Chapter Ten: West Virginia Wilderness – June 27
After traveling to a remote area, the King family had one enjoyable afternoon on Class 3 rapids before a severe thunderstorm sent them scurrying for refuge on the rocky bank. Then with a second day of inclement weather, they were limited to playing cards under tarps and hiking in between the rain showers. Now everything was a sea of mud.
On the bright side, the trip to "The Gorge" eased Amanda's anxiety. The sense of doom she'd experienced at Harpers Ferry soon dissipated at their new location. With their focus on advancing whitewater skills and hiking rugged terrain, the family was slowly developing into a solid team. Even Carrie had traded her hair bow for a baseball cap and her platform sandals for Nike sneakers.
Early in the evening when the sky cleared, Joe took the boys for a romp in the nearby waterfalls. Not only did the adventure scrub them clean, but their enthusiasm enticed the rest of the family to give it a try. At sunset, Joe and Carrie hiked back to the falls and returned jovial and refreshed after dark.
Now with the family bedding down for the night, it was Amanda's turn to indulge in private pampering. Gathering a towel, soap, shampoo, and clean clothes, she set out to bathe in the great outdoors. With renewed confidence about safety, she felt more daring, particularly since other campers had vacated the grounds in favor of a dry overnight in a rustic lodge.
Unlike her previous lonely trek through a desolate wooded area, tonight's jaunt filled her with heady anticipation. Maybe it was the bright moonlight and the starlit sky that beckoned her forward, or maybe it was the pure pleasure awaiting her under the spray of a gentle waterfall.
Setting her heavy duty flashlight upon a rock, the strong beam enveloped nature's spa. Hidden from view behind the shelter of trees, Amanda slipped off her muddied clothes and stepped into the shimmering water. Immediately, old inhibitions vanished as she unwound from the day's physical challenges. Above her, the falls cascaded down the rock face and splashed into the shallows before forming a chest deep pool that followed an outlet to the river.
The cool sensation was heavenly as she dipped her shoulders under the gleaming surface and swam blissfully around the pond. Then braving the onslaught, she moved beneath the waterfall to wash her body and shampoo her hair.
Refreshed by the invigorating shower, she stepped from the spray and immediately felt vulnerable in her state of undress. Her instincts perceived watchful eyes.
A shadow traveled along the bank, and the silhouette of a man stood tall against the moonlight. My God, she was definitely being stalked. Panic seized her as she crouched in the water and waited in silence.
Only then did she hear a voice calling in the wilderness. "Amanda, it's me."
"Lee," she shouted, the name echoing off the canyon wall. Stunned, she didn't move.
In a heartbeat, he broke into a run, shedding his shirt along the path. Pausing at the edge of the pond, he toed out of his boat shoes and yanked off his jeans. Soon a splash in the water and robust strokes brought him into her desperate arms.
"I can't believe it," she cried against his chest. "You're home."
"I am now." Lee's ravenous lips claimed her mouth and his long fingers raked through her tousled hair. Greedily he kissed across her cheek and down the long column of her neck. "What a sight for sore eyes," he finally mumbled against her ear.
"You certainly know how to plan a reunion, pal." Dazed by the sheer joy of his presence, Amanda allowed her body to dictate the moment. Automatically her arms and legs sought purchase around his frame as his eager hands braced her thighs. In seconds, the two became one.
Lee carried his wife from the water and set her feet upon solid rock. Then reverently he wrapped a beach towel around her shivering form and pulled her snug against his body.
With teeth chattering, Amanda confronted her husband with a crucial question. "How did you finally escape from the Soviet Union?" she asked, the long-held fear still evident in her voice. "We had a message about your flight; then you dropped off the radar."
Lee rubbed her back to ease the anxiety. "I knew you'd be worried, but I couldn't risk any communication. The plane to Sweden was forced to land due to terrible weather, so I caught a train to Finland instead. I'll tell you the whole story when we get home, but let's just say a baby helped me escape from behind the Iron Curtain."
