by Judd Vowell
I believed him. But I wondered desperately if his everything would be enough.
19.
I ran back to our living quarters as fast as I could, dodging frantic Lefty soldiers along the way. The battle was set, whether either side wanted it or not. And there I was, with Jessica and Henry and my want for Meg, caught in the middle of it all.
There was commotion at Henry’s cell as I arrived. I recognized two of our traveling companions, Beth and Madeline, standing in the doorway. That journey seemed like ages earlier in life, but it had just been a few days. As I got closer, I could see through the vertical lines of prison bars more people inside the room. There was Jeff, looking much better than the last time I had seen him. He had regained his color and spirit. And Anthony was there – Paul’s friend and the last of our fellow journeymen. Jessica spotted me coming and turned my way with a broad smile and tears on her cheeks. The others parted and made room for me to enter. And that’s when I saw Henry, sitting up on his bed and grinning.
“Hey, Dad.”
◊◊◊
I couldn’t let go of him. As much as I may have been concerned about his health and injuring him any further, I couldn’t stop squeezing him.
“Come on, Gordon, let the boy come up for air,” Jeff jokingly said over my shoulder.
I reluctantly eased out of my embrace, but held Henry’s arms in my hands and looked at him. “Good to see you, son. It’s so damn good to see you.”
“I know, Dad. Been sleeping a while, huh?”
Jessica laughed. “Yeah, Henry. Understatement of the year.” Still siblings...and still fifteen.
“Yeah, buddy. We were worried about you,” I said to him. “How you feeling?”
“Pretty good, I guess. All I remember is being so tired. I couldn’t stand any longer. I couldn’t keep my eyes open. But now I feel better.”
“Good, son. Good.” I turned to Jeff. “Looks like you’re feeling better, too.” I stuck out my hand to shake his. “Glad to see you. And sorry.”
“Thanks, Gordon. It’s been a tough time. Thank God for friends.” He nodded toward Anthony and Beth and Madeline. “If I want to honor Paul, I’ve got to fight back. These guys helped me realize that.”
“Well, it looks like your opportunity is almost here. The ANTs are on their way.”
“Yeah, that’s why we came down here,” Anthony said. “To check on you guys. Make sure you were ready. And to make sure Henry was protected.”
“Thanks for that,” I said.
“You need a secure spot to ride this thing out, Gordon,” Jeff instructed. He was definitely feeling back to his old self, with his natural leadership coming through. “You got a plan?”
I didn’t. It was all happening so fast. Now that Henry was awake, things were easier. And we had the medicine – the whole reason we had come in the first place. Maybe we could make a run for it before the ANTs attacked. Maybe we could save ourselves and actually get back to Meg.
“No, Jeff. No plan,” I said. “But if Henry’s up for it, we could try and make a dash for the road west.” I felt a surge of excitement at the prospect of escape. I asked Jessica and Henry, “You guys want to get the hell out of here and save Mom?”
But before they could muster an answer, we felt the rumble of an explosion, heard the screeching of stone and mortar breaking apart in a fiery instant. And I knew our chance for escape was gone.
20.
T he state penitentiary that became Camp Overlord in the midst of the Great Dark had originally been constructed in the 1920s. The county’s largest landowner had left the land to the state in his will, having no children interested in the annual feast-or-famine of farming. His intentions were clear, those being that the land be used for agricultural research. But in typical government fashion, the legislators and governor claimed a funding appropriation and deemed the acreage an ideal fit for a new, larger prison. To ease their consciences, I suppose, they made the prison a working one, utilizing a section of the confinement for growing crops with the hands and backs of prisoners. It occupied a significant amount of land, and it was situated nearly two miles from the highway.
Natural barriers were positioned on two sides of the donated land, helping to diminish the prospect of escape for any adventurous inmate. On the west side, there were thick woods with heavy underbrush for miles. On the east, the local fast-paced river flowed, reaching a width of seventy-five feet alongside the prison. On the north side, the creative minds of the state commissioned a dig-and-fill project for the area between the prison and the highway. They dug up two feet of topsoil and filled it with water from the river. With sparse trees varying in height and form, the section became a swampy marshland that made wading to the highway nearly impossible. All that was needed for fencing on those three sides was chain link topped with barb wire. The few prisoners through the years that made it over the fence didn’t make it much further.
The road that delivered supplies and visitors and freshly-convicted criminals to the confines led south from the highway alongside the river until it met the prison’s single entrance drive. The driveway ran beside the south barrier, which needed to be stronger than fencing, it lacking any physical obstruction gifted from nature. The prison designers built a stone wall twenty feet high with a steel gate in the center of it. On the four corners of the complex and dotted throughout were watchtowers, each large enough to hold four well-equipped men comfortably. Every tower housed a rotational spotlight, for after-dark escape attempts.
It was a prison of near-perfect design. But it seemed to me an even better military base. The ANTs that early morning were about to put that opinion to the test.
