Joshua (Book 2): Traveler

by John S. Wilson

“I promised I would never tell.”

  “If you’re really our friend, you will tell us. Come on.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Come on, James ...”

  After a few more moments of all those stares weighing heavy on him, the boy’s resolve was at long last gone, “Mark and Sarah Whitman.”

  “They live in that town?”

  “Yeah ...” The boy wouldn’t look at him, instead staring at the ground.

  “Where exactly do they live?”

  “At Chestnut and Main, there’s an old brick building on the corner. It’s three stories tall and there was a pharmacy on the first floor, and there were apartments above that.”

  “Yes, I remember the drug store, we searched it real well. It was burned out and the stairs to the second floor were destroyed too. They’d completely collapsed. Are you saying they live above it?”

  “Yes, the first two floors are trashed, they live on the third floor.”

  “So how do they get in and out?”

  “They have a rope ladder they lower from a window down to the ground.”

  “This is hard to believe. How did you ever find them?”

  “I didn’t; they found me. I was searching that pharmacy too and as I was leaving Sarah yelled out. I guess she felt sorry for me. I probably looked pretty pathetic; I hadn’t eaten in three days. They dropped the ladder and let me climb up. They searched me for weapons, though, I’m sure that was Mark’s idea. They gave me a meal and let me sleep there last night. This morning they fed me again but said they couldn’t help me no more. They said I had to go. They gave me that soup and made me promise I wouldn’t tell anyone about them. When I made that promise I thought I could keep it.”

  “It’s okay, James, you tried.”

  “You’re going to rob them, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, we are. Does that bother you?”

  “Yes ...”

  “Have you ever stolen from people, James?”

  “Yes ... but I never hurt anyone.”

  “Taking their food, that’s not hurting them?”

  “You know what I meant. You’re going to hurt them.” The boy continued to gaze at his frayed tennis shoes, the tears coming again.

  “James, look at me ...” Robert waited until the boy grudgingly stared up at him, “I want you to know we’re not going to hurt them, unless they try to hurt us. It’s one of our codes.”

  “Codes?”

  “We have codes we live by, James. When we join this group, we take an oath; if you decide to join us, you’ll take it too. One of our codes is that we never hurt anyone if we don’t have to. Unless your friends decide to fight us, I promise you they won’t be hurt.”

  “You promise.”

  “I promise ... so tell me all you know about them.”

  “I don’t know anything else.”

  “Sure you do, you probably don’t even know how much you do know. You’re sure it was just the two of them? How long were you there?”

  “I was there over twelve hours. I didn’t see or hear anyone else the whole time. I’m sure it was just them.”

  “Do they have some kind of alarm, or maybe a dog? Do they have any kind of animal that might warn them?”

  “No, I don’t remember any animals, or alarms.”

  “Do they have guns?”

  “Yes ... Mister Whitman had three I could see.”

  “What kind?”

  “I don’t know anything about guns.”

  “Come on, James, describe them to me.”

  “Well, the one he carried around with him most of the time was a shotgun ... I’m pretty sure of that. He kept calling it his ‘twelve gauge.’ He had a handgun too, in a holster on his belt. I didn’t get a good look at it though.”

  “Was it a pistol or revolver?”

  “A revolver, maybe, he never took it out.”

  “You said there was a third gun, what was it?”

  “Another long gun, maybe a rifle, maybe another shotgun, I don’t know. He had it standing in the corner next to the window facing Main Street.”

  “You don’t know what it was?”

  “It must have been a rifle because I think I remember it had a scope on it.”

  “Okay, James, is there anything else you remember, any other kind of weapons like knives, or maybe a bow and arrows? Did they have any kind of booby traps on the windows or doors? Did they have a lot of food?”

  “I saw some kitchen knives, but nothing else, no traps either. They had plenty of food though. Their kitchen cabinets and counters are crammed full, their closets too. Lots of store bought canned stuff and home canned to boot, you know, in those glass jars with a metal lid. It makes me hungry thinking of it all. I was so disappointed when they only gave me that one can of soup. I thought they were going to give me a whole lot more.”

  “Okay, James, you’ve done good. Hasn’t he, guys?”

  James felt a little bit better when everyone agreed and gathered around to give him a few pats on the back.

  Robert sat there in the dappled light of the fire and thought about it a moment, then he turned to John Alton. “Alton, I want you to do some reconnaissance. Pick two guys and head out early in the morning. I want you there before the sun comes up. Watch the place all day and come back tomorrow night and give us a report.”

  Without delay Alton stood up and looked around, “We’re going have to leave early if we’re going to get there and find a good observation spot all before sunrise. D’Cruz ... Cornwell, you’re with me. Get some sleep, we’ll be getting up at three hundred hours.”

  After that the group broke up and started making their beds, except for McCain who had the first watch.

  Robert was making his own bed when he noticed the boy still sitting by the fire, watching everyone else getting comfortable for the night. “James, you don’t have a sleeping bag, do you? Not even a blanket?”

  “No ... a couple stole mine about two weeks ago. They stole my good pair of shoes too. Don’t worry about me though, it’s not so cold, I’ll just sit here by the fire.”

