Single Minded

Chapter Three

One more mile.

That's all that was left to travel before he reached the fortified walls of Washington D.C. and would finally be reunited with Rebecca. Daniel triumphantly eyed the one mile marker, bringing his high powered binoculars to his face; he could see the dark shape of the city's walls, the sight of it foreboding in the pale winter sunlight. The small figures of soldiers manning the walls were barely visible, even though it was only lightly snowing. Daniel lowered the binoculars, a grin plastered onto his face. He felt as if there were a force that had been removed, a certain tension lifted off his shoulders that had been holding him down. Daniel unzipped the top portion of his jacket, reaching into the pocket inside it, and withdrew his wallet. He pulled out the photo of Rebecca and Grace, running his thumb over Rebecca's face as if he were caressing her cheek. Inhaling the crisp air, he tucked the photo back into the window of his wallet and put the wallet back in his pocket, zipping up his jacket. Cradling his M4 in his hands, Daniel began to walk, steadily picking up the pace until he was jogging towards the city, weaving around rusted cars and snow banks. He repeated only one thought in his head, as if it were a mantra: I'm going to see Rebecca again. I'm going to see Rebecca again.

The scene was almost perfect. The snow lightly falling from the heavens, blanketing the ground in a thick, white powder, and the only sound that Daniel could hear was the sound of his own breathing and the sharp crunch of snow underneath his feet. The small amount of sunlight that broke through the clouds reflected on the snow resting on the trees, edging him on towards the city. Come on Daniel, he encouraged himself, his end goal right in sight, just keep running. You're almost there. Daniel could see a small outpost just beyond the wall, a few soldiers milling about as they enjoyed a cup of refreshing coffee in the frigid evening air. One of them turned around and noticed him, alerting the rest of the soldiers there of his presence. He raised his hand in greeting, letting his assault rifle hang from its strap.

That's when the headlight of the pickup truck next to him exploded in a shower of sparks.

Daniel spun around to see who was shooting, bringing up his M4. Slightly up the road, he could see the shapes of seven figures carrying weapons, the sun against their back making them only silhouettes. He cursed, ducking as another bullet ricocheted off a car a few feet away from him, and dove towards a car in the opposite direction. Obviously, Victor and his crew had somehow caught up to him, and Daniel had been too blinded by the prospect of making it to Washington D.C. and seeing his wife again to notice them. He cursed himself and stuck the barrel of his rifle over the hood of the car, blind firing off a couple of shots. The pained cry of a man carried over the wind, and Daniel heard a couple of shouts in the bandits' direction. Daniel grimly smiled. That's one of them down. Daniel shifted a little to the left, peeking through the shattered window of the car sure enough, Daniel spotted the writhing form of a man on the ground, clutching his stomach as he called out for help. The rest of the bandits had scattered, running for cover. Not wanting to take any chances, Daniel stood up and ended the man's life with a three round burst, silencing his cries.

He quickly ducked down again, shooting a glance at the soldiers that were at the outpost. To his relief, they were mobilizing, grabbing weapons and ammunition as they prepared to enter combat. A few of them were already out of the barbed-wire topped fenced in outpost, coming to Daniel's aid. With renewed energy, Daniel rose from the hard packed snow beneath him and ran towards the soldiers, occasionally taking glances back at the bandits. One of them popped his head up from behind a car, and Daniel turned around, backpedaling as he fired off a three round burst at the man. The bandit's head exploded in a shower of crimson mist, his body collapsing to the ground, not even able to get out a shout of alarm.

Another two popped up, aiming their weapons at Daniel and firing, kicking up little clouds of snow around his feet. He swore, turning around and sprinting towards a tipped over eighteen wheeler. Thank God that I took cross country in high school, Daniel thought, the blood pumping in his ears as he threw his body to the side, narrowly dodging a bullet that instead struck a mile marker on the edge of the road that was barely a foot away from him, throwing sparks. He could see that the soldiers were now progressing up the road, away from their outpost, and they were looking past him to where Victor and his bandits were, firing off a couple of rounds. Daniel could barely make out their faces from their bodies, the snow patterned camouflage fatigues they wore making them blend into the background. Really, the only way someone would be able see them is if they saw their faces or the weapons they were carrying.