Without

by E. E. Borton

  Rick gave up the attempt at uniting his flock against me, motioning for his remaining devout goons to march back to the platform. As they fought against the storm, I kept laughing at them. They looked ridiculous sloshing through the mud, carrying their guns to fight an unarmed man tied to a post, dying in the rain.

  “You suck at this!” I yelled at Rick, who was crawling up to the platform. “They’re all watching you fail. I’m still alive, asshole. I’m still here calling you an asshole. That’s gotta hurt.”

  Turning to look behind him, he saw most of his people cowering under the shelter, fixated on him. I hoped they were watching, believing that God was proving to them that He was in charge, not Rick. A lightning strike to one of the towers sent them diving for more secure cover. Four of the six goons accompanying Rick turned, running for the safety of the church.

  “The only thing they’ll be watching is me driving my knife into your heart,” said Rick, making it to his feet, pulling the long blade. “I guess I’m just going to have to break my promise to Kelly. This has been fun!”

  As he stepped onto the pile of soaked firewood at my feet, he raised the blade high over his head. Rick wanted to make sure everyone saw him killing me. I was staring at his eyes as he stared at the flesh over my heart, aiming the blow that would finally finish me. When he brought it down, the slippery pile gave way under his feet.

  As the knife plunged into my leg, I winced through my laughter. He rolled like a cartoon down the front of the platform, landing face down in the thickening mud. As his men reached down to help, he swung wildly at them, knocking one to the ground with him. The pain of my wounds eased as I watched them struggle to get back to their feet. I couldn’t have asked for a more entertaining death.

  A fierce gust pushed the three men backwards, sending them sliding across the slick ground. Rick had had enough. Through clenched teeth he ordered the two shooters to bring the show to an end. As they crept forward, I smiled.

  “Thank God!” I screamed. “I can’t take much more of this. You guys are killing me!”

  Coming within twenty yards, they raised their rifles. Even they couldn’t miss at that range. With nothing left in me, I exhaled, surrendering to the moment.

  I don’t think anyone heard the shot over the storm, but they all saw it. As blood and brain matter from one shooter covered the face of the other, he dropped into the mud. Before number two could figure out where the shot came from, a bullet pierced his neck, severing his spine. He fell on top of the other.

  Making his way through the driving rain to the open shelter, Rick turned to watch me die. He stood motionless, trying to figure out why his men were lying on the ground. I was just as confused. Squinting to bring into focus a face in one of the far towers, it became clear. It was Joey, taking aim at the men at the gate. With thunder, sonic blasts, lightning, howling wind, and driving rain, I could only see the bodies hit the ground. I never heard a shot.

  I watched as Joey crouched down, taking fire from the goons who figured it out the same time I did. As splinters flew from the timbers, I hoped it wasn’t a solo attempt at my rescue. I turned to see Rick and three men running from the open shelter towards the church. It looked like they were moving in slow motion against the wind in their faces.

  Even as the roar of the storm grew louder, I was able to hear a familiar sound. It was the rhythmic huffing and snorting of the steam tractors. As the blood continued to pour out of me, I felt my head becoming light. I figured it was the reason I was hearing the impossible – but seeing is believing. Bruce and Parker had made the impossible happen.

  I became a spectator in an arena. I watched as more of Rick’s men joined in the firefight against Joey. When they understood it was just one man, shooters came out of the woodwork. There had to be at least twenty men pounding away at the tower. They became organized, moving several up at a time as the others laid down covering fire. All eyes were concentrating on removing the threat, but I could still feel Rick’s on me.

  As I turned my heavy head to the left, I saw him taking a weapon from one of his men. I watched as he loaded a round into the bolt-action hunting rifle. Wrapping the strap around his hand as he lowered it, I could see he was once again looking to end this. I shook my head as I watched him try to steady himself on the steps of the church. I was confident he was going to miss.

  I was wrong.

