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The Volunteer

Page 26

by J B Cantwell


  I kicked the man gently in the shin. He didn’t wake. I did it again, harder this time, and he snorted. I looked at Alex and rolled my eyes.

  This guy was out.

  “Hey,” Alex said, his voice booming in the tiny space. “Hey, wake up, buddy.”

  The man snorted again, and I noticed a half-empty bottle of whiskey tucked into the couch cushions next to him. I gave him a good, hard kick.

  His eyes fluttered open, staring into the fire, not even noticing us at first.

  Then, “Hey, what’s the deal?” he said, his words slurring. He looked up and between the two of us, his face groggy. “Who are you? Hey, get out of here. You—”

  He moved to sit up from his slumped position, but I put my foot up to his shin again and pushed. He blinked, dazed.

  “Lean back, old man,” Alex warned. “Are you alone?”

  Gradually, he was starting to wake up, to recognize that we were intruders. Armed intruders.

  “What does it look like?” he said, looking around. “Do you see anybody else? Now, if you don’t mind—” He made to sit up again, and this time when I pushed him back down, his bottle of spirits spilled onto one of the cushions. “Damn!” he swore. “Look what you made me do!”

  “You stay where you are,” I said.

  Alex was walking around behind the couch now, and while the man was still trying to mop up the spirits with the blanket he was under, Alex hit him on the back of the head from behind, knocking him out.

  I let out my breath, and we exchanged a glance.

  “We should probably tie him up,” I said.

  Alex looked around the place, searching for something that resembled a rope. But no luck.

  “We’ll have to strip the bed,” he said. “You keep your gun on him, just in case he wakes up.”

  He walked across the cabin to the small double bed and ripped back the thick quilt on top of it, exposing a thin set of sheets.

  Meanwhile, I realized that my back was growing quite warm, and I noticed for the first time that I was standing in front of the dying fire, the coals still hot. My wetsuit was drying quickly now, and I couldn’t wait to strip out of my water shoes to warm my feet, too.

  Alex pulled out a folding knife from his belt and cut a slit in the top sheet, then tore it with his hands until it was one long strip. He walked over to the couch and pushed the man over onto the cushions, grabbing his two hands and holding them together behind his back. Soon, he was done tying them together with the sheet.

  “We should probably—”

  “Get his feet, yeah,” he said, walking back over to the bed and tore another strip from the sheet. When he was done, and there was no sign of the man waking, I lowered my gun.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, looking alarmed.

  “What do you mean? He’s totally out.”

  He pulled his pistol back out again.

  “That’s not a reason to let down our guard,” he said, alarmed. “I think we should take turns watching him. I’ll go first. You, get another log on that fire will you?”

  I smirked. So much for me being in charge. But I did what he said. It wasn’t any different than what I would have told him to do. After a few minutes of blowing on the coals, the dry piece of wood alighted, and I sat back and peeled off my wet shoes. My feet were a stark shade of white, and I held them as close to the fire as I could, the skin prickling painfully as blood flow began to be restored. I rubbed them, trying to speed up the process. The skin was freezing.

  “What about you?” I asked.

  He came over and sat down next to me, his back to the fire.

  “Oh, that’s good,” he said.

  “You should take off your shoes,” I said.

  He held up the gun. “Busy.”

  I turned away from the fire and began to pull on his left shoe.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, pulling his foot away. “What if we need to haul it out of here?”

  I looked at my own feet. I had been so desperate to warm them that I hadn’t even thought about the possible consequences. But we were about as safe as we could be. Something told me there wouldn’t be anyone out this way until at least morning.

  “It’s the middle of the night, and there’s no one else around for miles. I think you can afford to take your shoes off for a little while. At least let them dry.”

  I made to grab for his left foot again, then paused.

  “Will it make you feel better if I turn out the light?”

  He shrugged. “It’s dangerous either way.”

  “Less dangerous in the dark, if you ask me.”

  I stood up from the fire and walked over to the standing lamp in the corner, flipping it off. Now, all the light we had was that of the fire. I was a little surprised; it really did feel safer.

  Don’t get too comfortable.

  Alex was right. We still needed to be careful, though I found it hard to believe that we were in any real danger from the round man slumped over on the couch. But I made my way over to the kitchenette anyway and picked up the hunting rifle, then slid it underneath the bed, out of sight. It would make things marginally harder for him if he decided to grab for it once he finally woke up.

  I tiptoed back over to Alex and knelt down to the floor. This time when I grabbed his huge foot, I pulled off the shoe with success.

  “Ahh,” he said, wiggling his toes. “You were right.”

  I smiled, grabbing his other foot.

  “Told you. You’re the one who said you were cold. Give me a little credit.”

  I sat back down next to him, my back to the man as I stared into the flames. Alex looked the other way, his gun still at the ready. Just in case.

  “You should sleep,” he said.

  “Maybe in a little bit. I need to get warm first.”

  “Grab one of those pillows. And the blanket. He doesn’t need them.”

  I might have been irritated if it weren’t for the look on his face. Concerned. Kind. I did as he said, and soon I was cocooned in the blanket, which smelled of alcohol. Of home, really.

