by John Grit
“It does,” he said. “You’ll see. When you’re on patrol and you catch yourself thinking about us and you let your guard down at the wrong moment. The first time I was shot while serving in the Army, I was thinking of Susan when I should’ve been keeping my eyes and ears working, concentrating on staying alive.”
She pushed away from him. “Oh hell, Nate.”
“What?”
“Nothing. I must go.”
He reached for her, but she pulled away. “First tell me what’s wrong. I can’t help worrying about you. I’ve seen too many people die not to worry.”
“I was thinking of that,” she said. “But…when you mentioned Susan…it made me feel like I’m competing with her memory.”
“Damn it, I’m sorry. That’s not it at all. It was all about trying to help you avoid a costly mistake. Just stay alert.”
“I will. And I’m not mad anymore, so don’t worry about that.” She turned to the door. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”
Nate heard her in the bath down the hall. The water had been carried in buckets. It was cold, but wet. Well, she misunderstood me. What else is new?
~~~
Brian sat on the front steps of Chesty’s house and enjoyed the sights and smells of the fresh new day. Dr. Brant had told him his arm and ribs were healing fast, but the arm cast would stay on another week, mostly to help prevent him from breaking it again, since he hadn’t refrained from using it like she’d ordered him. Brian and Nate had been staying at Chesty’s place after Austin left them in town before returning to Mrs. MacKay’s farm, taking Renee and the others with him. That was two weeks before. He saw his father coming down the sidewalk, carrying his pack and rifle.
He was old enough to know Deni and his father had become lovers, that they had spent the night together, and that’s why his father hadn’t stayed the night at Chesty’s. He was also old enough to know not to mention it. He expected his father might even feel guilt, as if he had cheated on his mother. The fact she’d been dead more than a year didn’t mean his father wasn’t still grieving inside. He would keep conversations on other matters and give the two distance and time to work out whatever there was to be between them.
Nate stepped up to the porch. He regarded his son, as if he might be wondering what he was thinking.
Brian looked up at him, revealing no clue what was on his mind. “What’re we going to do today?”
He saw his father as permanent as anything he had ever known, as immutable and unchanging as the world itself, more so, since the world had changed. The plague changed everything in his life, and for a long time, he had thought his father had changed and grown hard and cruel with the world. But he later discovered that he was mistaken, that he had just been too immature to realize it, that his father had been the same man all along. His father, he had grown to realize, had not been hard on him those last 13 months; he had been hard on himself, denying himself almost all of the fun part of being a father and instead concentrating on survival. He had done much of the same with Deni and their relationship – until last night. And he knew his father would feel guilty about that too. If he let his guard down and someone was hurt, he would blame himself. If he was too cold and distant and someone was hurt, he would feel guilty of causing needless pain. Brian resolved to do his best to help him through that minefield.
“Chesty wants us to take a truck and patrol the streets,” Nate said. “That killer is still out there, and he’s determined to stop him before he kills another little girl.”
Surprised, Brian raised a brow. “Okay. I’m ready.”
The radio on Nate’s load-bearing harness came to life. It was Chesty. “Nate, if you can hear me, answer.”
Nate snatched the radio up. He had noticed Chesty and Tyrone’s radio protocol was informal. That would most likely change over time as the number of deputies grew. For now, though, they were short on deputies and had no more radios, even if they had more personnel. “We’re just about to go on patrol. What’s up?”
“Just a radio check and to remind you to stay on your side of Division and that these radios have limited range, so don’t go too far north or west. Remember, we don’t have a repeater with a tall tower. These little radios are operating unsupported. Over.”
Chesty was telling him nothing he didn’t already know. He smiled at Brian and said, “We’ll remember that. Over.”
“Be careful out there and don’t hesitate to call Tyrone and me for help. Out.”
“Will do. Out.”
Brian watched him put the radio away. “The Army’ll be on the streets. Can you call them for help with that radio?”
