Tracie Hicks

The summer sun dappled the forest floor of the Black Hills, casting a golden glow on the tall ponderosa pines. The laughter of two children rang out, echoing through the trees, but there was an edge to it – a brittleness that hinted at the darkness of the world beyond their small sanctuary.

“Give that back, Kevin!” Katelyn yelled, frustration straining her voice as she lunged for the crumpled paper in her brother’s hand.

Kevin dodged her grasp, darting between the rough trunks with a mocking grin. “No way, sis! You gotta be faster than that!” Kevin then skidded to a halt, eyes wide. 

Katelyn plowed into him and tumbled to the pine-needle-strewn ground with a growl of anger.

“Shh!” Kevin hissed. “Mom and Dad can’t know about this, alright? Now be quiet.” He jammed the paper into his jeans pocket, defiance replacing his momentary fear.

Katelyn glared, but gave a curt nod. As the sun began its descent, bronzing the treetops, they gathered scattered berries and nuts, an uneasy silence stretching between them. The comforting scent of roasting fish wafted from their campsite, but the sour tang of constant fear lingered beneath it.

Jack looked up from the crackling campfire, his dark skin gleaming with sweat, his eyes hooded and wary as he watched his children approach. “What took you two so long?” His voice was rough, thrumming with tension like a bowstring drawn taut.

Kevin and Katelyn exchanged a quick, furtive glance, a lifetime of secrets passing between them in that momentary meeting of eyes. 

Kevin shrugged, not meeting his father’s gaze. “Katelyn kept tripping over everything. Slowed us down.”

Jack’s jaw tightened, his gaze boring into his son’s face. “Did you do what your mother asked? Stick to the safe paths. Stay within earshot?”

They nodded, not quite meeting his eyes, and handed over their foraged offerings to their mother, Lucy. She took them with slim, trembling hands, her once-bright hair now lank and dull, face lined with strain and grief. She placed the berries and nuts into a roughly carved wooden bowl. 

Jack pulled Kevin aside, his fingers digging into the boy’s shoulder with bruising force. “You didn’t go off on one of your adventures, did you?” he asked, his voice low and intense. “You know that could bring trouble down on us, get us caught. We can’t afford to take those risks, son.”

Kevin swallowed hard, his eyes skittering away from his father’s burning gaze. “No, sir, we stayed on the trails, like we promised.” His fingers drifted to the paper hidden in his pocket, its presence burning against his skin like a brand.

Jack’s brow furrowed as he studied Kevin’s face. “I feel like you’re not giving me the full truth here. Your adventures, your ‘explorations’… they’ll put us all in danger. You understand that, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” Kevin mumbled, shrinking in on himself. “I understand.”

Lucy called out to them. “Dinner’s ready. Come and eat while it’s hot.”  

They gathered around the fire in silence, the weight of unspoken words and constant fear pressing down upon them, suffocating in its intensity.

As they ate, Katelyn looked at her parents with innocent curiosity. “Mommy, Daddy? What does ‘war’ mean?”

“Hush, Katelyn!” Kevin snapped. But their parents shared a long, bleak look.

Tears welled in her eyes, but Katelyn stuck out her chin in stubborn defiance. “I will not shut up! I want to know! We should know!”

Lucy and Jack exchanged a long, bleak look. “Where did you hear that word, honey?” Lucy asked quietly. 

“Kevin and I found a paper in the ruins of Hill City. It talked about a big war from a long time ago.” Katelyn picked at her food, her appetite fleeing. “But Kevin said I shouldn’t ask.”

“And I was right!” Kevin burst out. “Wasn’t I? We’re not supposed to talk about that stuff, about what happened before! It’s not safe!”

“Not safe.” Jack sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “No, nowhere is safe. Not for anyone, not anymore.” He caught Lucy’s gaze again and saw his own exhaustion and despair mirrored there. “I guess it’s time they knew the whole truth, Lucy. They have to be ready and understand what we’re facing.”

