time that the legs stopped moving and soon a head followed by a body was lying down along the branch. Vin Tanner gave his partner a smirk before answering, "Nope. Just wanted ta see as far as I could. Don't have eyes like yours, but I think there's a town not that far away."
~sigh~ "I could have showed you where we were on the map."
"Wouldn't of been as much fun as finding out m'self. 'Sides, I was done setting up the camp and knew ya wouldn't want me out checking the traps 'til ya got back."
"Okay, you got me there. Come on down and we'll check the traps together. If we didn't catch anything, I can hear a river not too far away that might hold some fish."
Chris chuckled at the speed in which Vin's body disappeared from view, the rustling and scrapping sounds indicated quick movement. One thing he did find out was that Vin loved to fish, something he had done when he lived in the warehouse to provide food for others staying there. During the trip across country, Chris intended to provide the opportunity to fish as much as possible.
He shifted his position a little so that he could watch the young man descend, smiling at the ease in which he moved. When Vin was about half way down, a foot just stepping onto a branch, Chris froze at the faint creaking noise he heard. "Wait! Don't step th-" he started to say, but it was too late.
Though he wasn't very heavy, the weight of Vin's body was too much for the branch and it gave away. Unfortunately, he only had one hand resting on another branch, just for balance and not really holding onto it very tight, while the other had been swinging down to grab the now breaking limb. With the loss of his footing, Vin crashed downward and he flailed wildly trying to stop his falling. All too quickly he landed onto another branch, his ribs making contact hard enough to force a loud 'oof' from his mouth along with most of the air from his lungs. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around the branch and hung on, his eyes shut and his face showing the pain his body was broadcasting.
"Vin!" Chris yelled, zeroing his eyesight in on the other's face. He could see a fresh, bloody scrap on the whitening face. His hearing told him that Vin was struggling to breathe and his heart was beating wildly. He could also smell blood, more that what a scratch on a face would cause. "Can you hold steady there for a bit?"
Hearing a hissed 'yes' come from the other, Chris ran for the truck. Once he got it started, he slammed the gearshift into reverse and backed the large vehicle until the cab was next to the tree trunk. Then, after shutting it down and engaging the parking break, Chris climbed out of the driver-side window, onto the cab and pulled himself up onto the branches now within his reach.
Trying to sound calm he asked, "You break anything important?"
There was a snort followed by a groan. "Every... thing's important."
"How about anything that I shouldn't touch while I'm saving your ass?" Hearing the young man joke was reassuring. Larabee could tell that he was hurt and being able to get Tanner down without creating more damage could be a problem.
Opening his eyes, Vin saw Chris close to where he hung but on the other side of the tree. The older man's face showed his worry, his mouth set and his eyes hard, but his voice had held a comfortable though sarcastic tone. "M' ribs... feel like they... took some damage," he gasped. "Left arm... burns."
"Okay. That doesn't sound too bad." Moving carefully, Chris climbed around until he was able to stand on a limb behind and lower from Vin's.
"Just get my feet... ~groan~... on t' something steady and... I'll be fine."
"You tell me if anything hurts, and no lying. Okay?" Without waiting for an answer, Larabee carefully check the different areas with a gentle touch. He could feel heat from a few spots, probably bruises, and a couple of the ribs on the left side felt funny. He was sure they weren't broken, but he would check them again once they got down out of the tree.
Relaxing at the knowledge that the damage was minimal, Chris got Vin's attention and raised an eyebrow. The younger man gazed into his face for several long breaths before nodding. Then Chris moved closer, made sure his feet were setting firm, and put one arm around Vin's waist above his hips. He slid his other arm carefully between the right arm and ribs until he could place his hand at the base of Vin's throat just below the clavicle. With ease, Chris carefully lifted the other up and back against his body before lowering Vin down so that feet were now on the same limb as Chris'.
Larabee let go of the waist, using the arm to quickly grab the branch he'd just taken Tanner from, but he shifted his other further up until his hand could clasp the shoulder and easily hold the smaller man against him. Feeling Tanner shaking and struggling to catch his breath, Larabee decided that it wouldn't hurt to just stand there for a few minutes.
Finally, Vin murmured, "Gawd, that hurt. Thanks, Cowboy."
"Not a problem. I think this is just part of the job description." Larabee slowly loosened his hold, seeing if Tanner could stand on his own, then he shifted to step down onto another limb. He tested each before putting his whole weight on it, then helped Tanner down onto it. "Stay put."
Nodding, Vin glanced down at the roof of the cab. "Looks like... ya got t' put th'... first scratch in it."
"It's a truck, not some fancy piece of art. They're supposed to get dirty and scratched." Lightly landing onto the cab roof, Chris held his arms up. "Sit down and slowly slide on your right side until I can grab your legs."
Vin obeyed, not making a sound beyond a soft groan, and almost sagged in relief when his feet were setting firmly on the truck. "'M sorry about this, Chris."
"Why? The limb broke and you fell." Leaping down into the truck bed, Chris helped Vin until he was able to get him sitting on the side. "It's not like you planned this, or did you?"
At the mock growl that followed the words, Vin gave the other a small smile. "Nah, just shoulda been more careful on where I stepped. This never happened back at the warehouse, and we've only been on the road fer two days."
"Uh huh." Larabee wanted to say more, but this wasn't the time to scold Tanner about how he shouldn't have been climbing around the rafters at that warehouse anymore than he should be climbing the trees here. Tapping the younger man's arms, he ordered, "Lift. I want to check your ribs again."
Vin obeyed without comment, suppressing a moan at the movement. The touch along his ribs was feather soft and careful enough not to feel like a tickling. Taking a cautious breath, he felt a dull soreness, but definitely not a sharp pain indicating any of the ribs were broken or cracked. When the touch disappeared he lowered his arms, clutching the one that burned across his stomach.
"You hurting anywhere else?" Chris took a small sniff. He could smell blood, but it didn't seem like there was a large amount. The small scowl on his face was enough to get an honest answer to his question.
"Think it's my arm." Pulling his left arm away from its protective clasp on his ribs, he slowly rotated it to show a ragged and bloody rip in the sleeve from the cuff up to the elbow.
Dropping to one knee, Larabee carefully took hold of the hand, unbuttoned the sleeve and pulled it away slowly. Seeing that the jagged tear along the under part of the forearm was bleeding sluggishly, he pulled his handkerchief from his back pocket and dabbed it carefully. "Damn. This will need stitches."
"Can't ya just clean it and wrap it up?"
"Nope, too deep. When was the last time you had a tetanus shot?"
"Ah, hell." The dejected tone in Tanner's voice said everything.
"Thought so." Trying not to laugh at the look of utter despair on the younger man's face, Larabee climbed out of the truck bed and grabbed the first aid kit from the cab. The problem ahead of them would be trying to find a town with a decent medical facility.
When they had left Cascade traveling toward Denver, Highway 2 was their best travel route toward Spokane, though not the quickest time wise. Before The Chaos, catching Interstate 90 straight out of the city would have been the fastest route across Washington, Idaho and into Montana where they would hook up to Interstate 25 and head down through Colorado and to Denver. Mt. Rainier's 'awakening' and the resulting destruction of Yakima and the area around it made traveling that way impossible. No effort had been made to rebuild the city or reopen the route, not then and probably not for many years in the future... if at all.
Larabee knew that most of the small towns along Highway 2 had been abandoned after the upheaval of The Chaos -- many of the people who survived decided to move closer to civilization, with the exception of the farmers. Many of them seemed to have found a way to survive in their remote areas and the government was working with them to get their produce to the cities. He'd also heard that there were some communities that were started up by groups willing to make it on their own without many of the luxuries of the past. Maybe the one Tanner had spotted from the tree was one which had a doctor, or at least someone who had medical training. If not, he'd have to do the best he could until they were able to reach Spokane in a couple of days.
"Your face doesn't look too bad, probably just need to wipe it with some hydrogen peroxide to clean it out." Climbing back into the truck with the First Aid kit in hand, Chris sat on the side of the truck bed beside Vin, gave him the opened kit and gently pulled the injured arm across his lap. "This needs to be cleaned out."
Vin gave him a soft snort, immediately catching the older man's desire to do something to make him feel better. "Why go to the trouble? Ya already know it's gonna get infected."
"Because I can see the little bits and can get them out with minimal pain before there's any swelling." Chris looked up from the wound into the bright blues eyes staring at him. "The more we can do to slow down or prevent an infection, the better. Trust me."
"I do," Vin answered almost immediately then took a deep breath and blew it forcefully out before looking at the First Aid kit in his lap. He grabbed the tweezers and held them out. "Get on with it b'fore I bleed to death."
Giving the young man a lop-sided smirk, Larabee took the tweezers. Bending over the ripped up arm, he first lightly dabbed it again to clear away the blood before focusing his eyes. Almost instantly his sight zeroed in on the foreign matter lodged in the flesh as if he was looking through a microscope. The slowly oozing blood distracted him and he felt himself starting to become lost in the bright color... that wasn't just red but many different shades... and the way it flowed over the flesh was like-
A hand gently gripped his shoulder and he heard a low "careful" that snapped Larabee's attention back to the present. He glanced up to see it was Tanner and the young man gave him a nod as if to say 'I've got you'. Nodding back, Larabee returned his attention to the wound and found it was now easier for him to see each of the little bits of debris without wanting to fade out. Quickly and as gently as possible he cleaned the gash, again dabbed away the excess blood then sprayed the area with an antiseptic before placing sterilized pads onto the wound.
The arm lying in his hands trembled slightly as he wrapped the gauze until the wound was covered with a couple of layers. With a quick glance up, Chris saw that Vin had his eyes closed and was biting his lip. "You okay?" He got a quick nod and the trembling quit, but he still finished taping the bandage quickly. Taking back the First Aid kit, he dug around in it until he found a couple of packages of analgesic pills. "Are you allergic to anything?"
"Don't know," Vin answered pulling his arm back and checking the bandage. "Remember getting a nasty rash an' really sick after getting a shot when I was a kid."
"Do you remember the name?"
"Don't remember too much, just was purty sick and they said I needed t' get th' medicine in a shot. Some type a 'sin' at the end of a long word."
Chris gave a small grunt. Must have been some form of penicillin. "Here. Should help with the pain." Handing Vin one of the packages, Chris stood up and started to climb out of the truck. "I'll get you some water then go look at the traps while you clean that scrape on your face. I'll take care of the cooking tonight."
"I kin do my share." Vin started to stand, but the aches his body was starting to feel decided to flare up and he carefully sat back down. "Uh, maybe I kin just get the coffee started and work on our beds."
Chris smiled and started walking towards the fire pit and the pile of wood. "Works for me. Besides, you're cooking is more harmful than falling out of a tree."
"Hey!"
Next Day, Late Morning
Many of the smaller towns not within easy traveling distance from the big cities emptied quickly after The Chaos. The main reason for people leaving was the loss of a lot of the amenities they were used to, abundant electricity, gasoline and clean water. The lessening of safety and security was another issue and many people didn't want the responsibility of guarding their towns and possessions. Yes, there were still law enforcement agencies, but in reduced numbers and many were unable to provide the wide-ranging amount of protection as they had been able to in the past. Then there was the problem of keeping roads in repair. Main routes could and probably would be kept up through federal funds, but secondary roads would become the responsibility of the state or counties. The number of 'good' roads decreased over the years until only the main roads were now being used.
The town on the map was called Wimbly, but the sign at the entrance of the settlement had the word crossed out and "Camp Patriot" painted under it. A man was sitting on the porch of the first house they drove passed with a rifle laying across his lap. He had eyed the truck carefully as it drove by then picked up a hand radio. It was probable, Larabee thought, that this town had decided to hire a security force for protection and the man was one of their sentries.
