“I agree,” Ken said. “Motion passed.”
Jimmy looked up at Ken, and his ice blue eyes were locked on his. Jimmy knew the point he was making here, and he couldn’t blame him for doing so. Jimmy nodded.
“Good,” said Patty, turning to head back up the stairs. “I’m going to talk to Paula, and I can tell you one thing—I’m putting that girl to work. There are no free lunches here!”
Nobody said a word as Patty climbed the concrete stairs and onto the wooden deck. She paused for a moment to look over the frozen lake and finally disappeared into the house. The awful shrieking of one of the wounded men suddenly ended with a lone gunshot.
“Dear God,” Ken said, crossing himself as he did so. “What has become of us?”
Julie was climbing down the ladder and joined Jimmy where he stood. She gave him a quick kiss and motioned to Glen. “Let’s get him around back,” she said.
“Thank you,” Ken said. “I just can’t do it. I hope you understand.”
“We do,” said Jimmy. “You guys keep an eye out for trouble, and we’ll be back in a minute. We’ve got to get more ammo up there where we can get to it. You’re going to want to get some jackets on. It’s not as warm out as you think it is.”
“Yes, mommy,” answered Wart.
They chuckled at that, and Jimmy and Julie both took one of Glen’s legs and began to drag him toward the small hill at the side of the house. Glen, who was still face down, slid easily on the icy snowpack with his arms trailing behind him like a pair of skis. They wordlessly dragged him into the backyard in the direction of the shed. Julie suddenly let go of Glen’s leg and pointed to the open door. Jimmy let go of Glen and dug another of the grenades from his jacket pocket. Someone or something was inside the shed; Jimmy was sure of it.
“Stay here,” whispered Jimmy, holding the grenade out in front of him.
Julie nodded. “Be careful,” she whispered back in return.
Jimmy nodded and began to creep toward the open door. He was fifty feet away and trying to figure out what the odd creaking sound was. He began to move faster as it slowly dawned upon him what the sound was. He sprinted the final few feet to the open door and was shocked at what he saw. “Julie!” he screamed. “Get over here and help me!”
“What is it?”
“I need you now! It’s Doc!”
Jimmy charged into the open shed to where Doc hung suspended by his neck. His fingers were clawing at the extension cord that he’d used to hang himself. Doc’s face was blue, but there was still life in his eyes as he stood on the very tips of his toes. Jimmy ran to him and lifted Doc’s lifeless body with all of his strength. “Oh, Doc!” Jimmy cried.
“Hang on, big guy!”
Julie was suddenly inside the shed and wordlessly attacked the other end of the extension cord. “The knot is too tight!” she hissed. “Goddamn it, Doc! What the hell were you thinking?”
Doc gurgled in response.
“Find a shovel!” yelled Jimmy, who was feeling Doc’s every pound. “Hurry, I can’t hold him!”
“Right, a shovel! Where are the shovels?”
“I don’t know! Find something!”
“There’s nothing in here!”
“The axe! Go out and grab Ken’s axe!”
“Good idea!” agreed Julie and ran out the door.
Doc began to choke and convulse just as Julie returned with the axe. She didn’t hesitate and struck the cord twice before it snapped which sent both men sprawling on the wet concrete floor. Doc vomited, and his breath came in wheezing grunts. Jimmy quickly untangled himself from Doc’s lanky limbs, happy to see the color already returning to his friend’s face.
“Don’t tell…” stammered Doc. “Please.”
Julie stood over him and shook her head. “What the hell were you thinking? My God! Don’t you ever try something like that ever again. Do you understand me? We need you!”
“Don’t tell Ken,” whispered Doc, feebly throwing the noose from his neck.
“We promise,” Jimmy said, staring at the angry purple indentation that looped around Doc’s neck. Jimmy doubted that the telltale ligature marks would ever disappear.
“Thank you. I… don’t know what to say. Can I please have a moment to myself?” Doc whispered.
