Into the Fire

by Mark Tufo

  “Is he kidding now?”

  “I hope. What’s with the Michael’s sire? I thought we moved past that?”

  Dee grinned before one arm shot out to hold Tony and Travis in place, and with his other, he braced it against the dashboard as Yodell slammed on his ineffectual brakes. They’d started skidding towards a barricade of cars that appeared through the thick snow. The impact was jarring but not much more than a fender bender as Yodell’s speed had been reduced to something along the lines of a turtle sprint.

  “What the hell?” Yodell asked as he opened his door and exited.

  “State your business,” a voice boomed.

  “Umm…”

  “At least he’s fast on his feet,” Tony said as he also exited.

  “Keep your hands where we can see them or we will be forced to shoot.”

  “What are you going to tell them?” Drababan asked. He placed Travis on the seat and told him not to move.

  “The truth,” Tony responded.

  “That may not be wise. Michael surely has a bounty on his head, and by default, anyone with or related to him would have one as well.”

  “Should I just tell them I’m out for toilet paper then?”

  “Major Drababan?” a voice asked.

  “Indeed I am.”

  “You just did exactly what you told me not to do.”

  “I said that you should not tell them the truth. I did not say you should lie.”

  “There’s really not that much difference between the two,” Tony told him.

  White camouflaged soldiers approached cautiously, weapons at the ready. “Hands up, please, for everyone’s safety,” one of the soldiers said.

  “Son, you’re the ones with the guns,” Yodell told him.

  “Clear.” A soldier had patted the man down. Three men kept their rifles pointed at Drababan as they patted down Tony.

  “Am I not to receive a massage as well?” Drababan asked.

  “We wanted to make sure these two weren’t holding you captive,” the soldier said. “It’s good to see you again, Major.”

  “It is Private Dewey Jackson, is it not?” Drababan asked.

  “Sergeant now, sir.” Dewey Jackson had been among one of the first recruited into Paul’s militia. He’d quickly become the butt of many jokes as shooting a firearm accurately had seemed wholly out of his skill set.

  “These two holding me captive? I would have to remove my Sinister Alien Patch if that were the case. How are things at the Hill?”

  “Well enough, sir. I can lead you there. It’s impassable now as far as cars go. Do you have any gear?”

  Drababan nodded, leading the sergeant back to the truck.

  “You have his son? So the rumors are true.”

  “Rumors?”

  “About Colonel Talbot. You don’t know?”

  “I was hoping to gain knowledge of his whereabouts here. In fact, I thought that perhaps he would beat me to this location.”

  “Colonel Talbot is dead, sir.”

  Tony nearly broke down.

  Drababan had just picked Travis up and placed him in his travel pouch. “Not much further I promise, wee one,” he said to the squirming boy. “Is this confirmed?”

  “No, but once the nuclear device was detonated in Los Angeles it was assumed.”

  Yodell asked. “Nuclear device?”

  “Come, we must get out of the cold before my travel companions begin to suffer the effects of hypothermia. I would not count Michael out just yet. For some reason I have yet to determine, the man has always found a way to thwart death no matter how many times the dark specter comes to visit. Until I lay a flower upon his grave, I will not believe him deceased.”

  “You believe in death as a physical entity?” Dewey asked incredulously.

  “I find it more shocking that you do not.” And with that, they were on the foot trail back to the Hill.

  Chapter 14

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN – MIKE JOURNAL ENTRY 8

  “I think I’m dead or deaf.” I had said the words aloud but I couldn’t hear them. I wondered if this was due to my condition of being dead or from the concussive explosions of the rounds that had whistled over my head. I thought about standing; that was about as far as I got…the thinking part I mean. The world began to fade; well…in fairness, it was actually my perception of the world that was fading. I knew the feeling well enough, I was passing out again. I fought to hold on, might as well have tried to stop snow from hitting the ground. “Huh, that was random.” And then I was out.

  I awoke with the feeling of rough hands lifting me.

