Conflicted Home (The Survivalist Book 9)

by A. American

  Dalton gave Micha a push, spinning him. “I think we’re good.”

  I walked over in front of Micha and grabbed a handful of hair and lifted his head. “You ready to confess your sins in public? If you want to escape the rope, it’s your only way out.”

  He nodded and croaked in a raspy voice that I was sure was raw from a night of screaming, “I’ll read it. Please, please, cut me down. I can’t take this anymore.”

  I looked around. “Someone got all this shit written down?”

  Ted tapped a notepad with a pen. “Yep. Got it all right here. This one’s been a naughty boy.”

  Looking at the two Cubans, I asked, “What about these two?”

  “They won’t say anything,” Mike said. “The one is nearly dead and the other just says he’s a soldier following orders. Typical shit. He seems to be under the misguided assumption the Geneva Convention is somehow in play.”

  “Funny how animals like that will commit untold atrocities against civilians and then, when they’re captured, fall back on perceived protection of the Convention,” I replied.

  “Let’s get them all loaded up and headed to town,” I said.

  Dalton produced his Kukri and in one fluid motion severed the ropes holding Micha up. He crashed to the concrete floor, landing on his hands. But they were so numb from being bound all night, he hardly noticed. We pulled him to his feet and gave him clothes, which he couldn’t put on without assistance. Dalton and Mike roughly helped him into a pair of pants and pulled a shirt over his head. His hands were once again bound behind his back and he was stuffed, along with the two Cubans, into the back of the Hummer.

  I told Sarge I would meet him in town and left to go get the little red truck. The Hummer was full as it was, and I wanted to see if anyone else wanted to go. Wallner was at the bunker when I walked by and expressed his condolences again. I thanked him and asked if they needed anything.

  “No, we’re good. You taking him to town?”

  Watching the Hummer and the Stryker turn out onto the road, I nodded. “Yeah. They’ve got to pay for what they’ve done.”

  “Should’ve just shot them.”

  “Hanging them in public will do far more good. For everyone. If we just told the people we shot him and put him in a hole, they would never really know. There are already some rumblings in town that the Army was responsible for what happened at the park.”

  “That makes sense. Let everyone see it,” Wallner replied.

  I told them I would see them later and headed for the house. I went to Danny’s to see if he wanted to go. He was already on the porch when I walked up. Thad was there with him.

  “You guys want to go to town?” I asked.

  They both stood up, the answer clear. I nodded and said, “Let me get Mel and we’ll head that way.”

  The girls were sitting on the porch with the dogs. I told them we’d be back shortly and to stay around the house. Little Bit asked if she could go to Danny’s house to play with Jace and Edie. I said she could, but that they needed to stay within sight of the house. She said they would and jumped up and ran off.

  “How long are you guys going to be gone?” Taylor asked.

  “Couple of hours,” I replied.

  “Can we come?” Lee Ann asked.

  I shook my head, “No, kiddo. You need to stay here and keep an eye on your sister, help with the kids.” I thought she’d protest, but she didn’t.

  I went in to find Mel. She was ready to go and I didn’t even shut the door before we were heading back out. Thad pulled up in the little truck and we hopped into the back. The air rushing by felt good. It was still warm, but it was moving. The market in Altoona was bustling with people, and even from the road, I could see people were trading the goods we’d just given them. It made me wonder what they were trying to get. Why they didn’t just eat the food. But it was bound to happen. The sudden influx of items no one had seen in a long time made them valuable, and therefore, they were defacto currency.

  The Umatilla market was also busy, with more people out than usual. It was good to see so many people out and about. I’m sure word had spread about what happened in Eustis. But it didn’t seem to deter folks from getting out and gathering. As we passed the Publix, I saw Alex on the side of the road. He had a bag over his shoulder and waved as we passed. I waved back, noticing the boots. He watched us for a moment before turning and continuing his trudge down the road.

  As we passed through the barricade, I saw the old bucket truck on the side of the road. Terry and Baker had apparently managed to resurrect it. I thumped the roof of the truck. Thad slowed and pulled up behind the big truck. Baker was on the ground looking up.

  “How’s it going?” I asked. “You’re making better time than I thought you would.”

  She nodded. “It’s going faster now. We’ve almost got the line to the armory ready.”

  I looked up at the bucket where Terry was cutting a sideline lose. “That’s great. How long do you think?”

  “We might have it today if everything goes alright,” she replied.

  “How about getting it out to our place?” Mel asked.

  Baker’s head rocked side to side. “That will take a little longer.”

  “But you can do it, can’t you?”

  “Babe,” I said, “don’t get your hopes up for power to the house.”

  “We’ll get it out there. It’s just going to take a while. We’ll have to clear all the lines out there. But we’ve got a system now,” Baker replied.

  I nodded up the road, “So this will power the armory, the clinic and the county building?”

  Baker wiped her forehead with the back of a gloved hand. “Yeah. We’re going to bring up the armory first, then the clinic, then the courthouse. The guys are up there testing the transformers now.”

