The Borrowed World (Book 3): Legion of Despair

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The Borrowed World (Book 3): Legion of Despair Page 27

by Franklin Horton


  “Oh my God,” Gary whispered.

  “You obviously got away,” Jim said. “How?”

  It was part of the difference between Jim and Gary that Jim did not dwell on the fact that Alice had experienced such an awful event, and instead chose to focus on the fact she’d escaped it.

  Alice looked Jim in the eye and he found a cold practicality that had not existed there before. “I severed his femoral artery with a broken piece of wire. Then I stabbed him with his own knife and shot him in the face.”

  There was something in the way she said it. It was almost a challenge. She was throwing out her deed and seeing if they could accept who she was now. Seeing if they would believe her. Gary looked taken aback; Jim was impressed.

  “I knew there was a fighter in there,” Jim said. “I knew it because of the way we used to fight.”

  Alice found her smile again. “Speaking of that, I stayed in the office the other night and I found the message you left on the wall. I knew you left it for me. I can’t tell you how much it lifted me up to find that.”

  “Did you find the note I left on the candle? About how you must have missed it in your safety inspections?”

  “I did,” she said. “I’m pretty sure I laughed about it, but I may have cussed you too.”

  “Have you been home?”

  “No, she hasn’t,” Gary answered for her. “When I found her, she was weak from a stomach bug and I offered to let her take one of our cars if she’d wait a day and come with us.”

  “That was a good plan,” Jim said. “Safer than traveling alone.”

  “Trust me, I know,” Alice said. “And now that you all have safely arrived, I’m going to empty this vehicle and go check on my own family.”

  Lloyd and Buddy conveniently strolled up at this point to introduce themselves.

  “I’ll be glad to help ya’ll unload,” Lloyd said. “Unfortunately, if we wait too much longer I’m going to be too drunk to be any help.”

  “I second that amendment,” Buddy said, extending a hand to Gary.

  After introductions, they quickly emptied the vehicle that Gary was lending Alice. The contents were piled in the yard to haul inside later. As they prepared to say their goodbyes, Gary moved forward and hugged Alice.

  “Thanks for being there for us,” he said. “You were a big help.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said. She turned to Jim and extended her arms.

  Jim smiled, then hugged her. “I think there’s going to be safety in greater numbers,” Jim said. “If you and your family need a group, you’re welcome to come join us.”

  They broke the hug and Alice smiled at Jim. “I sincerely appreciate that,” she said. “I may be back.” She turned to walk off.

  “Alice,” Jim called. “We’ve been keeping in touch with radios. We’re monitoring channel ten. If you need to get up with us, that’s how.”

  “Got it,” she said. “Channel ten. Thanks.” She got into the vehicle, pulled out, and was gone.

  “She’s different,” Jim said, watching her drive off. “You can tell her experiences have changed her.”

  Gary nodded. “No kidding. The woman nearly blew my damn head off,” he said.

  It was so unexpected that Jim started laughing. “What?”

  “In the hallway at work,” Gary said. “When I went to get the truck, I stopped by my office and startled her. If I hadn’t ducked, she’d have killed me. She actually fired at my head and the door deflected it.”

  Jim shook his head. “Well, do you want to unload the big truck or leave it until tomorrow? I know you guys have had a long day already.”

  “We need to unload it now. It will have to be hidden as soon as possible,” Gary said. “We had trouble at the roadblock and people may be looking for this truck.”

  “You kill Travis?”

  “We didn’t kill him, but he’s dead and people probably think we killed him,” Gary said.

  “I never did like him.”

  “Apparently it was mutual,” Gary said. “Which you might have mentioned before I went ahead and told him that you and I were friends. It didn’t help things.”

  “Sorry.”

  “We’ll talk about it later,” Gary said.

  “There’s food,” Jim said. “I forgot to mention that. My wife and mom sent it.”

  “I’m starving,” Will said.

  “We can eat while we unload,” Gary said. “I won’t be able to rest until this truck is out of sight.”

