American Blackout (Book 2): Slaves Beneath The Stars

by Tribuzzo, Fred

  “Oh, Cricket, I’m sorry I screamed,” Lee Ann said, starting to get up, and Cricket pushed her back down and told her to stay put.

  She came upon the man, who was breathing roughly, and shined her flashlight on him. His own light shined into the branches above, where he was staring.

  “Let go of the gun,” Cricket said.

  “You… the mother?”

  “No, a friend.”

  “I shot into the air.” The man coughed and choked, lowering his head.

  “I know. The problem is what you were doing in the first place—kidnapping children. You knew how these kids would be used and abused and probably murdered when they were worn out.”

  “Survival.”

  “You’re not surviving very well.”

  “Yeah, that’s the pits. Finish me off.”

  Cricket walked wide of the man, gun trained on his chest. Once she was behind him, he tried to turn; she reached down and snatched the gun from him.

  “Don’t have the strength or the guts to do it myself.”

  Lee Ann appeared in the clearing.

  “Smart kid. She must have untied the rope and waited for the right time.”

  “Did he hurt you in any way?” Cricket asked Lee Ann.

  “No, he didn’t say mean things, either. The other man did.”

  “Did they touch you, hurt you in any way?”

  “No, but they talked about what other men would do with us.”

  “Just to pass the time,” the man said, grunting, spilling more blood from his mouth.

  Cricket turned when she heard movement. Fritz appeared. “Ann and Lawrence are waiting for us. They found the rowlocks and paddles. They can take all the kids. Better in the rowboat.”

  Fritz walked over to the dying man.

  “What do you know about this Ajax character?”

  “We’re the little people…” The man interrupted himself to cough. He went on to say something else, took a breath, started another complaint about “the little people,” and died with his mouth open.

  35

  Trekking Through Hell

  Lee Ann and a young boy of six were placed in the canoe between Fritz and Cricket. Lee Ann kept an arm around the boy, who rested his head on her shoulder. A few times she shushed him when he started to cry or say something. Lawrence and Ann put the remaining four children in the rowboat that Lawrence manned, following the canoe to shore.

  The river was play-acting as a lake. Its calm only made Cricket anxious that logs and other debris would suddenly appear and ram them. Another car at the gravel pit, shining its lights, made her stop paddling.

  “Further downriver?” she said quietly.

  Fritz, paddle in the water, raised his hand and said nothing. The car lights went out. They were close enough to see a figure approaching the bank.

  “Oh, it’s Doctor Claw,” Lee Ann announced, and the boy whimpered. She tried to explain he was a doctor and that “Claw” was only a nickname.

  “Good pair of eyes,” Fritz said, and Cricket answered with “ditto.”

  They had drifted a bit further downstream and now had to paddle with greater effort. Cricket turned to see Lawrence digging hard into the water.

  Carrying enough speed, Fritz paddled with Olympian power and hit the bank hard, running the nose of the canoe onto land. Another figure came into view: Sister Marie with an armful of blankets.

  Before separating the kids into each car, Sister and Cricket passed out blankets, coats, bottled water, nuts, and dried fruit and asked their names and ages. Cricket and Fritz held flashlights and had also brought food provisions in the trunk. Claubauf simply observed and kept an eye on the river. Cricket caught his eye and gave a nod of thanks. So did Fritz. Claubauf had been welcomed back into the fold.

  One young child fainted and Sister Marie swooped in and caught the young girl from hitting the gravel.

  “In the car, Sister?” Cricket knelt alongside the tiny girl of seven, holding her head above the gravel.

  “Carry her over to the grass; lay some blankets on the ground. She needs the air.” Sister pointed to the van and Cricket ran to it and grabbed the pillow that Sister had used to sit on to better see out the passenger side. Claubauf carried the child and then brought Sister a lantern.

  Ann and Lawrence kept the children back, and one boy cried that his baby sister was on the ground not moving.

