by Davis, James
Two new soldiers entered the tent, as soon as the previous one left. They paused for a second, looking over the two men who stood there naked, cupping their crotches with both hands.
"You like what you see?" Clay asked as Hank nudged him hard with his elbow. One of the soldiers, a young, thin, blonde man chuckled, reaching into a small white bucket and retrieving a handful of white powder. He threw the powder hard at Clay, covering his face and chest with the powder. He reached in and grabbed another handful, repeating the process with Hank.
Before either man could protest, a blast of ice-cold water hit them in the back. Clay sucked in a sharp breath and his body tensed up as he spun around to see where the assault had come from. He was met with a blast of the same ice-cold water, to his face. Hank spun around as Clay spit and sputtered as if he were drowning. The sprayer, a soldier, slightly older than the first with thinning blonde hair.
"You son of a bitch" Clay spat, lunging at the man with the hose. Hank grasped for his arm but his wet skin easily slipped out of his grip. The younger soldier's rifle slammed into the side of Clay's head, knocking him out and sending him tumbling to the ground. Hank shook his head, standing back and raising both hands above his head. The hose sprayer raised his rifle, aiming toward Hank and the other man shuffled out of the tent, yelling something in a language Hank didn't recognize.
A moment later, several soldiers entered the tent. Two men grabbed Hank by his arms and began dragging him toward the exit. The rest of the men lifted Clay's unconscious form and followed them out. The prisoners had stopped working and gathered around near the tent having heard the commotion. Whispers and chatter abruptly turned to silence as the soldiers emerged, dragging the two men behind them.
Hank peered around, as much as he could, hoping to catch a glimpse of his wife and son. He needed to see that they were ok at least. Several yards away he saw what he was looking for. Karen stood, covered in dirt, eyes as wide as dinner plates. He made eye contact as tears began to fall down her face. Dub stood next to her. Hank watched as a grin crept over the old man's face. He made eye contact, gave a slight nod and looked away.
He watched from the corner of his eye as they dragged him from view, Dub leaned over, grabbing Karen's arm and whispering into her ear. She turned and followed Dub. Hank could hear soldiers instructing onlookers to return to their tasks as the soldiers dragged them into another smaller green tent. They let go of Clay, who hit the ground with a thud. One of the soldiers threw a large plastic bag at Hank, hitting him in the chest. He fumbled, but managed to catch the bag before it hit the ground. He straightened up just in time for a second bag to smack into his chest.
"Get dressed, we'll be back in five." The soldier instructed before saying something in the unfamiliar language again. The group of soldiers burst into laughter as they began filing out of the tent. Hank opened the bag and pulled out a white shirt. He slid it over his head. The rest of the bag contained a pair of white boxers, a pair of grey sweatpants, a pair of white socks, and a pair of brown work boots. Hank quickly got dressed, and tossed the other bag next to Clay on the ground.
Clay's eyes blinked opened and he sat up, rubbing the side of his head.
"Get dressed, and control yourself. We aren't here to fight, not yet." Hank whispered sharply.
Clay shrugged, grabbing the bag. Hank offered him his hand to help him up. He ignored the offer, rising to his feet and quickly getting dressed.
“Seriously? Work boots and sweatpants?” Clay scoffed.
Hank chuckled, nodding his head in agreement. A soldier entered the tent and looked over the two men before motioning for them to follow.
They followed him out and across the yard to a large olive drab tent in the center of the farm. He led them to a set of cots, directly next to each other. Each cot had an itchy looking grey blanket folded at the end and a thin white pillow at the top.
"Get some rest, breakfast is first thing in the morning and work detail starts after that." he said, turning and walking toward the exit.
Hank looked around the tent. It was full of men, most of them were covered in soot. Some of them he recognized, others were new faces. He sat down on the nearest cot.
"Glad to see you boys ain't dead." A voice from behind startled them. Hank turned to see a grinning Dub.
"Not like we didn't try." he replied, nodding his head towards Clay.
