by Ryan King
Simons dug into his pack and pulled out the two parts of his assault rifle, putting them together, and then loaded a magazine. He looked up to see Trailer looking at him appreciatively. “Maybe we should start pulling watches in the night.”
“Look who’s a soldier boy now,” Trailer said.
“As a matter of fact, I was a soldier once,” Simon said. “Not a very good one, but I learned a few things.”
“So you didn’t just steal that rifle?” Trailer asked.
“No,” Simon answered. “I can take the middle watch if you like. It’s the worst time if I remember correctly.”
“I’m a morning person,” Trailer said. “Wake me up when it’s my shift.” He then settled down and stared into the fire without blinking in a way that they had come to know meant the big man was asleep or headed that way.
“I guess I’m first,” Jessica said. “I’ll need you rifle.”
Simon hesitated, but realized it only made sense. “You ever shoot before?”
“Yes, but not a gun like that. Shotguns mostly for hunting before...you know.”
“Yeah, I know.” He sat down beside her and dropped the magazine, clearing the chamber before giving her a quick class on how to shoot and clear malfunctions. He then showed her how to load the rifle and handle it safely.
“It’s heavy,” she said with appreciation. “With something like this, no one would ever mess with me again.”
“That’s not how guns work,” Simon answered. “It’s just a tool. The person behind the gun is what matters.”
“What do you know about it?” she asked, her earlier smile a distant memory. She stood, taking the rifle with her. “I got first watch. Better get some sleep.”
Simon did.
*******
“Hold up,” Trailer whispered, and they stopped. The big man turned his head back and forth as if trying to get a scent.
“What’s wrong?” Simon whispered, coming up beside him.
“Not sure. I thought I heard something, and it just feels...off somehow.”
Simon looked back at Jessica behind them attached to the cart. He made sure to keep the end of the rifle pointed away from either of his traveling companions. “So, what now?”
“We keep going, but stay alert.”
They walked down the paved two-lane road that a local sign declared as State Route 76. In the middle of the road, there was a naked form covered in blood. Flies had started to collect on the dead man’s face and wounds to his chest.
Trailer bent down and put his fingers to the man’s forehead. “Not cold yet.” He stood and looked both ways along the road alertly. “We have to get off this road.”
“Which group did this?” Simon asked.
“Does it matter?” Trailer asked angrily.
Simon saw with surprise that the big man was afraid and realized he should likely be afraid as well. He peered back and saw Jessica staring at the body in the road calmly.
Trailer looked at the handcart and then at the side of the road. “Follow me, quickly,” he said, walking towards a wider path leading into the woods.
Simon helped Jessica get the cart down the embankment without it crushing her and then pushed to get it going. He noticed she didn’t complain about his help as she once had.
They walked slowly for nearly an hour. Simon turned to scan their rear every few seconds, as he had been taught in light infantry tactics years ago, and was surprised how quickly such things came back.
“We’ll stop here for the night,” Trailer said as they pulled off the trail and into a natural large depression in the ground surrounded by trees and thick brush. “No fire tonight.”
Neither Simon nor Jessica complained. Simon felt bone tired with a need to sleep and understood this was a post-adrenaline rush reaction. He sat heavily on the ground and breathed deeply.
Jessica struggled out of the straps and set the tongues of the cart down. “I gotta go pee.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Simon, struggling to stand.
“Remember, we had that conversation already,” she said, walking out of the depression.
“Don’t go far,” said Trailer sternly.
Simon relaxed, and Trailer sank down to one knee across from him.
“Who do you think he was?” Simon asked.
“Hard to say. He was picked clean. Could have been locals that did him in, but I would guess one of the gangs.”
“So they might be close?”
“They’ve been close for a good while,” Trailer answered. “That’s what I was trying to warn you about. This is the worst part of the trip.”
“Is it always like this?”
“Not usually. I’m always on edge around here, but most of the time I’m able to get through without any cause for concern. Maybe something has gotten the Devils and Cossacks stirred up. Hell, for all I know, there could be a new player in the area causing trouble. I just wish one side would destroy the other so that they can go back to simple extortion.”
“Is one worse than the other?”
“Doesn’t matter. Any state of chaos is almost always worse than any state of order.”
“That’s pretty deep,” Simon said. “Who said that?”
“I did, just now. I’m a deep thinker if you hadn’t noticed. Studied philosophy back when people did such things.”
“Maybe that’s the only thing worth studying anymore,” Simon said.
Trailer held up his hand. “You hear that?”
Simon listened but didn’t hear anything. He turned, and his eyes alighted on the handcart. He sprang to his feet. “Jessica’s not back.”
Trailer grabbed his arm. “We’ll go find her, don’t rush. Also realize that if you catch her in the middle of taking a dump, it will put a damper on that puppy-love you’re feeling.”
“I’m not worried about that; remember the body in the road?”
The big man began walking carefully down the path he had seen Jessica take using his cudgel to quietly clear the way before them. Within a few minutes, they could hear voices and crept cautiously forward.
