G Hopf - Sanctuary

“How do you know me?”

“My mother told me to be polite. Isn’t that funny coming from a woman who was the rudest bitch you’d ever meet,” she laughed. “Gordon Van Zandt, I’m Lexi Tolanus. Nice to meet you.”

Gordon woke for the second day in a row with a pounding headache, but this time it was the result of a hangover. He had spent most of the evening talking and drinking with Lexi. While Gordon’s first impression of Lexi was that she was rude, by the end of the evening he found her sincere and likeable. They shared their stories of the road, a few laughs, but most of the time their conversation was serious. Her sister had been executed at the hands of Rahab, in the same cruel way that Hunter was. She too was on the hunt for Rahab to avenge her sister’s murder.

In another twist of fate that struck him as spookily ironic, Lexi connected that she had met Samantha and Haley after she had left Rahab’s camp. She told him about the day Hunter was brought back, and how Samantha broke down. That was very difficult to hear. She also divulged details about their group—how many were left, the arrival of Nelson’s ex-fiancée, the tensions that existed. So much had happened to his group after he had been taken prisoner. By the end of the evening, his head was swimming with all of the new information.

Gordon heard someone snoring in the corner. He stood and walked over to discover one of the Marines. John, the owner of the bar, had allowed them to stay in exchange for a case of MREs—a not-so-cheap price in this modern world.

Gordon shook the Marine. “Hey, wake up, devil dog, reveille.”

The Marine corporal opened his eyes and said, “Shit, what time is it?”

“I have no idea, but let’s get some chow, talk some more with Lexi, and head out. We have a long day ahead of us.”

During the previous night’s discussion, he and Lexi shared with each other what they knew about Rahab’s possible location. John knew Rajneeshpuram referred to an old religious compound used in the 1980s, which helped to add context to the location. The map that Gordon had discovered at Rahab’s compound in California also proved helpful. With those facts, along with Lexi’s memory of overheard conversations, they pinpointed Rahab’s probable location: a small farm in north central Oregon, approximately 140 miles away.

Both he and Lexi joked how they were going to be the one to deal the final blow to Rahab. In some ways, their jest was serious. They were collaborating, but there was definitely a sense of competition between the two.

Gordon walked back to the men’s bathroom. When he opened it he found Lexi brushing her teeth.

She cocked her head and mumbled, “Mornin’, sunshine.”

She spit and said, “If all you have to do is piss, go ahead, you don’t have anything I’ve not seen before. By the way, you look how I feel. Like shit.”

“Uh, I’ll just wait till you’re done,” Gordon said, closing the door.

“Your choice,” she said as she began to brush her teeth again.

After relieving himself outside he came back into the bar to find Lexi laughing with Jones.

“Where’s Corporal Rubio?” Gordon asked Jones.

“He went to give McCamey a break on keeping guard,” Jones answered.

“Want some chow?” John asked from behind the bar. He held up a spatula. “I have some fresh eggs and some cans of corned beef hash.”

“Hell yeah!” Lexi chimed.

“Consider this a going-away present for you, little lady, but you guys… got any ammo you can spare?” John said, now pointing at Gordon and Jones.

“Really? You’re going to charge us?” Gordon asked.

“There ain’t handouts in this world!” Lexi laughed.

“Sorry, guys, that’s the price for some fresh eggs. Did I mention they’re organic, California boy?” John teased.

“Oh, come on, really?!” Gordon asked. “We can’t spare any ammo.”

Jones shot a look toward Gordon. “How much do you want, John?”

“A box of 9-millimeters gets you three hot meals. Hell, I’ll even toss in a Bloody Mary on the house. By the looks of it you could use it,” John chuckled.

“We’ve got plenty of rounds, Gordon. Trust me,” Jones said, patting him on the shoulder. He then looked at John and said, “Make mine over medium.”

Gordon gazed out the windows as they drove. The snow-covered hills were beautiful against the light gray sky. Gordon took advantage of his time as a passenger to dream about the day he’d see Samantha and Haley. He missed them so much, and hearing Lexi describe their ordeal was heart-wrenching. Over and over, he thought about an ideal reunion scenario: he’d pull up to their cabin in McCall, and simultaneously the door would fly open, and Haley and Samantha would run out. They’d all embrace and laugh, and maybe shed some tears, but all would be forgiven. But he knew that’s not what would happen. Haley might come running out, but there was no doubt in his mind that Samantha was upset with him, and understandably so. He just hoped that time would heal the wounds that had been caused by his absence.

“Corporal Rubio, up ahead. We have a victor in the middle of the road and two people,” Jones called out. He was riding in the hatch, manning the M240 machine gun.

“Roger that, I see ’em,” Rubio responded. “Go ahead and stop, McCamey. Let’s get some eyes on this before we proceed.” He pulled out a pair of binoculars, scanning the scene, as McCamey brought the Hummer to a stop.

Gordon peeked over Rubio’s shoulder from the backseat. Next to him, Lexi was asleep, her head nestled in a crumpled-up jacket.

“Looks like a man and a woman. A couple, maybe?” Rubio handed the binos to Gordon to take a look. Gordon peered through and saw what looked like a couple having car trouble.

“Jonesy, you see anyone else up there?” Rubio called out.

“Corporal, I just see a young woman, she can’t be older than thirty, and a man, who looks about the same age. The hood of the car is up.”

“Corporal Rubio, where do you think we are?” Gordon asked.

“We’re about here,” he said, taking out a map and pointing at a county road just south of the state highway.

“That puts us how far from Rahab’s possible location?”

“My guess is about twenty miles along this road right here,” Rubio said, running his finger along a yellow highlighted line that led to a red circle.

“Hmm. You know what I’m thinking, right?” Gordon commented.

“Yeah, that this might be an ambush? I feel you. I tell you what. I’ll walk up to them and see what their story is. You and Jones cover me.”

Gordon thought for a second and said, “Roger that.”

Rubio exited the Hummer and began to walk down the muddy gravel road.

Gordon took up a position behind the open door with an M4. He watched what looked like a friendly conversation. Finally, Rubio waved and headed back to the vehicles.

“They’re cool, they ran out of fuel,” Rubio said as he walked up.

“Really? What’s up with the hood?” McCamey questioned.

“Don’t you know it’s an international distress signal?” Rubio shot back. “Boot.” He snickered. While Rubio and Jones were combat veterans of Afghanistan, McCamey hadn’t seen combat before. He was on his first deployment when the lights went out, and so he often encountered these types of comments.

“You sure everything looked okay?” Gordon queried.

“Yes, yes. Listen, not my first rodeo here, Mr. Van Zandt. These folks just need some fuel. We can spare enough for them to get them where they’re going,” Rubio answered. “McCamey, take us down there,” he ordered.