Shadow Warriors

by Chris Bostic

Forgetting about the first aid kit in my backpack, I spun around to try to locate anything useful. At an old metal sink in the back corner, I noticed a dish towel and rushed to grab it. It would work as well as any little gauze pad in my kit.

  As I hurried back, I took a quick glance at the captives. Spotted Owl was already on the floor with Austin and Mouse trying to rouse them.

  “They’re beat to hell!” the big man shouted. “Carry ‘em!”

  “I’ve gotta go help them,” I told Katelyn as I handed her the towel. Over her shoulder, I asked John, “Can you walk?”

  “Got to, bud.” He ground his teeth together as he tried to get to a kneeling position. “It’s more in the fleshy part.”

  I nodded and hurried off to assist with the others.

  Austin was right behind me, next to Mouse. I slid in beside him. Mouse had cut the first captive loose with her knife and was starting on the second.

  I helped Austin roll the man over. It took a moment to recognize him as Box Turtle. If not for the bushy beard and short, but large, frame, I might not have known who it was. His bloodied face was almost unrecognizable.

  “He’s gonna be a load.” Austin leaned in. “Turtle? You hear me?”

  A groan was all we got in return. There was no time for further questions.

  “Help me get him up,” Austin said, but I’d already moved into position. It took Katelyn’s dad joining us to get the stocky man to his feet, but Turtle didn’t have the strength to walk.

  “I’ll get his legs,” Katelyn’s dad said. Austin and I each got behind an arm and somehow managed to keep Turtle from immediately hitting the floor.

  “We’re screwed,” Austin said.

  “Not yet,” I replied. Knowing the mountain of a man couldn’t walk, I’d already formulated a plan. “Take him to the Humvee. If the keys are in there, we’re driving.”

  “Huh?” Austin asked. “Where?”

  “The new bridge John found.”

  “Good call,” Mom said. “I’ll check for keys.” She rushed past us.

  I looked over my shoulder to see John standing. Katelyn had him supported on her shoulder. Spotted Owl and Katelyn’s mom were helping the other prisoner, a battered Wood Duck, to his feet. He seemed barely capable of walking, but that was better than nothing.

  Mom ran back inside as I struggled to get Turtle carried out the back door.

  “They’re gone.”

  “The keys?” I asked, immediately panicked.

  “No, it doesn’t need any,” she replied.

  “Seriously?”

  “There’s a switch to turn it on. Anyway, I meant the other guys are gone.”

  “Who?” Austin asked, but I figured it out immediately.

  “Traitors,” I muttered. “I knew it.”

  “There’s soldiers coming,” she said frantically. “I’ll cover you.”

  She rushed back outside with rifle in hand.

  The three of us staggered and stumbled, but got Turtle out the side door without dropping him. It didn’t look good for getting him much farther than that.

  Shots rang out from the side of the cabin, each blast hammering at my ear drums. Mom emptied a magazine, and slammed home another one.

  “Go get the door,” Austin said to Mouse. She ran to the closest Humvee and opened the back door. Then the one for the front passenger. “You get in,” he said.

  “Heck no. I’m covering you.” She ran off by my mom and opened fire.

  Austin and I spun around and got Turtle lined up headfirst. We laid his shoulders onto the back seat and stepped away so Katelyn’s dad could shove him the rest of the way in. Other than a deep moan, Turtle didn’t protest.

  I rushed over to the side of the cabin with the intent of checking on the two women. I ran into Spotted Owl coming outside, and yelled, “We’re taking the Humvees!”

  The big man said something that sounded like, “Good plan.” He guided his injured captive to the Humvee parked behind the first one.

  I wanted to go help my mom, but decided I’d better check on the other side of the building. No one was providing cover fire that direction, and passengers still needed to be loaded.

  I gripped my rifle with white knuckle intensity, and crouched next to the foundation. Leaning forward to peer around the corner, a shadow stood up right in front of me. The figure lurched forward like a zombie.

  My finger found the trigger guard but couldn’t squeeze off the shot as the body collapsed on top of me. I shoved the man to the side. Hopping to a crouch, I leveled the weapon at Noel.