  Rob went right to a large two-wheeled cart there at the edge of their camp. It was an odd-looking thing filled to the top with all the pilfered valuables they had stolen through the years. Affixed to the back was a large plastic drum that held the group’s water supply and strapped along each side were two long stout poles. James would later discover they were there so the men could carry it on their shoulders when the terrain was bad, or if they needed to move in a hurry.

  He rummaged through it a few moments then quickly returned with something under his arm. “James, here’s a sleeping bag. It’s not much to look at, but it will keep you warm. I want you to have it ...”

  “For tonight?”

  “No, you can keep it. I want you to have this whether you stay with us or not.”

  With a smile, James lay out next to his new friend, kicked off his dirty shoes and settled in too. Just as he was falling asleep a nudge to his side woke him again.

  “James, I forgot to tell you something. You remember when we came here this afternoon and there were those trip wires we had to step over?”

  “Yes ...”

  “You don’t know where they are, and you’ll never see them in the dark. You probably don’t know what to look for anyway. If you’ve got to piss later just go in that open area right over there. Don’t go anywhere near the trees; we’ve got so many trip wires around us you’re bound to set one off.”

  Later in the morning the boy woke again, and now he had to go. He looked around in the dim light from the dying fire. Martinelli was on guard now, sitting there watching him, and Alton and his men were long gone. He thought about getting up and relieving himself but just couldn’t, instead deciding to wait for daylight and go behind a tree. James lay there wide awake the rest of the morning, holding his urine until the sun came up.

  That next day they waited for their team to return but still had many things to do. McCain, Peavey, and Rudd went
out to observe a nearby road. Many of their best leads would come from refugees they caught wandering the highways.

  The rest stayed in camp as there was work here too. Checking their traps and regular maintenance on the weapons, cooking, even their guest found he had some chores of his own as it was only his first meal that was free.

  James spent most of the day boiling water he had to haul from a nearby stream. Making thirty gallons of sanitized water was quite a job when he could only carry five gallons at a time.

  By dark the men started returning; Martinelli was cooking and had them all a hot meal ready as McCain and his guys walked into camp. McCain said, “The pickings were thin today.” About ten minutes behind him Alton and his men came wandering in. After they were all fed, Alton pulled a tablet out and everyone encircled him there by the fire.

  “Okay, Boss, this is how it looks. First, James’s intel was right on the money.”

  James found himself the recipient of a few more friendly pats on the back.

  Alton began pointing out features on the handmade maps on his pad, “It took us to nearly daylight to find some good observation spots, but we did find some. I hid in an old flower shop, right here,” he pointed it out with his pen, “on the other side of Main, about twenty-five meters north and east of the drugstore. It’s probably the best observation spot near the building. I had D’Cruz set up down the street on the west side. I sent Cornwell the other way, one block south and east so he could watch the back of the building.”

  Alton continued to point landmarks out on his map and then Rob interrupted as he handed him a fresh cup of freeze dried coffee. “Were you able to confirm what James told us, it’s only the two of them?”

  “I would have to agree with that. We were there thirteen hours and the two of them were all we heard or saw. If there’s anyone else they must be in a coma because we didn’t hear one other peep.”

  “Okay, tell us about the layout.”

  “It’s just like James said. They’re in that old brick three story on the corner and they’re dug in real good.”

  “How many ways in?”

  “There’s two windows each facing north and west. As far as I could determine they are the only way in ... or out. The south and east sides of the building have no windows at all. That east side has another building next door and a narrow alley between them.”

  “Could we climb to the windows from the roof of that building?”

  “No, it’s only one story tall and it just can’t be done.”

  “What about coming at them from underneath?”

  “I thought of that too, late in the day I snuck in through the back door to confirm what I already thought.”

  “Which is?”

  “That you can’t get at them that way either, there’s just too much junk to get through. There is a door where the top of the staircase was but it’s nearly impossible to get to. It might be conceivable to get at them that way ... but there’s no way to do it quickly, or quietly.”

  “We’ve still got some bug bombs, think they might work?”

  “I thought of that too, I don’t think they would work either. You would have to throw them close from the street into a third-story window. Trying to put one through a small window from fifteen ... twenty meters away, and probably with someone shooting back at you, not much chance of success. Just going to waste them ... and get one of our guys killed.”

  “How about throwing them into the drugstore underneath?”

  “Again, not much chance of success, I doubt the fumes would even get to the third floor.”

  “Okay, so what’s your opinion, how would you do it?”

  “Well, Boss, there’s only two ways as far as I can see. Like I said, they’re dug in pretty good. So we’re either going to have to wait them out, or we could try a Trojan Horse, but I don’t really want to put Nicky in danger.”

  “Well, we agree on that. I’m not going to send Nicky up there. I’m sure he could talk himself in ...” Robert stopped and ruffled the mop of hair on the smiling boy at his side, “but that husband sounds very cautious. James looks harmless enough and he searched him. He would probably search Nicky too ... and what if he got caught trying to lower the ladder down? That could turn into an ugly situation, quickly.”

