Desperate Times

by Nicholas Antinozzi

  And then Jimmy thought of Paula and Julie. Had they been together all afternoon? He was pretty sure of it. They’d want to keep their hostages together. What would they have said to each other? Jimmy found that he didn’t want to think about that.

  He then began to think of Sister Margaret. How had she been able to turn everyone against them in such a short amount of time? Could they really all believe everything that she was telling them? Jimmy didn’t think so. He was sure that some of her followers had some questions of their own. They were following the herd, but their herd was going to run out of oats, and soon. Once they had Paula, Julie, and Dr. Benson, safely out of the compound, they could wait them out. Jimmy knew he’d been right about that. Their empty stomachs would open their eyes. They’d see Sister Margaret for who she was. Bill might even be among the first to do so. As far as Jimmy knew, Bill had never missed a meal. His belly would start talking long before any of the others. Jimmy was sure of that.

  Jimmy nearly jumped at the sound of the first shot. It echoed through the trees and was immediately followed by an explosion of others. Jon reached behind him and held Jimmy back. They had to give them two minutes to try and draw everyone to the front of the compound. Jimmy held his breath and began to pray. He knew that he and Jon might both be dead the minute they climbed over the wall. That was one risk he was more than willing to take.

  After what seemed like an eternity, Jon reached down and picked up the ladder. He carefully leaned it next to the wall. The battle was raging now. There was shouting and the constant sound of gunshots. Jon began to climb. Jimmy reached down and leaned the other ladder next to Jon’s. He was going to have to hand it up to Jon when he reached the top. Jon would set it down on the other side and switch ladders at the top of the wall and climb down. Jimmy would follow.

  And then, if they weren’t shot, they’d storm the house and find the others.

  Thirty

  Empirical evidence fails to show that sexual orientation is germane to any aspect of military effectiveness including unit cohesion, morale, recruitment and retention.

  Jon climbed to the top, turned his head from side to side and heaved up on the aluminum ladder that Jimmy held up to him. Quietly he slid it over the other side, and transferring his weight to the other ladder, he quickly descended the rungs. Jimmy followed, steady gunfire ringing in his ears.

  Jon waited at the bottom, holding his handgun at the ready. When Jimmy reached the bottom rung, Jon sprinted along side of the house. Jimmy followed; they paused at the wooden steps leading up to the deck and the front door that opened into the porch. This was where they hoped to find the others. Jimmy looked down at the wall where it seemed to be crawling with shooters, all of them, firing wildly down toward the lake. This was exactly what they’d hoped would happen. Now, Jimmy thought, as long as the others were keeping their heads down they should be okay, barring a one-in-a-million shot.

  Jon was already at the door, and Jimmy couldn’t believe how fast he’d moved. He gave Jimmy an impatient look and waved him up. Jimmy moved up the stairs, and Jon slowly opened the door. Jon sprinted inside; Jimmy took a deep breath and followed.

  “Down on the ground,” hissed Jon, pointing his gun into a man’s face. The man dropped his gun and did as he’d been told, spreading his arms.

  Jimmy didn’t recognize the man, but he did recognize the three faces sitting on the couch in the shadows. Jon had been right; they were all there. Jimmy heard a thud and returned his attention to Jon. He’d just struck the stranger in the back of the head with the butt of his gun. From the sound of it, the man was going to be out for a very long time, thought Jimmy.

  “Let’s go,” whispered Jimmy. “Move it!”

  They didn’t have to be asked twice.

  “Not a word,” whispered Jon. “Not a word until we’re safely back at the truck, okay?”

  The three of them nodded, understanding Jon perfectly.

  Jon was out the door, holding it open as everyone followed. He then quietly closed the door behind them. He met them at the bottom of the stairs where they waited in the shadows. Once again Jon took the lead, running alongside the house. He paused at the back and strained his eyes to see if anyone was waiting for them. He waved for the others to follow.

  Jimmy couldn’t believe their luck. They ran to the wall, passing the empty shed to where their ladder was still standing and waiting for them. Paula was the first to climb the ladder, transferring across to the other as if she’d trained for it. She was quickly out of sight. Julie gave Jimmy a quick kiss on his cheek then scrambled up the side of the wall. She took a few precious seconds at the top, balancing precariously before she grasped the other ladder and swung her legs over the side.

