by A. American
The men finished their smokes and went back inside. Thad lowered the glasses and sat there thinking. All he knew was where the guy was today. If he left, he wouldn’t have any idea where he went tomorrow. It was late in the day, and Thad decided he would stay there for the night to see where the mailman headed in the morning. He had no sleeping bag, but he had enough hate running through him to keep him warm no matter how cold it got.
Thad pulled the pack down, pulled out an MRE and ate it cold. The sun started to drop and he hadn’t seen anyone come back out, so he knew the man was still in there. Thad watched as the security on the barricade changed, a new crew coming out to relieve the ones on duty. Those being relieved went into the building. They must be staying in there, Thad thought. That’s good.
Thad pulled the pack over, made a sort of pillow out of it and leaned back to try and get some rest. He had just closed his eyes when a bright light caused him to open them again. There was one of those diesel-powered light towers in the parking lot lighting up the area. He hadn’t noticed it before, and couldn’t imagine how he hadn’t seen it. It lit the surrounding area up with a bright white light. He was sitting under and behind the oak trees, and his spot didn’t light up too much. He spent the rest of the night listening to the hum of the diesel engine. He slept little.
At six in the morning, he was pissing on the back side of the big oak when the light tower shut down. He looked up and saw a few people out in the parking lot. He picked up the binos and again started to watch the mail truck. He alternated between it and the front door, just waiting for the son of a bitch to come out. He didn’t have to wait long. Around seven thirty he saw the face he was looking for. The man came out and lit another smoke, and as he did Thad wondered if the lighter he used was the one that had started the fire.
When it looked like they were getting ready to leave, Thad put his pack on and readied his bike. He waited as the mailman and his security escort got in the truck and pulled toward the barricade. The security personnel manning the barricade opened it so the truck could pull out. It was the first of several. The truck turned north on the highway, the next two turned south and the last one turned north as well. After they were all out, Thad hung the binos around his neck and started to ride along the left field fence, parallel to the road. At the end of the park, he pulled out onto the sidewalk and kept his eyes on the lead truck, pedaling as hard as he could.
At the intersection of Ehren Cutoff, the lead truck made a right and the second one kept going north. Thad pushed himself to go faster. He angled the bike across the road toward the intersection, and making the turn he saw the truck up ahead just as it rounded a curve in the road. As Thad reached the curve, the truck was nowhere in sight, but he kept up the pursuit. As he approached the entrance of the neighborhood on the right, Thad called out to the men manning the barricade, “Did a mail truck come through here?”
From behind the car a man stood up and pointed down the road. From there the options were pretty limited. They had to be going back out to Pump Station Road. He knew he couldn’t catch the truck, but now he hoped he knew where it would be sometime later today. With that thought in mind, he began to ride at a more manageable pace.
Turning onto Pump Station Road, Thad looked at the little dusting of sand where the road curved away from the plant. He skidded to a stop when he noticed his bike tire tracks in the sand had been cut by the larger tires of what Thad knew was a mail truck. Back at his truck, he took a minute to drain a canteen, then several to eat everything left in his pack.
After eating everything he could find, including the sugar packets from the MREs, Thad pulled the truck up to the end of the dirt road and inside the tree line enough that it wouldn’t be seen. To pass the time, he went through the glove box, messed around with every knob on the dash and when he was out of things to turn twist or flip, he pulled the pack over.
He found a pack of apple jelly, tore the top off and sucked its contents out. Reaching back in the pack, his hand landed on the Transformer. He had it sitting in his lap when he finally opened his eyes to look at it. He remembered Tony lying on the living room floor playing with it. He held it up, making it walk along the top of the steering wheel. A slight smile came to his face as he made laser sounds just like Little Tony had.
The smile faded and Thad shoved the toy back in the pack. He had spent the day sitting in the truck, getting out occasionally to take a piss and stretch, and he was standing in front of the truck looking down the road when the mail truck rounded the corner onto Pump Station Road.