Feeling uncomfortable, Larabee reached over and gave Tanner a gentle shake to rouse him. Earlier that morning, when he had awoke before the sun had risen, he could tell that the younger man was definitely in pain from his bruises, was sporting a low fever and probably hadn't slept well. His fever was probably close to 100, if Larabee gauged it right. The bandaged arm also felt warmer than normal and, when the gauze had been removed, the wound looked red and angry around the edges. Despite the care taken to clean and wrap the wound, it was becoming infected.
So, after a quick breakfast and cleanup, the truck was loaded and they headed for the town Tanner had probably seen from the tree. Larabee was able to get a couple more pills down the young man before he curled up in the truck cab and tried to sleep. Larabee really hoped the town had some type of medical facility.
"Vin," Chris called when his shaking didn't wake the other.
First raising his head, then slowly sitting up straight, Vin brushed his hair back from his face and looked around. "Don't feel right," he said after they had driven a couple of blocks into the town. "It's... don't know what, but feels... wrong?"
Chris glanced quickly at his companion before quickly scanning the street before them. "What do you mean it 'feels wrong'? Looks like they've got protection."
Vin carefully looked around at the different houses they passed. Some were boarded up and most of the others that were not had solar panels perched on the roof. Once thing really noticeable was the lack of people moving around the area. "It's like the town's holding its breath. 'Fraid or something. Maybe we should just leave."
Chris shook his head. "Can't. You've got a fever and your arm is becoming infected."
"It's not that bad. I can wait 'til the next town." Vin held his arm close to his chest and shivered, but it wasn't caused from being cold.
Chris saw the movement and the almost haunted look in the pale blue eyes as they carefully checked each of the buildings they passed. "There might not be another town within easy traveling distance. Look, we won't stay the night. Okay? If they have a doctor, we'll stay long enough to get your arm looked after then leave. If they don't, we'll just keep driving."
There wasn't any reply to the offer. Larabee almost decided to drive on through until he saw a sign hanging on a post sitting in front of a house ahead and used his enhanced sight to pick up the words written on it. "DR. V.L. STRAKER, M.D., FAMILY PRACTICE"
An old Jeep Wrangler was parked in front of the building. Larabee pulled in behind it and parked. "Let's see if someone is in there."
Tanner placed a hand on Larabee's arm, stopping him from opening his door. "Wait. Be safer if ya listen first an see if ya can hear anyone in there."
Without thinking, Chris tilted his head and focused his hearing toward the building. After a couple of minutes, he nodded and looked at Vin. "Sounds like one person cleaning something. No one else is in there."
Vin turned his attention toward the house. "Just in, get m' arm fixed and out. Right?"
Not answering, Chris opened his door and climbed out of the truck. Walking around to the passenger side, he opened that door then turned and started toward the house. After a long moment, Vin stepped out, closed his own door and followed after Chris up to the porch.
There was a sign on the front door that read "ENTER" and, checking the knob, Larabee found it was unlocked. "Hello!" he called after opening the door and stepped into what looked like a reception area.
"Hello! Just a moment," a deep, male voice answered from the back of the house. There was a door slammed shut, and the sound of some metallic things being moved, then footsteps. A young Black man, wiping his hands with a towel, stepped around the corner and into the room. "Can I help you?"
Leaning back and pulling Vin forward by his good arm, Chris asked, "Are you... the doctor?"
The other man smiled widely and moved closer with a hand extended. He stopped moving when the speaker stepped in front of the younger man. "No, I'm not Dr. Straker. She closed up her practice and went to Seattle to be with her family about a year ago. I'm Nathan Jackson and probably the only one with any type of medical training within a hundred miles for now."
Larabee eyed the other carefully and could tell he wasn't lying, but he still wasn't sure. "You've had formal medical training?"
Jackson nodded and walked over to a desk sitting to the side of the room. As if expecting the questioning of his status, he grabbed a folder from the lone basket sitting on top and pulled out several pieces of paper. "I am a licensed EMT and I completed a couple of years of med school in Seattle before I decided to move out here. I worked with Dr. Straker before she left and am just taking care of the area until a permanent replacement gets here in a couple of months." He held out the papers, a certificate easily seen on the top. "Then I'll be heading east to Colorado to finish my training."
Chris started to reach for the papers when he felt a trembling Vin lean into him. Turning quickly, Chris wrapped an arm around Vin's very warm body and kept him from falling over. "Vin?"
"Quick. Bring him in here and lay him down," Nathan ordered, dropping the papers back onto the desk and leading the way into the next room. It held a gurney made up with clean white sheets sitting in the center. "What happened?"
Helping a wobbly Vin onto the gurney, Chris got him lying down before saying, "He fell last night and tore up his arm. Did what I could, but he was feverish this morning and it looks like an infection has set in. How are you doing, kid?" he said to the younger man.
Vin rubbed his good hand over his face to wipe away the small amount of perspiration that covered it. "Felt a bit dizzy. Arm's starting to hurt."
Nathan opened various cupboards around the room, pulled out several items and placed them onto a rolling table, which he moved over to the gurney once it was full. "That doesn't sound too serious," Nathan said in a calm, soothing voice. "What's your name?"
"Vin," he said shortly, eyeing the various things lying on the nearby table.
"Well, Vin. Did you eat anything this morning? Feeling a bit nauseous? It's not bad if you are, but I want to be prepared if you decide to decorate my floor." Nathan grinned at the smirk that appeared on Vin's face then reached for the bandaged arm. "Let me take a look at that and see how much work you brought me."
Vin looked at Chris and saw him nod before allowing his arm to be touched. He relaxed slightly when he saw how gently it was being handled.
"Are you his guardian, Mr...?" Nathan asked, picking up a pair of scissors.
"Larabee," Chris answered, moving closer and laying what he hoped felt like a comforting hand on Vin's shoulder. He could tell his friend was bristling at the thought he needed a guardian. "Chris Larabee. For your paper work, his full name's Vincent Tanner and he's old enough. He's my partner."
Nathan chuckled. "Sorry about that, Vin. Enjoy your youthful looks as long as you can hold them. The ladies will love it."
Chris smirked at the thought of Vin being chased after by pretty, young women. The younger man had blushed a brilliant shade of red and had a hard time getting the words 'thank you' out back in Cascade when his former commander's wife commented, frequently, about him being very handsome. And his actions when he was around girls near his own age had told Chris even more -- the young man had little to no experience with women. The glare Vin gave him, seeming to know what the older man was thinking, made him chuckle quietly.
After cutting through the gauze, Nathan carefully peeled back the edges and whistled softly. "That's not pretty. How did you do this nice piece of work?" he asked, reaching for a bottle of saline. After placing a pan under the arm, he carefully poured the liquid over the wound.
Vin jerked at the cool moisture when it touched his arm, but it didn't hurt so he didn't pull away. "Was up in a tree and a limb broke. I fell."
"Uh huh. What other parts of you were damaged besides the arm?"
When Vin didn't answer, Chris spoke up. "He's got a few more scrapes and they're doing okay, and he bruised the ribs on his left side. No breaks, luckily. Don't think he's up on his shots, either." He knew Nathan was trying really hard not to cause any pain, but the anxiety and fear he could almost smell coming off his friend had him wanting to shove the medic away and take over the treatment.
Jackson stepped away to a set of cabinets and pulled out a syringe and a small bottle. As he turned back with the items in his hands, Tanner started to scramble off the table. Before he realized what he was doing, Larabee was stepping forward to block access to Tanner and reaching for the syringe.
"Whoa there, mister!" Jackson exclaimed. Seeing how the older man looked at him, he took a step back and moved the syringe out of reach. Lifting the other hand with the bottle, he turned it until the label was pointed toward Larabee. "I don't want to cause the kid anymore pain than I have to, but cleaning out the wound is going to hurt... a lot. This is just something that will only deaden the area. Okay?"
Larabee's eyesight zeroed in onto the bottle's label and it read what the man said it did. He could smell the fear coming from the medic, knew the man was only trying to do his job, but he still wanted to take over and calm the fear he'd felt coming from Tanner. Then he heard the one voice able to break through to him.
Tanner knew that since they were in a doctor's office, and the fact that it was going to hurt a lot to fix his arm, there was always the possibility of needles being used. He just hadn't been prepared for them this soon. Needles used to give shots had always been painful and the only memories he had of shots was getting them in embarrassing places. When the medical guy turned around with that... thing in his hand, well, he freaked and started to get off the table. Then he saw Larabee move. Not sure what the older man was going to do, just feeling some type of intensity of emotion, he knew he had to do something.
"Chris," Vin said calmly, hoping he could get through to the other. He saw Chris' stance and an idea came to him. Remembering something from the book Blair had given him, Vin lowered his voice and said, "It's okay, Cowboy. Just got a little spooked fer a minute. I'm okay." Shifting around, the younger man reached out until he was able to touch his friend.
The voice and touch worked. Larabee relaxed slightly and turned to look down at Tanner. When the younger man nodded slightly, he released Jackson's arm and took a step back. "Sorry. I... uh-"
"Chris is more an action guy than a talkin' one," Vin said quickly, hoping to ease a messy situation. "He thinks I'm allergic to some stuff that comes in shots."
"It's okay," Jackson said quickly. "No one likes to see their friends in pain and I should have explained what I was going to do. I was just going to use a little lidocaine, something to numb the wound and the area around it, before I started cleaning it out and putting in the stitches."
Not trusting what might come out of his mouth Larabee stepped back and to the side until he was standing opposite where Jackson was going to work. Feeling a hand lightly pat his arm, he looked down to see Tanner settling back down onto the table and giving him a small smile. Acknowledging the smile with a small nod, Larabee rested his own hand on Tanner's good shoulder.
The whole procedure -- administering the anesthetic, cleaning and stitching the wound, bandaging it back up and the tetanus shot -- took only about 45 minutes, but to Larabee it felt like a half a day. He didn't know why the easy procedure bothered him so much. When he'd been in the Navy, and out on an operation, there were many times one of his team members had been hurt, needed medical attention and he either watched a medic do the patching up or did it himself until they could get to safety and help. Watching Tanner flinch as the needle was used to numb the area had been worse then seeing one of his guys take a bullet, get badly burned, severely injured or even die. Jackson talking as he was finishing the bandaging brought his attention back to the room.
"You said you were possibly allergic to some medicines. What are they?"
Seeing that Vin's eyes were threatening to close completely once the pain had been reduced -- he could tell the kid would be out in a minute or two since he hadn't slept very well the night before -- Chris answered, "I think he might be allergic to antibiotics in the penicillin family. Said he remembered reacting to a shot."
"But you don't know for sure?"
Chris shook his head. "I think he grew up in foster homes or something."
"Momma died when I was real young," Vin spoke up in a tired voice. "Don't have no other family around."
Nodding in sympathy, Nathan finished taping the bandage before walking over to another metal cabinet with a large Master lock securing it. Pulling out a set of keys from his pocket he unlocked the device, opened the door and rummaged around the different bottles until he found one and pulled it out. "This is something that can be used in place of any of the penicillin-type drugs. I'll give you enough for a couple of days. You're not setting up in the forest, are you?"
"We're heading for Denver."
"Good. I know that city has been doing pretty good over the years, so you shouldn't have too much of a problem finding a good clinic. If there aren't any complications, and I don't expect any, the stitches can come out in about 10 days. Then you can-"
Heavy footsteps on the front porch and the front door of the house banging open interrupted Nathan's instructions. Instinctively, Chris moved to stand between Vin and the door.
"Hey! Where's the doctor?" a male voice yelled.
Placing the bottle of antibiotics onto a counter, Nathan walked into the front area and saw two men holding a barely conscious third between them. Two of the three wore a myriad of military clothing, most of it in standard woodland-style camouflage, and the third wore a complete outfit that looked clean and sharply pressed. Nathan knew exactly who they were. "What happened?" he asked cautiously.