  “Yep, that’s how I saw it too.”

  “Okay, so you think we should wait them out. How long are we going to have to wait? Did they even come out when you were there?”

  Alton finally took a sip of his coffee, “No, they didn’t,” then stroked his chin. “How long are we going to have to wait ... well, that’s the big question, isn’t it?”

  Robert sat there a moment rubbing his short cropped hair and turned to James who was at the back of the crowd. “James, do they have a toilet?”

  “They’ve got one but it doesn’t work, they’re using one of those camping toilets ... you know, like a bucket with a lid on it.”

  “So they have to empty it. Did you see anywhere in the apartment where they might empty it out?”

  James thought about it a moment, “I don’t remember seeing anything like that ... or smelling it.”

  Robert turned to Alton again, “Did you see them dumping anything out the windows?”

  “No, not a thing.”

  The boss was deliberating while they all watched, “Well they’ve got to do something with it. They must be coming out and dumping it somewhere.”

  Surprisingly Cornwell had something important to say, “When I was watching the back I noticed something, didn’t think much of it at the time ...”

  He now had all of their attention, especially the boss, “What?”

  “Back behind that building is an empty lot, there was a shovel stuck in the ground, and it looked like there were several small holes that had been dug and covered back up.”

  Robert had a plan now. “They’re burying their waste back there. All we have to do is wait until one of them comes down, then we’ll take them hostage. Once we have one hostage we can make the other one surrender.”

  Rob and Alton worked out the plan while the others took note. It was decided they would get some sleep right then because this time they would all be waking at three hundred hours.

  James lay there in his bed a while unable to sleep, wondering if he just got somebody killed.

  At five hundred hours that next morning, they approached the edge of town, only two blocks down from their intended target. Nicky, James, and Peavey were left there with the cart, and told to settle in but come running when they were called.

  The rest of the group got ready, taking only their guns, ammo, and several days’ worth of rations with them. Then they silently crept through the dark alleys taking their assigned positions, and waiting.

  The first day was a long one and nothing happened. James spent most of the day sitting in the shadows keeping out of the sun, wondering if this would ever end. That night he hardly slept at all, every unknown sound unnerving him. Peavey and Nicky on the other hand had no trouble sleeping. In fact, the child lay there, wrapped in a blanket on the hard concrete, peacefully dreaming.

  Just after seven hundred hours that next morning, things started stirring. By 7:35, it was time for the show.

  Robert softly spoke into his radio, “This is Wolf, radio check, everybody check in.”

  Through some static came Alton’s voice, faintly, “Coyote, checking in, you’re good.”

  After another few seconds the silence was barely broken again, McCain this time on the other end, “Jackal, checking in.”

  Hidden amid the garbage in the front of the flower shop Robert coordinated the attack. “They’re looking out the windows right now. Everybody stand by. They’ve checked every one and now they’re in the east Main Street window.”

  With another minute of the tension building, and more than a day of waiting, it finally started happening. Rob was quick with the play by play, “Okay, here we go. They’ve lowered a bucket down to the ground with a rope. Now they
’ve dropped the ladder. Coyote, they’re using the window closest to the alley, so this will be your show. Jackal, you stand by, if they try to run west you be there to stop them. But everybody remember, there’s another one up there with a gun, so whoever comes down grab them quick and get back out of the line of fire.”

  Now a figure appeared in the window, feet first, clumsily lowering himself to the ground.

  Rob was still quietly giving orders from the trash strewn storefront, “This is it. It’s the man. He’s armed with a handgun on the right side of his belt. He’s also got a shotgun slung across his back. Coyote, this guy is yours; I’ll let you know when he’s almost on the ground.” With another few seconds the time for discretion was gone, “COYOTE GO!”

  Just as the man dropped to the pavement he found three men atop of him. D’Cruz and Cornwell knocked him face down on the ground and fixed him there with his arms twisted back and his mouth clamped shut.

  Alton snatched the revolver out of the holster and shoved it into his own waistband. He pulled a knife and hastily sliced through the sling of the shotgun, taking it right off his back. The three hurriedly got him on his feet and rushed him back into the alley, all before he had the chance to make a sound.

  Right then came a desperate yelling from the third-story window, it was the woman’s, “Mark! Mark, what’s going on?! MARK!”

  Alton used zip ties to bind his arms back behind him while Cornwell held him against the wall, D’Cruz held him too and covered his mouth with his hand.

  “MARK?! MARK, ANSWER ME!”

  From the broken out front of the old flower shop there came an unfamiliar man’s voice. “We’ve got your husband, if you want to see him alive again you’ll come on down.”

  Without warning, three loud shots rang out in quick succession. She had no idea where the voice was coming from and was firing wild. Still, everyone got down. She screamed out at the unseen stranger, “Where’s my husband?!”

  Robert gave her a moment to settle down and then tried to calm her with his reasonable voice. “We have your husband, lady. We haven’t hurt him, and we don’t want to. We don’t want to hurt him or you, all we want is your stuff. If you come down, unarmed, you have my word that neither of you will be hurt.”