by Davis, James
He was slowly letting more and more of those fake U.N. troops enter the country and no one was trying to stop it. It wouldn’t be long until actual hostile forces decided to try their luck at taking over and Sharp would just stand by and allow it to happen. Kendrick walked into his building and down the hall to his office. When he was only a few feet away, he noticed that his office door was open. Kendrick stopped and cursed to himself as he realized that Sharp was already there. He thought about turning around and leaving but just as he was about to turn Sharp’s voice boomed out of the room.
“General Mason! I’ve been waiting on you for a damn hour! Please explain to me where the hell you’ve been!” Sharp scolded loud enough that everyone in his building could hear him. General Mason stepped in his office and slammed the door shut.
“I see you're in a pleasant mood.” Mason said, walking over and taking a seat behind his desk.
"I certainly was when I arrived, well over an hour ago." Sharp replied snarkily. If there was one thing Sharp hated, it was waiting. Of course Mason knew this, everyone knew it. He would never admit to having kept the president waiting intentionally, but he definitely savored that dry hunk of meatloaf a lot longer than he normally would. Mason stared blankly across the desk at President Sharp.
"Well, explain your tardiness!" Sharp demanded.
"I hope to hell that isn't the reason you're here Sharp." Mason replied, finding some amusement in the president's growing frustration. "Is there something you needed or are we done here?" he asked.
“General Mason, I am the president of these United States. You will address me as such.” President Sharp reminded him snidely.
“I don’t give a good goddamn if you’re the pope! I don't appreciate my time being wasted and I would rather not spend any more time entertaining you than necessary. Now, is there something you needed, Mr. President.” Mason spat, emphasizing the last two words of his sentence.
"Now you watch your tongue, General!" Sharp snapped. "I'll ignore that, seeing as I am in a rush. I need you to round up your troops and take me over to the Stanton farm. It's time to get rid of that nuisance once and for all.” he said, making his way over to the small table that held a bottle of Jim Beam and two short crystal tumblers. He glanced back at Mason, who was shaking his head.
“Don’t even think about it. Keep your hands off of my bottle!” Mason growled, standing up from his chair and joining Sharp by the table. He grabbed the bottle and poured them each two fingers of the amber liquid. Sharp quickly grabbed the offered glass and drank it in one big gulp. Sharp hissed as the bourbon made its way down into his stomach.
"The Stanton farm, General." Sharp reiterated, holding out his empty glass.
"Yeah, what about it?" he asked, tipping the bottle and refilling the cup.
Sharp sighed. "Have you heard a damn word I said?" he scolded, taking a drink from his glass.
"I try not to." Mason replied, taking a long sip of his drink.
"You and your men are going to escort me to the Stanton farm to eliminate the threat that resides there. It's a matter of national security, General." President Sharp informed him, finishing his second glass of bourbon and placing it on the counter.
"Don't you have the men in the little blue hats doing your dirty work these days?" Mason asked, turning his own glass up and emptying it. He placed the empty glass next to the president’s before screwing the cap back onto the bottle. He turned to face the president, watching his movements.
President Sharp returned his stare for a moment before grabbing the bottle off of the counter, removing the cap and filling his empty glass. He picked up the glass and walked across the room to an oversized leather chair behind a large wooden desk. He sat down in the chair, took a long sip from his cup and placed it on the corner of the desk. Sharp flipped open the lid to a small walnut cigar box and pulled a large cigar from the box. He retrieved a cutter from the desk next to the box, quickly removing the cap and lighting the cigar with a match. He sat back in the chair puffing the cigar a few times.
"My escort, General Mason, I need everyone you've got. As soon as you can get them. That is an order." Sharp instructed looking over at the general, who had been watching him.
General Mason stared defiantly as he watched the president make himself at home in his office. His face turned as red as his dark complexion would allow. He didn't speak as he turned and started toward the door.
"General Mason." Sharp called between puffs from his cigar. Mason stopped just before the door, not bothering to turn around.