Amanda's jaw dropped. "A baby, huh?" The very word sounded foreign coming from the lips of Lee Stetson.
"Yeah, a little girl—about two years old," he replied earnestly. "The mother handed me her screaming daughter before we boarded the train, and I was stuck with the tyke the whole trip. Incredibly the baby liked me, but she sure threw one hell of a temper tantrum that scared off the Soviet soldiers."
"And she didn't scare you?" Amanda asked doubtfully.
He offered a sheepish grin. "Well, maybe a little bit."
Amanda wished she could have watched Lee pacify a toddler. "So your list of talents now includes soothing babies; that's certainly news pregnant with possibilities."
He laughed. "Yes, and it does bring the discussion of another child back into play."
Amanda merely smiled, wondering how soon his newfound enthusiasm for babies would wane. "When did you return?" she asked as she brushed beads of water from his glistening shoulders.
He quivered at her touch. "I flew into Andrews Air Force Base the day before yesterday. Billy sent me directly to medical where I slept off jet lag and overall exhaustion for sixteen straight hours."
"Oh, Lee, you probably need more like sixteen straight days of solid sleep."
"I'll be fine, Amanda."
"What about the Agency debriefing?"
"Don't worry," he replied with a noncommittal shrug. "I played by the rule book up to a point. Then I took a short break."
"Oh no. You went AWOL, didn't you?"
Lee pulled back, capturing her eyes as he defended his actions. "Amanda, no one could reach you by phone. I was scared to death you may be in trouble."
"Well, I'm certainly thankful you came." She shuddered, realizing her heartfelt plea in a dark forest did not go unheeded. Somehow her silent prayer from an old canvas tent bridged the insurmountable distance and brought her husband safely to her arms.
"Hey," he said, engulfing her in another tight embrace. "You're trembling; are you cold?"
"No, just a little emotional. I hope you're not in trouble with the Agency."
He shook his head. "Billy will cut us some slack, especially since he knows our secret."
"Yes, he's been wonderful about our mystery marriage . . ."
"And your post traumatic stress," Lee acknowledged, rocking her back and forth in the slow rhythm that always soothed them both. "I'm here to stay, Amanda. If the Agency ever tries to force us apart again, I'll quit in a heartbeat."
"Thank you, Sweetheart," she whispered against his ear as she breathed in the scent that was so uniquely Lee. Then feeling reborn, she questioned him about the home front. "May I assume my mother is covering for you?"
"You bet. Dotty will send federal agents on a 'snipe hunt,' before she'll snitch on me."
Amanda laughed at the image. "Yes, Mother will lead them all around the Mulberry bush if they pressure her too much. I assume she gave you careful directions to The Gorge?"
"Correct, and she also loaned me the Wagoneer. I'm beginning to think she has the makings of a spy."
"Please, don't go there," Amanda said with a groan.
Their laughter mingled as they reveled in the shared moment of levity. "So," Amanda finally said. "How did you manage to hike the forest and find me at the waterfall?"
Lee heaved a sigh, clearly exhausted by his long search for his family. "After three hours on the road, I reached The Gorge Lodge. Then I rented an ATV and rode it to the end of the main trail. From there, I hiked a quarter of a mile to your camp. You can imagine my angst when I crawled into your tent and found it empty."
"I'm sorry, Sweetheart." Combing her fingers through his wet hair, she pondered her family's reaction. "Did your invasion of the King campsite wake the others?"
"Only Carrie. She was ready to clobber me with a frying pan until she realized I wasn't an intruder."
"So, did she point you to my destination?"
"Yes, she knew you wanted to bathe," he said, placing his hands around her waist. "Honestly, Amanda, you shouldn't have wandered off alone, especially in the buff. Although," he added with a chuckle. "The image of my delightful nymph frolicking in the midst has been seared on my brain forever."
Despite the damp air, she felt a blush warm her cheeks. "Listen, Buster, please remember to keep this between the two of us. My mother will inquire if you got a proper welcome home."
