Chapter 54

 

Tara had her hand raised against the glare of the bright landing lights as she approached the helicopter. She couldn’t make out any details behind the windows, so she had no idea who was aboard. Seconds after the helicopter had flared and kissed the road under the steady hand of the pilot, a door on the left side opened and a figure emerged. The figure closed the door, hustled around the noisy craft’s rounded snout, and ran to meet Tara and Shorty. Given the helmet and olive-green flight suit, Tara wasn’t surprised she didn’t recognize the person.

As the figure closed the distance, Tara saw that the flight suit was filled out in certain places a man’s physique didn’t reach. She saw the nametape on one rounded breast: Rhoads. Though the person wore a flight helmet that covered most of the face, the smooth features and ready smile was all woman.

The woman’s eyes were narrowed against the flying debris. Affixed to the helmet up front was a pair of four-tube night vision goggles. Tara knew what they were only because Lee had expressed interest in getting a pair or two of them.

The word Country was painted on the side of the helmet facing Tara.

She thought, Country Rhoads … cute call sign.

“Sarah,” said the woman, extending a gloved hand and shouting to be heard over the thrashing rotors. “This way. Follow me.”

Rhoads led the pair to a door on the helicopter’s right side, hauled it open, and ushered them both inside.

Rhoads helped them to seats and set them up with headsets. From her front-facing seat on the left side of the cabin, Tara had a clear view of the pilot and a partial view of Rhoads. Aglow in the landing light spill and visible from the massive window to her left was the road and shoulder and the twenty-foot run of barbed wire fence bordering the road.

A bulb inside the roomy cabin cast three seated figures in its dim red light. Tara immediately recognized Steve-O. He was sitting opposite her, back to the bulkhead, and grinning like a fool.

The other two were the pair Benny had mentioned over the two-way radio. Lia was the “twenty-something-white girl,” her lithe body draped in expensive-looking cold-weather running attire. Contradicting the tight-fitting ensemble were the muddy Nike trail runners on her feet. Propped against the seat next to the young woman was an exotic-looking rifle. Tara didn’t know anything about her save for her first name, general age, and that Lee had seen something special in her. Benny had said as much.

If the chick knew her way around a firearm, Tara decided, then she definitely belonged on Team Riker.

Sensing the scrutiny being directed her way, the younger woman nodded and flashed Tara a warm smile.

The other person was lean and sinewy and in Benny’s words, “pushing seventy.” He had said his full name and reached a hand out to Tara when introduced. For a man more than twice her age, Vern Rossi had a helluva firm grip. Even in the red glow, she could tell the man’s clean-shaven face was tanned. Smile lines bracketed deep-set hazel eyes. Noting the squared-off jaw and picket of straight teeth, Tara thought to herself: No way this dude is pushing seventy.

Gotta hand it to, Lee, she mused. Always did have a penchant for bringing home strays. But five in one day? Better call Guinness because this was a new record.

The pilot in the right seat craned around and met Tara’s gaze. It was Clark, the charter pilot who’d whisked her, Steve-O, and Lee to upstate New York in a helicopter much nicer than this. Lee had heard from him earlier in the week but only half expected him to show.

At least all the hard work spent widening the clearing had not been in vain, Tara thought as she nodded and flashed a thumbs-up. A beat later Clark’s voice sounded in her headset. “We meet again. I only wish it were under better circumstances.”

“Me too,” replied Tara.

“Where do you think they took your brother?”

Tara looked to Shorty, who was next to her and listening to the conversation over his headset. He gestured toward the cockpit, saying: “Lee broke squelch one last time before he went radio silent. We had agreed one click for right. Two for left. I’m confident he hung a right here at the T.”

Tara said, “I wish I could help. But I got nothing but snippets of things I overheard. They were pretty careful with what was said around me.”

As soon as Rhoads was buckled into the left seat and had her NVGs parked in front of her face, the turbines roared and the helicopter launched into the night sky.

Still smiling, Steve-O said, “I’m glad you’re OK, Tara.” He paused. The smile faded. He asked, “Is Lee going to be OK?”

“He’s in my prayers,” she said. “Best put him in yours.”

 

Dipping the bird’s nose, Clark said, “Can you tell me what we’re looking for? Maybe a description of the vehicle associated with the people who took your brother?”

Tara looked to Shorty. He said, “Gray older model pickup. Chevy, I think. It had a camper shell with a bike rack on back—”

Interrupting, Tara said, “The camper shell is tall and dirty white… almost yellow. And there’s a big ass decal of a cartoonish caveman holding a club. It’s on back beside the door.”

Vern broke into the conversation, adding: “Tara was taken captive five hours ago. Considering all of the back and forth trips it took to abduct her and Lee, plus the roundtrip to bring her back to where they dumped her, the place they’re staging from has got to be fairly close.”

Shorty said, “Vern’s got a point. With all the roadblocks and biters south of the Rikers’ place, I have a hard time believing the dirtbags would establish a base anywhere near Santa Fe.”