  Dr. Benson paused, waving Jimmy forward, but Jimmy pointed at him firmly and then at the ladder. Wordlessly, Dr. Benson began to climb, the aluminum ladder groaning under his weight. Jimmy cringed, waiting for someone to start firing at them. This was too easy; something had to go wrong. Something always seemed to go wrong. He watched Dr. Benson swing himself onto the other ladder. This time the groan was more of an agonized scream as the ladder’s capacity was seriously tested. Dr. Benson soon disappeared behind the wall.

  The gunfire from the front of the house hadn’t let up. Jimmy could hear the crackling shots from rifles mixed together with the booming reports of shotgun blasts. Jon pointed to him.

  Jimmy shook his head and pointed his finger back at Jon.

  “Halt!” screamed a woman’s voice, and they were suddenly bathed in the yellow beam of a flashlight. Jon shoved Jimmy hard, and Jimmy began to climb as fast as he could. Jon followed and the ladder wobbled violently beneath their combined weight.

  “Stop! Both of you! I’ll shoot!”

  Jimmy climbed over the top of the wall and grabbed the other ladder. His hands were sweating, his heart racing, and he slipped. “Oof!” he grunted. Somehow he’d become wedged in between the tops of two of the logs. Jon pulled back on him with a savage tug. Jimmy cursed. The flashlight beam illuminating their precarious position.

  “Come on!” called Jon. “Move it!”

  “Hey! There are two of them on the wall! I need some help over here!”

  Jimmy heaved up with all his strength and was suddenly free. He gripped the other ladder and scrambled over the top of the wall. He squinted in the beam of yellow light. The woman was now almost right behind Jon. Jimmy wondered if she just didn’t want to shoot or thought that perhaps she didn’t have a gun at all.

  “Freeze!” screamed the woman. Jimmy heard the click of hardened steel.

  “Jon!” Jimmy called, expelling all of the air in his lungs.

  Jon was at the top of the wall, and Jimmy could feel Jon’s weight transfer to the ladder he held.

  Suddenly two thunderous gunshots exploded into the night air.

  Jon was thrown violently forward, and Jimmy watched in horror as he seemed to catapult over the wall and disappear into the blackness. Jon’s body fell with a heavy thud at Jimmy’s feet.

  “No!” Jimmy screamed and dropped to one knee, checking his friend for wounds.

  “Out of the way!” shouted Dr. Benson. “I’ve got him!” He hefted Jon over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry as if he were young child. “We’ve got to move, Jimmy!”

  Jimmy nodded; they did have to move. He could hear someone scaling the wall from the other side. He forced himself to his feet and waved for the others to follow. Gunfire exploded from behind them, bullets slapping into the earth. They continued to run, staying close to the wall. Jimmy found his wind and took the lead. They sprinted past the wall and into the darkness of the woods. He stole a look behind him; the others stayed close. Even Dr. Benson, carrying Jon, was keeping stride with the rest of them. Jimmy slowed to a jog and continued at that pace until he came across the ATV trail. He somehow found the strength to run again. They had to get Jon to the truck. They needed to find out how bad he’d been hit, and Dr. Benson was going to need to fix him up with the
supplies from the truck if Jon was even still alive.

  Jimmy pushed that out of his mind. He could now see the clearing up ahead and continued to run. He reached the clearing and turned toward the Mack without missing a step. His lungs burned. He nearly tripped in a depression, but he regained his balance and continued to run. He reached the driver’s door and flung it open. He hopped up into the driver’s seat and found the headlight switch. He flipped it on and watched as the others stopped at the front of the truck. Dr. Benson gently laid Jon’s body down on the ground. Jimmy jumped out and jogged over to join them.

  Jimmy stood behind Dr. Benson as he examined Jon. Jimmy realized that the gunfire had stopped. The others should be back soon.

  “Where’s he hit?” asked Jimmy breathlessly.

  “I’m not sure…” said the Doctor, who was also trying to catch his breath. He rolled Jon onto his stomach, and Jimmy wanted to cry. Jon’s back was covered in blood. “Oh, my,” said Dr. Benson. “This isn’t good. I’m going to need my kit. He’s been hit at least twice. I’ve got to go back; his life depends on it.”

  “We stopped at the hospital today!” said Jimmy. “We grabbed a bunch of stuff. It’s all in the back of the truck. What do you need?”

