It's Darkest This Way: This Way, #4

By Travis Hill

Evan Greggs continues the twenty-three year search for his sister, Sandra, in this fourth and final installment of the "This Way" series. Armed with only his weapon, the two pictures of Sandra drawn by Luna Payne, and the information given to him by an older man who was present during the destruction of Corvallis soon after the Bulls invaded Earth, Evan prepares to journey to Helmet's stronghold near Snoqualmie. Torn between his obsession with finding his sister and remaining with his traveling companions, his love for Rebecca Collins, and the promise of electricity, running water, and safety at Base Bravo, Evan and crew must first face Little Jack's gang.

Book 1: "It's Better This Way"
Book 2: "It's Harder This Way"
Book 3: "It's Darker This Way"
Book 4: "It's Darkest This Way"

• Language: English
• Publisher: Travis Hill
• Release date: Mar 21, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393514602

Travis Hill

I'm an author in the Pacific Northwest. I live with my five completely worthless but awesome cats. I write stories I want to read that no one else is writing. My mailing list: https://www.angrygames.com Writes: Science Fiction / Fantasy / Horror / Adult Fiction / Drama / Humor

Book preview

1. The Slow Grind

Ready? I asked Rebecca after checking to make sure my assault rifle would perform flawlessly in a few hours.

Latch me, she said, turning her back toward me so I could cinch up her tactical vest straps.

Dru says when we see the big fire, they’re in place, I said as I tightened the strap.

It should create enough chaos to keep them from focusing solely on us, she said with a grunt. But it might screw up our night vision.

We’ve got proper scopes, I said, letting my hands roam around her waist.

The rattle of her braids as she turned her head to scowl at me made me smile. It was a sound I hadn’t realized I’d missed until I started hearing it again on a regular basis. She tried to stop my roaming hands but gave up after a few seconds. I grabbed her hips and spun her around to face me.

We shouldn’t become so dependent on Bull tech, she said, doing her best to pretend I was more annoying than suggestive. We—

Yeah, yeah, I said, grinning at her fierce snarl for interrupting her. What would we do if we spent all our time with Bull tech then suddenly had none? I asked, repeating the question she’d tried to drive home repeatedly to everyone over the two weeks since we’d met up in Woodland.

I’m not sure I like your tone, Evan.

My bad, I said with a chuckle. I know you hate when I imitate you.

You make me sound like Bigfoot had a baby with a mutant, she grumbled. That doesn’t even cover the fact that I’m right.

Yes, Mother, I said, receiving another hateful but (hopefully) loving scowl. You’re right. No one disagrees with you on that. I kissed her then pulled back. But without those modified scopes, we’d likely be rotting in a field somewhere while Little Jack and his crew moved on.

Lover’s quarrel? Dru asked when she stopped near us to gear up for our ambush patrol.

I wasn’t sure I liked the snide tone I heard in her voice, but I kept it to myself. Dru and Rebecca had been on professional but uneasy terms since the day Rebecca slugged me a few times at Rhonda’s family’s homestead. I’d caught Dru giving Rebecca—and me when she thought I wasn’t looking—nasty looks since then. I hoped it wouldn’t become a problem, but for the moment, we had more important worries to focus on.

She’s just going on about how we’re getting too dependent on Bull tech, I said, hoping to make light of the situation so there wouldn’t be any awkward exchanges between the two women—or me, as I was as likely to step up and side with either woman should the other push into fighting words territory.

Dru nodded her head then ignored us. Rebecca cocked her head and gave me a questioning look. I shook my head then kissed her on the mouth. Tony and Private Tennyson arrived together and began to help each other with their gear. I almost snickered at the way the two men pretended they hadn’t just spent the last hour or two fooling around in private away from our small camp.

Sergeant Draper is sure Little Jack is going to stay east on U.S. 12 after Morton, Tennyson said after adjusting his midnight black coat.

Shit, Private Madison said from my left. The kid was almost as sneaky as Dru.

Why shit? Rebecca asked.

