Trackers 3: The Storm (A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Thriller) Read online

  A spike of fear went through him. “No, dammit! I told you a dozen times already that you have to stay inside,” Colton snapped. His words were sharper than he meant them to be. “I’m sorry. I’m exhausted. But it’s not safe out there. We lost seven people yesterday. I don’t want you going anywhere until I’m back. We have plenty of food, water, and supplies until then.”

  Kelly reared back to study him. “Keep your voice down, Marcus. Risa is already worried enough. Frankly, I’m worried too if you’re keeping things from me. What’s going on out there?”

  Colton stood from the table and gestured for his wife to follow him to his office, where they could talk in private. Risa looked up from the book she was reading on the couch as they passed.

  “We’ll be right back, sweetie,” Kelly said.

  Colton quietly shut the door to his lightly furnished office, taking a moment to look at the snow-brushed boulders in their backyard right outside the window.

  “I’m sorry about cursing,” he said.

  Kelly held his gaze for a moment and then nodded. “I understand you’re tired, and that you have a major burden trying to keep everyone safe, but don’t snap at me. I’m your ally, not your enemy.”

  “You’re my rock.” Colton reached out, and Kelly hesitantly accepted a kiss to her forehead.

  “I’m scared, Marcus,” she said when he pulled away. “What if something happens to you out there? Isn’t there anyone else you can send on your behalf or take with you?”

  Colton thought for a moment, but who could he send? He didn’t trust Don, and it was too dangerous to send Lindsey. The detective was tough and savvy, but a pretty young woman like her would be a target for every raider from here to Loveland. Raven didn’t know the first thing about negotiation. There wasn’t anyone that could do this job but him.

  “I’m sorry, but there’s no one else that can do it.”

  Kelly wiped at her eyes, smearing a tear into her hair. “I wish Jake could go with you. He always had your back.”

  Colton glanced at the picture of him and Jake Englewood on his desk. They were younger men then, and stronger. God, how Colton wished he was still here to help fight the coming battles. Kelly stepped over to his bugout bag and rucksack on the floor in front of his desk. His gear was all spread out, including his weapons and ammunition.

  “Looks like you’re preparing for a war,” Kelly said.

  “I’m preparing for the future,” he said. For the past month he’d shared most everything with his wife, trusting her to handle the harsh realities of their world with the same strength and grace she’d always shown during their marriage. But now, as he was about to leave Estes Park for the first time since the bombs dropped, he feared telling her what Jason Cole had said. It would only make her worry.

  “What else aren’t you telling me, Marcus? I know there’s something...”

  He almost laughed; she was sharp as ever. “Raven and I both think a fight is coming. Not like the skirmish with the raiders or the sporadic violence we’ve seen in the past few weeks. Something much, much worse. That’s why I’m going out there to find help.”

  Kelly was silent for a moment, fear radiating from her eyes. He wrapped his arms around her and held her for several moments. “How bad is it out there?” she asked.

  “It’s getting worse every day,” Colton said. “The FEMA camp outside Loveland was attacked, Fort Collins is in shambles, and Denver is hell.”

  Kelly placed a hand on her heart, silent.

  “We’ve been lucky compared to the cities east of the mountains, but the violence that’s torn those communities apart is headed our way,” Colton continued. “I have to find allies to help us keep order until the government can make it out this way and get the grid back up. I just hope we can survive until then.”

  Kelly locked eyes with Colton. “Can’t Secretary Montgomery help?” she asked quietly, like she knew it wasn’t possible.

  “She’s got her hands full with a thousand other communities that need help. Estes Park already got more than most.”

  The door creaked open and Risa walked into the office. She clutched her stuffed donkey to her chest, the one Colton had wanted her to give up. He was glad she’d kept it.

  Risa looked at the rucksack and bugout bag, tilting her head curiously. “Papa, are you going somewhere?”

  “Yes, sweetie, I’m going to meet some friends.”

  “Can I come?”

  “I’m sorry,” Colton said. “I need you to stay here, okay?”