  “Dude! What the heck?” I bellowed. A very woozy Noel tried to sit up, but tipped back over. “You hit?”

  “Yeah, by that weasel James.” He blinked with both eyes, but one lagged slightly behind the other.

  I made sure no soldiers were right up on us, and then helped him sit up. “Where’s he at?”

  “He was gonna…rat us out. I tried to stop him.” He paused his speech awkwardly, and rocked again. He mumbled to the point I could only hear him say, “…beat me in the head…with a rock.”

  Bullets smacked against the side of the log cabin. Soldiers were definitely converging on the building, but I had no idea exactly how close. Rather than take the time to find out, I pulled a hobbling Noel toward the Humvees, and pushed him off to Spotted Owl.

  I explained the situation in staccato bursts.

  “James turned on us. He knocked out Noel. We’ve gotta go.”

  Spotted Owl nodded, and helped Noel into the back seat. Then he ran around to drive, leaving both of Katelyn’s parents to cram into the front passenger seat.

  I saw Katelyn getting into the back of the first Humvee, and ran for her. John was already inside, sitting next to Turtle. The dishtowel was tied around his upper leg. He winced as he scooted into the cargo area in the back to make room for me.

  Austin revved the engine. “Get in!” he hollered to our mom and Mouse, who were both on the way. The second they piled into the front seat, he jammed his foot on the accelerator.

  The door swung closed. I fell back against Katelyn, knocking her onto Turtle. He groaned a little louder and mumbled something, but I couldn’t hear it over the whining of the engine. Soon after, that racket was joined by the pinging of bullets off the metal sides of the Humvee.

  “Go to that bridge John was talkin’ about,” I said.

  “I am.” Austin whipped the wheel to the side to avoid taking out a length of the fence.

  I wished John was up front to help navigate, but he’d been forced into the back to make more room. All he could do to help was say, “The turn off is past the last barn.”

  “I’ll find it.” Austin took a hand from the wheel, and the Humvee jerked toward the trees.

  “Dude!”

  “Sorry, bro.” He squirmed in his seat, reaching for something, but had to put both hands back on when bullets pelted the side again. I grabbed for Katelyn to cover her, imagining the windows shattering. Thankfully, they held tight.

  “I wish this thing had a machine gun mounted on it,” Austin complained, and stood on the accelerator again.

  “Spotty’s does,” I replied. “We picked the wrong one.”

  “I reckon that’s okay. I’ve got something for ya.” He kept rummaging in his pockets, and ended up handing four baseball-sized objects one at a time to Mouse, who passed a couple back to me.

  The grenades. I hadn’t seen them since the assault on the bridge, which seemed like days before.

  “Don’t know if it’ll blow the bridge, but we’ve gotta try.”

  “True that,” I agreed.

  The Humvee swerved hard to the left. “Found it!” Austin yelled.

  I caught sight of the gap in the woods right before the vehicle shot down a sharp slope. It slammed hard at the bottom with a metallic thunk. I swore we’d lost an axle.

  The indestructible Humvee kept churning. After another hard bump, it hit a steep incline that threw me against the back seat. The Humvee quickly leveled out
, and skidded to a halt.

  “Get out and blow the bridge,” Austin said.

  No one argued. The two doors popped open as Mouse and I stepped out into a hornet’s nest of fire. Bullets buzzed in my ear like deadly mosquitos. I thought I heard one ricochet off Mouse’s helmet as we waited for Spotted Owl to cross.

  Spotty’s vehicle raced down the slope like ours had, and slammed into the metal bridge. The structure groaned and partially sank, sending off a huge wave. But the big vehicle powered through and climbed up the other side.

  As soon as it hit the high ground, whoever was manning the machine gun opened up with a tremendous burst. Gunfire swept the open field that we’d left behind.

  I couldn’t hear, and nudged Mouse to throw the grenades. She bobbed her head excitedly and watched for me to pull the pin, practically twitching with energy.

  I went to cradle the two grenades in one hand when a stray bullet slammed into my body armor. The force shoved me backwards. Grenades dropped onto the ground as I sank to a knee. A blood-curdling scream came from inside the Humvee.

