Revelation (Shadowmark Book 4) Read online

  Fernando shook his head. “No. We stick together.”

  Janie wondered if he was thinking of his kids as well, what would happen to them if strangers weren’t kind. She was grateful for his companionship and willingness to stick by her. Although Janie didn’t know what to do if she found the baby girl, maybe saving her would lessen the guilt that followed Janie around every waking minute.

  They postponed going into the town and trekked back up the mountain. Though they were cautious, Janie still couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. As the sun rose above the ridge, her suspicion grew. By the time they’d made their way back to the cabins, Janie’s gut felt like it was trying to turn her body inside out. She glanced at Fernando to see if he felt the same, but if the sergeant was on edge, he didn’t show it.

  They systematically searched both houses again and the surrounding area. When Janie couldn’t ignore it anymore, she returned to the trampled brush and searched beneath it. She held her breath and raised the flattened plants, revealing a bloody, meaty mass of bones. After so much damage, it didn’t even look human anymore except for the skull. Janie dropped the leaves onto the revolting sight and concentrated on not getting sick.

  She went back inside.

  “If I was going to hide my daughter, where would I put her?” she asked the empty cabin.

  Fernando stomped up onto the porch, his shoulders hunching in a way she’d never seen before. “She’s not here, Janie. Time to accept that.”

  Janie walked into the bedroom for one more look, desperate to find a clue about what had happened to this family, but he was right—nothing else to find here.

  “You didn’t find evidence of another body?” she asked.

  “No, and I’m not crazy about looking under the mother to find one.”

  Janie got it. She didn’t want to get any closer to it again than the back window. To her surprise, Fernando sighed and walked out. The next minute, he was determinedly lifting the brush off the body behind the cabin.

  Janie watched him through the window, psyching herself up to go out there and help him, mentally preparing herself for one more look at the carnage. She was just going to call to him when a brilliant white light flashed through the air.

  It hit the sergeant squarely in the chest.

  He flew back into the cabin with such force that the wall shook. On instinct, Janie raised her weapon and stepped to the side of the window, but her view was limited to the steep slope and the trunks of trees.

  Fernando whimpered, “Janie.”

  She couldn’t see the attacker. What had they hit him with?

  As she ducked and made for the front door, her training kicked in. Fernando was still alive. She could provide assistance. The urge to call for help almost overwhelmed Janie’s good sense, but there was no one to call. Just Janie. Whoever or whatever had attacked Fernando didn’t know she was there yet. She had the element of surprise.

  She had just reached the porch when Fernando screamed a blood-curdling screech that sounded like he was shredding his vocal cords.

  Janie froze. She’d heard a scream like that before, and she knew exactly what it was—the shriek of a dying man.

  For a moment, her focus slipped, and she couldn’t think what to do.

  Then, the screaming stopped, silenced.

  Janie darted back inside, tiptoeing back to the window. When she peered out, she saw Fernando’s body splayed out face first in the vegetation.

  Too late. She was too late. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

  Anger seized her, focusing her surprise and rage into something she could work with. She again flattened herself against the wall, watching for the attacker.

  Something big shook the ground just on the other side of the cabin, the boards beneath her feet trembling with the impact. Janie held her breath. If it came into view, she’d have a perfect shot.

  Seconds stretched into minutes, and with them, Janie’s impatience grew. The silence was worse than a straight-on attack. That she knew how to deal with. Waiting was unbearable.

  The rain began again, and Janie’s limbs cramped from all the adrenaline.

  Then, the baby started crying. Janie shook her head, sure this time it was some kind of hallucination. Doing her best to ignore it, she allowed herself to slide down the wall into a sitting position. From here, she would see anyone who entered the cabin. They might eventually get her with whatever weapon had taken out Fernando, but she wasn’t going down without a fight. She kept her gun pointed at the door and waited some more.