"Oh, I got that and more. However, to play it safe in the future, you may need to confine your free spirit to the indoors."
She rolled her eyes at his double standard. "Look who's talking. Believe me, Lee, I weighed the risk, but with two adolescents and an ex-spouse sharing the woods, I couldn't wait for broad daylight."
"Yeah, I know." Hesitating for a beat, his head turned toward a distant sound emanating from the forest. "Ssh," he said, placing a finger to her lips. Killing the light, he pulled her behind a boulder.
After soundless seconds passed, Amanda whispered against his ear. "What's wrong?"
"Maybe nothing; I'm just being cautious. Let's get dressed and return to camp," he said, grabbing her t-shirt and lowering it over her shoulders. "I'll fill you when we reach safety."
Pulling on her flannel bottoms, Amanda's concern bubbled over. "Sweetheart, what has you so worried?"
Lee merely shook his head as he zipped up his jeans and slipped into his shoes. Then with gun ready, he handed over the rest of their clothes and nudged her toward the trail. They were almost back to camp before he spoke. "I'm afraid someone is tracking us."
She felt an odd mixture of dread and relief as she grasped his arm like a lifeline. "Then I wasn't paranoid."
"When did you feel paranoid?" he asked, his eyes once again perusing the woods.
Her hands trembled at the memory. "I had a bad feeling a couple nights ago. It felt like someone was stalking me at Harpers Ferry."
Lee exhaled a ragged breath. "Amanda, your instincts were right on the mark. The creep I saw in Jamie's photos, your mother's new mailman, and your intruder may be one and the same."
"What exactly are you saying?"
He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. "I'm pretty sure an old Soviet nemesis is after us."
"Who?" she asked, her voice raspy with alarm.
"Do you remember Gregory?"
Amanda shuddered in her husband's arms. "Of course I remember; we bested him twice—once in '85 and again in '86."
"Well, it's payback time." Lee sighed heavily, his hot breath teasing the damp tendrils on her forehead. "Apparently when Gregory discovered me in Moscow, he saw an opportunity to capture Scarecrow and Mrs. King."
"But I wasn't with you."
"No, but in the dark, Leslie O'Connor could pass as you, at least until Gregory had us pinned down in a warehouse and her ineptness gave her away."
Amanda's hands pressed against his chest. "Sweetheart, Leslie visited the house and told me everything."
His body tensed beneath her touch. "Everything, huh?"
"Yes," she said, running her fingers over his cheek. "She even told me that you refused her advances and set her straight about our marriage."
Tucking his gun into the waistband of his jeans, Lee earnestly cupped her face between both hands. "Listen, Amanda, the reason I arranged to meet Leslie at a teahouse was to get a message home to you."
"I know that, Lee."
"When Leslie inserted herself into my escape from Gregory, she nearly got us both nabbed. Only by true grit and pure luck did we dodge his noose. He won't miss this time."
"So, you think he's shifted his focus to me?"
"I do. Gregory's figured out by now that I left the Soviet Union. Certainly he expected me to run straight to you."
Amanda pulled from her husband's arms. "Then he could be stalking our family right now. Lee, the boys . . ."
"They'll be all right," he assured her as they cleared the trees and entered the King campsite.
Together, they took inventory and were satisfied that nothing had been disturbed. Upon scrutinizing each tent, they found everyone breathing and sound asleep. However, neither Lee nor Amanda wanted to let down their guard.
"I'll keep watch, Sweetheart," Amanda said as she led him into her 9' by 9' umbrella tent.
"We'll sleep in shifts," he added, unzipping her sleeping bag and throwing it over both of them. "Wake me in an hour, or as soon as you feel sleepy."
Snuggling close to the warm bulk of her husband, Amanda relaxed into his presence. Lee was home. Maybe danger lurked, but, as a team, they could face just about any of life's challenges.
