The Survivalist (Frontier Justice)

by Arthur T. Bradley

Tanner and Samantha stayed inside the Mustang until early morning, neither of them willing to risk going back out into the dark, not even for a much-needed bathroom break. The dogs had left after an hour of incessant barking, but Tanner suspected they were never far away.

  With the first rays of sunlight, both of them were eager to get out of the car and stretch their legs.

  “Think the dogs will come back?” she asked, slipping on her backpack and adjusting the straps.

  He looked around, yawning.

  “I doubt it, but it wouldn’t hurt to find a weapon just in case. Help me look inside these cars. Someone’s bound to have a gun.”

  They walked down the centerline of the highway peering into cars. After only a few minutes, Tanner saw a large shotgun sitting in the backseat of an old Buick. On the front seat were the remains of a middle-aged couple. The dead man’s arms were still wrapped around his wife’s corpse.

  “Here,” he said.

  Samantha came over and stood beside him. She peered into the window The bodies were in full decomposition, the soft tissue starting to fall away from the bones. Flies and maggots lined the entire front seat of the car.

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “Come on, it’s kind of touching.”

  “Touching? There are maggots in that lady’s ear!”

  Tanner laughed.

  “I’m serious,” she said. “I’m not standing anywhere near you if you open that door.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  She made it a point to count out ten large steps away from him.

  “If you get stuck in there,” she called back to him, “I’m leaving you here. Just so you know.”

  “Where’s my faithful kemosabe?”

  “Way over here,” she said, pointing to the ground.

  Tanner opened the Buick’s rear door and stepped back. Waves of buzzing blowflies swarmed out like bats emerging from their subterranean hideaway. When the black wave finally thinned, he held his breath and leaned inside the car. A Remington 870 Police Magnum shotgun, two boxes of triple-aught buckshot, and a case of bottled water lay on the back seat. He grabbed everything and carried it to the hood of a nearby car. Then he went back and closed the car door to prevent the smell from drawing the dogs.

  When it was all done, Samantha walked slowly back over to him.

  “It’s a good gun?”

  He picked up the shotgun and looked it over.

  “It’ll do.”

  “Will it kill really big dogs?”

  “With these shells, this thing will kill Superman.”

  She nodded. “Good.”

  He loaded the shotgun with four shells, shucked one into the chamber, and loaded a final fifth round.

  “Now, let’s go find us a car.”

  The I-285 loop around Atlanta proved to be utterly impassable to automobiles. Tens of thousands of cars jammed the freeway like Christmas shoppers pushing their way into a Black Friday giveaway. Tanner and Samantha were forced to leapfrog their way around the city, driving a vehicle until it became gridlocked and then switching to another. In the end, they spent more time on foot than in a car.

  “Why do you think people didn’t just stay in their homes?” she asked, stepping over a small pool of blood as if it was nothing more than a puddle of rain.

  “When people are scared, they run.”

  “If I had to die, I’d rather be at home in bed.”

  “Why?”

  “At least I’d be comfortable.”

  He nodded.

  “You wouldn’t?”

  “Wouldn’t what?”

  “Want to die at home?”

  “Nah, too easy. You only get to go out once. Best make it count.”

  “How then?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe in an arena with a whip and a shield in my hands.” He made a whipping motion with one hand.

  “Like a gladiator?”

  “At least I’d go down fighting.”

  “You like violence too much.”

  “That’s not true,” he said, his tone slightly defensive. “I have a tendency, not a taste, for violence. In fact, my religion teaches me to try to achieve a peaceful existence while helping others.”

  She snickered. “You may need to go to church more often.”

  He frowned at her, but it slowly melted into a smile.

  “So, what religion are you?” she asked.

  “I’m a Buddhist.”

  “You’re not going to ask me for money like those guys in the airport, are you?”

  “Wrong religion.”

  “Oh, sorry.”

  “Buddhism teaches people to come to terms with, and perhaps reduce, the level of suffering in this world.”

  She looked around. “This is a lot to come to terms with.”

  “It is.”

