by Mark Church
They aren’t on the highway long before the woman points ahead and asks, “What are those things hanging from the train trestle?”
They all stop before squinting through the dark at the suspended objects. The moon isn’t putting out enough light for them to see at this distance, so they slowly begin moving closer.
When they close the gap sufficiently the gruesome scene begins to materialize. At first their minds can’t compute what they are seeing until they are forced to accept the reality of what is before them. Hanging from the trestle are four bodies, all brutally savaged.
Tim shines his flashlight at the unfortunate souls. What he sees shakes him to his core. Whoever did this used the corpses own intestines to hang them from the trestle. In a macabre way, they resembled high wire performers in the devil’s own circus act.
Tim’s male companion bends over and wretches.
His female companion, a bit more composed, gasps incredulously, “Who would do such a thing!”
Tim inspects one of the bodies more closely before saying, “It looks like they left their calling card.”
Pointing at the letters ‘SF’ carved into one of the corpses foreheads Tim explains, “I’m pretty sure it’s meant to communicate ‘Special Forces’.
“The government soldiers did this?” The woman questions in horror.
Tim nods his head.
“Oh, God.” The man wipes vomit from his lips. “I thought we were done with them!”
They all quietly contemplate the moment’s significance. They quickly realize that their world and everything that they have worked for is in serious jeopardy.
Contemplating the scene, Tim comes to a decision. “Come on, let’s get these people down. I don’t know who they are, but we can’t leave them hanging up here like this. We’ll hide the bodies and come back tomorrow to give them a decent burial.”
They begin the grisly task of cutting down the corpses. After they’ve all been freed from their ghastly harnesses, they move the disfigured bodies into a stand of bushes just off the highway.
The work takes the better part of an hour. Exhausted both mentally and physically, they take a few moments to regroup.
The chill of the night air eventually coaxes them back to their feet. The extra heat generated by their physical labor has been replaced by bone chilling shivers made worse by their sweaty undergarments.
“Come on, let’s get back to the truck.” Tim heads off, relieved that human dignity has been preserved to some small degree.
They don’t have far to travel but the walk gets their blood flowing which warms them a bit.
When they arrive at their truck, they find it just as they left. They waste no time climbing in and firing up the motor. While their breath is visible in the open air of the cab, the whirring of the truck’s heater fan promises relief from the biting cold.
They are underway after giving the truck’s motor a few moments to warm up. The ensuing conversation is dominated by the prospect of soldiers operating in their area. All three are obviously distraught by this revelation, and dread telling the rest of the community. Bad news is never easy to deliver, but this news will be especially difficult.
Tim and the others discuss ways to tell everyone, but in the end, decide that there’s no way to sugar coat the reality of the situation. They understand that the relative peace of New Town is about to be shaken to its core and, in the coming weeks and months, their community will be challenged in unimaginable ways.
✽✽✽
The kitchen slash operating room is almost back to its original condition. The casual observer can barely tell that it recently doubled as a trauma center. The two dogs resting in the corner are the only things out of place, otherwise the room looks much as it did earlier in the day.
Amy finishes wiping down the counter before throwing her rag in a basket and takes a seat at the kitchen table. Mike pulls up a chair and joins her as Gena puts on some hot water for tea. Kayla is in the living room helping Cole put on a clean shirt.
“That’s more excitement than I need in a day.”
Mike nods his head and says, “It could have been worse. You did a great job, Amy”
“Thanks, you too, but knowing it could have been worse didn’t make it any easier.”
“Who’s ready for tea?” Gena bustles over the tea pot, preparing to take care of the care takers for a few moments.
Both Amy and Mike raise their hand in unison.
“Where are the little ones?” Amy realizes she hasn’t seen the youngsters since she ran out to find Kayla and Cole.
“I put them to bed about fifteen minutes ago. They were asleep before their heads hit the pillow.” Gena calmly pours tea into cups and hands them around.
Cole and Kayla wander in to the kitchen.
“We want some too,” Kayla sings out.
“Grab a couple of cups and help yourselves.” Gena sits down to enjoy her tea.
Setting the freshly retrieved cups on the table, Kayla asks, “Shouldn’t Jake and the others be back by now?”
“You would think so,” Mike agrees. He has been wondering the same thing himself but didn’t want to worry Amy by bringing it up.
The worry on Amy’s face is evident. “I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. It’s been dark for over an hour.”
“And it’s getting really cold,” adds Gena.
A foreboding settles across the room. It’s almost as if they know that they will be called into action again soon. They quietly sip their tea and bide their time.
They don’t have to wait long. The sound of a vehicle racing towards the house prompts them to race to the living room. Cupping their hands against the windowpanes, they press their foreheads against their hands to block out the living room light.
Through the darkness, they see the headlight of a fast-moving truck bouncing across the pasture.
Mike grabs his coat and runs out the front door to open the gate. He’s able to cover the distance and open it just in time for the truck to race through. He swings the gate shut before running to the truck, which has stopped parallel to the front porch.
Those in the house have already run outside as Jake scrambles out of the truck and yells, “Kate’s been shot!”