  The baby wouldn’t stop crying. With all the noise, Janie couldn’t concentrate on listening to what was going on outside. Make it stop, she thought. Please stop. The baby was dead, like its mother.

  Like Janie’s daughter, Emily.

  Make it stop.

  Something golden shifted in the trees beyond the cabin, moving in and out of Janie’s field of view so quickly she thought she’d imagined that, too. She sat up and rubbed her eyes.

  The crying grew louder, changing pitch from one of hunger to one of fear. She couldn’t stand the squalling or the waiting.

  Angry and ready for a fight, Janie heaved herself up, careful to stay out of view of the window. At the front door, she paused. She now had a one hundred-eighty degree view of the woods in front of the house.

  The crying grew louder. For the first time, Janie thought maybe she hadn’t imagined it. She took a calming breath and sprinted from the house to the cover of the trees, letting the sound guide her. To the left, away from the driveway, the ground sloped up in a small, level shelf covered in more of that waxy vegetation. She headed for it, keeping her eyes and ears peeled for the attacker.

  When she reached it, she dove into the bush, pushing her way through branches as thick as her wrist. There, on a bare patch of rock, lay a baby. Four months old, maybe.

  Wrapped in a dirty white blanket and squalling, the little girl was almost blue with cold. Janie forced her way through the branches and got a hold of her. After pulling the baby out, she hugged the terrified child to her body.

  “Shh. It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay now.”

  The little girl’s hands were freezing, but she’d stayed surprisingly dry beneath the thick layer of leaves. Janie rocked her while bundling her up tighter. Her armor impeded her body heat, so she lay the child on her lap while she removed the vest and slung it over her bag. As soon as she put the baby down, the little girl screamed again.

  Something thudded in the forest behind, and Janie grabbed the baby, turning on the spot, anticipating an attacker. Nothing was there.

  With one more glance at the house, Janie whispered, “Sorry, Fernando,” and ran off down the road.

  Chapter Two

  Mina could hardly believe she had agreed to Doyle’s plan to get information, but two hours after they had left their hiding place, he led her into a large camp nestled on the slopes between two mountains. The pair approached too quickly for Mina’s liking. She secretly wanted to sneak off into the trees and wait for Doyle to get back. She sighed heavily and pushed on. Separating from Doyle wasn’t all that appealing, either.

  “They don’t seem to care that two strangers are marching into camp,” Mina observed.

  Doyle shrugged. “They probably only keep an eye out for the invaders.”

  They approached a man wearing Army fatigues, and Doyle introduced himself.

  “Name is Jones,” the man said in response to Doyle’s cautious greeting.

  “Who’s in charge?” Doyle asked.

  “No one. We used to have a commander, but he fell during a hike and broke his neck.”

  Around them, the camp bustled with activity. People walked by loaded down with what looked like their only possessions in the entire world. One man passed them with a deer slung over his shoulder, children played around a campfire under the watchful eye of a thin, pallid man, and the sounds of axes rang throughout the valley. There must have been more people under the trees, and Mina wonde
red just how many people had gathered here.

  Preoccupied with checking out their surroundings, she had only been halfway listening to the conversation, but she turned back now to listen more carefully. Something had caught her attention.

  “Didn’t he have a second-in-command?” Doyle asked.

  “He did,” Jones replied with a slight New England accent, “but he had an accident, too.” He spat into his campfire.

  “How are you going to pick a new commander?” Doyle asked.

  Mina perked up, realizing what was different. Doyle was mimicking Jones’s speech patterns and accent. How did he do that so effortlessly?

  “We’re voting,” Jones was saying. “Got to keep democracy alive and all that.” He winked at Mina as if he had just noticed her.

  Mina stiffened, lifting her chin slightly.

  “Where can we set up camp?” Doyle asked.

  “No rhyme or reason,” Jones replied, still looking at Mina. “Not a lot of rules here since the civilians joined us. You Army?”

  Doyle nodded curtly.

  “Thought so. Where were you stationed?”

