Desperate Times

by Nicholas Antinozzi

  “What about… you know? How you felt about men?”

  “Don’t ask, don’t tell. I never told a soul. I didn’t just join the Army; I wanted to be the best soldier in it. My dad had taught me to fire a weapon, and I was already a crack shot. I hit the weight room and got myself built up. When the other guys went into town, I stayed behind. I wanted to know everything there was to know about being a soldier. I studied every book and manual that I could get my hands on. I got promoted quickly. One day my CO sent an MP down to fetch me to his office. I didn’t know what to expect. He sat me down and asked me what I knew about the Green Berets and Special Forces. Of course I knew all about them. I dreamed about becoming part of that group. The next day I was on a plane.

  “Impressive, said Jimmy, who could now see the driveway on the horizon.

  “Thanks. I put in a lot of hard work to get there, but I still had to prove myself. Not many guys have what it takes to make it. I gave it all that I had and somehow, I got in. We trained for months in some of the worst conditions that you can imagine. Then we were flown into Iraq.”

  “Nice,” said Jimmy.

  “I thought so. That was what I had trained for. We did a lot of street-to-street, house-to-house fighting. I saw a lot of action. I was in a Hummer when we hit a roadside bomb. I was the only one to survive. Somehow I was thrown clear and only broke my arm and caught some minor shrapnel. I got a Purple Heart for that. I recovered in a hospital in Germany. I wanted to get back and repay those bastards for what they’d done to my buddies. Three months later, I was back in the shit. I did three tours over there. I took home a lot of medals. I gave them to my mom. She hung them in a case on the mantle, right next to my old man’s flag.

  Jimmy stopped at the driveway and took out a cigarette. “How did you end up in Crown?” he asked, lighting the cigarette.

  Jon laughed, walking next to Jimmy down the rutted driveway. “My mom lived there. I’d spent eight years in the Army and knew it was time to get out. I had no where else to go, so I moved in with her. I’d saved a pile of money, and there she was, struggling to get by on my old man’s military pension. I wanted to do something completely different, and I enrolled in a cosmetology school in Minneapolis. Now there’s a place where a gay guy can be a gay guy. Those were great times. I met a lot of people. I had just graduated from the beauty academy when my mom up and died of a heart attack. We buried her, and I was stuck with the house. My sister wanted nothing to do with any of it. She had a family of her own, and they were living in Seattle. Well, money was starting to get tight and I took a job at the Cut ‘n Curl in town. I’m still there. I love my job. I run down to Minneapolis on the weekends and hang out with my friends, then I come back home. I’ve got a pretty good life.”

  “You had a pretty good life,” corrected Jimmy as they walked up to the truck.

  “No, you’re wrong, Jimmy. “I’m going back to that life. That’s what keeps me going. Don’t you ever try to tell me that I’m not. We’re all going back someday. You’ll see. We’ll rebuild, maybe move around a little, but we’re all going back to what we left behind. I’ll fight for that right. I’m not getting chucked into any relocation camp, not while I can still hold a gun. And I’m not letting scum like those bikers do whatever the hell they want. I’m going to make them pay for their crimes.” Jon paused, choosing his words. “Listen. I know you didn’t have the stomach for what had to be done. That’s fine. I don’t care. I did have the stomach for it, and so did Burt. If we had let any of those guys go, they’d be coming after us in a heartbeat. They’d kill again. Maybe they’d find us and kill some of our own people. We’re not risking that. We’ve got to become the judges, juries, and the executioners, if necessary. Think about it.”

  Jon hopped up into the passenger side and closed the door behind him. Jimmy walked around the front of the truck, careful to avoid some bees that were buzzing around the grill. He climbed in and started the engine. “I understand,” he said. “You guys did what you had to do. I just couldn’t do it myself.”

  “No problem,” said Jon. “We don’t need to talk about that anymore. When we get back to camp, don’t tell anybody about what happened there at the end, all right?”

  “I won’t,” said Jimmy, slapping the gearshift into second and easing his foot off the clutch. “I’ll never talk about that again. It never happened.”

  “Right,” said Jon.

  “Hey,” said Jimmy as they rumbled down the driveway. “Thanks.”

  “Thanks for what?”