"Good to see you anyhow. Where's the missus?" Dub asked. Hank caught Dub's eye giving a quick shake of his head. Dub's grin faded as it dawned on him what this meant.
His eyes lowered. "Hell, I'm real sorry. I didn't know." Dub stammered becoming visibly uncomfortable and shuffling to remove his dirty green hat.
"It's fine. Where is Emma, is she ok? And the dogs, where are they at? How's Betty doing?” Clay asked, wanting to get an update on the status of their family.
"Emma is just fine. I see them pups every now and again outside the fence. They’re looking pretty skinny but I’ve been trying to feed them a little something when they show up, and Betty, well that's a different story. This entire ordeal has screwed with her head. It’s different than the first time she took herself inside that camp at the school. Being forced in here plus getting whacked in the head has just made her real distant." Dub said, lifting his head and slapping his hat back in place. Clay nodded.
“Maybe she’ll come out of it after we take this place back.” Clay added.
“I sure hope so. Anyway, everyone is doing alright for now. The kids have been staying around Karen a lot and she Seems to be taking it like a champ. Old Dub ain't lettin those blue hatted sumbitches touch a hair on their heads."
"Thanks Dub." Hank smiled. "You better try not to let them see you with us too much. Gotta stay low profile. Let Karen know we're okay and we're working on handling this situation." he said quietly, looking around to make sure they weren’t being overheard. Dub’s eyes grew wide with excitement. Hank raised a hand, palm outward and said.
“Calm down. We still have a lot to do before anything happens. Just stay ready and try to find us some allies and try to keep a low profile.” Dub looked at both men and then nodded.
“Alright then, consider it done. I’ll start working on acquiring our allies tomorrow.” Dub replied.
“Good, now let’s all get some rest. I have a feeling that tomorrow is going to be a long day.” Hank said as exhaustion swept over him like a warm blanket. Dub nodded once and then stood, patted Clay on the shoulder and gave him a sorrowful look before moving back over to his own cot.
The next morning the sound of a rooster woke Clay and Hank around the same time. They both looked over at Dub’s bed and saw he was already up and gone.
“He sure doesn’t waste any time, does he?” Hank said, looking over at his brother. Clay just stared back at him with vacant eyes and exhaustion plastered all over his face.
“Are you alright Clay?” Hank asked. Clay’s eyes shifted over to meet Hank’s and he slowly nodded his head.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Clay said with a still groggy voice. They both stood and stretched their aching backs before folding up their bedding. After they were dressed, they headed out into the brisk morning air. As soon as they stepped through the tent entrance someone slammed into Hank, almost knocking him to the ground.
Karen wrapped her arms around him and started kissing him deeply. He tried to push her off, but she was on him like a pit bull with a bone. Finally, he gave in and squeezed her tight, kissing her with just as much passion. Clay cleared his throat getting both of their attention.
“Cut that shit out before someone figures out who we are.” he scolded. Karen pushed away from Hank and turned to Clay. With tear filled eyes she grabbed him in a bear hug and squeezed.
“I am so sorry Clay! Ash…” Clay pushed her back.
“Stop! I don’t need or want the distraction. I’m fine!” Clay snapped before turning toward the mess hall and walking off.
“He’s been different since Ash was killed. Don’t ta
ke it personal.” Hank said as he looked at his wife. Karen seemed to accept this, the smile returning to her face as she took a step back and looked her husband up and down. Hank glanced around, making sure no one had seen them.
“We can’t be seen like this. If they figure out…” Karen cut him off.
“I know, I know. Dub explained everything but I just had to see you.” She said. Hank looked at her and smiled.
“We have to stay focused babe. We’ll have plenty of time after this is all over with.” He kissed her once more.
“I need you to keep your distance until we get done with this mission.” Karen knew he was right but she hated the thought of seeing him every day and not being able to talk to him. Karen sighed, and cast her eyes heavenward, reaching deep for patience.
“Ok. Hurry up and get it done so I can have my husband back!” she said, giving him a wink and then turning to walk toward the mess hall. Hank watched her hips sway as she walked and suddenly felt all the blood rush away from his head and down to his groin.
