Without II: The Fall

by E. E. Borton

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” said Castle. “Where are they?”

  “They’re dead,” said Perry.

  “You executed my men?” asked Castle, raising his voice while leaning forward in his seat.

  “They beat and raped a twelve-year-old girl and murdered two other children in their group,” said Perry. “I took offense to that and dealt with them accordingly.”

  “So that’s how you train new soldiers?” said Castle, looking over his shoulder at Captain Braun. “To rape and kill children?”

  “No, sir,” said Braun, still standing at attention. “Major Whitaker was still on probation for the last incident. I did not recommend that he lead the scout team, sir. It wasn’t my call.”

  “I’ll deal with you later, Captain. You’re dismissed.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Braun, saluting and then leaving the tent.

  “Goddamned militia,” said Castle, gritting his teeth. “I had a feeling those worthless hillbillies fucked up again. They had one simple job, and they couldn’t even get that right.”

  “I’m sorry it had to come to that,” said Perry, sensing the General understood our actions. “I also wanted to tell you in person so we could figure out a way to help each other out.”

  “Well, unfortunately, Major Whitaker screwed that up as well,” said Castle. “The news that our men were killed by locals is going to spread like a virus through the camp. They’re going to want blood. We sent him to Bridgeport to deliver a message, but now I have to send a new one.”

  “What message is that?” I asked, feeling my gut punching my spine.

  “One that you’ll be delivering in person, errand boy,” said Castle, nodding to the men behind us and then pulling out a large knife.

  Before I could react, a white light filled the room as the butt of a rifle slammed into the back of my head. When I hit the ground, a boot stepped on my neck, and I felt hands gripping my arms and legs. The last thing I remembered was looking up at my uncle as if we were both in a dream. He was grasping his throat while blood sprayed out from between his fingers. Then my world went dark.

  Chapter 19

  Killing the Messenger

  I was unconscious for a just few minutes, but it was enough time for them to bind my hands and feet. As they pulled me up to the chair, I could feel blood dripping down the back of my neck. As the fog lifted from my vision, I watched them drag my uncle’s lifeless body by his feet out of the tent. I couldn’t catch my breath. I couldn’t say a word.

  General Castle was talking to a group of soldiers when he noticed I was conscious. He motioned for them to leave and pulled a chair up close to me. I tried to free my hands as he sat down.

  “Are you with me, boy?” asked Castle.

  I nodded.

  “Good,” said Castle. “My XO is drafting a letter that you need to deliver to the good people of Bridgeport, Stevenson, and Scottsboro. Oh, I’m sorry, you’re not familiar with military protocol. XO stands for executive officer. He’s the second-in-command. You still with me?”

  I lowered my head and nodded. I didn’t see him stand, but I felt the hard slap across my face. He leaned in close to my ear.

  “A few minutes ago you couldn’t keep that smart mouth shut,” said Castle. “You respond verbally to me when I ask you a question, or I’ll find someone else to deliver my message and bury you next to your boss. Did you understand that?”

  Don’t die here. Live to kill this man. Live to kill all of them.

  “Yes, sir,” I said, raising my head and taking a deep breath. “I understand.”

  “Good,” said Castle, sitting. “That’s the only way any of you are going to live through this. The irony here is that I sent six of my worst men in that scouting party to save your town, not bargain with it. I was hoping they’d run into a little trouble out there as punishment for being useless. Apparently they found a lot of trouble. Trust me when I say the rest of my men aren’t as easy to kill.”

  “To save us?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said Castle, crossing his arms. “I don’t normally announce my presence or my intentions. The element of surprise has worked well for us in towns that have been taken over by gangs and savages. We remove those bad elements and reestablish stable leadership.”

  “We haven’t been taken over by anything,” I said. “And you just killed our stable leadership.”

  “You don’t know when to stop running that mouth, do you, boy?”

  “I’ve been told that in the past,” I said, forgetting my plan of staying alive.

  “I bet,” said Castle, chuckling. “It doesn’t matter who you had in charge; he would’ve been replaced by one of our representatives. He’d still be alive if he hadn’t killed my men. I can’t show an ounce of weakness to my troops. The moment I do, they’ll stop following orders. I can’t have that.

  “I was going to spare your town the standard treatment once I confirmed that the rumors were true.”

  “What rumors are those?” I asked.

  “That you hadn’t been overrun and that everything was basically intact.”

  “Including the train,” I said.

  “You seem to know a little bit more than an errand boy,” said Castle, grinning. “Maybe I killed the wrong man. So the rumors are true.”

  “They are,” I said. “It’s sitting on the tracks in Bridgeport.”

  “That’s good news for you,” said Castle. “You just make sure it stays there and the people understand their position. If anything happens to that train or a single shot is fired at us, I’ll consider it an act of treason. I’ll kill every last one of you and burn your town to the ground. Understood?”

  “An act of treason against who?” I asked.

