Project Dreamscape

1Project Dreamscape

Project Dreamscape

2 Hero Jenkins

Project Dreamscape

Copy r ight 2012 by Sa’Quon DeEse Publ ishing

This is a work of fiction. All Characters and events, even those based on real people and real events are entirely fictional. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coinci-dental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be repro-duced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, record-ing, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the copyright holder, except brief quotations used for review.

Sa’Quon DeEse is a registered trademark of Sa’Quon DeEse Publishing, LLC

Sa’Quon DeEse PublishingLahaina, Hi.

Visit www.saquondeese.com for additional information and special content.

Printed in the United States of America

3Project Dreamscape

To the “Bad Ass Babes”(You know who you are)

Thanks for everything

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Three Months Ago

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Prologue

Chapter One

Dreamscape Compound, Malibu, Ca

Nature can be cruel when you’re running for your life. Shad-ows become silhouettes; random sounds become footsteps, screeches and howls a pursuer’s command to halt. Alone and in the dark, he questioned the wisdom of his escape. The mere attempt, he under-stood, could cost him his life. Yet staying, without a doubt, would cost him his soul.

***

Daniel Pascucci

Daniel Pascucci clawed at the slippery mud as he climbed out of the ravine. He crouched and paused to listen. Then stood slowly, before he sprinted towards a near-by stand of trees. His intellect reminded him to keep to the shadows, to be careful to avoid the surveillance cameras. His spirit, however, was desperate to put as

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much distance between himself and the mansion before fatigue robbed him of his legs and fear overtook his courage.

His destination was the northern section of the electrified wire fence that ringed the six-acre compound. He knew he didn’t have much time before the fence was re-energized, even less before he would be missed. Now, just a few feet away, he dropped to his knees and began searching in a section of tall wet grass.

***

It had seemed fitting that it would end on such a dreary night. That had been just one of the thoughts racing through Daniel’s mind while they plodded along the barely paved private road.

The convoy of black Suburbans rolled to a stop at the iron gate and dimmed their lights. His boss, a nasty little man with a shaved head, was still dressed in his dirty military fatigues. Daniel watched as he climbed out of the lead Suburban and punched in the code that deactivated the electric fence.

They were returning from the Sierra National Forest after more than a week of raids. They were exhausted and it showed on each of their faces. But they were not done, not yet. They still needed to unload and process their new “recruits”.

The convoy came to a stop on the large paved area near the basement’s rear entrance. Each man stepped from their Suburban and went about their assigned tasks, except for Daniel. He stood aside and watched and waited for the opportunity to slip away.

Like them, he was once a soldier, but now... like them, he was nothing more than a hired gun. He thought he had seen the worst as witness to the horrors of war, but this was not Baghdad and nothing he witnessed on the battlefield, could have prepared him for what was going on in this California mansion.

***

Beneath a calm uncaring sky Daniel had begun his frantic search and just at the edge of panic... he found them, the bolt cut-ters he had hidden there weeks before.

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Daniel eased out of the grass, crawling soldier style across an open field of razor sharp rocks because he didn’t dare stand and run. Eventually he lay prone at the base of the wire fence. He began using the bolt cutters to make an opening.

“What are you doing Daniel?” The hoarse gravelly voice seemed to come out of nowhere. He

thought he was alone, but no, they had found him. Hesitantly he got to his feet and faced the direction of the voice. He forced out a reply.

“This... what you’re doing here, this is not right!”“C’mon Daniel, you knew it would get messy when you

signed up.”“I didn’t sign up for this,” Daniel said angrily.“You didn’t answer my question, son,” the short bald man

said as he stepped from the shadows. “What are you doing?”“I want out that’s all,” he said. “I’m done.”“Of course Daniel, all you had to do was ask. Do you really

think all this sneaking around is necessary?”Daniel did not reply. Three more men, men he knew, appeared

out of the darkness and stood next to the bald man.“Can I count on you to forget everything you saw here?”“Sure, I don’t want any trouble. You’ll never hear from me

again.” “On your word as a soldier?”“You have my word,” Daniel answered nervously. The bald man, codenamed “Bulldog” regarded Daniel as he

fished out a match and casually lit his cigar.“Good enough,” Bulldog said, taking a puff. He threw his

match into the dirt and stamped it with his boot. Then he looked past Daniel at the hole and said, “well... you seem to already have an opening so... go ahead and go.”

Daniel turned and looked at the small hole he had just cut, freedom was in sight.

So close, he thought as a wave of nausea hit him and his world abruptly disappeared.

***

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Part One

The Hunters and the Hunted

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Last Night

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Chapter Two

Sierra Mountains, California

There was no moon to speak of and the wind howling through the trees masked their movements. The conditions were perfect for what they were hunting, because tonight they were hunting the most dangerous prey… man. They had been well trained and they were well equipped. They carried specially designed non-lethal weapons that were uniquely suited for their unusual mission. Because their mission was not to kill, their prey needed to be taken alive.

After cresting the stony ridge, four shadows dropped and crawled silently through the scattered waist high chaparral. They soon reached the edge of a clearing where they had an unobstructed view of the campsites by the lake.

The man known as Bulldog crouched next to a tree and rubbed his hand over his shaved head. He was a short, stocky, compact man... broad and muscular like everybody’s high school wrestling coach. He had a perpetual scowl on his face which, combined with his build, had earned him his nickname.

Bulldog raised his night vision binoculars intending to exam-

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ine each campsite. He counted five of them distributed around the lake. The backpackers in each camp were either in their tents or huddled around dwindling campfires.

It won’t be long now, he thought.After raiding several campsites the night before he and his

team had kidnapped or ‘recruited’ as he preferred to say, four likely candidates. Unfortunately two of them were not compatible with the equipment and had to be returned to their campsites and released. That meant that he needed replacements. There was still plenty of night left and if his luck continued, he was certain to have two com-patible ‘recruits’ before daybreak.

The first camp had four backpackers in it. He watched them as they huddled around the fire. Their body language suggested they were telling scary campfire stories. He watched them as they clutched at one another and peered nervously into the night... won-dering what monsters lurked in the dark.

They had no idea, he thought.Lucky for them, four was too many, as his team could only

carry two per trip.Another camp had only a single occupant and since he needed

two, one was a waste of time. In the third camp, however, he saw what he needed. There were two people, a man and a woman, embracing as they sat on a fallen log and gazed into their campfire. The couple had obviously setup their campsite far away from the others for privacy and that made them perfect targets. Bulldog didn’t bother checking the other two campsites; he signaled his team to move out.

Without hesitation they were on their feet, sweeping down upon their quarry from the ridge above. They were apex predators, unrivaled by anything they would face in that forest, they were mas-ters of the silent approach and they owned the night.

Bulldog and his team stopped just outside of the glow of the dwindling campfire. Then they watched and waited in the darkness for the moment to strike.

The male half stood and stretched.That man is ready for bed, Bulldog thought.


The male reached down for the female who smiled up at him, took his hand and stood also.

Better to take them now, before they retire to the tent, he thought.

He didn’t know what it was, but there was something built into those backpacker’s tents and its synthetic, waterproof fabric that diminished the weapon’s effectiveness.

Bulldog and the man known as “Charmer” raised their weap-ons and locked the male in their sights, the other two members of his team locked in on the woman.

Bulldog signaled and they opened fire.The male began convulsing violently before dropping to his

knees and throwing up. Next he pitched forward, going face first into the fire. The woman did not go down, instead she managed to stagger a few steps and then recover enough to run into the forest.