"Accident," the largest man said sharply. Shifting the arm slung over his shoulder to a more comfortable position, he pushed past Nathan and headed down the hall. Pausing in the doorway of the room where Chris and Vin were, the man glared at them for several seconds.
"Ah think the back room would be better for our companion, Mr. Contreau. It is larger and, if Ah remember correctly, one of the warmer ones." The cultured Southern voice of the second man carrying the wounded one broke the tension that was building and brought the attention of Larabee to him. Two pairs of green eyes met and both held questions on whether either would be willing or even able to trust the other. Then the Southerner gave a slight negative shake of his head, which made Larabee take a step back but still stay in front of Tanner.
With a grunt, the first man turned away from the room and continued down the hallway. "You'd know, Standers. You've been here enough."
"Ah cannot help it if our esteemed leader feels he can entrust me to provide expeditious and excellent assistance each time one of our companions becomes injured during the rigorous training exercises," Standers replied smoothly, giving the man a toothy grin that displayed a shiny gold tooth on his upper jaw. "If you feel Ah can be better utilized elsewhere, Ah am sure Colonel Kincaid would be pleased to hear any suggestion."
Larabee started at the name Standers gave for the leader of the group. He heard it before on the night he had met Tanner. Larabee knew the feeling Tanner had about the town shouldn't be ignored.
The only reply from Contreau was another grunt and the three disappeared down the hall. Jackson watched them go, then moved quickly back into the room holding Larabee and Tanner. He grabbed the bottle of antibiotics again and quickly shook out a specific number into a small packet.
"One pill, twice a day for the next ten with meals should be sufficient to stop the infection he currently has and prevent anything else from starting." Handing the packet to Larabee, Jackson returned the bottle to the cabinet and ensured the lock was secured.
"Are you going to have any problems?" Chris asked quietly, nodding in the direction the three men had gone.
Nathan shook his head then leaned closer and lowered his voice. "They moved in about the same time I started working with Dr. Straker. Since there really wasn't any law in the town for a while, the residents have accepted them as a sort of security force."
"But you don't."
"I don't know what to think. Paramilitary comes to mind, but I don't understand why and it is probably best if I don't try. I'm only here a few days every other week and there is now going to be another doctor setting up practice." Helping Vin off the table, Nathan walked the two men to the front door. "Will you be continuing on the road?"
Chris steadied the wobbling Vin. "We're camping most of the way, but what do you think?"
"It might be best if he has a night or two under a roof. Just to help the antibiotics work."
"Ya said we wouldn't stay tonight," Vin protested, when he heard Chris' question. "Keep moving after m' arm's fixed."
"I really don't think you should, Vin," Nathan jumped in, the anxious tone in his voice showed his worry. "Rough camping isn't a good idea for that arm. It's getting close to noon and the next town with any place to stay is almost a day away."
"Just for the night, Partner. A warm room and a couple of good meals will help the antibiotics. We'll stay on the edge of the town, not go in any further. Promise." Chris gave Nathan a strong look, making the other relax, nod and smile.
"The Henderson's place is about two blocks over and it's pretty good. It's a B&B and their breakfast muffins are fantastic." At the confused look on Vin's face, Nathan explained, "It's a Bed and Breakfast motel. They supply a pretty good breakfast as part of their fee. Tell them I sent you and they'll give you a deal. If you're strapped for cash, they'll take work for payment."
"Doc!" The leader yelled from the back room. "Get back here and help this man."
Larabee's eyes narrowed at the tone of the voice and he gave the medic a look which asked, 'Are you sure you don't need help?'
"It'll be okay. He may not look like he's too trustworthy, but the Standers' guy has been able to keep things smooth while the real leader of the group is away," Jackson said quietly, giving him a small grin then turned his attention to Tanner. "You let your friend know if your wound gets hot or really starts burning. It's better to catch any problem early."
Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his wallet, took a few bills out and handed them to Nathan. "Not sure what your rate is..."
"This will be fine. I get help from the government to replace the medicines and most of the supplies, but I take trade for my work, too. Take care."
Chris watched as Nathan hurried away to his other patients. He was half inclined to head back in and make sure the medic would be okay until Vin shook his head and spoke.
"He won't git no problems from the loud mouth. He's scared of the one with the fancy talk."
After reaching the truck and opening the door to help Vin into the cab, Chris asked, "How do you know that, about the southern guy?"
"Kin feel it. In my head an' chest. The fancy guy, he's holdin' secrets." At the strange look Chris was giving him, Vin continued, "Couldn't ya smell the fear coming from the mouthy guy? Well, I kin feel things from 'em. Sometimes. I think Blair's book calls it em... uh... empt..."
"Empathy?"
"Yeah. That's the word."
"Huh. I think you should show me what that book has been teaching you." Closing the door, Chris quickly crossed around the front of the truck and climbed in on his side. Starting the engine, he pulled out into the street.
"Been tryin' to ever since we got onto the road." Cradling his arm on his lap, Vin leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "Need ya to help me with some of the words."
"I will. After we get a room, some food and you rest." And I take a short walk around town to see just what is going on. Chris told himself mentally. He was going to make sure it was safe to stay in Camp Patriot.
Early Evening that Same Day, Henderson's B&B
When the door gave a small squeak, Vin's body remained still even as his eyes popped open. He had a moment of confusion, feeling the clean, soft sheets and soft bed against his skin, knowing that he definitely wasn't in either the warehouse back in Cascade or the tent he and Chris were using during their trip across the country. He kept very still, listening to the quiet movements of whoever entered the room, until he felt 'something' that told him he was safe and the person was one he trusted.
"I know you're awake."
Vin smiled at the tone of the rough voice. Rolling to face the other, he propped himself up on his good arm and asked, "How soon?"
Chris shifted the bag in his arm and set it down on a nearby chair. "Right after the door creaked. Your heart rate shot up, though you kept your breathing pretty steady and didn't move an inch. How's your arm feeling?"
"Nothing like this morning. That Nathan guy's pretty good with his doctoring. What time is it? Where ya been?" Rubbing the hand on his good arm over his face and pushing his hair back, Vin sat up completely. He eyed the bag and waited.
"It's almost six o'clock. I'd found a small store not too far away and picked up some more medical supplies. Here."
Pulling a plastic bag from the sack, Chris opened it and pulled out a piece of beef jerky then tossed the bag toward Vin before setting his piece down on the dresser. The young man also took out a piece, but quickly took a bite of his dried strip of meat. "That gold-toothed guy said a name earlier and I wanted to be sure I'd heard it right."
"Name?"
"Kincaid."
Vin waited for Chris to continue, almost 30 seconds, but finally asked, "And?"
"Remember the military guys at the warehouse we stopped?" At the answering nod, Chris continued, "The leader's name was Kincaid."
Vin gave a low whistle. "Army-type guys wanting their stuff. Lot'sa guns and bad talking. You think they're talking about the same guy?"
"You got it. Word is that the leader of this town's 'protection squad' is late getting back from a supply run to the big city. I think the two men are one and the same."
"Damn," Vin whispered, then said in a louder voice, "Maybe this is the bad feeling I'm getting from this place."
"Are you still having it?" Chris asked then took a bite of his jerky.
Vin nodded then slid off the bed and wobbled slightly as he slowly walked toward the chair where he'd tossed his shirt before the nap. "Still as strong, too. Staying the night might not be a good idea."
Moving quickly, Chris caught his shaky friend and helped him sit down. "Leaving right now isn't a good idea either. They have people at the edge of town watching anyone coming and going. We take off suddenly after paying for a night here they might think we know something."
"So?"
"So, we find something to eat, find a telephone and make a call to our friends back in Cascade, then lay low until we can leave in the morning." Taking the shirt from the back of Vin's chair, Chris gave a careful sniff before handing it to the younger man.
Vin didn't have to ask if it was clean enough to wear. His partner would have folded it up, tucked it into the bag used for dirty clothes and pulled out something clean. He allowed Chris to help him pull the shirt on, but pulled on his own boots. "What's for dinner?"
Waiting until Tanner pulled on his boots, Larabee moved toward the door and waited. "What are you wanting?"
"Something hot and filling. I ain't too picky, but getting something sweet after'd be nice." Tanner stood up, grabbed his jacket and walked across the room until he was slightly behind Larabee. He knew the older man would be leading the way, after he was sure it was safe to leave the room.
Taking a quick listen toward the hallway and not hearing anything, Chris opened the door and led the way out. "Sweet tooth, huh?"
"I'm jus' a growin' kid, Cowboy," Vin groused.
"You could stand to gain a few pounds. Italian it is with tiramisu for dessert."
"Tira what? That don't sound like food." Vin paused and stared at the older man, who chuckled as he pulled the door shut and locked it.
"Trust me."
"I do, but your idea of food has been..."
"Different?"
"I was thinkin' weird."
Chuckling louder, Chris led the way out of the building.
Country Cupboard Store, Later That Evening
"You're back," exclaimed the gray-haired man, peering over the shelf he was straightening.
Larabee gave the man a nod and jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. "Brought my partner to see if he could think of anything else I might have forgotten this afternoon."
Tanner lifted a hand and gave his cowboy hat a slight tip toward the shopkeeper. "Sir." He'd thrown on his jacket to cover his injured arm and, at Larabee's suggestion, had tucked his hair up under his hat. When the other man turned his attention back to Larabee, he wandered down an aisle to his left.
"Say, do you have a pay phone here or do I need to head further into town?" Chris asked.
"Got one in the back near the offices. It requires a government phone card, though." At Chris' raised eyebrow the man continued, "Those type don't get busted up by someone wanting money."
"Ah. No problem." Not knowing if the man could be trusted, Chris added, "As long as I can reach Seattle it works for me." Giving the man a knowing grin with his smooth lie, Chris was answered with a chuckle and a wave before the older man continued straightening the shelf.
Walking down the aisle toward the back, he shifted his senses toward Vin's direction. The younger man was stopped and Chris could hear the rustling of paper. Vin must have found the magazine rack and something had caught his attention. He made a mental note to find out which one and see if he could find a few more like it. Vin hadn't asked for anything special or personal back in Cascade when they'd gone shopping for clothing and supplies with the exception of some pencils after Blair had given him the journal. It didn't seem right then and that feeling was growing as they spent more time together. Learning more about the younger man's likes and dislikes were going to be a higher priority during the rest of their trip.
Reaching the telephone, Larabee pulled out his wallet, fished out his phone card and a business card. On the back of the small white card a phone number was hand written. Swiping the phone card first, Larabee carefully punched in the numbers on the card and waited for the call to connect. When he heard ringing, the sound of the store door opening caught his attention; three men in a haphazard collection of hunting clothes and military BDU's strode confidently through the door.
~click~ "Hello?"
Swinging around so that his back was to the men, Chris mentally cursed then made his voice sound cheerful as he said, "Uh, Blair? Hey there, Sis. It's your brother Chris."
"What? Who is this?"
"Yeah, Vin said you wouldn't believe we'd only make it this far after leaving town only a couple of days ago. Wimbly seemed like such a nice town that we decided to stay here for the night instead of camping out."
"Larabee? What's going on? Are you two in trouble?"
Larabee heard the sound of two of the men approaching and knew he didn't have much longer. He only hoped his message was getting across to Sandburg. "Vin had a small accident, but it wasn't too serious. You don't need to send out the militia to rescue us-"
The receiver was suddenly yanked out of Larabee's hand and slammed down onto the phone cradle just before a body smashed him into the wall. His feet were kicked apart, one hand grabbed his neck to keep his head pressed against the wall and two others captured his hands.
"Who were you calling, boy?"
Chris remembered the voice; it was the 'loud mouth' man, Contreau, who'd brought the injured man into the doctor's office earlier. "Who the hell wants to know?" he ground out. The hand on his neck lifted and he was spun around and slammed back against the wall. A large Black man was holding one of his arms and Contreau was holding another as he grabbed the front of Larabee's shirt.