  Kelly gestured for Risa. She walked over, and Kelly wrapped her arms around their daughter. Having his wife and daughter staring at him with fear in their eyes broke Colton’s heart‌—‌but it was the exact reason he had to leave them tonight. This was the best way to protect them.

  “I’ll be back in two days,” he said. “I’ve already told Raven and Detective Plymouth to check on you guys.”

  Kelly nodded. “Okay.”

  He hesitated, and then said, “You still have that thing I gave you?”

  “Yeah.” Kelly lifted up her shirt slightly so Colton could see the grip of the pistol without Risa seeing the gun.

  “Good,” he said. “Remember to keep rationing the food and water. If something happens, go to the safe room in the cellar.”

  “I hate that place,” Risa said. “It’s dark, and cold, and...”

  “It’s a safe place, kiddo,” Kelly said, running a hand through Risa’s hair.

  “Actually, let’s go take a look at it before I go,” Colton said. “I’m going to grab some more gear from there.”

  They made their way through the house to the basement, where Colton had installed a safe room after the 2013 floods. Usually they used a bookshelf filled with paint cans to hide the steel door, but he’d gone inside for gear earlier and had pushed it aside.

  Colton clicked on his flashlight and walked into the large room that was built directly under their deck. Bunk beds were positioned against the north wall, and barrels of fresh water and crates of MREs lined the west and east walls.

  “If something happens, this is where you’re going to come with your mom,” Colton said to Risa. “Do you understand?”

  Still clutching her donkey, she just stared into the dimly lit space.

  “When I’m gone, you listen to your mom, okay?” Colton said.

  This time Risa nodded, once.

  Colton continued into the room and grabbed a box of the MREs. He wasn’t planning on being gone long, but he would take them just in case. He set the box outside the door, closed it, and then pushed the bookshelf back into place.

  A few minutes later, they were loading his gear into the Jeep outside. Colton threw the rucksack on the passenger seat. Next came his rifles: an M14 and an AR-15. He kept one Colt .45 holstered and set the other on the seat.

  “I love you both,” Colton said after shutting the passenger door. “I’ll see you in two days.”

  Risa hugged him around his waist and buried her head against his chest. Kelly kissed him, hugging both Colton and Risa tight. Something about the moment seemed final, like...

  No, don’t even start thinking like that, Marcus.

  “I’ll see you soon,” Colton said. He jumped into the Jeep and waved as he backed out of the driveway. As soon as he pulled onto East Elkhorn Avenue, the questions and doubts in his mind vanished. He remembered the oaths he’d sworn to his country, his family, and his town. Sometimes an oath required a man to pick the safety of others over his own. Colton would protect Kelly, Risa, and all the other people of Estes Park, no matter the cost to himself.

  He drove with a renewed sense of purpose and made good time to downtown. Colton spotted Lindsey and Don talking outside Bond Park. The patrol sergeant’s presence at the refugee camp was a bad sign. Colton sped down the final stretch of street and then parked outside town hall. He motioned for Lindsey and Don to come over to the Jeep.

  Lindsey leaned down to the truck and said, “Thank God you’re here, Chief
. We heard some crazy news. I’ll let Don tell it.”

  Don pulled off his cowboy hat and scratched at his thinning hair. “I was finally able to reach someone at the Larimer County’s Sheriff’s Office with the radio,” he said. “Sheriff Gerrard was shot dead by raiders. Apparently one of his deputies, Mike Thompson, has taken over.”

  “The UFC fighter?” Colton asked.

  “Yeah, that’s the one. Real gunslinger with a killer instinct,” Don said, stepping up to the Jeep.

  Colton tilted his head. “Sounds like he’s the guy I need to talk to, then. Do you know where he’s holed up at?”

  “Fort Collins,” Don said.

  “I guess that will be my second stop after the FEMA camp.” Colton paused to look Don in the eye. “The FEMA camp is all clear? The attack is over?”

  A quick and firm nod from Don. “That’s right. You’re good to go, Chief.”

  “Okay,” Colton said. “I’ll head inside now to listen to the broadcast and see if I can arrange a time to meet up with the new sheriff.”