Both Jimmy and Julie nodded, and Jimmy waited until he was back outside before trying to clean himself up. The moment had been as surreal as any he had ever experienced. He had never saved a man’s life before, and the realization left him thunderstruck and trembling. Glen was waiting for them in the snow, and soon they finished dragging him behind the shed. Jimmy removed one of the old canvas tarps from the woodpile and began to cover Glen. Julie noticed something and pointed down to the base of the woodpile.
Jimmy followed her finger, and he suddenly let go of the tarp and covered his face. The hideous body of Patty’s beloved cat lay there. Whiskers, completely furless and frozen stiff, was as blue as a summer sky. Life number nine had officially expired. “Ah, shit,” Jimmy said. “Can anything else go wrong?”
“Come on,” Julie said. “I want to hear what Paula has to say about all of this. She knew all along—don’t you believe her if she says that she didn’t.”
“I won’t believe a word she says, so what’s the point of even going inside?” Jimmy asked, suddenly feeling oddly protective of Paula.
“Because I hate her guts, and I want to hear it!”
Jimmy shrunk back at the words. “Okay,” he said, holding up his hands. “Let’s go hear what she has to say.”
“Besides,” Julie said, pointing at him with a disgusted look on her face. “You need to get in the bathroom. You’ve got chunks of puke in your hair.”
Jimmy didn’t know how to respond to that. He simply nodded and began to walk to the back door. Julie followed. “Let’s make this fast. We still have to scrape Glen’s brains off the wall,” he said. “Besides, they could attack again any minute.”
“What are you worried about, Jimmy? Do you think I’m going to kill her?”
“Maybe...”
Julie stopped and gripped Jimmy’s arm with surprising strength. “I’d never do that. Let me rephrase that. I would never attack her first. How does that sound? But if that little bitch ever gets in my face, it’s on. Personally, I think we should just toss her over the wall.”
Jimmy scratched his head, and his hand came away feeling sticky. He grimaced and began to walk toward the house.
“I had no idea that they were going to start shooting,” protested Paula. “I swear as God as my witness. They never said a word about any of that to me! I just wanted to get back home!”
“This isn’t your home,” growled Julie.
“That’s enough,” said Patty. “I believe her.”
“Are you kidding me?” Julie asked, in obvious disbelief.
“Don’t you ever challenge me inside my kitchen, young lady,” Patty said, but not in a way that was unkind. “We can sort all of this out later. What we need to do is get some hot coffee and warm clothes down to the men. Paula, get going on that coffee!”
“What?” Paula asked, sounding completely puzzled. “I’ve never made coffee.”
“Well, it’s high time that you learned how!”
Jimmy, his hair towel dried and clean, took Julie by the hand. “Come on,” he said. “Patty is right. We need to find some warm clothes for the guys. You might want to change yourself. We could be out there all night.”
Julie nodded, but she seemed preoccupied with something. Jimmy watched as she approached Paula who was fumbling around in Patty’s tall, painted-white cupboards. “He’s mine,” she hissed, taking a hold of Paula’s upper arm. “Don’t you even dream of making a play for him, do you understand me?”
Paula looked to Patty for protection, but Patty only glared at her. “That’s right,” she said. “You stay away from Jimmy. And you stay away from my Ken, too. I know your type.”
Julie smiled at Patty and turned on her heels and walked
past a flabbergasted Jimmy who was thinking that he’d never understand women. He shook his head and followed her as Paula began to slam the cupboard doors.
“Stop that this instant!” Patty was heard saying as they turned the corner into the living room.
The next few hours were some of the longest that Jimmy had ever spent. The quiet was nearly too much for him. They had all had their fill of Paula’s strong version of trucker’s coffee, and the caffeine had made them all jumpy. Jimmy and Julie had just spent the last hour patrolling the perimeter. Wart sat on the walkway with his back against the wall, cradling the big .50 caliber in his lap. Ken stood at the gate with Julie and Jimmy. The sun was just starting to drop in the sky, and the temperature had already begun to trail off.