“She’s a pretty little one, ain’t she?” said one voice.
“Don’t even think about it,” said another voice. “You know the rules. Scratch gets first taste of any sweets we bring in. After that, we can all get our fill.”
There was a sound as if Jessica were struggling.
“Doesn’t mean we can’t sample the goods, at least a little bit.”
Simon started to move forward, but Trailer put his hand up to block him.
“No guns. There could be others nearby. Sling the rifle and take this.” Trailer held out a large hunting knife.
Taking the knife, Simon slung the rifle over his shoulder beside his pack as silently as possible.
Without warning, Trailer raced forward.
Simon heard a few gasps of surprise and then ran after him.
One man was already in the ground with his skull cracked open. Blood and brain matter oozed out into the ground. Trailer had his back to this one and his cudgel held out menacingly in the other direction.
“Don’t move,” said a wiry man with a tattoo of a snake running from his bare chest up around his neck. He had Jessica by the hair and was holding a pistol against the side of her head. He looked wildly from Trailer to Simon to his dead friend. The man pointed the gun at Trailer, but then Jessica began to struggle, and he had to hold the pistol on her again to keep her still.
“So, we’re not moving,” said Trailer. “We just want to be on our way. Let our friend go, and everyone can just continue with their lives.”
The man shook his head and nodded towards the nearby body with the split skull. “I got a better deal. You trade me the girl for your freedom. That’s fair for you killing Sax, I would say.”
“Not going to happen,” said Trailer. “You hurt the girl and we jump on you. You shoot one of us and the other one jumps you. You let her go and we all go happily on our way.”
The
man appeared to consider the situation anew. “You got anything to sweeten the deal?”
“Sure,” said Trailer, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. “Back a hundred yards is our campsite. Sitting there is a cart filled with about three hundred pounds of dried prime Tunica rice.”
“Seriously?” The man smiled.
“No!” yelled Jessica, struggling and trying to pull away.
The man with the tattoo was forced to look away from the two men in order to regain control of the woman in his grasp. When he did, the pistol came away from her head for a fraction of a second and was out to his side.
Lightning quick, Trailer stepped forward and brought his heavy cudgel down on the wrist that was holding the pistol. There was a loud sickening crunch and then a gunshot as the man squeezed the trigger reflexively.
He screamed in pain and dropped the pistol.
Jessica scrambled on the ground and grasped the dropped pistol. She rolled over on her back to point it at her former captor.
Trailer was already in full swing. His cudgel connected with the side of the man’s skull with the sound like a baseball bat hitting a melon. The man crumbled.
“Are you okay?” Simon asked, helping Jessica to her feet.
They could hear yelling in the distance.
“We have to move fast,” Trailer said, turning east. “Follow me.”
“The rice!” Jessica said.
“Leave it,” Trailer ordered. “With any luck, it will distract them long enough for us to get away.”
“I can’t leave it,” she said. “My father will kill me.”
Trailer pointed at the sound of the voices. “Believe me when I say they will do much worse than kill you if you don’t leave it.”
Jessica seemed torn.
“Suit yourself,” said Trailer, taking off at a run. Within seconds, he was out of sight.
“Come on,” said Simon. “He’s right. We’ll never be able to outrun or even hide from them with that cart.”
With a cry of frustration, she sprinted after Trailer, and Simon followed.
Chapter 12 – Going South
Joshua led his detachment of reconnaissance personnel south on a motley collection of bicycles. Most were mountain or racing bikes except for one large three-wheeled bicycle that carried most of their supplies.
He shifted the large pack on his back and checked that the assault rifle was still securely attached to his handlebars. As the commander, he rode in the middle of a large dispersed formation that would have probably fit within a standard football field.
They hadn’t had any trouble so far, but he knew that was no reason to get complacent and bunch up. All it would take would be one ambush with a machine gun or IED and they would be in a world of hurt.
That made him think of his new wife Alexandra and their expected baby. Joshua and his wife had argued the morning he left. He didn’t like that she still went out into the forest to hunt alone with her crossbow. He had told her that as an expectant mother she had responsibilities and needed to not just think of herself. Alexandra had retorted his argument played both ways and that maybe he shouldn’t be going on a dangerous mission now that he was a soon-to-be father.
He had told her he had to go, but that wasn’t the truth. Joshua was senior enough he could have sent others on the mission. One of the things he loved and hated about Alexandra is that she couldn’t be bull-shitted and she had seen right through his hypocritical argument. He hoped she understood it was because he cared far more for her life than his own.
She also accused him of being withdrawn lately, and he couldn’t argue with her. Ever intuitive to people around her, she had understood it was guilt and grief over losing David. Not simply his brother being gone but all the distance between them left unreached. All the things left unsaid and undone forever.
The sun broke free of the clouds, and Joshua adjusted the hat on his head. He rolled the sleeves down on his shirt. His burn scars were light sensitive, and he had been told they probably always would be. Joshua had taken to covering them even when the sun wasn’t out, because he didn’t like the whispers and the pointing. He didn’t draw attention because of the scars themselves, but because he was easily identified as the brother of the man who had done the unforgiveable: setting off a nuclear bomb after N-Day.