  “My mom says we’re Protestants. I think that means we argue too much, but I’m not really sure.”

  The soft pat-pat-pat of a helicopter sounded in the distance. Both Tanner and Samantha stopped walking and searched the sky.

  “You hear that?”

  He nodded, spying the helicopter coming their direction.

  “We should wave them down,” she said.

  “It’s probably a military chopper. They won’t land for us.”

  “They will.”

  He looked at her.

  “Why would they land?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “The same reason you were crawling out of a Blackhawk when I found you?”

  Still she didn’t say anything.

  The helicopter came closer and closer, finally circling and landing about fifty yards away. Two men hopped out, one wearing military fatigues and the other a simple black suit and tie. The pilot remained in the helicopter with the engine running. As the two men approached, Tanner took a step forward, partially blocking Samantha from their view.

  The man in the suit walked up and offered his hand.

  “Agent John Sparks, Secret Service.”

  Tanner shook his hand but didn’t offer his own name.

  The soldier eyed Tanner suspiciously but said nothing. He had an M4 carbine resting against his chest on a single-point sling. His finger was off the trigger, but at the ready.

  Agent Sparks leaned around and looked at Samantha.

  “Is that you, Sam?”

  She stepped around so that he could see her more clearly.

  “Do I know you?”

  “I’m John. It’s my job to protect you. Just like Oscar. You remember Oscar?”

  “Of course I remember Oscar.” She felt her head. “Does it look like I suffered brain damage?”

  He smiled a big toothy smile.

  “Of course not, dear. You look great. Who’s your friend here?”

  “This is Tanner. They let him out of prison. But don’t worry. He’s a Buddhist.”

  “Is he now?” he said, looking at Tanner.

  “He’s taking me to my mother.”

  “I see. Has … has he hurt you, Samantha? Touched you, maybe?”

  Tanner stepped forward and hit Agent Sparks squarely on the jaw. The man stumbled to his right, like a drunk with a few too many in him, and then toppled over.

  “I don’t believe I like you,” said Tanner.

  The soldier tightened his grip on his weapon and stepped back, looking to the agent for orders.

  Agent Sparks sat on the ground, wiggling a loose tooth. He tipped his head to the side and let a large mouthful of blood drip out.

  “If he moves, shoot him.”

  When the soldier turned back and started to raise his weapon, he found himself staring down the barrel of Tanner’s Police Magnum.

  “Think about it.”

  The soldier lowered his rifle and took his hand off the grip, letting the weapon hang freely in front of him.

  “You’ll pay for that,” growled Agent Sparks.

  “My mother used to tell me to think before I opened my mouth. Yours should have done the same.”r />
  The agent slowly got to his feet, nearly falling once in the process.

  “Samantha, we need to go,” he said, his teeth covered in blood.

  “I can’t—I won’t get into another helicopter,” she said, stepping back behind Tanner.

  “Dear, I understand that you’re afraid, but there’s no other way. It would take a full day to get a convoy here.”

  She shook her head.

  “Then I’ll just stay with Tanner. He’ll take me to my mom.”

  “Samantha, I’m sorry, dear, but that’s not an option. It’s my job to bring you to safety. You understand, right? You don’t want me to lose my job, do you?”

  “I don’t care if you lose your job.”

  He stood up straight and smoothed his clothing.

  “You give me no choice then, young lady. As an agent of the government, I’m giving you a lawful order to come with me. If you disobey that order, you’re subject to prosecution. Do you understand what that means, Samantha?”

  “It means you think I’m an idiot.”

  He sighed and turned back to Tanner.

  “I don’t suppose you’re going to be smart and just walk away.”

  “Do I look smart? Don’t answer that.”

  The agent leaned in and lowered his voice.

  “With one radio call, I can have a gunship raining down a living hell on you.”

  Tanner moved the point of aim of his shotgun to the agent’s belly button.

  “And with one squeeze of the trigger, I can turn you into Hamburger Helper.”

  Samantha touched his arm.

  “Remember, peace and tranquility.”

  He glanced at her and then back to the two men.