“What do you think they’ll do?” Julie asked.
“They’ll attack us tonight,” Ken said, nodding his head. He wore a wool cap over his head and had dressed in his warm duck-hunting camouflage.
Jimmy was dressed in Jon’s camo jacket and a pair of bibs. He was warm, almost too warm. He knew that would change soon enough. “I think you’re right, Ken,” he said. “Where do you think they’ll try hitting us?”
“Could be anywhere, but my guess is that they’ll try to draw us out with some type of diversion. Then,” he said, scratching his unshaven chin. “I think they’ll try sneaking over the wall.”
Julie nodded. “That’s just what I was thinking.”
“We’ll never be able to hold them off,” Jimmy said. “Not with only four guns.”
“Make that six!” said Bill, as he gimpishly made his way down the stairs. He was dressed in one of the musty old parkas from the basement and was carrying two shotguns.
“You should get back to bed,” scolded Julie. “At least wait until they attack again.”
Bill shook his head. “We don’t have much time,” he said, grimacing as he spoke. He moved into their circle and held his hands to his lips. “I have a plan,” he whispered. “Ken, I want you to bring me all the grenades you have. Jimmy, you help him. Julie, get in the basement and find me some duct tape and fishing line. I want the best stuff Ken has.”
“Brilliant!” exclaimed Ken. “Come on, let’s move! Booby-traps, why didn’t I think of that?”
“Right on,” said Wart.
“Quiet,” whispered Bill. “They could be closer than we think.”
Julie’s jaw dropped, and she gave Jimmy a confused look. They then left the paradoxical Bill standing at the wall in his smelly winter gear.
The process was tedious, and it took them until it was nearly dark to place the grenades where they would be most effective. Bill nearly stumbled across one of his own tripwires—twice—which had scared the hell out of Jimmy. Satisfied, they returned to the front where they were shocked to see Doc and Patty standing at the gate, each wearing a rifle slung over their shoulders.
“Cindy is sitting with Paula,” Patty said, holding her gloved hand up with her finger pointed and thumb raised. “She won’t be helping anyone, just in case she had any ideas to do so.”
Doc was wearing a scarf around his neck, and his expression was grim. “What are you looking at?” he asked Jimmy. “I’m done being the nice guy. Screw the oath!”
“That’s the spirit!” said Wart, from his perch on the wall. “Let’s kick some ass and take down some names!”
“This is so wrong,” Patty said. “But, I’m excited.”
Julie nodded and gave Patty a quick hug. “Just don’t think about it when the shooting starts. Those people want to kill Ken, do you hear me?”
“I’ll kill anyone who tries!”
“Me, too,” agreed Bill.
“Can I get an Amen?” called Wart from the wall.
“Will you clowns knock it off?” Ken asked.
They all laughed at that, and Jimmy felt a warm feeling of camaraderie as they stood there with their guns. They had been backed into another battle, but they were as ready as they were ever going to be, and Jimmy hoped that the attack would come sooner than later. The last of the daylight lingered as what little breeze there had been died away. The air was still, and the only sound was that of a distant crow.
One of them wouldn’t live to see the sunrise.
Chapter 35
Hours passed, and the clear night was lit by a billion stars and a moon that was a just few days past full. The mid-March air was unseasonably warm, hovering somewhere close to freezing despite the lack of cloud cover. Jimmy paced near the gate, carrying his M-16 over his shoulder and two hand grenades in each of his jacket pockets. They took shifts inside the darkened house drinking coffee and warming their feet. Jimmy and Ken were now manning the wall while the others watched from the dead-black windows of the porch.
“It won’t be long now,” Ken whispered. “I can feel them out there, can’t you?”
Jimmy wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but he nodded his head. He was certain that they were close and would attack when Jenkins thought they were ready. He wondered about the man—tall, thin, roughly his own age with a wife and half a dozen young children. He seemed to have been a God-fearing Christian as a follower of Sister Margaret, but he had readily picked up arms against his fellow men when it had suited his purposes. Jimmy knew that he couldn’t be trusted and that if he ever had the chance, he would have to kill Jerry Jenkins. Like Glen Putnam, Jenkins would return to darken their doorway. That couldn’t happen again.
