“Let’s go, and have a night of it, and God help the poor son-of-a-bitch what disturbs it,” Mitch said, as he brandished his own bottle of Bushmills.
“Dad almost killed Sergeant Gonzalez,” Sarah said. “Maybe we should be a little more careful when we go down.”
Jack took the clip out of Sergeant Gonzalez’ Father’s weapon, and ejected the round from the chamber. He then put the clip back into the weapon, and put the safety on. He handed it to his daughter. She took it, placing it carefully into her own waistband.
She smiled. “I’ll protect you, Dad.
Jack hugged her to him, bad ribs and all. “I know you will honey. You’re right as rain. I lost my right to carry it around.”
When the group reached the canteen, only one server, maintaining a few entrees under glass, looked up as Peter entered with the rest close behind. The room looked as if it could accommodate at least a couple hundred soldiers at a time. Everything gleamed from the scrubbing after the last meal. Jack whistled in awe.
“This place makes me want to wrap myself in a plastic bag before sitting down. Maybe we better sit in the back. I don’t want to disturb the guy on watch.”
“Relax, Jack,” Peter replied. “We won’t bother him. They don’t celebrate down here much, but I don’t think we’ll make much noise. Besides, what can they do, throw us out?”
“I guess you’re right,” Jack agreed. “Let’s sit right here by the door, and keep in mind what my daughter said upstairs, and be careful. We’ll sip a few, and then get some food in our stomachs, agreed?”
“Bueno,” Mitch assented, followed by the rest of the group. Mitch put out six shot glasses he carried, and Steve added four more from his pocket. Mitch filled five up to the brim, and the other five about three quarters of the way. “You kids sip this elixir. We call this sipping whiskey. We have to teach you to savor good things like this.”
Mitch held up his shot glass, and the others followed his lead. “God Bless America.”
All of the glasses joined carefully and solemnly. They sipped and sat down. “What’s next, Jack,” Mitch asked. “Are we going to hang here for a while, or what?”
“I would like to stay here at least a couple of weeks, and try to get us all in reasonable shape to leave with what we need. I don’t think they plan on making us walk out. The only question we need answered tomorrow, will be what they want done to get things back in order.”
“I have to admit, my head feels a little better, since the good Doctor re-bandaged it. It hurt like hell before,” Mitch said. “It probably won’t get any better, jolting around in the back of an SUV.”
“She’s having a new leg made for me,” Steve added. “It won’t be ready for at least a couple weeks. She said I have this one worn down to the danger zone. Now how the hell do you think that happened?”
Everyone laughed with Steve, as he enjoyed his own comical question.
“All I need from the good Doctor for my back, will be a couple more of her hands on treatments, and I’ll be ready for anything.”
Nick shoved his Dad’s shoulder in mock revulsion. “You are no gentleman, Dad. You should be ashamed. I think you’re all too old for Dr. Morrison.”
“Why you little wiener,” Paul growled as the rest laughed, “I suppose you’re more her age category.” He pointed at Jack. “I don’t know what the hell you’re laughing at, Rip Van Winkle, you could be her father, you old prick.”
This of course brought more laughter, as Jack tried to get a word in “You think I’m old. Hell, Steve could be my father, right Dad?”
“Why you lopsided, black-ribbed, impotent…” Steve mumbled a string of curses.
“Impotent,” Jack exclaimed. “Hell, I haven’t had a chance to find out what impotent means for over four years.”
Sarah’s facial features twisted in distaste. “Oh great, we get to hear about all your long forgotten sex lives. Eeeeuuuuuwwwwwwwwww…”
This brought more laughter, and they all sipped at their drinks for a time, while Jack petted Wolf’s head absently, as the dog sat quietly next to him. “Man, I feel good. It may be only for a few minutes, but I’ll take it where I can get it.”
“I agree,” Steve said. “I’m tired of being cold, and hungry. I used to whine about my job in the world. Now, I’d like to work a job, and come home to a real house, and eat a micro-waved frozen dinner every night for the rest of my life.”
