Bronson didn’t say anything, looking like he’d lost his appetite.
“The way we’ve been going about things won’t work anymore,” Beatrice said. “Draggin’ people off to a gas chamber, only to drag them off again to a big ole burn pit that we must dig ourselves? It’s too tedious, far too many twists and turns. We need a quicker, more efficient method. A roundabout route.”
“And what do you propose?” Bronson asked, his face contorting, already knowing the answer. “Execution by firing squad and a direct detour to a mass grave?”
“Damn skippy. Kneel them down, put two in their skulls, then bury all of them directly thereafter in one big pit.” Beatrice pulled a bite from her fork. “It only makes sense…we are surrounded by farmland, after all. Their remains would make for modest fertilizer.”
Doug Bronson expelled a rare indignant scoff. “Are you even hearing yourself?”
“I hear fine, and let’s not quibble over implications. You and I both know the endgame here. For them, life isn’t just over—it’s been over. Have you ever taken a close gander at them? They know what’s coming, and they’re ready, rarin’ to go. It was never in the cards for them anyway.”
“It was for some of them.”
“Perhaps.” Beatrice watched him fidget uncomfortably for a while. Finally, she uttered his name in a sultry voice. “Bottom line is, Doug, that we are plum runnin’ out of time. Efforts therefore must be intensified to extend what time we have left. You and I can be a powerful alliance if we put our minds to it, and I have no doubt we can go places far beyond this nasty little assignment. Options exist for us, and I’ll gladly read you in, but I must first know where your loyalties reside.” Beatrice reached across the table for his hand. “Are you with me, Douglas?”
“Is this a test, Beatrice?”
“Absolutely it is.”
“Then I believe I am—with you, that is.”
“Peachy.”
Chapter 30
Trout Run Valley
Sunday, March 13th
Lauren’s world was in ruins. She was disconsolate, devastated, detached from herself, everyone and everything, the aftermath of recent heartbreaking events viciously holding her captive in an oubliette of torment. She stood quivering upon limp legs, several feet inside the forest’s edge, concealed behind budding trees and shrubs, a hundred or so yards away from the succinct burial service now being held for John and Norman.
Lauren didn’t want to be seen. She didn’t want to be quizzed or looked upon, judged, related to, or empathized with. She didn’t want to hear anyone tell her ‘everything would be okay’ or say they were ‘sorry for her loss’. The only thing she wanted was the one thing she knew she couldn’t ever have back. And nothing was going to change that. So she remained here, distant from all those who’d gathered to briefly pay their respects.
She’d worn a dress today. She hadn’t worn one in years, but felt that the occasion more than demanded the gesture. It didn’t fit her nearly as well as it had years ago and barely held to her sagging shoulders, but Lauren didn’t care. Her puffy eyes ached so badly from all the tears she’d shed that she couldn’t bear to rub them anymore. Her nose was chafed and blistering, and her lips were chapped so raw that they broke open and seeped blood whenever she cried.
Lauren’s soul was crushed, but there was one person who was feeling more than twice her pain and exponentially more devastation than she or anyone else in the wake of this. And she watched him now from afar, with eyes so swollen she could barely see through them. Lauren waited here for him to be alone and rid of the mourners so she could go to him and say what she needed to say to John’s brother, Norman’s eldest son, and one of the closest friends she’d ever had.
The funeral services today were set to be brief on purpose. The threat of future attacks was a persistent one, and no group was to be gathered for more than a short while in any one location, especially in the open. The directive was put in place with safety in mind while perceived by many as bothersome and conflicting. It wasn’t fair that family and friends were obliged to limit their time saying their goodbyes and paying their respects. Many considered the mandate intolerable and, thus, regarded it merely as a suggestion.
An overall feeling of gloom had overtaken the valley. Neighbors passing each other by refused to look the other’s way and, instead, hung their heads in sorrow and surrender. What remained of their pride had been ripped from their clutches, and they had all but given up after this latest shock to the system.
