Page 32 of Beacon

“Yeah. Yeah, of course I am.” He glances over at the window, shaking off the intensity of the conversation with a shrugging gesture. “I guess it’s about time to get up.”

I packed most of my stuff last night, so it doesn’t take long for us to dress, eat a quick breakfast, and get ready to leave. In the cargo compartment of the quad are a few things Chloe asked me to bring back if I could—a photo album, a few books, her grandpa’s pipe, and a small crocheted blanket. We add my own stuff, barely squeezing it in, and then take our seats.

Neither one of us is talking very much. There’s not much left to say.

We drive along the trail in the forest without incident. We only encounter one lonely hiker, and he steps off into the trees to get out of our way. It’s barely a couple of hours when we’re clearing the woods and coming out at the old parking lot where I left Cal and Rachel a week ago.

They’re not there now, of course. We need to get across the border region and reach the farming community before we’ll really be safe.

I’ve got my pistol out of the holster and ready as Mack picks up his speed—not simply because we can go faster out of the forest but because the slower we go, the more danger we’re in.

Maybe because it’s not even midmorning yet, but there aren’t as many people out and about as there were when Cal, Rachel, and I came through last week. We run across one group of guys on foot who immediately start shooting at us. I shoot back, but Mack has us out of range before either side can hit anything. And a couple of miles later, there’s an old restaurant building with some guards posted. Mack changes direction to give it a wide berth, and no one attempts to come after us.

Otherwise, we have a clear path through the border and into the rolling hills and pastures that separate The Wild from the farms.

“That seemed too easy,” I say against his ear when I’mfinally able to relax a little. “Way easier than when I came through with Cal and Rachel a week ago.”

“Yeah. Kind of weird. What’s everyone doing today?”

I don’t have an answer to that, but it worries me. I keep alert as we continue, scanning our surroundings for any hint of danger.

There’s nothing—not until we’re getting closer to our destination. I hear gunshots before I see anything.

“Over that hill,” Mack murmurs, gesturing in front of us and toward the right. “Something’s happening over there.”

He slows down to almost a stop and searches the horizon in front of us. He’s breathing heavily. That and the distant sound of gunfire are the only things I can hear.

Finally Mack says, “Looks like there are some trees over that way that could give us protection. I’m not taking you into whatever that is until we know what’s going on.”

“That makes sense. Let’s get into the trees and then maybe we can check things out before anyone sees us.”

He steers us toward the right, angling so we’re backtracking slightly—no doubt so that we have plenty of space to get a view on the situation before we’re spotted. When we make it to the wooded area, we have to slow down because there’s not an established trail. We drive at basically a crawl as Mack maneuvers us around large trees, over thick roots, and through overgrown foliage until the sounds of the firing guns get louder.

It’s only because we’re at the top of a hill that slopesdown into a wide valley that we can get our eyes on the situation. It’s definitely a gunfight. It looks like one group used these same trees to attack another group who was making camp in the valley near the collapsed remains of an old complex of self-storage units.

The attackers are definitely part of the border gangs. The nature of their appearance, their weaponry, and their position make it clear. They’re far out of their territory, and it’s unclear why they’ve launched the attack.

I can’t get any real sense of the group on defense because they’re using the buildings for cover, except a couple of campfires are still burning, so it looks like they were taken by surprise.

“Are those folks from the farms?” Mack asks, squinting as he peers past a few tree branches to see down the slope. We’re right where the trees are breaking, so we’re almost exposed but not quite.

“I can’t tell. Surely not. They wouldn’t be camping out like that. It almost looks like—” I break off my words when I see a figure dash out from behind the storage unit and drag back another person who’s been wounded and is lying on the ground. The woman who is pulling the other woman back has distinctive silver-white hair that stands out even from this distance. “That’s Rose! Mack, that’s Rose! This must be Maria and her crew. What the hell are they doing all the way out this way?”

“You sure?” He’s peering down trying to identify people like I am.

“Yes. I’m positive.” I’ve started dismounting from the ATV. “Look, they’re beginning the Triangle B formation. They only do that when things are bad. They need help. I’ve got to?—”

Mack grabs for the back of my shirt before I can step out from the trees. “No fucking way, Anna. You’re not heading down there with no plan and no protection.”

“But those bad guys have the high ground. Maria and them need help, and I don’t want you to have to—” I twist my face to control what feels like tears behind my eyes. I’m nearly torn in half between Mack’s indignant, protective stance and the women down in that valley, who for a long time were my team, my family.

“You think I’d ever hide up here in the trees while you run down there to get shot? No matter what? Get your ass back on here and let me think for a few seconds.”

I do as he says because his tone is confident as well as grouchy. Whatever we do will certainly be safer on this vehicle than on foot.

He scans the valley again. “Okay. We’re aiming for that abandoned truck. We’ll use it for cover. We’ll be coming from behind them, so we’ll have brief advantage. We might be able to distract them enough for Maria and the others to get stabilized and claim a stronger position.”

I nod, rubbing my face and stiffening my spine in preparation. “Are you sure, Mack? I don’t want you to have to?—”

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