  Doyle didn’t get a chance to answer before a big, burly man hollered at Jones about chatting all day while people starved. Jones’ face turned red, and he swore under his breath. Without another word, he jogged off.

  Doyle gestured to Mina, and they began walking down the slope through the trees. No one stopped them, but a few of the men openly eyed Mina as she passed, and a couple of dogs barked and growled at Doyle. She made sure to keep close to him while they looked for a suitable campsite.

  Trash and refuse dotted the mountainside, a telltale sign this group had been there a while. Trees had been stripped of their dead limbs until only the upper branches remained. To Mina’s relief, Doyle took them halfway up the next mountain before stopping. The widely scattered campsites here offered them more seclusion than down below.

  Soon, they had a large fire burning, just in time for a chilly mountain draft to descend on them.

  “Now a fire is okay?” Mina asked.

  Doyle smirked. “Won’t matter much now. The invaders will be able to spot this camp from miles away.”

  Mina didn’t know why Doyle thought that amusing, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she fed the fire, appreciating the unexpected warmth. Despite the lateness of spring, the air smelled of snow. By the time they had eaten a meager meal of leftover smoked rabbit, the first big flakes had dusted the treetops above.

  Mina looked around at the campfires dotting the slope. Men and a few women moved under the trees, the firelight casting eerie shadows on the rocks and leaves underfoot. People sat chatting around their fires or creating snares, and Mina noted the distinct absence of hostility here. Perhaps she had overreacted before.

  Still, she worried about the Glyphs.

  Doyle, however, seemed completely unconcerned. “Even if the camp has been spotted,” he said when Mina voiced her concern, “the Glyphs are likely to bring in reinforcements. From what I’ve seen, they like to be thorough. Few people, if any, escape the burns.”

  Doyle’s disregard for the possible death of a thousand people did not reassure Mina. The sooner everyone abandoned this area, the better.

  “They should split up,” she said.

  He nodded. “This camp can’t support a group this size for much longer.”

  “How many do you think are here? A few hundred?”

  “At least. We’ll warn them as soon as we find out what they’re up to. Maybe we can tag along with a smaller band.”

  Mina didn’t like that idea, but she had agreed to follow Doyle to the camp, and the hope of finding Lincoln was too strong for her to ignore. With invaders closing in, sticking with Doyle felt like her safest option at the moment.

  Chapter Three

  The time for caution had passed. In an hour tops, Janie would reach the main road. Then, she could run even faster. Then, they’d be safe. Her feet scattered the gravel, signaling her location to anyone or anything that wanted to find her. With the baby’s squalling, all hope of secrecy had disappeared. Janie slid through the gravel and jumped over the washed-out places.

  The war followed. If she slowed down, it would catch her and send her spinning into a void she would never crawl out of. Janie pressed the baby close to her breast and kept running. Her legs began to shake, and her lungs threatened to burst. Still, Janie ran. If she saved the baby, maybe there was hope for her daughter Emily. This was Janie’s chance at redemption. She’d win the war for good.

  Once, she heard something behind her. When she turned to look, she glimpsed something yellow and a swaying tree. Whatever had attacked Fernando was hunting her. It was big, though. Janie was small and quick on her feet.

  At least that’s what she told herself.

  Finally, the gravel road widened enough for two cars. The baby had calmed to a whimper, maybe because she was now warmed by Janie’s excess body heat. The corporal was just thinking they would be okay, after all, when she saw something tall and golden-gray through the trees.

  Standing in the middle of the road, it cast a deep shadow on the forest. Its body glittered. She caught a glimpse of claws and fiery eyes before turning left into the trees.

  And then Janie did something she’d never thought she’d do. She unbuckled her straps and dropped her gear, all of it. Her helmet too, allowing a welcome draft of air onto her sweaty head. With one arm still holding the child, she dragged everything up to a fallen tree and stowed her gear against it, covering it with sticks and moss. She used her blanket to create a sling for the baby, and after making sure the kid wouldn’t slip out, she grabbed her weapons and went off-road.

