Roland: Reluctant Paladin

by N. C. Reed

  “We can’t go any faster!” she snapped.

  “Gonna have to, ma’am,” James managed not to snarl, but it took effort. “Someone’s on our trail, and they’re using dogs to track us, sounds like.”

  “Can’t you shoot the dogs?” the woman shot back. “You certainly didn’t mind shooting people!”

  “Ma’am, it ain’t the dogs that bother me, it’s the people with’em,” James told her, gritting his teeth. “Now you need to hush up and get moving. Talking just makes it harder to get your breath.”

  “Why you little...”

  “You’re welcome to stay behind,” James finally snapped. “I’m sick of listening to you, lady. You could have stayed behind. Everybody listen up,” he turned to the rest. “I know you’re tired, and hurting, but someone’s following us. We’ve got to go faster. Everyone pick up the pace!” He kept his voice low. No sense in giving their pursuers any freebies. He turned again to Tom Mackey.

  “I’m guessing you know this country pretty well,” he asked.

  “I do.”

  “You take the lead, then. If you know of any place along the way we can hole up, let me know. If they’re closing, it might be our only option.” Tom nodded, and took the lead. James stayed where he was, waiting as the group passed him by, and then taking the trail position.

  He hadn’t been overly worried before, but things had changed. He hadn’t expected the dogs. The gang had taken them to pursue Roland and James had counted on them to keep after him. For some reason, they hadn’t.

  James figured the people following were not going to be very happy with him if they caught up.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Jesse found Roland in his small office/armory, looking at a topographical map of the area around the school.

  “Thinkin’ about the boy?” he asked, sitting down on an ammo crate.

  “Tryin’ to think like him would be more accurate,” Roland sighed wearily. “We didn’t have much time to plan anything, and did most of this on the fly. We made a general plan, but I got no way of knowing if James was able to stick to it or not.” He pointed to the map.

  “His original plan was to get into this area, in the woods, and make his way back here generally along this route. If he managed to do that, then he would be somewhere along here,” he motioned along the map, “assuming everything went well.”

  “Which we know nothing ever does,” Jesse snorted, to which Roland nodded his agreement.

  “Which presents me with a problem,” Roland sighed. “There’s still quite a few of those thugs out there. The Claymores worked great, but even they only do so much, and a lot of the damage was absorbed by vehicles. There were at least eleven chasing after me, and maybe more.”

  “Which brings us to the reason they stopped chasing after you,” Jesse observed, and again Roland nodded.

  “That worries me,” he admitted. “They were staying with me, pretty much. I didn’t think they’d be able to, but they did. I gained on them every so often, but it was slow, and small. Every time I stopped, they gained. And the dogs. They were using dogs to keep on my trail. So why quit? What changed?”

  “They maybe found out that James had the prisoners and was gone,” Jesse finished for him.

  “Right,” Roland nodded. “Now, here’s an additional problem. My little mission to even the odds wasn’t a complete success. There’s still too many of them. And that’s even assuming everyone was in the convoy, which they probably weren’t.”

  “We can’t leave this place unprotected to mount an effective search for James and the others. Not without risking them coming straight here and attacking.”

  “Plus, any patrol we send out has less than a fifty percent chance to actually come across James,” Jesse sighed, reluctance in his voice. “Best we can do is wait and see if he tries to make radio contact.”

  “Which will be hard to do,” Roland rubbed his face, trying to scrub away his fatigue. “But it’s not impossible. We need to have someone monitoring the radio all the time. Preferably on the roof. The GRMS freqs will give him more range, but we’ve got to be listening.”

  “Look, Ro’, I’ll take care of that,” Jesse promised. “Dude, you have got to get some rest. If we find James, you need to be able to stand a post, or join the rescue. And right now, you ain’t in no shape for either. Get. Some. Rest.”

  “All right,” Roland didn’t argue, which made Jesse’s eyebrows shoot skyward.