Everyone springs into action without the need for direction. Gena and Kayla immediately go inside to prepare the kitchen while the others determine how to best handle Kate without further damaging her wound.
Kate has lost consciousness, which is probably a blessing at this point given the amount of pulling and tugging required by John to get her out of the truck. The others are willing to assist but the lack of maneuvering room relegates them to anxious bystanders.
Finally, free from the back seat, John cradles Kate in his arms and races for the porch. Cole runs ahead to hold open the front door as they rush to get her inside.
“Take her to the kitchen and put her on the table.” Amy prepares to take lead again on the medical front.
The men follow Amy’s direction and place Kate on the kitchen table. Jake notes the two dogs in the corner but is too focused on Kate to question their presence.
“Where was she shot?” Amy snaps out.
“In the right shoulder,” John indicates.
“Anywhere else?”
“I don’t think so.”
Amy and Gena immediately begin cutting away Kate’s coat and shirts.
“You men,” orders Amy, “into the living room.”
“I’m staying,” John affirms.
“Fine, but the rest of you – out!”
Jake, Mike, and Cole file out leaving John at Kate’s side. After cutting away Kate’s last layer of clothing, Amy can plainly see the bullet’s entry wound. It’s near the crook of her right shoulder and about the diameter of a pinky finger. Thankfully, it appears that the bleeding has slowed.
“How long ago did this happen?” Gena efficiently begins stacking clean rags and puts another pot of water on to warm.
; “About an hour and a half ago.” John anxiously watches Amy’s exam and Gena’s preparations.
“The bullet must not have hit any vital organs or arteries otherwise she would have never made it this long,” Gena determines.
“Turn her over, I want to see if there’s an exit wound.” John’s biggest fear on the bumpy ride back was that a bullet lodged internally was rolling around creating even greater damage.
When they turn Kate onto her side, they spot the exit wound immediately. It’s a bit bigger than the entry wound but not by much.
“We’re in luck. The bullet passed straight through her shoulder which is why most of the bleeding has stopped.” John drops his head to Kate’s shoulder, his face ashen. His greatest worry relieved, there is still much to be concerned about.
They return Kate to her back.
“How do we treat this?” Amy has never treated a bullet wound and is uncertain how to begin.
“I’ve seen this type of wound many times in the military,” John explains. “Since we don’t have to dig out the bullet and there’s no organ damage, all we should to do is clean the wound and stich her up to prevent further bleeding.”
“We had plenty of practice with that earlier this evening.” Kayla feels relief to find that their expertise is up to the demands of the situation.
“What do you mean?” John is confused.
“We’ll fill you in later, right now, let’s take care of Kate.” Amy gets to work doing exactly as instructed.
✽✽✽
“What’s going on in there?” Jake calls through the door.
“Best case scenario,” replies John. “I’ll give you an update in a few minutes.”
Jake moves away from the door and, for the first time, realizes that Cole’s arm is wrapped in a bandage. “What happened to you?”
“We had a run in with a mountain lion.”
“Mountain lion! Where?”
“Coming back from the outpost. We were about halfway down the mountain and it ambushed us near a fallen tree. The cat attacked me first, but Bull came to my rescue.”
“Bull?” questions Jake.
“The male dog that’s been hanging around with Shadow.”
Jake reflects back to the two dogs he saw when he brought Kate in. “I guess that explains the dogs in the kitchen.”
“Yeah, Bull’s pretty beat up, he took the brunt of it. He’s got a couple hundred stiches in him.”
“I spent the better part of an hour putting them in,” adds Mike. “And he didn’t even try to bite me. Not sure I would have been as tolerant if the shoe was on the other foot.”
“What finally chased the cat away?” Jake, fresh off a military confrontation, needs a bit of time to wrap his mind around this threat from wildlife.
“When Shadow joined the fight,” Cole clarifies, “the cat ran off.”
“Which explains why she wasn’t hurt,” adds Mike.
Jake nods in understanding, “How bad is your arm?”
“I’ve got a pretty bad gash on my forearm and two puncture wounds, but I’ll be okay. Amy took really good care of me. You’d think she’d gone to medical school the way she stitched me up.”
“Kayla seemed alright, was she hurt at all?”
“Nope, the dogs made sure of that.”
“It’s unusual for a cat to attack humans,” Jake ruminates. “It must be old or injured. We’re going to have to find it and kill it. We can’t risk this happening again. The next run-in could be worse.”
The attention turns to John when he enters the living room, “They are stitching her up now. The bullet went straight through her shoulder and doesn’t appear to have hit any bone. The bleeding has stopped which is good, but she’s going to be mighty sore when she wakes up.”
“Thank God!” Jake closes his eyes, relieved to hear this good news.
“Amen,” adds Mike.
“So how did it happen? Did the people you went to meet do this?” Cole demands.
“No, that went well. In fact, better than expected. The problems started when we ran into a group of soldiers on our way back from New Town.” John explains.
“Soldiers!” Cole and Mike simultaneously jump out of their chairs.
“Unfortunately, yes, and they were eager for a fight.” Jake takes over the narrative.