Lucy reached out and gripped his hand, her fingers cold and bloodless. She gave a slow, pained nod, and turned back to her children, unshed tears glittering in her dark eyes.

“It all started back in 2024, with the growing tensions in the country,” Jack said. “Political divisions, economic inequality, environmental crises- they’d been fueling social unrest for years. But foreign powers were exploiting it, too. Russia, China, Iran, North Korea…” 

Lucy nodded, her gaze distant with memory. “They used illegal immigration as a tool to undermine America’s stability. Flooded us with migrants, many of whom were trained operatives, to strain our resources, create chaos, take over cities like New York, and turn Americans against each other.” 

Jack continued, “The tipping point was the disputed 2024 presidential election. It led to mass protests, counter-protests, and armed clashes between rival factions. With our beliefs in peace, legal immigration, hard work, putting America and its people first. Your mother and I knew we’d be targets in that increasingly violent and racist environment.” He stood and paced around the fire. “I was a Marine stationed at Fort Worth, Texas, when it all went to hell. The foreign powers- Russia, China, Iran, and North Korea- finally launched their main assault. I left my post and raced home to your mother.”

Jack’s mind raced back to that fateful day when their world changed forever.

Jack burst through the front door. “Lucy! LUCY!”

She ran out of the kitchen, eyes wide with fear. “Jack? What’s wrong?”

He gripped her arms, his voice tight. “It’s begun, baby. We’re under attack! Those foreign powers made their move- they’ve killed hundreds, maybe thousands of people who tried to oppose them. Nowhere is safe now, especially not for patriots like us.”

Lucy clutched at his shirt, her knuckles white. “Oh God… what do we do? Where can we go?”

“Canada,” Jack said. “Their forces are holding the line at the border. They’re letting in refugees. We have to try.” He released her and rushed to the bedroom closet, yanking out two pre-packed bug-out bags.

Lucy’s eyes widened. “What about Mexico? It’s so much closer!”

Jack shook his head. “Mexico has fallen- it’s where the enemy invasion force staged from, where they funneled in weapons and operatives masquerading as immigrants.” He pressed a bag into Lucy’s shaking hands. “We can’t risk it.”

Tears streamed down her face as she glanced at the family photos arranged on the fireplace mantle- her parents and siblings in Japan, Jack’s Cherokee mother and mixed-race father with his European ancestors. “Our families, Jack… did you reach them? Are they safe?”

Jack pulled her into a fierce embrace, blinking back his tears. “I tried, Lucy. Phones are out. Everything’s in chaos. Dad and Mama…” He swallowed hard. “We can only pray they made it out in time. At least we know your folks are secure in Japan. But we have to move, now, while we still can.”

“But your unit—the Marines! Aren’t you abandoning them? Won’t you be AWOL?”

He gave a harsh, mirthless laugh. “Honey, my base was attacked from within. Massive casualties, chain of command in shambles. Any survivors are scattering to protect their families, just like I am. If I hadn’t deserted my post, I’d be dead too- and unable to get to you.”

Lucy took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded. She took one last look around their home, mentally bidding farewell to the life they had built. Jack took her hand, his grip strong and comforting. “I know. But we’ll survive this, together. I swear it. Now let’s go.”

They crept out the back door and fled into the gathering gloom.

Jack and Lucy took the back roads. They tried to avoid any major thoroughfares. They got too close to the Mexico border. Shots were fired at them, damaging their truck. Jack sped up till they were far from the border. Jack noticed the old pickup’s engine smoked, wheezing and clanking.

Jack pounded the steering wheel in frustration. “Dammit! We need to find a new ride.”

Lucy pointed. “There! That gas station!”

Jack pulled in and grabbed his pistol. “Stay here. Stay down.”

Lucy crouched low, peering over the dashboard with frightened eyes. Jack moved cautiously, scanning for threats. He peered into the station window and recoiled- the interior was a bloody slaughterhouse, the floor slick with congealing blood, the bodies piled high.