◊◊◊
There was no way to know how big the ANTI- force that was coming might be. I looked out the barred window in Henry’s room to see if I could gain any knowledge. It was still dark outside, but the moon was bright and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I located the source of the explosion we had felt. It was at the south wall, very near the corner of the complex on the river side. That was the only direction the ANTs could approach from unless they took the highway west for many miles and went around the heavy woods on that side. Advantage Lefty.
Although the explosion had sounded destructive, the wall was only moderately damaged. The Lefty soldiers stationed in the watchtower at the southeast corner were beginning to fire downward. They were unloading on the ANTs below them, hidden from my view by the wall. And then they were gone. The tower and everything in it disintegrated into fire and smoke and particles behind some launched rocket.
I had seen enough of the early battle, and fear began to propel my actions.
21.
I may have done things differently in the hours leading up to my death. There’s that overused but accurate saying – hindsight’s 20/20. I always thought it meant that we can see the mistakes we made and learn from them. But it’s not just mistakes. It’s choices – good, bad, or indifferent. It could be something as simple as leaving work at 4:45 instead of 5:00. Or eating the salmon instead of the steak. I didn’t know that until I was dead. When everything about my life became even clearer than perfect vision.
22.
I had always heard war veterans, old and young alike, talk about “the heat of battle.” Interviews, documentaries. Turns out there are a lot of ways to describe what it’s like inside the throes of human-to-human mass murder. Heat is as good as any. Everything around you is happening with such intensity that it seems white hot.
◊◊◊
I turned away from the window and saw Jeff and the others leaving through the doorway. He stopped and said, “Find some cover,” on his way out.
“Jeff,” I blurted out. “Don’t be stupid out there.” He nodded his affirmation and disappeared.
I didn’t like where we were located inside the camp. Too close to the point of attack. The smell of smoke was beginning to find its way into the room.
“Henry, can you move?” I asked him.
He e
ased off of the bed and stood warily, testing his balance. “Yeah, Dad, I think so. Maybe slow, but I can move.”
“Ok, good. Jessica, go gather everything we need. Make sure to get the guns and packs we brought with us.” She took off before I was finished. “And the medicine!” I yelled after her.
“Got it, Dad...” I heard her say from the other side of the corridor.
I wanted to move us north and west inside the hallways. To get as far away from the ANTs’ point of attack as possible. I had begun to realize that we still might have a chance to get away with their limited access to the camp. If we wanted to risk the wooded area to the west, we may be able to escape. There wouldn’t be any ANTs in that direction.
I helped Henry get dressed. He was weak, I could tell. That was going to be our determining factor, the answer to our fate: would Henry have the strength to make a run for it?
Jessica came back with everything we needed tightly secured in three backpacks. She had her rifle and three handguns for each of us. And the large knife I had carried with me throughout our journey. “Where to, Dad?” she asked.
“Just follow me, guys,” I replied. “I’ve got a plan.”
23.
W e made our way through the cell-lined halls of the camp, with me in the lead and Jessica last. I told Henry before we started to stop us if he needed to rest. Or if he couldn’t go any further at all. I just didn’t know what he was capable of doing yet. But he kept up. And he didn’t complain. Neither his leg nor his condition seemed to be slowing him down much.
We reached the central section of the prison. It was the area that opened up into dining, meeting, and training facilities. What had been a bustling hub of activity just a short time earlier was quiet now. All of the Leftys were in their defensive positions. The sounds of war being waged outside were growing louder by the minute. But they were still only coming from the south.
I veered us down the corridor that led closest to the northwest corner of the facility. I could feel the battle behind us, trying to wrap its arms around the kids and me. I moved as quickly as I thought we could, but the hallways were long and serpentine-like. It seemed to take hours and yet move in a blur.
At the end of the last hallway was a large iron door. In its prison years, the door had been locked using an electronic seal. Although Lefty had managed to generate its own system of electrical power, they had not been using it to keep the doors locked. I hoped that had not changed as we approached our possible escape hatch. I stopped us at the door to try and assess the situation and come up with our next step.
“How you doing, Henry?” I asked as we all knelt down.
“Ok, Dad.” He was winded, but not exhausted. First assessment: check.
The outside gunfire and explosions were more distant than before. We had outrun the battle. Second assessment: check.
I needed to get a visual of the area on the other side of the door. Then I could decide what we should do next. I grasped the lever that kept the door shut and closed my eyes, hoping for no resistance. It turned with ease.
“Guys, I’ve got to take a look outside. Don’t move,” I directed the kids.
I cracked the door and peered through the slight opening. I saw nothing in my limited scope of vision. I opened it further and still saw no movement. Third assessment: check.
In the distance I could see a medium-sized storage garage. Whether it had housed prison vehicles or farming equipment in its former existence, I didn’t know. But it sparked an idea in my head. I had been worried that the three of us couldn’t make it over the barb-topped fence even if we got the chance. But I was betting that garage still held tools. Industrial-strength tools capable of cutting through meshed steel wire.
I muttered to myself as I stared off toward it, “We just might not have to go over that fence after all.”
24.
I eased the iron door closed behind me as I came back through the opening. Jessica and Henry were waiting, wide-eyed. “Well???” Jessica asked impatiently.