  “Fucking Progs,” I mumbled. I was too exhausted and potentially hurt to give much more care to the fact that I’d just been captured, than I already had. “I’ll kill you all when I get the chance.” I had not opened my eyes. Even that simple gesture seemed beyond my capabilities, yet my incessant flapping mouth just kept going and going. “Make some fantastic boots from your hide. Maybe some luggage if I ever went on a vacation. Too tough to eat, though dogs don’t mind. Boil you up with some onions and garlic…almost passable as a food. Other than that, you guys are pretty much useless.”

  “Oh, for the love of God, will you shut up, Talbot?”

  “Drababan?” I struggled to find a name for the voice.

  “What did you just call me?”

  “Mike, are you hurt?” That one I knew.

  “Tracy?” My right eyelid fluttered. “So fucking thirsty.”

  “I’ve got an IV in you now.”

  “Need to drink something.”

  “Not yet. Soon.”

  “Holding out on me? Fine, I’m holding out on you as well.” I kept talking even though it felt like I was swallowing metal shavings and they were ripping into the soft flesh of my esophagus as I did so.

  “Did he really just threaten to cut you off from sex just now?”

  “He must be delirious,” Tracy said.

  Whatever we were in was bouncing around, that much I noticed as I drifted down deeper. The voices of those around me faded out as the voices of those further away wisped in.

  * * *

  “Hey, Mike.”

  Unlike my barely conscious self, I had a firm grip on my faculties on this plane. Although, looking back on it, how would I know? I was either towing the line between life and death or I was in a psychotic episode deep within the confines of my injured brain. Who’s to say what was real. Maybe none of it, maybe all of it.

  “Dennis?”

  “Good to see you.”

  “I’m not sure if I should agree or not. I mean obviously I’m happy to but that would mean I’m...”

  “Relax, old friend, you’re not dead. Just far enough down into your psyche that you are past the filters that protect you from traveling from realm to realm.”

  “Filters?” I moved to hug him.

  “Don’t!” He put his hands up. “Don’t come any closer. This is one plane that once you cross over into you cannot traverse back.”

  “Why? Why am I seeing you, or more likely, why am I manifesting you?”

  Dennis had a lopsided grin on his face, a sort of bittersweet smile. “I’m as real here as you are there,” he told me. “We don’t have much time, Mike, so I’m going to need for you to do something that doesn’t come so easy, okay?”

  “Sure thing, Dennis, you just say the word. I miss you, man, I miss you so much.”

  “I miss you too, Mike, but I need this to be a one-sided conversation. I need to tell you something.”

  “You’re right, being quiet was never my forte.”

  “I’ve seen Paul’s heart.”

  “Surprised you could see the black little shriveled thing. Fucking Paul, the backstabbing mother—”

  Dennis held his finger up.

  “Right…sorry.”

  “No matter his actions against you he still loves you.”

  “Dennis, he tried to kill my wife and then me. If that’s his version of love, then he can stick it up his�
��yeah, yeah, I know, be quiet.”

  “Beth is the one that you cannot trust.”

  “Shocker, that news is.”

  He looked at me sternly. “I’m telling you, Mike, there is going to come a time in this war where you are going to have to rely and trust on Paul completely. You need to put this distrust behind you or all will fail.”

  “This like a prophecy or something? How about not beating around the bush, Dennis, and just tell me what the fuck I need to know. Just like a figment of my imagination to leave me hanging. Fuck, man, what do you have to lose—you’re already dead!”

  I thought Dennis was going to start to cry.

  “I’m…I’m sorry, man, you’re just not really giving me all that much to go on, and Paul’s already tried to do me in once. Plus, I just can’t be a hundred percent sure you’re not some deep part of me that still hopes for a reconciliation and a connection back to the friend I once thought I knew.”

  “Mike?”

  “You don’t sound like Dennis.” My friend was gone. It was Tracy’s concerned voice I now heard.