"If you ever talk to me that way again, I'll have you court marshalled so goddamned fast your head will spin." Sharp threatened, blowing a plume of smoke out.
Mason quickly left the room, letting the door slam shut behind him. Sharp flashed his signature evil smile toward the closing door.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“So, Dub where ya headed?” Monster asked as he held on to Dub’s hand with a tight grip.
“Boy, if you don’t quit squeezing my damn hand that hard, I’m going to shove my foot right up your ass!” Dub barked as he jerked his hand away.
“Hell, I’m sorry. Didn’t think I was squeezing that hard.” Monster replied.
“Where I’m headed is none of your damn business. Now do you need help or not?” Dub asked, a sharp hiss in his tone.
“Yeah, I do. I think that’s pretty damn obvious, old man.” Monster said as he pointed at his destroyed bike. Dub’s hand shot out like a rocket, and smacked Monster upside the head.
“Don’t you call me old, boy!” Dub scolded. Monster’s anger rose for a quick second and then eased back down to a slight annoyance.
“My mistake, sir! It won’t happen again.” he said, barely able to contain his anger. Dub walked back to the Jeep and grabbed a couple of MRE’s and a few bottles of water. He brought the stuff back over to Monster and sat it down in front of him.
“This is all I can do for you son. The problem is that I don’t know you and I can’t just bring you back to my farm unannounced.” Dub said, as he stepped back from the big man.
“I understand. Maybe you and your people can get to know me and then let me join your group?” Monster asked.
“I’ll talk to my people about it and let you know in a few days. Just hang out around here and wait for me, or one of my boys to come back.” Dub replied.
“Fair enough. I’ll see you in a few days. Thanks for the supplies!” Monster said, as he watched Dub get back in his Jeep and drive off. He tossed the supplies to the ground and let out a screeching whistle. No less than twenty men piled out of the surrounding houses and walked out to join Monster on the road.
“Axle, follow that old bastard.”
Dub pulled up to the gate and waited for the guard to open it. He pulled inside and drove the Jeep right through the front yard, stopping next to the front steps. He spanned the four steps and walked inside the house and spotted Clay and Hank standing in the kitchen with Karen as she fed the two children. Sarge and Bella came trotting into the living room and stopped directly in front of him. Their tails wagged back and forth as Dub leaned down to pet them. He stepped past the dogs and walked in the kitchen.
“Hey. Where's my boys? Let's get this funeral over with.” he said in a resigned tone. Clay and Hank had concerned looks on their faces as they spoke.
“We thought they were with you. They left to follow you right after you took off.” Clay said.
“Well shit! I knew I should have stayed on the main road instead of pulling off down in that sub-division. We need to get them back here before I lose them too! I came across this shady guy that had wrecked his bike. He kept asking where the farm was at, but I told him it was none of his damn business. Said his name was Monster, or some goofy shit like that.” Dub stated. Clay and Hank’s eyes grew wide.
“Wait, did you say Monster? There is no way in hell he found us this easy. We had at least half a day on them.” Clay said.
“What are you talking a
bout?” Dub asked.
“Some fuckwit named Monster tried to steal my bike on our way back. We got the drop on them and got away. They must have tracked us down.” Hank said. Dub shook his head.
“Why didn’t you just kill the bastards? They would have killed you and taken all your shit.” Dub replied.
“Hank, go have a couple of our people that aren’t sick look for Jeff and Randy. Karen, take the kids down to the bunker. Dub, come with me. We need to get ready for a fight. Either Monster and his crew are going to show up or Sharp is.”
“Drive out toward the airport, he might be out there.” Randy said, as he watched out of the window for any sign of their dad. Jeff made the turn and started to speed up. After a few minutes they were staring at the burnt-out husk that was the airport only months earlier. Randy shook his head, as Jeff pulled the truck to a stop.
“Now what? He could be anywhere.” Jeff said. “We could check that sub-division down the street from the four way back there.” Randy replied.
“Why would he go there?”
“That’s where Betty lived, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know. I never went over there, but we can go check it out anyway.” Jeff said before turning the Humvee around.
