by A. American
“What’s up?” Thad asked as he shifted the shotgun in his hands.
“Roadblock,” I replied.
“What’s it look like?”
“There are a couple of guys I can see, but there may be more. I don’t like the look of it, though. I think we should find another way. Showing up in the dark blacked out like this isn’t going to win us any points with ’em for sure. The guys said not to make contact with anyone if we could.” I was watching the men at the roadblock. Every time one of them took a drag from his smoke, I could see their faces. They were looking down the road for the source of the engine. “Besides, any town with a PD is probably going to take the truck.”
“My ass. This is my ride home. Let’s see if we can find a route around it. Jess, you know anything about this area?” Thad asked.
“I’ve been through here before, but I don’t know the area at all,” she replied.
I tried to back the truck up, but that just wasn’t happening. Trying to look in the mirror through the goggles was a no-go. I did a three-point turn in the road and headed back out of town. There was a road on the left, heading south, and I took it. It was a residential street with houses on both sides. Fortunately, it was still kinda cool out, and no one was hanging around outside. As we passed by, I saw the occasional door open and a curious head poke out, but no one ever came out to investigate.
It took what seemed like hours, but we eventually came out on the east side of Trenton on 26 again. I knew that Newberry was up ahead and would probably have the same thing going. We came out far enough east that I didn’t see the roadblock on this side, but I was certain there was one. We drove on without talking; everyone was on edge. It was quite the change from how we all felt at Sarge’s house. Out on the road, we all felt vulnerable.
We passed a large timber operation on the left. I knew from personal experience that Newberry wasn’t far ahead. Slowing down, I started to look for a turnoff. I found a paved road heading south and took it. There weren’t any roads leading back to the east, so we kept heading south. The road took a sweeping turn to the west, but there was a spur that continued south. It was a lime rock road and looked well-traveled, so I took the spur. Shortly after getting on it, there was another road of the same type that headed east, so we turned off.
This stretch of road was mostly farmland, with hardly any houses. As we passed one of the few that were there, I heard a shot. Everyone instinctively ducked their heads. We didn’t know if it was aimed at us or not, but I stomped on the gas a little harder. After a mile or so, we came to another lime rock intersection and took the north side. This brought us back to 26 east of Newberry. We took off down a paved road again. We were getting close to the west side of Gainesville and really needed to get off the highway. Our goal was Wacahoota Road. It’s a small road that would keep us away from Gainesville proper and would tie into US 441. Our map, though, didn’t show all the roads in this area, which was full of little roads and dirt paths. I needed a break from the goggles, plus it was time to look at the map and see what we could find for a route.
It was going on ten o’clock. In four hours, we had gone only thirty miles. It was a hell of a lot faster than walking but still seemed to take forever. I was looking for a place to stop when we came across a mud pit. It was an honest to goodness mud boggin’ hole. There were a few tent-type carports scattered around, and a few trucks were sitting here and there. I turned off onto the road and came to a stop at the entrance. As I was checking the area for any signs of life, Thad asked, “What’cha got?”
“Looks like a muddin’ hole. Doesn’t look like there is anyone around. I need to take a break from these goggles and to look over the map,” I answered.
“I don’t like it out here. Place has got to be full of rednecks,” Jess said.
“Well, I don’t see any necks, red or otherwise, and we need to stop,” I replied to her.
“I need to pee.” Jess was squirming in her seat.
“Yeah, me too,” I answered absent-mindedly.
“And that makes three. Let’s stop here for a minute and take a break,” Thad said. He was looking out the window into the night.
After pulling in and parking the truck, we all climbed out. I took the XD from my bag and tucked it and its holster into my pants and slung the carbine over my shoulder. Thad extricated himself from the truck and tilted the barrel of his shotty over his shoulder, looking around. Jess came out and made for a clump of palmettos not far from the truck with a roll of TP in her hand. I went to the tailgate of the truck and dropped it. It fell almost straight down. Thad reached in and pulled out a loop of rope that was tied off to an eye on the top of the bed, lifted the gate, and hooked the loop around the pin of the gate. “We put this on today after Ted did the same thing you just did.” I just stood there shaking my head.
“At least this thing didn’t have a bumper back here, or it would have made one hell of a noise,” I said. Thad just grunted his agreement. “Keep your eyes open, man. Its blacker’n a well digger’s ass out here,” I said over my shoulder as I stepped off to take a leak.
Thad let out a combination chuckle and grunt. “That’s not what I thought you was gonna say. You had me there for a minute.”
I turned right to him; he wasn’t four feet from me, and I stuck my hand out, feeling around. “Who said that? Who’s there?” Thad let out a laugh again and stepped off himself.
After getting some relief, we were at the back of the truck. Jess’s head was on a swivel; she was way nervous. I laid out the map and started to look it over. “Thad, grab a poncho, would ya?”
“Sure, what for?” he asked as he was pulling one out of his pack.
“We’re going to use it as a cover so I can turn on a light and look at this map. I don’t want a light shining all over the place out here.” I unrolled the poncho and threw it over my head and leaned over the map.
“I’ll keep an eye out.” I heard Thad’s big feet crunching the dirt as he moved around.