  Colton went to shut off his Jeep, but Don stopped him with his hand. “I heard from the station at Fort Collins that Thompson just left with several deputies. I’ll radio him and let him know you’re coming. It will save you some time.”

  “Sounds good,” Colton said, anxious to get moving. “I better get going.”

  “Good luck,” Don said. He spat chewing tobacco juice on the pavement and put his cowboy hat back on. Lindsey looked over her shoulder as he strode by Bond Park. She scowled as Don eyed the refugees with distaste.

  “He said anything about my decision to let them stay yet?” Colton asked.

  “Said you weren’t thinking with your head. I told Donnie he needs to try thinking more with his heart.”

  Colton smiled. “Not sure he has one.”

  “That prick should be the one going out there to meet with the sheriff,” Lindsey said with a snort. “Personally, I don’t trust Thompson. I heard he’s got a temper and has multiple pending cases against him for using excessive force.”

  “Another reason I should be the one to meet him,” Colton said. “I wouldn’t trust Don to make us any friends.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Just keep things in line here and make sure Raven stays out of trouble,” Colton said. “Where is he, by the way?”

  “He’s spending some time with Sandra and Allie at his place. We’re going to leave for Storm Mountain later today to see if we can get a meeting with John Kirkus and his men. Anything specific you’d like me to say or offer Kirkus?”

  Colton paused to think, then said, “I’d like you to talk to John about establishing an outpost there to warn us of attack along Highway 34. If they say no, you’re authorized to offer them a few horses and some diesel for their generators. If they say no to that, tell them they can have all the access they want to the park to hunt in return for their help.”

  “Roger that. What are you going to offer Sheriff Thompson for his help?”

  “I’m honestly not sure yet, but I’ve got a good drive ahead of me to think about it.”

  She patted the Jeep door, her gaze moving toward the front of the police station where Mayor Andrews and Tom Feagen were standing. Colton waved and then put the Jeep in gear. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to either of them.

  “Good luck, Chief,” Lindsey said.

  “You too, Detective.” Colton paused and glanced back at Lindsey. “One more thing. Tell Raven to keep his mouth shut on Storm Mountain. He’s there to protect you, and that’s it.”

  She patted her gun and grinned. “More like I’ll be the one looking out for him.”

  Colton smiled and waved goodbye. He glanced in the rearview mirror as he drove away, studying the crowd in Bond Park. Something told him he was going to have more problems on his hands when he came back...assuming he came back at all.

  Fenix stood by the window of his cell looking out over the snowy forest, trying to figure out where the hell he was being held prisoner.

  The good news was these guys weren’t military, but the bad news was they were going to hand him over to the military as soon as they could secure their ten million dollars in gold.

  Fenix pounded the concrete wall with his palm.

  In a single night, he’d lost most of his inner circle and was completely cut off from the rest of his network. They were probably out there looking for him right now, but if he didn’t make it back in a few days, his power would transfer to Zach Horton, a former Army Sergeant that Fenix had known for over a decade. He liked Zach, but the man wasn’t ready to lead the Sons of Liberty.

  I have to get back to my men. I have to finish what I started.

  “Let me out of here!” Fenix yelled at the top of his lungs.

  The noise attracted the attention of one of the guards. The steel door creaked open, and a man with silver hair stepped in. Fenix recognized him as the bastard who’d shoved a gun in his face last night on the road. Two more men stood sentry in the hallway, all of them wearing fatigues. These men, whoever they were, didn’t have any symbols or logos on their outfits. So who the hell were they?

  “Shut your trap before I shut it for you,” the guard said.

  Fenix snarled. If it weren’t for the cuffs on his wrists, he would have dropped this guy with a punch to the throat.

  “Where the fuck am I?”

  “You’re in a prison cell.”

  Fenix clamped his jaw shut and managed his anger for a moment before replying. “You do realize my army is going to be coming after me, right?”

  The man stared at him, sizing him up, and Fenix did the exact same thing in return. The guard stood at least six feet tall and had sharp features. His fatigues were tight enough that Fenix could see sculpted muscles beneath the fabric.