  “You saw Dennis?”

  “Who’s Dennis?” BT asked.

  “Why are you guys talking about Dennis?” My eyes fluttered open. My throat was still parched, but I did not feel so completely weak as a newborn lamb. “What’s going on?” I sat up with BT’s help. Tracy had the truck nearly pinned at its maximum speed.

  “We’re getting the hell out of here. You did it, man.” BT looked genuinely happy.

  “Pretend I passed out or something and start from the beginning.”

  “What do you remember?”

  “Yelling, ‘Fire’.”

  “Wow, that’s it? That’s like leaving the theater five minutes before the movie ended.”

  “I was under a little duress at the time.”

  “Gotta tell you, man, I didn’t think you were going to make it. That drone was nearly on top of you when the ordinance finally made it there. Then I’m thinking, there’s no way anyone can survive the explosions. I mean, I didn’t say anything to your lady, but I didn’t expect to find much more of you than that mouth of yours, considering it’s the biggest part.”

  “BT!”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He spoke quieter to me as Tracy concentrated on potentially getting the truck into flight. “When we rolled you over and your eyes fluttered, I’ve got to admit I was more than a little impressed.”

  “The base? It’s destroyed?”

  “I don’t know exactly what they hit it with. But it was devastating, man, where that base was, there’s now a giant hole of melted earth. It looks more like alien technology than human.”

  “Stryvers?”

  “Maybe. Anyway, the dust had no sooner settled, than we were heading your way while the shit was still swinging around the fan, making the thing go all lopsided.”

  “And they say I talk too much.”

  “I thought you were the crazy son-of-a-bitch of the group, and then I met your wife. Holy shit, do you guys dare each other every night to see who can do the stupidest shit the next morning? Is that how it works? You say something like, ‘I’m going to take on a group of Ninjas with a pencil and straw’ and she’s like, ‘well, I’m going to strap myself to a rocket wearing only a bathrobe and sensible shoes’?”

  “You’ve just about nailed it, man.”

  “I’m telling you, she was forcing me into the truck WHILE the fucking shit was raining down. Any normal person under those circumstances would have been heading the other way. Not your wife, man. I’m going to have nightmares about this for years. Hell, the fear went so deep that I’ll probably be able to genetically pass it on to my next generation.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that.”

  “Yeah, odds are we won’t live that long anyway.”

  “Oh…I was going to say the odds of someone wanting to mate with you aren’t that high, but we’ll go with your answer.”

  “Glad to see you’re feeling better,” he smiled. “Because really, man, you’re definitely the saner of the two of you.”

  “I can hear you.” Tracy had turned.

  “Okay, okay! Watch the road!” BT begged.

  Tracy gave him the evil eye for a few more seconds before slowly turning back to the road.

  “See!” BT said, barely above a whisper, though he stressed the word as much as he could.

  “We have got to get out of here. Just because the base is gone doesn’t mean the Progs are. They’re going to light up everything in a hundred-mile radius. I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t just do their version of a nuke and be done with it,” Tracy said.

  “Nuke? Umm…maybe you should drive faster.” BT was looking out the back window.

  “Where we headed?” I asked.

  “We did what we promised…now we’re going to get our son.”

  “Works for me. Where are we headed?” I asked again.

  “To our son, back to the base.”

  I didn’t think he’d still be there, but I wasn’t a hundred percent sure of this. I had to think like Drababan, which wasn’t easy. Basically like a toddler trying to crawl into Einstein’s mind. There was no reason he would leave the base. I’d asked him to take care of my son. A formidable task for any one person but he’d developed a strong bond with the boy almost from day one. He would have been in the birthing room as well if the doctor and Tracy hadn’t forbid it. Shit, I’d just about begged Tracy to let him stand in for me like, by proxy. She hadn’t liked that idea, not one bit.

