Chapter 7 - The Battle for the Mountain
The rain began to fall as Eric’s truck climbed back into the Pennsylvania mountains. This time, he wasn't alone. Behind him rode three heavy tactical vehicles containing members of his former deployment team—men who had bled with him in the desert and who didn't take kindly to a brother's daughter being put in the dirt.
When they reached the perimeter of the Savage farmhouse, the scene was chaotic. A massive yellow excavator was already parked in the backyard, its diesel engine roaring as its heavy steel bucket tore into the wet earth just three feet away from the boards covering Sarah Chun's grave. Vance Sr. and Vance Jr. stood near the back porch, directing the operator, while Myrtle Savage watched from the kitchen window, a cup of tea held in her skeletal hands.
Eric slammed his truck through the wooden front gates of the property, the heavy steel bumper splintering the timber with a resounding crash. The other three vehicles swerved into the yard, blocking the excavator’s path of escape, their headlights flashing through the heavy gray fog.
Vance Jr. immediately reached into his jacket, his hand moving toward his weapon, but before his fingers could even touch the grip, Marcus Vance stepped out of the lead vehicle, pointing a tactical shotgun directly at the investigator's chest.
"Don't even think about it, suit," Marcus barked, his voice booming over the sound of the excavator's engine. "Step away from the machine. Right now."
Eric stepped out of his truck, walking straight toward the excavator. He climbed up the metal tracks, reached into the cab, and grabbed the operator by the collar of his shirt, yanking him out of the seat and tossing him onto the muddy grass below. He shut off the engine, plunging the backyard into a sudden, tense silence broken only by the sound of the rain.
"You're disrupting a lawful construction project, McKenzie!" Vance Sr. yelled, his hands held high in the air as the other soldiers surrounded him. "This is private property! You're committing federal trespassing!"
"The feds are already on their way, Vance," Eric said, stepping down from the machine and standing over the boards covering the grave. "And they're not coming for a property dispute."
Suddenly, the front door of the farmhouse burst open. Myrtle Savage stepped out onto the porch, but she wasn't holding her walking stick anymore. She held an old, rusted double-barreled shotgun, her eyes wide with a maniacal, unhinged fury.
"You won't take this house!" she screamed, raising the barrel toward Eric. "The world is full of wicked children! They must be cleansed! They must be put in the earth!"
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BANG.
A shot echoed through the mountains, but it didn't come from Myrtle's gun. Marcus had fired a non-lethal beanbag round directly into the old woman's shoulder, the force of the impact knocking her off her feet and sending the shotgun clattering across the wooden porch. The soldiers moved in instantly, securing her hands behind her back as she shrieked curses into the rain.