Charmer rushed forward to drag the male out before he caught fire and burned himself and the whole damn forest down. The other two members of the team went in pursuit of the woman.

“How badly is he burned?” Bulldog asked quietly. He wasn’t asking out of concern for the man, his concern was that if the inju-ries were severe enough, they would have to leave him and recruit yet another camper.

“His clothes are singed a little,” Charmer replied coldly. “He’ll survive.”

***

It didn’t take long, the other two members of Bulldog’s team found the woman crouching behind a tree. They watched her as her eyes searched the darkness, seeing nothing. Typically, if the weapons failed to put the target out, the target would run screaming through the woods. But this one hadn’t screamed. She no doubt believed her silence would aid in her escape.

Unfortunately for her, after sitting so close to that fire for so long, her heat signature in the Night Vision Goggles was hard to miss. They hit her with both weapons at close range. First she threw

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up, and then she stumbled backwards and went down hard.When they approached the woman, they removed their night

vision goggles and saw something they hadn’t noticed before. She was wearing a bright orange sweatshirt and yellow shorts made from that new fabric designed to repel insects and other pests.

Special fabric… that explains why she didn’t go down the first time, he thought.

As it turned out the bright colors made the woman hard to miss and the sight of her made them chuckle.

I probably could have found her without the night vision, one of them thought to himself.

Before they could haul the woman back to the campsite they had to assemble a stretcher. Each member of the team carried parts to a high-tech, lightweight, collapsible, stretcher designed for moun-tain rescue. Each man pulled out his portion of the stretcher from his backpack, assembled it and before long they had the woman strapped in. They lifted the stretcher and returned to the camp to join the others.

***

Bulldog was busy stamping out the campfire by the time the other two returned with the female.

Charmer was going through their belongings, looking for Identification. He had to make sure they weren’t ‘recruiting’ some-body famous or rich. If someone like that were to disappear the search would be exhaustive and more trouble than it was worth.

Charmer found driver’s licenses for both of them and checked their names in the database.

“The male half is named Jim, the woman Francis,” he said without looking up. Francis and Jim, just a couple of recently mar-ried nobodies... perfect,” he added coldly.

Charmer dutifully marked their names on his map near the location of their campsite because he had to know which camp they came from in the event they weren’t compatible with the equipment


and had to be returned.Both ‘recruits’ were strapped to stretchers and then given

injections to keep them unconscious. They were now ready to be carried back to base camp for processing. The last thing to do was for Bulldog and his team to erase their boot prints and any other indications that they had been there.

***

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The Next Morning


Day One

Chapter Three


Angela Freeman

Park Ranger Angela Freeman had hiked just a few miles away from her campsite when she first heard the unusual hum-ming noise. Some noises just didn’t fit in certain surroundings and like rap music at a rodeo, the humming noises in the forest did not fit. Since first hearing the noise, she had been trying to follow the hum to its source.

Angela Freeman was probably not the image conjured up when most people imagined a rugged Park Ranger who managed the Sierra National Forrest. She was young, pretty and petite. Her dark hair complimented her smooth brown skin. She had warm welcoming green eyes and a friendly engaging smile.

The noises were getting louder, so she knew she was getting closer. Then she started hearing additional sounds... voices!

Angela crested a ridge and was able to peer down into the valley below. There should have been an old disused camping area

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there if she remembered correctly. What she saw, however, was like something out of a science fiction movie.

There was a small encampment complete with stadium style light towers that were mounted on trailers. The light towers were arranged in a ring around several large military style camouflage tents.

Something was terribly wrong here… This is not right! That camp should not be there.

***

Colonel John “Bulldog” Dupree

A brooding Colonel John “Bulldog” Dupree (US Army retired) dropped to one knee and scooped up a handful of dirt. He watched it slowly drain between his fingers back to the ground.

His base of operations was a camp located in a secluded sec-tion of the forest. It was tucked discretely between two ridges, which discouraged accidental discovery by the casual camper who may have strayed off the marked trails. However, it was close enough to the trails and campsites to where he had an excellent pool from which to draw his “recruits”.

Dupree had set up similar camps every four months or so, for the last eight years. He found it easy to get in and out before any of his recruits were even missed.

People came to the National Park to escape, he reasoned. For most people a camping trip was nothing more than a

planned disappearance into the wilderness. Their idea of getting away from it all, to be ‘Out of Touch’. Unfortunately for them ‘Out of Touch’ meant they wouldn’t be missed until long after he was gone. Accidents happened in the wilderness didn’t they? People dis-appeared all the time! What little fervor kicked up over the missing backpackers tended to die down soon enough after the news media moved on to the next sensational story.

Dupree thought about his decision to find his recruits here in the National Forest. For the most part the campers who ventured this far into the wilderness were backpackers. Backpackers were very


different from the slobs he had watched drive their RV’s right up to the campsites and plop down in lawn chairs next to beer coolers.

Dupree’s targets were generally young, physically fit, and quite intelligent. All desirable attributes for his purposes. They were also idealistic and naively trusting. Who else would venture out into this environment unarmed?

The progress of his mission was weighing heavily on his mind.They should be operational soon, he thought. Only then would he know if his efforts so far had been pro-

ductive. He and his team had had a fruitful night. They had managed to ‘recruit’ two more backpackers who suited their needs. Newly-weds Francis and Jim had been plugged into the machine along with the campers they had recruited the night before and now all four recruits were ready for the next compatibility test. They were ready to be linked to the equipment back at the Dreamscape compound.

A noise from behind him grabbed his attention. He looked around in time to see Captain Thomas approaching.

Captain Mike “Charmer” Thomas

“All set Colonel,” Captain Thomas called out as he got closer. Thomas, at 6’3”, cast a shadow that seemed to swallow up the much smaller Dupree. Mike Thomas was a former Army Captain and Dupree’s second in command. He was ruggedly handsome and charming to a fault, hence the nickname Charmer. But, his looks and charm masked an unparalleled malevolence few ever saw, until it was too late.

“Good deal Mike, go ahead and make the call,” Dupree said. Dupree watched Mike Thomas walk away before he turned

and squinted into the rising sun. After a few moments Dupree stood and dusted his hands together. He kicked a couple of rocks and watched as the dust settled around his boots.

It’s a waiting game now. His part, the hard part, was the acquisition of the recruits. That

done, he and his men were responsible for camp security. Although he maintained overall operational control, the eggheads were there

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to handle the technical stuff and it was up to them from here on.He took in a deep breath and looked out at the mountains

in the distance.It is beautiful here, he thought.

***

From her hiding place on the ridge above, Park Ranger Angela Freeman examined the camp below. She spotted the thick cables that connected the largest tent in the center to a couple of diesel-powered generators. The generators, she noted, were mounted on flatbed trucks and were much larger versions of the generators at the Ranger compound. They were obviously the source of the hum-ming sound she had been following.

Angela noticed at least a dozen men and women wearing white knee length lab coats in the camp below. They were scurry-ing around or huddled in small groups talking. Some tended to the generators, while still others walked in and out of the largest tent.

I can’t believe this; these people with that equipment shouldn’t be here. They shouldn’t be doing... whatever it is they’re doing.

What could be in that tent, in the middle of the forest that could possibly require that much power? What could require so much attention from so many technicians?