He waited until she was inside before he headed to breakfast. He found Clay sitting in a corner alone with an empty plate and a cup of coffee.
“This coffee tastes like ass!’ Clay said, as Hank sat down at the table with his own tray and coffee.
“It’s better than no coffee at all.” Hank replied. Clay ignored the jab and looked up in time to see Dub walking toward them.
“How you boys doing this morning?” Dub asked as he pulled up a chair.
“Not too bad considering.” Hank said trailing off as he caught a glimpse of his wife again. He watched her for a long moment until Dub smacked his arm.
“Hey jackass, I’m talking to you.” he said, and Hank jumped, pulled out of the moment entirely.
“Huh? What’d you say?” He replied. Dub shook his head.
“You best snap out of it. I said how do you like the ‘coffee’?” he said, holding up air quotes. Hank chuckled.
“It’s certainly not the worst I ever had.”
“What about you? You doing alright bud?” Dub asked, as he glanced over at Clay.
“I’ll be fine.” He replied quickly before shoving off from the table and walking over to the tray return. He set his tray on the pile and then headed outside.
“That's not the same Clay I remember.” Dub said. Hank nodded, watching his brother walk out of the room.
“It’s not this bad when he's got his mind on other things. All this waiting around gives him too much time to think. He’ll be alright once we get to work.” Hank said, holding his cup up to point at the exit.
“I know how he’s feeling. Went through the same thing when my Rosie passed.” Dub said a hint of sadness in his gaze.
“I don’t think that’s the same as your wife dying in your arms and not being able to do a thing about it.” Hank replied.
“I suppose you’re right.” Dub added. And with that they both got up to return their trays and then headed for the exit.
“Report to your assigned area, it’s time for work.” A soldier shouted through a megaphone over and over as he walked through the area.
“Time to go be slaves.” Dub said, as he shoved his hands in his pockets and headed toward the back field. Hank followed but was stopped halfway there.
“You, stop right there!” A foreign voice shouted. Two young blue hats walked over and grabbed Hank by the arms.
“Come with me!” The first soldier said as they shoved Hank forward.
“Easy man, he knows how to walk!” Dub said, taking a step toward Hank. The second soldier quickly backhanded Dub across the face.
“You do not approach a man in this uniform unless you are told to do so! Get to work before I have you beaten!” The soldier said. Dub wiped a trickle of blood from his lip and glared at the man.
“You will pay for that you, sumbitch!” he said under his breath as he turned and walked away. Hank started to say something to the soldiers but thought better of it and kept his mouth shut. They pushed him toward one of the large military trucks and made him climb in. He looked around and spotted Clay sitting at the front of the truck, beaten and bloody. Hank squeezed in next to him.
“What the hell happened to you?” Hank asked. Clay looked over at him and smiled, his teeth stained red from blood.
“We’ll talk about it later.” Clay replied, spitting a mouthful of blood on the floor. Hank started to push the issue but decided to wait. Clay had probably been running his smart-ass mouth and got a beatdown from the guards. Hank just nodded and turned his head to look out of the back of the truck. A line of men wearing stained black clothes stood waiting to get in.
Hank watched as Jeff and Randy climbed into the truck and made their way toward them. The men sitting next to Hank scooted down and both guys squeezed in between them. None of them spoke as they waited for the men to finish piling into the truck. Each new man wore the same sweatpants, work boots, and t-shirt combo that Hank and Clay had received the day before. Unlike Hank's, the other men's shirts were covered in grease and stained, some almost completely black.
A few minutes later the truck lurched and they were moving.
Hank turned to look at Randy, who was seated directly next to them. "Where are they taking us?" he asked.
"It’s bout a two-hour drive. They got us refining oil for fuel to keep their damn Jeeps running."
Hank nodded, taking a moment to process the new information.
"What happened to him?" he asked, nodding his head towards Clay.
Hank shrugged. "I'm not sure yet. Running his mouth, I guess." he said, glancing back at Clay who ignored Hank's assumptions.
