2020: Emergency Exit Read online

  Teddy Roosevelt was credited with coining “bully pulpit” in reference to the White House and the president’s powers to advocate his agenda. Here, surrounded on all sides by Theodore Roosevelt National Park, we pulled into the Medora town square to give our own speech. We had spent almost an hour driving around to area homes and farms trying to convince local residents to come to the center of town, to hear out our formal warning. Those efforts had minimal success and carved into the valuable lead we had on our pursuers.

  Around 9 a.m., Danny and I used our own bully pulpit to try to convince the hundred or so citizens who showed up to leave town—head north, south, somewhere, anywhere, anything but stay here. The collective resistance astonished us. We were actually booed and insulted. Several citizens told us they’d heard this already from a few other visitors and no enemy force had come yet. We lost half the small crowd before we had even finished speaking. No matter what we said a majority of them didn’t seem to believe us. Frustrated by the ignorance, I urged everyone there to pick up their phone and call anyone they knew who lived anywhere else in the country. I saw very few people even try. Unbelievable! One extra vocal opponent to our advice yelled out that, “he wasn’t afraid of no terrorists. If they really wanted him, they could come get him.” Oh, they’re coming, you idiot.

  The entire population of a ten-mile radius around Medora was barely three hundred strong, and less than a quarter of them took our advice, most of those heading north for Canada. The majority of residents decided they’d stay put and face whatever was coming. Two words: Imminent death. One rancher’s thirty-five-year-old daughter, Tara, and her eleven-year-old daughter, Emily, were in town visiting from Rapid City. When the rancher heard our story he believed it entirely and led his daughter and granddaughter directly to Danny and me. He pleaded with us to take the two of them along, even though he intended to stay put. “My wife has stage 4 breast cancer. She doesn’t have much time left. She can’t travel and I can’t leave her.” He said. We respectfully didn’t argue with him.

  Danny, Dad and I had discussed what we’d do if other survivors along the way wanted to join us. We initially had no opposition to the idea, but our selflessness had almost fatally backfired with Wooly. Now, we were more than a little leery of taking similar chances. For some reason though, I wasn’t opposed to these two joining us. Okay, so it was an obvious reason. The rancher’s daughter was a visual knockout. I caught Hayley’s amused stare and ignored it. She seemed to have read my mind. Or followed my eyes. I could tell Danny didn’t like the idea of increasing our group numbers, especially with a child involved. But, I whispered in his ear, “We told these people they should go with us. We can make room for a couple, right?”

  He looked at me like I was crazy, clearly not as distracted by Tara’s beauty as I was. But he must not have felt like objecting in front of the rancher. He shrugged “Whatever Dad. Your call.”

  I turned to the farmer. “We’ll take them.” I said with a smile and false sense of confidence.

  He thanked us repeatedly and we began to make our exit.

  We filled up with gas at the west end of town. So far we’d been fortunate the fuel switches and pumps at most stations still worked off generator power. We’d had to leave our own generators back in the bunker, but Tara’s dad gave us a brand new one to take along. All we had to do at each stop was go into the station supply rooms and flip the switch. If they didn’t have a generator, we plugged ours in.

  Had there been more cars on the road, we’d have been in a mass competition over dwindling fuel supplies. As it was, with only a few of us traveling, gas was plentiful. So far.

  As we were about to leave the station a truck pulled up with two men in it. They introduced themselves as Blake and Nathan. They’d been packing to leave before we even arrived in Medora. An earlier visitor had convinced them to leave. Blake had been on a final supply run and happened by the town center. He’d seen the crowd gathered and stopped to hear us speak, before rushing home to grab the rest of his gear. He’d picked up Nathan on the way here. As Rapid City transplants, they figured they could help us get through the back roads to their former home turf, if we’d let them tag along. We had an atlas, but their local knowledge could definitely pay off. We agreed and followed the two locals north into Teddy Roosevelt’s old stomping grounds to a series of caves off the beaten path. We’d be safe there for today, but it was hard to leave those two hundred plus people behind, knowing pretty soon they’d probably all be dead.

