Baxter’s War

by A. L. Roberts

  A breeze blew, scented roses floated along the air. Her head swiveled, expecting her parents, and those who died from Black and White’s savagery to be standing behind her.

  She remembered Erik's belongings containing the one thing able to punish Moraine for the deaths, and for not stopping Black and White in the beginning.

  Akiko climbed to her feet from her perch and walked towards the camp. She reached her personal Bucky Brown, grabbed the military backpack, and hiked until reaching the Cadre. The Canines hunkered in a half circle before Black and White.

  Two Dobermans and three pit bulls rose upon her approach. She considered the overkill amusing and dropped to her fours in respect.

  Black growled, and the dogs backed into the shadows.

  Akiko looked up. “Check the bag, let me kill Moraine Baxter.”

  Black barked, ordering a pit bull to bring them the bag. The powerful dog clamped his jaws onto the strap and dragged the open bag to Black and White. Both dogs stood, poked their paws around the bag’s opened space and spotted what waited inside its dark folds.

  White flinched. His right paw hovered over the unzipped opening, mouth agape until Black gave short barks.

  Molly approached Akiko and yapped.

  Akiko sat cross-legged. She explained to the Cadre her plans and interpreted the text messages between Gladys and Moraine. Discovering Moraine traveled to Bakersfield. She wanted revenge and to return to the Canine's good graces.

  75

  Moraine lounged on the hotel balcony with a crisp Corona in hand. Jenny reclined in a shoddy chair staring at Robert’s cellphone. Hank Armstrong and the Delta Force operator Sergeant Robinson stood nearby discussing security measures.

  “Hell, Moraine.” Jenny broke the stillness while swiping the Gorilla Glass. “The army is close.”

  Hank worried his bottom lip with his fingertips. “What do you mean?”

  “They are fifteen minutes away.”

  “By car,” Moraine asked, a grin lifted her cheeks.

  “No,” Jenny answered. “By foot.”

  Moraine downed her beer and pressed both thumbs against her closed eyelids. After the killings at city hall her skull thumped as if about to explode. Scenes flashed by in quick clips. Erik and Gladys. Robert and General Grisby joined the list. The last pair she tried to excise from her memory, but her efforts withered.

  She rose and faced the northern hills. Bright sky spread above and a merciless sun beat on a field of brown grass beyond the hotel. “I wonder why they are stalling?”

  “Why are we,” Hank said. “I can muster enough armed militia to kill those mutts. Why wait for them to maul us to death?”

  Jenny clicked her tongue. “They won’t attack yet. They’re creating strategies to defeat Bakersfield in the quickest way possible.”

  Moraine agreed. “Besides, the soldiers at the Milpitas National Guard camp failed when they charged the hill.”

  Hank approached Moraine. “You telling me, those dogs will win if we attacked them.”

  Jenny nodded. “Yup, those boys are brewing up a nasty plan.”

  Moraine hummed a tune. Late afternoon came fast, casting the distant horizon in a subtle shade. “Hank, put more guards on the streets, double the observation posts.”

  “Okay, Moraine.”

  Moraine turned to Sergeant Robinson. “Send your guys out for listening assignments and come back to help organize a defense.”

  Robinson took off without saying a word. Hank trailed him.

  Moraine rested her arms on the wooden railing and stared hard at the northern foothills. “I inherited this mess, Jenny.”

  Jenny propped herself besides Moraine and draped a skinny arm over her shoulders. “We both did.”

  Moraine smirked. “I forgot I’m supposed to be angry at you. But so much has happened since then.”

  “Did Grisby tell you any secrets before Robert killed him?”

  “No,” Moraine said. “I hoped he mentioned how to turn the chips off, but no such luck.”

  Jenny fetched two beers from the room. She returned and flopped in her recliner passing Moraine one. “Casey is sleep.”

  Moraine twisted off the cap. She engaged in a furious cheek scratching and stopped. The low ache behind her eyeballs grew into a slow throb. Next the hallucinations, followed by nightmares. “I need my meds, been off them for too many days.”

  Jenny sipped. “You shaking yet?”

  “No.”

