Perseverance

  FERAL NATION

  Perseverance

  Feral Nation Series

  Book 5

  Scott B. Williams

  www.scottbwilliams.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and events are all products of the author’s imagination and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Scott B. Williams

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  Cover design © Scott B. Williams

  Editor: Michelle Cleveland

  03.06.19

  This series is an ongoing serial. Each book is an immediate continuation of the earlier story, so for the best reading experience the books should be read in order, starting with Book 1.

  Here are the links to the current books in the series:

  Feral Nation - Infiltration: Book 1

  Feral Nation - Insurrection: Book 2

  Feral Nation - Tribulation: Book 3

  Feral Nation - The Divide: Book 4

  Feral Nation - Perseverance: Book 5

  These links will be updated as new books are added to the series. Be the first to know what’s coming next in this series as well as my other books by signing up for my New Release Updates

  One

  THE SILENCE VICKY WOULD never get used to returned to the desolate ranch as soon as Eric was gone. The utter quiet out here was like nothing she’d ever experienced. It hung over the valley with an intensity that was palpable, and had been with her day and night, broken only by the wind whispering through the pines in the afternoon and the occasional yip of coyotes in the night. The stillness was always worse in the mornings, the silence virtually a vacuum that threatened to suck even her thoughts into nothingness. With no sounds of life nearby, either animal or human, Vicky had never felt so alone in her life. It didn’t help at all that the shallow graves of her recently-deceased grandparents were just a stone’s throw away from where she sat, alone there in the barn.

  Situated as it was in such a remote part of the Colorado Rockies, the ranch was always a quiet place compared to the cities and towns where Vicky had spent most of her life. Too far from any highway to hear even distant sounds of traffic, the isolation of this place had seemed peaceful and inviting all those years before, during her summer breaks here visiting her grandma and grandpa. And after all that had happened in recent months, the ranch seemed even farther removed from the outside world than ever. Of course, that was why she and her friends came here to begin with; to escape the life that had fallen apart around them. Their hope was that it would be a safe refuge from the violence and confusion that had consumed every place where there were large numbers of people. Things hadn’t worked out here as well as she’d hoped, though, and until the arrival of a lone stranger just yesterday, Vicky had been utterly alone for days, wondering how she would possibly survive on her own and with nothing.

  She knew the silence would be back to haunt her as she stood watching Eric Branson jog up the gravel road until he was lost from her view, the sounds of his boots shuffling in loose rocks finally fading away in the distance. When he’d arrived, Vicky had no idea who he was, and she was afraid he would kill her or worse if he saw her. Fortunately, she’d been near the barn the afternoon before when she first spotted him out among the pines between the ruins of the house and the road. She had ducked inside and watched through a knothole in the weathered siding as he approached, noting that he was very careful, stopping often to look and listen, as if he were expecting to run into an ambush or something. He looked ready for it if he did too, sweeping the area before him with the muzzle of a menacing weapon Vicky knew was some kind of machine gun. It was normal though for people of both the good and the bad sort to go about armed these days; anything less was simply foolish in such dangerous times. Knowing that, she understood that the man’s cautious approach did not necessarily make him a bad guy, but she knew too that present circumstances made most everyone an opportunist. Survival demanded it, and she figured he’d seen the driveway leading in from the road and decided to come and see if there was anything of use to be found here.

  Vicky hoped the man would go away when he saw that the house had been burned, but that discovery only seemed to pique his curiosity. After snooping around the blackened rubble, he spotted the two graves in what had been her grandparents’ backyard. Vicky had found it difficult to dig into the hard, rocky ground there, and in fact the bodies were only partially buried. After doing the best she could, she’d worked for hours covering them with the largest stones she could gather and carry from nearby, piling them on until she was exhausted. She hoped her efforts would dissuade the carnivorous scavengers that she knew were around.