Contreau leaned toward Larabee's face. "You've been asking questions about something you should have kept your nose out of, boy. Tell me who you were calling and we won't have to hurt the kid."
Chris glared into the man's face defiantly as he turned his hearing to where he'd last heard Vin. He could hear the third 'soldier' stomping around the aisle, but the young man wasn't in the area. It worried him, but Chris wasn't able to act on that feeling. Contreau yanked him forward before slamming him back into the wall when he didn't answer.
"Who?!"
"My sister, asshole. What's it to you?"
"Clancy! Bring the kid here," Contreau ordered, continuing to glare into Larabee's face.
There was a short hesitation before the other answered, "He's not here, Beau."
Contreau jerked away and turned toward where the other man stood. "What are you talking about? He was there by the books. Find him, stupid!"
Larabee kept his face toward Contreau as he searched with his hearing for sounds of the one so important to his life at this time. Tanner had been three rows over, but no longer. A rapidly beating heart accompanied by the slight scraping of cloth against the linoleum was within 10 feet. A near silent whisper 'here' sounded like a shout to sentinel ears and it came from the bottom of a rack just behind the men holding him.
On the outside, Chris kept his body tense as he glared at the men holding him. On his inside, he relaxed and cheered at the way Vin had saved himself. Trying to jerk free from the hands holding him, Chris growled, "What the hell is going on? Let me go!"
Returning his attention to his captive, Contreau shook him fiercely. "Who are you? Why were you asking questions concerning Colonel Kincaid?"
"Who?"
Another tooth rattling shake. "A couple of my men heard you asking questions about him. Why?"
Suddenly the storeowner was behind the men. "I'm raising a protest, Mr. Contreau. This young man hasn't done anything to be treated like this and I will be informing the town council of your actions and the damage you and your men have caused in this store."
Growling, Contreau turned toward the older man who stepped back in fear. "We're enforcing the laws of this town, Gordon," he said in a low, deadly voice. "Just as the 'Council' has authorized us to do. Now, where did the long-haired kid go?"
Gordon glanced briefly at Larabee before stating, "This man came in alone. Said he needed to call his sister. I don't know what kid you're talking about."
Contreau glared at the storeowner for several seconds before turning back to Larabee with a grunt. "Clancy. Get over to the Henderson's. It's obvious this man and his friend are a danger to this town. Go get the kid and meet us back at camp."
"Now wait-" Gordon started to protest but fell silent when he saw Chris shake his head slightly in a negative motion. Stepping to the side, he crossed his arms over his chest and watched as the two 'law enforcers' handcuffed Chris, then dragged him through the store and out the front door.
Once the three men were gone Gordon started toward the door, which led to his office. He had his keys out and was unlocking it when he heard a pained grunt and a metallic rattle. Turning quickly around, he saw Vin painfully crawling from under a shelf with his hat in his hand and hurried over to help. "Are you okay, son?"
"Thanks for not givin' me away, Mister," Vin said, accepting the hand held out to help him to his feet. Brushing his hair back from his face, he plopped his hat back onto his head then started digging through his pockets.
"A lot of us aren't happy with the people handling the security of this town..."
"Vin, sir."
"...Vin. At first, the group did a good job of fighting off the marauders who tried to loot the abandoned houses and businesses. Then their camp started growing larger and they claimed they had bought a lot of military equipment they were now using."
"Their leader was caught in Cascade, tryin' ta pick up some stuff my friend said they'd probably stole from the military." Finally pulling out a couple of flat cards from a pocket inside his jacket, Vin held it up and pointed toward the telephone. "Can you help me make a call? Chris was tryin' ta contact some friends back in Cascade. They're police and know about these guys."
"We'll use the telephone in my office," Gordon said, reaching out to take Vin's arm. When the younger man jerked the limb back and held it protectively against his chest, Gordon asked, "Are you all right? Did you get hurt when you hid?"
Tanner shook his head. "Got hurt yesterday. The visiting doc you have here sewed it up."
"Oh, sorry. Mr. Jackson is a pretty good medic, so you're arm should heal okay. Follow me." Leading the way, Gordon unlocked the door and lead Vin over to a desk. Using another key, he unlocked a drawer and pulled out the telephone. "What's the number?"
Vin handed over a business card. "The number on the back is their home number. Try that one first."
The front of the card had a gold police badge on one side. The lettering read, 'Detective James Ellison, Cascade, WA Police Department, Major Crime Division.' There was also a telephone number with an extension and a FAX number. Handwritten on the back were the name 'Blair Sandburg' and another number. Going through the process, which would route the phone call to an outside line, Gordon dialed the written number then handed the receiver to Vin.
The telephone on the other end picked up on the first ring. "Chris? Is that you?"
"It's Vin."
"What's going on, Vin? Where's Chris?"
"Got problems here. We stopped in this town for the night an' Chris heard some guys talkin' about that Kincaid guy from th' warehouse. That's why he was tryin' ta call ya, but a couple of his men stopped him. They drug him off to their camp, Jim. I... I need yer help ta get him back. Safe." Vin's voice broke slightly at the end as he struggled to hold in his emotions.
"Take it easy, kid. We're going to help you, but we need some more information. Chris mentioned the town of Wimbly. Is that where you're staying?"
"I think it's the name of the town an' there's lots of men wearin' soldier clothes helpin' with keepin' the town safe. Th' guy who took Chris; they called him Contreau."
"Beauregard Contreau," Gordon spoke up.
Vin knew Jim had to have heard the shop owner's voice, so he didn't repeat the name. "I think he's in charge fer now. He shook Chris like a dog then locked his hands and took him. He's gonna hurt him... I... I kin feel it."
"Calm down, kid. You have to keep in control if you're going to help Chris. Okay?" Jim waited for several seconds as the listened to Vin take some deep breaths. "You know it will take us a little time to get a team together and get over there. Is there anyplace you can hide?"
"I can head back inta the woods. The trucks back at the roomin' house an' I know where Chris hides the spare key."
"Using the truck isn't a good idea, kid. How much driving has Chris let you do so far?"
Vin wanted to lie, say he'd driven the truck a couple of times, that Chris had given him a couple of lessons, but the words wouldn't come out of his mouth. He finally gave a small, "None."
"That's what I thought. Besides if there is any chance they know where you are staying, they're probably watching the truck, too. Think you can sneak out of town without being seen?"
"I know how to hide proper, don't worry. I'll scout out the camp, find where they're holding Chris and let ya know how it's set up when ya get here."
"No, Vin. I know you want to help and find Chris, but... what? Why?" The last Jim had said away from the phone, then a new voice was on the line.
"Vin, it's Blair. You're worried about Chris being hurt or having problems because you're not with him. Right?"
"Yeah."
"I don't know how far you've gotten with the journal, but you can connect with Chris without touching or even being near him."
"How? Haven't been able to try any of the stuff. Chris-"
"Isn't comfortable with doing anything that sounds like mumbo jumbo or New Age crap? Right? ~sigh~ Jim's the same way. It's all that military brainwashing they go through to only accept what they see, touch, taste, or whatever. And yes you did, Jim. At least until you actually worked with me a few times."
"So, what do I do?"
"Close your eyes and focus on finding that special place in yourself. There is a cord or rope which connects you and Chris together somewhere in that area."
A little nervous about having the shop owner as an audience, Vin closed his eyes and 'looked' as Blair instructed. He struggled for a several seconds before he saw something shiny. Looking closer, he saw that it was a glowing silver string leading away from him.
"Found something. It's a shiny silver rope."
"Silver? Okay, that's it. Imagine your hand reaching forward and picking it up. What do you feel?"
Vin obeyed... and smiled when he immediately felt like he was grabbing Chris' hand. There was also that comforting feeling of being safe. "Wow."
"Great, isn't it? You don't have to see him to know where Chris is or how he's feeling, and you can now find a safe place to hide until we get there. Okay?"
"Yeah, I guess so," Vin finally agreed after enjoying the feelings the connection was giving him for a while longer.
Ellison returned to the phone. "Kid, as long as you are loose, Larabee will be okay. If these guys are like how I think they are, they won't hesitate to use you to get at your partner. So you have to stay free. It will take us a day maybe two to round up our team and get over there. What's the name of the place where you are staying?"
"Henderson's B&B, but it's best if we meet outside of town. They got men watchin'."
"Good thinking, kid. We'll try to meet up at the nearest gas station before the town limits. Keep an eye out for my truck. We'll probably be a convoy of vehicles."
"I'll be watching. And Jim? Thanks."
"Not a problem, kid. Just be patient and stay safe."
"Jus' get here fast... and I ain't a kid, old man." Vin hung up the phone before there was a reply, but he knew the older man would have tried to argue. "Thanks for helping, Sir," Vin said with a nod to Gordon.
"I've got a storage area in the back if you need a place to hide," Gordon offered, leading Vin back into the store area. "They might try to keep an eye on this place during the day, but they won't be able to see too well after dark. Not too many street lights around the front and none in the back."
Vin shook his head. "Don't want to bring down any trouble on ya. There's one place I can hide and still watch for m' friends. Is the back this way?" he asked, sliding his hat firmly onto his head.
The other man nodded then opened his mouth to protest, but Tanner was already heading through the door and through the storage room toward a door that lead to the alley. Easily remembering how he had been able to move silently about the warehouse in Cascade, Tanner slid into the darkness and disappeared.
805 Prospect Ave, Cascade, WA
"...an' I ain't a kid, old man."
Ellison smirked at the younger man's words as he disconnected the call. Tanner's reply told him that he was not exactly calm, but he was thinking and wouldn't do anything rash. It had worried him at the beginning of the call, since the young man wasn't a talker and he was almost saying as much as Sandburg would in a normal conversation. Glancing at his watch, Ellison started dialing a number before a... feeling something like a vibration going through his body had him turning to look at his partner.
Sandburg was standing a few feet away, but his stance was rigid, his head was bowed, hands clenched into fists and his eyes tightly closed. What showed him that nothing was wrong was the fact that the younger man's breathing was slow and steady as if he was meditating.
"Sandburg?" Ellison called softly, stepping closer but not touching the still body. "What's going on, Blair?"
The curly head lifted slightly, turning in the direction of the voice, but the eyes remained closed. "Have to get there. Fast." Blair's voice was low and had almost a dreamy quality. "They're very important... a link... larger connection."
"Connection? With what? Who?" Jim watched Blair carefully as his breathing increased and then caught him just has his legs started to buckle.
Taking a deep breath and opening his eyes wide, Blair grabbed onto Jim's arms as the larger man stopped him from crashing to the floor. "Whoa! What's happening?"
"That's what I'd like to know, Chief." Leading his trembling friend over to the couch, Jim eased him down then sat in the nearby chair when he was sure Blair wouldn't tumble to the floor. "How are you feeling?"
After rubbing both hands over his face, Blair leaned back into the couch and gazed up at the ceiling. "That was... I don't remember ever having something like that happen so quickly. Man!"
"Just what did happen? I felt something through our bond, then you were doing a statue imitation."
"Oh, man... it was the weirdest thing. After I helped Vin find his connection to Chris... they've got a silver connection and not gold like ours. I wonder what that means. Is it supposed to be different or will other sentinels and their guides have different colored connections?" Blair paused in his musings to look over at Jim and saw the older man almost glaring at him. Giving the other a small grin and blushing slightly as he apologized, "Uh, sorry. Can't help falling back into my anthropology training. You know what I mean?"
"Link?" Ellison said, raising an eyebrow to urge his friend to get back onto the subject.
