Jeff Hirsch - The Darkest Path

The closest soldier reached for Nat, just as she scooped up a handful of gravel and tossed it in his eyes. When his hands went up, Nat was on him, throwing her bound hands over his head and pulling him back. He gagged as his Adam’s apple was trapped beneath the cuff’s short metal chain. The second soldier moved forward with his weapon up, but Nat dropped low behind her captive, fouling his shot.

“I will wring his neck right here!” she screamed as the man choked. “I swear, you people will not—”

I jammed the taser into the small of her back and hit the trigger. There was the snap of electricity and Nat convulsed, making an awful retching sound as she hit the ground. I dropped to my knees and pulled her hands from around the soldier’s throat. The second soldier was completely frozen, staring down at me over his rifle.

“Give me a hand!” I bellowed. “She got the brunt of it, but he’s out too. Let’s go!”

We got Nat up and started dragging her back to the checkpoint.

“Throw her in the back of Two,” the sergeant said, pointing us to a driverless Humvvee with a gunner standing up in the turret. “And you, the next time you end up with a prisoner, you cuff their hands behind their back, not in front. Now move it.”

“Yes, sir!”

We brought Nat to one of the Humvees and threw her into a heap at the turret gunner’s feet. When the soldier went to rejoin his team, I followed Nat inside and slammed the door.

“Hey,” the gunner called. “What’s going on down—”

I shoved the taser into this side. There was a flash of blue and he dropped into the rear of the Humvee, unconscious. I grabbed Nat and pulled her up.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” she said, groggy but shaking it off.

It didn’t take them long to notice something was wrong. By the time I got to the driver’s seat, machine gun bursts lit up all around us, pinging off the Humvee’s armor. Nat kicked the gunner out of the Humvee and took his place. A second later the .50 cal was sweeping the area, sending the Path scattering. The thunder of the thing was unreal, punishing.

“Cal!” Nat screamed between bursts. “To the right!”

I looked out the side window. The other gunner was rotating our way. I fumbled at the Humvees’s controls before getting it into reverse and jamming my foot on the gas. We escaped a volley of fire but crashed into the gate behind us. Nat’s next shot sent the gunner ducking back into his rig. After that she shredded the other Humvee’s engine.

I tried to get us moving forward, but there was a metallic grinding sound behind us. We were hung up on the steel fence. Sitting ducks. I gritted my teeth and stood on the gas, but the wheels just spun. Gunfire was erupting all around us now.

Nat turned toward her father’s cruiser, sending a stream of fire into its back end until the car exploded with a lung-battering woomf . The Path soldiers fled from the column of flames. Black smoke fouled the air.

“Helicopters are coming in!” Nat cried from behind me.

I gave up trying to go forward and put the Humvee in reverse, crashing through the gate. Once we were through, I got us turned around and we sped toward the runway. We had given Nat’s dad a chance; all I could hope was that he’d made use of it. We had our own problems to deal with.

Two Black Hawk helicopters had started their descent into the airport’s floodlights. Nat opened up with her gun, and the Black Hawks’ engines surged as their pilots aborted. Our reprieve wouldn’t last long, though. They’d find somewhere safer to land and offload their crew of Marines.

The airfield came into view. It was small, just a control tower and two runways filled with a few helicopters and private planes.

There was a blast behind us and I turned to see a fleet of civvy vehicles and police cruisers coming through the wreckage of the burning blockade. Mixed in with them was the last of the Path Humvees with a civilian up in the turret. The school bus was bringing up the rear. They made it. I pulled our Humvee to a stop at the edge of the runway. Seconds later, their vehicles were swarming around us.

Nat’s dad jumped out of the lead car and ran toward us, Bear close at his heels. “Natalie!”

Nat dropped down out of the turret just as he ran up. “Dad, wait! I had to—”

Her father’s knees went weak as he threw his arms around her, nearly dragging them down. Nat stiffened at first but then fell into it, clasping her arms around his back and pressing her cheek into his chest.

“I can’t believe you did that,” he said, his voice thick. “I can’t believe you just did that. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

“So help me God, girl, you are getting in that helicopter this second and getting the hell out of here. You got me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay, both of you, go!” he said, running off to organize the teams that were prepping the aircraft. “I’ve got work to do.”

Bear’s paws hit my calf and I grabbed him up into my arms. I didn’t realize until then how much I was shaking. I held him close, taking a second to breathe in the grassy smell of him.

“Okay, pal,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.”

The three of us ran across the tarmac to a waiting helicopter that had CHANNEL 9 TRAFFIC TEAM emblazoned on the side. The pilot was doing his preflight as we piled into the rear seats, Bear dancing at our feet.

“Never had a dog in here,” the pilot said. “Better get strapped in and hold on to him. Word is I’m taking off as soon as this bird is ready.”

“What happened to the injured?” Nat called up to him. “The ones at the school?”

“Don’t know,” the pilot said, shouting over the blades that had just begun to turn. “Plan was to load everyone that could be moved onto trucks and head east but it’s pretty chaotic down there. Now strap in and put on the headsets if you want to talk.”

Nat put on the headset and drew her harness over her shoulders. When she was done, she stared out the side window, her hands in a tense fidget in her lap. I pulled my headset down and adjusted the mic in front of my mouth.

“He’s okay,” I said. “They got Steve out and he’s going to be okay.”

Nat said nothing. There was a roar of engines as the first plane took off, with three more queued up behind it. Across the tarmac, another helicopter took to the air. I prayed the Path would see them for what they were, civilian evacuees, and let them go.

When the last plane took off, Nat’s father pulled in his perimeter force and stood on the tarmac, directing them to waiting choppers. Already I could see Black Hawks touching down at distant corners of the airport. Black-uniformed soldiers poured out of their sides and started toward us.

“Okay!” our pilot called. “I think the welcome wagon is here. Time to go.”

“What about my dad?”

“It’s okay — he’s with Billy.”

The pilot pointed to where a deputy was forcing Nat’s father into another chopper across from us. Their doors slammed and their blades started to turn.

The helicopter’s engine revved and I felt us lift into the air. Bear whined and I pulled him underneath my harness. The other choppers made it off the ground, and soon we were all up over the dark tree line. For a disorienting moment I thought an early dawn was creeping over the horizon, but as we climbed higher, it became clear that it was the town of Waylon burning out of control.

“Oh my God…” Nat breathed.

The pilot flew us in an arc north of the town to avoid the windblown clouds of smoke from burning trees. Inside Waylon the streets were black seams, marking the boundaries between grids of burning buildings. Hundreds of vehicles were lined up on the roadways out of town, but they stopped dead a few miles out. The Path had already set up checkpoints. Right now those unlucky enough to be stopped were being taken from their cars and massed into orderly groups for the beacons. I looked for signs that the Fed Army had arrived but found nothing. The town had been left to die.