She inched her way closer. Loose dirt mixed with dried pine needles, blanketed the

mountainside. It made the footing a bit more challenging than Angela would have liked.

“Careful Angela,” she said to herself. “One false step and you will slide right down into the center.”

Eventually she reached a spot where she thought she would have a better view of that large tent. She squatted down behind a large boulder but her foot slipped. Several small rocks tumbled down the hillside… she ducked down and cringed. Luckily the rocks got caught by a bush and didn’t make it all the way to the camp.

She poked her head up and eyed the tent. There was a large flap on this side… it obviously served as the door. A technician entered and pulled back the flap and for the first time she could see


inside. She caught glimpses of electronic equipment near the far walls. Some of the equipment she recognized as ordinary computers, but there was another machine in that tent, it was enormous. That was when, something in her head... that small voice was telling her that everything about that machine was pure evil. Now that same voice was telling her to run, it had started as a whisper but now had almost grown to a shout.

“Calm yourself Angela,” she commanded.The tent door eventually closed and she lost her view. Angela

began to notice other things that were unusual, like the absence of animals or even insects for that matter. Then she saw something that horrified her, there was a truck parked nearby and it was stacked to overflowing with dead animals.

Her horror turned to outrage; her next impulse was to storm down into the camp. But then that voice inside gave her a moment of pause. That was when she saw the soldiers or at least they looked like soldiers. They wore military style camouflage uniforms and were carrying very large rifles.

A scream drew Angela’s attention back to the large tent.She looked in time to see a woman burst from the tent, des-

perate to get away. The woman, a backpacker by the looks of her, wore a bright orange sweatshirt and yellow shorts, the latest fad for the metro-camper these days. Two of the technicians tried to con-trol her and drag her back but she would not give up. She kicked and scratched and managed to break free. A soldier appeared from out of nowhere and struck the woman in the head with the butt of his rifle. Angela could hear the soldier laugh almost manically as the woman staggered around... her arms flailing, her legs weak and unsteady like a newborn colt’s. Then, mercifully, she dropped to the ground… face down in the dirt.

“Damn It Charmer... not in the head,” another soldier, a short bald one, barked.

Several technicians arrived; they each grabbed a limb and carried the woman back into the tent while still another technician held the flap open.

That was when Angela got her first full, unobstructed view of the tent interior and what she saw terrified her...

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there were...“People!”She almost shouted it out as her brain processed what her

eyes were seeing.There were people dressed like backpackers lying on cots

inside that tent. They were in four point restraints. Angela had seen those kinds of leather bindings used to restrain mental patients at a hospital where she once volunteered. There was no doubt about it the backpackers were being held captive inside that large tent.

Angela looked closer.The backpackers had helmets, like high-tech bicycle helmets,

on their heads. She almost cried out when she realized that the awful high-tech helmets were connected to that dreadful machine. Some-thing terrible was going on here and she needed to tell someone. Unfortunately, she had long ago stopped carrying a two-way radio. She doubted that the lazy slugs back at the Ranger compound would respond anyway. Angela remembered her cell phone. She pulled it out and punched it on, no bars, naturally!

Angela Freeman had never been a soldier. If she had she would have known to make more effective use of cover and conceal-ment. She had been spotted the moment she made her way down the hillside.

Angela Freeman had been a park ranger for only a couple of years since graduating from UC Berkley with her degree in forestry. She had never been the least bit concerned for her safety, who in their right mind would mess with a Federal Park Ranger in a National Park? Never had there been a problem. She couldn’t remember ever being afraid… until now.

Things went from bad to worse when one of the soldiers, the short bald one standing in the center of the camp turned and looked in her direction. He appeared to be looking right at her. Her blood ran cold.

“Oh Damn!”

***


Chapter Four

Damn it, Dupree thought. He should have expected this. Things were going way too

smoothly. Someone, a Park Ranger no less, had spotted them. He had switched to damage control mode. He knew the success of his mission hinged on catching her and finding out what she knew.

“Damn it,” Dupree cursed under his breath. Then he keyed his microphone. “Charmer, this is Bulldog, how much did she see,” he growled.

Thomas was making his way out of the Camp and up the ridge. He was attempting to pick up her trail.

“Hard to say boss,” he said. “She popped up on the security team’s radar while they were doing their security sweep, but something spooked her before they could make contact and she bugged out.”

“Was there anyone with her?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Communications, weapons?”

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“Didn’t see any.”

Minutes later Dupree joined Thomas as he stood and scoured the ridge looking for any movement.

“She’s hunkered down somewhere up there; if she was run-ning we would see some signs,” Thomas said.

Dupree thought about the other two members of his team. Phil Jones and Michael Bennett. They were nicknamed Rocky and Bullwinkle because like the cartoon characters, they had been inseparable since boot camp. They worked so well together most commanders came to accept them as a package deal. They often joked that they must have been twins, separated at birth, which would have been plausible except for the fact that Bullwinkle was white and Rocky was black.

“We’re just brothers from another mother!” They would say. Dupree keyed his mike and said, “Bullwinkle, this is Bull-

dog... you up?”

“Yes sir, go ahead!” Phil ‘Bullwinkle’ Jones replied immediately.

“You and ‘Rocky’ work your way out in front of her. I need you to beat her to the top of that ridge to the north, once you get there let her see you. Then I want you to start moving back down the ridge. We’ll box her in and then you can flush her back to us,” Dupree said.

Michael ‘Rocky’ Bennett looked up from his map and made eye contact with Bullwinkle.

“Copy,” Bullwinkle responded.

Rocky and Bullwinkle exchanged glances, they coordinated without even speaking and then they moved out.

***

Angela watched as the soldiers scrambled up and out of the


camp behind her. When she spotted two more soldiers ahead of her she realized that she was in trouble.

Angela crouched down in the underbrush, listening to every sound, trying to determine if there were any other soldiers close by. She was being hunted, by whom, she did not know. What she did know was that there were at least four of them and they were car-rying weapons.

So there she was, on the side of a mountain, with no way to communicate with the outside world.

So there she remained, crouched in the wild scrub brush, watching, trying to decide what to do next.

She knew most of this wilderness area like the back of her hand. She was counting on that superior knowledge to give her an edge, hoping that it would be enough to keep her alive.

***

Jackson Hawkins

Just a few miles away, Jackson Hawkins stood on a stony ridge. He turned and looked down at his campsite near the lake in the valley below. He had no way of knowing it, of course, but Dupree and his men had used this ridge to watch the campsites the night before. The fact that he was alone on a night Dupree needed two people was the only reason he had not been taken. He didn’t know about Dupree and his awful camp. He had no idea of the drama unfolding just on the other side of the ridge.

Hawkins had expected to see Francis and Jim, the young mar-ried couple he had met yesterday while he was setting up his camp. But their camp looked deserted and they were nowhere in sight.

Honeymooners, he remembered with a grin. They were prob-ably still inside their tent.

Jackson Hawkins chuckled to himself. He was single by choice and at twenty-eight he was happy with his life. His mother on the other hand was not happy, especially with his marital status. She was starting to worry that he wouldn’t find a good woman to settle

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down with. She often voiced her concerns, and he, in turn, would tease her about meddling in his business.

The truth was, Jackson really didn’t mind her interference. She had loved him and raised him alone and that couldn’t have been easy. The only negative to being raised by someone like his mother was that he had inherited her aversion for the outdoors. As a kid she insisted he keep his clothes clean, so Jackson tended to stay indoors. As a result he never really learned to play nice with others.