  As I tried to slide around the post, putting it between me and him, the bullet tore through my left arm above my elbow. I couldn’t see the new wound, but I could feel my flesh burning. (At least he missed the bone.) Even through the wailing wind, I heard the second bullet pass inches away from my right ear. He was trying to take me one piece at a time.

  The tower where Joey was making his stand started leaning as one of the thick posts gave way to the barrage of lead. More men joined the unfair fight, elevating the number of shooters in the courtyard to thirty. I ducked as the third round fired by Rick drove into the pole behind my head. As I tried to slump down, the knife he left sticking out of my leg cut through the flexing muscle.

  My world became a dreamscape as I watched the fighting unfold around me. More streaks of light in the swirling clouds mixed with the thunder claps, turning the courtyard into a battlefield. It pained me to think of Joey absorbing the hundreds of rounds peppering the tower. I hoped he had an escape plan and that he was already on the ground, running for the cover of the woods.

  When the front gates toppled over, I had to blink several times to clear the blood from my eyes and confirm what I was seeing. It was as if two dragons had blown them over into the mud. They were magnificent.

  I couldn’t see the faces at the helm of the two lumbering giant steam tractors, but I knew Bruce and Parker were driving the monsters. Each was encased in an iron box with small slits on the front to find their way. A second iron box was perched above and slightly behind them. Through another slit, the four foot barrels of the massive .50-caliber Browning machine guns began to spit fire from the dragon’s mouths.

  As the huge steel wheels dug trenches through the mud, the devout followers of the pastor were sitting ducks in the open field. The guns showed them no mercy as their bodies exploded from the impacts of the relentless stream of fire. Puffs of red smoke hung in the air above them with each direct hit. Most were cut down before they could turn and run. It was an impressive display of brutal and violent firepower.

  There was no safety once several of the armed flock made it to the doors of the large enclosed shelter. Moments after they were closed, they were shredded off their hinges. The rounds easily penetrated the wooden frame, sending the roof down on top of the pile of bodies inside. Systematically, one by one, each building that fired on the tractors was pulverized by the dragons.

  When the only thing moving was the rain and the wind, the tractors turned their teeth towards the church. At the front gate to Fort God, a dozen of J.D.’s men from the mountain came through, raising assault rifles toward the last standing structure. I turned to watch as the men flanking the pastor dropped their weapons, raising their hands high over their heads. There were no hesitations by J.D.’s clan behind the triggers, putting several rounds into each of them. As their bodies rolled down the church steps, Rick became the last man standing.

  Both tractors drove past me on either side of the post. With exposed backs on the gun turrets, I could see J.D. and Tucker manning the weapons. They turned to look at me as they went by. I understood why they couldn’t stop for me. There was still work to be done.

  The dragons jerked to a stop at the church stairs on either side of Rick. With a wall of steam being released from pressure valves, the doors on the iron boxes enclosing the drivers swung open. Uncle Perry and Kelly climbed down with Bruce and Parker following. The two old-timers were coming towards me. Perry and Kelly walked up to Rick.

  It took one punch from Perry’s jackhammer of a fist to crumple Rick to the stairs. Another followed for good measure. I couldn’t tell if it was the sound of t
hunder or the bones breaking in the pastor’s skull.

  He wrapped his arm around his throat, pulling him up to his feet. I could see Perry’s mouth moving as he pointed at me. Standing behind Rick, he picked him up off the stairs, choking him as he walked him down to the mud. As his feet were kicking at air, Kelly pulled out my knife and stood in front of him. She raised it over her head with both hands. I heard her scream in his face as she brought it down, burying it up to the handle in his chest. She stepped to the side as he fell to his knees. She wanted to make sure I could see him fall by her hands.

  He collapsed onto his face into the mud.

  “I told you I’d whoop his ass,” said Parker, reaching me.

  “Hold on, son,” said Bruce, unlocking my shackles. “We gotcha now.”

  They didn’t.