  “Thanks for telling me your story. Friends should know something about each other. My life sure has been an open book.”

  Jon smiled. “No problem,” he said. “You, my friend, have to start writing another chapter, and you have to do it soon.”

  “Hey, that subject is off limits, remember?”

  “All right, sorry, man. You’d better choose Julie, though. She’s awesome!”

  “Jon!”

  Jon laughed, and soon Jimmy joined him. Jon was right about that—he was going to have to make his choice soon. He wheeled the truck onto the asphalt and headed up the hill toward town. The sun was just starting to dip below the trees, and the highway was covered in warm shadows. Jimmy coaxed the truck into town at an even thirty miles per hour. He had no idea why he was obeying the speed limit. They certainly weren’t going to run into any cops.

  Burt sat on a bench on the far side of the park, and he wasn’t alone. Next to him were two men and a woman. Jimmy averted his eyes from the park, concentrating on Burt and the road ahead. He pulled the truck to the curb and killed the engine. He and Jon jumped out of the truck and joined the others at the bench.

  Burt stood up. “Guys, I’d like to introduce you to the Hills. This is Alex and his brother Joe, and Joe’s wife, Amanda. This is Jimmy and Jon. I think you’ve met Jon.”

  They exchanged somber greetings and Burt continued. “They’re coming back to the camp with us.”

  “No problem,” said Jimmy.

  “I didn’t think there’d be,” said Burt, walking to the back of the truck and throwing open the roll-up door. “Let’s get those guns. Come on, people. We’ve got work to do.”

  Burt nodded behind Jimmy, and Jimmy turned his head to see what looked like a small arsenal laid out on the grass. They began grabbing handfuls of guns and ammunition. They handed them up to the big man, and Burt stowed them away. When they’d finished, Burt picked up his M-16 and sat down on the back of the truck.

  “Alex,” Burt said. “You ride up front with Jimmy. Everyone else hop on. Alex has a little surprise for us. Don’t tell these guys. They’ll find out soon enough.”

  Jimmy and Jon exchanged looks of confusion. Burt merely smiled.

  With Alex pointing the way, Jimmy rumbled through the narrow streets of Ely. He carefully avoided looking too closely at anything, concentrating on Alex’s directions and the road. He drove slowly, mindful of how rough the ride on the back of the truck would be. Alex pointed to the front of a long group of stores. Jimmy stopped the truck. Most of the buildings appeared to have been looted, their windows smashed into pieces, fallen goodies lying in the broken glass. Burt met them on the sidewalk and leaned over and picked up a candy bar. He brushed off the wrapper and tore it open.

  “Do you know what this is?” Burt asked, taking a bite from the candy bar. “This is Hills Brothers Meats.”

  Jimmy looked up and saw the bullet riddled sign over the door. Sure enough, that’s what it read.

  “The power has been off for a while now, but the freezer is closed, and nothing has thawed,” said Alex Hill. “We’re going to need some boxes or coolers.”

  Burt smacked his lips. “Let’s move,” he said. “Think of it, boys, T-bone steaks, rib-eyes, filet mignon, six different kinds of beef jerky. Mmm… how does that sound?”

  “That sounds great,” said Jon, smiling. “Let’s load up.”

  “Amanda and I are going to head over to Chuck’s Grocery,” said Joe Hill. “I ho
pe that it’s not completely empty.”

  “Check it out,” said Alex. “Be back here in ten minutes, okay?”

  Joe nodded, and he and Amanda turned and walked down the sidewalk, their shoes crunching on the broken glass. They held hands as they walked away.

  The others followed Alex down into the basement of the building which appeared to have escaped any of the looting or vandalism. They walked between long rows of stainless steel shelving; some were empty, but some still contained cases of soups and spices and other items they sold at the butcher shop. Alex opened the large door of the walk-in freezer. A waft of cold air greeted them. Jimmy smiled. The freezer looked to be nearly full. They rummaged the basement and began to box up everything that they could carry. Alex left them, coming back with two good-sized plastic coolers.

  “There’s more,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

  They made countless trips up and down the stairs, loading the back of the truck with the frozen meat. Alex brought back eight coolers of various sizes, and what they couldn’t fit in there or the boxes, they packed into trash bags. They continued working at a frenzied pace until all of the work was done. Joe and Amanda walked up, as promised, just as Alex hauled out the last case of soup.

