Rude Shock (America Falls Book 4)

by Scott Medbury

  “I’m sorry! Please don’t kill me! Please!”

  “Too late for sorry, asshole.” I forced the barrel harder against his temple and began to squeeze the trigger.

  “Isaac!”

  Indigo’s voice cut through the fog of my rage like a laser through dark night. I froze and looked up.

  In her arms, she held Max, my beautiful son. Tears filled my eyes.

  “He has to die for what he did,” I said simply.

  “Not like this, Isaac. Not here. Not now.” She nodded towards the grieving, frightened girl in front of us. “It’s not how we do things.”

  “No ... he ... ” I struggled to find the words to explain why it had to happen. She walked up to me and gently placed her hand over mine.

  “Not like this.”

  From the comfort of his mother’s arms, my little boy looked up at me, his eyes deep pools of blue, and smiled a gummy smile. The fight went out of me.

  I let her pull my gun hand away from its intended target. I released the killer’s collar and he fell to his hands and knees, coughing and choking for air. Luke came over, his face unreadable and helped the jittery killer back to his comrades.

  “Come and rest,” Indigo said, tugging gently at my gun hand.

  I nodded, tucked my gun into my jeans, and allowed her to lead me back to the house.

  19

  Indigo persuaded me to have a nap upon our return to the house. It took me a long time to fall asleep, but I eventually did and woke two hours later, fuzzy headed and hungry. I had a late breakfast and called a council meeting to decide what we would do in light of the attack.

  Our first decision was quick and easy. Both Brock and Joe had a passion for motorcycles and had kept the four bikes we had obtained over the years well maintained. We sent a team of three on the motorcycles, led by Joe, to monitor the road from Ashland. They were given enough supplies for two days. The bikes were our fastest and least obtrusive form of transport and, if the Marauders did decide to return, I wanted plenty of warning. They were under strict orders not to engage the enemy and to return at speed if they spotted them heading our way.

  Next came the question of the four prisoners. It was decided unanimously the four would be tried for murder the following day. The only issue to debate was what punishment would be imposed when ... if we found them guilty.

  The worst crimes we’d had to deal with prior to the invasion had been stealing and assault. We hadn’t been afraid to make hard decisions and had actually exiled several people from the Valley. That particular punishment seemed to be enough of a deterrent to most of our citizens. We had only debated execution in ‘what if’ terms.

  As I expected, most of the girls were dead set against the idea, all except Brooke.

  “We can’t just banish them,” argued Luke. “What kind of punishment is that? They’ll just go straight back to their people and try to kill more of us as soon as they get the chance.”

  “Luke’s right. They’ve all got blood on their hands. Execution is the only thing that makes sense,” said Paul.

  “I don’t have the answers,” said Indigo. “But how can you even think of doing that? Who is going to shoot them? Are you going to pull the trigger, Paul? Luke?”

  Paul reddened.

  “If I have to, yes,” said Luke, resolutely.

  “Why are we having a trial at all?” asked Allie. “It seems we’ve already decided they’re guilty.”

  “But they are!” said Danny. “Isaac, what do you think?”

  I looked around the room, my gaze falling on them one by one, until finally coming to rest on Indigo.

  “We can’t let them go,” I said. “And we can’t lock them up. Executing them is the only way.”

  I saw tears in Indigo’s eyes. Brooke put her hand on hers, even though she was of the same opinion as me. I felt like the world’s biggest bastard, but we had to do what was right by all of us.

  “We know they’re all guilty, but we’ll have a trial anyway. Our people need to see that we’re not just thoughtless killers. We have to talk about what they did and then we have to sentence them to death. Not guns though. I know another way, quick and painless.”

  20

  The next day dawned bright and sunny. Given what we had to do that day, I would have preferred an overcast, miserable morning. I wasn’t in a great mood when I woke up. Indigo had been cool towards me when we had retired for the evening, but at least she hadn’t rejected my kiss goodnight.