  “Let’s see what you have. I don’t know Jimmy. This looks pretty bad.”

  Jimmy and Dr. Benson raced around to the back of the truck. Paula and Julie followed. Jon began to groan. Jimmy opened the latch and heaved up on the door. He aimed the flashlight beam inside and stood back to give Dr. Benson some room.

  Dr. Benson began to tear into the boxes, discarding them as he frantically searched through them. “This is no good,” he said. “We don’t need this… no… Dear God, this is all useless… Damn it!”

  Jimmy cringed; surely they’d brought something he could use, there was so much of it.

  “There!” shouted Dr. Benson. “That’s what we need!” He then reached up over the top of the boxes and removed a large black satchel. “Now let’s pray they didn’t hit any vital organs. If they did, there’s not much hope. I’m sorry—there’s only so much I can do outside of an operating room. Okay, let’s go!”

  Dr. Benson set the bag down next to Jon and opened it up. He produced a bottle of alcohol. He opened the bottle and splashed the strong-smelling liquid into his hands, scrubbing them together vigorously. Satisfied, he handed the bottle to Jimmy. “Everyone, do the same. I’m going to need your help. Go easy on that stuff; we’re going to need it later.”

  Jimmy dumped some of the alcohol on his hands. It seeped into the small cuts he’d gotten from the thorns, and his hands felt as if they were on fire. He handed the bottle to Julie, and she did the same. She turned and handed the bottle to Paula, but she shook her head.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” she said. “I can’t do this. I’m so sorry.” She then ran around the side of the truck and began to wretch.

  “Are you two okay?” asked Dr. Benson. “I’m going to need you both. This is going to be messy.”

  “I’m fine,” said Julie. Her voice seemed strong, and her eyes glowed in the headlamps.

  “I’m good,” said Jimmy. “Let’s do this.”

  Dr. Benson tore open Jon’s shirt and frowned. “Julie, in the bag there grab me some cotton gauze,” he asked. “I’m going to need quite a bit of it, and we’ve got to get him cleaned up and see how serious these wounds are. Jimmy, grab that flashlight. I’m going to need you to hold it for me. Keep it trained directly on the wounds. Do you understand me?”

  Jimmy nodded and picked up the long black flashlight and pressed the rubber button. The flashlight beam glowed brightly. Jimmy stood over Dr. Benson and shone the beam over his shoulder and onto Jon’s bloody back. Jimmy cringed. The blood looked nearly black.

  Julie quickly found the package she was looking for and tore it open, unrolled nearly two feet of gauze and tore it free. Dr. Benson took it from her, balled it up and soaked it in the alcohol. He then began to rub it softly over Jon’s back. Jon suddenly flinched, kicked his legs and dug his hands into the ground.

  “That’s a good sign,” said Dr. Benson. “There, there now,” he said. “Let’s see what we have here… Good news. That one looks to have just grazed your side. Nothing to worry about, I’ve treated dozens of wounds like that. Now let’s find the other…”

  Jimmy held his breath, and he and Julie exchanged anxious looks. Dr. Benson swabbed at a spot closer to Jon’s lower back and paused. His expression was suddenly grim. Jimmy trained the flashlight on that spot and groaned. He could see an ugly hole on the other side of his back. Dark blood poured from the wound, and Jon began to scream in pain.

  “Oh, my,” said Dr. Benson, reaching underneath and feeling under Jon’s belly. “This is more serious than I feared. No exit wound. Let’s hope this didn’t hit his kidney. Can you hear me, Jon? This is going to hurt. I’m going to have to remove that bullet. Can you hear me?”

  Jon groaned again. “I can,” he managed. “Hurts…”

  “I’m sure it does, my friend. You’re going to have to be strong, all right? This is going to be very painful. There’s nothing we can do for that now. After I’ve got this bullet out, I’ll see what I can find to help you rest. Do you understand me?”

  Jon nodded once, his fingers clutching at the ground.

  Dr. Benson reached over and picked up the bag. He then began to hand things to Jimmy and Julie. He explained what each instrument was and told them to hand them to him as soon as he asked. Again he asked them if they understood. They both nodded.

  Dr. Benson leaned over Jon and began to operate.

  Jon screamed in pain.

  “Hang in there, man!” Julie coaxed. “You’re going to be all right.”