Tara leaned forward. Making eye contact with Shorty, she said, “The older man wanted Lee’s leg left alongside my dead body. I’m willing to bet every ounce of gold we have that he plans on dumping Lee back here when he’s done with him.”

Lia said, “Which means they’re probably still somewhere close.”

Shorty said, “The kid showed you mercy on his own accord?”

Tara said, “I’m alive and kicking. I said maybe five words the whole time. So it was nothing I did. That’s for sure. After I got hit with the shocky thing … stun gun or whatever, they gave me something similar to a date rape drug.” She shook her head. “I was completely out of it right away. The couple of lucid moments I did have, I was talking gibberish. Don’t recall any other details other than what I mentioned already. I think I was dosed again right before I was dumped on the road where I woke up.”

As the helicopter leveled off a couple hundred feet above the road, Clark came on over the shared comms. “I’m thinking we follow the road out ten or fifteen miles. Along the way, we’ll make note of all the roads branching out left and right. We double back either east or west, we can decide which direction when we get to our turnaround point. I’ll have our return leg take us over ground on the side of the road with the most feeder roads branching into it. I’ll fly a grid pattern until we see something or rule out that particular side as viable.”

“That would be a good strategy,” Lia said. “If all of us had a pair of those night-vision goggles.”

Clark said, “Just keep on the lookout for light on the ground below. You’d be surprised how easily your eye picks it up. See something, say something.”

Keeping her eyes glued to the spotlight-lit road scrolling by down below her window, Tara said, “Do you have a plan? Any idea what we’re going to do when we find them?”

Clark said, “I’ll keep the bird tracking the same course and maintain a steady speed until we’re well past the sighting.”

Vern said, “Smart. Then turn back and recon from a standoff position.”

“Exactly,” Clark said, “Country can put the FLIR on them. We pick up some hotspots, human forms, heat from an engine block … we put down at a safe distance and approach the place on foot.”

“I’m going, too,” Steve-O said. “Lee needs all the help he can get.”

Tara said, “I wouldn’t dream of asking you to stay behind, Steve-O.” With seven bodies in the helicopter, it was beginning to get warm. She unbuckled only long enough to shrug off her parka. Regarding Steve-O, she went on, “You saved our butts more than once since we met in Indiana. You’re part of Team Riker and have the ink to prove it.”

Shorty said, “Did I bring the wrong coat?”

Tara shook her head. “I’m sweating like a whore in church. Might be the drugs wearing off. Plus, if I need to move about in the dark without making noise, ain’t going to happen in that stiff ass thing.”

Clark said, “Five miles in. Ten to go.” He was keeping the helicopter at a height where the spotlight illuminated both sides of the road, plus about ten or so feet beyond the guardrails paralleling the road. Even clipping along at sixty miles per hour, a break in the white steel barrier would not go unnoticed.

Sadly, Tara hadn’t seen a single road branching off of her side. Looking to Lia, she asked, “You see anything yet?”

Wearing a pained look, Lia said, “One dirt track. It was overgrown as hell, though. Didn’t look recently traveled.”

Vern was strapped in next to Shorty. He leaned over and craned to see out the window being crowded by Lia. “I used to ride dirt bikes out here. If my memory serves, there are a couple of improved roads on your side. One shoots off to a campground. It’s about a mile in. There’s also an old mining operation a couple of miles past that. Me and my boy used to go shoot there.”

Shorty said, “The second road? Where does it go?”

“A few private residences. The Gymptegards’ place is closest to the highway. It’s about a mile or two back. An old two-story. Someone’s homestead way back. The rest are mobile homes. You know, those single-wide aluminum-skinned jobs.”

As Clark said, “Ten miles,” Lia saw the first improved road. It was a two-lane that shot straight for a few yards, then snaked off to the left, disappearing into the dark void. Getting Tara’s attention, Lia said, “Just saw a paved road. Looked promising.”

Tara nodded but didn’t make eye contact. Good thing, too, because on her side she noticed another road branching off the main highway. It was narrow and paved, with a mailbox on a post planted in the dirt just off the narrow shoulder.

She made a mental note in case Rhoads had somehow missed it.

Sure enough, Vern’s memory had served him well. The road to the Gymptegards’ homestead became visible outside Lia’s window at the exact moment Clark came over the comms to inform everyone they had just reached the fifteen-mile mark.

Lia said, “There’s another good prospect on my side.”

Vern tapped his head. “I still got it up here.”

Tara said nothing. She was focused on the landscape outside her window, disappointed they’d seen so few roads to follow. In fact, she was about to insist they stretch the northern leg of the search another five miles when the Lakota slowed substantially and started a gentle turn to the right. As the craft came perpendicular with the road below, she saw, far off in the distance, a halo-like bubble of white light. It was near to the ground and wasn’t flickering like a campfire might.

She blurted, “I see something,” and started stabbing a finger at her window.