It was a three-hour drive between here and there according to the old maps, the ones where the adults constantly looked and calculated time as it used to be, not how it was now. They’d argue and point at the worn paper, fold it, unfold it and point some more.
The problem was, they weren’t working on what they were accustomed to anymore. Roads were torn to shreds or blocked, and they were used to using digital equipment, something they didn’t have anymore. It was back to paper maps. That’s what he was told anyway. He’d grown up with them staring at little black cell phones, they were called. That’s where maps were then, along with a lot of other things. Then, after a time, they stopped staring into those little back boxes and found paper maps again. Those made a lot more sense to Bang anyway. You could see where you were going for a long time, instead of a little at a time.
“Did they seriously drive sixty miles an hour on this road back then?” Addy asked while pointing at an old speed limit sign along the side of the roadway. It looked as if it were affixed to its metal stand by a drunkard. Rusted through in places and barely hanging on, the sign still visibly read 60 MPH.
“Yeah, I guess so,” he yelled over the wind but needn’t have for her to hear the words. She’d listen to what she was capable of and read his lips for the rest.
Though Dalton’s oldest son, Hunter, heard his words. He’d been silent on the journey until then. Bang knew from the tone of his voice they were in for another rant. “They screwed that up for us, too.”
Addy’s eyes flashed first on Hunter glowering against the cab as he hid from the wind and then up at Bang. Because he knew she was uneasy around Hunter, Bang signed with his left hand behind his back, so that Hunter never saw the words he conveyed. “Here we go again.”
It was best to make fun of the situation but in reality, Hunter had become an unpleasant person to be around since his mother’s death. Everyone just said he was struggling. Bang wanted to yell at times, “I’ve lost two mothers! Aren’t we all struggling?” First Hyun-Ok and then Tala. His heart never stopped longing for the two of them.
Yet it was Hunter people seemed to make excuses for.
It was Graham who finally told him the truth. Bang was just stronger. It wasn’t that he could handle more; that was a lie. It was because he’d…adjusted. He’d picked himself up and dusted off and put one foot in front of the other and walked on. It was because Graham led him by example. Because he’d taken care of him in his back yard even when he had to bury his own family. Graham explained that some people were just incapable of moving on. Instead they wallowed in the pain…used it, even. None of that was good and in the end, it only soured the person from the inside out.
And looking at Hunter now, hiding from the wind while Addy took his position, proved Graham was right. The thing was, Hunter was a good shot. He had skills and that’s the only reason he was along for the ride now. But you could have the best skills in the world and still be a dick. That was the problem.
“Movement eleven o’clock!” Addy yelled over the wind, stock pressed against her cheek and scope to eye.
Hunter sprang up behind her while Bang scanned his side of the horizon. Sam drove the vehicle behind them and in one glance Bang saw his eyes widely scanning, seeking what Addy aimed for.
Bang wasn’t supposed to do this. Addy was capable—damn capable, in fact—but he couldn’t help his next action. Bang turned after clearing his side of the vehicle. “Hunter, switch.”
“It’s a damn deer,” Hunter yelled.
“No. Not there. There!” Addy yelled.
“Hunter, switch!” Bang said.
“You’re seeing things,” Hunter said.
Addy shook her head and that’s when Bang grabbed Hunter by the back of the arm and tugged him to the other side.
“Don’t touch me, bro!” Hunter yelled while pulling away.
“Get over there, Hunter.”
“There’s nothing there,” Hunter said. “She’s seeing things.”
Ignoring him, Bang watched Addy’s aim and tapped her on the arm.
Her chin jutted out slightly as she held the target and maintained her stance, knees slightly bent with the run of the vehicle. “The guy’s wearing camo. There’s a truck behind the brush. He’s prone.”
Bang looked through the scope. “I don’t see him. The scrub’s thick here.” Was he about to blow them apart? Then he spotted the truck melded into the background behind taller bushes. But why couldn’t he find him?
“Armed?”
“Yes, but I think he’s just watching us.”
Those words chilled him as he frantically scanned the ground near the truck, back and forth. “How far? Which side from the truck?” and before she said anything, his scope scrolled past him, just like that, and Bang pulled back. There he was, all blended in with the brittle honey-colored grasses, barely even there. Only the muzzle of his rifle pointed out and even that had plant matter tied to the barrel. The man’s eye, Bang noticed, was pressed to the scope, watching him watching them.
“That’s too sloppy. He wants us to know he’s there,” Bang said.
“What’s going on?” Sam’s radio crackled from the follow truck.
“We’ve got a scout…or something. Orders?” Bang asked.
“Hell, he would have blown all three of you away by now. He’s a scout. You’re sitting ducks. Don’t stop, keep going.”
“That goes both ways. Addy’s got a line on him.”
That’s when Hunter yelled, “Up ahead.” And when Bang turned, on a ridge outcropping there was a sight he never expected to see except in some of the John Wayne movies the old-timers found in the library and projected on the park screen on warm summer evenings growing up—a rare occurrence because it took the use of a generator, but memorable.
“What the bloody hell?” Hunter said.
Then the three of them had to brace themselves as the vehicle came to a sudden stop.