It goes up into Mt. Ranier National Park area, Madison answered. Rough terrain, bad weather, tons of hidey-holes, unfriendly residents, and so forth. He looked around at everyone staring at him. I grew up in the area, he said, embarrassed to be the center of attention.

They still have superior numbers, Tony said, vocalizing a worry that all of us had since the day we decided to snuff Little Jack and his gang out.

The fact that Little Jack’s gang had at least fifty, maybe as many as one hundred prisoners, almost all female, galvanized the ten of us to do everything we could short of dying to free them. We were too far from Bremerton to run into regular Warthog patrols, and by the time we got a messenger to Kendra and help arrived, Little Jack would have linked up with Helmet near Snoqualmie. We’d terrorized and picked off at least sixty of Jack’s men, but they still outnumbered us at least seven to one.

If we can knock them out before we get too far past Randle, then we’re good, Madison said. It’s mostly flat through there. But if not, the valley narrows, and once they’re near Cascade Peaks, it’s going to be impossible for us to do anything but stay a few miles behind them. There’s no way to get around them unless we’re prepared to climb mountains.

Luck has been with us so far, I said, receiving a chorus of groans from the others and a light punch to the sternum from Rebecca for jinxing us.

***

We’d spent the first night of our reunion a few miles from Woodland in an abandoned house. Other than the dried blood and a few dozen bullet holes in the outer walls and windows, it was safe, dry, and mostly comfortable. Rebecca acted luke-warm toward me for the first week, but she let me spoon her each night, and we always fell asleep without doing more than a short attempt at fondling each other. I could sense that she was ready to plunge head-first into her feelings for me now that her anger was finally dissipating. It helped that we had shadowed Little Jack’s gang for the last ten days, and had been murdering as many of them as we could before melting into the background of thick pines and increasingly steep hills.

A week ago we notched our first kills thanks to Tennyson’s skill as a sniper, though firing into a knot of humans with a well-maintained assault rifle had also raised the count. Our gang of ten took out at least eight of Little Jack’s men that first night from at least five hundred meters thanks to our scopes and Little Jack’s confidence that his numbers—more than one hundred men by our multiple counts over the days we’d shadowed them—would keep any and all fools from attacking them. We had no idea of the actual number of Little Jack’s men we’d permanently silenced, but our best guesses all agreed that he was down almost one-third of his starting strength.

Little Jack was no fool himself, and had survived two decades after the invasion by being smart enough to learn hard lessons before they became fatal lessons. After the third night, when he realized his ghostly attackers were drawn to knots of his men standing around fires or eating in groups, he ordered everyone to keep a few feet apart whenever possible. Tennyson still made them pay dearly, but it had the desired effect of making it much harder for the rest of us to do more than make Jack’s men run for cover when the shooting started. Our group had excellent weapons, but only Tennyson had a rifle made for distance shooting.

Dru and Private Madison, on the other hand, kept Jack’s men terrified of the dark during the quiet hours when we weren’t shooting at them from a quarter mile away. The two were supremely skilled at slipping inside Little Jack’s perimeters and taking out a patrolling guard or two each night, and they even had a bit of a contest going as to who could rack up the most kills with their knives. Madison was in the lead after taking a huge risk and wiping out an entire tent two nights earlier, netting six notches on the leather strap that kept his Bowie knife secured to his right leg. It was risky, but at the same time, it forced Little Jack to keep changing his defenses to try and counter us.

Dru, Madison, and Private Kyrzchek had gotten into a heated argument with Rebecca and Sergeant Draper when Rebecca commanded them to ignore the prisoners and focus on killing as many of Little Jack’s men as possible. Dru was especially furious, and argued that with each attack, she and Madison could free at least one or two of the women and bring them back to our camp. I hated Rebecca’s rebuttal even though she was one hundred percent correct. While it was a positive that we could free a few women each night, the reality was that we had no extra food, clothing, or bedding for them, nor any weapons beyond a spare knife or pistol. More importantly, all of us knew that the women we would be rescuing were likely to be almost paralyzed with fear and would scream, run away, or refuse to stay put when we set out each night to assault Little Jack’s camp. It was even less likely that any of the rescued would be proficient with a gun—or in a state of mind to use it under pressure. Then there was the distance involved, which negated the use of the few spare sidearms we could give them.

