Day 2 - Myrtle Beach, South Carolina
Brook helped Carl wrap their parents’ bodies in their favorite comforters. They gently placed them side by side in the tin garden shed. They barely fit into the cramped space. Their parents deserved to be buried, but considering the dire circumstances it was the best they could do.
Raven looked on, a tear making a slow descent down her cheek as the padlock clicked shut. She bowed her head thinking to herself, I just want to wake up from this nightmare, please.
“Raven,” Brook called out. “Grab your bag, we’re leaving with Uncle Carl right now!”
Snapping out of her funk, Raven did as she was told.
Carl looted his late parents’ pantry and loaded up the pearl white Cadillac Escalade. In Carl’s opinion the Escalade was too luxurious to be used off road, but it would surely make travel easier. The gussied up four-by-four had more ground clearance and there was more interior space than his car.
The Mortensons were adamant about staying in their home. “We have a full pantry, a gun and the will to stay,” Peggy said.
Brook and Carl both knew there would no persuading the couple. They said a tearful goodbye. Carl drove the Escalade, Brook rode in the front passenger seat armed with the loaded shotgun, and Raven was sitting in between them.
“We need at least one more shotgun for protection, plus more ammo for the Ithaca and a pistol if we can find one” Carl said to Brook. They had scavenged only eleven slugs and four shot shells for the Ithaca out of the drawer in the study.
It was still early so Carl decided to gamble and head for the interstate. They rounded the corner leaving the cul-de-sac and Brook let out an audible sigh. Smoke dominated the horizon from the multiple fires downtown. They left Myrtle Beach without a real plan except to somehow reunite with Cade.
They drove inland; the traffic at this hour was still light. Two Black Hawk helicopters, flanked by Apache gunships bristling with rockets under their stubby wings, roared overhead flying very low on a northern heading up the coast. If she had to venture a guess, Brook thought they must be heading to Fort Bragg. She knew those were the type of helicopters Cade used to ride in on the secretive missions Delta Force frequently undertook.
Carl was 45 years old, bald, divorced, overweight and a little out of shape. He was also a recovering alcoholic with a great wit and a jaded outlook on life. Being 6-foot-4, he struck an imposing figure. Around Raven, however, he was a big teddy bear. With Brook, Carl always played the big brother role; he was almost 10 years older than his little sister and overly protective. He had even vetted all of her boyfriends, going so far as to return to his old high school and spy on them without her knowledge. More than one of her suitors did not pass the “Carl” litmus test and were intimidated into finding someone else to date. Carl wasn’t sold on Cade at first, but upon finding out that he had volunteered to go into harm’s way for his country, his opinion instantly changed 180 degrees. The man was a great father to Raven, and Brook glowed in his presence. If there was anything he could do to help them find Cade, he was all in.