Jeff Hirsch - The Darkest Path

“Wolf Three, this is Den. Confirm contact. Over.”

“I know what to say,” I said. “Cut me loose and I’ll talk to them.”

The girl looked down at me, uncertain.

“If someone doesn’t answer, they’re coming here in force and we’re all dead.”

She glanced to the boy with the rifle and he took the radio off the soldier’s belt and held it up to my mouth.

“Cut me loose or I say nothing.”

The girl’s glare didn’t waver and neither did mine.

“Wolf Three, this is Den. We are in motion. Over.”

There was the distant sound of engines coming to life down the line, and the girl nodded at one of her friends, who disappeared behind me. When the zip tie binding my hands popped, I grabbed for the radio, but her friend held it back.

“Say the wrong thing,” the girl said as she leveled her shotgun at Bear’s head. “And you watch the dog go down before you do.”

I snatched the radio away from him. “Den, this is Wolf Three,” I said, deepening my voice and hoping the connection was bad enough to make it indistinguishable from their comrade’s. “I am alpha charlie. Repeat. Alpha charlie. Came across a stray dog, but the mutt ran off. All is on Path now. No need for assistance. Over.”

There was a deadly pause when we all held our breath. The engine-revving sound stopped.

“Wolf Three, this is Den. Understood.”

I dropped the radio in the dirt and fell to my hands and knees, panting, my heart thrumming in my ears.

“Okay, people,” the girl with the shotgun said. “The plan hasn’t changed. Take him and the dog and move.”

“You don’t need me,” I said. “I called them off. Let me—”

The shotgun rose to my forehead. “You go where I say you go. Now call the dog to you and move.”

Bear and I were pushed deeper into the Path side of the border until we came to a trench that had been dug into the sand. We dropped behind it. Bear stayed close to me, the tension in the air having cured his natural friendliness.

“Carlos,” the girl in charge said. The boy named Carlos slung his weapon and disappeared into the night.

None of them were in uniform, just ragged-looking hiking gear and scavenged weapons. The girl was an inch or so taller than me, with a square jaw and arms that were covered in rangy cords of muscle.

“Look,” I said. “Whatever you’re doing, you don’t need me to—”

“I don’t know you,” the girl said. “So if you think I’m going to let you and your mutt wander around in the middle of my operation, you’re crazy. If you’re good, we let you go when we’re done. It’s either that or you take a short walk out into the desert with Hector here.”

Hector was tall with a shaved head and massive shoulders. He stood behind her, grinning, one hand balanced on a hunting knife that hung from his belt. I let my head fall against the berm behind me, cursing under my breath. The girl reached her hand back and one of the boys handed her a pair of binoculars. She lifted them and looked out toward the road.

“Hitting the checkpoint is useless,” I said. “They’ll just have a new crew here by the morning.”

The girl said nothing, continuing her scan. I turned onto my stomach and looked over the berm. The lights of the checkpoint were about a mile to our east. The road cut across the desert right in front of us.

“Something else is coming, isn’t it?”

Her eyes flicked over to me and I knew I was right.

“A supply truck?”

“Look, just keep quiet, and when we’re done you’re free to go, okay?”

I scanned the landscape again, counting off soldiers and vehicles. A plan started to form. “That promise isn’t going to do me much good when you’re all dead.”

She dropped the binoculars to glare at me. “You remember that short walk I mentioned?”

I scooted closer to her through the dirt. “I’m guessing from the way you’re set up, you figure on sending these guys to flanking positions on either side of the checkpoint and then hitting them all at once when the supply truck is stopped. With that plan, you’ll last about two minutes.”

“We have the element of surprise.”

“Which is what will buy you the two minutes. I’ve been living with a Path special forces unit for six years. Trust me. You can’t take them all on at once; that’s what they expect you to do.”

Carlos reappeared and crouched on the other side of her. “Target’s five miles out, Nat.”

Nat nodded and he melted into the dark. She examined the terrain a moment, gnawing on her bottom lip, and then turned to me.

“And so what don’t they expect?”

I locked eyes with her. “If I help, you take me with you back to Fed territory and then help me get transport east.”

“You’re not in a great position to make a deal.”

“Fine, stick to your plan. I’ll wait here while you all get killed.”

“Nat,” Carlos said. “Time to move.”

Nat’s eyes narrowed on me, sharp as spikes. “Deal. Now tell me your idea.”

Nat listened, and once I was done, she waved everyone in. The three heavily armed boys gathered around her.

“We all know how important this is,” she said, speaking slow and calm and looking her men in the eye just like I had seen Path commanders do before an operation. “Our friends are counting on us, but we gotta remember that this isn’t hero time. This is working-together-and-doing-our-job time.”

Each boy nodded solemnly.

“Now,” she continued, glancing over at me. “We’ve got a little change in plan….”

Minutes later I was kneeling in the middle of the highway with Bear at my side and Nat’s prone body lying in front of us. I had pulled Wade’s truck nose down in a ditch around the bend in the highway, out of sight of the checkpoint. We were lit in the yellow blinking hazard lights.

“You ready?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Nat said. “I’m suddenly wishing I had taken drama class instead of metal shop. You sure this is going to work?”

I shrugged. “They say no plan—”

“— survives contact with the enemy. Yeah, I’ve heard that one too.”

Nat peered down the road, then tucked a length of hair behind her ear.

“So you were really living with Path special forces? And now you’re a runner?”

“Name’s Cal,” I said. “The dog’s Bear.”

“You named your dog Bear?”

“Yeah, he—”

Two lights appeared in the western dark. Nat sucked in a breath and held it. I leaned over her, my hands on her arms, my face close to hers. Her eyes were closed. Bear whined and I rubbed his head to calm him down.

The supply truck strained up a hill and then its lights were filling the roadway around us. I had the sick feeling of being a spider in a web. Part of me hoped they’d swerve around us and keep going.

“Almost here,” I whispered in Nat’s ear.

“Showtime.”

The truck was a three-axled monster with a boxy cab. There were two shadowy forms inside. There was no going back now, so all I could do was hope there wasn’t extra security hiding in the rear of the truck. When it was less than fifty feet out, I jumped up and started waving my arms over my head. Bear ran to my side, keeping up a steady stream of barking.

The truck didn’t slow. Thirty feet. Then twenty. What if they had been told to not stop for any reason? My heart pulsed, but then their air brakes squealed and they came to a halt just a few feet ahead of us. Engine rumbling. Headlights beating down at us. There was a pause and then the doors opened and boots hit the ground. Nat was right. It was showtime.

“Thank God!” I exclaimed. “Thank God you stopped. Please help us. I don’t know what’s wrong with her!”