  Quickly, I ran a hand under my armor. It was dented but seemed intact. My skin was wet, but I hoped from sweat. There’d be time to worry about that later.

  I ignored the screaming to hunt around for the grenades, but it was hard to move. My chest ached. It felt like someone had punched the air out of my lungs and then sat on me for good measure.

  Finally locating the grenades, I cradled them in my arm again. I looked to Mouse, who had slid in next to me. She copied my movements.

  I fished a finger into each pin to pull them both at the same time. Something as simple as lighting fireworks and watching the fuse burn made my insanely nervous, so I didn’t wait a second to chuck the primed grenades onto the bridge below.

  I had no interest in watching the blast. With bullets still whipping past me and Spotted Owl’s Humvee returning fire, I ran for my own with Mouse on my heels. Bright flashes lit up the world behind us. The concussion threw me forward. I face planted in the dirt.

  My chest ached even worse. It felt like every rib had been flattened by a steamroller. I couldn’t move at first. It took a moment to crawl back to my feet, and I was none too quick heading for the vehicle.

  Mouse jumped into the front seat with my mom. Katelyn reached an arm out to pull me inside.

  “Holy crap, that was awesome!” Austin yelled as the Humvee roared away from the river. “Did it sink?”

  I didn’t have a clue.

  CHAPTER 36

  “Yeah, it’s toast,” Mouse answered.

  “Then let’s outrun those bullets,” John said as he stared out the back window.

  “I wish.” I ran a hand over my chest.

  Katelyn threw questions at me, but I had no air with which to speak—and no energy.

  Austin followed something that looked like a road, though it was incredibly rough. Each bump sent a shot of pain through my chest. The heavy armor pressing on me wasn’t helping either.

  Though it had probably saved my life, I was ready to be done with it. I wriggled within the hard gray interior of the Humvee, trying to shed the bulky vest.

  “Need help?” Katelyn asked.

  “Yeah. I want this off.”

  “We’re not safe yet.” Katelyn’s words were punctuated by a dip in the road.

  Turtle went airborne for a second and crashed back onto the hard seat. I clearly heard him curse aloud that time. It was a relief, but still not a great sign that he would be able to move when the road ran out.

  “Sorry, fellas,” Austin said. “I can’t see the holes, and no way I’m turning on the headlights.”

  “That’s fine,” I said with a grimace. “You can drive faster if you want.”

  “I’m not sure it’ll go much faster…or if this beast will fall apart.”

  “It’ll be fine,” John said. “I don’t see anyone but our guys behind us, but you might as well push it.”

  “Yeah, we’ve gotta make tracks,” I agreed. “We’ve gotta cross the creek, with, uhm….” I looked down at Turtle but let the words remain unspoken.

  The man groaned again, and made an effort like he wanted to sit up.

  “Take it easy,” John said. “Rest while you have the chance.”

  “The hell I can.” Turtle inhaled sharply and moaned again. “Not in this tin can.”

  I went back to trying to take off my body armor. Katelyn gave me a hand, and I pulled one arm out. My chest felt caved in like I’d been beaned with a fastball. My breathing came in quick little sips to keep from puffing up my lungs more than a fraction.

  “Turn for me,” Katelyn said, but it hurt too badly for me to do much.

  I spun partway and locked up, the pain radiating from the front through to my back like a hole had been punched in me. Reflexively, my hand went back inside my jacket to check. The slightest pressure made me wince, and I immediately pulled my hand away.

  With concern heavy on her face, Katelyn helped me finally shed the vest. She dropped the armor to the floorboard with a thunk.

  “I don’t see blood on your shirt, but are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Say what?” my mom said, whipping around. “What happened?”

  “I got shot.” The Humvee bounced again, the worst one yet. I slammed the top of my head against the window frame. “Dang. That didn’t help.”

  “What do you mean shot?” She stared at Katelyn since I was right behind her seat. “You said no blood?”

  “The armor stopped it,” I paused to take a breath, “but it feels like I got hit by a freight train.”

  “Lemme see the armor,” Mouse chirped. She was closer to the middle, and leaned back between the front seats to grab for it. “Ooh, wicked!”

