Ever Hayes - Emergency Exit

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.

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.

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.