Silently she catalogued all the little habits that provided comfort whenever they slept together. Lee's breath against her ear was a whispered lullaby and his soft snores were a muted chorus that filled their shared space. His strong thighs cradled her hips, and his long arms held her securely to his chest. She hadn't felt this safe since she was a small child crawling into her parents' bed.
Night noises kept her alert as she fought fatigue. With flashlight in hand, she peered around the tent flap and studied the shifting of shadows. Trees swayed in the breeze and a raccoon scurried away from their stash of food. A furry black creature with a white stripe passed along the forest floor without any evidence of skunk odor.
The chant of the nocturnal whippoorwill blended with the chorus of buzzing insects, croaking frogs, and the babbling brook. Despite her strong resolve to remain awake, nature's music lulled her toward sleep.
At some point, she was roused by movement, but it was only her husband taking on the role of night watchman.
"Sleep tight," he said, brushing her lips with a tender kiss.
"Wake me later," she whispered as she burrowed against his long form and thanked the benevolent universe for his safe return.
Wake-Up Call - June 28
The sound of metal scraping rock jarred both of them. "What the hell!" Lee mumbled as he jerked awake.
"Ssh," Amanda soothed, still on guard duty. "Joe's always the early bird, so he's already up and making coffee."
"Great," he growled as he rolled to his back and pulled the sleeping bag to his chin. "Now the fun begins."
"Go back to sleep," she said, kissing his forehead. "I'll alert him to your arrival."
Hurriedly changing into shorts and pulling her hair back in a ponytail, Amanda crawled from the tent and greeted her ex-husband with enthusiasm. "Good morning, Joe. The day looks promising," she said, noting patches of blue peeking through the lingering fog.
"Maybe for now, but more storms are in the forecast," he countered, failing to muster his natural cheerfulness. "When I walked down to the water's edge, a ranger came by and alerted me to possible dangerous whitewater. He advised staying off the river today."
"We'll have to keep a close eye on the sky," Amanda said as she moved toward the fire pit. Handing over two coffee cups she changed the topic. "Lee caught up with us last night."
"So, I heard," he replied, keeping his tone neutral. "Carrie woke me from a dead sleep, just to tell me the good news."
Studying his rigid demeanor, Amanda detected resentment. "Well, it's certainly good news to me."
Joe slowly rose from his crouch and allowed an expectant pause. "I see you two decided to sleep in the same tent."
"Yes, and the key word is "sleep," she whispered. "Lee's been gone for more than two months and has traveled a great distance to be with me. I certainly wasn't going to leave him out in the cold."
Slapping bacon into a skillet, Joe's abrupt actions betrayed his simmering anger. "Amanda, you haven't revealed your secrets to the boys yet, so why would you taunt them with another suggestion of impropriety?"
Struggling to stifle her temper, she bore the insult with quiet dignity. "Maybe I should have awaken you and asked that we switch places," she proposed with a hint of sarcasm. "You know—one tent for the women and one for the men. Would that have been a better arrangement?"
Joe frowned at her suggestion. "Amanda, I thought we agreed at Easter; this is a family trip."
"And Lee is family."
"Not if the boys don't know," he said with exasperation. "You should have forewarned me that Stetson may show up. Then I'd have packed a fourth tent."
Biting her tongue, Amanda took eggs from the ice chest and began cracking them into a bowl. "You're right," she relented. "The boys will need to be told the truth at breakfast."
"Told what?" Phillip asked as he climbed from the tent and stretched his youthful limbs. Barefoot and wearing a Panama Jack t-shirt and flannel pants, he was still groggy from sleep.
"Get dressed and put some shoes on, son," Joe advised as he exchanged a knowing look with Amanda.
"And, wake your brother," she added. "We need to have a family meeting."
Phillip no sooner disappeared behind the tent flaps, when a large hand pressed against her back. Startled, Amanda jumped at the touch. "Lee, you're awake."
"I suppose the moment of reckoning is here," he said, yanking a sleeveless University of Maryland sweatshirt over his bare chest before proffering a handshake to Amanda's ex-husband.