  But I didn’t mind. My feet were warm now, and no longer prickling.

  We sat in silence as we both warmed up, and I soon found I was growing mesmerized by the fire. My eyes were starting to flutter closed, but I fought it, not wanting to lose this time we had together. There was so much that I wanted to say to him. So much that would be overheard if we were to wait until getting back to the base.

  But my body was winning out, and I couldn’t keep myself from nodding off.

  “Here, lay down,” he said, pulling the pillow over and propping it up against his leg. He never took his gun off the man, though. Abundantly cautious.

  I flopped over, smashing my face into the pillow. It had been so long since I’d felt relaxed. Really relaxed. There was a big difference between sleeping in the barracks and curling up next to a fire with a sworn ally keeping watch.

  I wondered if this was what life could be like, what life would be like, if I were to succeed.

  If we were to succeed.

  It seemed almost too good to be true. All of the fear I’d held with me for so long about Alex had evaporated. He wouldn’t lie. I felt sure about that. I had to feel sure. I had to believe. Because without him, I would be lost.

  And if, in the end, he was lying, it wouldn’t even matter. All I wanted was to lie here next to him right now, warm in front of this fire, as content as I could ever hope to be.

  Chapter Four

  A sharp pain radiated through my skull.

  I woke up, confused and dazed, and sat up from my place on the floor. In front of me, the fire had fizzled down to ash. I turned around.

  It was the man. The bald man. He was up now, and he had Alex’s gun trained on us both. I looked up and saw that Alex had fallen asleep beside me.

  And he had been right. I had been stupid to underestimate this guy.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  “What?” I asked, holding on
to the back of my head where he had hit me, trying to wrap my mind around what was happening. “How did you …?”

  “Just answer the question!” he shouted.

  Beside me, Alex stirred, his arm still draped over my shoulders. His eyes fluttered open, and immediately, automatically, he scrambled for his gun.

  “You’re not going to find it,” the man said, sneering.

  Outside, the sky was gray. Clouds had rolled in overnight, and a chill filled the cabin now that the fire was out.

  Alex stared frantically between me and the man. He had messed up. Failed. He had been human. More human than he had been used to being for a long time. He moved to get to his feet.

  “NO!” the man yelled. But his hands were shaking, his grip on the gun uncertain.

  Alex stood up to his full height, calling his bluff. I did the same, not letting the blanket fall away. I still had my own gun hidden behind my back in my belt.

  “It doesn’t need to be this way, old man,” Alex said, holding out his hands. “Just give it over. We can talk this out.”

  “No way,” he said, taking a tentative step backward.

  I took the opportunity and grabbed for my gun, pulling it out and training it on the man, who now looked more alarmed than ever. Immediately, he held up his hands.

  “Drop it,” I said, ready to fire.

  “I—I—”

  “Do it!” I shouted.

  He let the gun drop to the couch. Alex sprang forward and grabbed it.

  “How did you get yourself untied?” Alex asked.

  “Does it matter?” I asked.

  It was over now. A close call, but over.

  “Listen,” the man said. “I was just trying to have a little break, a little time to myself out here, away from the family. You know.” His hands were still raised high.

  “What’s your name?” Alex asked, clicking off the safety on his gun. The mans eyes widened and he took another step back until he was up against the wall.

  “Pierce,” he said, his voice shaking slightly. “I don’t want any trouble. Just take what you want and leave.”

  I shook my head.

  “All we needed was somewhere to crash last night.” I turned to Alex and shrugged.

  What do we do now?

  “Wait a minute,” Pierce said. “You’re from the Service, aren’t you?” My eyes snapped back to him. “Yeah, that’s it, isn’t it?” he went on. “I can see it around your eyes. Your … what do you call them? Your lenses.”

  “Yeah, smart man,” Alex said. “You got it. And if I were you, I’d shut your mouth and turn to face the wall.”

  “Wait! No. Don’t shoot me, please! I didn’t do anything. I didn’t call anyone or anything. It’s just me out here. Nobody even knows where I am. I swear!”

  “I’m not going to kill you as long as you do what I say. Now turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

  Finally, Pierce did as he was told. Alex crossed to the couch and picked up the remains of the sheet that had been serving as rope.

  “How did you get this off?” Alex asked, holstering his weapon and glancing in my direction. I nodded, indicating that I wouldn’t drop my gun.

  “I had a knife,” Pierce said, and I could tell that tears were running down his face now. His words sounded stuffy. “I left it on the couch.”

  Alex looked down, pulling one of the strips upward until a hunter’s knife tumbled out of them.

  We hadn’t even thought to look at him more closely, to assess our risk. And we had almost lost it all.

  It wouldn’t happen again.

  Alex moved behind him, sticking his gun into his belt, and grabbed his arms one by one, then tied his wrists together so tight the man’s hands turned white.

  “You don’t need to tourniquet him,” I said.

  Alex turned. “Well, clearly I didn’t do it tight enough the first time.”

  He was right, but still I felt pity for the man. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now, his life was in danger. Surely, this wasn’t what he’d bargained for.