  The stranger crouched near the two rock piles as if to study them, but they didn’t hold his attention for long. The barn was the only structure still standing on the place, so Vicky wasn’t surprised that he turned his attention to it next. She wanted to run but doing so would put her out in the open before she could reach the surrounding forest. The man would see her, and she’d be an easy target for his rifle if he chose to shoot. She also considered climbing up into the loft, but she already knew there was no good place to hide up there and she would be cornered if he went up to investigate, which he probably would if he entered the barn at all. She opted instead for the pile of loose hay where she’d been sleeping near the back entrance, digging her way into it and curling into a ball before gathering more of it over her body like a blanket. She barely had time to settle in and quiet her breathing before she heard the man walk inside and stop, no doubt scanning the dark interior for any sign of life. Her heart pounded as he passed close to the hay pile. Was she really completely covered? Did he already know she was in there?

  But when he turned away and she heard him climb the creaky ladder to the loft, she knew she’d made the right decision. He would have found her up there for sure, and she wasn’t taking any chances that he might still discover her in the hay when he came back down. She decided to make a run for it while he was up there out of sight, and she would have gotten away with it too, if she hadn’t accidentally knocked over a stupid board leaning against the wall, making a huge racket that betrayed her presence.

  Vicky heard the man jump to the ground as she bolted, and she fully expected to feel his bullets rip through her back as she sprinted for the nearby trees. But instead, she’d been stopped in her tracks by the single word he shouted: MEGAN! This stranger had called her by her best friend’s name! Somehow, he thought she was Megan, but how did he even know Megan? She turned around to face him so that he could see that she wasn’t, and then in the following moments of confusion, it sunk in that he was telling her he was Megan’s dad! When he said his name was Eric Branson, Vicky had to believe him. He completely fit the description of the man Megan told her about—old enough to be her dad but lean, fit and dangerous—a Special Forces soldier who had spent his career fighting wars all over the world.

  Megan seldom saw him, but she’d said he might come back to the U.S. now that there was a war to fight at home. She didn’t think he would come because of her, but now Eric Branson was telling Vicky otherwise. Megan was the reason he was back, and he’d crossed half the continent with great difficulty to get to Colorado, where he’d hoped to finally find her. Vicky hated to be the one to disappoint him, but she had to tell him the truth of what little she knew of Megan’s whereabouts. Her father’s search unfortunately wasn’t going to end here at her grandpa’s ranch, no matter how much he’d hoped it would be s
o. That was when Vicky learned from him that Megan’s mother was involved too, and that Eric had found a note from her stating that she and their friend Jonathan had headed here before him. The two of them had left Boulder based on information that Megan had fled the university campus with some of her friends, one of whom had grandparents living on this remote mountain ranch. Vicky told Eric that was her, and that they had all come here, but not before a lot of other things happened first. And then a lot more had happened since. Megan had left before the worst of it, and Vicky had no way of knowing how far along on her journey she was. Vicky told him she was the only one remaining here and that the two graves he’d noticed contained the remains of her grandparents.

  She told Eric she’d had no idea what she was going to do next or how she was going to survive before he showed up. The barn was the only shelter still standing on the property, and though it didn’t block all the cold wind that swept down the valley, it kept her out of the open and sleeping in the hay provided enough insulation to keep her from freezing to death at night. She had little left to eat, however, and she’d known for days that if her luck didn’t change, she was going to starve if she didn’t figure something out. But Eric’s arrival did change her luck. He’d given her food, sharing his rations with her, and he’d made her a promise that he would take her with him when he continued his search for Megan.