Emily Taylor was still missing, as was Brooke Schmidt and the Brady sisters, Allison and Annabelle. Christian, for reasons unknown, had yet to return home. Neo was in critical condition, and he and Grace hadn’t yet regained consciousness. The status of Grace’s pregnancy had yet to be determined. Unit troops, friends and loved ones had been senselessly murdered, blood had been shed, and the looming threat of another attack devoid of forewarning was dealing the valley a finishing blow.
Lauren sniffled and rubbed her nose, feeling the harsh, salty sting on fissured skin. She tried prying open her eyes with her fingers, but it was no use. She looked as though she’d gone ten losing rounds in a professional heavyweight boxing match as a bantamweight. The group began to slowly disperse, but she waited until she was certain Lee was alone and no one was set to return. And then she broke away from the obscurity the trees provided and went to him.
Immersed in sorrow and stoicism, wearing the best dress clothing he could find, Lee stood barely vertical, his hands pushed deep into his pockets, his eyes filled with tears such that he could barely make out the two wooden crucifixes before him, one bearing his father’s name, the other, his brother’s.
Lauren glided up to him, making very little sound in her bare feet. She moved in slowly, making sure he knew she was there before taking his beefy arm with hers. She latched onto him, and the two leaned into each other and swayed, Lee’s husky form seeming to visually devour Lauren’s petite frame. They stood there, bound together, if for no other reason than to hold each other upright.
In time, Lee broke the silence. “Everyone was asking about you, wondering where you’ve been.”
Lauren’s only response was to squeeze his arm.
“I don’t remember seeing you wear a dress before. It’s nice.”
“Don’t get used to it.” Lauren sniffled and brushed her bangs away. “It’s the only one I have.”
Lee glanced downward. “Didn’t have any shoes that matched?”
“I…left them in the woods.”
“Oh.” Lee almost grinned. “Is that where you’ve been hiding?”
“I haven’t been hiding, I just haven’t been around. I haven’t wanted to be around.”
Lee nodded. “I don’t blame you; me neither. But I’m glad you decided to show up today.”
Lauren didn’t say anything.
“You didn’t miss much. Some crying and a few nice words, then some more crying.” A pause. “Your dad said some nice things. It couldn’t’ve been easy for him, not remembering a lot. I think Michelle helped him. But he did good. What he said made a lot of us cry.”
“He’s always been good at that,” Lauren said.
Lee wavered a moment. “Did you want me to leave or give you some space? So you can have some time with him?”
“No.” Lauren sniffled. “I want you to stay right here. I’m not sure I deserve time alone with him.”
“Lauren…”
“I mean it, Lee. The way I’ve been to him…the way I treated him…it wasn’t fair. I was…horrible to him.” She choked up a bit. “And I never got the chance to make it right…I told him I was sorry, and he never forgave me.”
Lee hesitated to speak. “You weren’t horrible to him. You weren’t perfect, either. But neither was he.”
“So you agree, then.”
“No. I’m not agreeing or disagreeing. It’s not my place to judge either of you,” Lee exhaled. “John loved you because of who you are and who you were to him
. How you treated each other was between the two of you and none of my business.”
A moment of silence followed while Lauren considered her next question. It broke her heart to think the words, even more to utter them. “Lee, do you think…” She trailed off. “The things I did…what I did to him…did it somehow have a hand in what happened? Did I…put him here somehow?”
“What?” Lee prompted, his tone bitter. “What did you say?”
Lauren shuddered. “Did me becoming who I am…disappearing like I did…did it drive him to this?”
Lee jerked away from her, burning red animosity flooding his cheeks. “Don’t do that! Don’t you dare do that, Lauren! For fuck’s sake, I just buried my family today! My brother and my father! The only family I had! I don’t have anyone left now, okay? No one! Damn you to hell! This day is theirs! It belongs to them! And you don’t get to take that away from them, do you hear me? You are not taking this day from them!” He backstepped and took a long moment to himself, inhaling and letting out deep breaths to reach a level of calm. “And no, this wasn’t you. You’re not the reason John is gone. You didn’t bury him, Dad, or any of these people. Some lunatic asshole did that. A sick son of a bitch who hates us, wants us dead, and plays four-dimensional chess with the world because he hasn’t found any other way to win.”
