Flight To Pandemonium

by Murray, Edward

  The Captain was speechless; why was the youngster pressing a confrontation he couldn’t possibly win? Shortly, Jack provided the answer. “There’s more of ‘em flanking us through the woods!” he bellowed. “Captain! Down NOW…” The Captain dropped prostrate.

  Jack’s commands were overwhelmed by staccato rounds aimed at the Captain. With his special sniper rifle braced on a tire, Jack shot both outriders despite the cover of their motorcycles. Mac shot the sergeant with his automatic rifle as the man drew his pistol. He collapsed on the pavement.

  Tony fired into each motorcycle; one burst into flames, the other two flew to pieces. Frantic shouts came from the trees. Two hillside flankers fired prematurely, missing widely. One ran into the woods and ducked down among a cluster of spruce trees in poor cover. Jack took careful aim and shot him as he peered through the foliage. The other disappeared.

  Tony bellowed, “More of ‘em comin’! Both sides!” Those below the road couldn’t be seen, but those above were exposed. Jack watched another militiaman sprint across a clearing, then realizing his jeopardy, ducked behind spruce trees. Jack shot the man where he knelt.

  Another rifleman pulled up short and hid behind the trunk of a hardwood tree. Jack carefully scoped the tree. The man peered around the tree taking a quick look and ducked back. But the visor of his cap remained visible, so Jack aimed for the bark of the tree just below the visor. The bark exploded in a shower of splinters. The man collapsed falling backward.

  In the silence that ensued, everyone heard a voice commanding action from below the road. None of the militia could be seen any longer. Tony left his cover and raced for the cat while Jack blindly fired several rounds leaning over the guardrail, then yelled, “Cap! Let’s go! Let’s go! Now!”

  The Captain, prostrate all the while, jumped up and ran while Tony started the cat. Jack emptied his rifle randomly over the rail, raced for the moving cat, and swung on board.

  A militiaman hiding beneath the bridge abutment rose and leaped onto the tongue of the tanker, standing on the spare tire. With their backs to him, the miners were unaware of the danger. Mac caught a glimpse, dropped his rifle, grabbed a shotgun, and leaned over the seat shroud aiming at the man. At the same moment, Tony put full power to the cat causing Mac to lose his balance falling spread eagled on the furled bimini fabric. Recovering, he raised the shotgun, but couldn’t see his target. Knowing he was fully exposed to flankers, Mac ducked and waited.

  His adversary mounted the smooth engine housing of the cat. Rifle slung over his shoulder, he gripped with both hands as Mac stood up. Mac shot the daring militiaman who collapsed across the engine cover. Mac ducked into the foot well.

  Tony drove straight for the blockade, braking only as he crashed into the barrier. The chain parted and the vee-blade hurled wrecks, one landing precariously on top of the blade.

  Mac rose, peering over the seat shroud to be sure his adversary hadn’t recovered, but didn’t see him. Looking back through a cloud of diesel fuel erupting from the tanker, he spotted two men far across the bridge shooting automatic rifles. Mac felt a shocking wallop to his head and then nothing at all.

  38

  Visitor’s Cabin, Yukon River Bridge, October 21st. Ernie tumbled to the floor from his cot, yelping in pain. Christie and Lazlo rushed to his aid. “Let’s have another look at those ribs, dear man,” said Christie. “Lie back and let me see.” The rib cage looked better. She gently but firmly ran her fingers over his ribs until he winced. “Hurt there,” she asked?

  “More around back than right there.”

  “Can you turn over for me?”

  He complied and she poked again until she detected swelling near his spine. “Ernie, I should have checked this long ago. I think you have a rib out of place. Feel it there?” She pushed gently and Ernie winced. “I’m going to inject some muscle relaxant, then after awhile I’ll try to push the rib into place. Your back muscles are really tense. Okay?”