  “Why chase Black and White, Moraine?”

  Moraine often braced herself for the question. She became tired of keeping her own council on the matter.

  “Redemption.”

  Jenny shrugged. “What are you redeeming? You always walked around quiet at the Labs.”

  Moraine eased into a chair across from Jenny. “I fucked up a mission in Afghanistan. Good people died. Because I.” She poked at her own chest. “Let an eight-year-old forced into wearing a suicide vest slip by me.”

  “Sorry.”

  “This is me rectifying my fuckup, Jenny.”

  Moraine gazed at earth's vast blue ceiling for a few seconds. “If Casey never arrived. I might have stayed enlisted. Erik knocked me up, and I got out. Left Delta Force, tried to forget my past life. I’m proud I served, no remorse there. But Alek. His name was Alek. He changed me, still changing me every day.”

  “I didn’t know this.”

  "Well, now you do." Moraine stood and leaned her butt against the balcony rail. With deft fingers she rolled up her right sleeve to the bicep. A puckered scar marred by several circular dents tracked down the limb. Each circle bore colorful flower petals, the healed rent colored green resembled a vine with tiny leaves tattooed along the wound. “This arm saved my gorgeous looks.”

  Jenny's gaze traveled over the art and to Morain's face as she pulled down the sleeve.

  Moraine pivoted, squinted her eyes from the glaring sunset. “Look at this, Jen.”

  Jenny neared Moraine. “Kiss my ass.”

  “Call Hank, get everybody ready.”

  76

  Moraine entered the hotel room and pulled a bulletproof vest over her black sports bra. She followed with her thick leather motorcycle jacket and chaps. She assessed the holes in the arms from earlier dog bites and concluded the heavy coat capable of handling a few more chomps before rendered useless.

  Someone knocked on the door and Jenny answered. Pete stood at the threshold holding a rifle. His Afro and determined stare made him appear something from the sixties.

  “I'm ready, Moraine.”

  “Stay with Casey, Pete. If I fall…”

  “Stop, Moraine. You're not a fortune teller.”

  Moraine delivered Pete a slight nod and approached the sleeping Casey. She kissed her smooth nose, removed golden strands from her brow. She turned away from the bed, readying her mind for the unknown.

  Moraine stepped outside into the balmy Bakersfield weather. She crossed the parking lot jammed with vehicles, weaved her way between sandbag firing positions and maneuvered under a sagging cyclone fence.

  “Hold up,” Moraine said to the group of armed men and women spilling from their trucks. Hundreds more appeared on rooftops, resting weapon barrels on parapets.

  “Don’t nobody shoot,” she ordered, pausing at the field’s cusp.

  Hank Armstrong arrived in his lifted truck with tires so big the vehicle might float from California to Hawaii. The boisterous gaggle grew larger and louder, boosting their own courage.

  “Hank, wait.” Moraine slipped through the weak chain link, climbed over the barricade of parked cars.

  Hank jumped from his king cab. “What, Moraine?”

  “I'll talk to her.”

  “She's just a black girl.”

  Moraine gave Hank a chilling smile. “You go out there and they will Chinese buffet your fat ass.”

  “And, give you a sloppy lick on the cheek and hump your leg?”

  Moraine stared at Akiko standing alone. She wore jeans,
a yellow shirt, with her hair drawn up into a crowning bun. “Prepare your people for a fight.”

  Done talking, Moraine headed for Akiko. She continued scanning for dogs, took in the high weeds to her left and right. Nothing, no other movement graced her world except Akiko, her face a defiant mask as Moraine drew closer.

  Moraine stopped within ten feet of the teenager. Her senses tingling through her brain, warning her of the wrongness of the scene. She sniffed the air, but the breeze blew north, eyed the tall grass for darting figures. The birds paused their twittering, becoming spectators to the unfolding drama.

  “Akiko.”

  Akiko’s lips trembled before she spoke. “Moraine.”

  “Where are Black and White?”

  “Waiting for my return.”

  “What is your age?”

  Moraine’s eyes skimmed the land again, straining her vision against the hills. The setting sun poured shadows over the places she wanted see. Trees, brush, bushy nooks, became filled with shadow.

