The front door opened, and the long barrel of a shotgun slid out the crack. Behind it I could see a figure but couldn’t make out the face. “Hey, Tom,” I said with a wave and waited for him to realize it was me. After a moment the door opened and Tom stepped out on the small porch, closing the door behind him. He set the butt of the shotgun on the deck, holding it by the barrel. “Hi, Morgan.” He was sporting a full beard and looked thin; his clothes were hanging from him.
We walked up to him, stopping at the foot of the steps to the small deck. “Hey, Tom, Taylor wanted to visit with Rene, is she around?”
He shuffled his feet a couple of times and said, “Yeah, she’s here, it’d probably do her good to see Taylor. Go on in, she’s in her room.” Tom opened the door and Taylor bounded up the stairs, after she was in he shut the door again.
“Is she alright?” I asked.
His lips began to quiver a bit a tear ran down his cheek. “Uh, no she’s not well. You know she was always so thin, I think she’s starving to death. She’s so weak and can’t hardly stand up without getting light headed.” His voice cracked as he talked.
“You guys out of food?”
He huffed, “We’ve been out of food for weeks, we’ve been eating the horse feed.”
“Didn’t you go to the community meals that Mark put on, the food from the county?”
The shame he felt was obvious, he couldn’t look at me. “No, I was embarrassed for everyone to know I couldn’t take care of my family. And now Rene is so sick.”
“Can I see her?”
Tom looked up and wiped his eyes then sniffled. “Yeah, come on in.” He opened the door and we went in.
Taylor was sitting beside Rene on her bed. She looked horribly thin. Taylor looked like she was about to cry. I grabbed Tom by the arm and walked out of the room. Once we were in the living room I told him I was going home to get some things for him, for her. He protested, saying he couldn’t take anything from me and I snapped. “This isn’t a fucking offer! Do you see her, I mean do you really see her? I have two twelve packs of Ensure at home. I’m going to get those and you’re going to start pouring that into her. I’ll get you some other food for her too, for you two too, and you will eat it, you got it?”
He was crying openly now, nodding his head. Rene’s mom was sitting on the couch. She was crying too, and just like Tom and Rene she was sickly thin. I left the house and jogged back home.
Chapter Twenty-Five
When Thad finished he slid his ass forward in the chair and leaned back. At this point he just didn’t give a shit what happened. Captain Taylor had listened to Thad’s story with great interest, occasionally making notes on a little pad. When Thad relaxed, Taylor rocked back in his chair, lifting the front legs off the ground and cupping his hands behind his head. He sucked his teeth for a minute, looking intently at Thad.
“Thad, if I cut those cuffs off you are you going to give me any trouble?”
Without moving Thad replied, “Not a bit.”
Taylor stood up and walked around the table, motioning for Thad to stand. Thad stood up and heard the click of the flex cuffs being cut. He rubbed his wrists and rolled his shoulders against the stiffness they had caused, his elbow was particularly uncomfortable and he pulled his shirtsleeve up and looked at it. Taylor looked over and said, “That doesn’t look so good, what happened?”
Thad told him about the shootout at the house. He didn’t tell him about executing the girl; he didn’t want to remember it and damn sure didn’t want to tell anyone else about it.
“Tell you what, walk with me over to the tent with the medics and let them look at it and I’ll get you something to eat. You hungry?”
Thad hadn’t thought about food in a long time, and until Taylor mentioned it he didn’t realize how hungry he was. Now he was starving. He nodded and followed Taylor out of the tent. They walked through a series of tents. The path between them was lit with those little solar landscape lights. Thad made a mental note of that; it could come in handy later. Taylor stepped into another tent and Thad followed him. Inside there was an examination table in the center with tables and shelves around the sides. Medical supplies were stacked up everywhere and two paramedics sat in a couple of folding camp chairs in the light of a Coleman lantern.
“Guys, Thad here has a bullet wound I’d like you to look at,” Taylor said, pointing to Thad’s arm.
The two men stood up and asked Thad to sit on the edge of the table. He did and they started the process of exposing his arm. When one of them reached for his shears, Thad told him wait and stripped out of his shirt; he didn’t have many. They asked the usual questions and he answered them as best he could. When they asked what caliber it was he said he didn’t know if it was a bullet fragment or a piece of a Ford.
