WWIV - Basin of Secrets (7 page)

Unflustered, Willem began. “Men, take the boys and head them up north. Take mom and all but these two young ladies for new outfits.” He culled two younger daughters from their family.
 

Drew’s anger rose further. “Over my dead body are you going to split my family up. Whatever you have planned for us, we do as a family.” The last of his words came with spit that struck Willem’s face.

Wiping his brow clean, he stepped forward toward the now subdued Drew. “Be careful what you wish for, Drew. I have a way of making bad things happen.” Turning, he circled his finger in the air above his head. “Split them up and move them out, people. We have a schedule to keep.”
 

Drew broke free of Tarlisch’s henchmen and grabbed him from the back.
 

Spinning, Willem thrust an unseen knife deep into Drew’s chest. Inching his face closer to his foe, Willem spoke through his gritted teeth, turning the knife slightly with each word. “Starting today, the only word that matters around here is mine. No longer will anyone ever take orders from any of you. Ever again.” He pushed Drew away with his final words.
 

Falling back, blood poured between Drew’s hands from the gaping wound.
 

Tarlisch turned to address a shocked, stunned family. “Let this be a lesson to all of you. Those who are coming to live with me will do so without any argument. Those being sent away, the same.” Staring back at the others in the wagon, his voice rose. “Any act against me or any of my people will cause a family member of yours to meet this same fate. Your mothers first, then your oldest brothers, then the oldest sisters.” Turning, he faced the remaining Williamson family one last time. “I will kill you all, if you make me. Every last one of you. And there’ll be no tears shed. You’ve brought enough pain to this world to last five more generations. Be happy I haven’t just killed you instead.”

Handing the knife to Howard, he mounted his wagon. “Back home with our new family, Andy,” he said to his driver. “We’ve got a lot to get straightened out before sundown. And I want to know the location of Betsi Bond…now.” As the wagon pulled away, other family members were split apart and sent their separate ways. The body of Drew Williamson remained face down, motionless in the driveway.

In the early afternoon sunshine, Betsi and Jeremy – now Carla and Joe – stopped for their second break of the day. Quietly, with arms crossed, Betsi stepped away and looked down at their former home. From this elevation, Salt Lake looked peaceful and serene below. But she knew the real truth – Tarlisch and his gang of thugs were hard at work causing trouble. And without the militia there to protect the city and citizens, his reign would move forward unfettered.

“Bets,” Jeremy called out from behind, sitting on a large rock. “Are you mad about something? I thought we made it through the roadblocks pretty good. They hardly gave us a look, right?”

Without turning, she prepared her response. “All except you gave them your actual birthday.” Finally she spun to face her husband, her expression softening. “But that’s probably not a big deal.” She paused, still looking at Jeremy. “Hopefully,” she added in a whisper.

They passed through the first checkpoint with just names and birthdates. Having made it out of Salt Lake safely, they were shocked when they came to a second checkpoint three miles further up the road. Already into the steep climb, the guards eyed them carefully, paying special attention to the length and color of the hair under Betsi’s – Carla’s – ball cap. Once past that checkpoint, they climbed without fear of any more of Tarlisch’s traps.

Starting in again, after taking in several sips of water and a handful of sunflower seeds mixed with bits of chocolate, their legs screamed from exertion and lack of oxygen. Jeremy stared ahead at the climb still remaining and shook his head. Betsi blanched seeing her husband’s weakness on display. Wanting to stay positive, she patted his back and urged him forward, hand in hand.

By early evening, they had made the first summit of many. Shortly after a beautiful sunset-filled the western sky with varying shades of orange and pink, the pair made camp. Betsi began making a small fire to cook over and keep warm by as Jeremy set up their small pup tent.

“Remember babe,” he called out, nearly finished with his chore. “We don’t have any bags or pillows. Just one blanket each.” Rising, he stretched his sore back. “I guess we’re going to need to snuggle up pretty closely.”

Staring into the new flames, Betsi sighed. She loved her husband, but sometimes he could be such a child. Lately, he had grown whiny to her, like a little boy, always wanting his way.

