Chapter 5

It had been a week since the Second Mass crossed the river. Grace was starting to wonder how many lives her dad had left. After surviving an alien abduction, a gunshot wound, and now an explosion, Capt Weaver had given Tom some much-needed downtime at their new base.

They were currently resting up at a small, abandoned airport. They had a good setup; a roof over their heads, plenty of space - but Anne was becoming increasingly concerned about infection spreading through the camp. Winter was coming and it was getting colder by the day. With the draughty conditions in the building, the doctor was surprised she didn't have a queue of pneumonia cases lining up outside her door. She and Tom seemed to be in agreement that they should move out again soon. It was obvious being off duty was making Tom antsy. He wasn't content if he wasn't throwing himself into the fight. It's what Grace simultaneously loved and hated about him.

"How was your talk with Weaver?" Grace asked, catching up with Tom as he left Weaver's tent.

Her father appeared frustrated as they walked together. "Divided," Tom muttered. "He wants to head north to the Catskills."

"And you think that's a bad idea?"

"The skitters will be banking on us bedding down for the winter," Tom explained. "If we're resting, we're not resisting. We need to continue the fight."

"I've questioned Weaver's leadership a fair few times," Grace began, slowing her walk as she considered Weaver's plan, "but do you think maybe he's right about this one? We're cold, exhausted, sickness is kicking our asses. Maybe we could do with a break?"

Tom stopped and shook his head. "Plenty of wars have been lost from idleness, Grace. We can't let our guard down, even for a minute."

"Okay. Just checking." She smiled at him. "Whatever you think is best, I'll back you up."

He smiled back at her. "You should get some rest. It's late."

Grace glanced up at the large clock on the wall by the hangar entrance. It was a little past midnight. "I can't sleep knowing Ben and Jimmy are out there. I know they'll be fine, it's just...nerves, I guess."

"Hal told me they were out on patrol again. He didn't seem worried. They must make a good team."

"They do. Jimmy's been great."

"You and Jimmy make a good team, too. I've noticed how he is around you. He clearly thinks a lot of you."

"Oh." Grace felt her cheeks start to burn.

Tom chuckled softly, noticing her discomfort. Since Grace was small, Tom seemed to have an empathic talent around her - he always seemed to know how she felt. This time was no exception. "Just...let him down easy, okay?" he advised her.

She gave him a wry smile, nodding. "Night, Dad."

Grace began making her way back to her tent. She'd hardly made three steps when the sound of glass breaking from outside the hangar caught her attention. When she looked behind her, her dad was gone. An eerie silence filled the void.

"Dad?"

Her gut told her something was wrong. She looked around for him, but there was nothing out there except their vehicles sitting in the darkness.

"Oof!"

There was a thud and hushed voices. Something was going on out there. The noise was coming from behind a truck. Pulling her gun from her holster, she slowly approached the back of the vehicle. She took in a deep breath, preparing to strike, but when she leapt out of her hiding place, nobody was there.

Suddenly, a van pulled out from across the parking lot, making her jump back. It sped away from the airport. The driver? One of Pope's Beserker buddies.

"Hey!" she yelled, chasing after them. She'd bet anything that her dad was in the back of that van. She couldn't let them get away. Glancing back towards the airport hangar, she thought about getting Capt Weaver, but the van was already heading out of sight. If she didn't want to lose them, she had to go after them now.

She hopped onto her motorcycle and accelerated after them, making sure to keep her distance. She didn't know what Pope was up to, and she knew couldn't take on all of his gang at once. She had to be careful.

They seemed to be heading into the forest, far out of sight. The more she followed them, the more she felt as though she should have brought back-up.

Eventually, they ditched the van at the side of a dirt road. They pulled out a hooded figure and dragged him into the woods. Her dad. She dug her nails into her palms. She made a pretty good guess what they had planned, and it made her furious. There was no way she'd let Pope get away with this.

She followed them, pulling out her pistol from her holster. If she was going to stop them, she'd have to do this right. She could only take out one at a time. Of course she didn't want it to come to that, but if they forced her - if her father's life was at stake - she wouldn't hesitate

She remained hidden in the shadows, sneaking between trees and bushes. It was hard not to scream as she watched Pope and his followers pushing her dad into a clearing. The big one with the goatee - Grace didn't really know their names - pushed Tom to his knees and undid his bonds as a woman pulled the sack from his head.

God, her dad looked scared. He looked around him, getting his bearings, realising what was happening. She watched as Pope approached him with that smug demeanor he often had.

"Sorry about all the dramatics, professor," he said, loading a bullet into the chamber of his gun.

"What's this all about?" Tom demanded.

"I think you know," said Pope menacingly as he stepped towards him. "I don't know what your alien friends did to you but I for one do not wanna find out."

Grace raised her gun. She aimed for Pope. Maybe if she took him out, her dad could escape in the confusion. She didn't feel good about shooting one of their own, even if it was Pope, but she had to do something.