  Indigo was silent as we ate breakfast in our room. It was nothing fancy, just some bread and peanut butter we kept in the cupboard in case of hunger attacks. I don’t think either of us felt like eating breakfast with the group; certainly, she didn’t fight me when I suggested eating in our room.

  I was feeling lousy, like I had let her down, but I knew in my heart it was the right decision. I washed the last of my bread down with water.

  “Well, I better get dressed and go downstairs,” I said, pushing my chair away and standing up. Indigo grabbed my hand and squeezed it. Her face was sad, but that simple gesture let me know everything was okay between us. That said, as I got dressed, I still felt there was a heavy black cloud hanging over me. Execution might be the right thing to do, the only thing, but being right didn’t make it any easier.

  Luke and I had a brief discussion about how we would conduct the trial and at 9 A.M. we went out onto the verandah. Luke was holding a bull horn we had discovered in a school two years before. It made a horrible screeching sound when he first put it to his mouth and those of us closest to him clapped our hands over our ears. No one giggled though; I wasn’t the only one feeling the gravity of the situation.

  “Attention, everybody! Please gather in the Square. I repeat, gather in the Square.”

  Slowly but surely, our people emerged from their quarters or left the jobs they had been doing and began to congregate in front of the raised verandah. We had named that patch of ground the Square and it’s where we held all of our community meetings and celebrations, including Thanksgiving and Christmas.

  We were silent as we waited for the stragglers to join us. Looking at the sea of upturned faces and listening to the excited buzz of conversation, I was struck by how big we’d grown.

  The talk died down as Luke stepped to the edge of the verandah again and held up the bullhorn.

  “People of the Valley, we are gathered here to conduct a trial and pass judgment on the people who attacked our home and killed our people in the early hours of yesterday morning.”

  “Shoot the fuckers!” someone called from the crowd and it was followed by a chorus of approval and ‘yeah’s.

  “Quiet down, please,” said Luke, holding his hook up like an unintentional threat.

  The crowd slowly fell into silence.

  This wasn’t to be a trial that would have been familiar to anyone from the before days. There was no judge, no lawyers, no jury. Those of us in the Valley council were essentially judge, jury, and executioner all rolled into one.

  Besides the triumvirate (Luke, Jamal, and myself), that year’s council was made up of Paul, a boy named Robert who had arrived two years before, Allie, and Danny.

  The council was elected every year to govern the everyday running of the Valley. The triumvirate had veto power over any matter, but ever since we’d formed the first council in our second year, we had never had to use it. It was a testament to our single-mindedness when it came to the good of the group.

  We were all seated on chairs on the verandah overlooking the crowd. Ben was to act as the court attendant. When Luke settled the crowd and had taken his seat, Ben stepped up and cupped his hands to his mouth.

  “Bring out the prisoners!”

  The four prisoners were led out by two of our people, members of Luke’s security team. The killers had been locked up in the ‘compound,’ a small enclosure we had built near the trees at the rear of the property. They looked a little worse for the rough night’s sleep they had endured. Their han
ds were tied in front of them and I made a mental note to talk to Luke about teaching his men to tie them behind in the future.

  They were brought to a stop in front of the verandah and told to turn and face us. Three of them had their heads bowed, whether in contrition or in the hope we would take pity upon them I’m not sure. The axe killer looked up at us with defiance. I nodded to Ben.

  “You four are charged with murder and injury of the innocent. How do you plead?”

  “Fuck off,” spat the defiant one.

  I felt fury at his attitude and struggled to find something to say. Ben beat me to it.

  “I’ll take that as a guilty plea,” he said smoothly. “Thank you, what about you three?”

  The others were more circumspect. Two of them pled guilty quietly; the third started to cry.

  “I didn’t kill anyone,” he blubbered.

  “Did you shoot anyone?” Ben asked, no sympathy coloring his voice.

  “Yes ... but I only winged him. I hit his arm.”

  “Right, so you tried to murder him, but your aim was shit?”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t! He’s alive.”