  “Old enough to command your attention.”

  Moraine produced a tight grin. “I’m not interested in you. I want Black and White. Where are your folks?”

  Akiko flinched.

  “Did they die? The Canines wasted them?”

  Akiko’s eyelashes fluttered. “Don’t mention them. It’s your fault they died.”

  “Why?”

  Akiko shifted, her fingers twitching. “You didn’t catch Black and White before they slaughtered my parents. That’s why you’re chasing them now. I read those text messages with Gladys.”

  Moraine doubled over and retched. A sick wave assaulted her belly. An icy wash rushed her from flesh to bones. A gentle echo of pain rose through her body. She shivered and vomited again.

  Akiko smiled. “Oh. Are you missing those pills Gladys used? Gladys killed little kids too. You’re a junky aren’t you? Not a war hero.”

  Moraine’s anger broke her sickness for the moment. A tremor rattled her aching frame. She needed a pharmaceutical salve for the throbbing ache in her right hand, her soul.

  She forced herself to stand straight. A wind soughed through the panic grass, bending them.

  “Moraine, you okay.” Hank's voice boomed across the field.

  Moraine raised her rifle above her head, and Akiko went to work. Fogged in by pain, Moraine spotted the child reach into her waistband, yanking the pistol into view.

  Two crisp pops exploded, echoing, making Moraine flinch at each impact. She fell on her back, forcing herself to stall the rising panic. An inward scream locked her throat, admonishing herself to remain calm. She wondered where Akiko got a gun, and why she let a kid ambush her for the second time in her life.

  77

  Moraine lay still as big Hank’s voice sounded across the field again. She hoped they didn’t shoot Akiko, allowing her time to grab the kid.

  Moraine moaned, exaggerating her level of pain although two rounds smacked against her body. She needed to draw Akiko closer, save her from both the dogs and Hank’s salivating militia. The swishing of dry weeds rose in her ears as Akiko approached to insure Moraine died, or to finish her.

  The former Delta Force operator, resembling a striking cobra, attacked. Scissoring her legs, she tangled them within Akiko’s ankles, sending the skinny teenager crashing to the dirt onto her stomach.

  Moraine rolled over, straddled her young opponent, knocking the pistol from her hand. She snatched up Akiko’s weak wrists and cranked her arms to her lower spine. “You tried killing me with a twenty-two?”

  Akiko screamed while struggling against Moraine. “Your gun.”

  “What?”

  “It’s your gun from Erik.”

  Moraine focused on the small item with a curved handle and smoking snub nosed barrel. A cheap-looking popgun she handed Erik before the dog hunt. Achy memories flooded her mind as Hank and his posse rushed up to her.

  “You ok, Moraine?”

  Moraine glanced up. “Who’s got handcuffs?” Someone tossed her a pair of shiny cuffs and she secured the squirming Akiko. “Take her to a hospital, Hank. This girl needs lots of therapy.”

  “I don’t need your help. Therapy is for losers,” Akiko shouted. “I want my mother, Moraine. You killed my family.”

  Moraine fought to keep her heart from breaking. Akiko’s face became smeared with tears and dust. She stood, easing the sobbing Akiko to her feet. “Be gentle with her.”

  A man held Akiko by the arm and escorted her towards the city.

  Hank grabbed Moraine’s shoulder. “She shot you, and you’re standing?”

  Moraine slid a finger into the holes. One pierced the left side of her jacket, nestling in the bulletproof vest. The second round nicked her bicep, drawing blood and a lingering sting.

  “I’m okay.” She leaned over and scooped up the gun, jamming the weapon into the motorcycle jacket pocket.

  Hank grunted and pointed his rifle at the rise. “Shit, Moraine. Here they come.”

  Howls emerged, echoing up to the sky as if a thousand dogs announced displeasure at Akiko’s capture.

  Black and White crested the highest hill. Several other dogs flanked the dangerous duo. The mangy mass gazed down upon the knot of humans clustered on the grass. Next, an army of Chihuahuas walked with patience over the smaller hills in the hundreds. They stopped and waited.