"Link, right. I don't know why I decided to reach out towards Vin, but it felt so right and then I was looking at this topographical map of the country. There was a bright glowing spot where Cascade is located and then I noticed that there were other places across the country that also glowed but they weren't as bright. I think some places might be around the big cities like New York, D.C. and Chicago. There is also a place in Texas, down near the Gulf, but I don't think it is near any of the large cities."
"Larabee and Tanner are going to be living in Denver."
"Right and the glow for that city is not as bright as the others, since the guys haven't gotten there yet, but there was a small glowing spot not too far from us. I'm guessing, and I can't be sure until we check them out, but I think those other cities are where other sentinel/guide pairs are or will be located. It's... it's-"
"A little fantastic if you ask me," Ellison commented, then stood up and strode over to the windows leading to the balcony. He stared out at the darkening area before turning around and asking, "Are you saying that you can now see where other... pairs are located?"
"I don't know, Jim. I'm just guessing here, but it almost seems logical with what I saw. With everything that happened during and after The Chaos, it could be that the time for sentinels to come back into the world has started. You were the first." Sandburg stood up and crossed the room to stand in front of his partner. "Now we've gotten this call from Vin that he and Chris are in trouble and I just happen to be able to see special locations which might be current or future sentinels and guides. What do you think it could mean?"
Ellison sighed and rubbed the back of his head. He silently wished that sometimes the 'mystical' part of being a sentinel wouldn't keep springing up so frequently before finally saying out loud, "That you're probably right and we really need to get over to that town, Wimbly, before something happens to break this 'link' you are now seeing. Chris used the word 'militia' and that might be a warning about the trouble he's facing." He gave a small smile at the pleased expression that blossomed on Sandburg's face. "You go get packed and I'll make a call to Simon. He'll know who else we can call. It will be way out of our jurisdiction, but maybe he and/or a couple of the others will consider taking a small vacation to this lovely little town we've heard about from some friends."
"Thanks, man. I know it is going to be pretty hard to explain to the others, but-" Blair stared up at his friend, the smile on his face fading as he realized the chore Jim had before him to convince his boss and hopefully some of his fellow detectives to help.
"It will be okay, Chief. We'll get there in time to help. Trust me." Ellison rested his hands onto Sandburg's shoulders, gave them a quick squeeze then pushed him toward his room. "You've got an hour to get packed so move it. And don't think you're getting out of here without your cane."
Wimbly, Late Night
There were not any street lights though some of the houses, which had lighted windows as well as the glow from the waning moon, created enough illumination to help Vin as he moved stealthily through the neighborhoods. Earlier that night, he and Chris had walked the few blocks between the B&B and the grocery store and it hadn't been that hard to see even with many of the street lights not working. The truck had been left behind and was still sitting in front of the building. Unfortunately, the men who were sent to hunt him down made sure it wasn't going to go anywhere -- all four tires were flat.
Vin had expected something like that, but he was still angry to see the damage. Moving quietly to a window on the side of the Henderson B&B, he listened for several minutes before moving toward the back. The lights were all off in the building and it seemed so quiet that everyone must already be in bed. Besides the owners and their two young daughters, there was another couple staying at the hostel until they could get a place of their own. He and Chris had been given a rear corner room on the top floor of the three-story building and it had a large tree just outside the window.
Ignoring the pulling ache from his arm, Vin scaled up the tree and slide along the limb until he was in front of the window. He hesitated for a moment, not remembering if the window was unlocked or not, and thought back to earlier that day. After Chris had led him up to the room and told him to take the bed furthest from the door, Vin had wandered over to the window and looked out.
He really didn't like small rooms and this one was the smallest he'd stayed in a long while. Telling Chris he needed to do this, he unlocked and opened the window to allow in a breeze. Chris moved to his side and leaned out the window to check the area. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, Chris went back over to his bed and unpacked a few things from his overnight bag. Then he told Vin to lie down for a few hours while he check a few things out; he wouldn't be that far away.
Vin had wanted to argue that he wasn't tired, but he couldn't hold back the yawns and decided that it wouldn't hurt to rest for a little while. After tossing his jacket and shirt onto a nearby chair and kicking off his boots, he didn't remember anything after his head hit his pillow until Chris had walked back through the door.
The window was closed, but looking closer Vin could see it wasn't completely shut. Taking the risk, he leaned forward until he could rest his hands on the windowsill while his feet barely held onto the tree limb. Balancing carefully, he slowly pushed against the glass until the window was up far enough to get his fingers under the bottom of the pane and push it upwards. Then with ease, he pushed off from the tree and slid into the room. Standing up, the flash of a match being lit near the door had him preparing to dive back through the window.
"Please don't take flight, young sir," a cultured southern voice said quietly. "Ah assure you that Ah mean you no harm." The match was touched on the wick of a lamp and the growing light revealed the other man to be the 'fancy guy' from the doctor's office. He was still in a military uniform, only this one was white, gray and black camouflage -- it was a perfect outfit for one wanting to travel in the dark and not be seen. The man adjusted the wick level until the flame lit the room enough so that both could see each other clearly.
Vin could easily see that the man wasn't holding a weapon, though a bulge in his coat jacket suggested something bulky there, and he was casually leaning back against the door while keeping his hands away from his body. While he didn't relax, Vin shifted until he was standing beside a dresser and within easy reach of several objects sitting on top. He also knew he could get the knife sheathed at his hip.
"Why're ya here?" Vin asked. "Where's the others?"
The other smiled easily, flashing his gold tooth. "When Ah learned that the others were determined to capture you and your friend, Ah followed to see if Ah could intercede before any damage was perpetrated on either of your persons. Seeing that you were not with your friend when he was taken away, Ah then made my way back to this abode in hopes of preventing your capture by the men sent by Mr. Contreau. Ah do apologize for the damage inflicted on your fine mode of transportation."
Tanner cocked his head slightly, clearly confused, and asked, "Uh, I'm not completely sure whatcha said, but who are ya and why are ya helping?"
"Ah apologize for my lack of manners. Ah have been here too long around these ruffians and their crude ways. To the group of this small berg Ah am known as Ethan Standers. And you are?"
He hesitated for several long seconds, knowing that the name given to him wasn't his real one, then trusted the 'feelings' he was picking up from the man and said, "Vin Tanner."
Standers lifted his left hand carefully and touched the fingers to his head as if he was tipping a hat. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Tanner. Congratulations on your ability to evade capture."
Tanner tilted his head slightly and looked carefully at the other man. "You're not really working with those men, are ya?"
"Let's just say that many things are not completely as they seem." Ethan flashed another smile then pointed to the empty chair a few feet from him. "Do you mind if Ah take a seat while we converse? My position within the organization isn't one of much importance and therefore Ah have spent much of today running errands after our meeting at the clinic."
Leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest, Vin nodded his head. "Go ahead an if ya can speak plain English, why don't ya talk about why you're here. Ya don't need to try an fool me, even with ya being fearful of giving out your real name."
A frown appeared briefly on Standers face before he smoothed it back to a more pleasant expression. "Interesting. You seem to be able to see past what very few have, and Ah have only experienced that once before. By chance, would your companion be a member of some law enforcement agency? Due to your youth, Ah'm assuming you're not old enough to be employed by any such organization."
"Chris was Navy. Retired," Vin replied then again looked at the other closely. "You're needing help, right? Somethin's gone wrong."
"Yes," Standers said, slumping slightly with a sigh, "and your insightful ability is almost frightening. Who was your companion trying to call before he was interrupted?"
"Friends."
"How soon do you expect them to arrive?"
"Tomorrow late, maybe the next morning. I hope."
The last was said so quietly that Standers almost didn't hear it. "Mr. Tanner, Ah know you don't know me, and you have no right to even think to trust me, but Ah will do my utmost to try and keep your friend as safe as possible as long as there are not any surprises. Are your approaching friends with any certain agency -- FBI, CIA, Homeland Security?"
Vin shook his head. "They're cops. Met them in Cascade and they said t' call if we needed help."
At the mention of the city, Standers sat up straighter. "Cascade, Washington?"
All of the sudden knowing what was going through the other man's mind, Vin said with a slight smirk, "Kincaid and his men ain't gonna be showing up for a long while."
"Ah don't know if Ah should be relieved or worried by your news, Mr. Tanner. This definitely changes everything." Standers quickly stood and moved toward the door.
"What's wrong? Ain't it a good thing that these guys don't have their leader?"
"Ah don't know, honestly. Col. Kincaid is a very... charismatic leader who could easily find disgruntled men willing to follow him and his crusade. However, Mr. Contreau has been in a position of power with this group long enough to have garnered the loyalty of many of the men. Ah can only hope that the loyalty isn't strong enough for them to blindly follow him."
As he reached for the door handle, Standers saw the younger man move to the bed, kneel and pull a bag from underneath. From the satchel, Tanner pulled out a box of ammunition and dumped the contents out before grabbing a handful and filling his pant pockets. He also pulled out two loaded magazines and tucked them into his back pockets. Then he shifted the bedspread and reached under the pillow to pull out two handguns -- one was a small revolver, which once check to see that it was loaded, fit easily into an inner coat pocket. The other was a 9mm automatic.
Larabee had let him know about the guns the first night they were away from the city and showed him how to handle them safely. They were going to do some practice shooting along the way, but Tanner understood that he wouldn't be the one using them unless it was an emergency. Cautiously Tanner removed, checked and replaced the magazine as he'd been taught then tucked the weapon into his belt at his back as he stood up.
"What are you doing?" Standers asked, cautiously eyeing the younger man as he zipped up his jacket and adjusted his hat more firmly onto his head.
Vin gave the green-eyed man a long look before grabbing the bag of beef jerky from the top of the dresser, stuffing it into a pocket, then step over to the window. "Preparing."
"For what, pray tell? A war?"
"If it comes to that."
"Ah assure you that this place will be quite safe if you do not let the ones outside watching know you found a way inside."
"Ya heading back to the camp?"
"Eventually, after Ah try one more time to make connections with others who will need to know what has happened. If they are there," Standers mumbled the last as he checked his watch.
"I'll meetcha there." After again pressing his hat firmly onto his head, Vin climbed onto the windowsill and gracefully leaped over to the tree limb. He hit it with a small grunt but ignored the pain from his ribs and quickly climbed to his feet.
Standers ran to the open window and watched as Tanner moved along the limb like a squirrel, climb down the trunk to the ground and disappear into the darkness. "What just happened here?" he asked, knowing there wasn't anyone to hear or answer him.
Militia Base Camp, Outside Wimbly
Chris Larabee again quietly checked the knob of the door, for what must have been the sixth or seventh time in the last hour, and sighed as it only moved a fraction of an inch before stopping. The door was locked and it wasn't going to become unlocked just because he felt the need to test it about every ten minutes. Of course, that was after he paced several laps around the small room that only had a tiny screened opening on the wall opposite the door. There wasn't any furniture in the room, no place to sit or lie down except on the floor, but there was a 5-gallon bucket in a corner that he could only guess was for when he had to relieve himself.
He didn't know where he was, only that it wasn't in Wimbly and hopefully not too far away. After being taken out of the grocery story, he'd been tossed into the back of a van and a hood pulled over his head. The drive had taken a little less than an hour, and it didn't seem like his captors had tried to confuse him by not taking a direct route.
The camp had to be set up somewhere in the countryside away from town, or so the odors he was detecting were telling him. The almost overpowering scent of pine and other trees had Larabee struggling to bring his sense of smell down. It hadn't been easy, since he and Tanner hadn't been working on it much. No, that wasn't really the truth. His partner had wanted him to practice on his sense before they had left Cascade, but he had convinced him to hold off until they were on the road. Who knew Tanner would get hurt, they'd have stop over into a town on the way, other members of the militia group they'd help take down in Cascade would be set up in that town... ~sigh~
Shaking off the depressing thoughts, Chris concentrated on any sounds he could detect either through the walls or from the window. He needed to know what was happening around him if he had hopes of getting away. Off to his left some men were cleaning weapons, the odor of gun oil suddenly stronger than pine scent if only for a few seconds. Somewhere behind him, a few people were cleaning up after a meal a broom was being used on a floor, wet cloths being rubbed over something and there was the clatter of dishes and silverware with running water.
