Fighting Rough

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Fighting Rough Page 6

by Ryan Westfield


  Georgia’s mind was racing a mile a minute.

  But this wasn’t the time for musings.

  Quick decisions needed to be made. Life or death decisions.

  For all she knew, a horde of heavily armed men were about to burst into the camp.

  “We need to get out of here,” said James. “They’re going to follow us right back here.”

  “But Max and Mandy won’t know where we went,” objected John.

  “We can’t worry about Max and Mandy right now,” said Georgia. “But this is a good spot to defend from. There are trees all around us. We’ve got advantages if we stay here.”

  In the back of her mind, though, Georgia knew that the real reason she wanted to stay was so that Max and Mandy could find them again. After all they’d been through together, Georgia couldn’t abandon them. Not like this.

  Georgia’s back was killing her, and she felt physically weak. She’d need to take that into account. She wasn’t going to be able to rely on herself to step in when things got ugly. She’d have to count on herself possibility failing. If she didn’t do that, everyone might die. Her kids might die.

  “OK,” said Georgia. “Jake and Rose, get a handgun each.”

  “But I don’t even know how…”

  “Get them!”

  “We don’t even know the first thing about…”

  “Find the safety, switch it off. Point the gun, and pull the trigger.” She spoke in a commanding way, daring them to challenge her. “Go!”

  They rushed off into the snow, towards the van where the extra rifles were. There wasn’t even time to be frustrated or furious with them.

  “The rifles won’t be of much use now,” said Georgia. “since we can’t see very far.”

  John, Cynthia, and James were still staring off into the direction they’d come from. But there was nothing. Nothing coming.

  For now.

  “We’ll use the van,” said Georgia. “We’ll use it as a shield if we have too. Come on.”

  Georgia couldn’t move that quickly through the snow with her injury. James held out his arm so she could use it as support, but she shook her head. “Keep your eyes peeled,” she said. “Don’t worry about me.”

  Georgia was wracking her brain for what kind of defense they could set up. Most of the ideas, though, would take a long time to set up. And the others, well, they weren’t applicable in such heavy snow.

  In the past, Georgia had relied on her rifles. She was a good shot at a distance. But that didn’t matter now.

  This was going to be close range fighting because of the visibility. But it was also out in the open. Completely different than an urban environment.

  The trick, thought Georgia, was going to be create the kind of environment that they needed, the kind of environment in which they would have the advantage.

  Georgia still had a few tricks up her sleeve.

  11

  Anton

  “They killed three of your men,” said Marshal.

  They were standing apart from the remaining men in a snowdrift, the snow practically up to their knees.

  Anton was determined not to show weakness in front of Marshal or his men. He was determined to show nothing but victory. He was going to plow on ahead no matter what.

  He’d destroy Max and the rest of them.

  The idea of capturing the radios had become completely secondary to him.

  “They didn’t fight well,” said Anton. “If they’d been better, they wouldn’t have died.”

  “I don’t know, man,” said Marshal. “They did what they could.”

  “I thought you were tougher,” said Anton.

  “There’s more to being tough than big words and a tough-guy attitude,” said Marshal.

  “What are you getting at?”

  “I think this mission is a complete failure. We need to turn around. Unless you want to lose the rest of your men.”

  “You’re just worried about your own skin. You don’t want to die out here in the snow.”

  “Look, man, I’ve been through worse. Much worse. I’m like a cockroach. Nothing can kill me.”

  Marshal’s eyes stared right into Anton’s. They seemed to penetrate him. They were dark and moody, intense and also horrible. Marshal saw something there that he hadn’t seen before. After all, he wasn’t in the habit of studying men’s eyes. Or what they contained.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Anton. “You’re just scared.”

  “You can’t trick me,” said Marshal. “I’m not someone you can use petty little psychological tricks on to get what you want. I’ve been through the Army. Before prison. You didn’t know that, did you? I’ve seen more combat than you’ll ever see. I know how to survive, trust me. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  “You don’t know shit,” said Anton. “Anyone can say anything. There’s no way to confirm that.”

  “Nope,” said Marshal. “The EMP changed everything. We’re just who we are now. No records. No nothing. You can think whatever you want of me. I don’t give a shit. What I’m telling you is that if you continue, you’re going to lose all your men, and probably your own life.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” But the more Anton protested, the more he really did think that Marshal knew what he was talking about.

  “It’s your call, Anton,” said Marshal. “It’s your decision. If you want to attack, I’ll be right there with you.”

  “But you’ll ditch us at the last moment to save your own skin, right? Isn’t that what you’ve been telling me?”

  “You should know those of us who’ve been incarcerated take loyalty very seriously. I’m loyal to my old gang. And I’m loyal to the militia. I’m loyal to Kor. And my mission is to aid you. It’s a matter of honor, of loyalty.”

  Anton eyed him, trying to see if he was telling the truth. He probably was. From the sound of it, those militia guys were crazy. Almost too intense.

  “Hey, boss?” said one of the guys, calling out across the swirling snow. “What’s the word?”

  “You wait!” shouted Anton. “Until you hear otherwise, got it?”

  “We’re freezing our asses off, boss.”