  But before that could happen, she would have to be alone again for at least a couple of days, and she didn’t like it one bit. Eric had insisted on going back to a remote homestead where he’d spotted some horses on his way there, and she was in no position to argue. She was too weak to keep up with him crossing the mountains on foot, even at a slow walking pace, and Eric wasn’t going to settle for slow, knowing his daughter was so far ahead of him and heading to New Mexico on horseback. He said they would need horses as well if they were ever going to catch up, although seeing him head out at the pace he set when he left that morning, Vicky wasn’t sure. She thought maybe he could do it on foot if he weren’t burdened by her, but she was grateful that he’d offered to take her. Going with him was really her only choice if she didn’t want to die here alone, and it was scary enough to let him leave at all, even though she knew he had to try and find horses. He’d promised to return as soon as possible, and he’d left her some of his food as well as his Glock pistol to give her some comfort while he was away.

  As she thought about what Eric had told her about his journey to get here, and all the obstacles he encountered and overcame, Vicky couldn’t help but think how different things might have been had he only arrived a little sooner. If he’d gotten here before Megan and Aaron left, they wouldn’t have to go looking for them at all. And if he’d been here when those other men came, her grandparents might be alive now and their house still standing. Eric would have stopped those killers. Everything Megan had told her about him was evident at a glance when she saw him in person. He had a friendly smile for her, but there was a faraway look in his eyes and something else in them too that told her he wasn’t the sort of man one would want for an enemy. She wouldn’t be afraid as long as she was with him, no matter where they went, but the return of that awful silence in his absence now put her nerves back on edge, and doubts began to creep into her mind.

  What if Eric didn’t come back? Now that he knew which way Megan went, did he really need her along, slowing him down? It wasn’t like Vicky could show him the way, because she’d never been farther south in these mountains than this ranch and she’d already told him all she knew of Megan’s plans and proposed route. Why should he go out of his way to try and find horses for the two of them when he could already be well on his way after Megan without them? Had he already circled back after he was out of sight of the barn and picked up her trail even now? Couldn’t those Special Forces guys like him run all day without stopping? Vicky couldn’t quit thinking of the possibilities. So many people had betrayed her and let her down since society began to unravel that it was what she’d come to expect. Why should Megan’s dad, a man she’d never met before today, be any different? He didn’t owe her a thing, and after all, he’d let Megan and her mom down too, time and time again, according to what Megan had told her. The man had chosen a life that kept him away from his family, and as a result, Megan scarcely knew him herself. Did he come here now only because he felt guilty about all that and was trying to make up for it? Vicky didn’t know, and she sure didn’t know how she fit into his plans, if she really did at all.

  She hated feeling so much mistrust so soon after he left, because she really wanted to believe in him. But she couldn’t quiet the inner voices in her head, not here in this utter silence, where those voices were the strongest signals reaching her brain. She was aware that the voices were playing tricks on her, and that she’d been traumatized by the recent events she’d experienced but understanding that didn’t help. She couldn’t shut it off while sitting there waiting, doing nothing in that barn, so she decided to try walking around outside for a bit, in hopes of finding something to distract her and get her mind off her fears. And having Eric’s Glock gave her the confidence to do so. While her experience with firearms was only basic, she did know how to aim and shoot a pistol. Her grandfather had taught her with his Colt .45, which he said was just like the one he carried when he was in the Army. When Vicky mentioned this to Eric, he said the Glock wasn’t much different, and actually a little easier to use, as it had less recoil and no safety mechanisms to get confused with. He also said it was ready to go with a round already in the chamber and a full magazine with 15 more just like the first. A small Kydex trigger guard that Eric used for carrying it inside his waistband would prevent accidental discharges. He showed her how to yank it off by the belt loop cord attached to it and assured her that the pistol couldn’t fire as long as the trigger was covered and couldn’t be pulled. Vicky hoped she wouldn’t need it but having the gun in hand definitely made her feel better. She knew she should have more faith in Eric simply because he left it with her, but trust was just so hard now.

  She scanned the open pastures and pine-covered slopes surrounding the barn to make sure she was still alone once outside, and then she made her way towards the ruins of the house. Eric had piled more stones onto the two graves to complete the job she’d started and then that evening while they were talking in the barn, he’d inscribed their names on a weathered board that the two of them placed at the head of the graves. Vicky paused to stare at it for a moment before walking by, grateful for what Eric had done, and then she went on past the house rubble and made her way to the front gate, where she stood and looked down the gravel lane to the road. She wasn’t expecting to see or hear anything out there, but her anxiety drew her to the entrance anyway.

