Early Release

by Jason Michelsen

  Lisa sniffed, but didn't break stride.

  Taking a deep breath, David wasn't sure if he had dodged a bullet or missed an opportunity. There were certainly fewer secrets by the day between them, but maybe they needed to keep some. This was not an ideal time to get too close to anyone, and with the messed up state of his emotions, he didn't know what he wanted anyway. Complicated though it may be, at least she kept things interesting.

  "Hey, Lisa?" David decided to try a new tactic.

  She looked at him with an arched eyebrow that seemed to dare him to bring up the subject again.

  "I was just thinking," he began, "isn't it a bit early for me to meet your parents?"

  44

  Staring at the man next to her, Lisa tried her hardest to contain her laughter. The result was not only her failure, but a strangled snorting sound that just embarrassed her further. David's mirthful eyes teased her, even if he was wise enough to stay silent.

  "Whatever you do, don't tell them we've spent the night together!"

  Her companion laughed now, and she could feel the mood lift substantially. That was proving to be quite a useful talent he had. For as long as she had been teamed up with him, he never let her stay in one of her periods of self-pity for too long. David seemed to have conquered any issues he had with his self-image, and was therefore someone she could learn from. But even if he had nothing to teach, she would be thankful for his company; for his kind and understanding ear.

  "I suppose I should tell you," she began hesitantly, "I haven't seen my parents in two years. They may not be all that welcoming when we find them. If we find them."

  He continued to walk next to her, his steady stride reminding her of the emotional strength he had developed. Taking strength from him, she continued.

  "It was boring, being a nurse in a small town. I never wanted that life, but after my dad worked so hard to send me to school, I felt like I owed it to him to come back and stay close to them.

  "After a few years working with Dr. Russell at the county clinic, I was miserable. The doc was alright, aside from constantly trying to hook me up with his sons, but the job was horribly tedious. There are only so many flu shots I can give to the elderly before I feel the urge to stab the needle directly into my brain and lobotomize myself."

  Now that drew a strange look. Lisa shrugged sheepishly. "What? Give all those shots yourself and see if you disagree!"

  "Anyway," she continued while ignoring his amused half-smile, "shortly after I started looking for other opportunities, a friend mentioned that the Bureau of Prisons was always in need of medical staff. It sounded more exciting than working in the nursing home of a town I was stuck in, so I decided to check it out. Sure enough, there was an opening right down the road in Santa Maria.

  "I didn't tell my parents my plan until I had already been hired and closed on my house. When I told them I was moving, I did it with a lot of built up resentment. Blaming them for my misery wasn't fair, but at the time it made sense to me. Really, they were more upset that I sprung it on them at the last minute than anything, but I took it as trying to hold me back. I was too childish to see that it was my own fear that kept me close to home, instead I convinced myself that my parents tied me to the town against my will.

  "So we fought, and I left. They wrote, I didn't even read the letters. I was obsessed with the idea of complete independence from my old life, and I thought that meant no contact at all. Next thing I knew, the holidays passed and I was committed to my stupid plan. How do you go back to family when you've made them spend Christmas without you for the first time in your life?"

  Lisa could feel tears trying to fight free, but she refused to give in. It was part of her privately imposed penance that she did not allow herself the relief they would bring. Having held to this resolution for the better part of a year--since realizing how foolish she had been--there was no way she would break now, this close to reparation.

  David moved slightly next to her, and for the first time she connected her story with his. Realizing that he must feel exponentially worse about his actions, Lisa stared at him in amazement.

  "How do you stand it?" she asked, dumbfounded. "I feel like I'm going to crumble over a little fight with mom and dad, but you still stand tall! How?"

  It wasn't until her partner failed to answer that she realized he had stopped. Turning to face him, the inquisitive nurse thought about what she had just said and realized she may have crossed a line. Wait, since when do we have lines?

  But David was staring past her, his brow furrowed in concentration. Something in his look made Lisa question whether she should turn around.

  45

  David was trying to determine the appropriate response to Lisa's foot-in-mouth question when he saw someone stumble over the hill ahead of them. The feeling of dread as his stomach heaved could only be a resurgence of his military instincts. The lone wanderer coming toward them didn't seem to be a threat, but something still felt very, very wrong.

  Lisa read his eyes and spun to see what had caught his attention. While her attention was diverted, he subtly checked the pistol at his waist. With confirmation that it was loaded, he resumed the pace they had kept, positioning himself in front of the girl, just in case.

  Approaching cautiously was a young man that looked to be carrying a hiking pack similar to his own. His clothes were ragged; they had seen a lot rougher terrain than this relatively flat, open desert. He stopped twenty yards out and raised a hand in greeting.

  "You don't want to go this way," the young man called out. "Bunch of escapees from the prison took over the town. It's not safe for anyone!"

  Lisa darted around David, disregarding their unspoken safety plan. "Which town? Did you come from Midling?"

  "Nah," he replied, "I left Webster this morning. Midling is another forty miles or so past there."

  "What do you mean 'took over' exactly?" asked David.