  Cricket and Sister soon realized the girl was no longer breathing and her eyes had rolled back. Kneeling, Sister Marie began CPR by first placing her hands over each other and pumping the girl’s chest. After a couple dozen compressions, Sister blew her breath into the child’s mouth.

  “There’s one on the water.” Claubauf pointed. “He’s signaling with a lantern. I’m going after him.”

  “Don’t,” Fritz said. “We need you and the van. This girl is going to need medical attention tonight.”

  “She’s getting the best attention right now,” the doctor said. “That kidnapper makes it back to his team, we’ll have bigger problems. Don’t worry, you’re not losing your ride.”

  Sister was back to chest compressions when Claubauf got in the van and sped away.

  The brother of the girl on the ground was calling for June, his sister. Cricket had a crazy thought that June was a young woman’s name, in her twenties, then mature with children, and finally an old woman, yet always beautiful through the ages like her namesake.

  “Sister, you want me to take over?” Cricket asked, chastising herself for daydreaming.

  “No, soak some cloth. For her face and neck. Oh, God, what else can I do? Cricket, she still has no pulse.” Sister again felt the side of June’s neck, put her ear to the girl’s chest, and then went back to giving her breaths.

  The boy broke free of Lawrence and his wife and ran to his sister.

  “You’ve got to bring her back to life.” He said this matter-of-factly, as if acting grown up would produce grown-up results.

  “Help, Cricket,” Sister said. “Listen to her.” This time Sister Marie straddled the young girl and started compressions.

  Cricket handed the boy a wet cloth and told him to wipe the face and neck of the girl but to give Sister Marie all the room she needed.

  “Bad men killed my mom and dad. I don’t want to be alone. She’s small but she helped me a lot. She’s smart. I think she’s smarter than me even though I’m older.” He looked up at Cricket. “I never told her how smart she is. I guess we fight too much.” He patted her face tenderly with the cloth. The lantern on the ground illuminated the girl’s pale skin and fine blonde hair.

  The crack of Doctor Claw’s rifle reached the group and everyone looked downriver, except Sister Marie. Cricket had returned her gaze to June when Ann Davies cried out, “My God, he’s on fire.”

  Claubauf had shattered the lantern, splashing kerosene over the slaver.

  Sister Marie had just climbed off the girl to give her another breath when Cricket watched a man and canoe glowing in the distance, on fire. The man danced in the small space of the canoe before jumping into the water and disappearing.

  Death by fire and water. He deserved more.

  The long breath that June took was terrible-sounding, and her brother yelled his sister’s name. Sister Marie quickly turned the girl onto her side to prevent her from choking, and the girl took another long, tortured breath.

  Sister Marie made her demands: “June, focus on your brother—he’s right in front of you—he needs you. Come back, sweetie, come back to us.”

  Cricket felt that the sounds from the girl were too strange, too explosive for a positive outcome. The next breath, though ragged, was quieter. The young girl reached for her brother. Sister Marie sat the girl up so that she could take a swallow of water.

  Ann and Lawrence led the children over so that they could see their friend who had just been raised from the dead.

  The girl looked around, stunned, awoken in a midnight world with a nearby lantern showing glimpses of people
who were all strangers, except for her brother, whose hand she held and wouldn’t let go.

  Part IV

  RADIANT IN THE DARKNESS

  36

  Dying in the Cold Night

  Ajax sat in the shadows of his tent, eyes closed, breathing deeply. He was asleep and yet he sailed over the trees, brushing the night’s energy with his body. He came upon the island and viewed the loss of his prey with little interest, and even less interest for the death of his slavers.

  On shore, he briefly watched a young woman with a powerful energy signature leap from a canoe and start helping the children. An impressive sight.

  He did take note of his captain, the crane operator, dying in the cold night, dreaming of escape from him and from death. But there would be no escape from either. Ajax caught the man just as his spirit body lifted from this life and started its journey. He had the man’s full attention, plunging a claw-like hand inside the captain, yanking on his phantom guts.