  From our secure hideout we heard the drones fly over around noon. The distant explosions echoed through the maze of canyons to our position. There was likely little left of Medora now. Tara was trying to be strong for her daughter, but the personal loss was evident on her face. She understood what those bombs meant for her parents. We all did. And even if anyone managed to survive the aerial assault, Captain Eddie and his troops likely weren’t far behind.

  EIGHTEEN: (Eddie) “Catching Up”

  It was all Eddie could do to not scream, but he had to keep his composure in front of his troops. As the roof of the bunker imploded, a rush of water exploded from the resulting crater. Debris scattered, and the ground caved in all the way down to the lake. There was no way to get the water back out, no way to get in and see what had been below the surface of the cabin. It had become part of the lake. Clearly there had been a window or door leading to the water, and the explosion had ripped it open. Some of the debris was sucked out into the lake, but the rest spilled out of the cabin foundation. He ordered his men to collect what they could, and they began to sort through it.

  A soldier brought Eddie a large bag. It was evidently waterproof as its contents—a tent, sleeping bag, two guns, some food, and a folder of maps—were dry. Interesting. He carried the folder and the guns back to his truck and went through every map. There were maps of Minnesota, North and South Dakota, Wyoming, Colorado, Arizona, Mexico, Hawaii and one national map with a straight line drawn across it from Minnesota to Hawaii. This answered the question about the trucks and where their passengers had been. They had started from northern Minnesota. They had indeed been in this bunker. But now where were they, and how had they escaped?

  He got that answer a few minutes later when his men brought him several small diving suits. There had been a door to the lake after all, which also explained the waterproof bag. These clever Americans had escaped right under their feet last night. A wry smile crossed his lips. Impressive. This was more like hunting a lion than a boar. Boars were stupid. Nasty, but stupid. These people, whoever they were, were clearly far from stupid. They were now his lions, and Eddie had killed every lion he’d ever tracked.

  He was impressed with the ingenuity they’d displayed so far. Eddie had little doubt now he’d been pursuing these same people for a while. In Fargo the company leaders had been directed to collect the license and weapon registry from every hunting store they ransacked. American firearm laws mandated that every stocked and sold gun have an independent serial number that could be traced. Law enforcement used the numbers for solving crimes. Qi Jia could use those registries to compile a list of addresses on potential resistance groups and facilitate the tracking of any armed survivors.

  Eddie put the registry to his own personal use. He had the serial numbers on the guns checked against the store in Grand Forks, already confident they would match. These were indeed the same people that had killed Markus. They’d had the upper hand on him twice now, and he was determined it not happen again. The maps gave him an idea of where they were heading: through South Dakota and toward Colorado. They were taking it one state at a time, but their final destination was clear. He knew it was against his orders to cross into another state, but no one would miss him and his seventy-three men. Besides, they’d already deviated from their assigned route. Many more soldiers would cover where he had originally intended to go. His current destiny, he knew, was to track these Americans down and kill them, wherever it took him. For Markus, and to make sure they
never made it to Hawaii. “Men,” he yelled. “Let’s go.”

  He figured they had a five to six hour lead on him at best, and if they’d left before two or three in the morning, they’d have been well ahead of the drones heading west after dawn. They could make it all the way to Montana, but there was no map of Montana, so they probably weren’t going there. In all likelihood, they had gone as far west as they could, as fast as they could—he dragged his finger across the interstate on the map—and then began to head south—his finger indicated Rapid City. But they would hide during the day, or the drones would easily find them, and it seemed they were aware of that. It was his job now to determine the general area in which they were hiding—his finger tapped the portion of Theodore Roosevelt National Park south of Medora—and make sure he was watching for them when night fell. “Lions,” he mumbled, waving off the questioning look from his driver. “Dead lions.” Eddie smiled.

