Constant Fear by Daniel Palmer

Book Preface

“Death doesn’t schedule an appointment.”

Jake Dent had said this on many occasions, but wasn’t certain the mantra had stuck in his son’s teenage brain. Still, it was the truth. Death could show up at any hour, on any day, uninvited, unwelcomed.

Jake was dressed for the cool March weather; and much like a hunter, he wore three layers to protect him from the elements. The windproof fabric of his camouflage jacket was a four-color woodland pattern, designed to blend with the widest variety of western Massachusetts foliage.

It would help him evade the enemy.

At three o’clock in the morning, his son would be sound asleep. Sure enough, Jake could hear heavy breathing through the hollow-core door to Andy’s bedroom. Jake could have upgraded that door to a more substantial model, but it would have been an unnecessary expense. Jake opted to invest his limited resources in products that could help him and his son stay alive. Priorities. For this reason, Jake kept everything to only essentials in the double-wide trailer he and Andy called home.

To reach safety, Jake and Andy would have to traverse several miles of rugged woodland in complete darkness. If anything went wrong en route to their destination, they’d carry enough provisions to make the forest their new home until it was safe to move again. Everything Jake needed to survive was stored neatly inside his GOOD (Get Out of Dodge) pack. The nylon camouflage bags mounted to an ALICE frame, standard issue for the U.S. military for some years, offered plenty of storage. Two zippers on the front of the bag allowed rapid access to the contents within.

Inside the bags, Jake had packed three liters of water—one liter per day per person—as well as a four-liter water-filtration system. The other contents of his pack were equally vital. If they couldn’t reach their destination, the meals and energy bars would provide enough nutrition for several days. Jake prepared for the “ifs” as if they were certainties.

He had packed enough clothing for a weekend camping trip. Sturdy boots, long pants, long underwear, two shirts (good for layering), two socks (wool, not cotton), two hats, and a bandanna. Bandanas had multitudes of uses, Jake had discovered over the years. A tent and ground tarp would provide some protection from the elements, and his down-filled sleeping bag was long and wide, perfect to cocoon his broad-shouldered, six-two frame. Jake had also packed three different ways to make fire, cooking gear, hygiene products, a first aid kit, and, perhaps the most important item of all, a .357-caliber SIG SAUER P226, carried by police officers and the military. Jake’s SIG held fifteen 9mm rounds and was a durable weapon that could thrive in tough conditions.

Jake opened Andy’s bedroom and sidestepped several piles of clothes strewn about like mini moguls. Standing beside Andy’s bed, Jake gazed at his son and watched him sleep. They should be moving, and quickly, but he couldn’t resist the urge to stop and stare. Even though Andy was sixteen—Sixteen? How did that happen?—Jake could see the little boy lurking inside the young man. This was his son, the one person in life Jake most wanted to protect.

With his ruffled mop of curly, dark hair and penetrating chocolate eyes, Andy would one day grow into a truly handsome man. But according to him, the girls at Pepperell Academy—popular, preppy, and loaded with cash—focused on Andy’s braces, his nose (a bit too big for his face), a slight peppering of acne, and thin arms not yet muscular. While the awkward teenage years lingered, Andy would concentrate his energies on things other than dating.

Andy’s cluttered room was typical of any teen. Posters on the walls showed characters from the hit television shows Doctor Who, The Big Bang Theory, and some cartoon that was apparently an Internet thing Jake didn’t even pretend to understand. The most spectacular object in Andy’s cramped but cozy bedroom was a desk he and his friends had built to look like a large-scale model of a TIE Fighter from the Star Wars movies. Andy and his pals from Pepperell Academy were self-proclaimed geeks, and damn proud of it.