  37

  Love Awakened

  During the ride, Sister had asked a single question of Lee Ann and the girl had talked nonstop until they pulled alongside Hank’s home an hour later. Talking had become as important as eating. Cricket had listened to the girl’s lovely chatter remake the world into something of beauty after trekking through hell for many long hours.

  After three in the morning, a decision was made for Ed Cline and his youngest son, Robert, to take the children back to his place in the van borrowed by Doctor Claubauf.

  “We have more room,” Mr. Cline said, eyeing the five kids pressed around the dining room table eating the remaining cheese, fruit, and cookies. “The truth is, kids, I make better scrambled eggs and pancakes than old Hank Holaday, and we got a lot more chickens.”

  June spoke for the group: “Can we have breakfast tonight, or do we have to wait until morning?”

  Robert was already guiding the kids out the door. He smiled at his dad, who addressed the group.

  “Everybody eats tonight,” Ed said, “and goes to sleep in a warm bed.” June, who still held her brother’s hand everywhere she went, smiled back at the old man as she passed him going to the van. She was out the door when she ran back inside into Sister Marie’s arms.

  “I love you. You saved me.” The girl kept her head pressed against Sister’s apron.

  “Now, June, all these good people here were part of your rescue.” Sister named all the adults.

  “I know. I love them, too. But you saved me the second time.”

  Lee Ann walked up to the girl and gave her a hug, saying, “I thought you were brave the whole time. We’ll always be friends. All of us will. Even when we grow up.”

  “Yes, you will,” Cricket answered for Sister, who had tears in her eyes.

  “The world is already on a better track.” Hank looked to Ed for affirmation.

  “Couldn’t agree more, Hank. Tonight, I’m feeling hopeful for the world and our two families. These kids have softened a hard old man.”

  Lee Ann took the hands of June and Allen and walked them to the sidebar where the Nativity set was on display. “I thought of the Holy Family a lot when those men had us prisoners.” The three children studied the animals, the Wise Men, and the parents of the baby Jesus, and then Lee Ann walked them out to the van.

  Cricket had learned from Fritz that Ed Cline knew three of the children’s parents. Unfortunately, June and her brother were parentless, but there was already talk of Robert’s taking them in if relatives couldn’t be found. Ed leaned out the kitchen door and signaled his son that he’d be right out.

  “Hank, you may want to consider moving in with us.”

  “Thanks, Ed, but I think we continue doing what we did tonight. Good neighboring. That’s what saved these children.”

  “I agree with my grandfather,” Fritz said. “Leaving the entire countryside to savages to take shelter and steal and destroy whatever we leave behind will make them stronger. We’ll work as one when it’s necessary. But let’s keep fragmenting the enemy.”

  “Numbers are good, but they invite other problems,” Lawrence said, and his wife, eyes lowered, moved her head in agreement.

  “There’s some character out there called Ajax—” Cricket was interrupted by Diesel, who bumped into her after saying goodbye to the van full of children. She held on to the Lab and rubbed behind his ears “We have to take the offensive.”

  “Are you crazy?” Ann spoke up.

  “We can’t just stay on defense. I’m not saying we raise fifty people and set out today. It’s our attitude that has to change. Strike them before they strike us.”

  “Cricket’s right,” Sister Marie said, before taking a long drink of water. “We now know that not every attack is random, put together on the fly. Those men who had stolen these children were set loose by someone planning to bring our world into greater ruin with the return of slavery. I say this with a heavy heart—we must fight back. Five children’s lives nearly ended tonight by true evil.”

  Ed Cline eyed everyone solemnly and left.

  38

  Loss of Grace

  Cricket’s bedroom window was cracked, and she woke up to Sister Marie’s quiet singing and guitar. Fritz, already up, was working with Oakley on the P-51’s bullet strikes and a nicked prop. He hoped the prop just needed to be dressed, filed down without compromising metal integrity. A deep nick would require a new prop. Forrest had to change a tire on the Barracuda, inspect the underside for any damage, and take the opportunity to change the oil.

