* * * *
Drake put up the dogs, as he did every night, but typically not this early.
He made a mental note to get his weekly food rations from the Ranch tomorrow that came last time with scrap bones and meat for his dogs, courtesy of Chef Rico.
The three-mile hike for Drake was like a walk to the mailbox for a city dweller. Two miles in, he heard the clamoring of people clearly not used to being in the woods.
“You snotty little brat,” he heard one man yell to the boy he assumed was Joshua.
“Your father is the chosen one to redeem us all, and you act like you don’t even want to see him. He took two bullets from the occupiers just to see you again.”
“Is he going to be okay?” asked Joshua, surprised by what he had heard.
“He is going to recover, but he needs you by his side,” said another in a softer tone. “Can you do that for him, Joshua? Can you?”
“I…I think so,” he replied hesitantly. “I’ll try.”
“That’s all he asks,” replied the second man, the nicer one thought Joshua.
The foursome, within a mile of their new compound, was in perfect view for Drake, who was fifty feet up in a large pine tree.
He thought about taking the three men out with headshots in less than 10 seconds to free the boy but was reminded of Mac’s instructions.
I’ve got a good thing going with them in the valley, Drake thought. I’m not going to blow it now.
Surveillance only was the order, and that’s what I’ll do, he thought, climbing down the tree as they passed and eventually finding his way to the rock cliff he had been on just hours earlier.
He hardly needed his binoculars since the MacDonald generators lit up the entire house, with most of the curtains wide open. The music was again blaring, with bands likely not from Mr. MacDonald’s collection.
Judas Priest was another of Drake’s favorites as the lyrics Breaking the law, breaking the law pierced the otherwise quiet mountain evening. He observed for several hours through a hodgepodge of Hendrix, Dillon, Zeppelin, Floyd, and the Doors.
The man he had seen being carried inside earlier appeared to be in a back bedroom. Drake observed Joshua being led into that room for only a few minutes, before being placed in another room upstairs.
While he had a good vantage point for observation, he understood what needed to happen next. There must be a rescue of the boy and protection of the supplies hidden underground. Drake didn’t need anybody to tell him where they were, as he and his brother had observed Mr. MacDonald more than a few times accessing it over the years. Drake also had one up at his place, but nobody asked about it so far, not even Cory or Mac.
He radioed Mac quietly, giving an update.
“That’s good work, Drake. You can head home now, and we’ll talk in the morning.”
He made the slow climb off of the cliff, turning towards home when he heard the yelling. Still concealed, he observed a man pointing to a nearby tree, yelling to Joshua to do his business and get back into the room.
“I thought my dad wanted to see me!” he cried out. “He doesn’t even care at all.”
Drake stayed out for another few minutes, wondering if the boy would be alone in the room. Maybe I can talk to him, he thought, and let him know we will help him.
It would be a huge risk for most people, he considered, but this was his element—the one place he felt comfortable in this world, even before the day.
Several people walking around outside were driven in by the howling of a pack of coyotes not far off in the distance.
He was able to sneak around the side of the house, slowly crouching and ducking underneath large picture windows. The tall pine tree on the back of the house made for easy climbing, level with the second-story window. The curtains on the back room they had Joshua in were drawn shut. Only shadows were visible, with two moving around.
One appeared to be an adult, and the other presumably Joshua. After five more minutes, the larger figure exited the room, closing the door behind him.
Drake, holding on to branches with both arms and legs, cautiously approached the bedroom window. He knocked two times, paused, and then once more. Joshua peered out from behind the curtains, staring straight into Drake’s eyes, without screaming or even a flinch.
This is one tough kid, thought Drake. Most kids he had ever seen, boys or girls, would have screamed and run away.
Motioning with his hand, he gestured to the boy to open the window. Joshua did as he was instructed and was told in a whisper, “You don’t know me, but I work for the Ranch and help watch over Samuel’s group, including your mom and everyone else there. Do you want to stay here or go home?”
Joshua began to cry. “They said my dad wanted me to be with him on account of him getting shot, but he doesn’t want me back, only my mom.”
“I’m sure that’s not the whole truth,” replied Drake, now missing his own dad more than ever.
“It is!” snapped Joshua. “He told me right to my face when they brought me here.”
“Are you sure he said that?” asked Drake.
“He told me ‘I’m going to trade you back to the occupiers