  Christie noticed the back of Ernie’s legs looked disfigured. Lying face down on the cot clad only in briefs, his legs appeared to have been injured long ago. His left leg was worse, missing normal calf musculature. Numerous surgical scars covered the leg in a ragged line extending from the heel to the line of his briefs. A zippered line of inept sutures crisscrossed many others. Subordinate musculature had enlarged to compensate for the loss of his primary flexor muscle.

  “Ernie, should I know about your legs; did they contribute to your fall just now?”

  “Yes. Happens when I move wrong. You’d think I’d learn by now. Not much more anyone can do, but that’s why I had such a hard time swimming. I’ve been under the knife five times over the years. Just hope nothing breaks down out here. Took out lots of metal in my left leg. Had a great orthopedic guy fix my leg years later. It’s held up for a long time, but when it gets cold, I know it… that’s why the cane.”

  “If you’d told me… we might have helped.”

  “I don’t talk about it. I wouldn’t be any use in the field if I whimpered every time my leg bothers me. The office wouldn’t trust me to go into the bush for years. Later, they feared my lawyer more than my injuries. Really got in the way of my career, though… and any promotion.”

  “Job accident?”

  “Naw, nothing like that. Rocket grenade in Afghanistan …then a road mine.”

  “Wow! That explains it,” said Christie tactlessly.

  “Explains what?”

  “I’m sorry. That was a thoughtless comment. I should have known better.”

  “You must mean my ugly scars. You aren’t the first one to notice. I drew some virgin surgeon drafted right out of medical school into field medivac. Moron… his third day on the job and scared to death. I was lucky, though… so many others died from the dirty tricks. The new recruits were just so damn green and ignorant of war injuries.”

  “Dirty tricks… at the hospital?” she asked.

  “No, no… not there. The jihadi packed pig shit around the mines when they buried them. Gotcha one way or another. The second time I got hit, there were thirty grunts ahead of me. The place was chaos. Later, they realized their mistake. My young surgeon hadn’t been trained yet.

  “The kid sliced my whole leg open to pick out pieces of metal and seat cushion. Didn’t realize that some of it wasn’t stuffing and spread toxin all over.”

  “Pig dung… E-coli toxin?”

  “You got it. Wish he had. Woke up in a hospital stateside and I didn’t remember the ride home. They had to remove most of my calf and told me that I was lucky at that. Had to learn how to walk all over again. Sorry… see, I talk too much. Long time ago.”

  “Well Ernie, you must trust me. It’s time to see what I can do.” When Ernie nodded, she placed her palms precisely on his back and gave a mighty heave. The pop was audible as the rib homed. Ernie sighed and sat up.

  “Christie… you’re marvelous. I feel better already… much better.”

  “You might not when that injection wears off. I’ll give you something more.”

  “How about some hot tea, instead? I’d fix it myself, but…”

  “Just lie back. I’ll fix tea.”

  While Christie prepared the tea, she remembered something that Ernie said, but was reluctant to bring up the matter again. Ernie, however, was still in a mood for conversation. With Lazlo, they sat together around the barrel stove sipping sugared tea.

  “Ernie, I’m going to brave another question if you’re still willing to talk.”

  “Sure, I’m game.”

  “If you stepped on a mine, what did pieces of seat cushion have to do with your injuries?”

  “Oh, I didn’t step on it or I’d have lost both my legs… or worse. The mine exploded under the seat of my truck… a cluster mine buried in the road intended for drivers like me. I wasn’t infantry; I was tr
ansportation… a remf.”

  “You said you were injured twice. What happened the first time?”

  “Have you ever heard of an RPG… rocket propelled grenade?”

  “Sounds somehow familiar, but…” replied Christie.

  “It’s a bomb on a pipe rocket… nasty thing. One blew up beside my deuce.”

  “Weren’t you hurt then?”

  “Sure… but not nearly as badly and I had much better medical treatment the first time. I got three weeks furlough in Japan and thought I had my ticket home. But, they sent me right back and I got hit again a week later on the same damned road.”

  Lazlo was chastising himself for thinking so badly of Ernie.