“There he is right there!” Randy said pointing ahead to the four way. Dub’s old Jeep rolled through the intersection back toward the farm and Jeff sped up to try and catch up to him. They were a quarter of a mile from the intersection when they saw a man on a motorcycle slowly roll through the intersection like he was following Dub.
“Who the hell is that?” Randy asked.
“I don’t know, but as slow as he’s driving, he has to be up to something.” Jeff replied. He pressed down on the throttle and the Humvee shot forward, closing the distance to the bike in no time.
“Pull up alongside him!” Randy shouted over the rushing wind as he leaned over toward Jeff and pulled the pistol from the holster on his right hip. He pulled back on the slide and loaded a round into the chamber before sitting back in the seat again.
“You’re gonna have to kill this guy I bet.” Jeff stated as he closed in behind the bike. The guy still didn’t seem to notice them as they inched closer to his back tire. Randy leaned out of the window and aimed his 1911 at the guy.
“Honk the horn!” he shouted over the wind. Jeff laid on the horn for a few seconds until the guy acknowledged they were behind him. The man started to wave them around, but Jeff was not going to fall for that. The bike began to slow to a crawl before crawling to a stop. The man climbed off the bike and removed his helmet to reveal a head full of white hair. Jeff put the truck in park and grabbed his pistol as they both watched him walking toward the Humvee. The man held his hands out in front of him and shouted.
“No need for violence fellas, I just have a couple of questions!” he said as he watched Jeff and Randy get out of the truck with their pistols aimed right at his face.
“What do you want? Why are you following our dad?” Jeff and Randy shouted back at the same time.
“I wasn’t, I’m just trying to find a friend of mine. My name is Dan. I’m looking for a guy named Clay Mitchell.”
Hank bounded down the stairs to the bunker and headed for the kitchen. He stopped when he spotted Bailey wrapping a fresh bandage around Bear’s side.
“Hey where's Johnny?” he asked.
“Back here!” Johnny shouted from the radio room.
“Come out here. I have something I need you and Bear to do.” Hank replied. Seconds later Johnny walked into the room and stopped in front of Hank.
“What’s up?” he asked, looking from Hank to Bear.
“Bear, are you feeling up to a quick truck ride?”
“Hell yes! I am sick of being cooped up down here with this jackass!” Bear chuckled, as he pointed a finger at Johnny.
“I need you guys to go find Jeff and Randy, as fast as you can. We have trouble coming our way, we just don’t know when it will get here.” Hank said in an urgent tone.
“Who…” Johnny started but Hank quickly cut him off with a raised hand.
“No time, just go find them right now!” Hank said. He turned and went back up top leaving Johnny and Bear with confused looks on their faces.
“You heard the man, let’s go find Frick and Frack.” Johnny said as he stepped over to the corner and grabbed his plate carrier. He slipped the vest over his head and strapped it in place before grabbing Bear’s and helping him put it on. A few minutes later they emerged from the bunker and headed for the line of working vehicles. Just as they were about to get in they heard the sounds of multiple engines rumbling. A few seconds later, they watched as Jeff and Randy pulled up to the gate, accompanied by an older man on a Harley.
“I see these two jackasses are bringing home strays now!” Clay said with a chuckle as he walked up to greet Dan with a firm handshake. Dan looked around at the fenced in farm and started nodding his head.
“Nice place you got here.” Dan stated, as he glanced around.
“So, what are you doing here? I thought you were dead set on never riding again?” Clay said. Dan chuckled.
“Yeah, I thought I was done with riding too, but something just kept pushing me to come find you after you left the shop. How’s that Dyna treating you?”
“Actually, I let Bear take it when I first got here, and haven’t had much time to think about it.” Clay said as he turned to find Bear. He was standing behind Johnny trying to go unnoticed, but Clay spotted him immediately.
“Where is my bike? In the barn or what?” Clay asked. Bear’s eyes grew wide.
“Uh, actually I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that, but you’ve just been so busy.” Bear shrugged.