He approached and sat next to her on a downed log. Reaching for her hand, she withdrew hers. “I need to get the little bit of food we have warm. You can be all lovey-dovey later.” After standing to retrieve the few items they had brought for supplies, she stopped. She knew her words were too direct, coming off callous instead of concerned. Mustering up all the reserve she could spare, she turned with a small smile. “We just really need to stay on task until we get there Jeremy. Okay?”

He met her stare and nodded. “How much further tomorrow?”
 

She frowned at his question.
 

He tried to soften the mood. “About?”

“Probably another 35 miles,” she replied. “Two hard days that means. Maybe two and a half.”

“Where are we going, by the way?”

Biting her lower lip, she crossed her arms. She knew eventually he’d have to know. “Camp Eight or Nine. One of the two. We’ll try Camp Eight first, then Camp Nine if we don’t find him at the first.” She hoped this would suffice, but she knew better.

“And they’re by?”
 

Sighing noticeably, she stared down. “Camp Eight is about 10 miles north of Heber City. Camp Nine is about 15 miles south of Heber City yet.”
 

His stunned expression said it all. “And we took the northern-most route to the southern-most camps…why?” He couldn’t help himself, she knew. There he sat, mouth hanging open, unable to understand.

“Jeremy,” she started tersely. “The southern route was the most obvious route, I’m sure Willem had more people down on that end of town.” She could see the disbelief still lingering in his eyes. She knelt to finish. “Plus, a lot of people are heading south now. With the militia fighting up north, it’s not safe there. So south was the logical place to go. That’s why we went north. Okay?”

Jeremy shrugged and looked away, past his wife. “Just seems like you’re keeping me in the dark pretty bad here, Betsi. Makes me wonder.” His eyebrows rose as his face met hers.

“Honey, listen.” She took his hands and gently kissed each one. “It’s for your safety as much as Dad’s. Okay?” After a moment, he nodded for the last time. She rose to tend the fire.

And mine, too, but you would never understand that, would you?
she thought to herself.

Running was the only way to get through the thick brush that ruled the once clear double-lane road. Betsi and Jeremy both felt the brush tear at their clothes and bare arms like a bear clawing at them. Covering their faces, they sprinted through the last thick spot of the current stretch.

“Not like the olden days,” Betsi called back once she freed herself of the last branches. “They’re like octopus tentacles, just reaching out, trying to hold us.” She stopped and admired the clear blue morning sky.
 

Jeremy stepped beside her, panting from the exertion required to get past the last 50 yards. “And to think, this used to be a wide open highway. Cars and trucks ran up and down this road all day long. And now…” he peered ahead, staring at a 10-foot tree growing in the center of the road. “Now it’s like that time never existed.”

Betsi patted his shoulder, urging him on. “Well, it has been 12 years. Remember at first? There were still some old trucks and cars on the road. Not a lot, but every once in a while.”

Picking up his pace to keep up with Betsi, Jeremy stared at a pine tree where cars once ruled. “Yeah,” he added, “but then after what? Three or four years, all the gas was gone. And look what’s happened to what man once made and maintained so well.” He spread his arms wide, pointing out more trees, large holes and the disintegrating blacktop all around them. “Now the earth is reclaiming itself.”

Betsi nodded, showing a small amount of agreement. “Okay, focus,” she called out. “This next hill is really steep, and it looks like it goes on forever.” Again, she lengthened her stride, hoping he would notice.

“How far to Camp One, Bets?” he asked, almost running to match her power walk.

Drawing a deep breath, Betsi sighed. “We’re not going to Camp One. Camp Eight or Nine. Remember?” He needed to focus.

“I was just asking,” he replied, displaying his usual easy tone. “I know the camps are numbered one through 12. And they pretty much run north to south. I was just wondering if we were close to Camp One.”

Betsi pointed left and slightly behind. “Camp One is about five miles that direction. Camp Two, if I remember correctly, is a couple miles dead east of us right now. And remember,” she added peeking back to see if he was keeping up. “Camps Eleven and Twelve are further east of everything else. They’re in the valleys out by Kings Peak. Another 30 miles or so from Heber City.”

Jeremy trotted to catch his wife. “Isn’t Camp Twelve out by Moon Lake?” She nodded, saving her breath for the steep ascent that lie just ahead. “Why so far out?”