Joe accepted the offer with an amicable smile. "Lee, welcome home," he said sincerely. "It's time the boys learn your real place in their lives."
"Thanks," he said as he spied his oldest stepson emerging from the pup tent. "Your support will be helpful as we break the news, Joe."
"Hey," Phillip yelled with his over-the-top exuberance. "You're back." Apparently the teen had forgiven any family animosity, because he practically tackled his stepfather with a monstrous hug.
Lee laughed. "Chief, I've missed you."
"I've missed you, too."
Suddenly all joy dissipated as a sullen face appeared in the group. "Good morning, Jamie," Amanda said in her best chipper voice.
"Hey, Sport," Lee added, his tone a bit tentative.
"Hi." Jamie trained his eyes toward the ground as the toe of his sneaker drew circles in the dirt. Then, nudged forward by his father, he offered a polite handshake to the latest arrival.
Lee grasped the boy's hand and leaned over to catch his gaze. "I'm sorry we didn't work things out before I left town. We'll do better from now on. Right?"
Jamie merely nodded and quickly turned away to accept his mother's embrace.
"Such a touching scene," a familiar voice called from the tree line.
Amanda flinched as two men dressed in khaki t-shirts and camouflage fatigues moved into the clearing. "Oh, no."
"Oh, God, it's Gregory." Too late, Lee reached for his gun that no longer rested in the waistband of his jeans. "Damn," he muttered as he eyed his tent.
With a gun pointed at the group, KGB agent Gregory advanced into the campsite. He was followed by his long-time sidekick, Edgar. "Your little family adventure reminds me of the classic American film, Swiss Family Robinson," Gregory said in his composed measured voice. "Or maybe Stetson and Mrs. King are more reminiscent of The Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer. Such an odd pairing in a screwball comedy can be very entertaining."
"Everyone stay calm," Amanda said, noting the startled faces of her children.
"What the hell is this?" Joe demanded. "How dare you enter our campsite with gun drawn?"
"Shut-up," Edgar said as he hurried to Joe's side and pressed a revolver to his ribs.
Carrie, still wearing a flannel nightgown and hair rollers, picked the worst possible moment to exit her tent. "Darling, what's going on?" she asked in alarm.
Motioning for her to join the group, Gregory kept his gun trained on Lee. "Ah, like a circus car full of clowns, the family members just keep coming. Will anyone else pop out of a tent?"
"No," Amanda said curtly.
"Are we being robbed?" Carrie asked, her voice stuttering over every word.
"We're not robbers, ma'am," the tall Soviet answered. "But you extras have become our unwitting pawns." Pressing a finger against his chin, Gregory contemplated his captives. "You could say Mr. Stetson and Mrs. King are my old friends."
"Don't you believe it," Lee growled.
Gregory continued with his speech. "Unfortunately, Stetson and King both ran afoul of old ploys of mine. Thanks to the pretty lady and her partner, I spent six months in a Lubyanka prison for my efforts. Perhaps now, I can even the score and hand them both over to my countrymen. It would redeem my reputation in the eyes of my comrades."
"Hey," Phillip complained, his fingers balled into fists. "Mom and Lee are just government filmmakers. If you have a gripe then take it to International Federal Film."
"Ah, feisty like his mother," Gregory said, turning his gun on the boy.
Like a protective shield, Lee moved in front of his stepsons. "Leave the others alone," he demanded. "Amanda and I will cooperate."
In three long strides, the lanky Russian shifted closer to his prey. "If only it was that easy, Stetson. However, the main road is teeming with tourists and rangers. We'll need to paddle further down river and hike through old growth forest where contacts await our arrival."
"It's too dangerous," Amanda cautioned. "The water level is already high and the rapids are rough. More storms are moving in today."
"Oh, but the King family has been practicing in whitewater," Gregory said in his slow drawl. "Edgar and I watched your progress in Harpers Ferry. How many will fit into your raft would you say—five, six, seven? Maybe one or two will have to stay behind."
Ignoring Edgar's gun poking in his side, Joe stepped forward to argue his losing case. "Let the boys go free."
