Conflict (Crossover Series)

by Socha, Walt

  Silence. Joe stood in place, rotating back and forth in a slow arc, pistol at arm’s length. Larry rode in a tight circle with his sword held out in his right hand, his ax in his left. Both dripping red.

  “Reloading.” Hands shaking, Joe emptied his revolver of spent shells.

  Larry cantered over and stood guard as Joe reloaded. “Kids disappeared into the trees.”

  “Check bodies,” Joe said. “Confirm dead. I’ll cover.” “What about any wounded?” Larry asked.

  With his skin clammy and his gut hollow, Joe met Larry’s eyes. “We got kids to find.”

  Larry nodded, dismounted, and moved from one fallen body to another. His sword plunged into each. Making sure.

  Joe followed his movements with his pistol, forcing his hands steady.

  One warrior was playing dead, and his stone knife added another dent to Larry’s greaves. Joe’s bullet took him in the head.

  Silence again.

  “We’re missing a couple, maybe more.” Joe’s body shook as bile rose in this throat.

  “And all of the kids.”

  “Go back and bring Alta. If she’s here, they may come out of hiding.”

  Larry started to object.

  “I’ll stay in the open. But if you see Snark, bring her back. Rifle cartridges are in the saddle bags.”

  “On it.” Larry remounted and rode off.

  After Larry left, Joe gazed at the carnage and his stomach heaved. He staggered and retched, the faces of the dead flashing across his memory. This was way worse than the first time. That had been almost pure reflex, pure response. This had been deliberate.

  After the stomach spasms stopped, he scanned the area. He stood in the approximate middle of the meadow. Individual trees towered at the edges, maybe 200 yards away. Beyond that, the dense forest cut off sight.

  “Hello,” he called out, using Alta’s language. “I am friend.” His voice sounded weak.

  He waited. Nothing. A shiver coursed through his body. He could almost feel eyes watching him.

  “I will protect you,” he called, moving away from the dead warriors. Hopefully the children wouldn’t scatter too far before Alta got here. The sight of one of their own should calm them. If the modern clothing didn’t make her seem like an alien. If she was from the burned village. And if so, were her parents back there among the dead?

  After about twenty minutes, Larry returned, leading Snark. Alta rode behind them, tears staining her face. “Mother and Father are dead,” she said through a choked sob. “My uncle...”

  Joe helped her dismount then hugged her as her tears wet his shirt. No words would work.

  “Joe,” Larry said.

  Joe looked up and followed Larry’s gaze. A small boy—maybe in his preteens—stood by a bush a hundred yards away.

  “I need you to be brave,” Joe said to the crying young woman in his arms. “Can you tell that boy over there that we are friends?” He turned Alta in the direction of the small boy.

  Alta screamed a name, shook herself free of Joe, and ran to the boy.

  Joe could only look on as the boy hesitated, and then ran to meet Alta. They hugged, both now crying.

  Movement caught Joe’s eye. “There’s another one.” This one was at the forest edge. He glanced to Larry. “Remember, we may have a couple of missing warriors.” “Maybe I better take the horses a bit away?” Larry asked.

  “Yeah. Load this for me.” Joe picked up the rifle and handed it to Larry.

  Larry moved off, leading Joe’s horse. He stopped a couple hundred yards away at the upper edge of the clearing, a large black frowning man in medieval armor, loading a lever-action rifle.

  Joe glanced to the second child, who was now closer.

  And female.

  Alta called out and the little girl ran to join Alta and the little boy.

  Alta led the boy and girl to Joe. Then she grabbed one of the boy’s hands and then Joe’s hand.

  “Matu, this is Joe,” she said. “Joe is a friend.”

  “Hello Matu,” Joe said.

  Then Alta put Matu’s hand in Joe’s. “Matu is my brother.” Alta’s tears started again.

  “I will protect you.” Joe blinked to clear his own eyes. Then Alta turned to girl. “This is my cousin Sinta.”

  Alta joined Sinta’s hand to Joe’s remaining hand. Then a third child appeared. And a fourth.

