Looking Back Through Ash

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Looking Back Through Ash Page 11

by Wade Ebeling


  ‘Nine bullets?’ his mind asked meekly, just to see if telling him how many bullets the pistol held helped out in any way. It was scrambling, struggling to relay into his consciousness any pertinent information that it could grab hold of.

  Abandoning the inner turmoil Daniel crossed the dining room, moving parallel to the gapping maw that was now his glass door. He took awkward steps down the hardwood hallway to avoid the pitfalls of the bare, creaky spots, heading straight for the pink refuge of Rebecca’s room. The window there had a partial view of the backyard that he hoped could be used to his advantage.

  Daniel had to stick his fingers through the small opening in the plywood to bend down a couple of blind slats to see out. It offered only a narrow, blurry view; it was enough. The living room jutted out from the rest of the house to his left, and the door wall was just around the far corner. The view, however did not hide the two shadowed figures that were crouched down facing away from him. The shadows were trying to peer around the corner, obviously waiting for someone to exit out of the newly smashed door. The bats or pipes that they held in front of them foretold of what awaited Daniel if he chose to use that route.

  ……..

  George led the way out of the house, but only after the waiting had become unbearable. The trio backtracked through the two doors in the garage and out into the empty, weed-lined driveway. Jimmy kept pace a few steps behind George and Chase brought up a cautious rear further back. They all swiveled their heads, searching for any signs that might mean they had been given away.

  After a few anxious moments, George led them slowly down the driveway and along the sidewalk. They took this longer route to avoid leaving an obvious path across the tall grass that had survived withering because of the shade the house offered. It took them several more tense minutes out in the open to high-step over the weeds that crisscrossed the besieged concrete path.

  Despite the growing anxiety, they still took ample time side-stepping between the two vehicles in the crazy man’s driveway. Most of the cars that were still running had sensitive alarms installed on them, and a blaring siren would surely warrant a swift beating from George. The chain-link gate to the backyard only gave a slightly audible protest as George opened it.

  The three teenagers followed an up-heaved concrete pathway that cut between the ankle grabbing grass and tacky white stones, which lined the side of the house. Despite the waning moon, only two days past full the darkness and quiet of the night seemed to amplify the further along they walked. Chase tripped when he stepped on one the white quartz stones nearly twisting his ankle. After a long ‘What the fuck?’ look from George, complete with cocked head and raised hands the would-be assassins turned to the right and started to survey their chosen ambush site.

  Jimmy took his cue from the earnest pointing by George. He was to place himself around the corner from the glass door. Chase followed right behind, not waiting to see if there were to be any further instructions directed at him. George aimed the little revolver at the shadowy reflection he saw in the glass and started walking backwards. He wanted to be close enough to the house to be able to get a shot off in the event that the guy charged out at them, but far enough away as to not be caught off guard by anything unexpected that the crazy man might do when he came out.

  Jimmy watched as George stumbled on something hidden in the grass, falling heavily backwards onto his rear end. Fear of retribution and the gravity of the moment kept Jimmy’s laugh stifled. In the eerie, soft light cast by the ample moon, Jimmy could see George pick up a square rock while a maniacal smile stretched his face. The smile put Jimmy even further on edge.

  George looked back and forth between the tree at his side and the rock in his hand. He stood back up and walked towards the house with an ominous nod directed at Jimmy, the square rock still in hand. He coiled his big frame, grunting with the effort as he released the rock underhand. The violent, sharp sound that the glass made as it shattered into thousands of shards pierced through the still night like a lance. Within the confines of the enclosed yard, the surprising crash made the Sutter brothers flinch in unison.

  George scampered back to the tree and hide behind its girth. He flattened himself against the live oak, squinting around the side of the gnarled trunk.

  Jimmy struggled to breathe with something that resembled normalcy. The brothers waited, clutching the inadequate feeling bats in front of them like warding talismans.

  Chase leaned in close, getting right next to Jimmy’s ear and whispered, “We should just run.”

  ……..