  “There wasn’t much,” said Joe. “But we’ve got some good stuff boxed up outside of Chuck’s Market. Let’s go get it.”

  Jimmy drove the Mack the two blocks to the little grocery store. There he spotted several cardboard boxes stacked next to the open doors. He backed the truck up to the boxes; he and Alex stayed inside the cab while Jon and the others loaded them into the back of the truck.

  “Okay,” said Burt, slapping the side of the truck. “Let’s go.”

  Jimmy nodded in his mirror, watching Burt disappear behind the truck. The cab rocked slightly as Burt found his spot on the back of the truck. “What’s the quickest way to the hospital from here?” he asked Alex.

  “That way,” Alex replied. “Four blocks and take a right. We’ll run right into it. Why do we have to stop there?”

  “Didn’t Burt tell you? Dr. Benson is at our place. I think we’d better go do a little shopping for him.”

  “Dr. Benson is there? That’s great,” said Alex. “But have you seen the hospital? It’s pretty bad.”

  “I’ve been there; so has Jon. We know where to go.”

  The stench inside the hospital was nearly unbearable. Amanda walked inside, held her hand over her mouth and quickly retreated to the truck. Joe shook his head. Jimmy motioned the others forward, leading the way and they arrived at the door where Dr. Benson had entered for his supplies. The blue lights were fading, but they still provided enough light to see down the darkened hallway. Jimmy tried the handle to the door; it was locked.

  “Shit,” said Jimmy. “I thought he left it open.”

  “Stand back,” said Burt. “I’ll open it up.” He removed his revolver and fired three shots into the lock. The third shot struck home, and the door opened an inch. The shots were deafening, but the smell of gunpowder was welcomed. Burt pushed open the door, and Jimmy was relieved to see that it was just as they’d left it.

  “Grab that stretcher,” Burt said to Jon, pointing at a collapsed stretcher that stood in the far corner. “We’ll use that to haul this stuff out of here. What are we taking, anyhow?”

  “All of it,” said Jimmy. “We’re taking all of it.”

  Burt whistled. “Are you serious?” he asked. “There’s a lot of stuff in here.”

  “I know,” said Jimmy. “So we’d better get to it.”

  They were all exhausted by the time they’d finished. They hadn’t been able to take everything; there simply wasn’t room. They filled out the remaining cargo room with whatever they could fit inside. Jimmy knew Dr. Benson was going to be a very happy man.

  “Where are we all supposed to ride?” asked Burt.

  “I don’t know,” said Alex. “I think the bikers shot up pretty much every working vehicle in town. That’s the first thing that they did. I know they ruined my Blazer.”

  “Our Saturn is toast,” said Amanda.

  “How many of you can ride a motorcycle?” Burt asked with a gleam in his eye.

  “I can,” said Jon.

  “Me, too,” said Alex.

  “I know how to ride,” said Jimmy, “but I’ve got to drive the truck.”

  “I can drive the truck,” said Joe. “Amanda and I will follow you.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Jimmy. “That’s a nine-speed in there. Can you drive one of those?

  “Piece of cake,” answered Joe. “We’ll meet you over at the park.”

  “Are you riding with them?” Jimmy asked Burt, who hadn’t said a word.

  “Are you kidding? I’ve been riding Harleys all my life. Most of the brothers are into Cadillacs. Me? I’m a Harley guy. I’ve got three at home in the garage. Come on; let’s go find us some bikes.”

  They walked back to the park directly to where the motorcycles stood at the curb. They stood gleaming in the last of the twilight with most still having the keys in the ignitions. Burt eyed a shiny, black Fat Boy, a big bike that fit him perfectly. Burt threw his leg over the bike and turned the key. “Full of gas,” he said. “This one’s mine!”

  Jon stopped in front of a chopped Soft Tail that was completely covered in chrome. He checked the tank and said with a childish grin, “I’m Easy Rider, boys. This one’s full too.”

  Alex sat on the first bike he came to, a nineties model Low Rider. He checked the tank and gave everyone the thumbs up.