  Ben jumped down from the verandah and stalked up to the youth, leaning over him threateningly. The boy cringed from Ben’s obvious anger.

  “He’ll be dead by the morning,” he said in a low, dangerous voice.

  The boy’s face collapsed, and he began to sob.

  “I ... don’t ... wanna ... die.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Singh, goddamn crybaby. They’ll get what’s coming when Ash comes back.”

  Ben turned his attention to the freckle-faced axe killer.

  “You’re a lot braver than you were yesterday.”

  “Whatever,” the boy snarled.

  Ben turned on his heels and stepped back onto the verandah and faced them again.

  “You stand before our council,” he said more formally. “They will decide your fate. How do you vote, council?”

  Luke was the first to stand.

  “Guilty.”

  I stood.

  “Guilty.”

  Indigo stood, and I held my breath as she paused, looking down at the four.

  “Guilty,” she said quietly and sat down.

  The rest of the council stood, one by one, and delivered the same verdict.

  “What is the punishment you’ve decided?” asked Ben, once we were all seated again.

  This time I stood. “The penalty is death.”

  Still the axe killer was defiant, his teeth bared in a silent growl. The others, even the crying one, took the pronouncement with an air of resignation.

  “Take them to the barn.”

  The two guards moved to take the prisoners away and I felt myself relax. I turned to Indigo and was about to comfort her when, to my right, Allie screamed. I looked her way reflexively before the sound of scuffling alerted me to the danger behind us. I quickly fell on Indigo, pushing her to the floor as the loud clap of a gunshot sent the crowd scattering. The shot shattered the window we had been standing in front of just a millisecond before, glass spraying over us as we fell to the floorboards.

  Later I was told the axe killer had grabbed a pistol from one of the guards and had immediately aimed for me. Only Allie’s scream and my quick reaction had saved us.

  Call it fate, or luck, or karma, or whatever the hell you want, but that morning, for the first time in two years, I had put my gun holster on. Luke was on his haunches beside me, cursing as he struggled to free his own gun with his good hand. There was another shot and I saw the second guard go down as the killer, his arm around the first guard’s neck, backed up, his gun waving this way and that as the crowd scattered behind him.

  I didn’t hesitate. I got to my feet and aimed at his hateful face. He shot again, and I flinched. Thankfully, his aim was less sure this time and I heard a groan behind me. I couldn’t waste any more time; I pulled the trigger. I had seen heroes shoot villains over the top of their captives’ shoulders many times in the movies, but this wasn’t make believe.

  Instead of taking the villain in the face, my bullet struck our own man in the left shoulder.

  Fuck! Our man dropped like a stone and the killer reeled back, holding his free hand over his own shoulder. Dumb luck, more than my crappy aim, meant that the bullet had passed through the guard and struck him in the shoulder of his gun arm. It dangled uselessly and the gun he had stolen a minute before dropped from numb fingers. He looked at me, fear now swamping any defiance he still had. He wasn’t done yet though.

  His head began to turn frantically this way and that. I couldn’t risk him taking another hostage. I took a deep breath, calming myself as Luke had shown me what seemed like a lifetime before. I whistled, and he looked at me. My second shot took him through the left eye. He fell backwards, the last look on his face: dumb surprise.

  There was a lot of confusion over the next few minutes. I’m glad Luke and Ben took charge because I think I was in a state of shock. I sat down on the steps and Indigo sat beside me. The gun dangled from my fingers, as heavy as a brick, until Indigo took it away.

  Her warm hand found mine. “You did what you had to.”

  I could have told her about the fact I had spotted the prisoners’ hands tied in front earlier. That if only I’d made them tie them properly when I spotted it, none of this would have happened.

  Then again, if Indigo had let me shoot the bastard the day before, he wouldn’t have had the chance to kill again. No, it wasn’t my fault. I would put this lapse in judgment behind me, just like I had put others behind me since the Chinese had fucked us over. I had to, not only for me but also for Indigo and little Max.