“We’re clear,” I said. “And I think I’ve got a way to get us out of here. Out of the whole God-forsaken place.”
I explained the storage garage. I told them it was a few hundred feet away. We needed to get to it first, then get inside. “But it’s probably locked. Henry, that’s where I’m going to need you. Can you get us in?”
He turned to Jessica. “You pack my picks?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I got everything. They’re in the front pocket of your backpack.”
Henry unzipped the pocket and pulled out the pick set. It was a small leather sleeve. He opened it and shuffled his fingers through the numerous metal picks. “Yep. All here.” He looked up at me. “Dad, as long as it’s a standard locking mechanism, I can get us in. No problem.” I was seeing the confidence in his demeanor that Jessica had described.
“Good,” I said. “Then let’s get ready. We haven’t got long until sun-up.”
◊◊◊
Jessica led us across the expanse toward the garage. I followed behind Henry, keeping my head moving back and forth. I knew we were far from the action at the south wall, but I didn’t want any surprises. As we crossed, I noticed two of the watchtowers looming ahead. One was just on the other side of the garage. The other was further away at the northwest corner. They both had their spotlights trained on the battle in the distance, but they weren’t engaged in the fight. Yet.
We made it to the garage quickly. There were three large roll-up doors for vehicles. Each was locked from the inside. As we got to the last one, Jessica moved around the corner of the building. She leaned back and whispered, “There’s a regular door over here.”
Henry got to it and pulled out a small pen-sized flashlight from his pack. He took a few seconds to look at the locks on the door. There was a door knob lock and a deadbolt. He went to work on the deadbolt first, using precise wrist and finger motions to click each hidden tumbler into place. The lock on the door knob didn’t take as long, and we were inside the garage within two minutes.
I pulled out my hi-beam flashlight and used it to explore the large space. It became obvious that the garage had been used in its prison time for farming equipment. There were still two tractors inside, although useless. The rest of the space contained organized stacks of military clothing and gear. Lefty was using it for storage. There wasn’t much room for walking, and I began to doubt that the tool I needed was there. But when I finally made it to the far side, there they were. Along the wall behind one of the tractors were all sorts of farming and carpentry and mechanical repair tools of every shape and size.
I knew what I needed, and I knew it would be there. I ran the beam of my flashlight up and down the wall until I saw it: a bolt cutter strong enough to cut through the wire of a prison fence. I grabbed it up with excitement and made my way back to Jessica and Henry, who were waiting by the door.
“And here it is,” I said, as I held up the cutter proudly.
Henry spoke up, “We’re gonna make it out, aren’t we, Dad?”
“This is the last piece of the puzzle, Henry.” Then a surreal vision came into my head. “I never in my life thought I’d be breaking out of prison.” It was absurd. “But that’s exactly what we’re about to do.”
25.
T he fence that separated us from the woods stood a long distance away from the garage. We could hear the battle at the south wall growing. I looked through the tinted glass on one of the roll-up doors. The Lefty soldiers in the watchtowers throughout the southern section of the camp were all firing now. It appeared that the ANTs had spread across the entire south border. There were residual fires burning along the length of the giant stone wall. As my eyes moved down the wall, I thought I could see gunfire and grenades beginning to explode at the southwest corner, then up the fence-line. The ANTs were coming around the south border and attacking at the much more accessible chain-link fence. The same fence we were about to use for our escape. Our window of time was closing fast.
“Ok, guys, this is it,” I said to Jessica and Henry. “We get to the fence as fast as we can. I’ll cut a hole large enough for us to crawl through, then we head straight into the woods. We’ll get as far as we can from this mess, then rest. Good?”
“Good,” they replied in unison.
“And don’t think about what’s happening around us when we get out there. It shouldn’t take me long to cut the wire. And it’s still dark enough for us to be invisible. Just stay calm.”
“Don’t worry, Dad,” Jessica said. “We’ve made it this far, right?”
Henry put his hand out. Jessica grasped it in hers, then I put mine on top of both of them. “Triumphs forever,” he said.
I held their hands in mine for a few sacred seconds, then I opened the door and led them to the fence.
26.
I ran as fast as I could. I knew that Henry would be slower, but Jessica was with him. And I needed to get working on the fence as quickly as possible. I glanced over to the battle that was continuing to extend itself toward us. The exchange of gunfire was now constant and close. I could see that the spotlights from the two watchtowers nearest us had moved. They were focused on the fence-line that I was fast approaching, but further south.
I got to one knee at the wire mesh and started working the bolt cutter. It took more strength to operate than I thought it would. But I squeezed and pulled as hard as possible. Jessica and Henry weren’t far behind. I told them once they were kneeling beside me, “Keep your eyes peeled, guys. This may take a few minutes.”
Pressure and time. Those are the two aspects of stress. How one can handle pressure under time constraints. The pressure of three lives relying on my efficiency was more stress than I could ever try to explain. But the funny thing is, I believe it fueled me. As the gunfire and explosions grew louder in my ears, I quickened my pace. And then, when I began to hear voices of soldiers on both sides, shouting orders or yelling in pain, my determination heightened.