Mitch grinned. “Hell, I could stay here for the rest of my life. All I need for happiness rests in two words: indoor plumbing.”
“I used to like the snow,” Sarah piped in when the laughter died down, “but I don’t care if I ever see it, play in it, or touch it, again. I don’t even want to see it in a movie.”
“How about the rest of you,” Jack asked. “Anyone else ready for some California West Coast weather? Personally, I think the mountains build character, especially in the snow.”
“We wouldn’t want you to miss out on the rough life, Jack,” Paul said. “Let us know when you get back to the mountains. You can send a postcard, if they get the mail going again.”
“I bet Wolf won’t go back with you Dad,” Jake commented. Wolf’s head perked up at the mention of his name, and he shook himself as he sat up, almost as If he were agreeing with Jake. This brought more laughter.
“I didn’t say I needed anymore character building. There will be plenty of places to live in the Bay Area. We can all settle there if you want. The bug bombs thinned us out everywhere. I don’t know what we’ll be able to do for a paycheck, or food for that matter. At least we’ll be together, and we’ll be warm.”
“True,” Peter agreed, “but really Jack, what the heck do you think there will be to do for money?”
“Good question, Peter,” Jack admitted. “I guess we’ll have to take it slow and see what kind of work we can scrounge up. If there’s still a barter system going, I have a stash of gold and silver at the shop we can share.”
“Do you really think it will still be there, Uncle Jack,” Debbie asked.
“I booby trapped the shop before I left for the mountains. I boarded it up pretty well, Deb. Besides, the bug bombs took out a lot of people, like I said. The bad guys might be breaking into the places up in Piedmont, but not over in East Oakland.”
“Food wasn’t easy to get right after the virus hit,” Steve said. “I don’t suppose it could be much easier to get now.”
Jack shrugged. “Pour me another shot, Mitch. You guys are depressing the hell out of me. Any other negative comments, and I think I will head back into the woods.”
Mitch poured everyone another, but only gave the kids half of a shot. Paul raised his glass. “To better times ahead. No Fear.”
“No Fear,” they all echoed Paul’s toast.
“One thing’s for certain,” Jack said as he sipped, “we will have to grow some food, and probably do a couple of hunting trips a month, along with some fishing. With all the lakes, and the good weather, we’ll have it a lot better than we did here in the mountains. There won’t be any stores around, to just walk in, and pick stuff off the shelf for a while.”
“Another good thing,” Mitch added, “the tax system died along with most of the government. It will be a tough thing for what remains in Washington to get that back the way it was.”
Steve laughed. “You have that right, Mitch. With most of the population armed, and mostly battle tested, I don’t think the IRS will be quite so scary.”
“Woe to the tax collectors in these days,” Jack stated. “Besides, what the hell can they collect anyway? I bet most everything has been used up as far as old rations, ammunition, guns, fuel, and clothes. I never considered having to deal with the aftermath of a war like this. They must be a hell of a lot worse off overseas.”
“Fuck them anyway,” Peter chimed in angrily. “The only thing we should do with anyone overseas in the future, should be kick their ass if they mess with us, and leave them the hell alone otherwise.”
�
��Why Peter”, Mitch joked, “you sound like you don’t like the One World Order. Don’t you want to eventually get a membership in the CFR?”
“Right Mitch, I forgot about all that. They’ll never get those conspiracies back on track.”
“Or all of this will make it that much easier for a few people to try, and do what all us kooks were afraid of before,” Jack added seriously. “Martial law can be like taxes - once in place, it’s a bitch to get rid of. The faster people get to work at something, and some form of economy gets back on line, the better. Work and food will make it less likely someone promising goods and services, in return for individual freedoms, can win.”
“My head’s getting tied up in knots thinking about this crap,” Steve complained. “Let’s eat, and save some of this forlorn world shit for another time.”
They walked together to the chow line, scooping up trays and dishes. The server behind the glass expected the usual insults about the mid-rats he was dishing onto their plates.