Thad climbed behind the wheel, started the truck and put it in gear. He watched up the road, waiting for the truck to come into view. It didn’t take long. The mailman was on the left, on Thad’s side of the truck. Through the windshield he could see the security man sitting beside the driver. As the truck came closer, he held the brake down and stomped the gas pedal to the floor. When the Jeep was almost in front of him, Thad let off the brake and the truck leapt forward.
He could see the driver as he raced toward it. He was looking over at the security man, who was looking out the windshield, and just before the truck slammed into the Jeep the driver looked over. His eyes went wide and his mouth opened in a scream that never made it past his lips. The truck hit the Jeep square in the driver’s door. The two men were thrown to the far side of the Jeep. Thad kept the accelerator to the floor and pushed the Jeep to the opposite side of the road.
The road was raised about a foot and a half and as the Jeep’s wheels dropped off its edge, it fell over onto its side. Thad didn’t let off the gas and pushed the Jeep around so that the rear of it faced the road with the bottom of the Jeep pressed against the passenger side of the truck. He jumped out of the truck and ran to the front of the Jeep. The windshield was shattered but still in place, and through it he could see some movement. Raising one of his size-thirteen boots, Thad kicked the glass in with one thrust. The glass fell in on the mailman, who was trying to get up. Thad reached in and grabbed the man by the collar of his coat and snatched him out through the hole.
The postal worker looked up, sudden recognition on his face, and said, “No!”
Thad released the collar and wrapped his left hand around the back of the man’s head, like an NBA star palming a basketball. His right hand was in a tight fist and Thad smashed the man’s face with a slapping, crunching sound. The body went limp. Thad turned his attention to the security man, who was trying to crawl out of the Jeep. Seeing Thad’s feet, he looked up, blood streaming from his nose and mouth. Thad’s right leg came forward, his boot crashed into the man’s chin, snapping his head back, and he too went limp and fell half out of the Jeep.
Chapter 18
Sarge and Mike double-timed it back to the shack. Rushing inside, Sarge yelled for Ted to get the claymores. Ted looked up from the radios he was monitoring and asked, “Why? You been followed?”
Sarge set the M1A down, leaning it by the door where the weapons were kept. “No, we’re going to ambush them again.” He picked up the Minimi.
Mike said, “They’ll be expecting us next time.”
Sarge put the sling of the machine gun over his head. “Correct, but they think we’re on this side of the river, and we’re going to be on the other side, above them on the bank. Now hurry the fuck up.” Sarge looked at Ted and said, “Get the SAW. Mike, grab one of the AT4s. Doc, you’re going to take us to the other side of the river then come back into the canal here and wait. Take the 203 with you; if we get in trouble, start dropping some heat on ’em.”
Sarge saw the younger men thought it was a bad idea, but they did as they were told. Soon Doc was in the boat and all the men climbed in. Sarge directed Doc to a point upriver from their last ambush.
When they hit the bank, the three men jumped out. Sarge said, “Listen to the radio. I’ll call you when we’re ready to be picked up. Stay far enough back in there that no one sees you.”
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sp; Doc nodded and backed the boat back into the river, looking downriver for any sign of their targets. Sarge directed the guys to the high bank overlooking the now two bodies in the river. He pointed out the locations for the three claymores they brought and indicated the positions he wanted the guys in. Each of them would have a clacker for setting off a claymore. They would be spread out on the ridge about thirty yards apart. Sarge and Ted would be at either end of the ambush, each of them with a SAW, and Mike would be in the center with his carbine and the AT4. Sarge instructed them that he would set off the ambush. If there was a security boat that stayed out in the river, Mike was to hit it with the rocket if the ambush was triggered.
It was getting late in the day and Sarge had begun to wonder if anyone would be back that day when he heard the helo. Looking over his shoulder down the ridge, he could see Mike had his index finger above his head, twirling it around. Sarge nodded and put his hand out, moving it up and down slowly, telling Mike to chill out. Sarge looked downstream and the helo shot right over his head, coming from behind him and going out across the river.