Hawkins involuntarily shivered as the crisp morning air bit through his layers of clothing. Though sunrise had come, there had been a chill in the air when he had emerged from his small back-packing tent, and it still lingered.

Hawkins looked out past the lake at the mountains in the distance. The snow capped Sierra Mountains seemed to rise up on the horizon with the sun. ‘Upper Jackass’ lake was so clean and still, the mountains reflected off of it like it was glass. For the first time in his life he heard the unique sound the wind made as it blew through pine trees. The soft thud a pinecone made when it hit the ground after being dislodged by that wind. All manner of birds and insects that had been quiet throughout the night seemed to arrive with the rising of the sun. Everywhere and at once the sights and sounds of nature exploded around him.

“God how I hate this,” Jackson complained. “I hate nature!” Hawkins was just under 6’ tall and 190 lbs. He somehow man-

aged to squeeze his man-sized body into a tent seemingly designed for a child.

***


Chapter Five

Jackson Hawkins was exhausted, sleep had been denied him when he was repeatedly awakened by howls and screeches and other noises alien to his ears. Ears accustomed to a South Central L.A. lullaby of sirens, car crashes, and gunshots. Then there were all of those damned animals stomping about. Throughout the night their footfalls around his tent woke him up each and every time he even came close to drifting off to sleep. During one such awakening he checked the time, it was 2:00 am. He briefly considered leaving his tent and confronting the furry little bastards, but quickly changed his mind. What if it wasn’t a harmless little raccoon or squirrel, but a big ugly man-eating bear that had dropped by for a late night snack... him!

Yeah, I do hate nature, Jackson thought, as he tried to clean some sticky, smelly, brown stuff from the bottom of his hiking boots with a stick.

There are way too many bugs and leaves, too much dirt... not to mention sticky, smelly brown stuff, everywhere!

He looked around again in disgust... and there ain’t a Star-bucks in sight!

A dare was the only reason he was even in the forest. His

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childhood friend, Maurice Mackinney, who also happened to be his boss, had bet him he couldn’t survive 72 hours in the wilderness.

His pride got the better of him when he discovered that even as they were discussing the challenge, Mackinney’s Administrative Assistant, Gloria, was making side bets.

***

Gloria Chang’s devilishly impish oval face and pencil thin eyebrows gave her a mischievous look even on the rare occasion she wasn’t up to something. She must have been eavesdropping because she was already setting up an office betting pool before Jackson had even left Mackinney’s office.

Jackson and Mackinney were in the middle of an intense discussion until Mackinney had stepped into his office bathroom. When Jackson got up to grab a diet coke from Mackinney’s refrig-erator he noticed that the office door was slightly ajar. When he stepped closer and inclined his ear he overheard Gloria explaining the office pool to someone on the phone in a hushed voice.

“Each time slot represents a minute in the three days he is supposed to stay in the woods,” she was saying. Gloria listened for a while before she burst out laughing. Then she shook her head and said, “No,No,No.” While still giggling she went on to say, “No, you can’t have the first five minutes, everyone wants those. To make it fair the time slots are assigned randomly so the more time slots you buy, the more likely you are to win!”

Gloria went silent as she listened some more then she grunted, “Uh-huh,” several times.

She said, “Well of course everyone knows how Jackson loves to be neat and clean so no one really knows how long it’ll be before he won’t be able to stand the dirt and comes running out of the forest screaming for his mommy. But, there are more than 1,400 minutes in each day. So there are more than four thousand time slots avail-able and at five dollars each the jackpot could be worth more than twenty thousand dollars.”

Gloria listened some more then she reared back laughing so hard she almost fell out of her chair.


“Exactly, remember the time he was assigned the brand new company car. He is such a lunatic behind the wheel. The pool for how long it would be before he totaled that car paid almost ten thousand dollars,” she said with a laugh. Then she fell silent before speaking again.

“Uh-huh Uh-huh... I know! Who needs a super bowl pool with Jackson around?”

This is insane, Jackson thought.Just then his ole buddy Mackinney strolled out of his bath-

room, sat back down in his chair and spun around in circles playfully.“Now, where were we,” he asked.“Why don’t we make this interesting,” Jackson offered. Mackinney reached out and grabbed his desk, stopping his

momentum. Next he cocked his head quizzically as he leaned for-ward and said, “Define interesting.”

“One hundred dollars,” Jackson replied. A huge smile appeared on Mackinney’s face.“That is a bet!” Mackinney said with more than a little enthu-

siasm in his voice.“Easy Money,” Mackinney snickered. Jackson stood up to leave, Mackinney watched him briefly

before he resumed spinning around in his chair. While spinning, Mackinney started singing the tune for the Jefferson’s sitcom.

Jackson quietly pulled the door closed behind him. Then he crept across the room and stood patiently in front of Gloria’s desk. Gloria, who was still cackling on the phone, didn’t notice him. He glanced at the phone; all of her lines were lit-up and on hold. Com-pany business had apparently taken a back seat to office games and gossip.

Gloria was so startled when she saw Jackson standing there, she nearly dropped the phone. She quickly hung up after a hurried, “Gotta go,” and then tried to regain her professionalism.

She said, “What can I do for you Mr. Hawkins?”Jackson didn’t say a word as he dramatically extracted a hun-

dred dollar bill from his wallet and laid it on Gloria’s desk. He even took the time to thoroughly smooth it out.

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Next he looked her in the eye and said, “Gimme twenty time slots... please.”

Then he turned and walked away.

***

Days later, much like a parent seeing a child off to his first summer camp, Mackinney had dropped Jackson off at the trailhead just outside of Oakhurst California. The last thing Mackinney did, after confiscating all of Jackson’s entertainment electronics, was to give him a company satellite telephone. It was new, one of several custom built models Mackinney had purchased for his employees. The phone came complete with a solar battery charger, GPS track-ing and a digital camera.

“The deal is, you’re allowed one phone call per day,” he paused and grinned. “Now do try to control yourself, because if you use it for anything else, like trying to order pizza, I’ll know and you lose.”

Jackson eyeballed the unfamiliar phone and asked, “what about emergencies?”

“Of course you’re allowed to use it for emergencies and...” “What if I want to use it to call your mom?” Jackson asked,

cutting him off. Mackinney sighed and rolled his eyes.“I happen to like your mom and she likes me... better than

you,” Jackson said. He stuck out his chin proudly as if to empha-size his point.

“That’s only because she has a weakness for that puppy dog face you give her.”

“Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night?” “You’re stalling,” Mackinney observed.“No, I’m not,” Jackson protested. “Yes... you are!”They stood there staring at each other until Jackson broke

the stalemate.“Your dad likes me better too and so does your dog and your...”“Anyways,” Mackinney cut him off. “You have to send me

a photo each day to verify you’re still in the woods and didn’t just strap your GPS phone to a bear or something, and...”


“Bears! There are bears in these woods! Nobody told me nothin about bears!” Jackson shouted in a near panicked voice.

“Yup, big ones and lions too!”When Jackson calmed down he saw the grin on Mackinney’s

face and he knew.“You’re such a liar,” Jackson muttered. He cut his eyes at Mackinney before he snatched the phone

away. Then he picked up his backpack and headed across the park-ing lot towards the trailhead. That was when pride took over and propelled him along the trail, all the way to the top of the mountain.