  It was a major step. Real progress everyone could see, and I hoped it would be a boost for the entire community. Not that it would affect their daily lives, but just seeing that it’s coming, that things are returning to normal, would reinforce people’s will. Maybe pick their spirits up after recent events.

  The Stryker was sitting in the park, not far from the burned-out hull of the five-ton truck. The bodies were all gone, though the park still smelled of death. The acrid stench of the fire, the putrid smell of the dried blood and other organic matter mixed into a nocuous funk. Sarge and the guys were standing on the ground in front of the gallows with the prisoners. I hopped out of the bed of the truck and told Mel I was going to look for Mitch. She gripped my hand and said she was coming with me.

  We made our way through the crowd until I found Mitch and Michelle by the side of the gallows. He was watching the goings-on and asked, “What’s this all about?”

  “We’re about to hold court,” I replied.

  “What do you mean?”

  I nodded at the three bound men. “They’re the ones that attacked the park. We caught them in the act. The one in civilian clothes there, he’s caused a lot of problems here. He’s going to read an accounting of his crimes and you’ll decide his fate.”

  “Here? Like this?”

  I nodded. “Look at these people. They think the Army, that we, attacked the park. That’s we’re the ones responsible for all this.”

  “I’ve heard people saying that,” Michelle said. “There’s lots of talk about it.”

  “Well, it wasn’t us of course. But we need the people here to know that, so we’re going to do this in public in front of everyone. Otherwise, things are going to get out of control.”

  “And they’re close to that point now,” Cecil said from behind me. I turned to look at him and he continued. “People are really upset. There was a lot of folks killed. Little kids even. And they want vengeance and they’re about ready to take it into their own hands.”<
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  “And we can’t allow that,” I replied.

  “But is this the right way?” Mitch asked. “Is this the way to do it? Is he really responsible?”

  I nodded. “Yes, he is. He was spotting for a mortar team. Him and another guy. The other one is dead, but we have his body here to show everyone. There were a couple other soldiers in the mortar group, but they were killed in the fight.”

  “I think it’s the right thing,” Michelle said. “By doing it this way, no one can say it wasn’t proper. Everyone will see the same thing. There can be no confusion.”

  Mitch thought about it for a minute. “I guess you’re right. It’s being done out in the open.” He nodded, “It’s for the best.”

  I clapped him on the back and we walked around to the front of the gallows. The crowd was full of whispers and murmurs. There was the occasional finger pointed in our direction, accompanied by hushed words. The crowd was obviously on edge and it wasn’t certain where they stood on things at the moment. But we were about to find out.

  I leaned in to Dalton and said, “Let’s take them up the platform.”

  “Why are we going up there?” Micha asked.

  “So everyone can hear what you have to say,” I replied. “And to make sure they can’t get to you.”

  He obviously hadn’t considered the possibility of the crowd wanting to tear him apart. He quickly turned and headed for the steps. Dalton followed him up, with Mike and Ted bringing the two Cubans up.

  The crowd began to hush as I stepped up to the edge of the platform. I looked out across the crowd, then down at Sarge. He was standing at the bottom of the steps, preventing anyone from rushing up the steps. I looked back over my shoulder at Mitch and he nodded. I nodded back and cleared my throat.

  “I know there are a lot rumors going around about what happened here.” Heads bobbed and words were exchanged throughout the crowd. “But we’re here to set the record straight on what happened.”

  “How are we supposed to believe you?” Someone shouted from the crowd.

  “Because I’m not the one that’s going to tell you what happened.” Surprise swept over those gathered. “The men responsible for that horrible event will tell you themselves what they did.”

  I nudged Micha with an elbow. He hesitated and I pushed him towards the edge of the platform. Leaning in close, I whispered, “Start talking or I’ll throw you off here and tell them what you did myself.”

  Fear covered his face as he looked out across the park. But he started to speak, softly.

  “My name is Micha,” he began weakly.

  “We know who you are!” Someone shouted from the front of the crowd.

  “Speak up! We can’t hear you!” Another voice shouted.

  “Tell us what you did!” Yet another shouted.

  “I was with these men, and others, who bombed the park the other day,” Micha managed to say.

  The crowd erupted with shouts of why? Terrorist, and others. Micha shrank from the shouts, then a rock flew out of the crowd and hit him in the chest. He turned to shield himself as other things started to fly from the crowd. Sticks, pieces of concrete, blackened pieces of metal from the truck. The end of a mortar round with the stabilizing fins still attached.

  I drew my pistol and fired two rounds into the air. “That’s enough of that shit!” I shouted as the crowd pressed away from us. I leaned over to Ted and asked for the piece of paper with the notes. He handed it to me and I stepped to the edge of the platform.

  “As many of you know, the DHS ran a camp out in the forest before we kicked them out. Many atrocities were committed there. The DHS members were being sent to a prison after being captured by the Army. Micha here helped them escape. He is also the one that sprayed herbicide on our farm in attempt to deny you food. He also worked with others to plant the bomb at the park earlier this year. He consorted with the Russian and Cuban forces that currently are causing trouble. Which leads us to what happened here. Micha and another man acted as spotters for the mortar team that launched the attack on the park where so many were killed and injured.