  “Remf? What’s that mean?” he asked.

  “Sorry… with apologies, Christie… means ‘rear echelon mother fucker.’ You mustn’t have seen military service. How’d a strapping guy like you beat the draft?”

  “Draft ended before it got to me, thankfully,” replied Lazlo then asked, “Ernie, if you were in transportation, you must know something about military vehicles. Right?”

  “Drove a deuce in the desert for two years. Hauled, towed, repaired, or deployed almost everything that counted in the book. Even slept in it most nights… had to be ready for anything in that chaos. But that was way back. Things have changed and I didn’t want to hear another word about military duty or the screwed up Middle East.”

  “That’s way more than I know. I’m working on a plan. Can we talk about it in the morning?”

  “Sure… but let’s have a look around first. I’m feeling much better. I’m sure there must be more to this deployment than meets the eye.”

  “How so?” asked Lazlo.

  “Just from the kind of equipment stacked around this building,” said Ernie waving his arm, “and what’s stored in here.”

  “Tells you what?”

  “Must have been lots of grunts bivouacked here.”

  “Why would that matter now?”

  “Might find much better gear if we look.”

  “Think they left it all behind?”

  “As I said… they never left,” said Ernie

  “Well, I haven’t seen a single corpse,” replied Lazlo.

  “You can bet they didn’t pitch them in the river, either. Not the Army way.”

  “You keep saying ‘Army.’ Wasn’t this a National Guard camp?” asked Lazlo. “I thought the Army never mixed it up with civilians.”

  “You’re right. Army grunts and civilians aren’t buddies. Not popular with the brass, either, and seldom happened. But this was definitely regular Army, not the Guard. Might have been paranoia over the pipeline and quarantine. But that’s good for us. They’re organized and much better equipped. They’re set up here somewhere… or were anyway.”

  “Alright… in the morning, then. You’ve got me curious.”

  When the men declared their intention to look around, Christie announced that she was going to take a warm bath. She asked them to fetch and heat fresh water before they departed. After that, the cabin was to be off limits for an hour.

  Puppy would remain with her. She always confronted any perceived threat.

  Lazlo and Ernie headed to the bridge to check their hanging cache of frozen meat. Grizzly bear tracks covered the shoreline and long scratches marked where a bear had attempted to climb onto the pipeline. Lazlo was pleased with his rigging still holding their cache untouched high above the water.

  Ernie kept pace untroubled by his injured back. Shortly, they were standing at the blockade looking at the lead truck with its mounted gun.

  “Is this a ‘deuce’ you were referring to?”

  “Modern version with only six wheels, but similar… and with a swivel 50 caliber machine gun. Fine truck… only the best for the Army,” grinned Ernie fondly.

  “I’m thinking we should use this truck instead of the snowmobile, but there’s a major problem I need to show you. We have to cross a low wall to get there.”

  “I’ll manage.”

  Lazlo guided Ernie to the yawning gap. The churning ice blocks looked larger and more impressive without the veiled fog. “Even if we could cross this somehow, we’d probably be on foot from then on,” he said. “But if we wait till freeze up, Christie tells me we could cross with the snowmobile.”

  “But you want the deuce, instead?” asked Ernie.

  “Definitely. Could we do it?”

  “If the ice is thick enough… sure. Steep bank on the far side, but I could manage that. But look at all those cars and trucks lined up over there; they will be a problem.”

  “Would the ice be thick enough to cross?” Lazlo’s mind was working on crossing the ice, not plague cars.

  “Pro’bly, but that’s a heavy truck even without a load. If it broke through some weak spot… well, there wouldn’t be much warning.”

  “Yea… and the driver wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance under the ice, either.”

  “Maybe no one has to be driving… just idle across in granny. We used that trick when we thought there might be mines in the road. We’d follow behind, stepping only on our own tire tracks.”

  “Aaah… the old Hungarian smuggler’s trick crossing the Soviet border. New driver would wait on the far side watching for trouble. No one was exposed that way. We could ferry the gear and ourselves across on the sled, then load on the far side…. even carry the snowmobile along with us in case.”