  Sister Marie stopped after each song and was talking to one of the children, probably Caleb.

  Cricket sat up and looked about the room. She had been “dreaming” only minutes ago, gliding about the room, dissolving through windows and the wall and watching Sister Marie instruct Caleb on music and life. The midmorning skies were clear in her dream, but a high overcast of gray clouds was now pitched over the trees of the western meadow.

  She dressed quickly and ran downstairs, giving a quick “good morning” to Ann and Lawrence at the kitchen table with Hank, who smiled like he knew everything going on within fifty miles of the farm and in her heart.

  “Where’s Lee Ann?” she asked the group.

  “Right now with your husband looking over that beautiful airplane,” Hank volunteered. “Later, she and her sister are going to try their hand at milking the cows, of course with my guidance.” He smiled confidently. “Both girls slept soundly, according to Sister Marie. She made herself a comfy little bed on the floor.”

  Cricket eyed Ann Davies.

  “I didn’t sleep much,” Ann said, as her husband reached for her hand. “I fired that rifle without a thought. I wished I had more bullets. But today I feel lousy.”

  “You did a brave thing,” Cricket said. “We would have lost lives had you not blown away that bunch of pirates.”

  “I’m not looking for praise.” Ann got up from the table and left for her room. “I feel awful.”

  Lawrence looked beat down from many directions.

  “Thanks, Lawrence,” Cricket said.

  “Some of us don’t bounce back so easily.”

  With a small fire in the stone barbecue pit, Sister sat on the wooden bench with Caleb, exactly like in Cricket’s dream right before she awoke. But it hadn’t been an ordinary dream. Her energy, the wakefulness—they reminded her of the effects from a two-mile run and lots of caffeine.

  “Where’s your coffee?” Sister Marie asked, looking up at her friend.

  “No time for coffee.” Cricket realized her blue T-shirt wasn’t adequate for the cool morning.

  “Adults always have coffee first thing, I thought,” Caleb said, fully assured he was within his rights to comment. It wasn’t like reminding adults that they had forgotten something important or might be repeating themselves for the third time.

  “You’re right, Caleb. I always have coffee. Would you mind getting me a cup and my sweatshirt I left on the kitchen chair?”

  “Sure.�
��

  Caleb ran inside and Cricket said, “Did you see the girls before they headed to the Mustang?”

  “Briefly. They sped out of here, with Ethan. All of them love Fritz and that plane. Freedom and strength in one flying package.”

  “One of them is really interested in flying someday; the other is shadowing young Lancelot.”

  Sister Marie shrugged at the budding romance and placed the guitar flat on her lap.

  “Caleb’s been asking about evil, the devil, and all the weirdness—his words—”

  “I hope you had your coffee before you answered him?”

  “I downed the first one like I was chugging a beer.”

  “You gave an impeccable answer to his question?”

  “No. He refutes my explanations with schoolboy brilliance.”

  “C’mon, Sister.”

  “He needs an emotional appeal, a concrete example.”

  “Today we can tell him the devil has a new name—Ajax, and not the cleanser. That’s concrete.”

  “I told you a little bit about Ajax being a Greek hero in the Trojan War. Here’s the rest of the story. After he carries the body of Achilles off the battlefield, he vies with Odysseus for Achilles’ armor and loses a very coveted reward. He then goes crazy with rage and slaughters a flock of sheep.”

  “Sounds like our guy,” Cricket said pointedly to Sister, adding, “So, why can’t God stop Ajax and all the other ugliness in the world?” Cricket wanted to scream at the sky; instead she aimed her anger at Sister: “Why such pain, all the horrible losses everyone continues to suffer?”

  Sister Marie sighed, exhausted by the age-old question. Sadness marked her face as Cricket’s face reddened, mortified that she was haranguing her best friend. A second punch to the gut came quickly: Cricket realized that Sister also had asked these questions of God throughout her years, knowing that a life of service and profound study would still lead at times to serious doubts. Cricket jumped into Sister’s arms and burst into tears, saying she was sorry.