“I’m sure they’re monitoring all frequencies. We’ll also stop to talk with any soldiers we come across. Best they can ID us and our vehicle from a distance. Also, we want them to know we’re working with local law enforcement.”
Brian nodded. “I guess that truck in the driveway’s for us.”
~~~
Nate edged out of his patrol area closer to where the last girl had been taken. There were several families on one street, and he wanted to check on them. He knew one couple had two young girls. They might be too much for the killer to resist.
“It’s almost three,” Brian said. “I have two MREs Deni gave me. We ever going to stop somewhere to eat?”
Nate pulled onto the street where the girls lived and stopped in the shade of a wide oak. It was out of habit, as the afternoon was cool and pleasant. “We can eat right here.” He regarded Brian for a second, then opened the door and stepped out, taking his rifle with him. “I’m guessing you just offered me one of those MREs, otherwise, I’ll have to go hungry until we get back to Chesty’s place.”
Brian smiled. “What made you think that I was going to give you one?” He got out and reached in the back behind the cab and pulled an MRE out, throwing it to his father. “Don’t say I never gave you anything.” He moved to the rear of the truck and swung the tailgate down to use as a table.
Nate reached into a pocket and produced a knife to open the MRE. “You’re a gentleman, a scholar, and a horse’s ass.”
“You’re welcome. Can I use your knife?”
Nate handed it to him.
Brian didn’t use it. He stood there with the knife in his hand, looking like he had something on his mind besides a late lunch. “How long are we going to stay in town? You’ve always been in a hurry to get back to Mel’s bunker.”
“You know why we’re still in town. I want to be near Deni.”
“I know that. I was just wondering…Well, I guess you don’t really know yourself, do you?”
“No. I don’t know when we’ll be leaving town. Soon. I haven’t changed my mind on that.” Nate waited for Brian to get at what was bothering him.
Brian cut his MRE open. “Just don’t worry about me. Whatever you decide is okay.”
“I always worry about you.”
“What I mean is something could happen and you’ll blame yourself. If it happens in town, you’ll tell yourself it’s your fault. If we go to Mel’s bunker and something happens, you’ll tell yourself it’s your fault.” He looked at Nate and said nothing for a few seconds, his eyes doing the talking.
Nate realized his son was looking back at him as an equal – a man, not a boy, but still his son.
Brian finished what he wanted to say. “So there’s no point in leaving because something might happen to me here. It could happen anywhere. You might as well stay close to Deni.”
“Well,” was all Nate said. They started their meal. A few minutes passed before Nate could speak again. “Brian, there have been more times than I could count when I put you in harm’s way, and every time I did my stomach was in knots. But not once was it for something trivial.”
“Deni isn’t trivial,” Brian said, after washing down a bite with water from his canteen.
“No, Deni isn’t, but the two of us being together is. Neither one of us would die without each other.”
“That�
�s not trivial either.” Brian lost interest in eating. “So you’re willing to help Chesty and Tyrone and kind of be their deputy and even take me with you, but you think it’s too much of a risk to stay in town so you two can spend time together?”
“Some animal’s killing little girls. Stopping him is worth some risk.”
A thought brightened Brian’s face. “So I’m not the only one in the world you care about. Why not care about yourself a little? And if you can’t do that, care about Deni’s feelings.”
“I do. But hurt feelings won’t kill her. It’s all about what’s most important – staying alive. You, Deni, me, our friends. That always comes first. Certainly it comes before feelings.”
“Seems like you’ve made up your mind already. I guess we’ll be leaving soon.”
Nate threw his empty food pouches in the back of the truck. “I haven’t made a decision on when. I’m thinking a few more days.” He regarded Brian for a second. “Might stay a week if I can put you somewhere safe and get you to stay there. Maybe you can help out at the clinic. We certainly owe the doctors and nurses.”
The radio on Nate’s load bearing harness came to life. Tyrone was calling Chesty for help. There was a lot of static, but gun shots could be made out in the background.