  The shackles were the only thing holding me up. When I fell forward, Parker wasn’t strong enough to keep me on my feet. As I hit the pile of firewood, the knife in my leg tore through more flesh, severing an artery. What little blood I had left in me was gushing out of the gaping wound.

  I could see the fear in Parker’s eyes as he tried to put pressure on my leg. His white shirt was turning red from the geyser coming out of me. I looked past him, watching the reaper step onto the platform, laying his icy hand on my shoulder.

  All of the pain left my body as Sam lay down beside me, wrapping her warm arms around my shoulders. Earl dropped to his knees, putting his hand over mine. He squeezed, giving me a smile and a nod. As my eyes grew heavy, the world started to fade into a pale fog. As if I were a mile away, I heard Bruce screaming for Kelly to hurry.

  She was fighting against the wind, rain, and mud to get to me. With every stride she became more blurry as the pale fog turned brilliant white. I was glad the last thing I’d ever see was her face. When she reached me, my white world faded to black.

  Chapter 53

  Day 70

  I died at 8:13 in the morning. I’ll never forget the time because my watch died as well. I don’t know why, but I still wear it. Maybe it’s because eventually everything will die at 8:13. Maybe it’s because I’m hoping one day to look down and see that it’s 8:14. Whatever the reason, I’m still wearing that watch.

  Setting the cold beer down in front of me, the server asked if I needed a menu. I declined, watching Sam hit the last few balls in the bucket. I ordered her a drink as she picked up her clubs, making her way to the deck that overlooked the driving range.

  “A perfect day, huh?” said Sam, taking the seat beside me. “I was knocking the crap out of those things.”

  “You’re a natural,” I said. “I do love watching your swing.”

  “Thank you,” said Sam, accepting the drink from the server.

  “Couldn’t get any prettier out here,” said Earl, sitting down beside Sam. “And look at them greens. Whoever takes care of those must do it with love.”

  “Yes, he does,” I said, smiling. “You wanna sneak out to fourteen and knock a few in the woods?”

  “Now, that’s an idea,” said Earl, “but you ain’t got much time.”

  “What do you mean? I’ve got the rest of eternity out here with you. With both of you.”

  “You ain’t supposed to be here yet,” said Earl. “You still fightin’.”

  “You were there, Earl. You saw what they did to me. I didn’t survive. I couldn’t have survived.”

  “You did, baby,” said Sam. “And I’m so proud of you. What you did for your family, the people you care about, was the most selfless thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “So, this isn’t heaven?” I asked.

  “Oh, no, son,” said Earl. “You can’t describe heaven with words. No, this here is in the middle. It’s where your soul goes to recover while your body is healing.”

  “It’s so beautiful here,” I said. “I don’t want to leave. If you haven’t noticed, it’s a little rough out there. I’m tired of the pain. I want to stay here with you two.”

  “This place isn’t real,” said Sam. “Where your body’s healing is real. The people who love you that are desperately trying to save your life are real. The real beauty is there. It’s where you found your home, sweet boy.”

  “They came for you,” said Earl. “That damn storm slowed ‘em down a bit, but they came anyway. They was willing to die for you, just like you was willing to die for them. Some folks never find that in their entire lives. But you, you had everyone coming for you. Wouldn’t be right, you stayin’ here after what they did.”

  “She makes you happy,” said Sam. “That makes me happy.”

  “She’s tough like you,” I said. “She doesn’t back down from anything.”

  “Including you,” said Earl, laughing. “She’s a good woman. You’re lucky to have found her back there in your world.”

  “You’re okay with this?” I asked, looking at Sam. “Me being with Kelly?”

  “I’m okay with anyone that’ll take care of you. And she’s taking care of you now.”

  “This is gonna hurt, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, yes, sir,” said Earl, grinning. “You been beaten, stabbed, shot, damn near burned, and sliced up. Yep, it’s gonna hurt.”

  “I love you both,” I said. “Thank you for sticking by me, even when I tried to erase you.”

  “We’ll always be here for you,” said Sam. “It’s time for you to go now.”