I thought Dru might try to start a fistfight with Rebecca at one point, but she backed down after Rebecca explained that we simply couldn’t manage a continuous mobile assault on an armed force with superior numbers while trying to babysit a dozen or more traumatized women. We were in an all-or-nothing mode, and that meant we would either completely eliminate Little Jack and his men, force them to give up and abandon their human spoils of war, or we would be wiped out to a person. If we were wiped out, all the women we rescued would simply be recaptured, and knowing Little Jack and his gang of murderous, brutal scum, they would be punished severely, made examples of to cow the others even further. I could tell Dru wanted to push the argument harder, but I also knew she was smart enough to understand that with only ten of us and at least seventy enemies left, the odds weren’t with us.

My own need to simply bypass the entire affair and continue my search for Sandra ate away at me daily, but I had to be sure she wasn’t one of the prisoners we were attempting to free. Tennyson had done his best to help ease my mind. He spent a few hours each day holed up in a blind, passing his rifle’s powerful scope over each and every prisoner, but every evening when he returned, I could tell that he hadn’t spotted her. I showed him the before and after portraits Luna had drawn for me each afternoon before he set out, just to keep Sandra’s face fresh in his mind, but we both knew it was unlikely that she would stand out enough for him to recognize. Every woman under the control of Little Jack was bound, dirty, and most of the ones I’d seen through his scope looked wild… almost feral.

After the first few nights of shadowing Jack’s gang, I understood perfectly why they all resembled wild, untamed animals. Just because Little Jack had them on the move didn’t mean his or his men’s cruel delights were put on hold. Dru came to me after the third round of our nightly assaults, her eyes dry but red, as if she’d cried out every last tear in her body. To hear her describe the cries of pain from some of the tents where Jack’s men raped or beat—usually both—the prisoners after setting up camp broke my heart into thousands of pieces. Dru herself was a black hole in terms of emotions for a few days, barely speaking to any of us. I knew she hated herself for being unable to stop whatever tortures and terrors the women were subject too, and I did my best to calmly explain that she had made the right choice by not attempting to end the women’s suffering by intervening. Dru’s life was worth more than almost any others, in my opinion, as she was our most capable asset when it came to murder and subterfuge. It wasn’t a surprise that she blew up on Rebecca and Draper when ordered to stand down and not risk capture or death by sneaking deep into the center of Little Jack’s camp to annihilate the rapists having their fun.

***

Something’s up, Sergeant Draper whispered after Rebecca and I slid into a small depression next to him.

What? Rebecca asked.

Tennyson says we either killed a lot more of them than we realized, or they’ve dispatched a sizable group to either go for help, or hunt us down.

We’re still a ways from Helmet’s stronghold, or whatever he rules over, I said in a low voice.

Agreed, Draper said with a nod of his head. Which means they’re likely on the move to try and flank us.

Shit, Rebecca whispered, shaking her head. The soft rattle of her beaded braids were barely audible. We have to abandon tonight’s run.

Probably a good thing, Colonel, Draper whispered. We’re getting dangerously low on ammunition.

And food, I added.

And we’re no closer to breaking them, Rebecca agreed. We’ve killed a lot of them, but there’s just too many. She glanced over at me, then gripped my hand. I’m sorry, Evan. We need to backtrack and get help from the Warthogs.

Fuck that, I said, snarling without meaning to. That’s a week at least, then another week to get back here, but Little Jack will be long gone by then, so add another week to get to Snoqualmie.

If that’s even where they are going, Draper muttered.

Not to mention that his fifty or seventy or however many fuckers are still alive on his team will join up with however many men Helmet has, I said.