Now after his first ever night in the wilderness Jackson stood looking down at his campsite, still in one piece. He studied the small tent on the rocky ground, then the fallen log next to it. The tent was his house, the ground his bed, and the log was the closest thing he had to a chair.

Yeah here you are Jackson; look at where your pride has got-ten you, his good angel whispered in his ear.

Yeah, what a dumbass, his bad angel added.“Well at least you two agree on somethin,” Jackson said.That’s just great, he thought, suddenly realizing he was talk-

ing to himself.In his heart, Jackson knew the fact that everyone expected

him to fail was the only thing keeping him here.Pride and stubbornness, pure and simple.The sun was starting to work on him now as it continued its

climb above the mountains. Jackson broke camp and prepared to move out. He reflexively looked at his watch, it was gone.

Oh yeah, he remembered, that bastard took it!Jackson took out his phone and checked the time. It was time

to check in with Mackinney. Then after some trial and error he managed to snap a picture of the lake, the mountains and even the brown smelly, sticky stuff on his boot. He stabbed what he hoped were the correct combination of icons to save each picture and then he tapped the buttons to call Mackinney.

***

32 Hero Jenkins

Chapter Six

Los Angeles, California

Maurice “Mack” Mackinney

Maurice Mackinney or Mack as he was called by his friends, loved Los Angeles. Most people who lived here complained about the traffic and the smog. They complained that life moved too fast, but not Mackinney. He had travelled all over the world; however, he always came home to Los Angeles, the City of Angels.

He could have set up his office anywhere in the country, yet he chose LA. Although he maintained a second office in Washing-ton DC, he spent most of his time right here.

Mackinney was just over six feet and lanky with hazel bed-room eyes. At age twenty-nine he ran a company with more than 100 people subordinate to him. He had access to a private jet and a helicopter with pilots on call. If the need arose, he could be any-where in the world on very short notice. He routinely rubbed elbows with some of the most powerful people in the world.


It was eight o’clock and he was in the midst of his daily LA ritual. He was staking out his favorite morning spot, the Kitch-enfaire Restaurant in Downtown Los Angeles on Sixth at Olive. The restaurant wasn’t due to open for three hours, but Mackinney knew the owner Chris was usually there early to cut the fresh veg-etables and such and he always had a pot of coffee on. The Kitchen Faire restaurant was situated in the middle of the financial district not far from historic China Town and Dodger Stadium. Due west, was Venice Beach, Santa Monica and Malibu due north. There was greater Los Angeles and the airport to the south and to the east was Hollywood.

You couldn’t throw a rock without hitting an A-list movie star or mega billion dollar hedge fund manager because they all seemed to cruise by his spot sooner or later. They would be on their way to their Downtown high-rise office, a Hollywood studio or just a little bit of shopping in Santa Monica. Sometimes they would pass by on their way to their estates on one of the Malibu beachfronts or to LAX the city’s International Airport.

Mackinney hollered at Chris and grabbed a cup. He had just settled into his chair with his coffee and was just about to take a sip when he spotted, what had to be, the most beautiful woman in Los Angeles. She had a sexy athletic build, her hair was dark and curly, her make-up was perfect.

She wasn’t a movie star, although she had the looks. She was beautiful though... in a dangerous kinda way. But, no, the clothes were all wrong... too business-like... elegant like a lawyer, he supposed.

“Hey sexy,” he called out as she got within earshot.“Excuse me,” she stopped and looked around. “Are you talk-

ing to me?” She dipped her head so she could look at Mackinney over the top of her sunglasses.

“My apologies, I don’t normally talk to strangers, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t at least try to talk to you.”

“I’m sorry, do I know you?”“Not yet, but you should.”“Why?” she asked. “Give me one good reason!”

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“Because I am sexy as hell and if you pass all this up come tomorrow, I may be gone. Years from now, you will look back on this moment and wonder what you let slip through your fingers.”

Mackinney watched her roll her eyes. But she wasn’t leaving, clearly she was interested. She looked him over for what seemed like forever. Then she smiled and sat down. She crossed her legs as she leaned back and folded her arms across her chest.

Then she said, “If you’re such a great catch, then why can’t you come up with anything better than those weak-ass lines?”

“You don’t need all those fancy lines when you look as good as I do! Anyway they worked on you didn’t they, you’re sitting here with me aren’t you,” he said. Then he unleashed his secret weapon, his ‘woman killer’ smile.

She took off her glasses and laid them on the table.“It worked because you’re my boss and there could be some

advantages to sleeping with the boss!”Mackinney grinned and leaned forward and kissed her.

“How’s your morning so far Beth,” he asked.“Hectic as hell,” Beth sighed.“I do love you and for the record, you were sleeping with me

before I became your boss,” he said wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

Beth just smiled sweetly and made a show of batting her eyes. They both laughed and sat back, enjoying the moment, enjoying the scenery, enjoying being with each other. It was Beth who broke the silence as she moved her briefcase beneath her chair.

She asked, “have you heard from Jackson yet?”Before Mackinney could answer, his telephone chirped. He

pulled it out and looked at the display with raised eyebrows.“Speak of the devil,” he said. He punched the answer button

and put the phone to his ear.“Dominos,” Mackinney sang into his phone.

***


Chapter Seven

“Hey Mack it’s me,” Jackson said on the other end.

“Who did you say this was,” Mackinney asked. Beth rolled her eyes, and then she leaned back while shaking her head.

“YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHO THIS IS,” Jackson erupted into the phone.

He was shouting so loud Mackinney had to hold the phone away from his ear.

“Oh, Jackson, it’s you. I’d recognize that scream anywhere. How are you? You sound a bit rattled. Are you ready to come home?” Mackinney made no attempt to disguise the laughter in his voice. “I probably shouldn’t say this, I don’t want you to think I was rub-bing it in, but I’m at Chris’ place sipping the most delicious cup of coffee at this very moment!”

Jackson didn’t respond and after a long pause Mackinney spoke again.

“Are you still there,” Mackinney asked sitting up.

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Beth was tired of hearing just one side of the conversation. She scooted her chair around and put her ear to the phone.

“Yeah, I’m still here, I didn’t call to listen to your crap, I called to check in, as ordered.”

“OK, let’s get down to business have you seen any tigers or mountain lions. Keep your eyes open, it’s mating season you know!”

Jackson ignored Mackinney’s remark and said, “I sent you some pictures.”

Mackinney used his newspaper to make static noises into the telephone speaker. “What did you say,” he asked. “I can’t hear you. I think we have a bad connection.”

This earned him a punch on the arm from Beth.

“I... SENT... YOU... SOME... PICTURES... BEFORE... I... CALLED,” Jackson repeated loudly as he paused between each word.

“Hold on,” Mackinney said. He took the phone from his ear and put it on speakerphone.

He pulled up the photos of the lake, looked at them and nod-ded with approval before responding.

“Yeah, I got em.”Mackinney glanced over at Beth and then deactivated the

speaker while he leaned away from her. He said softly, “Beth says they look like fakes!”

“He’s lying!” Beth shouted.Mackinney was busy laughing at his own stupid joke when

Beth gave him another punch in the arm. She leaned back in her chair and watched him as he continued the conversation with Jackson.

She knew they were childhood friends. It was awkward for the three of them when she and Mackinney first started dating in high school.

Jackson had been a loner for most of his young life until he had met Mackinney. Then he clung to Mackinney like a drowning


man to a life preserver. Mackinney became the brother Jackson never had. But when Beth came into the picture, suddenly, Jackson was the third wheel, the odd man out. Mackinney turned out to be a natural diplomat. With his help, she and Jackson had eventually settled into a sort of truce.