  Back inside the creaky hallway Daniel squatted down and stole a quick glance around the corner. He yanked his head back behind cover after seeing nothing but the table and chair legs in the dining room.

  “Damn,” he whispered.

  Standing back upright, he shot his head out once again, leaving it there this time. Nothing moved, short of the mocking drapes still silently stirring in the breeze. As quietly as he could manage, Daniel made his way to the front door. From inside the small entryway, Daniel was just out of sight of anyone who might be looking in from behind the swaying, aqua conspirator. Forcing himself to not look back was far harder than quietly removing the brace and turning the locks. Daniel was almost unnerved as the screen door yawned out his exit, possibly raising the alarm for the people in the backyard.

  The door seemed so loud. It had never occurred to him how loud the squeaky spring on it actually was. Daniel swore that if he made it through this night he would oil the door once a week from now on.

  The warm, humid summer air, along with his racing heart had Daniel’s skin dampened by the time he made it around the front of the garage and saw that the side gate had been swung open. Something loosely resembling a plan formed within him. He would turn the corner to face his aggressors, leaving plenty of distance between them. He would then yell an atrocious tirade at them, hopefully getting the shadows to stand out in the open. Last, he would effectively blind them by shining the flashlight into their eyes. He did not know what to do with them once he had them at gun point, but knew that this part of the plan would sort itself out.

  Eyes adjusted and night vision in place, the world now appeared well-lit and vivid. Still, anything beyond fifty feet or so looked muted and the shadows still kept their secrets. Daniel started down the narrow pathway towards the backyard. His bare foot stepped forcibly down onto one of the white stones that had escaped the confines of its pen.

  Daniel barely contained shouting ‘Motherfucker!’, but his mind yelled it internally, over and over for him. It took everything Daniel had to not make any sound as he ungainly limped off the worst of the pain.

  A hobbling, almost naked Daniel stormed around the corner, stopping just short of the door wall. “Listen you motherfuckers! If you don’t stand up and come out here…right…now!...I’m just going to start shooting at your asses!” he yelled, finally vocalizing the curse word that his mind was getting sick of containing for him. He got the exact reply that he was hoping for.

  “Okay! Okay! Don’t shoot us!” a squeaky, adolescent voice pleaded. The appeal was followed by the tell-tale sounds of two aluminum bats clanking on the concrete patio in quick succession.

  Just as Daniel saw the first shadow unsurely emerging from around the corner he heard a quick, “Pop! Past-Smack!”

  A small puff of white brick dust adhered to Daniel’s sweating back. Unsure of what had just happened, he completed his previous thought; he turned on the flashlight. The beam showed a skinny, very dirty teenager standing before him. The stained boy was looking out into the yard, not at him. Daniel spun the light to his left, searching for whatever it was that could scare the boy more than his vulgar shouting and pointing a gun in his direction.

  Daniel was shocked to see how close the bearded man was. He had stepped out from behind the big oak tree and was taking aim with a small pistol. The bearded man winced at the light now shining in his eyes just as the little gun he was holding spurted a li
ttle, orange wink of light back at Daniel. The flashlight had most likely saved his life.

  “Pop! Phsst-Thud!” The little projectile that the bearded man had fired sounded its birth and death into the wooden door frame, just inches to the right of Daniel’s shoulder.

  Anger took control over Daniel’s next actions. He fired twice at the bearded man without really aiming. Because the man was so close both rounds hit him in the center of the torso. The impact of the heavy 55 grain bullets unbalanced the man and he started to wobble, sneering in disbelief at the searing pain he suddenly felt. The bearded man dropped to his knees and then fell onto his side with a pained, “Oooff!”

  After watching the man go down, Daniel spun to face the teenager again. The whole event looked like it had happened really slowly to his eyes, but at the same time those same few moments felt extremely fast. He was very happy to see that the youth had not used the chance to close the distance between them. Instead of using the situation to his advantage, the boy had watched the bearded man go down too, turning his head slightly afterward to look at Daniel shock plastered all over his gaunt face.