  NINETEEN: (Ryan) “Like Minds”

  Danny was pacing back and forth in the cave. I heard him tell Wes, “He’s still coming.” And I figured he meant the captain. When Wes didn’t disagree the idea became a bigger part of my own thoughts. Maybe Danny was giving him too much credit. Or maybe he wasn’t. Danny mentioned he felt like someone was aware of our every move, comparing it to the Wicked Witch of the West watching Dorothy through her magic ball. To Danny, our path seemed too predictable, our footsteps too visible, not unlike a blood trail to a predator. I was trying to be more optimistic, declaring my belief that we’d seen the last of the giant captain. But I knew he wasn’t going to like that we’d escaped last night. If this hadn’t already been personal, he was probably going to take that move personally. He could still be coming after us.

  The four new people in our group wasted no time in making themselves useful. The two men, Nathan and Blake, helped pile and scatter sand at the front of our cave so it was nearly impossible to perceive an entrance there. Our tire tracks had been further hidden by windblown sand. This was as good a hiding spot as we could find right now, covered overhead by three stories of cold dirt and stone. No drone would pick up our heat signal through that. The girl, Emily, stayed close to her mother. She seemed scared. Thank you, Captain Obvious. Hayley kept checking on her, and I could tell they’d developed a friendly bond. The mother, well, I couldn’t take my eyes off Tara, and she didn’t seem to dislike the attention. I tried to make casual conversation, but my heart was pounding in my throat, and I likely came across as quite the fool.

  “How did you get here?” I asked.

  “Here, here? As in the cave? Or…?” she replied with a faint smile.

  I’m such an idiot. Even I had no idea what I meant. She sounded as beautiful as she looked. That only flustered me more. “Uhh…” I faked being summoned and excused myself to go “help someone with something,” but my mind—and eyes—kept going back to her. Unfortunately, she intercepted many of my stolen glances at her, and the anatomical direction of some of those quick peeks was rather embarrassing.

  I moved over by the cave entrance and gazed out a small hole into the bright afternoon sky. Why couldn’t Tara have been ugly? That would have been so much easier. In fact, we probably would have just left her in Medora then. But no, I had to go and insist we bring them. That beautiful long brown hair hanging in braids beside her tanned face…the cowgirl attire with the low-cut white tank, unbuttoned plaid shirt and skintight jeans. Those muscular arms and well-defined curves. Couldn’t she at least have left more to the imagination? Instead I was imagining her in even less, and experiencing sensations I hadn’t felt in years. My eyes could get me in trouble with her. I slumped down to the floor and leaned my head against the wall.

  Hayley sat down next to me, leaning her head on my shoulder. “You look stressed.”

  I laughed. Then I sighed. “Yeah.”

  Tara was standing by Emily with her back turned to us. She bent over to hand her daughter something, and as I watched her do so I was aware of Hayley’s eyes watching mine. Talk about embarrassing. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Hayley whispered.

  Stunning. “But married,” I said, tapping my own ring, still embarrassed I’d been so obvious.

  “Maybe.” She traced a circle in the dirt with her finger. “Or maybe not. You do still wear yours.”

  Touché. I looked down at my ring and regretted the depth of my sudden feelings for Tara. Sophie. Dang it. Sorry, Sophie.

  “Mom wouldn’t care, Dad,” Hayley added.

  How did she…? “You don’t know that,” I replied with a little too much edge.

  “Hayley, will you play cards with me?” Emily asked, interrupting our conversation.

  “You bet, Em.” Hayley stood up and walked away, but not before looking back at me and saying, “Yes, I do, Dad.”

  Dang it. The girl could read me like a book. I lay back on the floor and closed my eyes. God and I hadn’t been that close in awhile, but I managed to piece together a little prayer in my mind. It was a jumbled collection of thoughts, and I fell asleep mid process, but I knew if God did exist (and if He was listening) He knew what I was thinking and what I was feeling. If Sophie was there with him, she knew how much I missed her and that I’d give anything to have her back. I had to stay away from Tara. Yeah, right. Good luck with that!