Jimmy wondered about how much the world had changed, but what really shook him was how much the people had changed. Jenkins and his starving army, like so many others, had decided that they could simply take whatever it was that they needed to survive. Jimmy couldn’t understand it, but he also knew that he and his people were very fortunate to have what they did. He hoped he wouldn’t act like Jenkins if he were in that situation. They were all only a few heartbeats away from death. Knowing that, Jimmy thought it was incredibly foolish for men like Jenkins to meet their Maker on bad terms.
There was no hiding the snapping of dry pine branches or crunching of footsteps on the snow-covered floor of the woods outside the wall. They were coming in a rush, and Jimmy suddenly felt his pulse in his temples.
“It’s on!” Ken hissed to the shadows on the porch. “Let’s go!”
Tiny flashes of orange light flickered during a sudden thunderstorm of gunshots. The closest flashes were still some fifty feet from the wall, but much too close for Jimmy’s comfort. Bullets whizzed over his head, and dozens more slammed into the pine barrier.
A loud explosion from the back caused Jimmy to jump, and it was quickly followed by three more. The screaming started again, and Jimmy knew that some of those frantic yelps were coming from women. God have mercy, Jimmy thought. He then began firing his weapon into the moving shadows. Another exploding hand grenade rocked the night air, followed by another.
Ken moved behind Jimmy on the walkway. “Some of them may have gotten through,” Ken shouted into Jimmy’s ear. “Keep them busy while the others get in position!”
Jimmy nodded grimly as another tripwire yielded its deadly payload. Great wails of pain echoed off the house. Ken brushed by Jimmy and headed for the ladder, his heavy footfalls causing the walkway to bounce. When Jimmy stole a look down the wall, he saw Julie racing across the walkway where Ken had been running only a moment before. Julie was squeezing off shots as she ran. The .50 caliber suddenly opened up, and Jimmy looked the other way at Wart, who had somehow sneaked past him and had gotten to his post without Jimmy noticing. The muzzle flash revealed a maniacal smile on Wart’s hardened face. Jimmy returned his attention to the attackers.
“Where’s Ken?” shouted Patty during a momentary lapse in the gunfire.
Jimmy looked down and saw Patty, who was dressed in one of the old one-piece snowmobile suits, standing in the snow below him. Even in the darkness, Jimmy could see that Patty’s glasses were completely fogged over. Jimmy pointed to the side of the house and hollered at Patty to stay where she was, but Wart h
ad begun spraying the woods with a deadly hail of automatic fire, and his voice was lost in the deafening chatter. Patty nodded.
“Jimmy!” Julie screamed.
Jimmy turned his head just as a thirty-foot section of their wall, the section that Julie defended, burst into flames. He ducked low and shielded his eyes with his right arm, giving his eyes a second to adjust to the blazing light. Jimmy could see Julie, her weapon pointing straight down over the top of the wall as she popped off one shot after another. Jimmy turned, but Patty had already disappeared into the night. He quickly caught sight of Bill, who moved like an undead character in a George A. Romero movie. Bill was also heading toward the back of the house, but only as fast as his crippled back would allow. There was no sign of Patty, and Jimmy suddenly wished he would’ve lied to her. The backyard wasn’t safe, not for anyone.
Jimmy had never seen a Molotov cocktail explode until just a microsecond before one shattered at his feet. The gasoline splashed on Jimmy’s outerwear, and he was suddenly flaming like a human Yule log. He dropped his carbine and quickly began beating at the flames. Jimmy could feel his exposed wrists burning, along with part of his neck. The pain caused him to leap from the walkway and into the ground below, where he began to flop and roll on the crusty snowpack. Julie was suddenly on top of him, beating on his smoldering jacket and flaming bibs.
Desperate Times 2 Gun Control Page 28