  Anger maintained its absolute choke hold.

  Daniel shot the boy twice in his side, the bullets tearing through him sideways. One of the rounds angled off a rib, ripping a long chunk of muscle from the back as it exited. The other splintered the fourth and fifth ribs as it punched its way through, shredding the lungs into tattered ribbons and exploding the bottom chambers of his heart. Considering that the bullet had left behind a channel of torn tissue, the exit wound was fairly small, only about the size of an old world quarter. The boy crumpled awkwardly onto his legs, which then recoiled, springing him onto his back as his arms flailed about.

  “No!” a shocked voice yelled. “Why did you shoot him? Jimmy! Please! Jimmy!” A second boy screamed while rushing from cover to get to the side of the dying teenager. As the second, smaller boy came into view for the first time remorse started to rise within Daniel. The boy dove down beside the prone shadow named Jimmy.

  Despite the guilt mounting a charge, his anger did not want to give up its absolute control so easily. It squashed down the rising regret by clouding Daniel’s vision with a red veil. As soon as the second boy stopped moving, having struggled to cradle the now dead body of his brother in his arms, Daniel approached from behind. The smaller boy heaved giant sobs as he rocked the corpse back and forth.

  “Why?” the kid managed to ask between choking stutters. He stared pitifully up at Daniel, tears coursing clean swaths down his dirty cheeks.

  Daniel did not know what to say as he watched the juvenile entwine with the bloodied wreck of humanity.

  The anger knew precisely what to say.

  Daniel’s finger pulled the trigger repeatedly until the gun misfired. Calmly clearing the weapon, Daniel continued firing. The pistol finally clacked open, having blown the slide back into the locked position. The pistol was empty. Now covered in sweat, dust, and splattered gore, Daniel started to shiver as a result of the adrenaline dump.

  Still, the anger wanted more. It felt as if it would never be sated. It continued to burn stronger than ever.

  Daniel thought about the fact that he heard no approaching shouts. No neighbors were running over to see if his family was alright. No one was running up to console him. Nothing but the moaning of the dying bearded man could be heard, and it pissed him off.

  Ignoring the glass cutting into his bare feet, Daniel stomped back into the house through the busted door. He ripped the drapes and rod down for interfering again, and he threw the empty pistol down on the glittering carpet. He picked up the cinder block, which was made into an instrument of destruction by the intruders, and went back outside.

  He stood over the writhing, gurgling bearded man, staring coldheartedly at the consequences of his actions. The man had bright, arterial foam spurting and frothing at the corners of his gaping mouth. He looked like a fish trying to breathe out of water and was having about as much success. With all his strength Daniel raised the block up over his head. He proceeded to smash it into the man’s skull until it broke into pieces several blows later.

  Daniel stood upright, and stared at the nearly-full moon. He could feel the wet blood on his skin cooling. He asked the moon, “Why does all of this feel like it’s my fault? Why do I have to deal with this shit? Why didn’t I close up that damn door when I had the chance?” The moon held none of the answers he was looking for and his head dropped. “I knew, absolutely knew something like this was gonna happen.”

  His whole life suddenly felt so unfair.

  He stood fully erect again and howled spite-filled ruination at the world. He screamed unanswered questions into the emptiness which seemed to surround him, even penetrate him. The moon and everything it shown down on incurred his wrath. Everyone he had ever known received a misplaced and miserable cursing, without exception.

  Daniel had no idea of how long it took for the liberating shouts to finally soothe his temper. He just found himself kneeling in the grass with dried blood on his body and fresh blood flowing from his feet. Pain and shame were now his only companions. His anger had abandoned him at last.

  Chapter 7

  Corinne sat shivering in the dim basement. Rebecca was painfully clinging to her side in silent angst; she was also the cause of the shivering. They heard Daniel creeping around upstairs then silence. They heard the gunshots followed by what sounded like a child yelling angrily. More gunshots and the sound of something crashing to the floor inside preceded the next short silence.