  Chapter 15. Day 1, Evening

  It was almost twilight as Joe approached Alta’s village. Smoke still rose from several of the destroyed huts. At the lower end of the clearing next to the small stream, the horses grazed. Several still carried their panniers on their backs. Between the horses and the huts, a tent stood partially erected.

  Beyond the huts, a dark figure on a horse separated itself from the shadow of a tree and waved with his free hand before turning his horse and peering into the distance. Joe blew his whistle once to announce themselves to Kristi. Then frowned as two figures appeared from behind the tent and ran toward him. A dog followed them.

  One looked like Kristi. But he hadn’t seen a living dog when they first entered the village.

  His eyes widened as he recognized the figure accompanying Kristi. Potts. How?

  A child’s cry of alarm from behind Joe broke his confusion. He held up his hand, signaling Kristi and Potts to stop. “Hold up, you’ll scare the kids.” Joe turned and waved Alta forward. With Matu at her side, she led her horse, who carried two of the smaller children. Behind her walked seven other children.

  Kristi gestured to Potts and he walked off to the side calling Zoey who followed after a long glance at the newcomers. Kristi then ran to Alta and took her into her arms. Matu and two of the other children broke away from the others and approached Potts and Zoey with hesitant steps. At Potts’s smile—and Zoey’s wagging tail—they knelt at the dog’s side and reached out their hands. Zoey quivered with excitement at the new playmates.

  The remaining children joined the canine’s admirers. Leaving the children to Zoey’s care, Potts strode Joe and held out his hand.

  “You’re certainly a welcome sight.” Joe grasped Potts’s hand. Surprisingly strong. Or maybe not so surprisingly. “But how and why?”

  “I believe that I once said that you’d need help.” “That’s more true than I would like.” Joe glanced at the ruined village, and then faced Potts again. “Let’s get the kids settled and then we’ll talk.”

  Larry was still out of sight, disposing of the attackers’ bodies.

  ><><

  A sharp bark greeted Joe as he walked into the flickering light of the campfire. Only the adults remained around the fire they’d built between the two canvas wall tents. Young voices, several crying, from the tents confirmed that the children had retired for the night, separated— except for younger siblings—into a boys’ and a girls’ tent. Brent lounged next to Kristi, his hand withdrawing from his holstered pistol. They both sat in camp chairs. Potts leaned against a saddle on the opposite side of the fire with Zoey, thumbing on the safety of the rifle in his hands. The young dog settled down at Potts’s side after she recognized Joe.

  Joe switched off his flashlight and lowered himself next to Potts.

  “Been gone a while.” Brent said. “You do some scouting after Larry relieved you?”

  “Wanted to check along the river while there was still light.” Joe laid a hand on Zoey’s head, giving the terrier-collie mix a brisk ear rub. “Found two smashed canoes. And the skid marks of a third. Prints match the style of moccasins worn by the warriors.”

  “So at least one got away?” Brent frowned. “Yeah.” Joe looked around. “Alta?”

  “She’s settling the children in the tents,” Kristi said. “I suspect she’s trying to be too busy to think.”

  “Probably a good plan.” Joe stared at the tents. “I need to ask if she has any ideas about this kidnapping thing.” “I asked,” Kristi said. “She didn’t know any more than what the White Clay warriors told her when they first visited he
r village. The children you rescued today were too traumatized to talk.”

  “Understandable.” Joe turned to Potts. “And you?” He wore a smile he didn’t feel. “What’s your story?”

  “Thanks for the rifle.” Potts held the rifle in his hands a little higher. “Osker almost stepped on it as we entered the village. I figure it’s the one you lost during your first trip. Or encounter.”

  “I was kind of wondering about it. I had seen shod horse prints that were probably Rosebud’s. And a couple of the dead warriors had crudely bandaged gunshot wounds. Both suggest that my first crossover fitted time-wise into this one. Finding that rifle just confirms that idea.” Joe gave Zoey another brisk scratch. “But your story?”

  “I figured you all were planning something. Everyone was way secretive. So we just made our own plans. Me and Zoey here.” Potts’s right hand moved down to stroke the dog’s head. He looked out into the dark in the direction of the horses. “And Osker.”