Looking at the map, it looked like SW143 ST was the closest thing to us that would go far enough south to be worth taking. The problem was it petered out on the map. There just wasn’t anything else that would keep us west of Gainesville and out of residential areas. Hell, even this road would probably be residential. After taking a little break with sandwiches—Sarge was probably the only guy around with a couple dozen loaves of bread in the freezer—and some coffee, it was time to get back on the road. I told Jess and Thad what I had planned and kind of where we were headed. I admitted to them that I didn’t exactly know how we were going to get there, but we’d figure it out.
“Anywhere is better than here. This place gives me the creeps,” Jess complained.
“Well, saddle up then.” We all piled into the truck and got back on the road without a hint of Jess’s zombie rednecks. We hit 143 about two miles after leaving. We were getting dangerously close to Gville, in my opinion, but I hoped it was worth the risk. It turned out to be a decent road with only a couple of houses; but instead of running out like the map showed, it made a hard right. There was a gravel lane that kept on straight with a very prominent Private Road sign on it. I stopped the truck at the edge of the gravel, looking ahead for any sign that someone might be out there.
“What is it?” Thad asked.
“Sign says private road. But I think we should keep going; there is a lot of forest ahead, and if we can stay in it, we would be better off.” I continued to scan the area ahead as I spoke.
“Then go. I don’t want to sit here any longer than I have to.” Thad was looking out the window.
I started down the drive. We didn’t see hide nor hair of anyone. The lane led to what looked like a barn. I swung the truck toward the east, and there was a path into the trees. I eased the truck into it, and we were headed east again. The little path opened up into a trail through the woods. The old truck bumped along for a ways
until the trail opened up further onto a power line right-of-way. It was clear sailing to the east, no houses and no worries. Bumping along with the useless power lines overhead, I was thinking about people or what seemed like the lack of them. We hadn’t had direct contact with a single person since we left and very little sign of any. I checked my watch; it was almost midnight. We were supposed to check in with Sarge so I figured out here would be as good a place as any. At least we could see anyone who might sneak up on us before they got too close.
I stopped the truck, and Thad strung the antenna while I kept watch. He was going to make the first call. I just wanted to stand still for a minute in the quiet. We discussed where we roughly were, and then I walked away from the truck a little. I was thinking of how much closer to home I was when I heard Thad start talking into the radio. He kept it short, just as we were supposed to. I didn’t hear the reply, as he was wearing a headset. He signed off and started to take the antenna down. I went over and helped him, and then we all loaded into the truck again.
Things were going fine until we started to pass what looked like a school, or possibly a day care. We had the windows cracked when the sounds of shouting voices came through the thin row of trees separating us from the building. The beams of several flashlights cut through the darkness and really lit up my goggles. I was forced to take them off when the bright headlights from a Jeep came to life at about my two o’clock, followed by the screaming whine of a couple of quads. These weren’t like utility machines; these where high-wheeled racers, like the old Quadzilla.
All this was happening on Thad’s side of the truck. “Go, go! Get us the fuck outta here!” he yelled.
I floored the gas, and the truck lurched forward. The ATVs were coming on fast. Cutting through the trees. The Jeep was racing parallel to us on the drive to the building. I had no idea what these guys wanted, but they were certainly coming on awful strong. That question was answered when one of the ATVs came alongside, and a rider jumped into the bed of the truck. Jess let out a scream. Thad pulled his Glock and fired through the back glass, point-blank into the man’s chest. He dropped into the bed of the truck.
The sight of one of their company getting shot didn’t deter them at all. The second ATV came up on my side. The passenger pointed a large revolver at my face; he was so close that it was like looking down a sewer pipe. Tapping the brake, I jerked the front end of the truck into the ATV. The jolt rattled the gunman, and he fired a wild shot over the roof of the truck; the muzzle blast was so big it looked for all the world like it was going to set the truck on fire. The fender caught both riders in their right legs, having come in between the wheels. The front wheel of the ATV was being pushed sideways down the road as the nose of the four-wheeler came slowly around the front of the truck. It was the large root of a pine tree that caught the tire and allowed the wheel of the truck to catch it. The tire stopped moving, but the body of the machine was being pushed by the fender, causing it and its two riders to cartwheel. I jerked the wheel to the right, and the whole rolling mess passed by in a blur.
This all happened in a matter of seconds. It seemed like it was in slow motion. I will never forget the look on their faces, or the TapouT shirt the driver was wearing. The first ATV wheeled around to check on his partners. The Jeep was still coming, though. At some point during all of this, I had turned on the headlights. I saw a paved road coming into view ahead. The headlights of the Jeep were flashing strobe-like through the trees in a flashing blur. As we were almost to the paved road, Thad yelled out, “Stop!” I slammed on the brakes and heard his side-by-side roar, and flame filled the truck with a brief flash. He fired both barrels at the same time, filling the Jeep’s driver’s door and window with holes.
The Jeep passed in front of us and went off the far side of the paved road. There was no sign of brake lights. The truck was filled with the smell of cordite, and I slowly became aware of the high-pitched shrieks of Jess. Thad was reloading the shotty; I tried to calm Jess down.
“Hey, hey, shut the fuck up!” I yelled. I was just a little stressed at the moment, and her caterwauling wasn’t helping any. She slapped her hands over her mouth and looked at me with wide eyes. I heard her breath being forced through her fingers.
“What the hell was that about?” Thad’s eyes were huge; sweat was pouring down his face.
“I have no idea. I guess it’s the new norm,” I replied.
I made a quick right onto the paved road and floored it again, trying to put some distance between us and whoever was back there. The wind coming over the top of the windows was the only sound in the cab, the cool air putting a chill on us as we cooled down from the adrenaline rush. Thad looked over his shoulder into the bed of the truck and gasped. “Pull over, Morgan, pull over!”
“Fuck, what now!” I was looking into the rearview mirror. “I don’t see anything!”
“In the bed; that guy is in the bed, an’ he’s movin’!” Thad was looking back through the spider-webbed glass. Jess was squirming around to look out as well. I quickly stopped the truck, right in the middle of the road—not like anyone was coming. We jumped out and ran around to the bed. There was a young guy lying in there. He was clutching his chest and gasping for breath. Pink frothy blood was around his mouth, running down his cheek.
Thad and I dropped the tailgate, letting it fall this time, and pulled him out onto the ground. We laid him on the pavement; he offered no resistance. Jess came around and looked down. Her hands went to her mouth again, her all too common “oh shit” face. Lying on the road in front of us was what looked like a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old kid. His Dixie Cotton Company T-shirt was covered in blood; the cuff of his Wranglers was slit up the seam to go down over his Justin Ropers. He looked like every kid I saw back around the house.
With a feeble voice, the young man begged for our help. “Help me; (gag) help me.” He tried to spit blood out of his mouth, but he simply didn’t have enough air in his lungs to do it. A wad of pink frothy blood spilled out onto his chin.
“Oh, shit, he’s just a kid. I shot a fucking kid!” Thad had his hands on the top of his head, eyes wide and starting to panic.
“Jess, grab the trauma kit out of my pack.” She didn’t move. “Jess!” She jumped and moved closer to the bed. Reaching in, she had to throw Thad’s pack out of the way to get to mine. Her face went white as she brought her palm up to see it covered in thick, viscous blood.
“Hurry!” I yelled.
She opened my pack. “What’s it look like?” She was obviously in shock. Come to think of it, so was this kid.
“It’s the bag with the big red fuckin’ cross. Now hurry!” She dug down and came out with the pouch, using only her clean hand, the other held out in front of her as if it wasn’t hers. I ran around and grabbed my headlamp out of the bag on the floorboard of the truck and put it on as I came back around.
Kneeling down, I cut his shirt off with the EMT shears from the kit. There was one hole, just low and left of center in his chest. I’m no medic, but the location of the hole and foam on his mouth told me he was hit in the lung. I pulled a Vaseline-coated gauze pad from the kit and some tape. Using the shears, I cut one side of the gauze package open, slipped it out, and set it on top of the package. Then I tore open a large abdominal pad and used that to wipe the blood away from the wound; then I laid the gauze over the hole and the package on top of that. I tapped down the top, bottom, and inside edge of the dressing to his chest. I pulled a Mylar blanket out of the kit and threw it to Thad. “Here, open this up and cover him. Jess, help him.”
Thad was still standing there wide-eyed. Jess was crying. Thad caught the tightly wrapped blanket when I tossed it to him, but he didn’t move. He stood there staring down. “Come on, man, open that thing up!” I yelled. Thad finally unfolded it and knelt down beside the kid.
“You stupid ass, why’d you come after us? We weren’t bothering you!” Thad was laying the b
lanket out over him.
The kid was still having a hard time breathing, but he tried to talk. “That’s my aunt’s day care you robbed.” His eyes were wide, and he kept swallowing hard.
“We didn’t rob anything!” Thad shouted back. “You think we robbed that damn place. Is that why you came after us?”
“You . . . you didn’t break in?” He was not looking good.
“No, we didn’t. Can you feel this?” I was rubbing his hands.
“We thought . . . thought you broke in, so we was . . .” he trailed off.
“You just came out after the first people that came along and went after the wrong ones,” I said. He rolled his head to the side, looking at me. “Thad, take his feet. We’re going to roll him onto his side.”
“Oh my god, oh my god, it was all a mistake, and we shot him!” Jess was starting to freak out again.
Thad was shaking his head. “I can’t believe this. He’s gonna die, and it was a damned mistake!”
“We have to take him to get some help!” Jess yelled. She seemed frantic and couldn’t stand still.
“Where in the hell do you think we’re going to take him?” I was holding the kid’s head off the pavement. His gold rope chain was hanging out of what was left of his shirt.
Thad stood and looked down the road. “We’ll take him to Newberry. It’s just back there. Let’s pick him up!” He knelt and grabbed the kid’s feet and looked up, expecting me to stand and raise his head.
“And do what, Thad? Drive into a town where he’s the local and tell them he got shot? How are you going to explain it to them? Look at him. You really think his buddies are going to let you ride out of town?” There was no way in hell I was driving this kid back into town.