  “I’m really bushed,” he admitted. He went over to his sleeping bag and laid down.

  “All right, then,” Jesse stood. “I’m gonna go put someone on radio watch.”

  Roland didn’t reply. He was already asleep.

  -

  James tried to stay calm, but it was getting more difficult by the minute. The group was struggling now, with weaker members starting to lag further and further behind. There was no point in chastising them. They were doing the best they could.

  He had tried his radio, but so far nothing. He was sure Jesse was listening, or if not then he had someone else doing it. The radio just wasn’t strong enough to make it.

  He’d lost track of how far they might have traveled, and didn’t honestly have time to try and work it out so he didn’t bother. Regardless of how far they had come, or how far they had to go, they weren’t going to make it before their pursuers caught up to them.

  That only left him one choice, and it was the one he really, really didn’t want to have to make. Not that it mattered. It had already been made for him. He made his way up the tiny ‘column’ to where Tom Mackey was leading the group through the bush.

  “Take five minutes,” he ordered the group. “Don’t leave the trail, though. Just rest in place. We’re back moving in five minutes, no exceptions.” He took Tom’s arm and led him away from the group.

  “We’re not going to make it, Mister Mackey,” the teen said simply. “They’re gaining with every step. I’m pretty sure I heard a shout a few minutes ago, which means they’re closer than I had figured.”

  “We can’t go any faster, son,” Mackey sighed. “We just ain’t able. Maybe. . .maybe you ought to leave us,” he said. “You’ve tried your best, and I’m eternally grateful to you. You can make it, on your own.”

  “I am leaving the group,” James nodded, and Mackey’s eyes registered surprise. Clearly, he hadn’t expected to hear that.

  “I’m staying here,” James told him. “You’re going on. You know where you are, and where the school is. You can lead the way and make sure everyone stays together.”

  “What are you plannin’ on doin’?” the older man asked, though he was pretty sure he already knew.

  “I’m going to make sure you have the time you need to get there,” James told him softly.

  “Son, that’s -”

  “Our only option,” James cut him off. “And I don’t have time to debate it. I got work to do, and not much time to do it. Get them on their feet, and get on your way. Take this,” he thrust his radio into the older man’s hands. “Won’t do me any good, way out here,” he explained. “But you may be able to call for help, once you get closer. I know they’ll be listening, I just don’t know how far the radio will carry in this terrain. There’s no repeater, so it’s short range at best.”

  “James, this. . .you shouldn’t do this,” Tom said flatly. “I’m an old man. Let me -”

  “No,” James reply was flat. “You’re not in good shape yourself. This is mine to do. Do me a favor and keep Melissa, and Susan too, I guess, close to you. Now, time’s up. Get going, and try not to stop for anything. It’s the only way you’ll be safe. Tell Roland...” James trailed off at that, seeming to be at a loss for words.

  What message did he send his mentor? What to say? Thanks? So long? See you around?

  “Tell Roland this was the only way,” he settled for saying. “He’ll understand. Tell him it was my choice. And… tell him thanks for bringing me along. He’ll know what I mean.” He sniffed slightly, and h
ardened himself.

  “Now, it’s time you went.” With that James started back the way they had come. Melissa Andrews grabbed his arm as he passed.

  “James, where are you going?” she asked, concern in her voice.

  “Just going to check our back trail,” he lied smoothly. “I want to see how many there are, and how close they’re getting. If they keep gaining, we’ll need to find a place to hole up. Tom’s going to work on that as he leads the group toward the school. Stay close to him,” he said finally. With that he continued on his way.

  “I can come with you,” she called after him.

  “No, you can’t,” he called back, never turning. “Go on now.”

  She watched him go, butterflies in her stomach. For some reason, she was scared for him. It seemed silly, but. . .she liked him. She was older than he was but...

  “Miss, let’s get started,” Tom said softly, breaking into her thoughts. “Keep an eye out for people struggling, if you will. We need to move quickly as we can.”

