by A. American
“What do you think?” Danny asked.
“I don’t like it. She has to be in there, and now I’m concerned for her safety. We need to talk to her,” Mark said.
“I’ll go around back and see if I can see anything. You want to stay here in case she comes to the door?” I said.
“Yeah, I’ll wait here. Danny you go around the right side, check the windows and doors, see if anything is unlocked.”
We both gave a nod and headed around either side of the house. I was checking the last window on my said when I heard Danny call me. I walked around to the back of the house. He was standing on the back porch and the sliding glass door was open.
Pointing to the open door, I asked, “You open it?” He shook his head. He had his carbine at low ready, directed at the door. “Let’s go see,” I said. He nodded and stepped through the door. The kitchen was empty. It was small and very neat and clean. We stepped into the living room and it was empty too. I called out, “Tina, you okay?”
From outside Mark called to us. “You guys inside?”
“Yeah, we’re in the living room, we’re going to check the rest of the house,” Danny called back.
There was a hallway to our right. Danny took the lead and lit the hallway with the light on his carbine. The first door opened onto the bathroom and it was empty. Across the hall from that door was another. Danny stepped in front of it. I reached out and grabbed the knob. Looking at him, I gave a nod. He nodded back and I threw the door open, Danny stepped in quickly and checked the room. It was empty. Again I called out, “Tina, you in here?”
We checked two more rooms but she wasn’t in them. I threw the last door open and Danny stepped in with me following him. Tina was lying on the bed in a fetal position on her left side facing the door. She was clutching a picture frame in her left arm, and a Ruger .357 revolver was on the floor beside the bed, her right hand hanging off the edge. We stepped up to the side of the bed and looked down. The Surefire on Danny’s rifle revealed an entry in her temple. The skin was burned and puckered; she must have had the pistol pressed against her head when she pulled the trigger. I told Danny I was going to go get Mark and left the room. Opening the front door, Mark could tell from the look on my face what we had found. “Where is she?” he said.
Stepping into the room, Mark was visibly shaken. “Dammit!”
We looked around the house for a note and didn’t find one. I didn’t know Lance real well and I didn’t know Tina at all, but I could only imagine that her grief over Lance was what brought her to do this. We wrapped Tina in the bed linens and carried her out the sliding glass door and out to the back yard. Setting her down, we went around to the front and carried Lance around. The three of us stood there around the bodies, not saying anything, just looking down at the two wrapped bundles. Finally Mark spoke up. “Can you guys handle this?”
Danny and I just nodded, and Mark said, “I’m going to search the house for anything the community can use. Whatever I find I’ll put in the back of your truck. Can you drop it off at my place when you’re done?”
“Yeah, man, you need a ride back?” I asked.
“No, I’ll walk.”
Mark headed back to the house while Danny went back to the Suburban and returned with the shovels. We picked a spot out near what had been a small flower garden. We walked off a plot big enough for each grave and then I took off my vest and leaned my carbine against a fence post. Danny did likewise and we began to dig. It took about three hours to dig the two graves. When we had them about five feet deep, we put the bodies in. Once they were in, we stood there looking down at them. I’m not a religious man and neither is Danny. I couldn’t begin to know what to say, and after a brief silence we began to fill the graves. Once the dirt was mounded up, Danny and I collected our gear and went back to the truck.
We threw the shovels in beside two boxes Mark must have put there. The whole time we were digging the graves and lowering the bodies, Danny and I never talked, and even in the truck we were silent as we drove back to Danny’s house. Pulling up at the gate, I stopped and Danny hopped out. After shutting the door, he looked in. “I’ll see you later, man.”
“Yeah, later, man.”
• • •
Thad picked Marty up and set his chair upright. The man was still crying and whining, asking what Thad was going to do to him. Thad walked out of the barn, returned with another chair and set it down in front of Marty. Marty looked around, not sure what was about to happen. Thad spun the chair around so the back was facing Marty, swung a leg over and sat down, resting his arms on the top of the chair’s back.
Thad sat for a full minute without saying a word. Marty’s eyes shifted from side to side nervously and he licked his lips in apprehension. Thad sat there with his forehead resting on his forearms, looking down between the slats of the chair back. Finally Thad looked at Marty with an expressionless face, this just served to unnerve Marty even further and his chest started to heave as he sucked air and blew it out through clenched teeth.
Finally Marty couldn’t take it anymore. “What do you want?” he asked, crying as he did.
Thad sat there for a moment. “You got a family?”
Marty answered immediately, “Yes, yes, I have a wife and son, he’s twelve.”
Thad cocked his head to the side. “You love ’em?”
“Of course, more than anything.”
Thad pursed his lips and nodded his head before dropping it again to look at the slats. “Me too, I loved my wife and boy too,” he said as he looked back up.
Marty’s newfound hope quickly faded, his face yielding to the contortions once again. “Look, man, I’m really sorry. It wasn’t my idea. Chuck did it.”
“You lit the fire, didn’t you?”
Marty’s eyes grew wide once again, his lips trembled, mouthing words that never sounded. Finally a weak “Yes” issued from his lips.