  "They started coming in yesterday, a bunch of 'em on horseback, more trickling in late on foot. The town isn't real big, so most people had gathered down on Main Street at the town hall after the quake. I had gone home to try and clean up when I heard the shots. I could see a bunch of strangers riding into downtown, and it looked like trouble. I had my gear packed for a trip I had planned for this weekend, so I just hit the road before they found me."

  David mulled over the story carefully. "So you don't know if they 'took over' the town or just passed through? I mean, you didn't actually see much, did you?"

  "Well, no." The man shifted uneasily. "But all them guys in prison uniforms come into town shooting, they ain't up to no good!"

  “You're probably right," David conceded. "Where are you headed now?"

  "I really don't know. I just figured if they came from this way, they probably ain't planning on coming back, else they just just would've stayed, right?"

  David nodded. "They already hit Santa Maria. No survivors that we saw, you'll have to try somewhere else."

  "What? You plan on going this way still?" The stranger was beside himself. "Didn't you listen to a word I said? Those are criminals with guns up there! It's not safe!"

  David wasn't sure if it was this kid's obvious cowardice, or his own twisted sense of humor, but he couldn't help himself.

  "I know," he stated flatly, pulling the 9mm from his belt. "I did time with them."

  46

  Lisa watched, stunned, as the arrogant young man's eyes bulged and he took off at a dead sprint to the north. David just stood there with the gun at his side, following the fleeing kid with sparkling eyes. Amazingly, the runner never even looked back. Once he crested the slight rise and disappeared over the other side, her partner put the pistol away with a chuckle.

  "Tell me you didn't just do that for amusement." Lisa's voice dripped disbelief.

  Looking not the least bit ashamed, he replied. "Well, it wasn't just amusement."

  "And what else was it?"

  "Encouragement for him to get to safety faster? Oh
, and he was talking to strangers, he'll think twice before he does that again."

  "Weren't you just mature a little while ago?"

  Instead of answering, David put on what she could only assume was his best innocent face. It convinced her no more than it had the judge who sent him here.

  Apparently giving up on that strategy, he got serious. "Either way, we have more important things to worry about. Mainly, do we continue through Webster or skirt around it?"

  "How far out are we now?" she asked, changing gears just as quickly as he had.

  "At least ten miles. We can stay on the road for quite awhile without too much risk." He looked up at the position of the sun. "If we knock out a few more miles and set an early camp we can discuss it over dinner."

  By way of answer, Lisa hitched up her pack and started walking. "Okay, but you're cooking. I made breakfast."

  47

  Camp was made that night in the shadow of a dilapidated billboard that had finally come down, presumably when the earth shook. As David handed Lisa her jerky and trail mix, he considered their options.

  On one hand, Webster was a small town, probably lacking in anything to keep the Prophet's gang there. The town should be empty by now, allowing them to restock and move on toward Midling without too much delay. Of course, if he was wrong and the town was infested with psychotic criminals, it could slow things down considerably.

  Or they could skip the town, bouncing around to the north and avoiding any conflicts raging inside the city limits. The downside of that plan was the time. Going overland would require an extra day and push their supplies near exhaustion, removing their choice at the next town. But again, if he was wrong about the gang's intentions, they would be in Midling two full days before he arrived. That didn't bode well for Lisa's parents.

  He looked across at the woman he had taken responsibility for. "So, if we--"

  "We have to get to them, David," Lisa interrupted in a voice as quiet as a windless night, but as forceful as a hurricane. "I don't care about the people of Webster. I'm sorry, but I don't. I won't leave my parents all alone in this."

  The Soldier watched as tears rolled slowly down her cheeks. He had been wrong; there had never been any option. They would take no risk of delay, no chance of conflict. Tomorrow morning they would stay clear of Webster and push hard for Midling.

  Lisa would not lose her family as he had lost his.

  48

  A cool east wind attacked the pair as they traveled around the north end of Webster shortly after sunrise. The sun was nothing more than a vague idea of light as the fierce weather drove an infinite army of sand ahead of it, obscuring the world from Lisa's stinging eyes. Only David's seemingly innate sense of direction kept them on track; she herself was powerless against the violence of the earth. She thought she could almost make out the silhouette of the town's outlying buildings to her right, but it could just as easily have been her mind playing tricks on her.

  David took her arm and led her over to a crumbling brick well, proof that this vengeful landscape once supported and provided for life. Pulling her down on the leeward side, he spoke over the roar of the gale into her ear.

  "We need to take shelter and wait this out."

  "No, my parents are out there in this. I won't leave them!"

  "Lisa, your parents are probably in their house, safe and sound. If we wait and rest now, we'll be able to cover more ground when it calms down."

  She knew he was making sense, but she didn't care. The desire to make Midling had reached dire levels. It was her reason for existence, she could willingly make her heart stop beating before she could stop trying to find her parents. With tears of desperation mixing with the painful tears of the sandstorm, Lisa shook off all logic.

  "I'm going on. It's just a little wind," she lied.