  There was a chance—no, it was definite—he would have got some weird stares around the base while he was in charge of Travis; yet it certainly wouldn’t have been the first time we’d left him with his Godfather. But I knew Dee; after he heard about L.A. he would be hell-bent on going out to help or at least finding out what happened. That would mean he’d have to drop Trav off with someone. But not just anyone…someone he trusted implicitly.

  “Umm, Tracy, I don’t want you to make any radical course adjustments just yet, but I think we’d be better off going to Maine.” I laid out my reasoning. She took a good fifty miles of real estate to mull it over, which, given the speeds she was driving, was not all that much time. Actually, faster than I had come to my conclusion.

  She eyed me in the rearview mirror. “What’s your confidence level on your theory?”

  “Could you maybe watch the road while you ask your questions?”

  “I need to see your eyes. This is important.”

  “Answer her, man, she’s scaring the hell out of me!” BT shouted, hesitating whether or not to grab the wheel.

  “I don’t know…”

  “Answer her!” BT pleaded.

  I couldn’t be sure of anything. I wasn’t clairvoyant; I didn’t have a blind eye I could turn inwards to see what lay ahead. The fact that we were all about to be dead as Tracy plowed into a tractor-trailer parked on the side of the highway was all the impetus I needed to blurt out an answer. “Forty percent!”

  “That’s not a majority number!” BT looked on the verge of some sort of cardiac event, and not of the good kind.

  “There are three options,” I told him.

  He calmed visibly. “And forty is the best of the three?”

  I nodded.

  “Oh, thank God. How can being with you two be worse than gang life? I just don’t know.” He began babbling incessantly to himself for a while, luckily it was soft enough that it didn’t interfere with Tracy and me.

  “Mike, is he alright?” I could tell she was not talking about BT; but rather Travis, because of her tone.

  “Of course he is.”

  “How can you be so sure?” She flitted her eyes up to meet mine.

  “Because the alternative is unthinkable.”

  “That’s your reasoning?”

  “Works for me.”

  Now that we had a specific destination in mind, Tracy pushed the truck even harder. I didn’t think the vehicle could handle much more of her punishm
ent. Turned out that wasn’t going to be a big concern for too long.

  Things had gotten quiet as we hummed down the highway. I saw a few cars from time to time, and if I was so inclined, I think I could have counted them all without having to take my shoes off and use my toes as markers.

  Most were headed in the other direction, but some we caught up to and flew past. Anyone with less than a rocket engine was not going to catch us. BT had stopped muttering for the most part. Every once in a while he would berate himself for staying with the “crazy whiteys”, but that was it. Until, of course, it wasn’t.

  “What the fuck was that?” BT asked, pointing to the rear view mirror.

  “What was what?” I didn’t see anything.

  “I saw a flash of light. Look, there’s smoke.”

  I could see a thin snake trail of what looked like a wispy black contrail, although no plane had done this as it was arising from the ground, and it was black not white, that was a telltale sign as well. Nervousness began to creep into the hollow of my stomach, shot out the back, into my lower spine, where it traveled up my vertebrae and wrapped around my entire skull before lodging deep into my brain.

  “What are the chances this thing can go any faster?” I asked Tracy.

  “Really, man? You’re giving little miss racecar driver the green light to go faster?”

  “I think the reason why will become self-evident soon enough. Can I take this IV out now?”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Less dead.”

  “Sure, then.”

  “BT, could you pull this out?” I asked.

  “Can’t you do it yourself?”

  “I hate needles, man.”

  “Yeah…well I don’t…”

  “How did I get stuck with two big babies? Stick your hand out, Mike,” Tracy said. She glanced at my hand, grabbed the end and swiftly pulled the long needle out.

  I won’t swear it on a stack of bibles, but I’m pretty sure I saw BT’s eyes roll up a little into his head. He was damn near close to passing out.

  “I think I just found Superman’s kryptonite.” I smiled.

  “Drone,” Tracy said. She had spotted it in her side view mirror, which was pretty friggin’ impressive considering that, when I looked out the back window, I had a difficult time locating it.