“This looks good,” Paul remarked, “and hot too.” He looked up at the server. “Damn, do you guys eat like this all the time here?”
Everyone laughed, including the server, but he noticed all of them piled the food onto their plates with gusto. The server noticed only the older looking man, with the scarred face, took smaller portions. The others noticed the smaller portions too, and started to joke with him about it.
“Are you on a diet, Jack,” Mitch asked. “You ate better in the mountains, when all we had was canned shit-rations.”
“I have to break into this easy living step by step. You know I don’t get an appetite for food, unless I kill something to get it.” Jack looked at the server with one of the deadest stares the man had ever seen. The server unconsciously took a step back. Jack’s eyes didn’t blink, and everyone around him fell silent. The mouth turned downward slowly, as an animal’s would, if it were trapped in a corner, or starving to death, with its prey being snatched away. Suddenly he grinned, and his eyes lit up as if in a movie. The others laughed in appreciation.
“Damn Jack,” Steve said in awe, “you are good. Too bad you can’t make money with them looks. We need to revive Hollywood first, and see if they can get the slasher movies back in style. We could live off ol’ Jack here.”
Returning to their table, the group’s spirits were on the rise. Jack put the extra plate he carried down next to Wolf, and watched the dog devour it, while he ate his food slowly, chewing with great deliberation. He watched the others eat, as they joked with each other about being pigs in their eating habits. Wolf finished quickly, and came over to sit contentedly next to Jack, and get petted while Jack finished.
“I think I’ve about had it,” Jack stated. “Wolf and I are going to head to the room, if anyone else feels like being a guide.”
“We’ll all go up in a minute, Dad,” Sarah said. “I guess things about the future will be getting settled tomorrow early. Will you be able to tell us what you learn in the meeting?”
“All of you will know everything I know, as soon as I know it. How much truth they’ll be telling me will be anyone’s guess. I like the Captain, but I know he’ll follow whatever orders they give him. We will have to watch each other’s back, just like always.”
“That sounds ominous Jack,” Steve said. “Did you take a downer pill before you came down, or something?”
“He’s always like this, Steve,” Mitch joined it. “When he starts sounding upbeat, you’ll know we’re in trouble. C’mon old man, we’ll get you up to your room now, so you can rest.”
Jack pulled himself up slowly, and slouched, hunched over, towards the hallway, with Mitch pretending to hold him up. This brought more laughter, and then they were all headed back to their rooms, with Wolf bringing up the rear. The few uniformed and civilian people they passed, gave them a wide birth when they saw Wolf, but he barely acknowledged their presence. They said their good nights, and adjourned to their separate rooms for the night.
“You want some aspirin,” Sarah asked.
“I sure do. I think I’ll need them to get some sleep. My head feels okay, but my ribs will not be pleasant to sleep with. It will be better than outside on the ground though.”
“You won’t believe how different it feels sleeping on a bed, Dad,” Jake said. “I can get used to this.”
“I don’t see why we can’t get used to it. I’m glad we’ll be here for a while. It’ll give us a chance to get used to civilization, before we head out again on our own. I doubt if you two will ever not grab for your weapons, when a strange sound in the night wakes you - on the other hand, I don’t necessarily think that’s a bad thing.” Jack took the aspirin Sarah handed him, and chased it down with the glass of water.
“There are new toothbrushes in the medicine cabinet, along with toothpaste and mouthwash,” Sarah said, as she took the empty cup from her father.
“Sounds good, I probably have vampire bat breath.” Jack went into the bathroom, and when he got out, the kids took their turn. Jack watched them as he sat propped up in bed, with Wolf lying beside him, thinking about the future, and what it could mean now. Each of them came out, and gave him a careful hug, and said goodnight. As he drifted off to sleep, Jack thought of the incredible journey over the last few days to get them all here.