Lauren nodded accord, turned and inched her way back to him. She reached for his arm, waited for him to offer it, then clutched him to keep afloat of the passions drowning her. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Lee.”
“Me too,” Lee uttered. “I’m sorry for yelling at you, but dammit, Lauren, John loved you, and that’s as real as it gets. You were the only thing, the only person who mattered to him. He lived every day for you. He didn’t die because of you; if anything, you gave him something to live for. You were his reason for living. He used to say all the time how he would’ve done anything to protect you and die for you if he had to. But you didn’t put him in this grave. So please, don’t think that and don’t ask that question. Not today. Not ever.”
Lauren rolled her lips between her teeth and pulled even closer to him, the worst misery she had ever felt evident in her wilting posture. “You’re right. I was out of line. It was stupid of me to ask.”
Lee whimpered and embraced her. “I’m not mad at you. Just…sad; so sad that I’m angry. I know you lost someone too, and I know you’re hurting, but I lost everything the other day. And I hate this whole…piece-of-shit world for it.”
“That makes two of us.” She squeezed him. “And you didn’t lose everything.”
“Thanks, but from where I’m standing, it sure feels like it,” Lee groaned. “It goes without saying how much John loved you, but Dad did too. All of us did. You’ve always been like the sister I never had, and Dad thought of you like a daughter. Back when we were kids, we were always together, you know? Grace, too, when she started coming around. Dad was always hanging out with your parents…remember all those cookouts and parties? Throwing football in the yard, fishing, camping…” He trailed off. “We were like one big family. But we’re all older now, and after this…without Dad and John, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I mean, what’s going to happen to me? My family is gone.” Lee’s lips trembled. “I hate this, Lauren. My whole world has gone to hell. What do I do now? How do I move on from something like this? How does anyone move on? And what’s the point of living a life with no real future ahead of it? Why keep waking up every day just waiting to die?”
Lauren’s stance began to bolster, and her tears evaporated. “We’re human, Lee. We all die eventually,” she said solemnly, resolve increasing in her tone. “When our time comes, it’s over for us. Those left behind alive, whenever someone they love leaves this earth, they…acclimate and get stronger, somehow. And each person, in his or her own way, moves on.”
“I guess.”
“Sooner or later, everyone will move on from this.” She paused extensively. “Everyone except me.”
“Huh?” Lee queried. “What do you mean by that?”
Lauren hesitated. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I told John goodbye the other day,” she began. “The thought of them…coming here and doing what they did, murdering people we love in cold blood as if their lives meant nothing. It’s insufferable. Unforgivable. And I can’t move on…not without making it right.”
“Without making what right?”
“I can’t let it happen, Lee. I’m not wired that way,” Lauren continued, her tone gaining zeal. “At least, not anymore. It’s hard to explain, but something inside me has…mutated. And I can’t turn the other cheek to this…I can’t take this lying down…and I won’t. I’ve been priming myself for a fight with them for a long time, but after this, I’m of a mind to go there, just as I am now, with a blade in one hand and a black flag raised in the other and fuck them up. This has to end. And I’m going to end it.”
“What are you talking about? Haven’t we dug enough graves in recent days? We can’t bring anyone back, Lauren! No matter what we do or how hard we try, it’s over. What’s done is done.”
“No, it isn’t. They haven’t been held accountable.” Lauren’s body went stiff. “‘For whatever a man sows, that he will also reap. For he who sows to his flesh, will of the flesh reap corruption’.”
Lee only stared at her.
“That’s from the Bible. Galatians, if I remember right. My grandmother used to read me verses before bed when I stayed over. That one is about cause and effect. The basic nature of God’s justice.” A pause. “She’s there, you know, with my granddad, in that fucking camp; assuming they’re still alive.”