  She started to stand, but was jerked back down roughly as the felon refused to yield.

  The jerk probably saved her life as the sound of a gunshot was carried on by the wind. Chips of eroding stone joined the sand whipping by her face, proof that a bullet cared nothing for the historic old well.

  David looked as startled as she was, but that look only lasted a split second. For him. For her, she feared she may wear that face for the rest of her life. The adventure books didn't say anything about the terror. Her pulse raced so fast she began to wonder what a cardiac sonic boom would feel like.

  For his part, the Soldier had pronated himself and was peering around the side of their shelter. With the entire planet screaming at them through wind and earth, and a small army--according to her suddenly lively imagination--shooting at them, David looked peaceful. She knew then that she was in good hands as she observed a trained war hero in his natural state. As long as he was at her side, she felt the presence of an entire legion of guardian angels.

  "They weren't shooting at us," he stated in a voice more anxious than it should have been for what she saw as great news. But then again, he was also bringing his rifle around to the side of the well, which should have been unnecessary with the not-being-shot-at thing.

  "Looks like someone tried to escape from town. They dropped him, but he's still alive." He rolled over and took position with the gun, staring intently into the wind.

  "Wait!" Lisa rapped him on the head to get his attention. It worked, and an irritated David rolled back to look up at her.

  "What? They're going to kill him!"

  "He's as good as dead already. If you shoot, then you're risking our lives, too. We'll never make it to my parents if they know we're out here."

  "If people are still alive in this town, maybe we can help them before it turns into another Santa Maria!"

  "I told you David," she said, surprised at the sharp crystals of ice in her own voice, "I don't care about the people of Webster."

  He stared at her, clearly wondering if she had lost her mind.

  "You promised me."

  Staring into his eyes, she saw his mind make the decision long before his heart was willing to accept it. As he set the rifle down and closed his eyes, she wondered what circle of hell she would go to for making him allow murder.

  Moments later, when a fatal gunshot rang her ears for the second time this week, Lisa shed a tear for one lost life, and two lost souls.

  49

  David didn't know where to direct his rage. At Lisa? She had only pointed out simple facts. At the man trying to escape? As a soldier-prisoner, knew all too well the driving need to remain unoppressed. The killer? If he let this emotion--which he now saw was stronger and more sublime than rage--target the murderer, bad things would happen, as according to the prophecy of Lisa.

  So he found a familiar target for the boiling gray matter in his brain: David Saul. He was like an orphanage and a genetics lab all in one, taking in the unwanted and uncontrollable and making it part of himself. The result, self-loathing, was nothing like mom's apple pie, but the recipe was easier and copied on a much wider scale.

  Needing to do something, he peeked around his cover and watched the shooter walk back into town. The man never saw his observers; never knew how close he had been to death. Rolling back to Brittsen, he concentrated on controlling the tone he spoke to her with.

  "I'm going to check the body. I won't leave him to lay there suffering if that wasn't a kill shot." His voice was flat, but the way his friend shied back, he suspected his face belied his true emotions.

  David confirmed that the Prophet's man was out of sight, then stood and walked directly into the blasting sand. His erect gait, head held high, and measured pace were all components of his atonement. He felt the sand like millions of little razors trying to peel the flesh from his face. He felt his eyes water, burn, and close; giving in to the bodies self-preservation impulses. He felt his soul carving him from within, like he was intended to be a jack-o-lantern, but through some divine mistake had ended up with less purpose.

  He felt what he deserved to feel.

  The man he couldn't protect had fallen abou
t fifty yards from his hiding place. As he neared the spot, David forced his eyes open against the onslaught of nature. He found his estimation to be on target, and only had to move a few feet to stand over what he could now plainly see was a corpse. A dark rivulet of blood ran down past empty eyes; sand sticking to the wound caused a golden sparkle, underscoring the value of this life he had sacrificed. And for what? The question was rhetorical, he already knew there was never any answer to it.

  Dropping to his knees, he said a quick prayer for the man's family, then set about the damning task of taking anything of value from the body. Finding only a small pocketknife to be of any use, he gently closed the man's eyes and regained his composure. Preparing to rise, Saul was interrupted by a sudden and forceful metallic pressure at the base of his neck. Flashbacks of a dozen or more clandestine meetings with paranoid underworld types scrolled through his mind, and again he wondered if he would live to flash back to this one.

  With the gun at his brainstem, he had no choice but to slowly raise his hands. He peered out into the storm, thankful that he could barely make out the outline of the well. Knowing what to look for was the only reason he saw the slight movement of what had to be Lisa ducking back down behind the concealment. Stay there! he willed to her. She wouldn't have an easy time out there alone, but trying to rescue him was worse than suicide; it was stupid suicide.

  "Saul? Is that you?" David didn't recognize the voice, though it hinted at a New England accent.

  "Will you put a bullet in my head if I say yes?" he answered sardonically.

  "Hell no! Prophet's going to be looking forward to that too much himself!"

  "Lionel?" Saul may not recognize the voice, but the religious fervor in it immediately identified the man.