G Hopf - The Long Road

“And that is?” she asked, cracking a slight grin herself.

Nelson sensed she was flirting with him now.

The candlelight cast wavering shadows over her effervescent, champagne-brown eyes and olive-toned skin.

“You have to wait until we get to Idaho. I want you to see where we’re going. Then if Idaho doesn’t offer you the hope we think it will, you can take what you want.”

Lexi sat unresponsive for a minute, then answered him. “Deal.” She leaned over and gave him a full kiss on the lips.

“Aaah, I wasn’t expecting that,” he said, then continued. “Good. I’m glad you agree. Umm, tell me more about… you.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m pooped. Thanks for talking and for our deal,” she said, quickly opening the door and shutting it behind her. She walked away grinning ear to ear.

“You’re slick, girl. Let’s go shopping,” she said out loud as she tossed the key that had been on the dash in the air and caught it.

Nelson was in shock at how fast she had split. He laughed to himself and blew out the candle, not noticing that the key was missing. He turned and lay down on the truck’s bench seat. He replayed their conversation in his mind.

Lexi had a point: What if there wasn’t a safe place to call home? What if there wasn’t a sanctuary from this cruel new world?

Ridgecrest, CA

Gordon’s entire body hurt. From his feet to the throbbing wound on his face, he ached. Only his will to find Rahab and avenge his son kept him going .

He was walking through the desert, parallel to the highway. Being alone, he felt it safer to keep his distance from the roads.

He saw the small community as he cleared a low rise. He wasn’t exactly sure where he was, but from the map he’d found at Rahab’s camp, he was assuming he was in Rivercrest.

Walking into a neighborhood was not what he wanted to do, so he squatted and took off his pack.

In one of the side pockets was a bottle of water. Grabbing it, he took a long drink. His aching legs finally convinced him it was time to sit down.

So many thoughts were flashing before him. Hunter for the most part consumed him. He had to fight the visions of his son’s death. The one thing that distracted him was focusing on finding Rahab.

He opened the pack and pulled out a large piece of paper. When he unfolded it, a map of Oregon and Washington State appeared. There was some writing scratched in the right column—“Rajneeshpuram.” He had no idea what that meant. Maybe it was a place, maybe it was a person.

After Nelson had left him, two days ago, he had spent the entire day tearing the base apart, looking for any clues about where they might have gone. In Rahab’s quarters he’d found this map among scattered papers on the floor. It was all he had going for him.

His plan was to track Rahab down, kill him, then carry on to Idaho. The one thing he needed was a car, but that would not be easy to come by.

Thoughts of Samantha and Haley came into his mind. He was so conflicted about his mission, but he had to avenge Hunter. He had to make sure no one else suffered at the hands of this butcher.

Rahab had been right: He would look in the mirror and see the scar, but the wound only reminded him of his need to kill Rahab.

A scream from the community over the rise made him look up from the map. He quickly folded it and put it back in his pack.

He grabbed the binoculars that Nelson had left him with and low-crawled to the crest of the hill.

Another scream echoed out.

It was hard to see through the thick creosote plants and fencing around the houses.

The screams were those of a woman.

Now a child’s scream was added.

He kept looking, but he could not tell where it was coming from; he saw no movement at all.

Again more screams.

Gordon’s first instinct was not to get involved. Don’t deviate from the plan, he told himself.

Again the screams erupted; now they weren’t just screams but calls for help.

“Just stay put, this isn’t your business,” he told himself out loud.

He kept scanning the houses as best he could, but he saw nothing.

The cries for help now sounded different. At first they had sounded muffled, like the people were inside; now he could tell they were outside.

The child screamed out, “Mommyyyyy!”

“Goddamn it!” he bellowed. Gordon rolled over, tucked the binoculars away, put on the pack, and grabbed the AR-15 rifle that Nelson had given him. He stood up and began to run toward where he heard the screaming.

He got to the fence that bordered the community in about a minute. Fortunately, part of the fence was down. He made his way through and ran up to the side of the first house.

All the homes in this neighborhood were single-level ranch-style houses. Many looked similar on the outside but for the colors of the stucco siding and the composite roofs.

The house he was next to was at the end of a cul-de-sac. He walked toward the front to get a view of what or who he was dealing with.

Reaching the corner, he peered around and saw about five men but no woman or child.

The screams and cries had stopped. He wasn’t sure why.

Again he thought, Gordon, just leave, there’s too many of them.

The screams he had heard from the child were what had prompted him to get this far. He imagined the child shaking in fear, crying, scared.

“Fuck it, let’s get some,” he said to himself as he headed back toward the rear of the house. He wanted to move down the backyards until he got to the home the men were standing in front of.

He cleared the rear corner and headed quickly, rifle at the ready, to the second home. He stopped briefly and listened.

Nothing.

As he walked he made sure to look inside each home. No one, empty.

He was about to move toward the third home when around the corner came a woman and a boy of about five. Her protective attitude told Gordon he was her son.

The woman was about to scream when Gordon grabbed her and covered her mouth. “Sshhh. I’m not here to hurt you.”

She struggled to break free.

Gordon grabbed her tighter and repeated, “Please, be quiet. I won’t hurt you. I’m here to help. I heard you screaming, so I came to help.”

Her resistance ebbed as she heard the other men coming closer. They were inside the third house, and the sounds of them crashing furniture confirmed that they were looking for her and her son.

“If you want me to help you and your son, stop.”

She finally stopped struggling and went limp.

Her son looked terrified and had a white-knuckle grip on her hand.

“I’m going to uncover your mouth. Screaming would be stupid. There’s no one but me here to help. Tell me how many men there are,” he whispered into her ear.

“I don’t know, maybe six or seven.”

“Okay. What we’re going to do is walk back that way,” he whispered, nodding toward the first house he’d come to. “From there we’ll make for the desert.”

She acknowledged his command with a slight nod.

They all turned, but someone came up behind them and grabbed the boy.

Gordon reacted quickly by punching the man in the face, causing him to fall backwards with the boy in his grip. Gordon pulled Nelson’s sheath knife and jumped on top of the man, plunging the knife through his throat into his head.

The man coughed up thick, dark blood and died instantly.

Gordon pulled the knife and resheathed it without cleaning it off. He grabbed the boy and motioned for them to go.

They ran down to the first house and stopped near the corner. Gordon didn’t want to just make a run for it without knowing if anyone was there.