“Hey I’ve got great news,” Beth heard Mackinney say as she tuned back into the conversation. “Your little adventure has gone global, it was your mom’s idea, well sort of,” Mackinney lied.

Jackson felt a tiny knot start to form in the pit of his stomach. He knew Mackinney. This was not going to be good news.

“What are you talking about?” There was hesitation in Jackson’s voice or was it dread?

“Well...” Mackinney continued, barely able to contain him-self. “I got the guys in the IT department to post a website yesterday and we linked your GPS signal to it real-time so that your mom will know where you are at any given time. Don’t worry it’s a secure site only people we allow will be able to view it.”

“I’m confused, how did my mom get involved in this?”

“Well naturally I had to tell her what you were up to. You know how she worries about her baby boy.”

“Oh Jeez! This can’t be happening,” Jackson moaned.

Beth, recognizing what was going on took the phone out of Mackinney’s hand.

“Why are you torturing him?”Mackinney, who lived to torment his friend, was enjoying

every minute of it. His attempt at containing his laughter though, had produced a distinct whimpering sound.

“Jackson, this is Beth.” She glared at Mackinney. His eyes were closed now as he was

barely stifling a laugh by covering his mouth with one hand, while clutching his kidney with the other.

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“It’s not that bad,” she continued, “it’s actually very nicely done! There is even a chat room linked to it. Your mom came up with some of the cutest baby pictures, she was so proud. She even told a bunch of her friends.”

Jackson felt as if his head was about to explode. There was a long uncomfortable silence. In fact the only audible sound was Mackinney’s increased whimpering in the background.

Jackson had removed the phone from his ear. He was glar-ing at it like it was a carton of milk that he had discovered was way past its expiration date... after he had sipped from it.

Beth was confused; Mackinney was close to passing out. He was doubled over from a sharp pain in his side and his eyes were watering.

Beth actually thought she was making Jackson feel better, Mackinney thought.

Mackinney knew that Jackson was an extremely private per-son. He knew that everything Jackson was hearing would drive him nuts. But, even Mackinney wasn’t cruel enough to divulge all of the information Beth had just shared with him. Not that Mackinney objected, he thought it was hilarious.

The knowledge of the website would be enough to drive Jack-son crazy, which is precisely why Mackinney had created it.

Mackinney took the phone back from Beth, “Hello... Jackson?”

“I gotta go.” Was all Jackson said before he hung-up.

Beth, still a little confused, asked, “well... was he excited?” Mackinney had barely gotten himself under control, but one look at the clueless innocence on Beth’s face caused him to lose it. He began laughing uncontrollably. Beth, who didn’t understand what was so funny, was becoming annoyed.

“I don’t think so,” Mackinney said finally. He wiped the tears from his eyes.

“I don’t get it, what’s so funny!”Mackinney took a few minutes to remind Beth of Jackson’s

aversion to being in the spotlight and how the website would be received by him.


When Beth ‘got it’, she managed a little chuckle herself, and then she immediately felt guilty.

Then the realization of what she had done hit her. “So now he’ll think I’m part of it,” she shrieked. Mackinney lost it again. Beth crossed her arms in protest but

relented and joined in the laughter. Then she immediately felt guilty again for having so much fun at Jackson’s expense.

“What a rat, you knew this website would drive him nuts. You got his mother involved to cover your butt!”

Mackinney looked wounded.“Not true Beth,” he said. He was struggling to maintain con-

trol. “You know Jackson, just being out there amongst all of those trees and fresh air would have driven him nuts anyway.”

With sudden insight she asked, “you didn’t think he would last this long, did you?”

“Babe, I grew up with him. He hates being dirty.” Mackinney looked at the photos again.

“I didn’t think he would be able to enter the forest, let alone spend the night there!”

“Way to go, little bro,” Mackinney said to himself.

***

40 Hero Jenkins

Chapter Eight


From her hiding place Angela could see the two soldiers on the ridge ahead of her. They were about a mile away. That was the good news. The bad news was they were between her and escape.

It occurred to Angela that her green ranger jacket had gold reflective buttons that could reflect the sun and give away her posi-tion. So she slipped out of the jacket revealing the beige t-shirt she wore underneath. The t-shirt should allow her to blend in better with the dry brush she was currently hiding in. She quickly buried the jacket.

Angela lay prone and crawled on her belly for a while until she came to a fallen tree. She squeezed under the tree and discov-ered a small dry creek bed beneath it. The creek bed was about two feet wide and at least three feet deep. Angela slid down into it and crawled about three hundred more feet before the creek bed came to an abrupt end. It was blocked by a large rock.

Angela speculated that the creek bed was a feeder creek


which should empty into the nearby Jackass River and though she couldn’t see the river, she could hear it. If she could get around the rock without being seen, she might be able to follow the feeder creek to the river and escape. She peeked up, but couldn’t see the soldiers anymore and now she had a decision to make. She could stay put, hide in the creek bed and hope the soldiers didn’t find her or she could make a break for it. Her instincts told her that surrender was not an option.

The minutes ticked by and Angela got more anxious as time passed. Her heart was pounding so hard she could almost hear it.

Think, think, think, she slapped her forehead with her fin-gers. How long before dark? Do I dare lay here till then? No, that’s a bad idea; I’m not equipped to be out all night. If I didn’t freeze to death I would certainly risk killing myself trying to make it back to camp in the dark.

She reminded herself that she knew the area. Somewhere close by, perhaps only a few feet away there should be a narrow trail used by backpackers and beyond that was the river.

There is a fire watch tower a few miles away, she remembered, it would be easy to get to if I can just make it to the river.

She lay there for a few minutes more and listened while she watched for any sign of the soldiers.

Should I make a run for it? Would they shoot me down if they saw me out in the open running?

***

Dupree and Thomas took up positions opposite the ridge Rocky and Bullwinkle now occupied. With any luck the park ranger had been caught in the middle. Now all that was left to do was wait. Soon Rocky and Bullwinkle would be in position and they would start moving back towards them, driving the intruder into their trap.

“The best laid plans,” Dupree muttered to himself. A discrete telephone call to the ranger station confirmed what he already sus-pected. The area was in fact listed as off limits to the public. The rangers were told by their superiors to stay clear due to quarantine. It appeared every ranger got the memo except one.

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She was described by her co-workers as somewhat of a weirdo, a free spirit. She had a habit of disappearing into the wilderness without communications and her co-workers were glad to see her go. Now the free spirit had stumbled onto their little operation and he had no doubt she had seen too much. Now he needed to know what she had seen and more importantly he needed to prevent her from sharing it with anyone.

Capturing her alive wouldn’t be difficult. They were equipped with special weapons that were conceived, designed and built by the company he worked for.

They were sonic rifles and were considered non-lethal weap-ons even though they certainly were scary looking. When he was briefed on the weapons he was told they used some sort of amplified ultrasonic sound projection that had the effect of causing extreme nausea in the target. Prolonged exposure at the higher setting would cause the target to lose consciousness.

Although he didn’t completely understand the science behind them, on more than one occasion he witnessed their effectiveness. First in training and then in application each time his squad raided a campsite.