Randy chuckled. "Daddy's been givin’ ‘em hell since they showed up too." he said.
Jeff suddenly leaned across to his brother,"Shoulda seen it. First time they showed up, one of ‘em called him an old man. Shoulda seen the look on his face when Daddy gave him a good whack. Knocked that blue helmet clean off his head.” He said, holding back his laughter.
"He was madder than hell. They beat him up pretty good after that. You think that taught him a lesson?" Randy added.
"Nope!" Jeff exclaimed, a little too loudly, prompting dirty looks from both Hank and Randy. "My bad," he said, leaning back into his seat.
"Glad your back. Sharp dead?” Randy asked, now keeping his head forward and his eyes fixated on the floor of the truck. Hank slowly shook his head, also deciding to keep his head down.
"Shit" Randy cursed under his breath as he ran his fingers through his hair.
"We got a plan to get outta here?" he asked.
"Working on it. Don't want to say too much here, talk to your dad when you get a chance." Hank replied quietly.
Randy nodded his reply. The rest of the ride went by silently. Two hours later, the truck rolled to a stop. The load of men piled out and formed a line in front of a long eight-foot tall chain link fence. The top of the fence was wrapped with concertina wire that went all the way around the refinery. Clay and Hank looked up and then up some more, gazing at the massive red and white striped fire stacks. A huge flame blazed from the top of the stack closest to them. The sound of a chain being pulled from the fence pulled them from their daze and the group was quickly led inside. They followed behind Jeff and Randy as the group split off to different sections of the plant to begin work. By the time they made it to their work area almost everyone in their group had already split off.
“You two ever done any work like this before?” Jeff asked. Randy stepped over and cut him off.
“It’s easy as pie. Basically, all we’re going to do is heat that big tank up over there until the oil turns to vapor. Once that happens, it's someone else’s problem. Think you guys can handle that?” Randy asked, looking from Hank and then to Clay. They both shrugged nonchalantly.
“Sounds easy enough.” Hank said, before turning and following them over to the massive tank.
Chapter Twelve
Bear woke to the sound of shuffling feet coming from the
hall. He had spent the entire past day sleeping off a hangover from a night of drinking with Johnny when he first got to the small town. He didn’t plan on drinking as much as he did, but Johnny was a persistent little prick, and peer pressure was in fact a bitch as they say. A knock at the door drew his attention from his still throbbing head.
“Yeah come on in.” He said as he sat up on the edge of the bed. A young blonde woman came through the door holding a glass of water and a large bottle of Tylenol.
“Johnny told me to bring you this.” she said, setting it down on the nightstand next to him.
“Uh, thank you!” Bear said stumbling over his words as he watched the beautiful woman. She laughed and turned to leave the room but then stopped at the doorway and looked back at him.
“Come out to the dining hall when you’re ready.” she said with a chuckle before turning and walking out of the room. A split second later, the door eased shut and Bear was alone again. With only his pounding head to keep him company. He put his boots on and stood up. He rolled his neck to either side, a loud crack was audible in the small room. Bear opened the bottle of pills and shook two out into his hand. After taking the Tylenol he headed out of the room.
A few minutes later he was in the dining hall next to Johnny waiting to get breakfast.
“Sleep alright?” Johnny asked, as he took a sip of coffee.
“Remind me not to drink with you again.” Bear replied holding his head. Johnny chuckled.
“I thought you could handle your liquor. I didn’t realize you would be lying in bed the entire next day milkin’ it.” Bear glared at him and raised a single finger. Johnny laughed.
“I’m just messing with you, get you a cup of joe and some grub, you’ll start feeling better soon enough.” They got their food and found an empty table in the back. Bear set his plate down and headed for the coffee pot.
“Hey, fill this up while you’re over there.” Johnny said, holding his cup out. Bear took it and returned a few minutes later with two steaming cups of coffee. As he sat down, he glanced around the room, seeing groups of people all seated at large round cafeteria tables eating and talking about the day’s activities.