  Satisfied with her quick work, Janie glanced again toward the road. The creature was gone. That made her more nervous. It was so quiet. She’d never know the monster had found her until it grabbed her from behind.

  It wants to stop me from reaching the town, she thought. It’s afraid of the Army.

  This thought sealed Janie’s resolve and made her more determined to reach safety. Abandoning the road altogether, she spent the next hour weaving through all kinds of trees and over rotted wood, heading ever downward. The baby finally slept, and again, Janie felt hopeful.

  And ashamed. She tried not to think of Fernando. If she hadn’t suggested they go back to those cabins, they’d already have rendezvoused with that unit. If only she’d insisted on looking for the kid last night.

  Janie held the sleeping child tighter and again whispered, “Sorry, Fernando.”

  By the time she reached the first side road, Janie was running on pure adrenaline. She hadn’t eaten since the morning, sure she’d burned off whatever fuel she’d had stored in the first ten minutes of her run. She passed empty house after empty house. Most were rusty trailer homes, but a few were nice modern constructions. Janie kept waiting for people to come out of them, but no one did, and she didn’t stop to find out if they were gone or simply hiding.

  She needed to report what she’d seen even though she didn’t know exactly what it was. For a moment, Janie wondered if anyone would believe her. She almost didn’t believe it herself. But something had killed Fernando. A ghost or hallucination couldn’t have done it.

  The closer she got to town, the more she looked over her shoulder. They were so close to safety. If she didn’t make it, Fernando’s death would have been for nothing. The thought spurred Janie on, giving her the last bit of energy she needed to walk into town. The houses turned to businesses, boarded up and abandoned, most with busted windows.

  The first soldier stood at the end of a street, at the intersection of the road Janie was on and the main street in town. The bright sun shone down onto the street like liquid gold. A cloud passed over it, bathing the town in bland, white light.

  Janie hailed the soldier, holding up her hands and her weapon to show she meant no harm. He motioned for her to stop and called to someone down the road.

  “Corporal Janie Crawford,” she announc
ed as he approached. The sun burst through the clouds again, temporarily blinding her.

  “Janie?” he said. “I didn’t recognize you. What happened? Where’s your gear?”

  Janie squinted in the bright light. Then she dropped her arms. “Leon Bass?”

  Leon was part of her own unit. Colonel Nash had sent him scouting in another direction with Darnell Washington, who was jogging down the street toward them.

  “Still me,” Leon said. He eyed the baby slung over Janie’s shoulder then looked behind her up the road.

  When his gaze came back to her, she shook her head. “Fernando’s gone.” Her voice broke, and she worked to keep herself in check. She didn’t have time to break down now.

  Leon turned pale.

  “How?” Darnell asked.

  “I don’t know exactly,” Janie said. “I really don’t. I’ll have to explain it all. How’d you end up here?”

  Leon recovered a little from his shock and jerked his head back toward Main Street. “Ran into a lieutenant from DC. He offered us a ride. We were on our way back to camp, actually.”

  “What’s the word?”

  “It’s as bad as we feared,” Darnell said. “Everything’s gone. The lieutenant actually came out of DC. We put up a fight, but—”

  DC wasn’t far from where Janie had sent her daughter. No, Darnell was wrong. She refused to believe what he was saying. “Everything? This town’s here. Where are the people?”

  “The town’s only half here. Come on.”

  The men walked beside Janie, leading her to the intersection where she’d first seen them. When she rounded the corner, she gasped.

  Fire had damaged more than half the buildings. A few were reduced to ash. “What happened?” she asked.

  “A few survivors were hiding out, doing a good job of it from what we could tell. Everything was okay. Then the whole town rioted about three weeks ago. Kind of went crazy without power or contact with the outside world.”

  “They set fire to their own buildings?”