  “You’ve got spirit, but you’re not very bright,” said Castle. “Let me dumb this down for you. I’m a general in the United States Army. And before you ask your next dumb question, yes, there still is a United States Army – and a government. Anyone who lives in this country will still follow its laws and its leadership. I’m that leadership until I come across someone who outranks me.”

  “You killed an unarmed man who was trying his best to avoid a fight,” I said. “I don’t see you winning too many hearts and minds with those tactics.”

  “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed,” said Castle, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward in his chair, “but a few things have changed. Old tactics and diplomacy don’t work anymore. Brute force is the only action that gets people’s attention and keeps it. I swore an oath to defend the Constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic. Whatever it takes, I’m going to keep that oath.”

  My uncle never had a chance with this man. The more he spoke, the more I realized how far he had separated himself from reality. The general was preying on the hopes of survivors that eventually the government would come to their rescue. I had never held those same hopes. I still didn’t.

  General Castle was no better than the gangs and savages lurking around every corner waiting for the opportunity to make someone a victim. I thought parents trying to protect their children would become the most dangerous people in the world. Once again, I was wrong. Turns out it’s the preachers and the generals.

  As I listened to the madman ramble on about his interpretation of God, country, and the reestablishment of the government, Captain Braun entered the tent with another soldier holding a first aid kit. They both stood at attention until the general acknowledged their presence. When he finished his speech, they examined the wound on the back of my head.

  “It’s not bad, sir,” said Braun.

  “Good,” said Castle. “I don’t want him bleeding out on the trail. Patch him up, give him the letter, and then send him on his way. If he gives you any trouble, kill him and we’ll send someone else.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Remember everything I told you, Henry,” said Castle, standing, “and you just might live to see another day or two. Cross me and you won’t.”

 
“What are you going to do with Perry’s body?” I asked. “I’d like to know so his family can come visit him when all of this is over.”

  “You deliver that message first,” said Castle. “When I see that train in Bridgeport, I’ll tell you where he is.”

  Captain Braun took the general’s seat a few moments after he left the tent. He sat holding an envelope while the medic worked on the cut on the back of my head. When the bleeding stopped, the medic cut through my restraints, raised his rifle, and took a step back.

  “I’m going to escort you to the edge of camp,” said Braun. “You do anything stupid and you’ll be cut down by my men. You’ll be in their crosshairs until you reach the interstate. Am I making myself clear?”

  “Crystal.”

  “Let’s go,” said Braun, drawing his sidearm.

  I had a feeling it was more for show than a genuine fear of me. Out of all the soldiers I had come across in the camp, both professional and militia, he seemed the most reasonable. My gut told me I didn’t need to fear him. He was walking a few feet behind me when he spoke. He was making sure nobody else could hear us.

  “I’m sorry for what happened to your friend,” said Braun, keeping his distance behind me.

  “He was more than that,” I said, hoping my gut feeling about him was right. “He was my uncle.”

  “Jesus Christ,” whispered Braun, moving closer. “Castle isn’t what I consider a real general. He was a lieutenant colonel in the National Guard when the power went out. I guess you could say he was self-promoted. He had never been in combat his entire career until now. He has a genuine dislike for those of us who were. The feeling is mutual.”

  “You call what he did to my uncle combat?” I asked, keeping my eyes forward. “You call what your soldiers did to those unarmed civilians combat?”

  “No,” said Braun. “I call that murder, so if you can direct me to the local sheriff, I’d gladly swear out a warrant.”

  “Point taken,” I said.

  “Listen, there just isn’t a force big enough to challenge him,” said Braun. “If there were, I’d be on it. A few of the other soldiers and vets feel the same way. Until we’re strong enough to challenge him, the safest place to be is here with him.”

  “It wasn’t for my uncle,” I said.

  “For what it’s worth, I am sorry,” said Braun. “I didn’t know he was going to kill him. I give you my word, I didn’t know.”

  “No offense, but it’s a little difficult trusting your word.”

  “To be honest, I probably wouldn’t have been able to stop it anyway. He respects my skill, not my opinions.”

  “Is this little chat going somewhere?” I asked. “I have a message to deliver, remember?”

  “Hold up,” said Braun, taking a few more steps. “Turn around.”

  Captain Braun holstered his weapon. We were far enough away from prying ears. He stood for a moment and looked me in the eyes before he spoke.

  “The best thing for you and your people to do is run,” said Braun, handing me the letter. “Head south and just let him walk over that bridge and take that train. If you don’t, it’ll be a slaughter.

  “He’ll kill your military-aged men, the sick and elderly, and pass your women around to his militia. They’ll take a few of your children back to the compound north of Chattanooga, but most will be left behind to work. I’ve seen it happen. He wants to keep the people in the supporting towns weak and terrified of him.

  “I have nothing to gain from telling you this, but everything to lose. He’d execute me for treason if he found out I was talking to you.”

  “You’re helping me out of the goodness of your heart?” I asked.

  “Does it really matter why?” asked Captain Braun.

  “As a matter of fact, it does.”

  “Listen, you don’t have much time,” said Braun. “In that letter, he says you have three days to respond to his terms, or we’ll take the town and the train by force. That’s a lie. We’re coming for you tomorrow.”

  My mind was still filled with images of them cutting my uncle’s throat in front of me. My heart was filled with nothing but pain and rage. I worried it was clouding my judgment about trusting him. If his intent was to help us, we’d have a much better chance of slaughtering them. If I was wrong about him, I’d be reunited with my uncle much sooner than later.

  “Fake an injury tonight,” I said, risking everything and everybody left that I cared about. “Twist your ankle, break a toe. I don’t care what it is, just do it. Make sure you’re lagging behind the main force.”

  “I need a little more information than that,” said Braun, making me doubt I made the right choice.

  “We only have a few rifles in Bridgeport with very little ammunition,” I said, trying to recover with lies. “But we have enough explosives tied to that bridge to drop it into the river. Make sure you’re not on it.”

  “Okay,” said Braun. “Thank you. I appreciate you telling me that. I’m usually the guy leading from the front. The general prefers to command from the rear.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” I said. “I’m still not sure I can trust you.”

  “I promise you that you can.”

  “One more thing,” I said. “I want you to deliver a message to the general for me.”

  “Sure.”

  “Tell him he was right. He did kill the wrong man.”

  Chapter 20

  Confidence

  After a few minutes of walking, my knees started to give under the enormous weight of losing my uncle. I quickened my pace to reach the underpass of the interstate. From there neither side would be able to see me break down through their scopes.

  I cried less for myself and more for my Aunt Donna, River, Joey, and the people of the towns he gave his life trying to protect. He was our patriarch and the rock on which everybody stood. They would be devastated beyond anything they had ever experienced. I knew how they were all about to feel, and it was crushing me.

  I had no idea how to tell them what happened. I had no idea how to tell them there was nothing I could have done to save the man who had always found a way to save me. I imagined they would have preferred he was the one crying under the bridge, and I was the one being dragged out of a tent by my feet.

  I tried to clear my head of those selfish thoughts so I could press on. We didn’t have much time to prepare for the militia attack. Knowing what we were about to do to them is what pushed me out of the darkness of the underpass and into the light on the other side.

  As I approached our camp, JD was walked toward me. He was carrying my weapons and a canteen. No words were exchanged as I took my gear and a long drink. After several seconds of watching me fail to thread the cap, JD took the canteen from my shaking hands.

  “We saw them take Perry out of the tent,” said JD, putting a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, brother.”

  I still couldn’t find the words. All I could do was look at him and take a deep breath. I looked over his shoulder and saw the rest of the men coming outside.

  “Nobody followed you,” said Tucker. “What the hell happened? Why did they kill him?”

  “Doesn’t matter why,” said JD. “They just did. Nobody can do nothin’ about that now.”

  “I’m sorry, Henry,” said Tucker. “I didn’t mean to –”

  “It’s okay, buddy,” I said, finding words. “I’m still trying to figure that out. Before I knew what was going on, they jumped me and then cut his throat. They wanted to send a message to the rest of us.”

  “Well, we got it loud and clear,” said Daniel. “We’ll be sending our own message when they try to cross that dam.”

  “The man in charge is General Castle,” I said. “He’s a fucking lunatic. Killing Perry meant nothing to him. Killing all of us will mean nothing to him. He wants the train, and he’s coming to get it tomorrow. We need to get back to Nickajack.”

  We were less concerned about our safety and more concerned with speed. When the pain
in my leg reminded me to take it easy, I pushed harder. I wanted to feel it. I wanted it to hurt.

  When we turned the last corner in the road that blocked our view of the dam, we all crept into the woods and raised our rifles. We wanted to see how well our men had concealed themselves in their ambush positions. I was impressed when I didn’t see anyone through my scope. JD and Tucker weren’t as impressed.

  “I count four so far,” said JD, continuing to scan.

  “Two more moving up the trail on the right side of the power lines,” said Tucker, lowering his rifle. “Not bad, but if we can see them, so can they.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” I said. “What’s the distance from here?”

  “About a thousand yards to the tree line on the other side of the dam,” said JD. “That’s where Gunny is setting up most of his shooters.”

  “A thousand yards out,” I said. “Sometimes you make me feel very inadequate, JD.”

  “I can only see ‘em,” said JD, patting my shoulder. “I can’t hit ‘em from here.”

  “Find as many as you can and remember their positions,” I said. “Gunny will need that information.”

  “Will do.”

  I left JD and Tucker to their work. I walked a short distance down the road and found a comfortable place to sit under a large oak. My throbbing leg appreciated me taking off my pack and getting off my feet.

  When the pain eased, so did my ability to push the images of my uncle’s murder out of my head. I was surprised how quickly my sadness was being replaced with rage. I didn’t even notice Doug removing his gear and taking a seat beside me.

  “How’s the leg?” asked Doug.

  “It’s good,” I said, rubbing it. “It’s tightening up a little, but it’s not slowing me down.”

  “Obviously,” said Doug, removing the cap from his water bottle. “It took us half the time to get back here.”

  “Time is something we can’t waste right now,” I said.