Swallowing bile, Jack moved to the garage. The bay door stood open, revealing a sleek motorcycle parked inside. It was their only chance.

He hurried back to the truck. “Okay, I found us some wheels. Let’s go, quickly now.”

As they sped from the station, Lucy whispered, “Jack… back at the border as they sped from the station. Those men who shot at us… who were they?”

“I’m not sure,” Jack replied, his brow furrowing. “Could’ve been North Koreans or Iranians. Hard to tell in the chaos.”

Lucy shook her head in disbelief. “An actual, honest-to-God invasion… how could this happen to us?”

Jack gunned the bike down the highway. “I don’t know, baby. I guess we just got too soft, too complacent. Let the rot spread too far. But those unholy alliances won’t last. Evil always turns on itself. We just have to stay alive long enough to see it happen.”

Hours later, Jack pulled off the road near a weathered sign welcoming them to the Caverns of Sonora. He killed the bike’s engine and helped the stiff, exhausted Lucy off.

“We’ll hole up here for a while, catch our breath. The caves will provide good shelter.”

Lucy looked around as they trekked into the gloom, the bike hidden under a camouflage tarp.

Deep underground, Jack built a small, tended fire. Shadows danced on the slick rock walls.

Lucy huddled in his arms, wrapped in a sleeping bag against the subterranean chill.

In the darkness, she wept, deep, wracking sobs that shook her whole body. “All those people, Jack! Butchered like animals! Strung up, burned alive… oh God, the smell!”

“I know, Lucy. I know.” He stroked her hair, murmuring broken words of comfort. “The ones on the crosses… they went after the Jews first. Then, American Muslims. Then, the lynchings started with minorities and white people. No race or religion is safe. If you are an American, you are going to die.”

Lucy pulled back to search his eyes, her face a mask of despair. “What about our families, Jack? What do you think…?”

He sighed and pulled her close again. “I don’t know, sweetheart. I pray they made it out and found somewhere safe to hide. But we can’t think about that now. All we can do is survive. Survive, and remember. Remember what—who—we’re fighting for.”

The following day, Lucy woke nauseous and threw up at the cave entrance. Jack rushed to steady her. Concern etched on his face. “Lucy? You alright?”

She waved him off. “I’m fine, Jack. It’s just… stress. Nerves.” But a sliver of hope kindled in her heart. Could it be? She pushed the thought down. This was no world to bring a child into. Not anymore.

Jack looked around at his family with a sad, tender smile. “So now you know. That’s how it all started- how we ended up on the run, living in the woods like fugitives in our own homeland.”

Lucy reached over to take his hand. “What your father didn’t know, when he found me puking my guts out in front of that cave, was that I was pregnant.” She looked at Kevin, her eyes shining. “Pregnant with you, my sweet boy. Our little miracle in the darkness.”

Kevin ducked his head, cheeks flushed, pleased and embarrassed by his mother’s words.

Jack stood and stretched, joints popping. “And now you know why we don’t like you kids wandering off on adventures. Why we have to stay alert, and stay hidden. This world… it’s not kind to families like ours. Not anymore.”

The family huddled around the flickering campfire, and an eerie stillness settled over the forest. The usual nighttime sounds of chirping crickets and rustling leaves had gone silent, replaced by a heavy, oppressive quiet that set Jack’s nerves on edge. He stood, his hand reached for the rifle that never left his side.

“Jack?” Lucy whispered, her eyes wide with fear. “What is it?”

He held up a hand, motioning for her to stay silent. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he scanned the darkness beyond the reach of the firelight. Something was out there, watching. Waiting.

As the fire burned low, an eerie stillness enveloped the forest. Jack stood, gripping his rifle as the hairs on his neck prickled. Something was out there, an unseen menace stalking the shadows.

A twig snapped. The Black Hills echoed with violence once more, a grim reminder that even the deepest wilderness couldn’t shut out the cruelty of the world beyond.