  “Sounds like a plan. But Laz, where the hell are we going anyway?”

  “After hearing your story… I don’t know.”

  “Sounds to me like you’ve just been on the run.”

  “Well I’ll admit, with those hairy military patrols, I just wanted outta there.”

  “Deadhorse? You still owe me your story. But I’m listening.”

  “Christie would agree with you, but I’ve settled down some.”

  “Where’s home?”

  “Seattle.”

  “Long way off. That where you’re headed?”

  “I was at first, but now… not likely… maybe never.”

  “So for now, wherever the road takes you. Am I right?”

  “I suppose you are.”

  “And Christie?”

  “We’re together, wherever we decide to go.”

  “Lucky man. And me?” asked Ernie, somewhat too casually.

  “Join us if you wish,” replied Lazlo. “I hope you will.”

  “Three’s a crowd.”

  “Only threesome I’ve seen in a month.”

  “I’ll take that as acceptance. I haven’t been sure I would be welcome.”

  “Ernie… I’ll cut to the quick. I won’t appreciate competition as far as Christie is concerned, but I’d sure welcome your help and your company.”

  “Well, old boy, I don’t think you understand yet. I’m definitely not going to be competition. She’s solidly with you, man. Maybe you ought to be as candid with her as you are with me.”

  “I’ll find the right moment for the music,” said Lazlo flippantly.

  “Then pretend I’m not around, but fair warning… I’ll try to pick up the pieces if it comes to that,” replied Ernie.

  “Then I guess we have an understanding.”

  “I’m not sure we do.”

  “Yea?”

  “Forget Seattle… you can’t get there from here. Not with Christie on your arm.”

  “You always so blunt?”

  “I just want to know where we’re going. We’re back full circle.”

  “Hey, you gotta know this road leads to Fairbanks,” replied Lazlo.

  “After that?” asked Ernie gently and sincerely.

  “Somewhere to settle down, I guess…hopefully to meet
others who think like us.”

  “That’s what I needed to hear you say. We’ve got to get a life back. My head’s been pretty dark recently. I need a spark of hope.”

  “Well that’s not likely to happen in this hoary God forsaken camp.”

  “Then let’s talk to Christie tonight,” said Ernie.

  “Good thought. She’s solid.”

  “Let’s finish our tour.”

  The early morning breeze swept away the low river fog. For the first time, Lazlo could see a group of buildings far west of the highway. When he pointed to them, Ernie said, “That’s an old pipeline construction camp, converted to a trucker’s garage and boat works. But look what’s there now… more Army vehicles inside a wire perimeter. And there’s a radio antenna on a snag in that clump of trees. There’s our Army headquarters… gotta be.”

  Once inside the coils of concertina wire, Lazlo and Ernie wandered among military vehicles, humvees, and trucks parked in orderly rows. Ernie climbed into one and turned the starter.

  The engine ground slowly but didn’t start.

  “Arctic cold getting to these batteries?” asked Lazlo.

  “I was deployed in the Middle East, remember? I worried about hot, so I wouldn’t know.”

  Nearby, a hefty tracked vehicle caught Lazlo’s attention. He asked, “What about that one? Looks like those tracks could really get around in the snow.”

  “Yea, but I don’t know a thing about that one,” replied Ernie. “If it broke down, I’d only be guessing. I prefer the deuce. I could fix that in my sleep.”

  “I wonder if we should add a Humvee, just in case.”

  “Why don’t we finish looking around before we jump to conclusions? From the looks of things, I think a whole company was deployed here.”

  “Lead the way; you know what you’re looking at.”

  They found an old building partitioned into two sections, a small rustic office attached to a large truck garage and a shop. While the shop was intact with another deuce parked inside, the garage had been converted to a kitchen and mess hall. With a dozen long tables lined up in front of a serving line, the room looked immaculate, ready to serve meals.