A twig snapped and she gasped, twisting her head to see Ben and Jimmy coming towards her.

"Ben, thank god," she said under her breath. Then confusion took over her features. "What are you doing out here?"

Ben and Jimmy looked at each other.

"Just patrolling," said Jimmy.

That didn't make sense, thought Grace. They were way too far from the perimeter to be on patrol. She shook her head. That didn't matter now. She grabbed Ben and pulled him closer, showing him the scene that was unfolding in front of them.

"Pope. That asshole," Ben muttered. "I thought I heard voices out here." He looked back at Jimmy, then at Grace. "Where do you want us?"

Now she had back-up, Grace was quick to think of a plan. She and Ben quietly positioned themselves behind the Beserkers while Pope argued with their dad. It was hard not to pick up some of their conversation. Grace hoped Ben couldn't hear the older man's bitter insults, but that was pretty much impossible thanks to his new super hearing.

"I'm going to give you the chance to do the honourable thing and walk away," Pope said, looking down at Tom threateningly.

"Just like that?" replied Tom incredulously. "You expect me to walk away from the Second Mass? Leave my kids in your care?"

"Your kids'll be looked after as if they were my own. That's a promise." Pope put a gloved hand on his heart. "Including the princess, though I'm pretty damn sure over a hundred of us are dead because of her and whatever bug they put in her, just like they did with you."

Grace could feel Ben's gaze on her; she was trying not to let her emotions show. She just concentrated on Pope and how close he was getting to their dad.

"And I'll even look out for the spiky one," sneered Pope. "Unless he goes full skitter then all bets are off."

Grace chewed her lip. She was practically squeezing the handle of her gun. She couldn't help edging closer, desperate to get this over with.

"Wait for Jimmy," Ben reminded her, pulling her back.

She breathed deeply, nodding at him.

"You're not gonna get away with this," said Tom, shaking his head.

Pope bent down to Tom's level so they were eye-to-eye. "Oh, I think I can. You'd be surprised how many people back at camp are creeped out over your triumphant return. Not so many people will miss you as you might think. So do us all a favour. Start walking."

Tom didn't move. Nobody did. Then Pope grabbed Tom and pulled him up, shoving him.

"I said, move!"

That's when Jimmy fired his shot at the ground, right by Pope's feet. They all recoiled, looking around them in a panic.

"What the hell?"

Grace immediately sprung out with Ben. Her brother grabbed Pope, holding a knife to his throat.

"Drop your weapons!" he yelled.

Grace pointed her gun at the Beserkers, who instantly turned their weapons on her.

"Grace...Ben?" Tom watched, confused.

"He said drop 'em!" Grace repeated, swinging her gun between each Beserker's nervous face.

Another gunshot by Pope's feet spooked them.

"He won't miss next time!" Ben said loudly, still holding the blade. Grace could tell from Pope's face - they had them beat.

Pope threw his weapon on the ground and the others followed suit. Tom immediately picked up one of their rifles.

"Nice job, Jimmy," called Grace as the young boy emerged from the trees with his rifle.

"Jimmy?" Tom said, surprised to see him.

"Hi, Professor Mason."

"What are you doing out here?"

"On our way back from patrol," Ben answered. He had yet to remove the blade from Pope's neck.

"You're a long way from the outer perimeter there, lizard-" Pope muttered before Tom swiftly punched him in the gut. Pope grunted, doubling over. Grace smirked at his pain.

Tom handed her another of the Beserker's rifles which she swung over her shoulder.

"I'm just glad you're here," he said to her. "Jimmy - grab that other rifle. We'll take it back to camp."

"What about them?" Grace asked, narrowing her eyes at Pope and his goons. She half-hoped Tom would say to leave them out here. She didn't want them anywhere near the Second Mass anymore. They didn't deserve to come back. But she knew her father was better than that.

"That's for Captain Weaver to decide," he answered.

"You didn't know anything about this Anthony?" demanded Captain Weaver, narrowing his eyes at the former cop as they discussed the event in his tent later that morning. Grace had given her report of what happened, along with Tom, Ben, and Jimmy. Now she was waiting to see what would be done about it.

"No, sir."

For some reason, Weaver didn't look convinced. Grace knew Anthony wouldn't have allowed this to happen if he knew, so she believed him when he claimed that was the case. This was all on the Beserkers.

"I think the Beserkers have outlived their usefulness," mused Hal who stood behind Anthony, arms folded.

"Agreed," said Weaver. "They're out of control. When we move out for the Catskills, we leave them behind."

It may have sounded harsh, but it wasn't. Not to Grace. Weaver's words were music to her ears.

"Sounds good to me, Cap," she replied.

But Tom didn't appear satisfied with Weaver's solution. He leaned forward in his seat. "Lyle, Tector, Crazy-Lee, are just following orders. They're not the problem. Pope's the problem."

