Where is your son?”

“Lloyd’s at summer camp.” Evelyn’s motherly anxiety is etched on her expression and the wavering sound of her voice tells Greg she had momentarily forgotten about her son’s absence with the other dangers around them.

Over the last six months, she had gotten used to seeing Washington security work, or at least she thought she had. This is something different, though, and the appearance of these men at her home amongst the sounds of what seem like distant warfare is making her tremble with fear.

“Sir, ma’am, we have to make sure your son isn’t here. Are you certain he is not in the house?”

“No. He’s at summer camp like my wife said. I told them where he was when I called. What’s going on?”

“Are there any other children or adolescents in the house?”

“No!” Greg yells at the man for ignoring his questions. “Now tell me what the hell is going on! What is happening out there?”

“Sir, I am Agent Everett, and we’re with Homeland Security,” he says showing his identity badge. “I have to ask you to step into your house, and we can answer the rest of your questions inside. It isn’t safe out here; we don’t know how many of them live in this area.”

Greg and Evelyn are ushered nervously into their house followed by four men in suits with guns drawn.

Agent Everett turns to dismiss the police officer.

“Thank you for your cooperation in getting us here, Officer. I’m sure you will have plenty to do today, and we shouldn’t keep you from your duties any longer than we already have.”

The dismissal is polite enough, but you could hear the strain in Everett’s voice as he spoke.

“Representative Cavanaugh, I have a phone number you’re supposed to call to be filled in, do you have a phone?”

“Yes, right here,” he says showing his smartphone.

“Only land lines will be working now, I’m afraid. There is a national emergency going on, the cell phone lines have been shut down to prevent panic from spreading.”

“If you think shutting down phone lines will prevent panic, you’re kidding yourself.”

“I don’t make the rules, sir. I’m just repeating what we were told. Do you have a land line?”

“Yes, it’s in here.”

The distant sounds of more yelling and gunfire drift in through the open back door until the final man pulls it closed. Evelyn paces back and forth while her husband dials the number Agent Everett gave him. Earlier, her demeanor changed from fearful to anxious, now she looks more resolute, almost determined to take on whatever comes their way as she rubs her swollen belly.

The conversation is brief, and Evelyn watches as her husband shrinks into the chair with every nod and acknowledgment he utters at the phone. When he is done, he lifts the receiver to Agent Everett who takes it from him.

“They need to give you instructions,” he says in a depressed and hollow tone.

Standing to face his wife, Evelyn is shocked to see her husband look aged and defeated from the call. The only other time she saw him like this was after he learned of his father’s death.

“What is happening?”

“They will take us to a secure location.”

“Who is picking up Lloyd? Are they sending someone to pick him up?”

He looks at her and shakes his head.

“They brought all of these men with them because of Lloyd.”

Evelyn doesn’t understand and puts her hand to her mouth in a mix of concern and shock. What could her twelve-year-old son have done to bring Homeland Security to their home with guns drawn?

“This is a mistake, right? I mean Lloyd has never done anything wrong. He didn’t access some of your work on your computer before he left, did he?”

Greg grabs his wife into a hug. The type of hug no mother wants to feel when discussing a child. It is a hug of desperation, a grip of despair.

“It isn’t about the computer. It has to do with the shootings and screams outside.”

Chapter Three

The Taylors

9:37AM

Santiam Forest, Oregon

 

“Mmmm, that smells good.” The aroma of bacon and eggs wafts into the tent when Robert opens the zipper.

“Hey, sleepy head, everyone else is outside eating already, but I thought I would let you sleep in.”

Rolling over with a stretch and a groan, she smiles at her husband and whispers, “Thank you.”

“Tell me what you’d like to eat and I’ll get started on it.” He smiles while reaching for the tube of sun block he came in to get. “If you’re going hiking with us, you need to get moving, Tanya. The kids are finishing their food, and I just came to get their sun block on and we can go.”

“I can finish whatever’s left if it will save us time.”

“I’ll have to make more for you. There won’t be anything left when they’re done.”

“Okay. I’ll take some scrambled eggs and bacon and I’ll be out in a few.”

“Love you.” He smiles and leaves the tent.

“I love you too,” she calls out to his retreating shadow.

Nothing is easy when you have kids. That isn’t to imply that it should be avoided or isn’t worthwhile, because it is.