“We have law. They are the first arm of law.”
Jon tightly closed his mouth and raised his eyebrows.
“Do you know something else?”
Jon shook his head. “Just gut instinct stemming from a lot of bad post-apocalypse books and movies.”
“Acknowledged. I promise to look into it, but I highly doubt it is my men.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank you for your hard work.”
Briggs shook his hand again and left. As he stepped into the sun, he saw one of his trucks pull slowly down the street. In the back were two women and a child. They had to be survivors that were picked up. The three of them were dirty, in disarray, and their faces had an unemotional glaze.
Briggs locked eyes with one woman as she passed. She looked scared. Had something happened? Was she trying to convey a message to him?
Briggs shifted his eyes to the men laughing in the cab of the truck. Such a contrast of demeanor from his men to the passengers. Immediately a sense of worry hit him. As the truck moved further away to the municipal building, Briggs shucked the worry and chalked it up to Wentworth’s words stirring his imagination.
Tigger had the coolest shoes and Chris came up with the idea after he saw the muddy footprint on the floor of the cabin.
It took a little bit of time, but Chris hoped that it would work and keep him and the others safe and in the clear for a little longer.
There was a small gravel road about fifty yards from the cabin. Chris saw that when they were running. A bigger road was farther away and was just on the other side of the lake.
That main road led to a town. That was the one they would follow, not stay on it but off to the side. But before they went there, as quickly as they could, Chris and Tigger tromped hard and fast to the gravel road. Once they hit the road, Chris lifted Tigger into his arms, backtracked as carefully as he could in his own footsteps, then midway back, when he saw the opportunity and knew he wouldn’t leave a footprint, he took the biggest jump he ever had before.
To him it was impressive, and it was far enough away from the trail of footprints he and Tigger left.
Plus, he had left a clue for Mick by leaving Tigger’s footprint in the cabin. Only Mick would know what it meant. Chris felt confident, like he was doing his best thinking.
After leaving the fake trail, they carefully walked in the brush and leaves back to the cabin, where Emmie and Jake waited. Once they were all together, they followed the wooded area around the lake until they were far enough away from the cabin where any footprints wouldn’t be seen.
Chris was proud of his idea and was certain his false set of footprints would keep the bad guys away and on the wrong trail long enough for Chris and the others to gain some distance.
8. A New Path
As soon as Rose got back to Lodi, she wasted no time in grabbing Buzz, double checking the fuel on the bikes, and taking off on the 72 mile ride to the Minuteman headquarters.
Unfortunately, their trip proved futile, because when they arrived the place was locked tight and no one was around. But there was a note on the door that simply read, ‘I’ll be back’. It wasn’t weather worn, but Rose didn’t know when that would be.
She jotted a note of her own on the same piece of paper. She left her name, member number, and a landline number for her to be reached, along with a radio frequency. She asked that they please contact her and stated that it was urgent.
Then she and Buzz returned to Lodi.
She joined Tom at the clinic to deliver the news of her futile attempt.
“I feel fucking useless,” Rose said.
“You tried,” Tom said. “It’s a wait and see.”
“How’s Dan?” Rose asked.
At that moment, Tom pointed as Lars emerged from the back.
“He’s resting peacefully,” Lars said. “Had two fractured ribs from the fall and a punctured lung. I had to insert a breathing tube, but that’s temporary and he’ll be fine. Do we know what happened in Wadsworth?”
Tom shook his head. “No.”
“Well, they must be heading east, because if they weren’t they would have been here by now.”
Rose was about to ask her own question, when Buzz burst in the door, breathing hard.
Buzz was a burly man and he had to catch his breath. “Lars, we need you in town. It’s an emergency. I’m heading to grab an ambulance from the EMT garage. Meet you there.”
Without any further explanation, Buzz flew out.
“What the hell?” Lars blurted, and raced for the door.
Tom and Rose followed.
They had to drive in order to get there quickly. The Lodi Clinic was four blocks from the town center and when they arrived they saw the commotion. Buzz was already bringing the stretcher to a blue pickup truck.
Lars rushed to the truck with Tom and Rose right on his heels. “What happened?”
The man in his thirties, holding a baby, approached Lars. “Are you Lars? That big guy said he was getting Lars.”
“I am and that child—”
“I’m Ethan. Mick sent us, and he said you can help him.” Ethan handed Baby Doe to Lars. “My mom’s been shot, too. The bleeding slowed down a lot, but she’s real weak.” He pointed to the stretcher as his mother was aided onto it by Buzz and another man. “Mick wasn’t as worried about her, but this little guy, he’s dehydrated, starving. We’ve been trying to give him fluids. He’s better than he was, trust me, but he’s still lethargic, if you can call it that in a baby.”
“Whoa.” Lars stared down to the baby. “You just rattled off a whole list. Mick? Our Mick?”
“Yes. He said to find you and tell you what happened.”
“I have to get this baby and your mother to the clinic, these two will get you there and I’ll talk to you then,” Lars said.
“Thank you, sir.”
Lars stepped away holding the child, and Tom moved forward.
“What happened?” he asked Ethan.
Rose added, “Mick sent you here?”
“Yes and yes. I didn’t think I’d make it.” His eyes shifted back and forth between Rose and Tom. “I had a camp. Six adults, eight kids. Mick and I went to a neighboring town to see if there were any children left behind and my camp was hit and raided. My mom was shot, and at least two others were killed.”
Rose’s hand shot to her mouth. “Where’s Mick?”
“He stayed back. He had to.” Ethan hesitated. “His sons are missing.”
Mick located the small fishing cabin with relative ease. While the thicker foliage on the ground made footsteps nearly impossible to follow, the smell of the lake and sight of the cabin was welcoming.
He hoped with all his heart that the boys were in that cabin. As he approached he saw the footprints in the mud outside the door.
“Chris! Tigger!” Mick yelled and opened the door.
It wasn’t locked and Mick’s head dropped when he stepped inside and saw the cabin was empty.
He checked the cupboards and there was still food there. The boys didn’t take anything, why not? The single cot didn’t have bedding, but the pillow was covered in a case. That struck him as odd.
Just as he was about the leave the cabin, go back out and look for tracks, he spotted the single Dynamite footprint on the floor.
Not only that, but near it were two things. A snap snack, the tiny little crackers that Mick had placed in the bug out bag, and Chris had dropped his lucky double headed quarter. He loved it; it was a prank he had gotten out of a machine. He had used it so much, that everyone grew tired of it. “Ha, ha, ha, Chris we get it.”
The thought of Chris and that coin made Mick smile. The boys had been there, they had thought enough to grab the bug out bag, there weren’t any signs of blood, so they had to be fine.