"What do you mean you can't find the kid? He wasn't at the boarding house?"
Larabee stiffened. The voice was Contreau's and he had to be talking about Tanner. Opening his hearing more, he could pick up the other man's voice over the radio.
"We were watching the store until it closed a couple of minutes ago. He couldn't be there 'cause Gordon wouldn't have left him in there. Timmons and Dalton are still over at the boarding house. They took care of the truck and no one has come or gone since they started watching, except for Standers showing up."
"Standers? What's he doing there? He's supposed to be back here doing another detail. What did he tell you?"
"Hell if I can understand him half the time. He gave some long-winded lecture that sounded like he was some fancy college professor, excused himself and said he had a meeting."
"Hold on, Jacobs. Woodruff!"
Larabee jerked his head as the man yelled. Shaking his head, he refocused his hearing but not at full strength. Apparently Woodruff wasn't too far away, since Contreau's voice was back down in volume, but it was still angry.
"The minute you see Standers' ass, you drag him to my office and make sure he waits for me. And if he tries to give you any excuses, knock him out and chain him to a chair!"
"Right away, Mr. Contreau."
"Phillips, leave two of your men there and head over to that doctor's house."
"You think the kid might go there?"
"Just get over there and check the place out. I want that kid! Out!"
Larabee heard a double click of the hand mic as the conversation was ended and pulled his hearing back. He gave a sigh of relief, knowing that they hadn't found Tanner yet. The kid was good at hiding and taking care of himself, that Larabee had learned when they'd met up at the warehouse. He only hoped Tanner would find a place to roost and wait for help to arrive. Ellison and Sandburg weren't idiots and they had to know something was wrong from the short phone call he'd made to them. Unfortunately, it might take a few days before they arrived and he needed to escape before he became useless to the militia group. They couldn't just let him go now. He also had to find Tanner before the kid decided to take it upon himself to try and rescue Larabee.
Checking the doorknob one more time, Larabee started feeling along the wall to the left of the door and listening carefully as he quietly tapped. The room looked like it was part of a simple pre-fabricated building, framing placed onto a floor and a roof slapped on top. It wasn't meant to be used a long-term facility, just as a temporary shelter, and therefore wasn't built for strength. There had to be a weakness somewhere and he would find it. He would get free.
Nathan Jackson wasn't in any hurry to get back to the place he was calling home in this town, even though it was getting close to midnight. The night was cool but comfortable and the walk helped him clear his head. He'd been asked by an off-duty cop to come a house a few of blocks away to help out with a couple that had been in an argument. The woman wasn't injured too bad, a black eye and a cut on the mouth, but her 'housemate' was sporting a few cuts around the groin area and they needed stitches. He kept apologizing and promising never to do it again while Nathan was sewing him up.
Neither was going to press charges against the other, though the officer suggested that the two spend a few days apart, think about what had happened and what their future should be like. Nathan shook his head again at the whole thing and mused about life in the small town. If this had happened in a big city, both the man and woman would probably be heading for jail. The fact that the local police force was still handling some of the law enforcement was a bit of a mystery. Maybe the militia didn't want to handle the minor problems.
As he neared his house, flashlights and movement around the front porch caused him to hesitate for a minute before starting to run. "Hey! What are you doing?" Jackson called.
One man swung his flashlight around and shined it into Jackson's face causing the medic to shade his eyes and slow down to a walk. A second man came around the side of the house and then the porch light flared on and a third man stood in the doorway.
"We're looking for someone, Doc," the third man said. "That kid you treated earlier today. Have you seen him tonight?"
"What?" Nathan blinked furiously to get his eyes to adjust to the bright lights when he reached the sidewalk in front of his house. A quick glance around showed that there weren't any lights on in the houses around him. Either his neighbors were asleep or they were hiding and had no intention on getting involved with whatever was going down.
The third man moved further onto the porch, his hand resting on the gun holster attached to his belt. "Mr. Contreau said you treated a kid this morning. He and his friend caused some trouble at the Country Cupboard this evening. We're trying to find the kid before he causes any more problems."
"You know I won't use my rooms for people to stay for anything but serious injuries. I've told your leaders that repeatedly. The young man I treated this morning left with his friend and Contreau knows that since he was here when they left. So who are you and why are you going through my offices?" Not thinking, anger clouding his judgment, Nathan moved up the sidewalk until he stood in front of the men.
The obvious leader of the group crossed his arms over his chest and sneered at the Black man. "I am Sergeant Jacobs and as we are members of this community's law enforcement, we are duly authorized to enter any building necessary to search out and apprehend law breakers."
Jackson snorted. "If we were under Marshall Law, which I haven't heard being declared for any type of national or state emergency, that might be true. As it is, this office is for the treatment of patients and you have no right to be in there after hours unless there is a medical emergency."
Jacobs looked at his two men and gave a short jerk with his head causing them to quickly step down and stand on either side of Jackson. They grabbed his arms before he could move away and held him steady. A large smile appeared on the Jacobs' face before he stepped forward and sank a fist in Jackson's stomach.
The breath knocked out of him, Jackson wanted to curl forward and clutch his stomach as he gasped for air, but the hands on his arms held him up. He didn't see the fist heading for his face, but he felt it smash into it and stars burst in front of his eyes. He expected to feel a third hit, but instead heard Jacobs' voice.
"I think someone's hurt now, don't you, Doc?" Jacobs glanced at his watch before continuing, "Take him to the camp. I think he's involved with those other two more than he wants us to think and it's too close to The Rebirth for any loose ends to be allowed."
"Want us to come back and pick you up?" the man holding Jackson's left arm asked.
"Nah. I'll head over to the B&B and wait with Smitty and Paul to see if the kid shows up then catch a ride back with them. See ya later, Doc," the Jacobs said with a chuckle as he patted Jackson on the cheek. Then he stepped off the porch and disappeared into the darkness.
Hefting Jackson's left side up to make the dazed man stand on his feet, the man jerked his head toward the street. "Come on. Let's get this guy to the truck before he wakes up too much."
"Did you have to park so far down the road?" the other one griped. "He ain't a light weight."
"Quit whining and start moving."
Dragging the stumbling EMT between them, the two men cut across the front lawn toward the street. An outline of their truck could be barely seen about four houses down the dark street with a large pine tree in their path. As they moved under the branches, a compact body flew down from above with barely a sound and landed on the guy holding Jackson's right arm. The two crashed to the ground; an arm swung up and then quickly knocked the larger man out.
As soon as his right arm had been released, Nathan took advantage of his freedom and was moving to tackle the other man holding onto his other arm. He landed on his former captor and punched his elbow into the man's gut to prevent him from calling out. He then used the elbow of his other arm to swing and catch the now breathless man across the jaw. The man collapsed back onto the ground and lay still. Breathing heavily, Nathan hung his head and struggled to push his aching body up onto his knees. A hand landed on his shoulder, and he jerked around bringing his fists up.
"Whoa there, Doc," Vin said jumping back. "I'm one of the good guys."
Nathan blinked several times, trying to clear his eyesight, then wiped a hand over his face when he recognized the long-haired youth. "Vin Tanner, right?"
Tanner smiled. "Yep. I saw what happened and thought ya might want some help. You okay?"
Jackson looked first at the man he'd knocked out then over to the one lying behind Tanner. Neither was moving. "I am now. What are you doing here? And what's going on? These guys said they were looking for you because of something you and your friend did."
Leaning over, Tanner offered the other his arm and helped him stand though a bit unsteadily. "We didn't do anything. Chris recognized the name of their leader and was trying to call some friends when they took him."
"Took him? Why? What's so important about Contreau? He's nothing but a flunky, a wanna be."
"Not that guy. Man named Kincaid. Part of a group arrested over in Cascade for stealin' lots a military stuff. They were talking about starting some big trouble. Me 'n Chris helped stop him." Looking around, Vin saw his hat off to the side of a tree and strolled over to pick it up and position it onto his head. "Reckon these guys don't know he ain't coming back. Yet."
Nathan's eyes widened and he gave a low whistle. "Damn, we knew there was something wrong with this group when they moved in. That's why I sent Rain on ahead to Denver."
"Rain?"
"My lady. She and I had several conversations when this group started making their camp outside the town. It looked too much like a military operation and when they 'volunteered' to assist with the law in the town-"
"They started to take control."
Nathan nodded. "You said they took your friend, Larabee, as he was calling for some help?" At Vin's nod, he continued, "What type of help? Police? Military?"
"Whatever they can gather, but it'll take a day or two ta get here. I need to find Chris and help get him free."
"Wait a minute. Are you thinking of trying to free your friend before the others can arrive? That's not a good idea, Vin. First, there are a lot of them running around that camp of theirs. Second, I know that most if not all of them are armed. You could get hurt or killed. We should wait until your friends show up."
"Don't think Chris has th' time. They haven't hurt him too much, but they might or even kill him. I don't have the time to wait." Stepping back slightly, Vin started to turn and disappear into the darkness when Nathan's voice stopped him.
"Wait! Let me get some things from my place and I'll try to get us as close as possible to the camp." Without seeing if Vin was following, Nathan started back to his clinic. The men who'd searched through it had left the door wide open and the lights on.
Moving through the building, Jackson led the way to the back of the house, which held a small bedroom with an attached half bathroom. "We're probably being damn fools to try this on our own, but better two of us instead of you alone," he mumbled almost to himself as he pulled open the bottom drawer of a large dresser and pulled out a large knife and holstered pistol buried under folded up pants.
"We might have another ta help," Tanner commented from the doorway, watching the other man arm himself. Jackson froze, looked at Tanner and raised an eyebrow in question. A small smile appeared on the younger man's face as he said, "That fancy talking Standers fella."
"Ethan Standers? He's one of Contreau's butt kissers and about as useful as a rash." Shaking his head in disbelief, Nathan stuck the knife into its sheath and pulled on the special harness it was attached. The large weapon was positioned in the middle of his back with the handle just below the bottom of his shirt collar. The gun holster was attached at his back to his belt and the coat he put on covered the weapons completely. "I don't think we could or should depend on any help from that... man."
"He ain't one of them and I think he's been working with someone to stop 'em."
"How do you know?"
"Conversation back at the hotel. Sounded like he ain't been in contact with his group for a bit, though."
A few thoughts went through Jackson's mind as he remembered the few times he'd observed Standers, but nothing the man said or did added up to him being anything but a member of the militia group. "Well, I haven't seen anything special about him and we'll have to worry about him if he shows up at the camp. Right now we better get moving before anyone comes looking for those guys outside."
Leading the way out, Jackson turned off the lights and made sure the front door was locked before heading around the building to where he kept his Jeep parked. Tanner followed behind like a silent shadow.
A Darkened Store in Town
The store's alarm didn't sound when the back door opened to admit a man wearing winter camouflage clothing. Moving carefully but confidently, he traveled to the area in the store he knew housed a pay telephone. Lifting the receiver, he first attached a small device to it before pulling a card from his pants and swiping it through the debit/credit slot. Without hesitation, he quickly dialed a number. The phone on the other end rang only once before it connected. A recorded voice came over the line.
"We're sorry. The number you have dialed is no longer in service-"
With a curse, the man disconnected the call before he heard any more. Dropping his head to his chest, he thought for almost a minute before dialing another number. This time, the telephone on the other end rang several times... but no one picked up. Shifting his sleeve back and quickly glancing at his illuminated watch, the man calculated that it wasn't too early where he was trying to call. Even if it was before normal working hours, there was always supposed to be someone in the office by the phones whenever an operation was in progress. Such as the one he was currently performing.