  “When it’s unloaded, there’s an equipment shed we can put it in for now,” Jim said. “It’s tall enough that we can drive it in and shut the doors.”

  They worked for two hours to unload the contents of the truck. The men did most of the unloading while the women kept the children out of trouble, looked after Charlotte, and set out the food that Ellen and Nana had sent for them. Jim had originally planned on having a little get-together at his place to welcome Gary’s family to the neighborhood, but the mood was too somber after Dave’s death. It was not the time for a party.

  When the unloading was done, Gary and Jim made plans to catch up the next day and start on their security plan.

  “I appreciate this, Jim,” Gary said. “I don’t know how things would have turned out if we’d stayed in our home.”

  “You’re welcome,” Jim said. “I’m pretty sure you would have done the same for me.”

  Jim gathered his weary crew and loaded them into his truck for the short drive back to his place. Lloyd climbed in the front to ride with Jim. Pete and Buddy rode in the back. It was just past sunset and the sky was beautiful in a way that made conversation unnecessary.

  When Jim reached the turnoff for his driveway, he asked Lloyd if he wanted him to take them the rest of the way up to Buddy’s house, but Lloyd declined.

  “We had a good time walking the other evening,” Lloyd said. “I think I’d like to do it again. An evening stroll is good for the soul.”

  “The next time you walk up the road singing in the dark, you might not be so lucky. Someone might hear you and shoot your dumb ass,” Jim warned.

  “Then I would die a happy man,” Lloyd said, meaning every word of it.

  “Have it your way then,” Jim said. He turned off the road and crept up his driveway. He approached the house and Pops, Nana, and Ellen came out, waiting on the porch. They were obviously anxious to hear about Gary’s experience. Jim was glad Ariel was not there on the porch to hear it. It was not a story fit for young ears.

  Jim stopped the truck and everyone piled out.

  “How’d it go?” Pops asked.

  “I don’t even know where to start,” Jim said. He took a seat on the steps and Pete lumbered up and sat beside him. Jim put an arm around his son and patted him on the shoulder. The evening was pleasant and the lightning bugs were flickering through the pasture. The moon and a few planets were beginning to emerge in the darkening sky. The night would be every bit as beautiful as the evening had been.

  “Excuse me, but I ain’t got the stomach to hear this story again,” Buddy said. “Once was bad enough. Are you staying, Lloyd, or are you ready to head back to the house?”

  Lloyd had just plopped himself down on the steps, too. “I just got comfortable but I suppose and I can get uncomfortable just as easy.” He started to get up.

  “Don’t rush,” Buddy said. “I ain’t leaving without saying goodbye to that little peach. Where’s she at?”

  Ellen smiled. “Ariel is in the backyard,” she said. “The last time I looked, she was lying in the hammock reading a book.”

  Buddy smiled too. “That little girl…” he said, trailing off. “Enjoy every second of it. Every second.” His sentiment pulled at each heart. They all knew where he was in his head right now. He was remembering his own daughter, remembering when he and his wife were all that mattered to her, remembering when each thing she did was precious to them.

  “Do you mind if I go tell her goodbye?” he asked.

  “No,”
Jim said. “That’s fine. She likes the attention.”

  Buddy started off around the side of the house while Jim began his telling of Gary’s recent experiences. Pops, Ellen, and Nana had settled into chairs on the porch and were listening eagerly when a scream tore through the evening.

  Jim sprung up from the steps and looked for his weapons. He recalled leaving his M4 in the truck. His Beretta was in there too, slid up on the dash when the paddle holster became drenched in sweat. He started toward the truck to get them but another scream from the backyard pulled him away and he ran as fast as he could.

  *

  Ariel was curled up in the two-person hammock that hung between a poplar and a maple in the backyard. It was a colorful Guatemalan hammock woven of coarse fabric. Ariel loved it because it was so big that it wrapped around her completely when she lay in it, the sides coming together over her head so that it seemed like she was in a cocoon. She was reading the latest Kingdom Keepers book. It was one of her favorite series.