  “You going to tell me your name?” Fenix asked.

  “Hacker.” He pulled the duty belt up around his waist, rattling two sheathed knives, a pair of pliers, and the hatchet he’d pulled out on the road the night before.

  Fenix laughed when he made the connection. “Hacker, like you hack people up? That’s fucking funny.”

  The guard smiled back. “I’m not worried about your racist, ignorant friends, to be honest. They didn’t do very well against the United States military last night, now did they? Us on the other hand...well, you saw that helo go down in a hail of gunfire.”

  Fenix felt his face warm. Footfalls in the hallway distracted him momentarily. They weren’t the heavy echo of military boots, but rather the click of dress shoes. A man Fenix hadn’t seen before rounded the corner, dressed in a pinstriped suit with a red pocket square in the breast pocket. Black leather shoes, polished to a shine, clacked on the floor. His long dark hair was combed back into a neat ponytail. Like Spears, he seemed to be some kind of Indian. Fenix couldn’t be bothered to guess what type. They were all the same, anyway.

  “That will be all, Hacker. I’ll take over now,” the man said.

  With a nod, Hacker moved out of his boss’s way.

  “I’ve met Hacker, so what the fuck is your nickname? Crazy Horse?” Fenix asked.

  Hacker stepped forward, drawing a buck knife, but the well-dressed man held up a hand. “Hacker’s been instrumental in collecting many debts over the years for me. I really don’t think you want to see how good he is with his tools.”

  “Yeah, I get the point, but that’s a pretty stupid name if you ask me,” Fenix said.

  Hacker twirled the knife and said, “Please give me a few minutes with this asshole, sir.”

  The man in the suit raised a hand to silence his subordinate. Hacker backed off immediately, and Fenix felt the first trickle of fear. Whoever this guy was, even the knife-toting psycho respected him.

  “So who the hell are you?” Fenix asked with furrowed brows.

  Tightening his tie, the man directed his cold, bottomless gaze at Fenix. “You can call me Mr. Redford.”

  Sandra sat on the swing on Raven’s porch. His land was
on the edge of Rocky Mountain National Park. Aspen and ponderosa trees formed a natural fence around the yard. A creek meandered along the foothills. She listened to the trickle of water and the whispering wind as it worked its way through the canopy of trees.

  Allie giggled as she chased Creek across the yard. The dog left tracks behind in the thin carpet of snow. It was getting colder by the day, and soon Sandra would be getting out her winter jacket and gloves. The thought of winter made her shiver, and she folded her arms across her fleece jacket.

  A creaking sounded behind her as the front door swung open. Raven stepped out holding a jar of tea and a plate of crackers and elk jerky. He placed them both on the table within reach of the porch swing and then took a seat next to Sandra, letting out a relaxed sigh. She tried not to look at his battered hands. Sandra suspected that he’d busted his knuckles open interrogating the man who’d shot him. Still, the nurse in her reached out to check them.

  “What am I going to do with you, Sam?” she asked.

  Raven pulled his hand back and brought his fingers up to his sheared-off ear.

  “Don’t touch it,” Sandra said. “If you get an infection, you’re going to lose the entire thing. Listen to my advice for once in your life.”

  He lowered his hand. “I never ignore your advice. I just choose to go my own path.”

  Sandra wagged her head and reached across Raven and plucked a couple of crackers off the plate. She popped one into her mouth. They were stale, but she didn’t care. They couldn’t afford to be picky about food these days.

  “You’re going to get yourself killed, and then what are Allie and I going to do?”

  “I’ve proven I can take care of myself,” he said.

  “You’ve proven you’re tough as hell, but a man can only sustain so many broken bones and bruises before he ends up in a grave. How are your ribs, by the way?”

  He patted his chest gently and shrugged. Then he hollered at Allie and Creek.

  “You guys want something to eat?”

  Sandra tried not to let her frustration bleed through, but every time her brother went on a scouting mission, she wondered if it was the last time she would see him. Now, more than ever, they needed to stick together. That’s what families did when times got tough.