With a sigh, after figuring that the phone had rang at least 20 times, he hung up. "Ah guess Ah am on my own," he said quietly. "Again."
Next Day, Pre-dawn, Outside Militia Camp
Nathan Jackson was almost to the point of creating new cuss words. He and Vin Tanner had driven to an area a couple of miles from where he knew the militia group's camp was set up. Jackson had wanted to wait until it was lighter before traveling, mainly because while it wasn't completely dark it also wasn't very light since the moon was setting and there could be too much of a chance of either or both of them getting hurt. There was also the possibility of the camp having lookouts and it would be easier to see and avoid them in the light of day.
Tanner had other ideas and at first disappeared into the darkness before he could be stopped. Jackson stumbled after him and crashed into a tree and a bush before Tanner appeared at his side and asked if he was ready to follow him. Knowing he would be left behind, and fearing Tanner might do something rash if left on his own, Jackson agreed but asked for caution. The young man just looked at him for a minute before starting back through the forest but at a slower pace.
What brought on the cursing were the times Tanner would stop, whisper 'wait here', and take off on his own. This latest incident seemed to be a lot longer than the other times and Jackson was getting worried... and frustrated until a shadow appeared at his elbow, almost causing him to jump out of his skin.
"Couple a men hiding up ahead. Need t' go way around," Vin whispered.
Catching his breath from the scare, Nathan reached out a hand and rested it on the youth's shoulder. "Maybe we should wait until it is lighter." Before Vin could argue, Nathan quickly said, "If we wait until they are making a shift change, which probably will be at dawn, it will save us a lot of traveling and getting tired out. We almost might hear them say something we can use. How about it? It will only be a couple of hours."
Tanner turned his head and stared in the direction of the camp for several breaths before turning back and dropping his head down to his chest. He closed his eyes and felt for Larabee, almost instantly 'feeling' his friend. He could feel that the older man had some pain around his wrists, but the aching he could feel radiating through the man's body wasn't from something someone did to him. More like a sore stiffness. It also felt like Larabee was asleep.
"Okay, but not for long," Vin finally replied, lifting his head. "Iffin' the men don't get changed, we head off to the right and circle around."
Jackson couldn't see Tanner's face, but he could hear the determination in his voice. The younger man would take off without him. Reluctantly he said, "Agreed. Did you happen to see any place where we could hide during our wait? Just in case they have roving patrols."
Without answering, Vin led the other man around a few young pines and towards a large fallen tree that was hollowed out on one end. Dropping easily down onto his hands and knees, he crawled into the opening. Groaning silently, and moving more slowly, Jackson followed.
Chris Larabee awoke to the sound of men, four that he could count, walking toward his building. He'd only had a couple of hours of sleep, after finally accepting that there wasn't any way out of where he was being held without outside help, and his internal clock told him it had to be seven or eight o'clock in the morning. The approaching men were probably coming to do a long overdue interrogation, so Chris rose to his feet and moved toward the back of his prison and waited.
As soon as the door was unlocked, it flew open and slammed against the wall. Two men in BDU's stood back from the entrance, pointing their handguns in his direction and obviously expecting some type of action from the prisoner. They relaxed slightly seeing him leaning against the back wall with his arms cross over his chest and one leg crossed over the other.
"You must really think I'm dangerous man," Chris said with a challenge in his voice. "I'm not armed, so you four can come on in."
A third man slowly moved to stand near his compatriots, a quizzical expression on his face as he looked into the room and his sidearm lowered. The expression on his face in as much asked the question 'How did you know how many of us there were?' Then Contreau stepped into the doorway. His weapon still in its holster at his side, but his right hand rested on the grip.
"You are Chris Larabee," Contreau stated. Larabee only gave him a slight nod, since there didn't seem to be any reason to deny the fact. "Where did your kid disappear to last night?"
Chris glared at the man. "Don't have any kids, never have."
Contreau tried to match the glare, but his didn't seem to have the same heat. "Then your partner, the long-haired kid traveling with you. He was with you at the doctor's office yesterday morning and you were together last night. The Henderson's said you checked in together, are sharing a room, and some of my men have seen you two together. Where is he?"
"Hell if I know. I'm just doing a favor for my sister." Larabee knew Tanner would understand the lie he was telling, but he was still glad the younger man wasn't able to hear the tone in the words. "Why am I being held prisoner?"
"Why were you asking around about Garrett Kincaid last night?"
With a sigh, Larabee pushed away from the wall and took a few steps toward the door. The three men standing outside instantly went on alert and raised their weapons. "Okay, I heard the name mentioned when I was at the doctor's office. Back in Seattle, I remember a guy who I thought had the same name. He and another of his men were in a store the kid was in and apparently something happened between them. I got the kid away from there and we left town as soon as possible. Last night I was trying to find out if he was in town or coming so I could keep the kid out of his way."
"You saw him in Seattle. When was this?"
"Two or three days ago."
Chris saw one of the men outside the door lean toward the guy to his left and heard him whisper, "Wasn't the Colonel supposed to be in Cascade?" The other man frowned and nodded.
Contreau apparently heard the man and tossed a glare over his shoulder, causing the two men to instantly straighten and adjust their grips on their guns. Turning his attention back to Larabee, he crossed his arms over his chest and asked, "You're saying that while you were in Seattle three days ago, you saw a man calling himself Garett Kinkaid at a store with another man. Who was the other guy?"
Scratching his head and pretending to think for several seconds, Larabee finally said, "I think he called the guy Welton...or Walton. Something like that."
"Walters?"
"Maybe," Chris said shrugging with one shoulder. "Wasn't paying that much attention. Last I saw, the two were climbing into one of those new, fancy cars and hauling down the road like they owned it. Now, I told you what I know, so how long are you going to be keeping me here?"
Not answering the question, Contreau spun around and stomped out of the room. Two of the guards waiting outside moved out of his way to let him pass then fell in behind as he strode away. The third man leaned in, grabbed the handle and pulled the door shut. The sound of the lock being re-engaged seemed to echo in the room.
Moving silently, Chris went to the door and opened his hearing. He easily heard Contreau issuing orders.
"Get someone in a vehicle and on their way to Cascade. The Colonel should have picked up the supplies and be on his way back here by now."
"Should we send someone to Seattle to check that guy's story, sir?"
"No."
"But what-"
"Are you questioning Colonel Garett Kincaid's commitment to the cause, soldier? If I hear anything other than a firm no, you will be charged with insurrection and facing the Colonel when he returns."
"No Sir!"
"Put yourself on report, Abrams, and get out of my sight. And somebody better find that long-haired kid by sundown!"
Larabee smiled grimly. Hearing the solder question the story he told was the best thing possible. Even with the threat of punishment, the information would be spread to others and the idea of their leader abandoning them would start to grow. Propaganda was a good tool to use. Then there was the fact that despite all the men in this group, Tanner was still running around free. That made his smile broaden until he felt a little tugging at his soul.
That feeling he was now associating with Vin flared and Chris automatically reached for it. He'd felt a similar warmth the night before, like a comfortable handshake between two close friends. Last night there seemed to be a distance associated with the feeling, and that was expected since Vin was still back in the town, but not today. It felt like he was close, within a mile at least, and that worried Chris.
Moving over to the window, Chris lifted his head and inhaled. The rush of odors associated with a large group of people camping away from all the conveniences of a town was almost overwhelming, but the internal connection with his guide kept him from going out of control. Sifting through the odors as best as possible, he couldn't find anything of Vin and changed back to his hearing.
Rising onto his toes, he was able to see easily out the window. He could see crates stacked at the back of his building not too far away from the tree line. There were buildings to either side of his, though Chris could only see the edges of them if he craned his head to the left and right. A flash of movement along the back of the buildings to his left caught his attention and he focused his eyesight on the figure moving carefully along the back. It was Standers and by his actions, while it didn't look as though he was trying to hide, he apparently didn't want others in the camp to know he was in the area.
He'd only seen the man at the doctor's office, and the others he had been with didn't make Larabee feel very comfortable about contacting the man. However, his actions at the office as well as the conversation overheard from Contreau raised some questions about Standers' loyalty to the group and the cause.
Larabee gave a warbling type whistle, which he hoped was loud enough for the other to hear but not draw the attention of the others. Standers acted like he didn't hear the sound as he continued to move carefully until Larabee whistled again only a bit louder.
Standers hesitated in his movement then pressed his back against a building and waited. After almost a minute, he leaned forward and looked around the area. Not seeing anyone he almost started forward again when the whistle came again, apparently from two buildings away. He could see a hand pressed against the screen of a small window, bowing it out a small ways. Checking the area again and ensuring there wasn't anyone else around, he trotted quickly until he was next to the window.
"Mr. Larabee, I presume," Standers whispered when he finally was able to see who it was. "Are you unharmed?"
"For now, but you're friends here are looking for you," Larabee said quietly. "They didn't sound too happy."
"Ah am guessing that my friends as you call them have some knowledge of me or my actions and Ah risk being apprehended if Ah am found around the camp." At Larabee's nod, Standers sighed. He thought that might be a possibility, but having it confirmed by another already imprisoned wasn't good. "Ah spoke with your young companion last night and he informed me that while you are not a law enforcement officer, there will be persons of this type arriving hopefully soon."
At the mention of the other being in contact with Vin, Chris perked up. "Was he okay?"
"Yes, and we did speak at the boarding house for a few moments last night. He was fine though quite worried about you and your circumstances. However, when Ah tried to convince him to stay hidden at the abode, he didn't seem inclined to listen to my advice. Ah am afraid that he armed himself with several weapons and left my presence before Ah could stop him. And no, Ah did not feel inclined to dive out of a two-story window and into the dubious steadiness of a tree to prevent him from leaving."
Chris clenched his fists, closed his eyes and lowered his head at the news. "Damn him, why didn't he..." Not finishing the sentence, Chris listened carefully to the area around his building before leaning up and into the window so that he could look into the other's face. "Can you get me out of here?"
Standers hesitated for several seconds before shaking his head, "Ah am not sure that would be a prudent action on my part at this time. The camp is currently calm though restive in waiting for the leadership to return, and releasing you might be similar to kicking a hornet's nest. Getting stung in the fallout is not something Ah would relish."
"Damn it, I need to get out of here! Vin is near by and he'll be kicking your hornet's nest in a way that will not be pretty in order to get to me."
"Ah am sorry, Mr. Larabee, but Ah need to do a few things first before Ah can assist you in your escape." Standers shifted to glance around the side of the building before turning back and saying, "Give me a couple of hours. If Ah cannot resolve some of my problems by then, Ah will return."
"Wait!" Chris almost yelled out the window. "Get back here!" He watched in frustration as the Southerner ignored the order and quietly stole around the side of the building and away. Chris listened until he couldn't hear the other's movement any longer then stomped over to the door and yanked stubbornly at it. When it didn't budge, he smashed a fist against it several times before giving up and leaning forward to press his head against the wood. A headache, which had been barely noticeable in the morning, was starting to grow and getting angry wasn't helping. Breathing heavily, he fought to control his temper when a low growl caught his attention.
Turning slowly around, Larabee saw a mountain lion pacing under the window. It's movements showed agitation as it stalked back and forth glancing up at the opening with each pass. Suddenly it stopped and looked at Larabee, it's green eyes flashing in anger as it snarled.
"I know," Chris said to the apparition as he rubbed his brow. "But since I can't get out of here right now, why don't you go watch over the kid?" The spirit animal locked eyes with the blond man for several breaths before stalking past him and disappearing through the door. "If only it was that easy," Chris mumbled then went back over to the window to listen.
Late Morning of the Same Day
The guard Vin had found earlier that morning had indeed changed with the sunrise, but the numbers watching the perimeter of the camp increased. Frustrated, he agreed to Nathan's plan of using more stealth and traveling around to what they hoped was the back of the camp. It involved moving slowly and further away from the perimeter than he wanted. At the sound of rustling, Vin dropped down into a crouch behind some brush. Nathan followed closely behind.
