G Hopf: The Long Road

“Sam, we were being shot at. I saw the machine gun and did what needed to be done. We needed to confirm they were dead.”

“I understand. But this time, we needed you and you weren’t there. Plus, why did you have them hide in the culvert? Why not take shelter in the trailer with me?”

“The trailer didn’t provide real protection. In case you didn’t notice, they were showering bullets down on us. I felt the culvert was safe. I obviously didn’t know this group had people hiding in the desert to our right,” Gordon said defensively.

“All I am saying is that you don’t always have to be the one. What if one of them was killed?”

“You’re being ridiculous, Sam. If I didn’t do something, more of us might have died. We lost an entire family today, burned alive in their car. I’ll tell you this, I won’t let Hunter go unprotected again,” Gordon said, pacing the short distance in the trailer.

“What does that mean?”

“It means from now on he will have the tools necessary to defend himself and whoever.”

“He’s a boy, Gordon!”

“Not anymore! That is a twentieth-century invention. He’s now a young man and needs to step up!”

Putting her hand up in a motion to indicate she was done hearing from Gordon, Samantha opened the door and left.

Gordon just watched her as she slammed the door. He shook his head and tossed the water bottle he had in his hand.

“Dada?” Haley whispered from her bed.

Hearing her sweet little voice brought Gordon back from his thoughts. He quickly walked to the rear of trailer and sat on the edge of the bed. Haley sat up, rubbed her eyes, and hugged him.

“Hi, honey,” he said softly, kissing the top of her head.

“Can you cuddle me, Dada?”

“Sure, sweetie” He looked over at Hunter, who was still sleeping. Gordon lay next to Haley and cradled her small body. He kissed her head and rubbed her arms till he could hear the heavier breathing indicating she had fallen back asleep. He then thought about the events of the day. He replayed them over and over. It haunted him that the kids had been directly attacked. He tried to convince himself that he was right, but Samantha’s voice kept echoing in his head. Maybe she was right, he thought. Then again, maybe she was being too impractical. One thing he didn’t want to do was ponder what to do when the shit was hitting the fan. His instincts had gotten them this far. Many conflicting thoughts battled in his mind, but one was constant and nagged him more than anything… the thought that he alone couldn’t keep his children safe anymore.

San Diego, CA

The slight breeze felt good on Sebastian’s face. The noise of the wood blinds banging against the windowsill had awakened him. His vision was blurry, so he blinked repeatedly in an attempt to focus. He gazed around the quaintly decorated room. Little tchotchkes adorned the small shelves and tops of all the furniture. Reproductions of well-known oil paintings hung on all the walls. In the air was a faint smell of lavender. When he adjusted himself in the bed, a sharp pain emanated from his right leg. He tossed off the blanket and looked at a tight bandage. He ran his hands across the textured fabric until he found the center of the pain. Exhaling deeply, he tried to recall how he had arrived where he was. He remembered the chopper crash but not much after. An image of a young woman came to him, then flashes of blood, lots of blood. He must have blacked out again after that, because he couldn’t remember anything else. He glanced around the room looking for his clothes but saw nothing. The shorts he had on were not his, and by the way his wound had been treated and the condition of the room, he assumed those who had rescued him were good people.

The door opening startled him. He adjusted himself, preparing to meet whoever had rescued him. The door had slowly creaked open not more than nine inches when a child’s head appeared from around it. The boy saw Sebastian awake and staring at him. Shyly, he tucked his head back. Sebastian could hear unintelligible whispering followed by a woman’s voice.

“You two close that door this minute and get back to your chores.”

The children listened to the unseen woman and scurried away without closing the door.

Sebastian sat farther up in the bed and said, “Hello?”

The door opened fully to reveal the woman; he recognized her face. She was the young blond woman he remembered from the crash site. Now able to see her clearly, he was drawn in by her beauty. She was average height, he guessed around five feet five inches, and slender. Her facial features had a cuteness that he was attracted to. Her long, straight hair was pulled back in a ponytail, revealing her full cheeks, small nose, and pouty lips.

She stepped into the room and said, “You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“Good, good,” he replied. He felt nervous for a reason he could only assume was his attraction to her.

“Are you hungry?” she asked. She stood at the foot of the bed. She was dressed plainly; a buttoned-up white shirt was tucked into faded jeans.

“Actually, I am.”

“Good, I’ll go get some food,” she said, then turned around.

“Wait, don’t go just yet. I have questions, a lot of questions.”

“Let’s answer your questions after you get fed, okay?”

“Sure, that’s fine.”

Before she left, she approached the bed, put out her hand, and said, “I’m Annaliese.”

Sebastian took her hand and shook it “I’m—”

“Corporal Sebastian Van Zandt. I know,” she answered confidently.

He looked oddly at her, not knowing how she knew his name.

Pointing at his chest, she said, “Your dog tags.”

“Of course.”

“Unless you need something else besides your questions answered, I’ll go and get your food.”

He found her abundance of confidence and maturity attractive. She didn’t look as if she could be any older than twenty-five, but he could tell by their minimal conversation that she was wiser than her peers.

As she stepped toward the door he said, “I know you’ll answer my questions later, but where am I?”

“You’re in Bishop Sorenson’s house.”

“Who’s Bishop Sorenson?”

“He’s my father, and you’ll meet him very soon.”

40 miles east of Barstow, California

“Here, take this,” Gordon said to Hunter, handing him a small .38-caliber revolver.

Hunter looked stunned. He hadn’t expected this when his father pulled him aside to talk.

Gordon and the group had awakened early to start their journey east toward Las Vegas. He strove to stay far away from major cities, but the best improved route took them very close to Vegas. While they were deciding the route, Gordon had spotted Fort Irwin on the map. Thinking they might find something worth value if the base was accessible, he planned to recon it. Nelson disagreed with this approach, thinking they needed to keep heading toward Idaho. Nelson argued that they had plenty of food, water, ammunition, and weapons to make the trip. But Gordon had an ally in Holloway, who helped him outvote Nelson. Making it a point never to leave anything behind of value, he had gone back and stripped his attackers from yesterday.

The handgun he was giving Hunter came from one of those men.

Hunter looked at the gun he was now holding. Even though it was a compact model, it appeared large in his hands. He flipped the gun back and forth, looking nervous. He knew how strict his dad was about gun handling.