“Why? You say Anita shot at you, so you two shot her and set the house on fire while they’re still alive? Why not just let ’em be and leave?”
“You don’t understand these people. They tell you to do something, you do it, that’s it. There is no discussion. Burning the house is standard procedure for them. People don’t do what they’re told, they teach ’em a lesson.”
“So then you’re only doing this cause they make you, huh?”
“Yeah, yeah, this kinda thing isn’t me. I only do this because I want to take care of my family.”
“Ya know, I walked a long, long way to get home to my family. I did a lot of crazy shit to get home, the only thing that kept me going was the thought of them, and you set them on fire.”
“Look, I’m really, really sorry. I . . . I didn’t want any of this,” Marty managed through the renewed tears.
Thad sat looking at the man. “You want a cigarette?”
Marty wasn’t sure how to respond. He wasn’t sure if it was a genuine offer or would open this whole thing to a new level of hell. “Uh, yeah, sure.”
Thad pointed to his breast pocket. “In there, right?”
Marty looked down at the blue postal service coat he was wearing and nodded. Thad leaned over, fished the smokes and lighter out of his pocket and tapped one out, holding it up so Marty could grab it with his teeth. Thad struck the old trench-style lighter and held the flame up so Marty could get to it. Marty took a long, hard drag on the cigarette, then thanked Thad. Thad nodded his head and held the lighter up between himself and Marty, looking at it.
Marty was sucking the cigarette down hard and fast, looking at the lighter Thad was turning between his fingers. Reaching the filter, Marty spit the butt out, making sure to turn his head so it didn’t look like he was spitting it at the big man. Thad looked up and shook another one out, holding it up in a manner that asked if he wanted another. Marty nodded and Thad leaned over so he could get to it and lit it for him. Again
Marty inhaled deeply, letting out a cloud of smoke.
Thad held the lighter up once again. “This the lighter you used to light the fire?” Thad was looking past the lighter at Marty.
Marty moved the cigarette from side to side in his mouth nervously. He took another long pull on the smoke, squinting his left eye as he did. Without saying anything he slowly nodded his head. Thad was still holding the lighter with two fingers between the two of them. In one quick motion he snapped his fist around the lighter. The quick movement startled Marty causing him to spit the butt out. It landed in his lap, causing him to gyrate in the chair, “Hey, hey!”
Thad stood up. Marty was still looking into his lap at the glowing butt resting on his crotch. Thad paid no attention to him and walked over to a corner of the barn. Marty finally got the butt out of his lap and noticed the big man was gone. He craned his neck around looking for him. “Hey, where’d you go? Hey, man, where are you?”
Thad walked out where Marty could see him. He had a pack over his shoulder.
“What are you doing,” Marty asked.
“I’m gonna leave you now.”
“What?”
“I’m going.”
“You’re just going to leave me here?”
“Yeah, you’re on your own.”
“Thank you,” Marty said.
“Don’t thank me. I said you’re on your own,” Thad replied. He then struck the lighter and tossed it into a corner of the barn onto a pile of hay that he had soaked in kerosene. The hay caught immediately, the flame growing with rapid intensity.
Marty said, “You’re leaving me here.” Then he said it again, as a terrified screamed question, “You’re leaving me here?!” He began to thrash his upper body back and forth like a child restrained in a high chair might. It was the only part of his body he could freely move and he was doing everything he could to move it. Thad stood there for a moment looking at Marty as he started to scream and shriek. Marty the postman called for help, he begged Thad to release him, and then he cursed him using every vile epithet he could imagine to impugn Thad’s race, manhood and heritage. When none of that drew a response from the big man, Marty screamed out, “That bitch screamed her lungs out! She begged for her life and we burned her ass!”
Thad stood there motionless. “You’ve already begged for your life, guess that just leaves the screamin’ and burnin’.”
Marty’s face was expressionless. His mouth hung open with drool running from the corner onto the postal service patch on his coat, but only for a moment. He went into another fit of fighting against the ropes, thrashing back and forth violently, succeeding once again in tipping the chair onto its side. Thad walked out of the barn and over to the Scout. He set the pack on the hood, leaned against the fender and watched as the flames grew up the side of the barn where he’d set the fire. Through the open door he could see the man lying on the ground, squirming to try and free himself. He could hear the man screaming and cussing.
By the time the roof of the barn caught and began to burn, the heat was enough to make Thad back the Scout up. He then got out and leaned against the fender once again. Inside, the heat must be unbearable. Thad had never heard anyone scream that loud. The pigs in the pen were also screaming, more from fright than the heat as they were far enough way to be safe. In one loud crack, the beams supporting the roof finally gave and fell in, silencing the man. The only sound in the air now was that of the fire and terrified swine. Thad sat there for a moment looking at the tall flames, the sparks climbing up into the pitch-black, cloudless sky above. He stood there with his face raised to the heavens and said, “I’m sorry.”
Walking over to the pigpen, he opened the gate and went in. Thad drew the big blade and slashed the rope holding the body. It fell into the swirling mass of hogs at his feet. The light from the fire played off the rumps of those closest to it and lit the faces of those opposite. Thad looked down at the ghoulish, bloodstained grin of one of them, and it almost looked as though it were saying thank you. Thad left the pen, leaving the gate open, and went back to the Scout. He climbed in and sat behind the wheel, looking at what laid before him. It was a familiar scene, with the only difference being there was no innocence under these flames.