Cole and Mike are momentarily stunned. Surprise and fear take turns playing across their faces.
Reading their expressions, Jake motions them to sit back down. “That was pretty much my reaction when we first saw them.”
“We tried to avoid them but that didn’t work out so well,” John adds.
Jake elaborates a bit more on the encounter before saying, “When the girls are finished, we’ll have an emergency meeting to decide what to do.”
“What do you mean, ‘decide what to do’?” Cole isn’t sure what John and Jake might have in mind.
“I’m mean do we stay, or do we go,” answers Jake.
“Are you suggesting that we leave the Refuge?” Mike asks in astonishment.
“I’m not suggesting anything, but it’s an option.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Cole is defiant, as the young tend to be. “If they want the Refuge, they’re going to have to take it!”
It’s apparent that Cole’s testosterone is doing the talking.
“No decisions are going to be made right now.” Jake calms him down, “We’ll get together and talk it out, okay?”
Cole doesn’t respond but it’s obvious that his rebellion remains high.
The moment is diffused when Amy enters the room and says, “We need to get Kate up to her bedroom.”
“I’ll get her.” John heads to the kitchen.
“I’ll help you,” adds Mike.
The two men follow Amy back into the kitchen.
When they are gone, Jake approaches Cole and puts his hand on his shoulder before saying, “I know how you feel Cole. We’ve put roots down here and you don’t want to run – again. Believe me, I get it. But we still have to be smart. We have to do what’s right.”
“Maybe the right thing to do is stay and fight.” Cole looks his father in the eyes.
“Maybe it is,” Jake agrees mildly, “but I just want to think it through, okay?”
Cole holds his tongue, but reflexive emotions continue to dominate his thoughts, an internal game of tug-of-war between defiance and compliance wages.
Jake gives Cole a moment to reflect, and to let his better judgment gain a foothold.
“So, what do you say, Cole?”
In the end, he respects his father too much to continue arguing the point. “Yeah, Pop. You’re probably right.”
Cole’s use of the term ‘Pop’ signals that all is right between them. It’s an endearment that reaffirms the solid footing of their father-son relationship.
The expression harkens back to simpler times when Cole was just a small boy, a time when his innocence allowed him to believe that his father was all-knowing and could do no wrong. Cole’s experience and maturity have largely disproven this notion but, as with most grown men, the boyhood memories of a larger-than-life father is always alive and well.
“Why don’t you bring everyone back to the living room. I want to fill everyone in on our New Town friends.” Jake sounds almost as exhausted as he feels.
Cole acknowledges his father’s request with a nod before leaving to retrieve the others.
Jake walks to the window and looks out into the blackness. Fatigue washes over him. The anxiety driven energy that has been propelling him along is beginning to wear off.
In spite of his desire to talk this out, he considers only offering a high-level overview of their day’s adventures with the promise of more detail and discussion in the morning.
The sheer exhaustion he feels makes up his mind. He surrenders to the reality that they’ll all benefit from a good night’s sleep. A new day has a way of fostering a more coherent perspective, and clear heads will be essential as they conte
mplate their latest crisis.
13 director of re-education
As Hannah moves from sound slumber to semi-consciousness, she becomes increasingly aware of a loud ringing sound in her ears. As the fog of sleep lifts, she realizes that the annoying sound is her alarm clock’s unrelenting efforts to wake her.
Hannah rolls onto her side and opens one eye to look at the clock. It’s 7:30 am. The good news is that she hasn’t overslept, the bad news is – she’s still tired. She reluctantly swings her legs over the edge of the bed and lets them dangle for a moment before pressing the alarm off button.
The sunlight streaming through the cracks in her blinds is both a blessing and a curse. She squints to filter out the bright light as she slides off the bed and makes her way to the bathroom. Glancing at her reflection on her way to the toilet reminds her how unforgiving an early morning mirror can be, especially after a few glasses of wine the night before.
Hannah replays last night’s discussion with Ken as she relieves her bladder. His proposal couldn’t be timelier and, while she knew immediately that she would accept his offer, she told him that she needed to take some time to consider it. Appearing somewhat indifferent seemed to be a good strategy considering that her true mission was to acquire insider government information for the resistance.
The next sixty minutes includes a shower, hairstyle, and makeup before some coffee and a quick bite to eat. Ken’s driver will be here soon, and Hannah wants to be ready when the car arrives.
There’s a knock on the door at 9:00 am sharp. Hannah opens the door to find a well-dressed middle-aged man standing in front of her.
“Good morning, ma’am, I was sent by congressman Klinton.” He politely removes his hat.
“Yes.” answers Hannah. “Give me a minute please.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Can I get you some coffee?” Hannah yells to the man from inside the apartment.
“No thank you, ma’am.”
The driver waits in the hallway while Hannah gathers her purse and coat.
Hannah locks her door after exiting the apartment, then follows the driver down the stairs and out to his waiting sedan.
The driver reaches the car first and opens the back door. He invites Hannah to enter with a sweeping hand gesture toward the car’s exposed back seat.