***

Jackson Hawkins considered himself to be in excellent shape. Unfortunately all of his work on Stairmasters and treadmills didn’t prepare him for hiking in the mountains. He was well into his sec-ond day and he was starting to ache all over. His legs were start-ing to tighten up from all of the hiking. His shoulders were almost numb from the burden of the backpack. He felt relief wash over him when the trail began to flatten out. When Jackson spotted a shady spot ahead, he decided to stop for a rest. He picked out a large flat rock to sit on.

Jackson Hawkins dropped his backpack, fished out an energy bar and enjoyed a brief lunch right there on the trail. Next he pulled a water bottle from his backpack’s side pocket and took a drink.

***


Angela poked her head up and searched for the two soldiers she had spotted on the ridge earlier. She found them and watched as they abruptly turned and started down the ridge towards her hiding place.

Can they see me, she wondered. No, no way, they were too far away. But, whether they see me or not, I can’t stay here. I’ll have to move soon or they will be right on top of me.

Angela decided to try to make it to the river. She slowly rose and climbed up and out of the creek bed. Her legs were cramped from lying motionless so long in an awkward position. She started moving... wanting to get as far away from these men as possible. She forced herself not to cry out as the thick foliage sliced into her exposed arms and legs. She kept moving, only pausing periodically to look and listen.

Eventually she worked her way to a precipice just above the hiking trail. She could hear the river in the distance. She peeked over the shear vertical cliff, but could not find a way to climb down. The drop appeared to be more than fifty feet, so jumping down was out of the question.

Well that didn’t work. Now what? She thought.Angela felt exposed out there in the open so she decided to

work her way back to the safety of the dry creek bed. The creek bed had to lead down to the river at some point. Her best bet would be to pick up the creek bed beyond that large rock, perhaps she could hide in it and make it to the river.

The large rock was covered with slippery moss and other growth. She was pleased to see that the grass in the creek bed on the other side of the rock was taller and much better for hiding. But the tall grass obscured the creek bed bottom. The bottom should have been about two feet or so lower than the ground where she now stood.

Angela began probing with her foot in an area where the bot-tom of the creek bed should be, so far no luck. It was possible the creek bed was just slightly deeper on this side of the rock, but she wasn’t about to jump in without knowing where that bottom was.

44 Hero Jenkins

***

Jackson Hawkins had spent more time than he had planned sitting on the rock in the shade. Refreshed and rested he scooped up his backpack and continued along the hiking trail.

Jackson’s mind began to wander as he hiked the trail. He reflected on the last couple of days. He thought about the website his buddy Mackinney had posted in his name to drive him crazy and win a stupid bet.

As he moved along, Jackson noticed that the trail ahead was changing again. There was a lot less shade for one thing. As he faced the trail there was a vertical rock face on his right. Idly he looked up. The top of the cliff had to be 40 – 50 feet up he estimated. To his left was a nearly 100-foot drop from the trail down to the river.

***

“We may have some movement Charmer,” Dupree said. “Check left, ten o’clock!”

“Copy,” Thomas said. “I see it... Phasers set for stun... or barf rather,” he laughed.

Dupree’s weapon was up and sighted on the intruder. He aimed and fired as did Thomas. There was no sound, no recoil, nothing to indicate that the weapon had even fired except for the reaction of the target, which was immediate.

***

Angela grabbed a stick, crouched down and was about to probe for the bottom, when inexplicably she felt the sudden onset of severe nausea.

She fell forward into the creek bed and just as she was about to lose consciousness she felt herself out of control, sliding on what felt like wet moss.

***


Chapter Nine

Dupree and Thomas ceased firing when the target disap-peared from sight.

“Rocky, Bullwinkle... this is Bulldog, the target is down, hold your position. And keep your eyes open, we still need to verify,” Dupree cautioned.

Dupree and Thomas kept watch on the area where the “free spirit” had been standing just a moment ago. They moved in slowly and deliberately. Dupree had witnessed the weapon’s effect on people many times, yet it still amazed him. The weapon’s only weakness was lessened effectiveness on moving targets and targets at extended ranges. Despite those shortcomings, Dupree couldn’t be happier with the weapon system, non-lethal or otherwise. Case in point... as soon as the little free spirit was hit she stiffened ramrod straight in the waist high grass. Then predictably the target had gone down.

Dupree and Thomas reached the creek bed, but the target was not there. It was Thomas who noticed the depressed grass and the slide tracks in the moss. The tracks led away on a roughly 30 to 40 degree decline down towards the river. They hustled to the edge of the cliff where the creek bed crossed the hiking trail below.

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***

Jackson had been underway for just a few minutes when the heavens opened up and a woman fell from the sky onto the trail right in front of him. He recognized her. No, it wasn’t her, but she sure looked like her. What was her name... that sexy actress... now he remembered... Stacey Dash. She was wearing a tan t-shirt and green shorts. At first Jackson thought he was hallucinating. That is until the woman, “Stacey”, got to her feet cursing and staggering around, like she was drunk or something.

She staggered dangerously close to the opposite edge of the trail, the side with the 100’ cliff. Jackson dropped his backpack and rushed to her. He managed to grab her wrist just before she went over.

He glanced back at the spot where she appeared and saw the dry creek that emptied out onto the trail. It was about six or seven feet above the ground.

His best guess? She had probably been at a campsite near-by getting high. Somehow she had staggered away, fallen into the creek bed and it had deposited her here.

From what Jackson could see the impact with the ground hadn’t caused her any serious injuries. He could see a few cuts and bruises, but there didn’t seem to be anything broken. She was drool-ing a little, from the drugs probably; either that or she was crazy.

Damn, she is beautiful though. Why are the cute ones always messed up, he wondered.

Jackson had both hands on her shoulders, trying to keep her upright. He was looking into her eyes now, they were rolling around in her head like a couple of marbles in a bowl. He was about to ask her where she had come from, when he started feeling an intense nausea. Then, just before everything went black, he saw what looked like his power bar lunch pouring from his mouth onto his shoes.

The next thing he knew he was dreaming of tumbling, just him and Stacey Dash and then splash...

***

Dupree and Thomas arrived at the cliff edge in time to see


their ‘free spirit’ getting to her feet on the backpacking trail below. She was barely conscious and extremely pissed off.

They fired again and the target had fallen off the cliff on the other side of the backpacking trail. To their surprise, some other nitwit had entered into their line of fire at the last minute and had managed to get his butt blasted too.

Well if the fall didn’t kill them perhaps the river will. Never-theless we need confirmation, Dupree thought.

Dupree was about to give the order for the team to regroup when Rocky’s voice came on the radio.

Rocky, who was obviously running while transmitting, said, “Heads up Bulldog, you got some movement in your area. I can see something moving around near the cliff’s edge. You and Charmer hold your position, me and Bullwinkle will check it out.”

***

Rocky and Bullwinkle could not get a good look at what was moving around near the cliff. They could tell that there were two of them and whatever they were, they were not human. Then just like that, they had lost sight of the creatures and Rocky and Bullwinkle were forced to slow down. The forest had suddenly become unnat-urally quiet, normal noises had disappeared which was usually a signal that something bad was about to happen. Somehow nature always knew when something bad was happening and nature also knew when to get out of the way. They inched forward, attempting to reacquire the creatures they had only glimpsed before. That was when they heard it, the creatures’ horrible, monstrous roar. The roar was bouncing around off the trees; it seemed to be coming from all directions at once.