Tyrone’s area was on the south side of town, where the county road had brought so much trouble in the past, welcoming raiders. The road connected to an interstate highway and for a year, that highway had brought trouble from the north. Until recently, the townspeople had manned a roadblock there 24/7, but it had been judged no longer necessary. After all, the Army had arrived. They would protect them.
None of that mattered to Tyrone, who was left on the side of the road with a disabled patrol car, battered and bruised but otherwise unharmed. “Three big trucks – semis without trailers – came speeding into town. They had rigged cargo areas on the back and armed men were riding in them. The first truck forced me off the road and went on by. The second one rammed me. My vehicle’s finished, but I’m okay.”
“Who was shooting?” Chesty asked.
“Them,” Tyrone answered. “I’m sure they’re raiders. Notify the Army.”
“Will do,” Chesty said.
Nate and Brian had jumped in the truck and were racing south. After a lull in radio traffic, Nate spoke into the mike. “We’ll pick up Tyrone.”
“I’m closer,” Chesty said.
Nate started to speak, but then he saw a truck turn onto their street and then another one, following only yards behind. Huge trucks, loud exhaust pipes spewing black smoke. One man shot a rifle in their direction, leaning out of the passenger side window as they barreled toward them. Bullets punched holes in their windshield. Nate yanked the wheel to the right and raced for cover between two houses. He didn’t stop there; instead, he yanked the wheel to the left and plowed through a wood privacy fence to take refuge behind the house.
“Are you hit?” Nate reached over and pulled Brian to him, checking for wounds.
“No.” Brian yanked away and exited the truck, his rifle in hand.
Nate bailed out on his side. He hit the ground running, keeping 15 feet back from the house. He yelled to Brian, “Stay back!” Stopping at the corner, he sliced the pie of angles, jerking his head back each time. The sound of the trucks continuing down the street wasn’t enough for him to forego his training and just barrel around the corner, perhaps into a hail of bullets. Seeing no danger, he ran on to the front corner, where he repeated the same procedure, but this time he had the corner of the house to the left to deal with, also.
Brian kept his rifle trained on the corner to the left to back up his father. “They’re gone, Dad.”
Nate checked the front yards and the street as far as he could see. Finding it clear, he grabbed the radio out of its pouch on his chest. “A dozen men in two semis just shot out our windshield, heading north toward downtown.”
Chesty’s voice blared through the static, “Anyone hurt?”
“No.”
“I just contacted the Army. They’re on it. What the hell are these idiots up to? Don’t they know the Army’s in town?
Sweat beaded on Nate’s forehead. “Looks like they plan to raid somebody. I have no idea who. Be careful. They’re trigger happy.”
“I have Mel with me. Follow your own advice. Out.”
A shadow fell over Brian’s face. “What part of town is Deni working today?”
“I don’t know,” Nate answered. “Let’s check the truck out and see if it’ll still run.”
Chapter 21
Nate had the truck’s engine roaring and the horn blaring nonstop. He blew through intersections in residential streets at 70 miles per hour. Fortunately, the neighborhoods were almost devoid of people and traffic. He slowed to turn a corner, heading for the clinic. All four tires smoked as he slid sideways through the intersection and stomped the gas, heading down the street.
Though strapped in tight, Brian held on with one hand and held his rifle with the other. He’d never seen his father drive on the razor edge of losing control of the vehicle before.
Someone was talking on the radio, but neither of them could hear above the engine and rush of wind. Nate slowed as he approached the clinic. A HUMVEE blocked the driveway and several soldiers aimed rifles at them.
“Stay where you are and don’t let them see your weapon.” Nate stopped in the road and got out unarmed, except for his pistol that was hid under his shirt. He approached the soldiers slowly, keeping his hands in sight.
When he was close enough, one soldier recognized him. “We’re locked down, Mr. Williams.”
“I figured that.” Nate thrust a thumb over his right shoulder. “I would like to leave my son here where he’ll be safe.”