  “How’d you know when we left?” asked Brent. “Zoey woke me.” Potts chuckled. “We stayed about a mile behind. Got a bit weirded out when I lost you in the fog.” He frowned. “Mist. Whatever.”

  He paused. “Even more weirded out when Alta spoke to me and I understood her.”

  “I certainly appreciate your presence.” Joe felt even more weight settle on his shoulders. This was his nightmare. “But why?”

  “Hey, I’m sixty-six.” Potts frowned. “Did the Wall Street thing. Got rich. Did the marriage and divorce thing. Went broke. A bit too much alcohol and stuff. Ended up in oriental philosophy and the culinary arts.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Figured you’d need a Buddhist cook more than the ranch did.”

  No one spoke for several minutes.

  “What are we going to do for food?” Potts asked. “All that dehydrated stuff we brought will only cover about a month,” Brent said. “But there’s enough undamaged jerked fish, dried squash, beans, and corn in the village to last until we can grow our own food. And the villagers had already planted this year’s crop. I noticed seedlings emerging.”

  “Brent was a bit upset,” Kristi said, “when he realized we had been carrying bodies through the middle of one of those vegetable plots.”

  Joe cleared his throat. “Shit, there’s no way I could have handled this without you all.” He certainly wouldn’t have been able to rescue the abducted children.

  Kristi’s eyes flicked from one tent to the other. “We’ll need some sort of ceremony to bring closure for the children.”

  “You know anything about that?” Brent asked, eyes on Joe. “You did recognize that the low mound was for burials.”

  “Did some anthropology in school before settling for engineering,” Joe looked over his shoulder into the dark. Toward the small mound on which they had laid out the victims. The small fires they had built were still going. He’d need to build them up soon to keep away the scavengers.

  “Didn’t realize I’d be combining both,” he said. “It’ll take an entire day to cover the bodies. Maybe add in whatever unbroken tools and belongings we can find and can do without.” He paused. “I’ll check with Alta in the morning and find out what they believe.” His mouth tightened. “Or believed.”

  Joe looked at each of his companions. “Then maybe each of us can say some words.”

  “I’ll practice a few sentences,” Brent said. “It’s pretty weird doing this language thing. But I’m getting better at forming the sounds in my head. And at understanding more complex sentences.”

  “When did you realize you understood Alta’s language?”

  “As soon as we cleared the mist.”

  “Talk as much as you can,” Joe said. “I can feel new words getting hard to say and understand. I’m thinking it’s a short term effect.”

  “Use it or lose it?” Potts said.

  “Yeah.” Joe glanced around the fire. “This trip has sure turned to shit.”

  “Can we return home?” Kristi asked.

  Joe sat, gazing into the fire. “I don’t know.” He looked up. “At first light, I’ll retrace our tracks. See what I can see.”

  “If we can’t?” Brent pushed the unburnt end of a log further into the fire with a stick.

  “Then I’m thinking we should probably move to a safer location. Someplace easier to defend and where it’s easier to protect the horses.”

  “Something like a long, wide valley with a narrow entrance?” Brent said.

  “Yeah. But first, if I don’t see anything in the morning, we’ll do right with the village’s dead,” Joe said. “The day after, I’ll start surveying the region. Maybe even figure out where the hell we are.” Joe stared into the fire. Could he handle this?

  He looked up at his friends. Hadn’t really had real friends before. Being orphaned at six years old inhibited early school type friendships. His social skills certainly hadn’t been developed by grandparents who had almost completely withdrawn from the modern world. And in high school and college, the interests of his acquaintances had just seemed trivial.

  “Joe, you getting all mental on us?” Brent interrupted Joe’s reverie.

  Joe was saved from answering by the sounds of booted footsteps approaching from the dark.

  “It’s me,” said Larry in a booming whisper.

  He entered the firelight and detoured to brush one huge hand over Zoey’s head before he took a place on the ground next to Brent. He leaned against his own saddle and removed a pair of oversized goggles from his head.

  “Brent, can you handle your watch a bit early?” Larry handed over the goggles. “I’m wiped.”