Both men froze mid step.Rocky looked over at Bullwinkle the look on his face commu-

nicated volumes, he had no idea what the hell that was. The animal noise they were hearing was unlike anything they had heard before and whatever it was, it was close.

Suddenly both Rocky and Bullwinkle caught sight of the

48 Hero Jenkins

creatures, just as the creatures began moving away. Their weapons came up.

The creatures were running now. Rocky and Bullwinkle continued tracking the creatures’

movements through the trees, that monstrous roar echoing through the trees as it went. They had the creatures in their sights, they both opened fire.

***

“What the hell?” Dupree spun towards the sound of the monstrous roar. They

caught a glimpse of something moving. There were two of them and they were big, black and hairy. Both he and Thomas raised their weapons and began tracking whatever it was as it darted in and out of the trees. They fired, but their weapons had no effect on the creature. Then it was gone, disappearing into the dense forest.

***


Chapter Ten

Dupree shouted into his radio.“Bullwinkle, Rocky Report!” The reply was immediate, but

Dupree could tell that Bullwinkle and Rocky were running.

“We’re ...... pursuit of ...... we may ......hit it a couple ...... times!”

“Negative on pursuit,” Dupree barked. “Break contact and form on me!”

Within minutes all four battle hardened mercenaries stood together looking in the direction where the creature had disappeared.

“Did anyone get a look at whatever the hell that was,” Dupree asked. Thomas shrugged; Bullwinkle and Rocky were both shak-ing their heads ‘no’.

“You’re sure you hit it... the weapons had no effect!?”“Yeah... I’m sure. It was moving at a good clip through the

trees boss, but I’m positive we got his ass,” Rocky offered. Bullwinkle nodded in agreement.

Dupree looked down at his 45, which he carried in a holster on his hip. The rest of his team was armed with 9mm semi-auto-matics and that was the extent of the lethal weapons they carried.

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“I don’t know what that was,” Dupree said addressing the group. “But we’re not equipped to fight it!”

Dupree looked to the area of the cliff where the target had disappeared and then he walked over to the edge. He could follow their path down through the thick foliage, but the bottom where the bodies had no doubt come to rest was hidden from him. He looked up at the sun which had moved across the sky. “It’s gonna take a while for us to work our way down to the river to retrieve the bodies. It will be dark before we can get in and out. Let’s get back to camp; we will need grab some lethal weapons in case those creatures show up again. We can also grab our night vision gear.”

Dupree looked at the area where the creature was last spot-ted before he turned to walk away.

“Let’s move out,” he barked.

***

The shock of hitting the water woke Jackson up. He rolled over onto his back. The water was less than a foot deep where he landed, it was moving rapidly and it was cold.

Jackson struggled to his hands and knees.“I feel awful,” he said. He looked around for the girl and spot-

ted her crawling onto the riverbank and collapsing.Jackson got to his feet and approached her, arriving just as

she was rolling over onto her back. Her eyes were wide open but unfocused.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” she said. Then she gagged, rolled over and threw-up. She rolled onto her back and looked up at Jackson wild-eyed.

“Follow the river... follow... fire tower,” she spat out in slurred speech. She started to drool. Next she reached up and grabbed Jack-son’s collar. With a feral look in her eyes she spat out her words while spraying slobber all over Jackson’s shirt.

“Don’t you understand, we have to leave before they come back,” she screamed. Then her hands dropped from his collar just before her eyes rolled back and her entire body went limp.

Jackson did a quick check for injuries. Her ankle was swollen


but not broken. She had a number of cuts and bruises. He had a first aid kit in his backpack, but it was back up on the trail.

Jackson looked up in the direction of the trail and the path he and Stacey had cut during their rapid decent. The dense foliage had broken their fall but there was no way he was going to be able to climb back up to get to his backpack, her cuts were going to have to wait.

Jackson left Stacey where she lay and walked out to the middle of the river to get a better look around. He could conceivably find a spot where he could climb back up to the trail and make it down the mountain if he left Stacey behind. It would be well after dark if not morning before he had any hope of returning with help. But he didn’t dare leave her out here in her current condition; she would not survive the night. He briefly considered using his telephone to call Mackinney. But he didn’t, due to pride or stupidity or some ungodly combination of the two.

The way he saw it there was no other option; he was going to have to carry her out. He was no medic but he had watched enough of the survival shows to recognize the signs of hypothermia: shiv-ering, confusion, followed by muscle rigidity. If he, in his wildest dreams, ever thought he could be in this situation he would have paid more attention.

“Well, you were right about one thing crazy lady, we do have to get out of here,” Jackson said to the unconscious woman. “I hope you were right about the fire tower.”

They were both wet, they would need shelter or neither of them would survive the night. He looked downriver, he could see that he would be able to travel some of the way on the banks of the river but not the entire trip. The large rocks he saw ahead would have made it difficult enough if he was alone, but with the added weight of Stacey there was no way. That meant that he would be spending a lot of the trip in the ice-cold river water.

Jackson picked up the Stacey Dash lookalike and put her over his shoulder where she promptly threw up. Jackson shook his head as he set out down the river.

Why are the cute ones always crazy?

52 Hero Jenkins

***

Hours later, Dupree and his team arrived at the riverbank where the bodies should have been. He could see where both people had tumbled down through the thick brush. It was doubtful that they had managed the climb back up on the trail. There was a single set of footprints leading away along the riverbank. Both sides of the river were checked. There was no indication that either target had left in the opposite direction.

“These tracks are pretty deep; my guess is that the male is carrying the female, unless of course she’s the one with size 14 feet,” Thomas said.

Dupree squatted down to inspect the tracks, he agreed with Thomas’ analysis with a nod.

“What’s up ahead,” Dupree asked without looking up. MikeThomas consulted a map.“There is a large meadow and a lake about 11 kilometers in

the direction the tracks are headed. Unless they find a way up to the trail down river somewhere, my guess is that they will camp in the meadow by the lake for the night, especially if she’s hurt,” Thomas said.

Dupree scooped up a handful of dirt, dropped it and dusted his hands together before he stood.

“Yep,” Dupree agreed with a grunt. He was remembering what he had learned about the park ranger he was now tracking.

“Free spirit... shit, just what I needed,” he muttered.Thomas folded his map and put it away, he turned and stud-

ied Dupree. He knew Dupree didn’t like loose ends, especially with the stakes so high.

“Do we know anything about the other one, the guy who’s with her,” Thomas asked.

“No,” Dupree said, “he’s a wildcard.”After a few minutes of thought, Dupree faced the team.“OK, let’s find her. We need to know what she knows and

what she saw,” Dupree told the group.


“And what she has told captain dumbass, the helpful camper,” Thomas added loud enough for only Dupree to hear.

Thomas turned and looked at Rocky and Bullwinkle who were studying the surrounding area as if they expected the creature to jump out and attack at any minute.

“We have to find her and squash this thing quick,” Dupree said quietly to Thomas. “The last thing I want to do is to have to report this glitch to that bitch Lydia Curtis.”

Then Dupree addressed the entire team. “Let’s go,” Dupree barked. His team started out single file with Thomas in the lead fol-lowing the tracks and Bullwinkle bringing up the rear.

Dupree’s mind was already turning to what lay ahead, if the ranger and her helper were still alive when he caught up with them, his team would take them down. After extracting the infor-mation he required he would probably plug them into Lydia Curtis’ machine back at the Dreamscape Compound. More likely, though, they would become just another one of those camping accidents he read about all of the time.

***

Project Dreamscape

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