“How many are you?”
“Ten—no…” The man paused. Jacob could see him put his head down and turn to the group behind him. “Six, mister. We’re all that’s left.”
Jacob spotted James further up the trail; he’d circled back, keeping Duke close by his side and his rifle at the low ready. Rogers nodded to him, catching a mock salute in response.
“Okay, listen up. We don’t have time for ice breakers and a get-to-know-ya. So let me make myself extremely clear. Stay quiet… no more talking… turn up the trail, follow my point man. Everyone is on edge and I don’t want anyone getting hurt. I’ll get you all to shelter; from there we can figure out what’s what.”
Chapter Sixty
Jacob followed the trail, keeping the civilians just ahead of him. Observing them, their awkward movements and noise ripped his thoughts back to his days before The Darkness. He would be in the same spot—or even worse—as these people if everything hadn’t aligned for him. What at the time seemed like an incredible streak of bad luck, somehow kept his family alive. But alive for what? And how long?
Heavy clouds drifted in and blocked out the moon. Snowflakes began to fall with the dropping temperatures. The people ahead suddenly stopped. Jacob heard James whisper, calling Rogers forward. More muffled voices joined the conversation at the front of the column. He stepped off the trail and passed the others, making his way to the front. A stout man wearing an unzipped, camouflage parka over a thick, black fleece was standing next to James. More uniformed men just behind him quickly grabbed control of the civilians and led them up the trail to the block house and field with the Blackhawk.
“Looks like the cavalry has arrived,” Jacob said.
His words caught the attention of the parka-clad man. The man’s head turned and caught the pale moonlight, causing a thick scar to glisten. Jacob immediately recognized him.
“Masterson?” Jacob whispered.
James looked up and watched him approach, grinned, and then waved Jacob forward. Masterson shook his head watching Jacob move out of the darkness.
“Well, shit son! Anderson, you’ve outlived your expectations.”
“Drill Serg—”
“You can cut that shit, it’s Masterson now. I saw your buddy all busted up. You did well though, getting your woman and kid here.”
“Laura. You saw them?”
Masterson raised a hand, covering a cough, and then removed a canteen from his hip and brought it to his lips. Jacob noticed the burns on the man’s neck and hands. “I moved everyone up here to the block house. It’s not safe farther down the trail; it’s too close to the road. Their patrols are picking up.”
“Patrols?”
A second man with a heavily grayed beard, dressed in a well-worn canvas coat and faded jeans, moved in from the shadows and asked, “Who’s this you found?”
Masterson clenched his jaw, returning the canteen to its carrier. “Anderson, meet Clem. Clem, this guy here is one of our recent graduates.”
“Any good, is he?” the bearded man asked.
Masterson grinned. “He ain’t dead yet, so good ’nuff.”
Jacob shook his head and stepped closer. “I’m right here, you know. So what about these patrols?”
Masterson grunted and fished a can of tobacco from a breast pocket. He stuffed a wad in his cheek then looked around before continuing in a low voice. “Yeah, they’re spreading out fast. Not sure what the hell is going on, but we had to get away from the road. Further back, and into heavier trees we get, the better. So far they stick close to those floating APCs.”
“We hit a small group in the valley about a mile due east of here.”
Masterson’s eyes narrowed as he eyed up at Jacob. “Yellow or red?”
Jacob squinted, not understanding the question.
“Their armor, was it yellow or red?”
Duke whined restlessly and James sighed, stepping away from the end of the trail he was guarding, and interrupted. “Let’s move this conversation inside. It’s not safe out here in the open.”
Rogers, along with most of the civilians, had already moved on and entered the small block house, leaving the rest of them alone in the dark. A small gathering of soldiers was standing sentry in the field near the lone helicopter while others patrolled closer to the block building.
Masterson nodded his agreement and moved out of the way, waving his hand toward the house. James stepped off, leading the way with Jacob close behind him. The door to the blockhouse hung open. A thick tarp was draped over the opening to block the light inside from escaping. Jacob pulled back the tarp and stepped into the warm interior.
He immediately felt the heat of the wood fire and smelled the savory scent of roasted meat and vegetables. At the front of the crowded low-lit building, people were sitting at two long picnic tables. Jacob stepped deeper into the space, feeling the crunch of dried leaves under his boots. He could see the strangers from the trail were already working on bowls filled with stew. Huddled around low burning candles that were randomly positioned over the plank tables, they ate quietly while being mindful of the soldiers lying in sleeping bags at the back of the house.
Jacob let his eyes scan the place until he saw them—Laura and Katy in a makeshift kitchen along a side wall. Katy sat in a tall chair while Laura helped Buck, their pilot, fill bowls with stew.
Jacob followed his stomach and moved off in their direction before being caught by the sleeve. He turned back to see Masterson looking back at him. “I know you’re eager to get off duty, but let’s get this out of the way first. Tell me about them… the ones you hit in the valley.”
Rogers crept up from the dark with bowls in his hands. “What about it?” he said.
“Who were they?” Masterson asked.
Rogers passed a bowl to Jacob then pointed to an empty place at the table. Jacob nodded and dropped onto a bench seat beside him. “They
