Gazing at the wall, Jennifer said, “I don’t know. I lost track of time. Do you know what day it is?”
The young woman shook her head morosely and stared down at her dirty fingernails. A new silence came upon them and lasted for a while, but Jennifer wanted to get her talking. She needed to find out what was going on outside. Jennifer walked over to her new roommate and sat.
“What’s your name?” Jennifer asked her, patting her on the thigh. She could feel the woman’s thigh muscle convulsing under her thin prison uniform.
“Theresa,” she replied simply.
“What are you doing here? I mean… why were you arrested?”
Theresa looked at Jennifer then at the wall. A solitary light bulb lit their cold and dusty room. The plywood floor was rotting where it had gotten wet.
“My husband… he was part of this scouting party out looking for a fugitive and he got ambushed.”
Jennifer’s face must have registered shock because Theresa was quick to reassure her. “He’s fine. No one was killed but he got cut up pretty good. Anyway, I told my friend what happened and the true story got out. Whoever ambushed them also gave everyone first aid and helped them get back into town.”
Something dawned on Jennifer.
“Who were they going after?” she asked, trying to not get her hopes too high.
“The guy who ran against Asher last time. Patton Larsen.”
Jennifer’s face went white with shock.
“Did they catch him?” she asked, dreading to hear the answer. It seemed strange to Jennifer, but a wide smile came over the younger woman’s face.
“What?” Jennifer asked, her voice a mixture of happiness and dread.
“No, they didn’t get him. In fact, he broke me and a bunch of other people out and tried to get us to Portage, over the hills.”
Jennifer nodded. She and Patton had been to Portage many times, mostly for business. Theresa told her about how they had traveled through the mountains, had gotten ambushed, and had almost made it to Portage. She told her about how she had been part of a scouting party that had gotten arrested and how she had been brought back to the prison and beaten by guards.
“Where are they now?” Jennifer asked.
Theresa shrugged her shoulders and said, “I don’t know. I got caught, remember? They’re probably still in camp up above Portage right now.”
Although she was close in her guess, by the time she uttered those words to Jennifer, Patton and his followers had already moved on.
It had been another miserable and cold night on the move. Their camp outside of Portage was their longest respite since Patton rescued them from prison. Now, they were trying to tough out a long, cold and rainy night in a hastily-built camp four miles south of the tiny town. While sitting on the rough ground, warming himself by the fire, Patton’s thoughts turned to his wife. He thought of Jerry limping towards the SUV at gunpoint, and the others he’d sent, possibly to their deaths. A plan was developing, but he was going to need safe harbor to make it all happen. He needed good shelter and food for these people. Then, and only then, could he put his plan into motion.
Patton straightened his legs and massaged his lower back. It wasn’t often that he allowed himself the luxury of rest, but when he did so, he took full advantage. He was beginning to wear down physically, mentally, and emotionally and he knew that if he were to break, the rest of these people had no chance. He was the source of their hope. Patton took a mental inventory of what they had to their advantage and vice versa. The list was very heavily-weighted to the latter. The best thing was they hadn’t been attacked by Asher’s people since the second attempt. Patton knew that wasn’t going to last forever, but they were going to be out in the open now. This would make it easier for Asher’s people to find them.
Patton woke to a warm, dry, sunny morning. The sounds of happy people and the wonderful smells of cooking meat greeted and cheered him. He emerged from his sleeping place to find his group huddled around a large fire with huge hunks of beef cooking on a makeshift spit. His stomach groaned as he smelled the delicious meat. He suddenly wished that he had some eggs to go with his steak.
“What’s this?” he asked the obvious ringleaders, who were turning the meat over the flames with a long stick.
One of the men looked up at Patton and smiled. “On watch last night,” he said, looking at his co-conspirator. “We heard this cow bellowing. It was down there,” he said, pointing down into a pasture towards the east.
“Well, I don’t care where it came from,” Patton said smiling, “We needed this bad, guys. Thank you.”
The two men nodded and smiled. Patton made a mental note to find out who the cow belonged to so he could repay them. Their reward came from the others who’d gathered around to watch the meat cook. Up above the crowd, Patton saw the remains of the cow, which had been butchered rather amateurishly. He sharpened his field knife as he walked up to the carcass and cut off more usable meat.
Instead of packing up camp and heading out again, Patton decided to remain in the spot one more day. That would give their meat time to dry in the sun, assuming it didn’t start raining again, and let these people’s bodies absorb the nutrients. He would make sure they all hydrated and got good rest. This, Patton thought optimistically, might be their chance at actually surviving.
CHAPTER 31
During the next day, Patton got better at picking out Blue Creek surveillance vehicles. Most stood out—especially the large black SUVs with tinted windows. Patton figured Asher had watched too many movies. A distinct patrol pattern developed. First, one of the black SUVs would drive south along the interstate. A few minutes later, a large sedan would follow. Then the SUV would travel north along the interstate. It would exit at Plymouth and come up one of the many gravel roads that headed west into the hills where they were hiding. Once the SUV patrolled the area and left, the sedan would soon follow. Once both vehicles passed through, there would be a gap of about two hours. Patton moved the camp in between the patrols, but they made very little progress.
This pattern of dodging patrols and then moving camp went on nearly all the next day. Around dusk there was a change. As usual, the SUV drove down the interstate and then up towards the camp. It disappeared over the horizon and was then followed by the sedan. Once the sedan was safely out of sight, Patton gathered the party and pushed them south. Without warning, a pickup truck with armed men in the back, sped up the gravel road and came to a violent, skidding stop. They had been spotted somehow and the enemy wised up by bringing in a third vehicle into their hunt.
Men with rifles poured out of the truck’s bed. The cab doors opened, revealing four more men, including the driver. They quickly formed a skirmishing line and slowly made their way to where Patton’s group was last spotted. Patton was able to get everyone down on the ground behind rocks, hidden in prairie grass, or whatever cover they could find. Patton organized a perimeter defense with what weapons and reliable shooters that he had.
Shots rang out and bullets peppered the ground behind Patton as he ran up the hill. He ordered his firing line to lay down suppressing fire and then ducked behind a small outcropping of rock. From behind a boulder, Patton watched most of the enemy skirmish line drop for cover. A couple of the men pressed forward, however, continuing to fire their weapons blindly towards hasty defensive position Patton had established.
“Keep firing!” he yelled to the four men in front. He could hear the screams and of the non-combatants behind him. He yelled at them to stay down.