"It's not just Pope." Another voice came from the entrance of the tent. Grace was surprised to see Casey standing there. "Captain Weaver asked me to come, I hope I'm not interrupting."

"No, please," said Weaver, gesturing her over. "I wanted to get your take on this, Casey. You've spent some time with the Beserkers."

Casey nodded gently, taking a few steps towards the group. "That's right. We play cards now and then. I'm sorry about what happened, Tom." She turned to him apologetically. "I had no idea they were planning this."

Tom gave her a forgiving smile. "You and the Beserkers are friendly with each other. What's your opinion on them?"

Casey thought for a few seconds. "Well, you have to admit, they have a point."

Grace raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm not condoning their actions," she added. "But it's obvious they're nervous about Tom since...you know."

"Right," agreed Anthony. He turned to Tom. "No offence, but no one knows what the aliens might have done to you."

"No, no, no. Doctor Glass removed whatever it was," said Hal, coming closer. He looked like he was tired of saying that.

"Or we just found what they wanted us to," Anthony replied. "I'm just saying, Pope isn't the only one wondering if Tom is a walking time bomb."

"That's ridiculous, Anthony," scoffed Grace.

"Is it?" Casey added. "A lot of people are still kinda shaken up by what happened."

Grace stared at her, unsure how to respond. She was angry her friends were saying these things, but she knew there had to be some truth to their words. She just didn't want to believe it.

"They're right," Tom sighed, his gaze lowering to the mess of maps on the table. "We can't be a hundred percent certain what they did to me. I could still pose a threat to the group."

Grace turned to her father, a disbelieving look on her face. "What?"

"Dad, there's no way you're a threat -" Hal said before his father continued.

"But we've lost a lot of fighters. The Second Mass isn't in a position to be picky." Tom got to his feet. "The benefit of giving me a weapon outweighs the risk of me being a liability. Wouldn't you say, captain?"

"That's how I see it, yes," affirmed Weaver.

"Well, then, the same has to hold true for Pope."

Weaver squinted at him. "You lost me there, Tom."

"We need him. For better or worse, they listen to him."

Grace rolled her eyes. "Dad, he tried to kill you. More than once!"

"Exactly," said Tom. "The Beserkers do the things that the rest of us can't or won't."

"We've given Pope enough chances already," argued Weaver. "Something has got to change."

"Agreed." Tom nodded. He looked down thoughtfully for a beat before meeting Weaver's strong gaze again. "Assign me to the Beserkers."

They all stared at him like he'd grown an extra head.

"If I know where he is, I can keep an eye on him," Tom explained.

"Dad, no!" snapped Grace. Had he forgotten already what they did to him? "You can't trust them. Who's to say they won't pull another stunt like this?"

"Assign me, too," Casey spoke up. She looked around the room as everyone turned to stare at her. "I'll look out for Tom while he keeps an eye on Pope. He won't try anything while I'm there. Trust me." She smiled at Tom. "You're safer with me there."

Tom looked towards Weaver. "Sounds good to me. So?" He picked up his rifle from the table. "Permission to join the Beserkers, Captain?"

Weaver took a moment to consider the request, even glancing at Anthony who shrugged at him and turned his head away. Then he looked at Grace. She was less passive, gently shaking her head at him. Eventually, Weaver sighed. "Fine." He turned back to Tom. "Permission granted."

Tom smiled triumphantly, but Grace was less than pleased about the outcome. She pushed past Casey and left the tent without being dismissed. On her way across the hangar, she heard a voice calling after her. She turned around to see Casey catching up to her. But Grace wasn't really interested in what she had to say.

"How could you defend Pope like that?" Grace snapped. "You know what he's capable of."

"I do, and I know there's a method to his madness, Grace. He just needs a push in the right direction every now and then. The Beserkers are good people."

Grace snorted. She knew Casey liked to beat Pope's ass at poker every now and then, but she didn't know she was this deluded. "You really don't know what he's like," Grace muttered. "You didn't see him before he joined the Second Mass." She thought back to when she had the displeasure of first meeting John Pope and his original gang of thugs. When his brother grabbed her from her camp and tied her up at the school. And she met Maggie. Poor Maggie. It made her shudder, thinking what Pope's old gang did to her. And if Maggie hadn't saved them like she did, she might have endured the same treatment.

Casey blinked at her. "What do you mean?"

Grace focused back on Casey's face. Her brow furrowed. Grace shook her head. It wasn't her place to say. "Nevermind. Just...make sure nothing happens to my dad, okay?"

"I promise I will," Casey smiled at her.

Grace nodded, barely returning the smile. She headed back for her tent to try to get some rest. At least she could trust Casey to make sure her dad was safe with them. Otherwise, she wouldn't have let this go.

Her father's life was literally in her hands.