The soldier nodded. “Okay. Park your truck over on the sidewalk out of the way first.”
Nate ran back to the truck.
Brian didn’t wait for him to get in before saying, “I heard.”
Nate slid behind the wheel. “Don’t give me any trouble. I don’t have time.”
“I won’t,” Brian said. “Just because you might be safer if you’re not worrying about me.”
“Good.” Nate parked on the sidewalk. “When you get out, put your pack on, then sling your rifle so some soldier doesn’t get jumpy.”
Brian got out and started to say something when his eyes flashed down the road. He yelled, “Get down!”
Automatic gunfire erupted.
It was at that moment Nate remembered Tyrone had said there were three trucks. Only two had raced by them when they shot up their windshield. He saw the truck turn off the street and ram the HUMVEE blocking the clinic entrance, despite the soldiers laying automatic fire into the windshield. Jumping out of the truck and throwing himself onto the sidewalk, Nate shouldered his rifle and began to fire into the attackers. He could just make out the report of Brian’s rifle somewhere behind him.
It was over in less than three minutes. Nate yelled at Brian, “Are you hit?”
Brian lay on the ground, taking cover behind the truck’s front wheel. “No.”
“Don’t move. Stay where you are. Remember, not every soldier knows us. Keep your rifle down.”
Two soldiers were hurt, neither by gunfire. Their injuries were from the attackers ramming the HUMVEE and it slamming it into the soldiers behind it. Nate and Brian watched but never moved, not wanting to attract unwanted attention.
Capt. Donovan arrived with reinforcements, taking command. There had been several other attacks in town, the work of more truckloads of killers, and he’d been busy.
“Leave your rifle where it is and follow me,” Nate told Brian. They moved onto a clear area of unkempt lawn, keeping their hands in sight and not making any sudden moves. They sat on the grass and waited while the soldiers secured the scene and made sure all threats had been neutralized.
Brian motioned with his head. “Chesty and Tyrone are here.” The fact Mel was missing made them both nervous.
>
Chesty and Tyrone talked with the soldiers for a few minutes and then walked over to Nate and Brian.
“Is Mel okay?” Nate asked.
Chesty nodded. “He stayed behind to help with a wounded soldier.”
Tyrone rubbed a bruised arm as he walked up. “One of the attackers is alive. He’s wounded pretty bad but talking.”
“Yeah, Chesty said. “Looks like they’re some kind of anti-government group. He’s not making much sense, but evidently they don’t want the government to come back and don’t like the Army being here.”
Brian’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”
“My reaction exactly,” Chesty said. “A bunch of nuts. They basically committed suicide today. Unfortunately, they killed several people and wounded seven.”
Nate’s gaze was on the scene of the battle. “I hope that’s all there was of their little militia. The bastards shot at everything that moved, not just soldiers.”
“The wounded guy claims they have a big organization.” Tyrone checked out the truck Nate was driving. “Look at that windshield. You guys are lucky.”
Nate looked over at Brian and swallowed. “Yeah.”
Brian broke the silence. “I wonder if Deni’s okay.”
~~~
A chunk of mortar flew off the front of the building next to where Deni stood, and she heard the zing of a ricochet. Instantly, she was in a flat-out run for the HUMVEE and cover. Another shot missed by only inches. The gunman was firing from a patch of woods in an overgrown lot.
The soldiers in her patrol team also dove for cover, two were already returning fire, but aiming blindly, as they had only a vague idea where the shooter was. The armorless HUMVEE wasn’t equipped with a heavy machinegun, so all they had was their M4s.
Deni barked an order, “Bartram, get the SAW out.”
A soldier jumped up and ran. Keeping low and behind the HUMVEE. Careful not to expose himself, he opened the nearside door, reached in, and pulled out a squad automatic weapon. He lay down on the concrete behind the HUMVEE and folded the bipod out. In seconds, he was spraying the woods in the general area where he thought the shooter was, limiting his bursts to four rounds.