  “He’s not coming back, is he?” Melissa asked.

  “He’ll catch up, soon as he sees what’s behind us,” Tom assured her, unknowingly saying just the right thing. “He’s worried they’re gaining on us.”

  “All right,” she nodded, and helped Susan to her feet. “Let’s get going.”

  Behind them James continued walking back the way they had come.

  -

  James eased himself into a small clump of trees and brush, behind a large tree that had fallen during some past storm. It was still solid, and would provide at least some cover.

  Cover and concealment, Roland had told him. Not the same things, but both important. When engaging a superior force, use stealth, ambush, move and repeat. Keep moving, always keep moving. If you stop moving the enemy has a chance to zero in on you. Once that happens, you’re finished.

  No mercy. Never give an enemy a break. There is no honor on a battlefield, that’s for stories, for children, for writers and dreamers and poets. On the battlefield there’s only life and death. Live or die.

  James settled himself, waiting. He could hear the dogs plainly now, and could hear distant voices as well. He couldn’t yet make out what the pursuing men were saying, but their voices were becoming clearer by the minute.

  He removed the magazine from his rifle, more from impatience than need, and checked it. It was full so he slammed it back home. He repeated the action with his pistol, and then checked his gear to make sure that spare magazines were where they were supposed to be.

  His hands roamed by feel to his knives, checking that they were secure, and then to the tomahawk. He’d learned to use one a while back, and liked the ancient weapon. It just felt. . .right, in his hands.

  James licked his lips and found them dry, as was his mouth. He took a drink from his canteen, swishing the water in his mouth, making the most of the single mouthful of water he allowed himself. This might be a long day, and most of his water had gone to the people he’d rescued.

  He could hear them now. Shouting directions to each other. Laying his rifle along the tree trunk in front of him, James dialed the selector switch to semi- and waited. He didn’t have long to wait.

  A bloodhound burst from the woods, sniffing the ground in front of him. He was followed shortly by a Doberman, following his lead. His eyes sad at the thought of what he had to do, James took careful aim and squeezed the trigger.

  The suppressed rifle made a flat crack and the bloodhound fell dead. Another shot took the Doberman before the large predator dog could react. James looked intently around the edge of the woods, knowing there should be at least one more dog. He was sure he’d heard three distinct dog ‘voices’.

  Sure enough, just seconds after he’d killed the first two a chocolate colored Lab followed them. She was hardly out of puppy hood, tail wagging, and tongue out from exertion. James could have cried as he took aim once again. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, the dog raised her head, looking right at him, and wagged her tail.

  He stopped.

  I’m not shooting that dog unless it attacks me, he thought to himself. The voices were still behind, and no motion was visible through the trees. James made a quick, risky decision, and whistled softly.

  The Lab responded at once, galloping in his direction. Working through his small hiding place, the dog came to his side and sat down. James hesitantly reached out and stroked the dog’s side, getting a lick to his hand for his efforts.

  James smiled suddenly, and ruffed the dog’s head. For just a minute, a brief, wonderful, carefree minute, he was a teenager again. Just a boy with a dog.

  Then he turned his attention back to the wood line. There were many voices now that the dogs had gone silent. Questioning. Concerned. Worried.

  But still coming. James closed his eyes for just a second, breathing deeply. When he opened them, he could see the first of them working toward the small clearing.

  He waited until four of them were visible before he opened fire.

  -

  “Roof reports distant gunfire,” Maria informed Jesse as the older man was eating lunch. “It’s the right direction to be James, perhaps,” she added. Jesse nodded, standing.

  “Do me a favor, please, and fill two of the two quart canteens,” he asked. Maria nodded. “I need four MRE’s too,” he added.

  “You are going after him.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Don’t know what you mean,” Jesse said casually. “Just gonna see if all this shootin’ is something we need to worry about, that’s all.”