Conrad McKraven rode up beside him on a mountain bike with the seat and handlebars at their maximum extension. Even so, he looked like he was on a child’s ride.
“We’re not far now,” Conrad said. “Another few miles and we’ll hit Creek Territory.”
Joshua nodded. “I’ve been wondering something.”
“What?”
“Why are you here? I mean, I like having you, but recon isn’t really your thing and you’re in the middle of a new soldier training class. Seems to me like the best place for you would be back at LBL with you recruits. And don’t tell me again how you’re bored and looking for some excitement; you just got back from that campaign against the Pirates of the Mississippi.”
Conrad smiled to himself and weaved his bike back and forth on the road like a racecar driver trying to warm up his tires. “You’re a smart guy. Why don’t you tell me why I’m here?”
Something about the way he said it made the pieces fall into place in Joshua’s mind. “You’re here to watch over me,” he said in disbelief.
“More like watch out for you.”
“Did Colonel Carter put you up to this?”
Conrad nodded. “Yeah, but I got the impression it came from higher.”
“My father?”
“If I had to guess, I would say so. Don’t be too angry about it. My father never gave a shit about what happened to me. Thankfully, I had a grandfather who did.”
Joshua rode in silence for a few minutes.
“He’s just worried, that’s all,” Conrad finally said. “Just be lucky you were allowed to go on this mission.”
“Allowed? This is my job, I’m...” Joshua trailed off. “That was why I was sent north to recon during the Missouri and Arkansas campaigns. To keep me safe.”
“Hey, you didn’t get that from me,” said Conrad, realizing he had maybe gone a bit too far. “And let’s face it, you have been different since David died.”
“Yeah,” Joshua said. David. Even though his brother was gone, his ghost seemed to be everywhere.
“So you’re supposed to be my wet nurse?”
“In a sense, but not just for you sake, but for theirs as well.” Conrad waved his hand in the direction of the men and women around them. “I can step in if you go off the deep end. Break down crying in the corner or something like that.”
“So, let me get this straight. The man responsible for overseeing my torture is now watching out for me?”
Conrad grunted. “The irony isn’t lost on me either. I judge your mother had no part in that decision. She would still skin me if she got the chance.”
The riders at the front of the formation held up their hands and began to stop. The sign was passed back, and soon the whole group was sitting still on their bicycles. Joshua and Conrad rode forward to find two tanned men sitting casually on horses.
“How?” said Conrad, holding up a hand to the side of his face.
“Very funny, paleface,” said one. “You the group Nathan Taylor said would be coming down to go check out Huntsville?”
“That’s us. I’m Joshua Taylor, and this is Conrad McKraven.”
“I’m Don,” said the first rider, who nodded towards his companion, “This is Jimmy.”
Jimmy stared down at them in distaste. “Don’t you assholes have horses?”
“Good question,” said Conrad, turning to Joshua. “Why don’t we have horses? It feels like I’m on the goddamn Tour de France.”
“What the hell would you know about horses anyway?” Joshua asked Conrad. “You barely manage to keep air in your bike tires and oil on the chain. You’d be a disaster with something that actually needed to be fed and watered.”
<
br /> “We could always help you out with that,” said Don. “We have plenty of horses.”
“That’s mighty kind of you,” said Conrad. “It’s not anyone who will just give you a horse.”
“Trade,” said Jimmy, pointing at their rifles.
Joshua shook his head. “These aren’t ours to trade. We’ll stick with our bicycles for now.”
“So be it,” said Don, spinning his horse around. “Follow us and try to keep up.”
The two horsemen galloped south, and Joshua’s group was forced to pedal hard to stay with them.
Chapter 13 – Conflicting Duty
“You’re going to do what?” Bethany asked.
“Please don’t say it like that,” said Nathan.
She threw her hands up in the air. “How am I supposed to say it? You’re going to be the vice president?”
“Going to run for vice president. Reggie asked me, and I don’t feel like I can say no.”
“It’s easy,” said Bethany. “Here, let me show you. ‘Reggie, I’m flattered by the offer, but I’ve promised my wife I would spend more time at home now that we have a new baby. I’ve spent much of my military career away from home and missed a lot of the boys growing up and my family needs me. Please accept this as my final answer.’ See, what’s so hard about that?”
Nathan turned away and walked over to look out the window towards the lake. It was peaceful here. He could see Joshua and Alexandra’s cabin down towards the shore as well as his mother’s small cabin to his left. It had taken some convincing her to move from Mayfield, but once she settled here, she loved it. “I always wanted a lake house,” she kept saying.
Bethany walked up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. “I know you want to help and it’s never been in your nature to refuse those that ask for it, but I’m asking for your help now. I need it.”
“I can get my mother to come help more,” Nathan said.
His wife turned away in frustration. “You’re missing the point. I don’t need someone else to help me do stuff. I need my husband and friend here to share this life with me. Who knows how long we have together or with the children.”