“I’m not busy right now. Where the hell is my damn bike, Bear?”
“Calm down, I didn’t mean to get anything stirred up here. It’s not a big deal.” Dan said, trying to defuse the situation down before it blew up.
“Well just so you know, no one would be walking around free right now if I wouldn’t have done what needed doing.” Bear said.
“Just tell me what happened to my bike.” Clay replied calmly.
“I had to give it to his buddy Roger in order to get the guns we used to overtake the farm.” Bear said pointing toward Johnny. Clay stood there for a long moment.
“Alright. I’m not happy about it, but I understand. You owe me a new bike.”
Clay said, before turning back to Dan.
“Well there ya have it. It’s gone.” Clay stated. Dan shrugged.
“Oh well, it’s just a bike.” Dan said as he shoved his hand in his right pocket. He pulled out a small key and handed it to Clay.
“Try not to lose this one.” Dan said with a chuckle. Clay’s jaw dropped open.
“I can’t accept this. You’ve already given me one brand new bike. I can’t take another one.” Clay said. Dan waved a hand dismissively.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not going to ride it again anytime soon.” Dan replied. Clay shook his head.
“Thank you, Dan.”
“It’s my pleasure son. Now go take her for a spin.” Dan replied.
“I hate to break up this little homecoming, but we have a ton of sick people here, and more than one threat coming our way. I think we need to figure out what we’re going to do about it.” Dub said. Clay nodded.
“Yeah, you’re right about that. Dan, you’ve showed up at the worst possible time, my friend. We have some kind of flu going around and don’t have enough warm bodies to fight Sharp off if he shows up with his army.” Clay said. Dan seemed to think about this.
“I’m no stranger to the ways of war. I can plink a target at over a thousand yards with the right rifle, so just find me a good rifle and a spot to set up a blind and I’ll earn my keep when the shooting starts.” Dan said as he looked to each person on the porch.
“We appreciate that, but one gun isn’t going to make a difference if an army shows up at our front gate.” Dub said gruffl
y.
“You’re not wrong, but you’re not right either. If Sharp pokes his head out and I send a hot round through it, I would almost bet the rest of the army stands down.” Dan replied.
“Cut the head off the snake. I like the way you think!” Dub said with a grin.
“Yes sir, there is more than one way to skin a cat.” Dan replied.
"Chopper!" Jeff shouted, disrupting the reunion. Clay scanned the sky, not yet seeing anything but hearing the distinctive whir of blades fast approaching.
"Get everyone inside!" Clay yelled. People rushed to take cover in whatever building was closest as the helicopter came into view over the tree line. Clay motioned for Dan to follow as he ran toward a row of portable sheds that he and Hank had brought back. The two men ducked inside the shed at the end, closing the door behind them.
The inside of the shed smelled like stale cigarette smoke and body odor. It was mostly bare, containing only a single cot, a pile of dirty clothes, and an old black milk crate that had been flipped upside down to be used as a table. A pack of menthol cigarettes sat atop the crate next to a circular black ash tray, overflowing with cigarette butts.
Clay peeked out the front window, watching the chopper fly directly across the length of the farm before circling and flying back toward the direction it just came from. He breathed a sigh of relief as the chopper disappeared over the treeline, just as quickly as it appeared. He waited and watched until he could no longer hear the sound of the spinning blades.
"It’s gone. Those things have been getting more frequent." Clay said, moving from his crouching position.
"That isn't the last of your bad news, son." Dan said, still looking out of the window on the side of the shed. He pointed a long thin finger toward the window and stepped aside for Clay to take a look. Clay stepped over to the window, crouching down to get a good look out.
"Son of a bitch." He breathed, as he peered out of the window towards the front gate. A convoy of what appeared to be a mix of blue U.N. Jeeps and green Army trucks barreled down the road, towards the farm's entrance. Clay couldn't see the end of the convoy but counted at least fifteen vehicles. Clay let out another sigh, this one clearly not from relief as the whir of helicopter blades could be heard again growing louder by the second. Clay turned to look at Dan.