I know, Evan, but… Rebecca trailed off. I could see the indecision on her face, even in the fading daylight and the heavy shadows of the forested hillside. But if they pincer us or force us into a gauntlet of their choosing, it won’t end well for us. We’re good, professional even, but ten versus fifty or more when they have the upper hand by bringing the fight to us instead of hunkering down like they’ve been doing each night…

I know, I hissed. I shook my head and squeezed her hand again. I’m sorry. But this is fucked. I can’t walk away now. Not unless I know for sure Sandra isn’t down there. What if she is and we bail, but she’s killed by the time we return? Or—

What-if games are pointless, Rebecca said softly. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but you know as well as I do that Little Jack has the advantage, and we can’t get caught between two groups of his men, especially since both of those groups are far larger than ours.

I know, I said, this time with less anger.

I hated that she was right. I hated that I still wanted to run down the hillside, gun blazing, murdering everyone who got in my way until I found Little Jack and made him pay for his long list of crimes. I felt Rebecca’s hand tighten around my wrist, as if she could read my mind and had braced herself to stop me from my suicidal rush.

Don’t worry, I said, kissing her on the cheek. "I’m not that stupid."

You’ve got that look in your eyes, she said. Come on, let’s go find Tony and Kyrzchek. She turned to Draper. Go get Dru and Madison. Tenny, you round up Spider. We’ll meet back at camp and make our way back to I-5.

We found Tony Galliardi and Private Kyrzchek ten minutes later. Both had hidden themselves so thoroughly that Rebecca had to use a bird call to alert them that we were near. Both looked worried when we told them that Jack’s gang had split. Fifteen minutes later, with the sun below the Cascades to our west, we arrived back at camp. Tony nodded in our direction, then snagged Spider’s arm before he could bolt toward us. I chuckled at first, always amused at Spider’s awkward teenage mannerisms around the rest of us, but the chuckle died in my throat when I saw his expression wasn’t one of happiness to see me again.

Okay, kid, since you’re dying to tell them, go ahead, Tony said once we were gathered around the remains of last night’s campfire.

There’s a big gang of Little Jack’s men headed south, Spider said, his words rushing out to the point he had to gulp for breath. I counted at least twenty, but there might be twenty-five, maybe more, but definitely twenty for sure.

Okay, Spider, Rebecca said gently, taking his hand in hers. Take a deep breath.

I’m sorry, Ms. Collins. Uh, I mean, Colonel. Ma’am. He shook his head as if to clear away the confusing, racing thoughts that were bouncing around inside his skull. But they’re all armed, long guns, no prisoners. Just, uh, soldiers.

They’re not fuckin’ soldiers, Kyrzchek said, then spit in the ashes. Fuckin’ rapist murdering goddamn—

Enough, Sergeant Draper said, but without much force. We all felt what Private Elaine Kyrzchek felt, which was an overwhelming hatred for the men we had been chasing—and killing—for the last two weeks.

Sorry, Sarge, Kyrzchek said. But they’re not soldiers.

Anyway, Spider continued, glancing at Kyrzchek as if asking permission to interrupt her. She gave him a sly smile. They’re going south, down Highway 131.

131? Collins asked. They’re not swinging south to come back west to get behind us?

If they are, they’re taking the long route, Madison said. Plus there’s the Cowlitz River to cross, and as far as I can remember, the only bridge that exists is on Highway 131. Once they go over the river, they’d have to swim or boat across it again to come in behind us.

Well, I followed them for a while, then got to high ground and used the scope to look south. I knew you guys weren’t coming up that way, but, you know, why else would they split off and go that way? He noticed most of us watching him, impatient expressions on our faces. Most of the time it was endearing to listen (and watch) him stumble over words when reporting to one of us, but we didn’t have time for it at this moment. Thankfully, he seemed to understand, and straightened up and took a deep breath. Right. They’re not chasing you guys. There’s someone else coming up 131.

Bulls? I asked.

No, unless Bulls make a campfire or whatever. There’s smoke coming from the south. But not ‘burning building’ type of smoke. Like a campfire. But maybe bigger than ours.

Whoever it is, they’re either idiots for making that much smoke, or they’re clueless as to who is in the area, Dru said.