"And have them run for help?" Gregory chuckled and offered a cryptic smile. "Sorry, I may need them as my sacrificial lambs. Any wrong moves by their elders, and they may suffer an unfortunate accident on the river."
"Why you, scoundrel," the enraged lawyer yelled, throwing a clumsy punch at the predator.
In the same instant, Lee dove for Gregory, wrestling him to the ground.
From behind, Edgar slammed the barrel of his gun against Joe's skull. Knocked unconscious, the King patriarch plunged to the dirt.
Reacting fast, Amanda grabbed the hot coffee pot and bashed the revolver from Edgar's hand. Instantly, she pounced, retrieving the weapon as he withered in pain. "Run," she called to the boys, but, paralyzed from shock, they stayed riveted in place.
With gun pointed at the combatants, Amanda waited for a clean shot as Lee and Gregory rolled over and over on the ground. Encroaching on the fire pit, each fought hard to gain the upper hand. Suddenly Gregory's gun fired and everyone froze.
Amanda held her breath, praying her husband wasn't dead or dying.
Instead, it was Edgar who dropped to the ground, hit in the chest by the stray bullet from his comrade's weapon.
With a herculean effort, Lee got a choke hold on his nemesis, and Gregory's gun fell free.
Unglued by the violence, Carrie rushed the scene and hurled the cast iron frying pan at the struggling pair. Certainly intended for the foe, it grazed Lee's head instead. Stunned, he lost his advantage, and Gregory reclaimed the gun.
As the wailing Carrie dropped to the side of her still husband, the Russian pressed his weapon to Lee's temple. With a fierce glance at Amanda, he gave a final warning. "One false move and I'll pull the trigger."
In the midst of the horrific scene, Jamie felt detached from reality. Seeing his father throw a punch, his mother point a gun, and his brother shed tears weren't any more likely than passing through some imagined portal in time. If he'd just witnessed the unthinkable, then surely he could be yanked back in time to the Wild West or propelled into the future on a space mission to Mars.
However, his rapid heartbeat and dry mouth were testaments to the scene's authenticity. Blood, gunfire, and mayhem were happening in real time and his family was fighting to stay alive.
Unfortunately, four adults and two adolescents were no match for the man named Gregory. By the time the pandemonium ended, his mother and the tall assailant were the only grownups left standing. Steady and dispassionate, the intruder confiscated the weapons as if the task was a natural everyday occurrence. With an expression vacant of remorse, he confronted his hostages. "Mrs. King, you can play nursemaid to the fallen. I assume the mother of two packed a first aid kit."
"Yes, it's in the tent," she said with only the slightest quiver to her voice. Despite her pinched cheeks and hollowed eyes, she managed to convey a hopeful look to her children. "Give me a minute and I'll find the box."
"No, not you." Quickly, Gregory moved to block her path. "Your youngest son can get it."
"Me?" Jamie asked, his voice sounding like a squeaky hinge.
With the weapon pointing in his direction, he willed himself to act. Stumbling over his own two feet, Jamie reached the tent and crawled inside. What a mess, he thought. His mom's usually neat space was cluttered with men's clothing and a duffle bag he'd never seen before this moment. "Not again," he mumbled, realizing Lee Stetson had spent the night.
"Hurry up," Gregory hollered as he peered inside.
"I haven't found it yet," Jamie said, with more anger than fear. God, at the moment, Lee seemed more like the enemy than Gregory. Moving aside a khaki vest and a pair of men' boxer shorts, he found the first aid kit. About to leave, he paused when his knee bumped a hard object. "Ouch," he whimpered. Then lifting the sleeping bag, he saw it—the gleaming barrel of a small revolver. The weapon must belong to his mother's boyfriend, providing Jamie with yet another reason to doubt the trustworthiness of the documentary filmmaker.
However, something deep inside his psyche propelled him to act. Take it, his mind screamed. Gingerly picking up the gun, he opened the first aid kit and tucked the weapon under packages of cotton balls and large gaze bandages. Maybe, just maybe, his mom would see it and know what to do.