Chapter 21
Sarge turned the map around a couple of times till he had it oriented. He stuck his index finger out and ran it over the map, and, finding what he was looking he for, he tapped the map with the finger. He told Ted to turn left when he hit the dirt road. Ted nodded and hung a hard left onto the white sand road, fishtailing the truck as he did.
Dallas was an old shack eight and a half miles due north of the Sarge’s shack. It was in a huge undeveloped area crisscrossed with roads, paths and trails. Mike and Doc sat in the back of the truck, trying to hang on as the truck careened around the corners.
“What the hell is he trying to do, turn the damn thing over?” Doc said to Mike. He was leaning against the tailgate with his right arm hooked over the top of it.
Mike was sitting on top of the stack of camo nets close to the cab, his right leg stuck out against the far side of the bed to brace himself. He shook his head. He had a big smile on his face, as much as he could smile with the wound. He looked like a kid who was enjoying the ride.
The trip to the little shack didn’t take long. When they got close Sarge called a stop and Ted pulled over to the side of the road. They got out and huddled around the map. “I was worried they saw you,” Mike said. “I was scared shitless.”
Doc was stretching his back. “They would have, but I climbed out and hid in the woods. They saw the boat and that had their interest. I didn’t know what to do, and then you guys opened up and all hell broke loose.”
Mike asked, “Were there Coasties in that RIB?”
“All I saw were DHS guys. There may have been one operating it, but none on the deck.”
Mike shook his head. “Man, I hope not. My old man was in the Coast Guard.”
“You fire that rocket?”
“Yeah.”
“Hell of a shot,” Doc said.
Sarge stepped between them. “Story time’s over. Mike, you and Doc head through the bush here, take a due east heading. You’re looking for a little shack over there. Make sure there aren’t any surprises waiting for us. If you make contact, turn due south and we’ll pick you up on the first dirt road you come to.”
“Anything to get out of that damn rattletrap,” Doc said, and then the two of them headed into the bush.
Sarge went to the passenger side. “Saddle up, Tonto, we gotta be ready if they need us,” he said over the bed.
“What do you mean ‘we,’ white man?” Ted said.
Sarge chuckled and they climbed in and waited.
Mike and Doc were both wearing NVGs and communicated with hand signals as they worked their way through the bush. They were approaching the shack from the east side, and when it came into sight they took a knee and waited, watching the shack for any movement, anything that indicated someone was there. They waited for twenty minutes without moving or saying anything. Finally Mike looked over at Doc, raised his index finger and twirled it, then pointed to the south. Doc nodded and the two men stood up and moved out.
The shack sat in a small clearing, maybe half an acre. The two moved silently around the eastern edge of it, and coming to the southern edge, they stopped and took a knee to look and listen. They continued this process around the western and northern borders. Satisfied it was clear, the two men went across the road that passed just to the north and checked it as well.
The two men moved back to the clearing, skirting the western edge and approached the small shack from that side. At the edge of the shack they paused again, listening. Mike was paying particular attention to the ground around the shack. Doc motioned and Mike followed him to the northern edge of the shed. They carefully checked that side then moved to the eastern
side where the door was located. There were no windows in the shack, no way to look inside. Mike stepped around Doc at the door and checked very carefully around its four sides. Finding nothing, the two of them prepared to open it. Mike positioned himself in front of the door with his carbine shouldered and at low ready. When he triggered the green laser on his weapon, Doc jerked the door open.
Mike stepped inside quickly, turning to the left, and Doc immediately followed him in and turned to the right. The shack was big, thirty by forty feet, a big set of double doors on the south side. It looked like it had been used to store equipment, but not recently. Mike found some old oil filters, big ones, piled in a corner, but otherwise the place was empty, save for black widows and a population of antlions that must have numbered in the thousands. Mike told Doc to hang out while he went back and got the old man.
Mike went back through the woods to the truck. As he approached, he gave a little whistle. It was answered with another and he came out of the bush and walked up to Sarge’s side of the truck.
“Well?” Sarge asked as he came up.
“It’s clear, boss, big place too. We can park the truck in it.”
“Well, let’s go see this palace.”
Mike jumped into the back of the truck again and Ted drove off toward the shack. As they pulled in, Doc came out to meet them. The four men went into the tin-clad shack to look it over. Just as Mike had said, the structure was big enough to drive the truck into and they agreed that for the night they would drive in. The next day they would again make a hide for it in the woods. Sarge didn’t like the idea of having the truck in there with them in case they were discovered. In the meantime they decided to set up camp for the night.
As they went back out to the truck, a low whump drifted across the forest. “Looks like they found the party favors,” Mike said.
Ted just shrugged his shoulders and went to the truck to get his pack. Mike hopped into the truck and drove it around to the south side where Doc was opening the doors. Mike backed the truck until it was against the far side of the building before shutting it down. This way it gave them some room to get some speed if they needed to get the hell out of Dodge.