by G. R. Carter
The boy nodded and ran to his friend’s side. Kara put an arm around each one and walked down the hallway towards the stairs.
JR started to walk to the bathroom to get cleaned up. The bedroom door slammed and before he realized what was happening, Darwin King had him pinned up against the wall. “Listen, you sorry, sufferin’ drongo. You mess with that girl again and it’ll be me kickin’ your ass, not her. We gotta clear understanding?”
JR turned his back on King.
The Aussie wasn’t letting up. “You don’t have any idea what your father thought of that girl, do ya?”
JR still didn’t look him in the eye. But he did finally reply. “I just don’t get it. He’d drag us out to this little hillbilly town every year. For what? And now I find out he was buying her things, giving her long-term contracts. It’s like she was his girlfriend or something…”
JR finally looked at King with panic in his eyes. King loosened his grip and stepped back.
JR shook his head back and forth. “No, no, no…you got to be kidding me. He’s been sleeping with her? No wonder he took such an interest in her…”
“Yeah, well, it’s not all what you think. Goes a bit deeper than that. But it ain’t none of your business anyhow.”
JR wasn’t listening, deep in his own thoughts. “Oh man, mom is going to be crushed.”
King snorted and chuckled. JR shot him an evil look.
“Ben and your mom haven’t really been together for years, sport. Just puttin’ on for show, really.”
“That’s, that’s…impossible,” JR stammered. “I would have…”
“What? You would have known? Really? You’ve been too busy sticking corporate profits up your nose and chasing the help around the city. You been thinkin’ with the wrong brain, youngsta. You never consider anyone but yourself.”
JR staggered. He wiped his face again, this time for more than just blood. “They’ve been lying to me the whole time.”
“Wasn’t none of your business,” King repeated. When he chuckled again, it was more sarcastic. “You’re a man grown, don’t you say that all the time? Your mom and dad were adults, too. They handled their lives the way they decided. It was mutual, you see.”
JR looked at King with spiteful bloodshot eyes. “You knew the whole time. But dad never thought to confide in me about anything. Not the business, not in life… but you and some backwoods whore…”
King smacked JR hard, open-handed, to sting more than wound. “Don’t you ever call that girl anything but ‘Miss’ ever again. Or you and I are gonna have heaps of trouble between us.” He grabbed JR by the shirt collar. “I never really liked you from the start; I just put on for the sake of your ol’ man. But he ain’t here to prop you up anymore. Find some spine, or find your way out.”
JR looked bewildered. No one ever spoke to Ben Casey’s son this way. Especially not his good-natured buddy from the Outback. He and Darwin had put away many a pint together, hunted on almost every continent, spent hours talking about every imaginable subject. How could he not of known about the darker sides of people he thought were his family and friends?
King held on to JR’s shirt, unwilling to let go until he got his agreement. JR finally gave in, and King turned him loose. “Now, I suggest you get cleaned up and grab a blanket. You’re going to sleep out in the shed with the rest of the men who stayed behind.”
JR almost said something about where King was going to sleep, then thought better of it.
King sensed what he was thinking. He shook his head. “Bloody hell, some kinda light weight your old man got for a first-born son. Just get your ass out of here before I decide to beat it proper.”
JR grabbed a blanket off the bed and stormed out, not even stopping to clean up his face.
Dangerous, that one, King thought. He’s trouble brewin’. Especially when he finds out who Ben Casey’s favorite son really was.
*****
When Darwin finally caught up with Kara, she was moving from one group to the next, making sure they were settled in and warm. He watched her for a moment, enjoying how she seemed to make everyone feel comfortable and welcome.
At least, almost everyone. She caught Darwin’s eye and walked over to him.
“I’m really worried about Sy. Out there in the dark with those inmates around… I wish I hadn’t talked him into going,” she told him.
“Sy’s a big boy, Kara. Bright, too. He won’t get into any trouble. Tough in a fight, too, unless I miss my guess.”
That seemed to brighten her mood a little. As she looked up at him he noticed a little bruise forming on her right cheek. His anger at JR Casey started to swell again. She patted his arm gently and said, “Hey, are you ever going to tell me where you went this afternoon? Sy was worried about you.”
“Sure I will, in a bit. Reckon we can get everyone settled first. Then we’ll have a chat.”
“Did you get JR calmed down?” she asked with genuine concern.
King gave a mischievous smile. “Probably not exactly like you were figurin’.”
“He’s disappeared somewhere. He’s not in the shed with the rest of the men.”
Darwin’s eyes narrowed and his lips thinned. “Rack off, I told him. But to the shed, not off the property.”
“Well no one’s seen him, and Trey was asking.”
“All right, I’ll go have a look around in a bit. Little fella missin’ his ol’ man before hittin’ the sheets, is he?”
Kara shrugged. “A little, I guess. I think he misses his nanny more than his mom and dad; he sees her more, I gather. He’s grown up with her.”
King smiled. “Reckon you remind Trey of her a little, then?”
Kara returned a grin. “Probably, yeah. I still look that young, right?”
“No arguments here, darlin’.” He turned more serious. “How’s your boy holdin’ up? He was supposed to see his father this week, right?”
Kara nodded. “Yeah, although if this crisis hadn’t come up, something else probably would have.”
“Doesn’t break your heart for him to miss it, huh?”
“I guess not. It should…I feel bad for a boy not to see his father…”
Darwin held his hand up. “Kara, enough of the charade. I know who Max’s father really is.”
Kara turned a hundred shades of red in an instant. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stuttered.
“Ben and I were close, Kara. Close enough to tell secrets, some of which I’ll be tellin’ you soon. But he didn’t tell me about Max until around about two years ago, when he started gettin’ real serious about this off this doomsday stuff of his. He wanted to make sure that if anything ever happened to him, you and Max were looked after.” King’s smile was warm and understanding.
Kara’s eyes welled up. “I used to tell myself it was a terrible mistake,” she said, looking down at the oak floor below her feet. “I betrayed Pete, myself, my family…” Her mind was focused somewhere in the past. “But the more I got know Max, the more I got to see Ben’s personality come out in him, I was glad Pete wasn’t his real dad.”
“When did you tell Ben?”
She smiled a little. “I never actually did. He just sort of knew by the time Max was three or four years old.” She grabbed King’s arm. “It wasn’t like I was his mistress. We were both just in a vulnerable spot that weekend.” Her mind went back to that time in the past. “I was trying to figure out how to get away from Pete. Ben’s wife had told him she was seeing someone else…they weren’t really together by then, but it still seemed to hit him hard.” She shook her head and smiled. “It just happened.”
“Life I reckon. He’s a fine boy. I can see why Ben was so enamored by him…and by you.”
Kara flushed again. Then her mood turned darker. “There’s so much to worry about now. JR will go crazy when Ben’s will gets read. I know there’s going to be provisions made for Max. When he finds out…”
“He knows about you and Ben,” King t
old her.
Her face went pale. “Is that why he’s acting this way?”
King shook his head. “Naw, that was just JR bein’ JR. He didn’t figure it out until we had our little talk.”
“You don’t think he’d do anything to hurt Max if he figured out he’s Ben’s son, do you?”
King shook his head. “Not as long as I’m around. His first thought that way will be his last thought, believe that.”
For the first time since she’d met the immensely likable Aussie, Kara got a shiver down her back from the look on his tan face. The blue green eyes seemed to burn; there was something intense and wild hiding in there.
She broke the mesmerizing stare and wiped her eyes. “Dang it, Darwin. We’ve already got so much going on. We really don’t need this drama right now.”
King gave her his best reassuring smile. “Well look at it this way, darlin’: if it really is the end of the world, the good news is you don’t have to worry about anyone readin’ that will.”
Western Illinois Correctional Center
Evening of the Fifth Day
Morton and his remaining Eels jogged out into the wide-open exercise yard, evenly spread in a line. He intended to make a wide circle out past the loading docks, hoping to spend just a few brief moments looking for any signs of movement before approaching.
For the first time tonight Morton wished for less light. An occasional flash above made their shadows dance. Worse, they were highlighted against the still-burning fuel tanks. He glanced over at the blaze, which had spread to the maintenance building. Likely that would continue to spread throughout the entire facility. He wasn’t sure how well the fire suppression system would work without electricity. He’d worry about that later, though, once they had the loading area secured.
“That’s close enough, fellas,” a voice called out from the dark. “We don’t wanna hurt anyone.”
Morton froze in his tracks. The men behind him tried to do the same; some had more luck stopping than others. A few muffled curses mixed with a chuckle from somewhere out in the distance.
He had been through so many ups and downs today, he didn’t panic. He simply didn’t have the energy. “Now what?” he said in disgust to himself, and to the sky above. Without thinking of the danger, he took a step towards the voice.
“That’s close enough, Yank. Reckon you’re the man in charge, eh?”
“Sure as heck don’t feel like it tonight,” Morton said. “Who are you?” he demanded.
Silence hung for a moment and then, “Friends of a friend, maybe. We’re lookin’ for a fella. You all seem like the type might know where he is.”
Morton had heard the accent somewhere before, but couldn’t place it right away. “Yeah, well, we’re kind of busy right now.”
“Yeah, Yank. I can see that. I can also see you don’t have any weapons,” the voice chuckled. “How’s it even possible for a group of Yanks to not have guns? Loki’s balls, boys! I thought in this part of the world everybody had guns.”
Morton’s patience with the game was running thin. “How about you loan me some of yours then? We got somewhere we need to be,” he growled.
“All right, Yank. Calm yourself. Just to show good faith, I’ll let you know that there’s two hostiles standing on the other side of that truck over there. Holding some sort of weapon, can’t make out the type,” the voice called. A solar storm ignited above, just long enough for Morton to catch a glimpse of a shape.
“How about you show good faith by coming out of the dark?” Morton asked. Then he thought about what the voice had said. “And how in the world can you see anyone standing by those trucks?
“Same way I can see there’s ten of you.”
Night vision scopes, Morton thought. Of course.
“You guys military?” he asked.
“Something like that.”
Morton took a chance. “Tell you what: you help us and I’ll take you to find your friend.”
“Howsabout you just tell us where to find him, and we’ll be on our way?” the voice asked.
“Because Special Forces operators don’t leave behind people who need help. I know, because my son was one,” Morton nearly choked on the words. He’d never used his son’s death or his service in any conversation, certainly not as emotional blackmail.
“We’re retired, Yank. We don’t fight for a flag or a greater good anymore. We make our own decisions.”
Morton chaffed at the wasted time. He had men trapped in that prison who needed him. But he was out of options. “So you’re businessmen, then. I understand. Let’s make a deal. I’ll be your guide wherever you want to go. But I’ve got men trapped in that prison I need to get to safety. Going through that loading dock is the only way to do that,” he told them.
He turned to look at the dock area, barely visible in a mixture of shadows and low light from the fire. “You’re going to have to shoot me in the back to stop me.” Morton started to walk.
“Almighty Thor! I like you Yanks sometimes,” the voice said. “Metal balls like Mjolnir itself!”
Morton stopped. He half-expected to wake up any minute; this just had to be some sort of bizarre nightmare. “Who are you guys?” he asked in confusion.
The voice didn’t answer, but Morton found himself surrounded by four men in camouflage with blacked-out faces. Each held a weapon at an angle across their chest. Night vision goggles sat on top of each man’s identical boonie hat.
“Heath Bohrmann. I’ll introduce you to the rest later. You got yourself a deal, though. Figure you’re a man of your word,” the voice he’d been communicating with in the dark said.
“Red Morton. And I’d keep my word, even if you weren’t scary guys with big guns.”
Bohrmann laughed a little too loud. “Yanks!”
Then the smile faded from his face. “I won’t risk my men on a breach, Red. But we’ll take out those two lookouts for you if you want. And any other unfriendlies who might pop up.”
Morton was a little disappointed, but it was the best deal, and the most help, he’d got all night.
“Fair enough. I guess I need to figure out if those are bad guys or my guys standing out there.”
Bohrmann took off his goggles and handed them to Red. “Reckon they’re bad, Red. Seen some nasty stuff come out of that dock so far.”
Morton looked at the disgust on his new acquaintance’s face and decided not to ask. He slipped the goggles on and was immersed into an alien world. Everything was green, objects distinguished only by different hues. The detail was incredible, and Morton flinched when one of the men standing at the dock looked his way.
“Don’t worry,” Bohrmann told him. “They can’t see you.”
Morton nodded and watched as the driver-entrance door swung open. He gasped as a body was tossed out. He watched it slowly tumble down the steps and land on a pile below.
“Told ya you prolly weren’t gonna like it, Red,” Bohrmann said somberly.
Morton said nothing as he pulled the goggles off and handed them back.
“What did you see, Sarge?” McCoy asked.
Morton didn’t answer the question. “You can take them out from here?” he asked Bohrmann.
“Sure, mate,” he replied. “I’ll get a bit closer to make sure of it. But as long as they stay put, we’ll drop ‘em both.”
“And whoever comes out of that door, too,” Morton told him.
“Plan to draw them out in the open,” Bohrmann said with a nod. “I can see where your son got his wits to be an operator. Okay, Red…” Bohrmann nodded again and gave a grin only apparent in the dark because of the contrast of his blacked-out face. “I’ll call ya Sarge, if that’s okay?”
He huddled with his three men, whispering just below earshot of Morton and McCoy. A couple of hand motions, a slap on the shoulder, and the three were gone like ghosts.
“I’m going to stay with you and your boys, Sarge. Figure you’ll need at least one weapon with ya, just in case things take a
turn for the unfortunate,” Bohrmann said.
“I…we appreciate the help,” Morton said. “I’ll make sure it’s repaid.”
Bohrmann smiled again. “Okay, my guys are gonna drop the two outside. We’ll wait for that to happen. After that, a couple of your men are gonna head up to the door and wait for someone to open it. I’ll scratch whoever opens the door, and you’re going to hold it open. The next guy comes to check out why his buddy disappeared, we’ll drop him. We’ll just keep repeating the process until evolution has her way with these critters. That a plan for ya?”
Morton shrugged. “Better than the plan I had.”
“Which was?”
“I was just going to go up and knock.”
Bohrmann chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Yanks!”
*****
“Targets neutralized,” Borhmann told him as he watched through his night vision goggles.
It crossed Morton’s mind those targets may have been someone he once knew, maybe even talked with twenty-four hours before. They could have been locals, helping someone escape, or maybe just inmates following the orders of their tribe. He had no way of knowing exactly. With daylight just a couple of hours away, he’d soon find out. If he lived that long.
Bohrmann gave him a pat on the shoulder and a two-fingered chop. With the signal, Morton and a young Eel named Stanford started making the run across the grass towards the dock. By the time they got to the asphalt, the side-entrance door flung open.
To Morton’s horror, the man standing in the doorway was Santos. The only three guards they had saved on their aborted rescue trip earlier in the night were cowards who had abandoned their posts and their comrades. Clearly Santos made it through okay until now.
That ended when his head disappeared in a cloud of red mist.
“No!” Morton shouted. He watched Santos’ body crumple to the ground under the weight of the gray-clad body he was dragging out. Another figure jumped out of the doorway. This one carried a rifle and pointed it right at Morton.