Exiting the tent, Jamie was no sooner on his feet when Gregory frisked him and scrutinized the emergency kit. "Here," he said, tossing the box to his mother who went straight to work like Clara Barton on a Civil War battlefield.
Whatever adrenaline surge or frenzied thought caused Jamie to take a risk, the manic effect wore off quickly. Now he was left with grave doubts about claiming the gun. Fear once again coursed through his body.
In glaring contrast, his mother's courage seemed boundless. While she toiled over the enemy, Gregory took aim at Lee as he moaned and stirred from his stupor. "No tricks or you'll have one less knee cap," the trespasser warned. Then pinning the boys with a harsh gaze, he gestured for them to sit down.
Glaring at his captor, Phillip hurried to his unresponsive father and watched as Carrie used the hem of her flannel nightgown to stem the flow of blood from his scalp. "Will Dad be all right?" he asked, his voice choked with fear.
Deeply distraught, Carrie's lips moved, but no words came from her mouth.
Wishing he was trapped in the throes of a nightmare, Jamie's legs buckled as he reached the picnic table. Once again, he claimed the title of wimp. His stomach lurched and his lower lip trembled at the sight of the slaughter. Blotting out the turmoil, he instead concentrated on the disarray of their campsite. The sagging dining fly flapped in the breeze, bacon greased flared in the fire pit, hungry buzzards circled overhead, and a grand parade of ants marched toward the feast of spilled sugar and raw eggs.
Only his mother's strangled voice pulled his focus back to the deplorable scene. "There's no pulse," she said, withdrawing her fingers from the motionless body. "I'm afraid Edgar is dead."
Unruffled, Gregory took the news in stride. Then with a slight nod, he allowed her to check on the useless Mr. Stetson who still lay dazed on the ground.
Kneeling beside him, she reached a hand beneath Lee's neck and raised his head from the dirt.
Wincing from pain, his eyes fluttered open. "What's happening with Gregory?"
"Nothing at the moment, but he's still calling the shots." Tenderly stroking his hair, her fingers traced a line across his forehead. "You have quite a bump." Then shining a flashlight, she checked his pupils.
"I'm all right," Lee protested as he gingerly sat up. "Carrie's damn missile packed quite a wallop."
She looked relieved. "No vomiting, slurred speech, or memory loss. The signs bode well for your recovery."
"Yeah, but I've got a damn headache." Rotating his neck, Lee tested his range of motion.
"Don't try to stand yet," she advised. "Sit still until you regain your equilibrium."
Not ready for an argument, Lee pulled up his legs and rested his head between both knees.
Jamie watched with trepidation as his mother hurried toward the others. Mute and methodical, she dressed the wound of his father who still remained unconscious.
With thunder rumbling in the distance, Gregory's calm demeanor turned agitated. "We can't remain here any longer," he announced. "Stetson, you and the boys must hide Edgar's body behind the boulders. Mr. King will have to be bound, gagged, and moved to his tent."
Staggering to his feet, Lee beckoned to Phillip. "I need your assistance, Chief." Then turning to the youngest, he placed a hand on his shoulder. "Are you up to the task?"
Snapping out of his mental fog, Jamie squirmed under Lee's touch. "We can't leave Dad," he cried, projecting all his misplaced anger into one seething stare aimed at his mother's boyfriend. To himself, he mumbled, "we were doing fine until you showed up. Now look what happened."
Lee abruptly turned away. Then with a nod to Phillip, they labored to move the body of Edgar behind the rocks.
As Gregory supervised their task, Jamie saw his mother pull the gun from the first aid kit, check the ammunition, and secure the weapon inside the pocket of her cargo vest. Wow, he thought. Mom sure learned a lot when she took the self-defense course with her former boyfriend, Dean. Too bad they broke up. Maybe the TV weatherman with his hand to hand combat skills could have come in handy on this trip.
TBC: