Stealing Second (The Amendments Book One 1)

by Nicholas Antinozzi

The run wasn’t far, but it seemed like it took hours to cross both lanes of the empty freeway. I kept waiting for the explosion of gunfire. Violet was faster than I was, but only by a few steps. Bob stayed by my side, carrying his assault rifle at the ready. His pack and mine kept perfect time as they slapped against our backs. We crossed the median and then the northbound lanes. I was winded by the time we hit the ditch and sloshed through water that was nearly a foot deep. Still, there was no traffic coming in either direction and we continued running up to the opposite fence.

  Panting, I helped Violet up and over the fence. Once again, I tossed her the duffel bag and then dropped my pack down to her. Bob dropped his pack next to mine. I scaled the fence and lost my grip at the top. I grunted and fell down onto Violet’s side. Thankfully, the only thing hurt was my pride, and I was back on my feet before Bob made it over. Bob handed me his assault rifle, and I set it down on top of his pack. We quickly strapped our packs on and set out to the east. We had made it across and finally dared to hope that we would make it to the farm.

  We walked the quarter mile to Highway 61 amid a series of lightning flashes. Violet clung to my hand as we slogged along in our wet shoes. Bob jogged a few paces in front of us and stopped us. “Don’t look up in the trees,” he said. “Trust me; you don’t want to see what’s up there.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about and stupidly, I asked him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “They’ve been hanging the rebels as a warning to others,” he hissed. “The U.N. soldiers are doing it, the dirty bastards. Just keep your eyes on the road.”

  “Oh my God,” whispered Violet. “That’s horrible.”

  “A trick they learned from the Nazis,” replied Bob. “I hate them.”

  We walked about another block before we spotted the first body. The sad-looking man appeared like a specter in the night, illuminated by a powerful flash of lightning. Violet covered her mouth to stifle a scream and began to sob. Thunder rolled in the distance. Bob picked up the pace, but the approaching storm only revealed more bodies hanging from the limbs of the oak trees that lined the highway. Printed crudely on signs were versions of the same message: This is what happens to rebels! Reading it only made my blood boil that much hotter. I stopped counting at thirty victims when I saw the body of a boy who couldn’t have been much older than Violet. She was still sobbing and I knew she would have nightmares about this for the rest of her life.

  Thankfully, we arrived at the gravel road that led to the farm. There were no trees here, only pastures and fields of corn and soybeans. Slowly, Violet began to pull herself together. I saw no lights in the few farmhouses we passed and I began to wonder if my family had survived.

  Our farmhouse sat nearly a quarter mile off of the gravel road. I paused at the end of the driveway and stared up into the blackness. “This is it,” I said. “When we get up to the house, I’ll have you two wait in the shed. I don’t want to scare my folks; they’re pretty old. I’ll explain our situation to them and I’m sure they’ll understand. They’re great people. I’ll come back out and get you as soon as I do. Just try to be quiet, okay? We don’t want to wake up Gunner and Thor.”

  “Who are they?” asked Violet, tersely.

  “Those are my German shepherds,” I said, rubbing my hand on top of her head. “And you’re going to love them.”

  “I can’t thank you enough, Gary,” said Bob. “I couldn’t keep up the charade any longer. They would have found me out. I’m pretty sure they already knew… and I know I would’ve wound up at the end of a rope. I owe you my life.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I’m glad to have you along.”

  We shook hands and began walking up the sugar-sand driveway. My stomach was in knots. I expected Gunner and Thor to start barking at any second. What would my father do if they did? I prayed he wouldn’t run out the door with a gun. I wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter. We heard the rain approaching as it began pelting against the corn in the fields. By the time we reached the shed, the sky opened up and it began to pour. Thunder crashed and the rain was illuminated by a fat bolt of lightning. I led them inside into the darkness and Bob quickly switched on his red-beamed flashlight.

  With the rain pounding against the shingled roof of the shed, I began to rethink my plan. “I think I’m going to wait this thing out,” I said into Bob’s ear. He nodded his head and I repeated the same thing to Violet.

  “Good idea,” she said, her words nearly drowned out by the rain.

  Our shed was the size of a small barn and parked inside of it were the two John Deere tractors and some of the other farm machinery of my father’s. The shed was old, but like everything else on the farm, it was well cared for and in pristine condition. Against the far wall, hay bales were stacked up to the peaked roof of the twenty foot ceiling. Using Bob’s light, we situated a few of the bales into a big bed of sorts and Violet and I both stretched out on top of them. With Bob sitting at our feet, Violet curled up next to me and we laid there in the blackness, listening to the storm above us.

  Chapter 8

  I don’t remember falling asleep, but I was exhausted and it quickly overtook me. Bob began shaking my leg and I awoke with a start. He held his finger to his lips and pointed to Violet. She was curled up into a fetal position and was sound asleep. Outside, dawn was just beginning to break and the sound of crickets had replaced the driving rain. Carefully, I slid down to the end of the hay bales and I got to my feet. Bob pointed to the house and I rubbed my eyes and nodded my head. I walked over to one of the windows and peered up at the old house. The tall white farmhouse looked like something out of a storybook, with dormered windows and a sprawling porch; it was the farmhouse that set the standard for others. I was so happy to see it. There was no sign of life, but it was still early and both of my parents’ vehicles were parked in the driveway.

  In the daylight, I was finally able to get a good look at Bob. He was older than I had imagined, a well-preserved man whom I guessed to be in his early forties. He was extremely fit with a square jaw and deep creases around the corners of his eyes. He was of average height with a solid build and his short brown hair was just starting to gray at the temples. His rugged face was set in a stern expression and I imagined him as a city cop or a career fireman.

  I walked to the door and stepped outside. I hadn’t made it halfway up to the house when Gunner began to bark. Thor soon followed. I walked up to the door and tried the knob. I shook my head when it turned and opened. I had never known my parents to lock their house, even when they went to town. I had hoped that under the current circumstances, they would have mended their ways. I should have known better. Thor was the first out the door, quickly followed by Gunner. They nearly tackled me before I could step inside. Thankfully, they followed me back into the house.

  “Who’s there?” called my mother’s voice, cautiously. “Gary, is that you?”

  “Is Gary here?” asked my father, excitedly.

  Although I had yet to see them, I was immediately overcome with emotion. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I sank to my haunches. “Yes,” I cried, “it’s me. Mom, Dad, I’m home…” I couldn’t say another word and I sat there as Gunner and Thor slobbered their tongues across my face and hands. I looked up to see my parents standing over me. Both were crying. I struggled to my feet and they took me into their arms. I don’t remember ever feeling such a powerful sense of love and relief. Cheryl, my sister, let out a whoop of joy and rushed in to join us.

  After composing myself, I explained what had happened and told them about my two friends out in the shed. Cheryl and her husband Duke stayed inside with their kids and the dogs while I took my folks out to the shed to meet my friends.

  I invited Bob outside to meet my parents and stepped inside to wake Violet. She had been through so much. I didn’t want to further traumatize her. “Hey kiddo,” I said, gently shaking her shoe. “Wake up. I’ve got some people who want to meet you.”

  Violet popped
up and rubbed her eyes. She stared at the open door and turned back to me. “Are they mad at you?” she asked.

  “Of course not,” I said, giving her my best smile. “They’re excited to meet you. You’re going to love it here. I can’t wait to show you around.”

  “Thank you,” she said, meekly.

  I helped her to her feet and we walked outside, hand in hand. “Mom, Dad, this is Violet. Violet, this is my mom Doreen and my dad Fred.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Violet said, politely.

  I should have known what would happen next. Mom smothered Violet in a hug and after allowing Dad a moment to shake Violet’s hand, she was ushering my little friend up into the house. Violet turned back to me as if to ask for help, but I only smiled and shook my head. I knew she was in the best of hands. They stepped inside and Gunner and Thor gave a couple of excited barks, but they were soon quiet. I imagined them fawning all over the newcomer inside their home.

  Dad and Bob seemed to hit it off and we walked down past the shed toward the barn. Bob talked about his moral convictions against the occupation, which was the first time I had ever heard it put that way. Finally, I began to grasp our situation. We were at war, and we were at war with our own government. I stared across the misty fields at the orange glow of the approaching sunrise. I had never imagined that this day would come.

  “I’ve got to get out of this uniform,” said Bob. “We’re all in danger if anyone sees me wearing it. You wouldn’t happen to have anything I could change into, would you?”

  My old man studied Bob for a moment. “Just what is it you plan to do?” he asked. “If they catch you, you’ll be shot as a deserter.”

  “Not if I shoot them first. Fred, I need to hook up with the resistance. I know what these bastards are up to and how we can fight them. There isn’t a lot of time. I can’t stay here with you. I’d be putting you all in serious danger.”

  Dad considered that for a moment. He then turned to me. “Can we trust him?” he asked.

  “He helped Violet and me get across the interstate,” I said. “He could have easily captured us, but he didn’t. I think we can trust him.”

  Dad scratched the stubble on his chin. He looked years older than the last time I had seen him only a month ago. He had always been a big man, even among big men, but now he seemed less sure of himself. His arthritic hands, large and strong as they were, trembled slightly, and his steel eyes were uncommonly shifty. “I hope to God you’re right,” he said, finally. “Gary, take Bob into the house and help find him some clothes. He’s welcome to whatever he wants. When he’s changed, bag up his uniform and haul it out to the pigpen. I want you boys to bury it, and be sure to bury it deep. I’m going to take a walk over to the neighbors. I think we can set Bob on the right path. Make sure he gets a good breakfast in him. He’s going to need it.”

  “Thanks Fred,” said Bob. “You won’t regret this.”

  “I know I won’t. I only wish we had a thousand more like you. You’re right about us not having much time. In a few days, all of this will be a memory. I’m going to fight these dirty sons a bitches until I take my last breath. You can count on that.”

  I watched my dad turn and walk away. “He’s a good man,” I said to Bob. “All he ever wanted was to be left alone to run his farm.”

  “That’s all anyone wanted, Gary. We just wanted to be left alone to run our lives, but that was too much to ask. I want you to join me. I’ll make a soldier out of you and together we can fight to save your dad’s farm. You don’t have to make up your mind this minute, but I want you to seriously consider what I’m asking. Your dad was right. We need every man we can get.”

  A chatter of machine gun fire broke the silence, followed by the popping of single shots. I knew at that moment what I had to do. “I don’t know the first thing about being a soldier,” I confessed, “but I’ll go wherever I’m needed. I can’t sit back and allow this to happen.”

  Bob slapped me on the back. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he said. “I’ve got to get out of this uniform. Those drones are everywhere. If one of them catches me on camera … well, it’ll be the end of all of us.”

  I nodded. “Come on,” I said. “I’ll get you fixed up.”

  As Dad ambled up the driveway, Bob and I walked back to the house. Gunner and Thor growled suspiciously at Bob and despite my urges, they held their ground. We walked into Mom’s spacious kitchen and found the girls busying themselves making breakfast. Violet sat peeling potatoes and was giving Mom and Cheryl her short life story. She hadn’t noticed us and I listened in on their conversation. I was hoping to get us some coffee, but I didn’t want to interrupt them while they bonded. I waved Bob out and we walked upstairs to my bedroom.

  “Ma still thinks I’m going to pack it in and come back to the farm,” I said. “She’s kept my room for ten years.”

  “You’re a lucky man, Gary,” said Bob.

  I dug around in my closet and found a decade-old pair of blue jeans. My stomach had swelled three sizes since I had last put them on and I chuckled as I held them up. “These are size thirty-four, I said. Will they work?”

  “I usually wear a thirty-two, but they’ll do. Thanks.”

  I found him a green pocket t-shirt and pointed him to the dresser and closet. “Take whatever you like. None of this stuff fits me anymore. I’ve got some decent boots in there if you dig far enough. Go ahead and get changed. I’ll go grab us a couple cups of coffee and a plastic bag for your uniform.”

  “Coffee sounds great,” said Bob.

  I left him in my room and closed the door. I then walked back downstairs where Duke and the kids were now congregating. I paused at the door. Duke, Cheryl’s husband, was dressed in pajamas and wore a bathrobe and slippers. He was a bookkeeper and he was perfectly suited for his work. He was tall and impossibly thin. He had an odd look and I had always thought my sister could have done better in the looks department. He had a long face with short blonde hair and he wore horn-rimmed glasses. And while Duke may have been a geek, he was a good provider and a loving father and husband. My sister stood next to him at the counter. Cheryl’s black hair was long and tied back in a simple ponytail. She had been the Homecoming Queen at our high school and still had the athletic figure of her youth. She was a country girl and like my parents, had deep religious convictions.

  Matt was three and Janis was five and the two children sat together at the kitchen table eating cold cereal. They were well-mannered and good-looking kids, the kind you see on television commercials. Janis was already developing motherly instincts and she and her brother were as close as two peas in a pod.

  Mom stood with her back to me at the stove. She was a large woman of sixty-two, with wide hips and a permanent smile on her face. She wore her hair as she always had, pinned up and still a chocolate brown, although I knew it was colored. She had the strong arms and hands of a farmer and she wore a white apron over a simple cotton dress. Violet had just finished peeling the potatoes as I stepped into the kitchen. “Mom already put you to work, huh?” I asked.

  “I don’t mind,” she said, shyly. “I like to help.”

  “Isn’t she the sweetest thing?” asked Mom, turning away from the stove. “God bless you for bringing her here. Lord knows I can use the help.”

  “And what is that supposed to mean?” asked Cheryl, jokingly.

  “I don’t remember you asking to help in the kitchen at eleven years old,” replied Mom with a wink.

  “I’m twelve,” said Violet, “almost. I’ll be twelve in September. I help my grandma in the kitchen all the time. You’d like her, she’s really nice.”

  “I’m sure we would,” said Cheryl. “She sure has a wonderful granddaughter.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Isn’t she a peach,” said Duke, awkwardly. Duke rarely spoke and I knew it was because he was terribly introverted. Cheryl said he had been mercilessly teased as a child, but that he was a different man when he felt safe in his own home.
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  “She sure is,” I said, as I made my way over to the coffee pot. I took two cups out of the cupboard and filled each of them while the others chatted. I was happy to hear their good-natured banter and it seemed that Violet was adjusting nicely to them. I knew it was going to break her heart when I told her I was leaving with Bob to fight in the resistance. I could only pray that she understood.

  Bob appeared a minute later, dressed in my old clothes from my days in high school. The jeans were cuffed and he wore an old pair of my favorite hiking boots; the same pair I had been secretly hoping I’d wear. He carried his pack in one hand and cradled his uniform in the other. I stepped past Cheryl and reached under the sink to find a trash bag. I handed it to Bob.

  “Everyone,” I said. “This is Bob. He helped Violet and me make it here last night. We owe him our lives.”

  Bob seemed to flush with embarrassment and shook his head. “You two would have made it just fine,” he said. “I’m glad to meet you all. I can’t thank you enough for your hospitality. Did I hear someone mention coffee?”

  I held up his cup as he dropped his uniform into the black plastic bag. “Here you go,” I said. “You never said how you take it.”

  “Black is fine,” he said, taking the cup from me. He sipped at it and a satisfied smile crept across his face. “Oh, that tastes so good. The stuff the military passes off as coffee is terrible.”

  We visited for roughly half an hour before Bob picked up the plastic bag and nodded to the door. “I want to get rid of this stuff,” he said. “You never know when a patrol might stop by.”

  “That’s probably a good idea,” said Mom. “They’ve been out here snooping around three times, already.”

  Bob and I walked outside and down to the shed. I grabbed a couple of spade shovels and handed one to Bob. “The pigpen is back behind the barn. I don’t think we have any pigs at the moment. Dad sold them off this spring, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t stink. I just wanted to warn you. My guess is that the old man thinks it’ll be the last place anyone searches.”