  She thought she heard a sniffing sound outside of the hammock, like when you met a dog for the first time and it smelled you. She went back to her book, then she felt something poke her in the back. She giggled.

  “Pete,” she said. “I know that’s you.”

  She waited for his response, knowing he would usually start giggling, too. Instead of a giggle, she heard a growl. Ariel started to raise up and poke her head out of the hammock where it was closed over her head. She wanted to see what was out there, but she was too scared. She wanted to yell but was frozen with fear. Then she worried that her scream might provoke whatever was out there growling at her. She had no idea what to do. Tears forced their way out and rolled down her cheeks.

  There was a scratch against the hammock where her arm lay. She yanked it away. There was a snarl and something nipped her back through the fabric of the hammock. It hurt. That was when her paralysis broke and she let go with the most powerful scream to ever escape her lips. As her scream faded, a chorus of yipping began around her.

  She screamed again.

  *

  Buddy had just come around the back corner of the house and was looking for the hammock when he heard what sounded like growling. In the low light it took him a moment to find the hammock, everything blending together into the generalized grayness of twilight. It looked like the hammock was swinging, but his old eyes had a hard time assembling all the information.

  Then he heard the scream and the yipping sound that he recognized instantly as the sound of coyotes. They heard it every night in this farming country. It was the sound of hunting. Of predation.

  Buddy could just barely make out the coyotes from the distance. It looked like a tangle of fur encircling the hammock. One latched onto the hammock and violently shook its head back and forth. Ariel screamed again and Buddy loped toward her.

  “I’m coming, baby girl!” he yelled. His heart rate soared and he reached for his pistol, but the shoulder holster was not there. They’d all gotten so sweaty helping Gary unload the truck that they’d removed their guns and left them on the truck dash. His was still there, where it helped him not one damn bit. There was no time to run back for a weapon. As he passed the fire pit, he saw an axe sunk into a pine log and wrenched it free. It would have to do.

  In seconds he was at the hammock and stomped at the spine of the nearest coyote nipping at the hammock. It was larger than he expected, and faster. It turned its head and snapped at his pants leg. He yanked his leg back, then another coyote sank its teeth into his calf. He cursed and kicked, the animal letting go just in time for Buddy to break its back with the axe. It dropped with a whimper. He looked toward the house but saw no one there yet. Surely they were coming.

  Ariel screamed again and he looked down to see a coyote biting into the hammock, tearing away a small section of coarse fabric. The coyote tugged harder, opening the hole further. Buddy struck at it with the axe, but missed as the coyote sprang beyond his reach.

  Buddy yelled when another set of teeth latched onto his calf again, not letting go this time. The teeth pulled at him and he felt a tearing deep inside his leg. Then he heard those teeth grinding against his bone. He swung down with the axe, having trouble getting any force up because of the coyote’s position behind him, but he connected with the animal’s head. It turned him loose and stood there, stunned. Another blow dropped it and it lay there kicking, its eyes rolling crazily in its head.

  The pain in Buddy’s leg made it hard to stand but he knew if he dropped, he would die. There were too damn many of them. He could not run with Ariel – he was too old and the coyotes were too fast –but he had to get her out of that hammock. One of the mangy animals squeezed its head into the opening in the torn fabric. When Ariel screamed again, Buddy parted the top of the hammock and grabbed the child into his arms just as the coyote snapped at her face.

  One of the coyotes leapt at her dangling foot and Buddy twisted his body, yanking her just out of reach of the powerful jaws. With all his remaining strength, he pushed Ariel skyward.

  “Grab onto a branch, Ariel!” he yelled. “Pull yourself up!”

  Ariel latched onto the branches of the tree. She climbed quickly. Buddy embraced the tree, trying to keep himself upright. He had dropped the axe when picking up Ariel and he didn’t see where it went. The coyotes were trying to pull his legs out from under him. He struck at one with his fist, only to have the beast latch onto his hand, crushing the fragile bones of his fingers. He cried out in pain. Ariel recoiled in horror and let loose with another long scream.