  “Which brings up another point. Some of you are starting rumors that the Army committed this crime against us. And I say us because that’s what I mean. We were here when the attack started. We lost people, both killed and wounded as well.” I looked down at Danny standing in front of the platform. “We were here handing out food for crying out loud! How could you think we were the ones to do something like this?” I paused for a moment as the crowd shared some guilty glances. “That sort of thinking is exactly what the enemies committing this violence want you to do. They want to splinter us, to separate us. Cause division. But we have to stick together!”

  I stopped, trying to think of what to say next when someone shouted, “Now what?”

  I looked down at Mitch. He nodded and walked up the steps. I looked out over the crowd and said, “We’ll let Judge Williams decide his fate.”

  All eyes were on Mitch as he made it to the top of the platform. He looked out across the crowd, then at Micha, who wouldn’t make eye contact. I think he was starting to get the idea he wasn’t getting out of this.

  Mitch turned to face the crowd and licked his lips. “These men have committed grave crimes against the community. Murder, maiming and sowing distrust.” Mitch turned to face Micha, “You’ve admitted your crimes, and on behalf of our community I sentence you to death by hanging.”

  Shock filled Micha’s face as he started to cry out, “You said if I told the truth you wouldn’t kill me!”

  The crowd erupted with shouts of, “Hang him! Hang them all!”

  Micha, still trying to talk his way out of this, struggled. But he was no match for Dalton who roughly pushed him into position on the platform and pulled the rope over his head. Micha tucked his chin into his chest in a last-ditch effort to keep the rope from tightening around his neck. But Dalton gave him an open palm slap to the groin. It let the air out of Micha and Dalton was easily able to cinch the noose tight.

  Sarge came up on the platform as this was being done. The two Cubans began to understand just what was happening and one of them, the less injured of the two, began to pray in Spanish.

  “As the highest ranking military official here, I sentence these two soldiers to death for war crimes committed against civilians. They’ll share the same sentence as Micha, hanging by the neck until they are dead.”

  All the while, Micha was still blubbering, sobbing and cursing us for lying to him. He’d spent his days since The Day aligning himself with those he felt were stronger. He was happy to do whatever he was told, with no thought or consideration for those he was helping to harm, so long as it meant he could eat and live comfortably. But that time was about to run out, at the end of a rope.

  Mike and Ted moved the Cubans over their trapdoors and placed the nooses around their necks without protest. They were resigned to their fate. Or maybe they decided they would go out like men and not like a coward. I couldn’t imagine what was going through their minds. I know I wouldn’t stand patiently by while someone hanged me. They’d surely get the job done, but by God, I’d make it a challenge for them.

  Once the men were in position, we stepped back from them. I looked down to see Danny holding the rope for Micha’s trapdoor. He had it wrapped around his wrist and was staring intently at the man. Thad had the other two ropes, one wrapped around each wrist as well.

  Danny sneered at Micha and said, “May you rot in hell!” And he gave the rope a violent jerk. The trapdoor fell out from under Micha’s feet and the rope caught him. But it didn’t break his neck. Instead he writhed against his own weight, slowly suffocating him. Danny stepped towards him, Micha’s upturned face only a foot or so higher than his own as the two Cubans fell through the platform, snapping their ropes tight.

  Danny wat
ched with morbid intensity as Micha kicked and jerked. As the blood vessels in his eyes burst. When the man finally stopped moving, Danny studied him for a moment longer. Then he drew his pistol and shot Micha in the face. There would be no doubt about whether he was dead or not.

  The crowd was silent. The blood lust leading up to the act drained away as they watched life leave the three men. Their limp bodies turning slowly from their ropes. The crowd started to drift out of the park, the spectacle of dying men, and the rush of morbid excitement that comes with it, now spent. Leaving those that witnessed it feeling an uncertain shame in the pit of their stomachs.

  We walked down off the platform where Cecil was waiting. He nodded approvingly as we passed him. “It was done good. Done right.” He said.

  “It’s never good, Cecil,” Sarge replied.

  Cecil looked at the three men as they twisted slowly. “Maybe not good. But some men, some men just need killing. Micha was a sneaky little shit willing to sell his soul to the highest bidder. He was a constant source of distrust and trouble. I bet things calm down a little around here now.” He nodded at one of the Cubans, “As for those two poor bastards, war sucks. It’s the price you pay to play that game. I’ve seen worse done to men who were captured.”

  “But we aren’t like that. We’re not going to torture them just for the sake of inflicting pain. To extract information?” Sarge asked, “Sure. Anyone who says torture doesn’t work during interrogations has never properly employed it. But that’s the end of its usefulness. Beyond that, it’s just bloodlust; and that’s where we have to draw the line. Lest we become like them.”

  Cecil nodded. “It’s a dangerous line, that’s for sure.”

  “It needed to be done, and it’s done,” I replied.

  “It seems to have calmed people down,” Ted said as he watched the crowd slowly plod away from the park. “Looks like all their piss and vinegar is spent.”

  “When pressure builds, you have two choices,” Sarge said. “You either vent it. Or you don’t and it explodes.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder towards the men on the ropes, “This was the vent.”