  These things had frightened Corinne. What came next was far worse. She heard her husband screaming violations at the world, at her, their daughter, at anyone and everything that had ever crossed his path. The horrible things that Daniel shouted gave Corinne her first reason ever to be afraid of him.

  Corinne’s mother, Susan Davis, had warned against getting involved with Daniel. Susan had known Daniel’s father and had helped him to rebuild the town. Susan told Corinne all sorts of sordid tales from those early years. Allen Moore was what she would call a “necessary evil”. Allen gathered together the small band of raiders that supplied the encampment at the Church, which formed during the initial chaos that came after the terrorist attacks on the nuclear facilities.

  Allen gave this small group more than just the materials needed to survive, he provided security, the needed shelter from the growing turmoil. Allen’s extreme methods provided them the excesses that were essential to grow in numbers and scope. The super gangs that spontaneously formed were thinned out by shocking drone strikes from the air and the marauding military on the ground. Allen formed the posse that kept the smaller mobs at bay, keeping the immediate area reasonably safe. During the formation of the first fortified safe zone, no one questioned his brutal tactics.

  After the group had grown enough in size to commandeer the Warehouse, some felt Allen and his troupe of rogues were no longer needed, and the influences of this new exercise in civility shifted power away from him. They usurped Allen’s posse with the formation of the Police Force to take over matters of security.

  Communications were, eventually restored with the National Guard and the new Department of Continuance. Supplies started being flown into Selfridge Air National Guard Base, twenty miles to the northeast, then these infrastructure parts and large pallets of supplies were trucked away to the newly established town of New Warren and the work site around the Enrico Fermi nuclear plant further south.

  Given the vast areas and populace that no longer needed to be supplied, the Department of Continuance now had a seemingly endless supply of food to distribute to cooperating towns. Food and fuel ensured compliance from those areas where the D.o.C. wanted to regain control in to serve as staging areas. By using this template, ever so slowly, the D.o.C. began to increase its area of influence.

  Allen Moore tried to warn the people of New Warren that the Department of Continuance only brought dependence back with them, but only a few lis
tened. Not surprisingly, each member of the Council and the figurehead of a mayor unanimously felt that the worst had passed. Allen Moore, along with his far-fetched idea of self-reliance, was no longer needed or wanted. The tales of his past brutality and of how he had abandoned or murdered his wife became public fodder to discredit him.

  Susan had been one of the few people who knew of the plan to assassinate Allen. It was quietly carried out and his body was stripped and buried. Susan and the mayor at the time, Sam Fouts, elderly father of the current mayor, delivered Allen’s gun and blood-stained clothing back to Daniel at the Moore house. It was now a common practice to bring the recently deceased’s valuables back to their family. To have skipped over this custom with Allen would have been deemed suspicious by his followers.

  While Susan had harbored Corinne within the relative safety afforded by the group, Daniel had been left almost exclusively to his own devices. From the time Daniel was thirteen years old, right up to his meeting with Susan and Mayor Fouts after his father’s “death” at age fifteen, Daniel had almost always been alone and he had had nearly zero communication with the outside world, the only exception being his father’s occasional visits.

  Not completely unsurprisingly then, Daniel hardly seemed upset about Allen’s passing and barely questioned their well-crafted story of his demise. Survival had dictated that Daniel become very independent. While his clothes and the house were not very clean, the small pot filled with a stew made up of burdock root and squirrel meat buoyed Susan about his chances. Daniel denied any attempt to offer him safe harbor inside the Warehouse. He was, however smart enough to know that he would have to work for any new supplies and he jumped at their offer to find him work within the city’s Maintenance Department.

  Two days later, Daniel was apprenticing under the only stone mason the city had been able to scrounge up. It was also on this day that Corinne first saw the brooding, self-assured boy that she would soon grow to love. Daniel worked on almost every one of the city’s ambitious projects, thriving under his easy-go-lucky mentor and he learned to laugh his way through a hard day’s labor.

 

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