A man in a camouflage uniform stepped to the side of a tree not too far from the hiding place, glanced around the area quickly, then leaned his rifle against a tree before shifting his clothing and relieving himself. He finished quickly and adjusted his clothing before reaching for his weapon when a shadow moved at the edge of his vision and he thought he heard a low growl. Whirling around, his eyes frantically searched the area while his hand blindly felt around the tree trunk. Not seeing anything, he still snatched up his rifle and swung it back and forth as he stumbled backwards in the direction of the camp. After taking about 20 steps, he turned and ran from the area.
"What was wrong with him?" Nathan asked quietly when he was sure the military man was out of hearing range.
Vin shook his head as he stood up. "Don' know. Looked like he heard something that spooked him good." He listened around the area and felt within himself for any possible danger, but there wasn't anything he could sense. "Can't feel anything wrong and there ain't been any sign of bear or cat."
At Nathan's confused look, Vin explained, "Been seeing sign of small animals acting easy, and no sign of tracks or scat from anything large enough to make them hide."
"So we shouldn't have anything to worry about either. Right?"
Tanner smiled at the uneasiness in the other man's voice. Apparently he wasn't the type who spent a lot of time out in the woods. "Right, nothing to worry about." Starting through the brush again, he decided to change the subject and asked, "How big didja say the camp was?"
"The last time I was out here, it looked to be about three city blocks long and maybe five or six deep," Jackson answered, glancing around every now and then despite the assurance of safety from his companion. "They'd started out with a deserted Boy Scout camp in the forest, but I'd seen they had started taking down some trees. Making the area larger. That was a couple of months ago, so I don't know how far it has been enlarged since. I don't think there are more than 30 or 40 men in the camp."
"Without the ones that went t' Cascade?"
Jackson hesitated. "I'm not sure. We can only hope. When did you say your friends might get here?"
"Maybe tonight or tomorrow morning."
"From Cascade?"
Vin shrugged his shoulders. "We weren't tryin' to move fast. Left kinda late the first day and got hurt the second night."
"Then we can only hope they think the situation serious enough to travel quick-" Nathan quieted when he saw Vin freeze then drop down into a crouch and almost crawl for at least 100 yards before reaching a tall stand of brush. Following the younger man's example, he also shifted down low to the ground and moved as quiet as possible until he was at Vin's side.
Reaching carefully forward, Vin shifted a branch to the side only enough to see the scene on the other side of the brush. It was three men in uniforms in front of a large metal shed; the door was open and several long crates were lined up on the ground to the left. The men were sitting on other boxes cleaning what looked to be military rifles. They weren't doing a thorough cleaning, only enough to take off the packing grease and then placing the rifles back into the building, standing them up against the back wall.
"Oh Lord," Nathan breathed as he took in the scene. He was also able to see enough of the inside of the shed to know that there were a lot more crates as well as stacks of metal containers that would normally hold ammunition. Tapping Vin on the shoulder, he motioned backwards then started crawling in that direction until they were what he thought was a safe enough distance in order to have a conversation.
"We have to get back to town and talk to the authorities," Jackson whispered. "It looks like they have enough in there to start their own war."
"Who'd we tell?" Vin asked. "They're part of the law around here, ain't they?"
"There was a sheriff's office here before these guys showed up."
"An' if they've been taken over?"
Jackson opened his mouth to argue, then thought the question over. Over the last month, it did seem like it was members of the militia group responding to most of the problems. The call he'd gotten last night was from one of the few deputies he knew and the only one he heard from on a regular basis. What if there was only a token force?
Then there was the group coming from Cascade. "You're right," Nathan finally said. "There might be a few I know we could trust, but I'm not sure how many. Anyway, you should head back to wait for your friends. I can keep watch here."
Vin shook his head. "Can't drive, and I'm not leaving without knowing about Chris."
"I can't leave you here alone," Nathan argued quietly, reaching out a hand to grab Vin's arm, but the younger man easily avoided him and moved several feet away.
"Someone needs t' meet my friends when they show up and you know more of what's been happening. Wait at a gas station just outside of town. Jim drives an old blue and white truck -- really old. Can't miss it or Blair. He's kinda short an' got long curly hair. Might have a car or two a followin'."
Trying one more time, Nathan said, "Vin, at least come back with me to get some supplies."
A small smirk appeared on the other's face. "Got some stuff, but they can feed me while I wait." Then without another word, Tanner slid into the brush and was gone.
Jackson started forward, a protest on his lips, but the younger man was gone and he couldn't hear him moving. Silently cursing, Jackson slipped quietly back through the woods to where he'd left his jeep. He only glanced back once in hopes of catching a glimpse of his former companion before concentrating on his path. There had been at least two teams of lookouts on the way in and hopefully there weren't any more.
Driving back toward town didn't take as long as driving to the camp, or so Jackson thought when he finally pulled into a deserted gas station that was about three miles outside of the west side city limits. He pulled his Jeep around to the side of the building, making sure to park in a sunny spot and flip open the cover of the solar panel on the top to recharge the battery system for the vehicle. After he saw that the system was charging, he grabbed a water bottle from the cooler stored behind the front seat and walked around to the front of the station and found a place to sit where he was out of sight, in some shade, but still able to see the road clearly.
After The Chaos, pretty much every gas station across the country went out of business with the supply line being cut. Whatever was in stock was confiscated by the government for use by the military and emergency services, but it didn't last long. The inventory the government kept aside for emergencies weren't all that much either, but it helped. It wasn't until technology seemed to miraculously explode with the creation of electric and other types of engines that didn't require fossil fuels that people once again became mobile. Gas stations were still around, though only some of the small groceries or restaurants that cohabitated the sites stayed open. The one Jackson waited at had on a partial sign indicating what it had been -- the words weren't readable, but the picture of a green dinosaur could still be seen.
The sun was hanging low in the sky before an older, blue and white truck appeared followed closely by a new SUV. The vehicles slowed then pulled along side the concrete pedestals where the gas pumps once stood. Jackson waited at his spot and observed as the driver of the truck stepped out from his side and walked back to the SUV. The man sitting in the front passenger seat of the SUV stepped out and joined him.
"How much farther, Jim?" the SUV rider asked. He was African American, wore glasses and stood a couple inches taller than 'Jim'.
"If Sandburg's right, Simon, we should be just a few miles outside of town," Jim Ellison replied.
Simon Banks snorted in amusement. "You mean you actually believe 'Wrong Way Sandburg' knows where we are? I've seen him get turned around in the city park, so I doubt if map reading is one of his skills."
"He... uh, wasn't reading the map, Sir. He said he could 'feel' where..."
"Oh." Banks pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes before returning them to his face. He was still learning about the partnership of the two men and hated when the esoteric situations arose. Pulling a map from his pocket, he opened it and spread it on the hood of the SUV. "At least point it out to me on the map. It's not that I don't trust the kid, but it helps me understand better."
Ellison used his left hand to indicate their position, leaving his right hand free and nearer to where he had his pistol holstered, then leaned in a little closer to his boss and said in a low voice, "We're being watched, Sir. They're in that shaded pile of junk off to the side of the building."
Acting like he was checking around the whole area, Banks made a slow 180-degree turn before returning to look at the map. "Do you think it might be your friend, Tanner?"
Ellison shook his head. "He'd be out here with us if it was. Wait, he's starting to move."
Ellison straightened up and stepped back from the SUV to get a clearer view of the man rising from his hiding position. Banks followed his lead, but stepping a few paces to the side, which would allow both men clear access to their weapons.
Jackson decided to take a chance of revealing himself even though it looked like one of the men was dressed in dark, military style clothing. The description of the truck was right, and there was a young man with long, curly hair in the passenger side. However, it was better to be safe than sorry, so he just stood up so the men could see him and called out, "I'm looking for a friend of Vin Tanner. Said his name is Blair."
The passenger side door of the truck opened and the young man wearing regular clothing slide out to the ground using a cane to balance himself. "I'm Blair," he said lifting a free hand to shade his eyes.
"Sandburg, damn it," Ellison growled and quickly stepped over until he was to the side of his truck and closer to his friend. His right hand was moving his jacket back away from his weapon.
Banks quickly looked at his detective's stance then at the other man before deciding he'd better do something fast. Pulling his badge from his belt, he held it up. "I'm Captain Simon Banks of the Cascade PD."
Jackson smiled and lifted both his hands up, showing that one was empty and the other holding an almost empty water bottle, and stepped out into the sun. "I'm Nathan Jackson, the temporary medic for the town. Vin Tanner asked me to come find his friends and they would be driving an old truck."
The tension, which had rising the moment Jackson had stood up, immediately dissipated. The driver of the SUV stepped out and walked around to the front of the vehicle to join Banks while the side door of the vehicle slide open to reveal three more men. The one nearest the door wore a uniform and had a military style rifle lying comfortably in his arms but aimed in Jackson's direction.
Nathan walked slowly forward and kept his hands visible. He could tell by looking at the others that all were either police or military, with the exception of Sandburg. "I was hoping you'd get here before it got too dark."
"Where's Tanner?" Ellison asked placing a hand under Sandburg's elbow and helping him walk over to where the rest of the men stood. He released the elbow when they stopped, but easily heard his partner mumble 'I'm stiff, Jim, not an invalid.'
Jackson eyed the younger, long-haired man, accessing his need for the cane and assistance in walking before answering, "He's at the camp." Before the others could protest, he continued, "He'd be here if I could have caught him, but the damn kid told me to come here and wait for you just before he disappeared into the trees. He's like a ghost the way he moves in and out of the brush."
"It is something we would expect him to do, Jim." Leaning forward, Blair held out a hand. "I'm Blair Sandburg, this is Jim Ellison and behind him is Henry Brown. In the SUV is Joel Taggart and J. E. Rafe, all who are from the Major Crime division and Lt. Swearington is with the SWAT unit of the Cascade PD."
Nathan shook hands with the men standing nearest and waved at the three climbing out of the vehicle. "Just seven of you? Will there be anymore showing up? The group set up outside of town is pretty big and I saw a lot of the firepower they have available."
Ellison shot a meaningful glare down at his partner, who pretended to ignore it, before answering, "The five of us from Major Crime are mainly here to get Larabee and Tanner away from the group and out of here as quietly as possible. Swearington is going to try to get a good assessment of the group, contact the local police force and coordinate with the FBI and Homeland Security when they show up in a day or two."
"What about the local support?" Banks asked.
Jackson shook his head. "Except for a couple of officers I know personally, I really don't know who might still be a part of the local force and who's working with the militia. From what I was told when I moved here, the sheriff's office is a combination of county and city deputies. I can give you names of the one or two who I can vouch for, but I'm not sure about the sheriff. The militia has taken over quite a bit of the security of the town and the surrounding area."
"How safe is it here?" Brown asked, looking around the area.
"Traffic isn't too heavy, but we're becoming more of a main route to get down to Interstate 90. A halfway station was built on the other side of town, but the group tends to stay away from it because the State Police have been known to sit there." Stepping closer so that he could look down at the map still lying on the hood of the SUV, Jackson pointed at a light gray line. "That exit a little ways back, the one that says it leads to where Telma and Plain used to be, will take you towards their camp. Where the road splits, you can see a trail cut into the ground by heavy trucks that leads to the north. There's an old abandoned Scout camp the group took over when they arrived. About a half mile from the split this direction is where this old farm house used to be before it burned down, but there's a good-sized barn still there you can use."
"Okay, then we'll head for that building. I'm guessing you can lead us around the town to avoid the security," Banks said to Jackson who nodded. "We'll hide the SUV behind this station, since I don't think the precinct would want us to use it f