“Shit,” Sarge muttered under his breath.
He watched as the bird banked hard and turned on a bright spotlight. It was searching the side of the river where they had set the previous ambush. The pilot was making fast passes up and down the bank, dangerously close to Doc in the little canal. If they spotted Doc in the boat, they’d be fucked. The helo made another fast pass, the door gunner leaning out of the ship, a SAW held to his shoulder, looking down into the swamp.
On the next pass, the gunner pointed down into the swamp and talked into his headset. Mike pointed out at the helo and held his hands up in a WTF? Sarge shook his head, holding his fist up and shaking it at him, telling him to hold fast.
Again the helo returned to the mouth of the little creek. Sarge watched as the gunner stepped out onto the skid. He had to be looking at the boat Doc was in. The gunner looked toward the pilot and started to talk into his mic. Suddenly three boats came roaring down the river, two fiberglass boats and one rigid-hull inflatable, or RIB. The RIB was orange and had USCG painted on the side and the crest of the Coast Guard on the aluminum wheelhouse of the boat. Mounted to a hard point on the bow of the boat was a .50 Browning Machine Gun. Sarge knew the ambush had been a mistake, but they still had the advantages of position and surprise. That didn’t make up for the other side’s air cover, but it helped.
Between the three boats there were more than twenty men. The boats went to the other side of the river, moving toward the creek mouth. Sarge dropped his head. “Motherfucker!” he said into the grass under him. He cradled the machine gun in his arms and crawled toward Mike and then waved at Ted to come over.
“What the fuck are we going to do now? I told you this was a bad idea!” Mike said.
“I know, but we’re over here an’ they don’t know it.” Sarge said.
Ted made it to them and said, “What the fuck, man?”
Sarge cut him off. “Don’t tell me it was a bad idea, I got that already. The question is what are we going to do about it? We can’t leave Doc over there alone.”
“You’re damn right we aren’t leaving Doc over there. We got to draw those bastards off him and then we got to try and get the fuck out of here,” Ted said.
“Ideas?” Sarge asked.
Ted looked at Mike. “Can you hit that bird with the rocket?”
“Oh, sure, just as soon as it goes into a hover and gives me the ‘go’ signal. Fuck no, I can’t hit that damn thing!”
“Then what the fuck are we going to do?” Ted asked.
“Knock it off, dammit. Ted, you go back to your position, I’ll go to mine. We’re going to open up on the bird. Mike, you hit that RIB. We put enough rounds on that ship, they’ll bug out. Maybe we can even knock it down. As soon as it’s gone, Ted you and I open up on the other two boats,” Sarge paused and looked at Mike. “You have to get that boat. If they get that fifty into action we’re fucked to the max, got it?”
The two men nodded. Sarge said, “Let’s get Doc’s ass out of there.” With that he crawled back to his position and Ted did likewise. After settling back into his hide, Sarge looked down to Mike, who gave the old man a thumbs-up and shouldered the rocket. Sarge set out another drum for the shortened SAW and sighted down the barrel at the helo, which was now making slow orbits over the mouth of the creek.
As the bird came out into the river, closer to them and with the gunner on their side, he took a deep breath and settled his sight on the gunner hanging out the door. He squeezed the trigger and the little machine gun started to spew lead and tracers at the ship. Ted’s gun joined Sarge’s and the gunner was hit numerous times. Sarge immediately changed his point of aim to just in front of the engine cowling, and at the same moment the ship banked hard and started to climb. A loud bang and a whoosh erupted from Sarge’s left and through his peripheral vision he saw the rocket streak out across the river.
The orange RIB erupted in a violent explosion. The other two boats immediately opened their throttles. One of them was too close to the bank and launched itself up onto the knees of the cypress trees on the side of the river. Ted and Sarge were both still firing at the ship as it raced to get out of range. Sarge could clearly see tracers from both his and Ted’s weapon sink into the fuselage of the retreating helo.