  As I drifted off to sleep, I didn’t feel Tara cover me with a blanket, and I missed Hayley’s pursuant smile. The intended “quick nap” turned into a few hours, though when I awoke I felt as if I’d barely slept. Stress sure could take a lot out of you. I got up and made sure Danny slept a couple hours too. He was on high alert, and didn’t want to miss anything, but we were as safe as we were going to get for a while. He needed to take advantage of that fact and rest a little now.

  We woke Danny and Cameron up around five o’clock, about an hour and a half from darkness. It was the girls’ turn to nap for a while. The rest of us needed to prepare for our next move.

  --------------------

  Captain Eddie and his seventy-three men arrived in Medora around four in the afternoon. The drones had been here hours before and bombed the town repeatedly. Apparently, these people had been too far from the nearest airstrips and had managed to evade the original chemical bombs. A few farmers had avoided the drone bombings and other Qi Jia patrols found them heading north towards the Canadian border. Before execution, a couple of them had spoken of some people who had passed through and urged the town to flee for Canada or Hawaii.

  The confessing prisoners had been killed before Eddie could interrogate them, but based on the descriptions they’d given, he had little doubt his “lions” had not only passed through here, but were probably the people they spoke of. Perfect. They had left shortly after 9 a.m. but likely hadn’t gone far, probably no more than an hour or so, and most likely south. Now that he knew there were only about a dozen of them, he knew he had more than enough men to handle the task.

  Eddie divided his men into three squads, each covering one of the main roads south from Medora towards Rapid City. If they didn’t come down those roads, they’d have to travel one of the smaller roads between them, and there was no way they’d get by the THIRST systems doing that. The trap was set. It was time for the hunt to end. Captain Eddie, his brother Lazzo, and twenty other men set up camp on the middle route. And they waited.

  TWENTY: “Check”

  Chess is a primitive game. A few pieces, with specifically designated moves, face off against their likenesses on the other side, and after typically a great length of time, the battle concludes with one of two possible outcomes: checkmate or stalemate. Checkmate, in this situation, meant death for us. As pawns in this grand scheme, our options were limited, and we knew we were being circled and even somewhat manipulated by the rooks, knights, bishops and a particularly evil queen. The queen, Captain Eddie in this scenario, could come out of nowhere and take us with far more aggressive and effective strategies than the only move we could make as a pawn. There was no going back as a pawn—if we got caught
in the open, we were done for. The advantage was to every other piece in the game. It sucked being a pawn.

  No one understood our limitations and potential risks better than Danny. When he called Dad and Wes over and started his first question with, “If this were a chess match,” it was clear he was trying to put us several moves ahead. We listened to his reasoning. “Okay. We have to assume the captain found the bag. And, as a result, we have to assume he also has the maps. My guess is he’s pretty pissed he let us get away, and if he managed to connect the dots with the rifles and linked those to our vehicles, he’s probably made several other connections as well. We have no choice but to imagine we’ve made this into some kind of personal battle of wits with him. Like chess. We have to imagine he’s sitting outside our cave right now, waiting for us to come out to him. We can’t afford to assume for even a second that he’s not.” He allowed that ominous thought time to sink in.

  “The problem is…we have to come out. We can’t stay here. More and more troops are probably on the way, and we don’t have nearly enough supplies to last us for more than a couple days. We need water. We need food. And we need to keep moving, or we’ll soon have no other moves.”

  No one said anything. We just nodded. “Grandpa, you and Wes were checking out the maps,” Danny continued. “How many routes south to Rapid City are there?”

  “From here to Highway 12…” Wes replied, pointing at the map in our remaining atlas. “There are three solid routes south in North Dakota and another if we crossed into Montana and went south on 7. That’s going to be the most wide-open one, but could therefore also be the riskiest. All the roads connect at Belle Fourche. If I were this captain, I’d be waiting for us there.” He put his finger firmly on the map. “In Belle Fourche.”