  Beau and Jamal put the guard I had accidently wounded onto a homemade stretcher and took him to the infirmary. Thankfully, he was conscious and didn’t appear too distressed. I hoped that was a good sign.

  Luke had already covered our latest fatality with a sheet. Another dead kid. It was difficult to think of anyone in the Valley as anything other than kids. Apart from Jamal, who had a few months on us, Luke and I were the oldest of any of the people in the Valley, but no matter what we’d been through or what we were doing, I still felt like a child, albeit one with responsibilities.

  The dead boy, Ramsey, was just eighteen. Another marker in our little graveyard. A graveyard which was growing way too quickly. He’d only just been recruited to Luke’s security force and I hadn’t even known his name before he was killed. I said as much to Indigo, feeling shittier than ever.

  “You can’t know everyone’s name, Isaac. There are too many of us now. Come on, let’s go see Max. It’ll cheer you up.”

  I felt like I should stay and help clean things up, but she was right, I needed to see my boy. He was playing happily with Peace when we went into the house.

  “Has he been a good boy?” I asked the little girl.

  “Yep, he sure has, Uncle Isaac.”

  “What happened outside?” asked Ava.

  While Indigo talked quietly to Ava, I picked up Max and gave him a squeeze, smiling at the gurgle he produced.

  “Oh, that’s terrible,” said Ava.

  We sat down there for a while before taking Max up for a nap. We lay for a few hours, Indigo and I, in each other’s arms while our little man slept. Just before lunch, there was a knock at the door. It was Luke.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah, what’s up?”

  “David, the kid who was shot in the arm by the Marauders, died a few minutes ago.”

  “Oh ... ”

  “He didn’t suffer; he was zonked out on morphine.”

  “What about the kid I shot?”

  “Jamal thinks he’ll be okay as long as the wound doesn’t get infected. The bullet went through without hitting anything vital.”

  “Okay. That’s good.”

  “Yeah, um ... listen. We have the three prisoners at the barn. We’ve been waiting for you. Not really fair to keep them waiting much longer, you know? Death r
ow and all that?”

  “Okay. Shit. Of course. Sorry, I didn’t even think of it in all the ... excitement. I’ll come now.”

  21

  The walk to the barn seemed terribly long on that horrible day.

  “So, what is your idea? Gassing them?”

  I should have known Luke would guess my ‘painless and quick’ execution method. I nodded.

  “Good idea.”

  “That’s me, I’m a real go getter when it comes to killing people.”

  “Hey,” he said, grabbing me on the shoulder. “Remember what they did. What they were a part of. You said it yourself, this is the only way.”

  I held his fierce eyes for a moment, then nodded and looked at the ground. “I know, man. I’m just a little down on myself for what happened today. I spotted their hands tied in front, but I thought it could wait. I was going to bring it up with you afterwards.”

  “Dude, I saw it, too. I made a mental note to say something to the boys. That makes me just as guilty as you, right? At least you were able to draw your gun! Mine was stuck in my fucking pants.”

  I chuckled at his pantomime of the effort he had made to draw his gun, his hook waving in the air as his good hand tugged at the handle.

  “Lucky you didn’t blow your balls off,” I said, laughing for the first time in days. “Fine, you’re just as much to blame as me. Stop waving that hook around. You’ll take someone’s eye out ... probably mine.”

  I won’t describe the execution in detail, but essentially Luke and I banished everyone else from the barn. We took on the responsibility ourselves, unwilling to put anyone else in a position where they had to witness what was to follow.

  To say I didn’t feel sorry for the boys we loaded into the old Chrysler would be a lie. Two of them broke down when they saw the hose leading from the exhaust to the rear window of the car. It broke my heart. The one who had pleaded his innocence to the murder charge cried and begged for his life as Luke closed the door on him. I saw tears in my friend’s eyes and it hit me how unfair this new world was when kids had no choice but to kill other kids.