Through the Storm(23)

Neal passed the gun to one of the soldiers and secured Ginger to a tree. Then, one of the privates frisked him and found the pistol in his jacket.

“Well, aren’t you well-armed?” The major examined the pistol. “Did you kill these people?”

“No!” Neal shook his head. “Of course not. I’m just trying to get home, Major.”

“Sure looked like you were trying to get away.” The major waved his hand. “Come with us.”

Neal fixed his gaze on the officer. “Am I under arrest?”

The major stepped close. “No, but the state is under martial law so not doing what I say could get you arrested, or shot.”

As they walked away, Ginger whimpered.

“What about my dog?”

“I guess freedom for both of you depends upon your answers,” the major said flatly. “Were you in the service?”

“Yes. Four years enlisted in the navy.” Neal glanced at his sad dog tied to the tree. “How did you know?”

“You got my rank right.”

Two soldiers led the hysterical brunette in the same direction. “No!” she shouted, looking back over her shoulder at the body of the man. She pushed one soldier and bit the other.

They threw her to the ground with a thud, yanked her wrists to her back and zip-tied them.

If the soldiers had wanted to kill him, Ginger, or the woman, they could have easily done so. While they were rough, and didn’t tolerate noncompliance, Neal decided that, at least for the moment, cooperation was his best choice.

The soldiers pulled the woman to her feet. Blood flowed from her nose and lip.

As he walked toward the vehicles, he held his arms away from his body. “What do you need to know?”

The major ignored the question and turned to a nearby private. “If he tries to escape, stop him but try not to kill him. I want answers.”

“Yes, sir.” The private saluted.

The major walked toward a couple of police officers.

The soldiers took Neal to the convoy. From inside the nearest truck, he heard the crazy woman laugh.

*

Kittitas County, Washington, Tuesday, September 6th

Conner and Madison biked south along a state highway that followed the Columbia River. After several hours, they lost sight of the water as the road climbed into nearby hills.

When they stopped for a rest in the early afternoon, Conner checked the map. “We’re heading southwest. I think we can be in Ellensburg by this evening.”

Madison grinned and then twitched her nose. “Is that smoke I smell?”

Conner sniffed and searched the sky. “Yeah, but I can’t tell where it’s coming from.”

They continued south and west until clouds of dark smoke hung heavy in the air, stinging Conner’s nostrils and leaving an acrid taste in his mouth. Madison led by several hundred yards, but he wished she would slow down. Clearly they were traveling toward the fire. He wanted to find another route, and his legs throbbed from pedaling.

Wondering if it might be time for a break, Conner glanced at his wrist and then remembered that he had bartered his watch with Randolph in return for the bike pump. Clouds, ranging from black and smoky to white and billowy, made it difficult to gauge time by the sun.

Ahead, Madison had stopped and dismounted in the middle of the road. That wasn’t the best place to rest, but he’d take any break available. Winds buffeted Conner as he climbed the hill to her side. Smoke brought tears to his eyes, making it difficult to see and more difficult to comprehend the sight. A towering wall of orange and red flame burned from the farmlands in the south toward them. Two dust devils of fire danced across the hills between them and the blazing wall.

Rabbits, deer, elk, foxes and coyotes raced from the dust and smoke past Conner and Madison.

“This way!” Conner pointed to a side road heading north.

She nodded and then pedaled off into the rolling clouds of smoke.

Despite the aching in his legs, Conner pedaled fast, trying to catch up with Madison. With each turn of the pedals, he fought to breathe the smoke-filled air into his lungs.

When the winds shifted, Conner caught an occasional glimpse of Madison. Each time she was farther ahead and the glimpse more fleeting. Once he thought he spotted her looking back at him but then lost sight of her in the smoke and dust.

Afraid he might be lost, Conner paused and looked at his map. The road ran straight for two miles, but then they needed to turn west. He had no way to tell Madison.

He pedaled hard and called her name. The smoke grated like sand within him. A gulp of water from his canteen cleansed his throat and he continued to pedal and shout for Madison. After a few minutes, he stopped by a road sign, pulled a t-shirt from his pack, dampened it with water, and tied it around his face. Then he gazed at the map, trying to determine his location.

A bike raced out of the smoke and nearly hit him.

“Madison,” he croaked with a hoarse voice.

She turned back to him. “I was afraid we’d missed each other.”

“No.” Conner shook his head and then drank deeply. “I’m just slower than you. My legs are sore and this bike is …”

An ember drifted to the ground and caught nearby grass on fire.

“We can’t stop here.” Madison mounted her bike. “Which way do we go?”

“There’s an intersection up ahead.” Conner pointed along the road.