  “Both of you put your weapons on the ground. You can thank Sam later.”

  “This isn’t over,” Agent Sparks said, taking a semi-automatic pistol from his belt and setting it on the ground.

  The soldier didn’t say anything as he unbuckled his rifle and let it drop by his feet.

  “I’ll give you to the count of sixty to get that helicopter off the ground.”

  The soldier looked to Agent Sparks who gestured for him to go ahead. Sparks started to say something, but Tanner cut him off.

  “Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven …”

  He turned and followed the soldier back to the helicopter. As they lifted off, Agent Sparks leaned out the open door and gave Tanner the one-finger salute.

  Tanner and Samantha sat with their backs against the door of a shiny yellow Corvette. The proud owner sat inside, his skin sagging so badly that he could have been mistaken for one of the horrors in Madame Tussaud’s wax museum. Tanner was eating a Slim Jim, and Samantha a pack of red licorice.

  “So?”

  “So what?”

  “So, who are you exactly that the Secret Service is out looking for you?”

  “You know already.”

  “I know that the president has a daughter named Samantha.”

  “You just didn’t know she was so cute, right?” she said with a grin.

  “I didn’t know she was such a pain.”

  She paused, hunting for the right words, or perhaps just the right delivery.

  “So, are you’re still going to take me to Virginia?”

  “I suppose. But that convoy he mentioned will likely show up somewhere along the way. You won’t need me then.”

  She stood up and looked off in the direction the helicopter had flown.

  “Do you think Agent Sparks will tell my mom that I’m alive?”

  “I can’t imagine why not.”

  “Good. I’m sure she’s worried.” She sat back down and took a drink of water.

  “How’d they know where to find you?”

  She gently grabbed his hand and placed it against her forearm.

  “Feel,” she said.

  “It feels like a grain of rice is under your skin.”

  “They said it’s a short-range wireless tracker. That if I ever got lost, it would help them to find me.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  She shrugged.

  “Are you going to give me that sad childhood story? Too many vacations in the Hamptons?”

  “No, not that. My mom is great. My dad’s dead, but he was okay, too.” “I’m sorry. About your dad, I mean.”

  “Do you have any family?”

  “A son.”

  “What’s he like?”

  Tanner looked off in the distance, reliving better times.

  “He’s a good man. Better than me, that’s for sure.”

  “Is he a criminal, too?”

  Tanner laughed. “Quit calling me that.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No, he’s not a criminal. He’s a lawman. The kind you might have found standing beside Wyatt Earp and Doc Holiday.”

  “He sounds very brave. Maybe one day I can meet him.”

  “Maybe. If he’s still alive.”

  “Do you think he is? Alive I mean.”

  He shrugged. “Could be. We have a cabin. If he made it there, he could have waited this thing out.”

  “I hope he’s alive.”

  “Thank you.”

  She grabbed another piece of licorice and started chewing.

  “Sam,” he said, “I have a question for you.”

  “Sure.”

  “Why didn’t you go with that agent?”

  “I told you. I’m not getting back in another helicopter.”

  “That’s it?”

  She looked up at him and wrinkled her brow.

  “What other reason could I have for not going?”

  He shrugged, taking a big bite of the beef stick.

  “I just figured you liked me.”

  “In your dreams.”

  He grinned. “Okay, then what gives?”

  “It’s just that…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well … it’s just that our helicopter didn’t exactly crash. I mean, we crashed, but we didn’t just crash.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I think someone shot us down.”

  “Who would shoot down a helicopter with the president’s daughter inside?”

  “I heard Oscar and the pilot talking. They called it friendly fire. It didn’t seem too friendly to me, though.”

  “Friendly fire just means that it was our own military.”

  “Oh.”

  “It sounds like someone doesn’t want you to get home.”

  “Oh,” she said again. “But you’re going to take me to my mom, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “All the way? No matter what?”

  He looked over and saw that there were tears in the corners of her eyes.

  “No matter what,” he said.

  She blinked a few times and swallowed hard.

  “Okay then, what else do you have to eat? I’m still hungry.”

  Chapter 19