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———

We didn’t know if Captain Eddie and his men were even following us anymore. Hiding out in the casino safe for protection didn’t afford us much of a surveillance opportunity. We knew troops had passed through to the south and to the west, out of Deadwood, based on the hundreds of tracks through the ash and dust. Our own tracks were at least camouflaged, mixed in with the others, and, tucking in behind the larger force moving south, we hoped we’d left Eddie behind for good. It was foolish to be wary of a single troop, when every soldier in the country had a target on Americans, on anyone who didn’t match their uniform dress code.

That’s what was so troubling about being pursued by Eddie and his men. It didn’t make sense that every other military company seemed to have a large zone to monitor or designated route to follow. They didn’t seem nearly as target specific as Eddie. Surely the invading army hadn’t assigned a company of men to chase down individual American families. So how and why had Captain Eddie and his men followed us all the way from Grand Forks? Could it legitimately be about that Markus guy we’d killed? Would they be doing this all for that one guy? Wouldn’t it have made more sense to pass the chase on to someone else, or at least call for help? Were they not in contact with a headquarters? Wasn’t anyone watching their movements?

At first we assumed they had to be communicating with some higher authority, checking in periodically. But then it became clear they couldn’t be. If some base somewhere knew one troop was tracking a group of Americans on a specific route, surely they’d send men from another direction to intercept them, and yet that had not happened. There couldn’t be any communication between a central command and Eddie’s troop. We had passed through several heavily occupied areas already, and not once had we seen any indication of anyone trying to cut us off or help Eddie. Interesting. Maybe this invasion wasn’t as coordinated as it seemed.

My questions had gained reasonable traction in Danny’s head as well. He listened as I shared my thoughts, without interrupting, even nodding occasionally. If Eddie wasn’t following us anymore, perhaps it was because of the other troops we’d seen. Maybe we’d gone beyond their designated search area. Maybe they didn’t have permission to go any further. On the other hand, if they were still following us, maybe no one knew they were. Maybe someone else would have a problem with that. It was something to keep in mind.

Tara’s farm turned out to be a pretty good place to hide out for the day. We parked the trucks in the sub-ground level of one of her barns, covering them with cold bales of hay, and we hung out on the barn’s main floor. Her husband wasn’t home, which didn’t seem to surprise Tara, but clearly seemed to disappoint Emily. Hayley continued to hang out with her and preoccupy her, but Emily hadn’t been able to sleep yet without nightmares, and we knew this had to be a particularly difficult situation for her to accept or understand.

Cameron and Blake took the camera and climbed the hill behind Tara’s farm to get a better glimpse of the immediate area. Tara told them they’d have a great profile view of Mount Rushmore from the top. Cameron told her he’d take a picture. No one heard them come back into the barn a short while later, until Cameron spoke, “You guys are not going to believe this!”

TWENY-NINE: “Mount NoMore”

We expected him to say something about seeing Captain Eddie, but the look on his face was more sadness than worry, and the camera he held up clearly contained whatever he was about to show us. The first few pictures said it all. Mount Rushmore wasn’t there anymore. No Washington. No Jefferson. No Roosevelt. No Lincoln. Their chiseled faces had apparently been used for drone target practice. Fourteen years of work, eighty-seven years of existence, gone in a day.

Hayley walked away with Emily while the rest of us talked, the first time anyone had been alone with Emily without Tara around. When Tara, who had been preoccupied with the photos, noticed Emily was gone, sudden panic flashed across her face. She ran out of the barn, and Danny and I followed her. “Emily!” Tara called out.

“I’m here, Mama,” came the cheery reply from the side of the house.

As we jogged towards the house, Hayley and Emily came around the corner. “I was showing her the goats, Mama,” Emily said with a smile. “They’re still alive!” Clearly the chemicals hadn’t reached this area.

“It’s okay, honey,” Tara replied, pulling Emily to her, as we looked at Hayley, who wasn’t smiling. She seemed to be glaring at Tara, who flushed a dark shade of red.

I started to ask about the glare. “Hayley, wha—”

“What’s going on?” Danny cut me off.

“Dad,” Hayley addressed me. “Would you take Emily back to the barn?”

“What? Why?” I replied.

Danny grabbed my arm. “Dad,” he said calmly but with a serious tone.

Got it. “Okay.” Looking at both of them and then Tara, who didn’t return my glance, I led Emily back towards the barn. When I peeked back, the three of them were gone, apparently into the house. What in the world was going on?

———

Hayley brushed past Tara into the house, searching until she found Tara’s bedroom. Tara followed but didn’t object. “What’s going on, Hayley?” Danny asked, watching her go through the closets and drawers.

“Do you want to tell him, or should I?” Hayley replied with another cold look at Tara.

Tara shrugged, tears beginning to form in her eyes. “You don’t understand—”

“Emily has never met her dad,” Hayley cut her off, standing still for a minute. “I asked her to tell me a little bit about him, and she said she’d never met him. Never!”

Danny looked back and forth between Hayley and Tara and tried to catch Tara’s eyes. “In eleven years?” Danny asked in disbelief. “But you said he was in the—”

“I was raped,” Tara interrupted quietly, silencing Danny and Hayley immediately. “Twelve years ago,” she continued. “I was at a party my senior year at Texas A&M. Someone put something in my drink, took me to a room, and raped me.” There was bitterness and hurt in her voice now, and Hayley’s angry façade was evaporating. “I’ve never had the heart to tell my daughter where she came from. Her dad’s not a soldier. I don’t even know who her dad is. I never even reported the rape—and yes, I know I should have. Before you say anything else, or start judging me for anything else, let me try to explain.” She looked at both of them and neither objected. “The first eight years or so it was simple enough to keep Emily in the dark. She didn’t really ask any questions, never had any friends over—didn’t really even have any friends. But around nine or ten, yeah, she started to ask questions. Other people were asking her questions. I could have—should have—told her then, but…I don’t know…”

“You couldn’t,” Danny said it for her. Tara was quiet for a moment. “I get it,” he continued. “But she honestly still believes he’s a soldier or something—that he’s just never been able to come home. Wouldn’t it be—”

“I know, I know,” Tara jumped back in. “It sounds stupid. What kind of child would be that naïve, right? A very sheltered one…obviously. So maybe what kind of parent would do that to their kid—Is that what you’re thinking?” She didn’t let anyone answer. “We all played our part…Mom homeschooled her until she got sick and she and Dad moved up to Medora. Then I took over. I knew I couldn’t keep this up forever, but who wants to tell a little girl her father’s never coming home—even if you think she would’ve known that long before now.” Tara was sobbing now, but she kept going. “I mean look around you—look at the world I built for her. It’s all make-believe. These photos, they’re of someone I’ve never met, all photoshopped with me. Even the wedding pictures. I’m not married. Never have been. Dad and I—we decided it would be best to tell Emily her dad was in the military. That way, when she was old enough to take it, we could tell her he’d died. She could be proud of her father then, and no one would think less of her. I never wanted her to be ashamed of me, and I definitely never wanted her to be ashamed of herself. What was I supposed to do?”