Chapter 15
The Dream and a New Mission
The scream started out as a mere whisper, and then built to a crescendo of abject misery. It undulated in his head as if it had a life of its own. It sounded as familiar as an oft read book. Jack struggled to wake, and find the cause of such horrible suffering, but he couldn’t move. He felt as though he were clamped tightly in a vice. A figure began to swim into view in front of him. A light shone behind it, which made it appear as only a dark outline. It gave voice to a language Jack could only assume to be English; because he could understand the words, but what gave voice to the words, could only be described as if some wet maggot infested growth were given the gift of speech. The words themselves made his heart twist in his chest with terror.
“I’m glad you joined us, Jack. Your children have been trying to wake you for hours, haven’t you children?”
A scream, Jack recognized as coming from Sarah, made him pray out loud for God to take away his hearing forever, and silently willed his heart to stop beating, that he may die and never feel anything ever again. The figure stepped to the side so Jack could see the dark writhing figures, outlined by the light at their back. As his daughter’s voice broke horrendously into an almost cackle of desperation, and hopelessness, he heard Jake’s rise as if to take his sister’s place. The sound reverberated off of the walls around them, and pierced Jack to the core of his being. Jack tried to beg, to plead, and to scream, all to no avail. He could not move, or look away. He felt as if the screams of his tortured children would rend, and blast his soul from his body. He shook silently, trying to add his screams to theirs, and somehow, end this insanity for them all. As if God had finally relented, his scream erupted in waves of anguish and loss.
Something struck him across the face, and he could feel, and finally move. He shook with sorrow, and buried his face in his hands.
“Jack,” Steve yelled, “snap out of it for Christ’s sake. Are you with me pal. Say something. What in the fuck is going on?”
Hands were gripping him from all directions; and as he looked up, he could see the familiar face of his friend in a haze of reality. Wolf lay whining at the end of the bed, as his brothers burst into the room with guns drawn, and murder on their faces. As he looked up from side to side, he saw Peter’s worried face, and then Sarah. She threw her arms around her father’s shaking body, as Jake released his right shoulder, and sat down in front of him.
“Good Lord, that was a bad one,” Jack whispered through quivering lips. “Thank God… it was a dream… a fucked up dream.”
He twisted around to get his feet on the floor. Sarah and Jake bracketed him, as Paul and Mitch went out, and told their kids eve
rything was okay. They holstered the weapons they carried as they returned, standing silently by the bed. Jack could feel the fear in the room. He held on to his nerve with desperation. He stood up, and walked shakily to the bathroom. Jack filled the sink with cold water, which he splashed into his face for the next few minutes. He then dried his face, and wet a towel in the water. Jack wiped the sweat from his body, and then returned to his bed.
Jack looked around at the concerned faces and shrugged. He grinned finally. “I don’t know what to say. Mix up an old geezer, booze, and too much relaxation, and my mind blew a fuse, I guess.”
“First off,” Paul said, “you wrangled the attention of the whole floor. Secondly, how the hell did this one-legged bunghole get here before Mitch and me?”
“Why you no good, needle dicked, little…” Steve choked back a laugh. “I could move faster than you two without either of my legs. Besides, I got to smack him upside the head. You two are family, and I wanted to spare you having to do it.”
“Hell,” Mitch joked, “I’d take a shot at him now if he didn’t look so fucking pathetic. Take care, Jack, I’m going to get some sleep, and I suggest you do the same, only without the night terrors, huh?” He started towards the door with Paul, Steve, and Peter following close behind.
“Hey,” Jack called out, as they turned to his voice. “Thanks.”
They nodded, or smiled quietly and left, leaving an even louder silence behind. Wolf had come back to lay his head in Jack’s lap, as Jack had slipped under the covers. No one spoke, as Sarah and Jake watched their Dad with increasing apprehension. He stared silently down at Wolf, and stroked the dog’s head. “That’s civilization for you. I guess I made a fool out of myself tonight. I must have been hell-a-loud to get everyone here.”
“It wasn’t only the loudness, Dad. Your scream sounded like the wounded guy in the clearing, only worse.” Jake shook his head. “I hope I never hear anything like that again. Was it really just a nightmare?”
American Survival (DeLeo's Action Thriller Singles Book 5) Page 17