“Lauren, come on. That’s enough. You’re starting to sound crazy.”
“Maybe I am. But whoever’s responsible for this…they can’t be allowed to live, Lee. We have the right to seek vengeance, but an eye for an eye is outmoded and far too good for them. Every life stolen from us is worth a thousand of theirs…so we must take all of them. Exterminate them, wipe them out. Like roaches.” Lauren stared hard at the freshly disturbed earth making up John’s grave, with elevated brows. “We can’t permit them to go on breathing, eating, drinking, smiling, laughing…fucking, enjoying all the beauties and wonders of life. That can’t happen, and I won’t let it happen. I won’t agree to it.”
“Really? And how won’t you?” Lee quipped. “What the hell are you going to do about it? I’ll tell you what you’re going to do—nothing. That’s right, nothing. You may be tough and know how to shoot, but those people shoot back, and you’re not bulletproof. And you’re not superhuman, either. You can’t take on the whole world by yourself.” Lee scoffed. “Get real. The people who did this…you know as well as I do, they have an army. There are hundreds of them with machine guns, armor, tanks, and probably more of those things they used to attack us. You’re kidding yourself if you think anything you try is going to matter to them. You’re just one person, Lauren. One person, same as me, same as everyone else. You can’t fight a war all by yourself.”
Lauren took a step back and sent Lee a searing gaze before stomping the naked soles of her feet away and back to the forest. “Watch me.”
Chapter 31
The cabin
Trout Run Valley
Monday, March 14th. Early morning
Pressure in his bladder awakening him from a halfway decent dream, Ken forced himself out of bed and stumbled blindly to his bedroom door, hands held in front of him, feeling for obstacles. In the hallway, he rubbed his eyes and opened them wide enough to detect a faint flickering glow emitting from the cabin’s open floor plan ahead of him. A hand to the wall for stability, he explored farther and found Jade seated at the Russells’ dining room table, her appealing features accented by a trio of burning pillar candles atop a clear glass votive.
The current mission at hand exacting his attention and thus taking priority, Ken paid her little mind and let himself out to urinate off the front porch in the privacy of the valley’s early morn
ing pitch blackness.
Chilled and slightly more awake now, Ken’s gaze landed on Jade upon reentry, noticing she was fully equipped and kitted-up in her tactical loadout. Her M4 carbine lay on the table perpendicular to her, and a coffee mug rested in her right hand. She tapped her middle and index fingers rhythmically on it, but no steam lofted from the top. Her cheek rested on her left fist, and her stare was transfixed on that which lay beyond the window.
At first Ken didn’t think anything of it, but the closer he got to her, he could tell something was off. Jade had never been one to divulge much about herself. Anything Ken had ever needed to know, she’d told him or allowed him to see. She’d been this way since he’d known her and had yet to deviate from that mark. If it wasn’t need-to-know, Jade hadn’t let it out in the open. But something had been getting to her since the other day, since the attacks that had taken the lives of eleven people, including eight servicemembers and three civilians. They weren’t technically under her charge, and it hadn’t been her job this time to protect them, but she seemed to have assumed a sense of obligation for them, nonetheless.
Ken yawned, concealing his mouth with the back of his hand. Every ounce of his being was screaming for him to return to the rack, but he couldn’t do so without checking in on his friend. He took a seat across from her, glancing at the candles and the shimmering effects on Jade’s girlish yet unyielding features. “I knew you were an early riser, Low Drag, but this is a tad ridiculous, don’t you think?”
Jade didn’t say anything.
“So what gives? Can’t sleep?”
Still no response.
“Working your way toward another firewatch ribbon?” Ken waited for a beat while she persisted holding her tongue. “Those are some really nice candles,” he bumbled. “Can’t get a fix on the scent, though. It’s almost like coconut and vanilla…and I don’t know…dust, maybe?”
The Heart of War: Book Seven of the What's Left of My World Series Page 24