  “I see,” Maria managed to keep a straight face. “Will you need anything else on this. . .sight seeing trip?” she asked.

  “First aid kit,” he said calmly. “I’ll be by to collect them in a minute.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  James shot three of the pursuing thugs before they could comprehend they were under fire. The others scattered, running and hopping in a way that would have been funny had it not been so deadly.

  As soon as he had shot the third man, James himself was moving to his next spot. He had picked four places, including the first one, that he felt were the best available for both cover and concealment, and to escape if the numbers were too great. If they pursued him so much the better, since he would lead them away from the former prisoners.

  If they didn’t? Then he’d just have to hunt them.

  The remaining pursuers were returning fire now, but wildly, simply spraying the woods around them. James smiled as he could almost hear Roland snorting, amateurs.

  But even spraying fire wildly someone could get lucky, and James buried his head under yet another fallen tree, this one not quite as large but solid none-the-less. He felt the impact of more than one round striking the old tree trunk but there was no way to tell if it was on purpose or not.

  The fire slackened, and he could hear one of them yelling at the rest to stop firing. Taking a chance, he raised his head to take a peek over the log.

  -

  “Stop shootin’ dammit!” Brick yelled again. “Did anyone see anything?” A few more sporadic shots were heard, and then the firing died down.

  “Dammit, did you see him or not?” Brick demanded.

  -

  James could see a large man with dirty blonde hair, beard, and a leather vest bellowing at the rest. He didn't recognize him as Ponytail, but ...

  He must be the leader, James thought to himself. I take him out, might keep the rest of ‘em off kilter. He raised his rifle, but before he could take a shot, the big man moved, and James couldn’t get a shot.

  -

  “See about them,” Brick ordered, pointing to the rest. “Tommy, did you see anyone?”

  “No, Brick,” Tommy admitted, looking around them. “I didn’t. Didn’t hear the shots, neither.”

  -

  James couldn’t see the leader anymore, but he could see the man the leader was talking to. Adjusting his aim, he squeezed the trigger.


  -

  “I was shootin’ at places I thought he could be hid,” Tommy was saying. “Anywhere there was cov...” a hole appeared in Tommy’s forehead, cutting his statement off. Tommy looked confused for a second, and then fell to the ground.

  Brick was still standing there, stunned, when the others opened fire again.

  -

  James ducked behind his tree as the woods around him once more exploded with gunfire. Again, he felt rounds hitting his tree, but not in any concentrated force. They were just spraying the woods again, hoping for a hit.

  Time to move, he thought to himself. Let them get comfortable, and then hit’em again. He looked at the Lab, cowered slightly by the gunfire.

  Oh, man, he thought. I hope she don’t panic.

  “C’mon, girl,” he said softly. “We gotta run.” He rose into a crouch and took off into the woods.

  A hail of gunfire sounded behind him.

  -

  Jesse had taken the Humvee. He didn’t mind walking, but if James was hurt he’d need to get him back as soon as possible. Plus, there were the people he was supposed to free. Some of them might need help, too.

  Jesse stopped five miles from the school, pulling well off the road, and hitting the kill switch Roland had installed. He stood near the front of the vehicle for a while, listening. By his estimation, there was no way James and any people he had with him could have gotten further than this, and likely hadn’t made it this far.

  Jesse studied the map, eyeing the route that Roland had showed him. If James had been able to stick to his plan, then he’d be somewhere along. . .here.

  Folding the map, Jesse shouldered his pack, and set off in that direction.

  -

  Brick yelled yet again as Wilbur, one of the dumber guys in the group, (and boy wasn’t that saying something!) ripped off half a mag from his rifle into the woods.

  “Dammit, Wilbur, you moron!” he screamed. “Stop shootin’ at shadows!”

  “I seen somethin’,” Wilbur said firmly. “Color o’ some kind, right over there!” he pointed, never taking his eyes off the spot. Brick thought about that, and nodded.