  Moraine wished for her sniper rifle. The dogs offered her the opportunity for victory while posing on such high ground. She figured those two defined arrogance. They displayed no fear, almost asking her to kill them.

  “Hank, get your people prepared.”

  Hank took off running followed by his band.

  Moraine stared at Black and White and the Chihuahuas posted beneath their masters. She turned and strolled for the fence and barricades.

  Moraine caught up with Hank as the fighters gathered along a growing makeshift line of defense. The defenders used cars, trucks, sandbags, and huge dumpsters to protect themselves.

  She spotted the Delta operators positioning themselves atop the hotel roof. She entered the hotel and room, heading straight for the rifle case.

  “What’s going on, Moraine,” Jenny said from the balcony.

  “You see them. They’re ready to fight, Jenny.” Moraine removed the bullet proof vest, she considered the item too stifling. After pulling on her jacket, she moved to the long ebony rifle case. She flipped open the heavy lid, yanking out the black Barrett.

  Jenny went to a bag and pulled out binoculars. She returned to the balcony and lifted the glasses to her eyes and scanned the unfolding scene. “Are you planning to end this?”

  Moraine finished inspecting the Barrett. She stuffed her pockets with fifty-caliber shells. “That’s the idea, Jenny. I’ll return soon.”

  Moraine hefted the Barrett Adder and headed out the door. She admonished herself for not ending their lives what seemed like an eternity ago.

  78

  Black and White waited long enough for Akiko’s return. They concluded something happened to her, and just as expected a schnauzer spy arrived with the disheartening news.

  Black huffed. He couldn’t catch a moment without that bitch Moraine Baxter interfering with every grand scheme they took. But he foresaw this, and he and White made plans to conquer Bakersfield despite her hampering.

  White stared at Black. “So Moraine captured Akiko?”

  Black spun towards the army of dogs. “The plan continues. Since they are eager for war, we’ll grant their wishes.”

  He padded before the two thousand troops, a paltry number compared to a few days ago before Gladys poisoned them. Akiko’s capture bothered him. The shots rang out, yet Moraine survived the attack and snared their favorite slave.

  An odd shift brewed inside him. He found this new mental state difficult to comprehend. He sensed anger within himself, the obvious one, and hurt at Akiko taken prisoner. But a stronger want filled his mind. Black wanted to subjugate the humans. He decided no more compromises. No
more being humane.

  White neared Black. “We must start the fight now, Black.”

  Black growled, annoyed at his perceived lack of action. “Canines, today we win this battle.”

  Black mounted an overturned Bucky Brown wagon. He met the eyes of the Canines. “Victory is near and so is the loving embrace of Mother. Each of you are inheritors of our legacy. And our daring solidifies our superiority over an enemy incapable of such greatness.”

  Black hopped off the wagon amidst howls and barks. He eased through the crowd, placing the soft side of his paw against foreheads. “My brave, Canines. Our fallen are watching you this day.”

  Black pointed his snout to the sky and howled, a lengthy howl packed with whatever emotion he could muster. He emerged from the pack, leading White and the Cadre to the hilltop. Below sat Bakersfield and several people standing in the open.

  He recognized Moraine after his Chihuahuas padded forward. The other humans ran once the Cadre crested the overlook. She stayed to stare at the Canines in defiance before strolling to the city.

  Black voiced a low grumble, and the Cadre moved forward, spreading out to his left and right. Another gentle call, and the Chihuahuas ambled forth in silence, covering the lower hill. He called again as the mongrels occupied their appointed posts. By the time he completed his formation arrangements, the Canine army covered the high ground.

  White barked, his powerful voice echoing over the field as the humans became feverish maggots underneath his gaze. They hid behind vehicles and sandbag walls and other obstacles, believing themselves safe from their wrath.

  The humans whistled, tossing up middle fingers at the Canine army. His excellent hearing picked up their curses and threats.

  White pawed the soil. “Exuberant are we?”

  Black's lips parted, revealing his yellowing teeth. “They consider themselves a higher species. Look at them. See their fear?”

  “Yes, putrid waves rising above their frantic bodies. They are doing their best to protect themselves from us.”