  There was a powerful blow to his back as one of the coyotes sprang onto him, trying to bite him on the back of the neck and take him down. He elbowed it and it dropped off him. Buddy looked up into the tree and saw the pained face of Ariel looking down at him. She was reaching a hand toward him as if she could pull him into the tree with her.

  The coyotes continued to bite and tug at him. Buddy felt himself getting weaker. He was going kind of numb, which made him think he might be going into shock. He’d seen it happen to people before, usually just before they died. He looked up again and this time saw his daughter Rachel when she was Ariel’s age. They were playing in the yard and he’d set her in a tree. Now she wanted down and she was reaching for him with her little arms, those little grasping hands. Buddy let go of the tree and reached for his daughter.

  “Shoot them!” a woman’s voice screamed. “SHOOT THEM!”

  It was the last thing Buddy heard.

  *

  Ellen and Nana ran ahead and cleared the kitchen table while Jim and Lloyd carried the bleeding man into the dark house. Jim barked orders.

  “Pete, get my headlamp now!” he yelled. “Ellen, I need the big first aid kit. Pops, I need lanterns and flashlights.”

  They slid the bleeding man onto the kitchen table as Pete ran up with Jim’s brightest headlamp. He slammed it onto his head just as Ellen returned with the large nylon bag that had the advanced first aid kit they took on their camping trips. Jim unzipped a pocket and removed a pair of EMT shears, cutting Buddy’s pants legs off at thigh level.

  “Get me a couple of big towels,” he told Pete.

  While Pete was gone, Jim removed a liter bottle of saline from the kit. When he returned with the towels, Jim unfolded them and placed them under Buddy’s legs while Lloyd held them in the air. Jim poured saline over Buddy’s legs, rinsing away the blood and making it easier to see the numerous wounds. The sight of that did nothing to instill Jim with confidence.

  “Shit,” he said. “I’ll never get all these closed up.”

  “You have to,” Ellen said. “What else are we going to do?”

  “Give me some gloves,” Jim said.

  He examined Buddy’s legs. There were so many teeth marks that it was impossible to tell how many times they’d gotten him. One bite on his calf seemed to be the worst, with a chunk of flesh missing and blood continuing to seep from it. Jim let out a deep breath.

  “There’s a pouch of
celox powder in a side pocket,” Jim said. “It’s orange and says Quick Clot on it. Hand it to me.”

  Ellen thumbed through the contents of the pocket and located it. Jim tore it open and sprinkled the granular powder over the wound.

  “I’ll need a trauma pad next,” Jim said. “It’s a thick, absorbent bandage. Then I’ll need a rolled bandage to hold it in place.”

  Ellen located the items and passed them to Jim. He placed the thick bandage over the celox powder to press it into the wound, then wrapped it tightly. He’d need to check it again in five minutes and make sure it had stopped bleeding. With that wound dealt with, there were at least two dozen others seeping blood and that was just on his lower legs.

  “One at a time,” Jim mumbled, trying to keep himself from getting overwhelmed. “One at a time.”

  He pinched a wound shut. It looked like the deep puncture from a canine tooth.

  “Ellen, give me an irrigation syringe,” he finally said. “Then I’ll need a suture pack. Pops, hold a light for me. Keep it where I’m working.”

  Jim took the irrigation syringe and filled it with sterile saline. He did his best to thoroughly flush out each of the puncture wounds from the bites. Then he opened the suture pack, retrieved some forceps, and stared at the instruments. Despite all of the violent things he’d done lately, he’d never threaded a needle through living flesh.

  “How do you know how to do this?” Lloyd asked.

  “I took a class,” Jim replied. “Good old Dr. Bones.”

  “Have you ever done it before?”

  “Only to an amputated pig’s foot,” Jim said. “That’s what they gave us to use in the class.”

  Lloyd raised an eyebrow and Jim noticed it.

  “You got something to say?” Jim asked.

 

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