  “You’re covered,” Brent said. “I’m way too wired to sleep anyway.” He shortened the straps of the goggles. “These work okay for you?”

  “No problem. Much the same as the units I used in the Gulf. But I screwed up by looking at the fires around the mound. Overloaded the infrared sensors for several seconds. Then I was okay.”

  After Brent left, Joe updated Larry on the plans for the next two days.

  “You got it, boss.” Larry leaned back on one of the saddles they were using as backrests. There were more camp chairs somewhere in the baggage, but they hadn’t taken time to find them with the children to care for.

  “What’s this ‘boss’ stuff ?” Joe asked.

  “Just that.” Larry wore a thin smile. “You the man.

  The only one with a clue about what’s going on.”

  Joe stared at the big guy. Yeah, Joe was responsible for their being here. But knowing what was going on? He thought back to the original trip up into Red Wash, and the encounter with Alta’s attacker. The interview with the sheriff. He frowned. Could this have anything to do with the deaths of the medicine elders?

  Movement by Larry drew his attention to the present.

  The big guy had his face in his hands.

  “Hey, you did what you had to do today.” Joe knew he’d also be dreaming dead bodies tonight.

  “Hell with those jerks. It’s the little girl we found on the trail while tracking ‘em.” Larry rubbed his face. “With her skull smashed in.”

  Joe had carried the little girl’s body back himself.

  And laid her on the mound.

  Larry stared at the fire. “I was scared until I saw her body,” he said. “After that, I looked forward to killing those fucks. That scares me even more.”

  Joe remembered his own flash of satisfaction cutting through the horror as he’d pulled the trigger on those men. “Killed a kid while I was deployed as a medic in the Middle East,” said Larry after a long minute. “Was carrying a wounded buddy over my shoulder after a firefight. Pistol in my free hand. Kid popped out of a doorway. I fired without thinking. Blew the kid’s head open.”

  Joe watched the fire for another long minute. What could he say to that kind of experience? He could only stick to the here and now. “Hey, I’m sorry.” He glanced at his friend. “And today, we did what we had to.”

  “Kid’s head exploded like
a melon.” Larry stared at the fire for what seemed a long time. “So nobody fucks with young’uns around me.”

  Joe watched his friend’s facial muscles twitch as he stared into the flickering flames. Killing faceless soldiers was bad enough; stuffing out the life of innocent child would be hell to live with. No wonder he was so kid focused.

  “Thanks for being here,” Kristi said to Larry. After a long silence she rose. “I’d better call it a night. I’ll be with the girls in case there are any nightmares. Or if they can’t sleep.”

  “Never got around to erecting my tent, so I got my bag just inside the boys’ tent.” Larry also rose. “Maybe being around ‘em will settle me.” He looked across the fire. “Potts?”

  “Me and Zoey will stay under the stars for now.” Potts scratched behind Zoey’s ear. “Want to make sure they’re the same ones after that sliver of a moon sets. Although Brent will probably have a better idea about that.”

  “Well at least the moon looks the same. I’ll just snooze here.” Joe watched Kristi detour a few steps to squeeze Larry on the shoulder before turning toward the girls’ tent. Joe turned to face the trail on which they had entered Alta’s village. Somehow...

  He looked back at the fire and doubted that he’d get any sleep. Besides Alta, he now had ten children to worry about. Children without parents. Images of his own lonely childhood surfaced. Joe shook the loneliness away. His lack of family was irrelevant now. Getting these children somewhere safe was the priority.

  Chapter 16. Day 2

  Joe returned to camp to find that a breakfast of granola mixed into a porridge of dried squash was a hit with the subdued children.

  “Did you see anything?” Alta handed Joe one of the stainless steel bowls and a spoon then returned to her seat.

  “The prints just ended. Eerie. The sun easily burned off the morning fog.” Joe puffed out a long breath. “Did see more of Rosebud’s hoofprints from my first encounter.” He glanced at Alta who just stared back. After a long minute, he broke eye contact and held out the bowl to Potts, who squatted next to the large kettle hanging over the fire. “And no dreams last night.” Joe paused. “Not even of yesterday. At least nothing I can remember.”