  “Listen, we’re not here to hurt you,” I said as Alex wrapped the sheet around and around his wrists. “We just needed a place to stay. And now we’ve gotten what we needed. We’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

  Alex glared at me.

  “What?” I said. His eyes told me he would’ve preferred I keep my mouth shut. But I had known Canadians, had spent time with them. They weren’t bad people, even if they were the “enemy.” And this guy, he wasn’t a real threat.

  Well, now that he’d dropped Alex’s gun, at least.

  Still, I doubted that he would have fired it, or even known how. Guns were pretty simple to use if you were familiar with them. But if all of your experience was only with hunting rifles, it might take a few moments, crucial moments, to figure out how to fire a pistol.

  “What are you going to do with me?” Pierce asked, his voice pleading. Alex flipped him around, his hands now tied tight, and walked him over to one of the stools.

  “Sit,” he commanded.

  Pierce sat.

  “We’re not going to do anything with you,” I said. “We—”

  Alex cut in. “We’re not going to tell you anything, either,” he said. He made a slashing motion behind Pierce’s back, my cue to shut up. “Now, who knows you’re out here?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know.” He shook his head, forlorn. Then, he seemed to have an idea. “My son. He knows. Yeah, he’s going to come out here to meet me today.” He looked up at us, his eyes hopeful and full of lies. “He could be here anytime.” He looked out the window as if expecting his son to peek through it. If such a person even existed.

  “You just said no one was joining you,” Alex said.

  Pierce’s face fell. I could tell that he was searching his mind, trying to figure out what to say next. But either from lack of smarts or what was probably a wicked hangover, he came up with nothing else to say.

  “So, then,” Alex said. “No one.” He moved around Pierce with the remaining strip of sheet and proceeded to tie his feet together and to the stool.

  “I don’t understand you people,” Pierce said. “What is it you want so badly from us, anyway? I’m just a regular guy trying to get a little time off. Why me?”

  “It’s not about you,” I said. Alex glared, but I went on. “You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And we’re in the Service because we have to be, not because we hate Canadians. We have orders.”

  “Yeah, right. Orders to take all of our resources.”

  “It’s not our choice,” I said. “Besides, we won’t be in the Service forever. We have a—”

  “Hey!” Alex said. “Shut it!”

  I noticed that he didn’t use my name. Nothing identifiable. Giving away that sort of information could do nothing but hurt us.

  But Pierce’s interest was peaked.

  “What? You have a what?”

  I looked back and forth between the two, torn. I wanted to give this man some sort of clue, some sort of hope that things were going to change, for all of us, in the future.

  “All I can tell you is that it’s not always going to be this way.”

  And I didn’t say another word.

  Alex finished tying him to the chair. Then, he did a sweep of the cabin, searching for any means of communication Pierce might’ve brought with him. There was a backpack leaning up against the small bed, and he started to rummage through it. A moment later he pulled out a tablet. Then, he turned the entire bag upside down, shaking out the remainder of its contents. There wasn’t anything else. Not even a phone.

  Nobody in the States used such antiquated technology, but Canadians weren’t tied to any sort of lens system. They could only communicate the old fashioned way. Phone, tablet, text. It seemed ridiculous to the majority of U.S. citizens, as we were nearly all connected into the lens system. Still, the Canadians had more freedom than most of us had ever dreamed of.
In fact, most of us didn’t even recognize the problems, the dangers, of being tied into the lens system. It was simply the way things were. Technology run rampant in the name of convenience. No one even noticed.

  I noticed.

  “Alright,” Alex said, sliding Pierce’s knife into his belt and picking up his rifle.

  “What do you mean, ‘alright?’” Pierce asked. “You can’t just leave me here. There’s no way for me to break free. No one will even know I’m gone.”

  “What about this family you spoke of?”

  “Well, they might notice, but they probably won’t care. It could be weeks before anyone comes looking for me.”

  “Sorry, buddy,” Alex said.

  “Give us a number,” I said. “When we get back to the States, we’ll call someone and tell them where you are.”

  “What are you talking about?” Alex said.

  “There’s no harm in it,” I argued. “We can’t just leave him out here with winter coming on. This cabin will only hold heat for a day or so. And we’re two days out.”

  “Not if we take his truck,” Alex observed.

  “Well, there you go,” I said. “It’ll only take us a couple of hours, then.”

  “They’ll find you,” Pierce spat, angry now. About being tied up for days or us taking his wreck of a truck, I didn’t know. “You’re better off going on foot.”

  “The longer it takes us to get back to the States, the longer you’re going to stay right here on your own.” I lifted my gun up again. “Is this going to be a problem?”

  He stared at me defiantly for a few moments, but then lowered his gaze.

  Nope.

  Alex took the tablet and headed for the door.

  “What do we tell them?” I asked. “What is this place called?”

  “It’s Crane Beach,” he said.

  Alex had opened the door and was already headed for the truck.

  “Don’t worry,” I said, my voice low as I holstered my weapon. “You’ll be out of here soon. And thanks for not killing us.”

  He might’ve said the same, but his face remained angry and his mouth shut.

  I followed Alex through the door, and just as I closed it, I heard Pierce’s last words to me.

  “I hope you get caught! I hope you rot!”

 

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