  “Then light a fire or some shit,” yelled Anton.

  He thought being a leader was going to be easy. Kara had made the whole thing look like a cakewalk.

  But here they were, his own men, questioning his orders.

  It was enough to drive anyone insane.

  He felt the anger rising through his chest, which felt as hot as a burning coal, despite the freezing wind.

  He felt the anger in his head. His forehead was scorching hot.

  “You get more respect from them talking to them… differently,” said Marshal.

  “I didn’t ask for your opinion, OK?” snapped Anton.

  “Whatever you say, Anton.”

  Anton stared at Marshal, quivering in anger.

  But Marshal remained calm. Nothing seemed to shake him.

  “Look,” said Marshal. “I’m here as an envoy. Observe. But also help. Right?”

  Anton just stared at him.

  “What I’d do,” said Marshal, “is I’d send in a scout. A single guy. See what’s going on.”

  “But we know right where they are. The marks in the trees… they must lead back to the camp.”

  “Yes, but there’s a reason you’ve been here stalling for an hour, right?”

  Anton didn’t say anything.

  “Obviously the enemy knows how to fight. They know how to shoot. We can’t underestimate them, and we’ve got to assume they’re taking this time to set up some defenses.”

  “You don’t think they’ll just flee?”

  “No, and neither do you. Or else you would have rushed in.”

  Anton knew he was right. Max and the others wouldn’t want to abandon their gear. Their radios. Leaving their camp was as good as committing suicide. Anton knew that they didn’t have proper winter gear. The
y didn’t have it when they’d visited the compound, at least.

  “Max is probably setting up some defenses,” said Anton. “I don’t think they’ll flee. For a variety of reasons.”

  Marshal nodded. “I don’t think they will, either. Now we’ve got to know what we’re up against.”

  Anton nodded. The anger was starting to leave him. He was starting to see that Marshal was making some sense. Maybe Marshal really did want to help.

  It had all gotten turned around in his head. It’d been the cold, the snow, the intense wind. He hadn’t been expecting any of that.

  Just a few hours ago, he’d been convinced he’d impress Marshal.

  Now he wasn’t sure what the roles were. It was all muddled.

  Anton didn’t like things like that. He liked things cut and dry. Clear. That was why he’d wanted to be the leader, to take power. If he ruled the compound, he could keep things simple. He could make things the way he liked them, and not have to worry about the wishes of others muddling things up for him. It’d be his way or no way.

  “All right,” said Anton. “I’ll send someone in to see what they’re up to. We’ll be able to better coordinate our attack.”

  “All right,” said Marshal, nodding. “Sounds like a good plan.”

  Anton shivered in the cold. His fingers and toes were freezing and going partially numb. He couldn’t feel the end of his nose. There was ice building up on his eyelashes.

  He’d never expected a storm to move in, nor for it to move in this fast. The dropping temperature was a surprise. Normally it dropped during the night, not during the day.

  Marshal didn’t seem affected by the cold. Maybe he was made of tougher stuff than Anton.

  Anton was trying his best not to appear cold. But his body was shaking almost uncontrollably at this point.

  He wasn’t unusual. Marshal was the unusual one. If Anton was this cold, surely his men would be too.

  If they were going to fight well, they’d need to warm up.

  “OK,” said Anton, clapping his numb hands together, and walking towards the men. “Ricky, you’re going to be scouting.”

  “But, Anton…”

  “I don’t want to hear it, Ricky,” said Anton, raising his hand. “Get in there close enough to see what’s going on. Report back with information that’ll help us attack.”

  Ricky stood there, his mouth hanging open. There was ice forming in his beard.

  “You heard me,” shouted Anton. “Now get going!”

  Ricky stood frozen for a full ten seconds before he started to move.

  Anton stared him down as he walked away, his eyes drilling holes into his snow-covered back.

  Morale wasn’t good. Anton could understand that. But he needed people to do what he said. He was the leader, after all.

  “OK, you, over there.”

  “Wilson, sir.”

  “Wilson, yeah, get a fire started. The rest of you, help him get the wood.”

  “I don’t know if we can start one in all this snow.”

  “I don’t care how you do it. Just get it done.”

  Anton’s voice was already feeling a little horse from yelling above the gusts of wind.

  He walked back over to Marshal, who wasn’t shivering.

  A wry smile appeared on Marshal’s lips. “You really told them, huh?”

  “Maybe they’re right,” said Anton, ignoring him. “I don’t know how they’re going to get a fire started in this snow.”

  “If we don’t, we’re going to freeze to death. The sun’s going to be going down soon.”

  “You don’t sound worried about it. And why the hell are you smiling? You just said we might die.”

  “I’m just along for the ride,” said Marshal, cryptically.

  12

  Mandy

  Mandy couldn’t feel her feet or her hands.

  Max was in worse shape. And it wasn’t a surprise. He was wearing the same jacket he’d been wearing all along. It wasn’t designed for cold weather, and it was amazing he’d made it this far with the jacket.

  Now he was paying the price.

  Mandy didn’t know if they’d make it back to camp before he froze to death.

  “You’ve got to take my jacket, Max. Just for a little while.”