  As she stood looking for nothing in particular, Vicky longed to hear anything that might break the silence. The call of a small bird or the sound of a squirrel scampering through the pines would make her feel better, but if there were any small creatures nearby, they weren’t moving now. It was if she were truly the only living thing left on the property. Vicky leaned back against the rough bark of a tree as gathering clouds of dark thoughts swirled around her. She knew that even if Eric returned tomorrow, the earliest she could reasonably expect him, the hours in between were going to drag like days and her time alone would seem like forever. She didn’t know how to deal with that other than breaking up the wait by moving around a bit. She would sit out here as long as she could stand it, and then find another spot to wait some more. Settling on the ground at the base of the tree trunk, she passed at least a full hour before her legs felt stiff and she had to get up and shake it out. She was about to turn back for the short walk to the barn when a gut feeling suddenly overcame her; a feeling that maybe she was no longer alone.

  She felt her heart began to race as she scanned her surroundings with a growing sense of panic. A moment later a sound reached her ears, confirming that she wasn’t just imagining things. Someone was out there on the road! Vicky did
her best to keep her breathing in control as she listened carefully, trying to figure it out. And then it dawned on her that the sound that broke the silence was the sound of approaching horses, but not coming from the direction in which Eric went, which was east to where the road eventually dead-ended at a trailhead. No, these horses were coming from the west, following the one road that led in to connect the ranch to the rest of the world. Vicky could clearly hear their hooves crunching the gravel now, and she could hear barely audible voices as the riders conversed. She didn’t know how many there were, but there was certainly more than one, so it wasn’t Eric Branson. And she knew that even if there weren’t more than one and they weren’t coming from the wrong direction, Eric couldn’t have possibly found horses and made it back here with them so soon, as he’d only been gone a few hours.

  Vicky quickly considered her options as she looked around for the best place to hide close at hand. There wasn’t time to run back to the barn before whoever was riding those horses came into view if they turned into the drive, and besides, being the only structure still standing there, the barn would be a magnet to them as it had been to Eric. Vicky couldn’t risk it again. Her top priority was to stay out of sight until the approaching riders left, and that meant she had to disappear from view right now. She slipped through the trees some 200 feet to the east of the driveway to a small outcrop of jagged rock that would provide concealment as long as the strangers didn’t approach it directly. By the time she had settled in behind it, lying flat on her stomach in a position where she could watch the entrance, the riders were in view, heading straight onto the property just as she’d feared they would.

  Vicky had Eric’s Glock in her hand as she propped herself up on her elbows just enough to see over the rocks. For all she knew, the approaching strangers were friends of her grandparents, finally making their way here to check on them. But until she knew, she had to assume everyone she encountered was a threat. That was the world she now found herself in, whether she liked living that way or not. Her actions yesterday would have failed her for certain if the man who found her in the barn had been one of the bad ones. Vicky was determined not to make another such mistake, and as the approaching horses and riders drew close enough that she finally got a good look at them, she was glad she was well hidden. One of the three horses was unmistakably a gelding named Tucker that had been her grandpa’s favorite. The other two were Appaloosas as well that she recognized from the ranch, and seeing them together, she knew exactly who had taken them and who was riding them now. The three thieves in the saddles weren’t strangers at all, but rather her former friends that had stolen those horses as well as all the supplies they could carry when they set off from the ranch in pursuit of Megan and Aaron. Vicky’s grip tightened on the Glock as she stared at the rider on Tucker’s back in disgust. What in the hell was Gareth Mabry up to now? Why would he and Jeremy and Brett come back here after what they’d done? And where was Colleen? Why wasn’t she with them?”