Were you able to see the others? Rebecca asked.

No, it was too far away even with the scope, Spider answered. I could just see smoke rising. And Little Jack’s men marching toward it.

Shit, Rebecca grumbled.

What do you think, Colonel? Sergeant Draper asked.

We could use this distraction to make a dent in the main camp’s numbers, Dru suggested.

They still outnumber us by a lot, Draper countered. We should head south and intercept the secondary gang before they kill or kidnap whoever made the smoke.

What if the smoke people are just more of Little Jack’s men? Madison asked. And the gang on 131 is going down there to link up and bring them around behind us?

Shit, Rebecca muttered again. Evan?

Fuck, I don’t know, I said. It’s like the old question of do I shoot my mom or dad? We’re too small to split up. We have no idea who the smoke people are. However, we might be able to knock out most of the twenty in Jack’s gang. Two-to-one odds against them are a lot better than five-to-one if we stick with the original plan and hit the main camp.

This isn’t a democracy, Rebecca said, turning her gaze on the nine of us gathered around her. But I’d like to hear what everyone has to say as to which way we should go from here.

2. Surprise Meeting

We unanimously voted to go after the gang of twenty heading down Highway 131. Rebecca once again reiterated that we were not a democratic group, but I could hear the relief in her voice that everyone was onboard with the plan to abandon our harassment of the main gang to deal with the smaller group heading south. I was torn between the two choices. Leaving as many as one hundred bound, powerless women to the machinations of Little Jack and his men for a few days without fear of nightly reprisal wasn’t exactly something to be shrugged off as unimportant. According to Dru and Madison, even with our nightly attacks, plenty of the prisoners were still raped or abused in some way.

At the same time, the people coming north on Highway 131 were in grave danger, even if they had equal numbers to Little Jack’s squad heading south to intercept them. Little Jack’s gang would probably have the upper hand and ambush them, and even if the smoke people triumphed in that fight, Jack’s main camp would slaughter the survivors. And of course, absorb the women who weren’t killed into his flock.

We moved as quickly and quietly as we could south through what had once been farm fields. Dru and Madison led, both of them even deadlier under the cover of darkness. We took a chance and bolted across the bridge that spanned the Cowlitz River, thankful that Little Jack’s men hadn’t left behind a trailer. Once across, we stayed a quarter mile to the west of 131 as we continued south. Within two miles, we passed by where Little Jack’s men had stopped for the night at the edge of the thick forest and low hills. Rebecca ordered everyone to keep heading south, with Dru leading us around a small hill before winding back to the road.

Rebecca finally called a halt to our travels once the hills became much steeper on either side of the road. The forest had also become almost impenetrable thanks to twenty-four years of unchecked growth with no humans around to either cut the trees down, or burn them down, which seemed to be a common thing no matter where I went in my travels. We bedded down for the night, with three rotating shifts to patrol the immediate area in case either group decided to investigate the spot we’d chosen. My shift was uneventful, other than the impressive number of heat signatures from the forest’s wildlife. I worried for a few minutes when I was sure I had a bear in my scope, but it turned out to be nothing more than a fat moose that thankfully wandered away from our camp.

By the time the sun brightened enough of the sky to see more than a few feet in front of our faces, we were up and eating a quick, cold breakfast after packing our gear. Dru had just started south to lead us toward the unknown group when Madison came running from the north, where he’d been scouting just to keep an eye on Little Jack’s men. Spider sped off to catch Dru, and within minutes, we gathered around Madison to hear what he had to say.

They’re on the move already, he said. They must have started walking an hour ago. If we sit still, they’ll be here within thirty, maybe forty minutes.

We don’t know how much farther south the other group is, Rebecca said, more to herself than anyone else. She frowned then turned to Tennyson. Tenny, find yourself a perch that overlooks the road. Dru, you and Madison loop back around and get behind these assholes, but be careful when the shooting starts. She focused on Druscilla. "I’d be extremely upset if you died from friendly fire. She tilted her head slightly. From any fire.