  Max shook his head.

  “It’s no longer a matter of being noble or whatever it is. You’re being stubborn, and it’s going to get you killed.”

  “I recognize that tree,” said Max, through chattering teeth. “We’re close by.”

  “And what if we’re not? What if it’s like the last three trees that I thought I recognized?”

  “We’ll have to make a fire,” said Max. “It’ll get us through the night.”

  Mandy wasn’t so sure about that. For one thing, she didn’t know if they’d be able to start a fire in the snow.

  Maybe Max was right. Maybe this was time they finally found the camp. They’d been walking in circles for hours. Actual circles, not just that feeling when you’re lost and you think you’re walking in circles. They’d been intentionally walking in circles, hoping that they were close to the camp, and that they’d eventually stumble onto it.

  For all Mandy knew, they could have passed twenty feet from the camp. They never would have known it.

  Mandy trusted Max. He knew his limits. He was almost obscenely practical, even to the determinant of his own safety sometimes. But he’d always considered the safety of others. Especially Mandy. He’d never intentionally let his own stubbornness endanger her or the others.

  But was Max fully aware of what he was doing? Had the cold affected him too much? Could she trust Max now? Was his judgment compromised?

  Just when Mandy was thinking she might have to make some hard decisions, she saw something.

  It was the unmistakable glowing light of a fire. It was roaring, a beacon of hope in the bitter harsh cold.

  “Max,” said Mandy, tugging on his arm. “Look!”

  “Fire,” muttered Max. “Fire…”

  “Come on!”

  “Could be a trap,” said Max. He was starting to slur his words.

  A figure appeared. Mandy didn’t immediately recognize the silhouette.

  Was Max right? Was it a trap?

  The silhouette extended its arm. The light was lower now, and visibility was worse than ever. The snow hadn’t let up at all.

  At the end of the silhouette’s arm, there was the unmistakable outline of a handgun, backlit by the fire’s flickering flames.

  Someone shouted something.

  Mandy raised her own gun.

  She glanced at Max.

  He had his gun raised too. But his hand was shaking badly. The cold was getting to him.

  Was it possible they’d stumbled onto someone else’s camp?

  Then Mandy heard a familiar voice.

  Georgia’s. She was calling Mandy’s name. And Max’s.

  The rest was a blur. Mandy remembered being taken by the fire to warm up, Max along with her. Blankets were draped over them. Someone took off Mandy’s socks and examined her feet, checking for frostbite. Someone was doing the same for Max’s.

  As the minutes rolled by, Mandy was starting to warm up.

  “What’s the situation?” said Max.

  “Just focus on warming up,” said John, handing Mandy and Max each steaming cups of coffee.

  “I’m fine,” said Max. “But the enemy’s out there. We can’t let our guard down just because we’re cold.”

  “No,” said John. “We can’t.”

  It was strange hearing the two of them talking. They had similar voices. It wasn’t just their accents. It was something about their cadences, and the way they emphasized certain words. The main difference between their voices was that Max’s was a little deeper, a little more serious. John, on the other hand, sounded by comparison, at least, almost a little less severe.

  “We’ve got three people officially on watch,” said John. “But in reality, we’re all o
n watch.”

  “This fire is going to just be announcing our presence,” said Max.

  “They already know where we are,” said John. He started explaining what had happened, telling the story of the encounter he, James, and Cynthia had earlier.

  “That doesn’t make sense,” said Max. “The guy we talked to from the compound said he was the scouting party. And you’re saying there are how many men here?” Max briefly explained what had happened when he and Mandy had been out looking for the man who James had spotted yesterday.

  “We don’t know,” said John. “But there are a lot.”

  “Maybe we should leave,” said Mandy. The coffee was already making her feel warmer, and giving her that mental resilience that only caffeine could provide. “They know we’re here. Did you stay here just because we were still out?”

  John didn’t answer.

  “We can’t leave,” said Max. “Not with this snow. We won’t make it.”

  “Are you sure?” said Mandy.

  “It’s time we made a stand,” said Max. “We’re not going to find anywhere better than here to live. If we can prove we can defend it, it’ll be ours for the long haul.”

  “There are other places with deer,” said Mandy. “Other places to find food.”

  “It’s just rolling the dice,” said Max. “And so far, every new place we’ve found has been worse than the last.”

  “That’s not true. If we’d stayed at the farmhouse, we’d be dead by now.”

  “You know what I mean,” said Max, standing up.

  “Come on, Max,” said John, moving over to his brother. “Stay by the fire. You’ve got to rest and warm up.”

  Max shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said. “I’m plenty warm now. Now, let’s see what you’ve got going for the defenses. The sun’s almost down, and they’ll probably attack after nightfall. We might not have very long.”

  “Georgia’s figured everything out,” said John.

  “Where is she?”

  “On the other side of the van.”

  The fire that Mandy sat near was up close against Jake and Rose’s van. The van seemed to make the heat of the fire feel warmer, probably by reflecting the heat back towards her. Mandy made a mental note of that, in case it would be useful in the future. But then she realized they’d done it on purpose. Obviously she wasn’t the first to take note of that useful trick.

 

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