“Safety, I suppose. Plus fresh water, wild game.” She slowed a little to allow him to keep up. For all of the walking they had done in the past 12 years, it never ceased to amaze her just how out of shape her husband remained. Gone was his beer belly from his college days – before all of this. But even lighter, he still didn’t have any stamina.

Finally, he reached out and pulled her to a stop. “Need a sip of water, babe.” Betsi reached for her bottle as well. “How do you know so much about all the camps? No one ever talked about them in Salt Lake very much.”

“My father, Jeremy. My father told me all about these camps. All about what was going on. All about where he may or may not go in case of trouble.” Her tone became sharper with each word. She leaned forward to stare into his eyes, still unfazed by her sternness.

“You really need to listen, Jeremy. You need to pay attention to everything. Okay?” He nodded once, and that made her anger rise. “You need to care about something besides that silly garden of yours in the backyard.” Standing before him, she shook her head, her eyes still fixed on his. “We need to stay alive, Jeremy. We need to get to whatever camp has Talbot Bond. He needs to be warned. Didn’t you see what they did to the council? Don’t you understand what they’ll do to my father if they find him? ”

Jeremy straightened and shrugged, looking past his wife, far into the pine forests surrounding their location. “I’m sorry, Betsi. I know I need to pay better attention. I was just making conversation so you won’t worry so much while we’re on the road. That’s all.”

Betsi turned and started into the hill. “I get it, I do. But let’s stay focused until we find my Dad, okay?”
 

“You can count on me, babe,” Jeremy called as he followed, now some 10 yards behind.

Betsi’s face tensed. She’d been meaner than she had wanted. Maybe it was the altitude, perhaps the heat. Making a mental note to curb her temper, she peeked back at her straggling husband. “I know I can, honey. Keep up now, this next part looks steep.”

Three hours later, the pair knelt in a small woodlot some 20 feet from the shoulder of the disintegrating road. Warily, Betsi watched as a group of three men and two women passed, heading the opposite direction.

“Road scum,” Betsi whispered. Shaking her head at the mangled collection of humanity, she peeked back at Jeremy, then back at the ragged group. Thoughtfully, she studied the ragged leader of the group. More distinctly, she studied the large machete he carried in his right hand.
 

“I thought the militia had cleaned out these pests. Yet here they are again, the third group of the day,” Jeremy offered.

Taking a seat in the dry leaves, Betsi sighed. “I don’t know. I thought Dad had said that, too. But I suppose…” Her eyes checked the group again to be sure they didn’t hear them whispering. “I just don’t know. You know someone once said they were like stepping on a pile of dog poop. Sure, you displace the center of the pile, but it just spreads further out in every direction.”

Jeremy chuckled and gave his wife a tiny reassuring smile. “Well, like the others, they too shall pass.”

They waited for the quintet to disappear, and gave themselves another few minutes to be sure they were really gone. Rising, they dusted the dry leaves and pine needles from one another’s pants and stepped back onto the road. Betsi felt the blacktop crumble beneath her weight. Not totally disintegrate, but just loosen, as if she were stepping on hard sand.

Jeremy’s head swiveled several directions. Raising his nose to the air, he sniffed several times. “I smell smoke, Bets.”

She sniffed the otherwise clean mountain air several times. “We might be close to Camp Three or Four. I’ve lost track exactly where we’re at anymore. Too much time cowering in the weeds I guess.” Adjusting her pack, she turned south and began walking with Jeremy on her tail.

“This is going to take longer than a day or two,” Jeremy called to her. “These roads aren’t as easy as we thought they’d be. And there’s a lot more trouble out here than we could have ever imagined.”

Betsi’s face dropped forward. He was right. She hated admitting it, but her husband was right. “We’ll just keep moving. Hopefully we’ll make good progress. But keep your eyes open and watch behind us, too. I don’t want anyone sneaking up on us.” A few more strides, and her tired legs begged for relief. This was a lot more work than she had anticipated.

The fresh air of the new day filled Cara’s lungs with freshness and her spirits with hope. She loved mornings, especially crisp, clear fall mornings. Her mind wandered slightly as she made her way from her small cabin in the front right corner of the camp and out the main gate in the center portion of the same.