  Jimmy was doing something that he’d always dreamed of doing. He was Harley shopping. He jogged up the line of parked motorcycles as if they were on a showroom floor. He couldn’t decide.

  “Come on!” shouted Burt.

  And suddenly Jimmy stopped. There was the Harley he had been dreaming of; he knew it the moment he laid eyes on it. He prayed that it had some gas in the tank. He nervously bent over and switched on the ignition. The needle shot to full. The bike was a new Ultra Glide Classic, a top-of-the-line Harley Davidson with all the bells and whistles. The bike had been customized and sported orange flames over a glossy black tank. Jimmy admired the impressive-looking sound system. The back held a pair of saddle bags and a small trunk. The flames had been done by a serious artist, and the Harley really looked as if it were on fire. Jimmy smiled then jumped on and thumbed the starter. The engine purred. He turned on the stereo. Whoever had previously owned the bike had left an Eagles CD in the player, Hotel California. Jimmy rolled away from the curb, the title song turned up as high as it would play. The others followed.

  Jimmy felt better than he had in days. The wind in his hair felt wonderful, and he sang along with Don Henley as they left Ely in their taillights. Burt roared past, pumping his big left fist into the air. Jimmy smiled. Jon followed Burt, cracking the throttle and drowning out Jimmy’s music in a deafening roar. He let them pass, and Alex rode up next to him. He sang along with Jimmy, his voice lost in the wind. Joe and Amanda followed in the truck.

  Jimmy blocked out what had happened in the park. What mattered was that they’d done what they’d set out to do. He couldn’t help but to crack the throttle every now and then. Alex kept pace, and Jimmy could actually hear him as he sang along. Their headlights cut into the night air, Burt and Jon’s taillights glowing a quarter mile ahead of them. Jimmy couldn’t wait to get back. He was hungry and tired, but mostly he was anxious to open up the back of the truck for everyone to see.

  They covered the miles quickly, passing nothing but the trees on the lonely stretch of highway. Jimmy laughed as he remembered walking those miles. He was now riding over them in style. The powerful motorcycle handled like a dream. Up ahead, brake lights flashed. They’d reached the gravel road. Jimmy turned off the CD, and he and Alex putted down the gravel behind Burt and Jon. Jimmy thought about Paula and Julie and wondered how he’d decide between the two. They rounded the corner, and Burt goosed the throttle on the Fat Boy and fishtailed i
n the loose sand.

  And suddenly all hell broke loose.

  Up ahead, distinctive orange flashes glowed like spewing fire. Somebody was shooting at them. Jimmy dumped his Harley onto the gravel road and scrambled back around the corner, frantically waving at Joe to stop the truck. Joe slammed on the brakes.

  From the headlights of the Mack, he spotted what none of them had remembered to look for. There was a white towel hanging from the branch.

  “Oh, shit,” said Jimmy.

  Twenty -Eight

  What do you actually know about the Federal Emergency Management Agency? What you find out may shock you. The Agency has sweeping powers, even the muscle to suspend the Constitution of the United States.

  Jimmy was at the passenger side of the Mack and flung open the door. Amanda instantly knew what he wanted, and she handed him one of the M-16’s.

  “Back up,” Jimmy said. “About a mile back, you’ll see a little driveway on your right. Pull in there and shut it down.”

  “What happened?” asked Joe, his face looking pale in the instrument lights.

  “I’m not sure,” said Jimmy. “No time to talk. Just get this thing moving now. I’ll come back with the others. Go!”

  Jimmy turned and ran back to the corner, the Mack howling at high speed in reverse. He checked the lever and switched the rifle to full auto. If anything had happened to Jon, Burt, or even Alex, Jimmy was going to make somebody pay for it. His blood was pounding at his temples. Sister Margaret, he thought, bitterly. She’d turned everyone against them. Jimmy ran blindly around the corner and saw the jumbled pile of motorcycles, chrome gleaming in the starlight.

  “Jimmy!” shouted Jon’s familiar voice. “In here!”

  Jimmy ran, following Jon’s voice into the blackness, tripping over a bush and falling headlong into the pines.

  “Are you hit?” asked Burt, who grabbed him under the arms and pulled him another five feet into the woods.

  “No,” wheezed Jimmy. “What about you guys? Is Alex with you?”