  “What?” I said softly. I had felt an indention when I’d checked earlier.

  “It’s frickin’ huge, dude.” Mouse held it up for me. “Like someone pounded out a hole with a hammer.”

  “Hole?” I said, and looked back down at my jacket again.

  “Not all the way through,” she said. “Still…dang, that had to hurt.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  “We’re all beat to hell,” John said. “But we’re gonna make it.”

  “Says you,” Austin replied. “I’m trying, but I’m surprised the choppers haven’t shown up yet. We’re runnin’ outta time.”

  “There’s something up there.” My mom pointed through the dark windshield. “I see shadows.”

  “Shadows? Shoot, they’re everywhere,” I said, but quickly squelched down on the negativity.

  “It looks like buildings.”

  Mouse dropped the armor to whirl back around. She leaned over next to Austin and put her hand on top of his.

  “That’s the Job Corps complex,” she said. “Stay to the right.”

  “Whatever you say.” Austin jerked the wheel, throwing me up against Katelyn. She knocked into Turtle, who had finally managed to sit all the way up. He seemed pretty defenseless, but thankfully didn’t collapse.

  As we drew closer to the darkened buildings, I examined the man’s face as well as I could in the dark vehicle.

  One eye looked almost completely closed from puffiness. The other was badly swollen, and a dark crust of what had to be dried blood covered what little I could see of his cheeks above his thick, matted beard. His lower lip was split open, and his breathing ragged. Worse yet, he would have to get out and hike in a matter of seconds.

  I looked past Turtle out the side window as we rolled by the shuttered compound. Low buildings of one and two stories crouched among the shadows of the trees. Each looked about as dilapidated as the road, but clearly had the classic, blocky 1960’s institutional look.

  It seemed obvious that it could make for a military base. I wished we had a dozen more buckets of ANFO to keep the Feds from claiming it. Then again, they would have to build another new bridge to get there.

  “We did great today,” my mom told us as we flew past the buildings.
“The bridges are all wrecked again, and we struck a real strong blow against those guys. They’ll think twice about coming up into our hills.”

  “And we’ll definitely be ready to come out of these hills after them,” John pronounced. “Tonight was huge, especially when the other tribes hear about this.”

  “That’s the key,” my mom agreed. “We’ve got major momentum now, and another big victory.”

  “We still have to get away,” Austin cautioned as he slowed the vehicle, “or nobody’s gonna find out.”

  “We have one helluva head start,” John replied. “That was like a four mile sprint at max speed. We’re way ahead of anyone, if they dare come after us.”

  “And the choppers?” Austin asked.

  “Just ram this thing right into the woods. No need to let ‘em see where we parked,” my mom said, seemingly dodging the subject. “Drive as deep as you can get until you can’t get any farther.”

  “Then hold on.” Austin drove straight into the woods, but much more slowly than on the dark, potholed roadway. He weaved around dozens of bigger trees, flattening smaller ones, and pushed on ahead over relatively flat, yet bumpy terrain. And then he jammed on the brakes. “Crap!”

  “What?” I asked, holding onto the seat in front of me.

  “It’s the end of the road.” He laughed like a lunatic. “We almost found out if this thing can swim.”

  “Sweet, the river,” Mom said, flinging open the door.

  “Yep. That could’ve been ugly.” Austin killed the engine and hopped out. He opened the passenger door behind him and was quick to help get Turtle to his feet.

  “Thanks,” the stocky man said as he braced himself against the Humvee.

  The other Humvee parked behind Austin, and the whole group filed out to the top of the riverbank. Other than Turtle, Noel was the most unsteady of the rebels, but he seemed a little more coherent since I’d found him nursing the headwound. Wood Duck, the other former prisoner, was moving much better than Turtle, though his battered face and pained expressions told a slightly different tale.

  “Nice parking job,” Spotted Owl told Austin. “I could barely keep up.”

  “He’s a maniac alright,” I said, remembering why I had refused to ride to school with my older brother. But after that wild ride and the earlier escape from Gatlinburg, Austin’s driving skills had grown quite a bit in my estimation.