The last boat had moved upriver and was now putting rounds into the bank Sarge’s tracers were coming from. The stranded boat exploded and the few men that hadn’t been on it turned and started firing into the swamp.
Ted opened up on them and another explosion went off in the tree line. The man he was shooting at went down. Sarge ran out of ammo and had to change belts. The men on the last boat were getting a better range on him, and their fire intensified. The boat started to move slowly back toward them. Mike and Ted both were looking for any signs of life on the other side of the river when a geyser of water erupted beside the boat. Mike looked upriver and began to fire at it with his carbine.
Sarge was just closing the feed tray cover when another geyser of water erupted. The boat turned and started upriver, throttle wide open. Mike continued to fire at it until it rounded a bend out of sight. The RIB was gone and the other boat that had got hung up on the cypress knees was burning, thick black smoke billowing up from it. The sound of an outboard revving up brought Sarge back around and he looked across the river just as his boat came flying out of the creek mouth. Doc came across the river hard and fast, running up onto the soft mud just down from their location.
“Come on, come on!” Doc shouted.
Ted and Mike came at a run. Sarge asked, “Did you get the claymores?”
“We got ours; head to the boat and I’ll get yours!” Ted shouted.
Sarge picked up the clacker and pulled the wire out. He picked up his SAW and pack and ran for the boat. Mike was already down on the bank, and Doc had his weapon up and was looking upriver. Sarge jumped into the boat and Ted was soon behind him. Mike was the last on board, and Doc backed the boat into the river and opened the throttle as he raced across the river toward the creek.
• • •
“This one’s still alive!” Rick called out from the road. He was standing over the body lying on the road in a spreading pool of blood.
I looked at the two bodies lying inside our barricade. I could see them both lying there but I couldn’t see their faces, and I really didn’t want to look at them. I looked up and saw Mark kneeling down beside the man on the road. I walked over toward the bodies. The one on his back with his knees bent was Lance. His arms were wide out to his side as if he were making sand angels on the side of the road. Seeing him there with a bullet hole just above his right eye really hit me. I hadn’t seen anyone I knew and cared for killed, and it landed on me like a ton of bricks.
I walked over to the second form just behind the log barricade. He was on his side facing away
from me, but without seeing his face I could tell he was a smallish young man and then I knew who it was. Reggie’s nephew had moved in with him a week or so before and, not wanting to feel like a mooch, he had been taking his turn on the barricade. As a reward for his efforts, he got a bullet in his chest.
I went over to him and turned him over. His mouth hung open in a silent scream. His left eye was open and his right closed. I reached down and closed his eye. I sat there and wept over his body. I couldn’t control it, it just came out. My hand was still on his face when I finally managed to get my shit together. I looked up to see Danny, Reggie and a couple of others heading our way. Danny was on his ATV and Reggie was at a full run.
I looked over at Mark, who was still kneeling over the man on the road. Rick was covering him, his head constantly scanning the area. Danny skidded to a stop and hopped off the Polaris. “What happened?”
“We got hit. Don’t know what they wanted exactly, but you see what happened.”
Reggie was almost to us and I went out to meet him, to stop him. At my approach, Reggie slowed, huffing to get a breath. “What the fuck happened?”
I shook my head. I didn’t know how to break it to him. Reggie looked me square in the eye and simply said, “Robbie?”
“Yeah, man, I’m really sorry.”
Reggie walked over to the boy’s body. Danny was standing there looking at him as Reggie came up. The big man stood there looking down in silence. Rick walked over to us and looked at the bodies, then looked at three of us. “It’s the same group that came by a few days back, the ones heading into the forest. They were hungry and desperate and they thought they’d come back here and scare us into giving them some food.”
Without looking up, Reggie asked, “Did any of them get away?”