  I was immersed in silence and darkness. It felt like I was on my feet, so I started walking. With every step the pain returned, but I couldn’t remember how it got there. As the pitch black was lifted from my eyes, a stranger was standing over me. At first I only heard mumbling, but then the voice became clearer.

  “That’s it, sweetheart. You come on back to us.”

  I tried to speak, but my throat was bone dry. The stranger lifted my head as she put a glass of water to my lips. After a sip my voice was working again.

  “Who…who are you?”

  “It’s me, sweetie. I’m your Aunt Donna. You’ve had a rough time of it these past few weeks, but you’re gonna be just fine now. Praise the Lord, you’re gonna be fine.”

  A younger woman came flying around the corner into the room. Her face was bright and her smile was huge. Donna held up a hand for her to slow down.

  “He’s having a little trouble recognizing us, River,” said Donna. “We need to take it easy until the others get here.”

  “You recognize me, don’t you?” said River. “I’m your cousin.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t. I have no idea how I got here. What happened to me?”

  “You died on us, son,” said a large man entering the room. “But we got you back. That’s all you need to know for right now. I’m your Uncle Perry. Your other cousin Joey ran out to get a few folks who are gonna be happy to see you awake.”

  “Awake?” I said. “How long have I been out?”

  “Twenty-three days,” answered River, lowering her head, wiping away a tear. “It’s been a very long twenty-three days.”

  Uncle Perry motioned for Donna and River to leave the room. Each leaned over, giving me a gentle hug before they walked away. Whoever these people were, they certainly acted like my family.

  “Doc told us this might happen,” said Perry. “He told us not to overwhelm you with too much when you woke up, so I’m not. He says it’ll all come back to you. And when it does, I want you to remember something, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “I never should’ve left you,” said Perry. “It broke my heart watching you walk away from me, and I am truly sorry. But I promise you this. That will never happen again. I have three sons now. Just remember that, okay?”

  “I will.”

  “Doc said to leave you be until he got here, so I’m gonna be right outside that door,” said Perry. “You call out if you need anything.”

  “Can I get another sip of water, please?”

  With the same gentle hands as Donna, he lifted my head. I looked at him as I swallowed. Ther
e was something familiar in his eyes. I knew him.

  “Uncle Perry?”

  “Yes, son.”

  “I threw up on you, didn’t I?”

  “Of all the things,” replied Perry, throwing back his head, laughing. “Yes, boy. You threw up on me. Now rest up. The others will be here soon.”

  When he left me alone in the room, images started firing through my head. I remembered a steam train. I remembered I lived in Atlanta, but something terrible happened, forcing me to leave. I saw the face of an old woman, looking for her dog.

  Several other faces came into focus in my mind’s eye. Most were blurry, but I knew all of them were dead. My stomach sank when I realized I was the one who killed them.

  As fragments of memories started floating towards each other, I still couldn’t figure out what had happened to put me in this bed in so much pain. I pulled the covers down, revealing a brilliant white cross of dressings on my chest. Reaching up to my face, it was difficult finding a spot that didn’t hurt.

  Laying my arms back down to my sides, I closed my eyes, trying to recall the event twenty-three days ago that killed me. All I saw was darkness, but I kept feeling rain and fire; I kept hearing a steam train – two steam trains. None of it was making sense.

  “I’ll be damned,” said an older man walking into my room. “Looks like I get another home cooked meal.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Never mind. I’m Doctor Hammond, but just call me Doc.”

  “You dug birdshot out of my face, didn’t you?”

  “You remember that?”

  “I do,” I said. “It hurt like hell.”

  “Good,” said Doc. “That’s a good sign. I’m gonna give you the short version of what’s going on with you.”

  “I’d really like to know.”

  “A bunch of folks tried to kill you,” said Doc. “Technically, they did. Your heart stopped beating for about a minute and a half. Now, these same assholes tried to kill me, too. But lucky for you, they didn’t. Tell you the truth, I’m gonna need to build a hospital just for you if you keep this up.”