  “Right,” replied Jimmy. “You’ll be up and around in no time.”

  “Oh, shit!” screamed Jon in agony.

  “There, there,” said Dr. Benson in his soothing voice. “Almost got it, now… I can feel it.”

  “Uff!” moaned Jon. “Oh, God, that hurts! Stop! Please stop!”

  “There it is… Jimmy, keep that damn light still! Almost got it; there now. Steady…”

  “You can do it, honey,” called Julie. “Hang in there; we’re nearly finished… Come on, just a little farther to go.”

  “Got it!” exclaimed Dr. Benson, as he removed the slug from Jon’s back.

  “Oh, God… Oh, man… Oh, shit!” muttered Jon.

  Jimmy couldn’t believe the change in Jon. His skin color was nearly as white as fresh-fallen snow. His eyes looked glossy as if they’d lost their twinkle. Jon continued to breathe, taking shallow panting breaths.

  Dr. Benson began to pack the wound with gauze and was soon taping the gauze with surgical tape. He finished up with a look up to Jimmy. The look he gave him was anything but confident. Dr. Benson stood, took the flashlight from Jimmy and flicked it off.

  Julie sat down next to Jon in the headlamp beams of the truck and ran her fingers through his short blonde hair. “We did it, baby. You’re going to be all right now. Doc Benson got the bullet. Isn’t that great news?”

  Jimmy looked hard at Dr. Benson. To his horror, he could see tears running down his cheeks and onto his beard. Dr. Benson shook his head and held his hands over his face. He stood there for a long second before slowly walking away into the shadows.

  Jimmy swallowed hard, gathered his courage and sat down next to Julie. “You’re going to be fine, man,” he lied. You’ve got to hang in there, okay?”

  Jon managed to smile. “Jimmy? Is that you?”

  “I’m right here, man.” Jimmy took his hand in his own, it felt cool to the touch. “I’m here.”

  “You guys are the best friends… I’ve ever had,” stammered Jon. “I love you guys.”

  “We love you, too,” cried Julie. “You’ve got to keep quiet, baby. You’re going to need to save your strength.”

  “Jimmy… Jimmy?”

  “I’m here, buddy,” said Jimmy, squeezing Jon’s limp hand. �
�Hang in there.”

  “We had some times… Didn’t we?” Jon asked in a faltering voice.

  “We did,” Jimmy moaned. “You’re going to pull through this, Jon. Hang in there.”

  “Be good to her, Jimmy. Be good to her…”

  “I will, Jon. I promise I will…”

  Jon looked into Julie’s eyes and somehow managed a wink. He then looked to Jimmy, smiled, and his head lolled to the right.

  “Dr. Benson!” screamed Julie.

  “Oh, no!” cried Jimmy. “Jon, come on, man! Jon!”

  Jon was already gone. His journey on this earth had just ended.

  Thirty -One

  Executive Order 13010: Directs FEMA to take total control over all government agencies during what has been deemed to be a National Emergency.

  Anguish rushed over Jimmy in a tidal wave of emotion. He felt as if his soul had returned to the day he’d learned about his own family tragedy. Jon’s death brought everything back to the surface. He and Julie sat next to Jon’s lifeless body for a long while, holding each other while they cried for their fallen hero. Paula stayed in the cab of the truck, Jimmy didn’t know if it was because she was sleeping or if she was just giving him the space he needed. Nearly half an hour passed before Jimmy found the strength to stand. They covered Jon with a blanket.

  Dr. Benson sat on the back of the truck looking up at the stars. He hugged them both; he too, was crying. Jon’s passing had deeply touched all three of them.

  “Doc, I’m going to need that flashlight,” said Jimmy, after he’d regained his composure.

  “What are you going to do, Jimmy?” asked Julie, drying her eyes. “You can’t go back there. I won’t let you.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m just going to take a short walk. There’s something I’ve got to get.”

  “Julie’s right, Jimmy; you should stay here. We’ve got to wait for the others.”

  “I can’t do that, Doc. I’ve got to get a shovel. I know a place not too far from here. I’ll be back before you know it. You guys need to do me a favor. You’ve got to take Paula and get away from the truck. Get far enough away so they won’t find you in case they decided to follow us,” Jimmy pointed to a small stand of birch fifty yards from the truck. “Wait there; that way you can watch for the others. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”