The wound was infected. The two medics cleaned it, a painful process that Thad endured without complaint, and then dressed it in a clean dressing. After asking if he was allergic to any medications and being told no, they gave him a bottle of penicillin and told him to take it three times a day. Thad said he would and turned to leave. Taylor was gone so Thad stepped out after thanking the medics. Back outside he looked around and heard a voice call him from behind. He saw Taylor waving at him from the flap of another tent and walked that way.
Taylor held the flap open and Thad walked in. There was a long table on one side full of big silver trays typical of a buffet. Under each one sat a can of Sterno, the blue flame licking at the bottom. This tent was lit with some lights, the kind from a construction site, little yellow cages strung out on a cord. Taylor pushed Thad towards the tables, other people, mostly in uniforms, were sitting at other tables in rows inside the tent, eating. Most didn’t even take notice of him. Thad picked a paper plate and went through the line. There were scrambled eggs, institutional grade bacon (but still bacon!), potatoes and a big vat of grits. Thad filled his plate and took a cup of orange juice and looked for a place to sit.
Taylor was right behind him and guided him to a table with two men sitting at it. They took the two free seats and sat down. Thad set to work on his plate immediately. The other three men chatted amongst themselves while Thad ate and he paid them no mind. Thad’s big elbows were on the edge of the table and his head hung over his plate. After his second trip through the serving line, Thad dropped his fork onto the plate and finally sat back.
“Damn I guess you was hungry!” Taylor said.
Thad patted his belly. “Guess so.”
“When was the last time you ate anything?” one of the other men asked.
Thad glanced away and said, “It’d been a while.”
“Thad, I’d like you meet Sheriff Billy Holland,” Taylor said, nodding his head towards one of the other two men at the table.
Thad looked at him. He didn’t look like a sheriff; he looked like everyone else around here. He wore the same BDU style pants, black t-shirt and sheriff’s jacket that they all wore. Thad looked at him and said, “Nice to meet you, sheriff.”
The sheriff nodded and sat there looking at Thad for a minute before glancing at the man beside him. The other man just raised his eyebrows and went back to swirling the coffee in his cup.
“Thad, Captain Taylor tells me you had a run in with the DHS, that true?”
“I wouldn’t say I had a run in, but my wife and boy did.”
“That’s what I heard, and I also heard what you did about it. Was all that true?”
“Ever last word.”
The Sheriff nodded his head. “Well, I’m sorry for your loss, I only wish you had made it here sooner. Lake County will not be taking any shit off any Federal acronym.”
“That’s nice to know sheriff. If I can do anything to help, just let me know, Far as I’m concerned we ain’t even yet,” Thad said.
“Where were you heading?” the sheri
ff asked.
“I was heading to a friend’s house. We walked together for a long ways when we was trying to get home. He’s the only person around here that I know now.”
“You walked home? From where?” Captain Taylor asked.
Thad spent the next few minutes telling the story of his trip home and all the things he and Morgan had been through. When he finished, the three men looked at one another, then back at Thad.
“Where’s your friend live, and who is he?” Taylor asked.
“The address is on a piece of paper in the front seat of the truck. It’s somewhere in Altoona. His name is Morgan and he’s a good man.”
The sheriff looked at Taylor and motioned with his head. Taylor got up and left the tent. The sheriff went to the serving line and returned with two cups of coffee, handing one to Thad.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. Your friend, his last name Carter?” the sheriff asked.
Thad nodded.
“Thad, this quiet guy over here is Captain Lewis. He’s head of the jail.”
Thad nodded to Lewis as he took a sip of the coffee and Lewis did likewise. It wasn’t long before Taylor reappeared with the slip of paper and handed it to the Sheriff, who looked at it and handed it back.
“Thad, under our current situation I am having to confiscate all running vehicles. One as useful as yours would be a big help to us right now. But where you’re going there are a couple of our men there. If I was to let you leave with the truck, would you turn it over to them when you got where you’re going?”
Thad sat thinking for a minute, staring down into his cup. He wasn’t sure what the hell was going on here. Were they actually going to let him drive out of here? If they did, he would turn the truck over, no big deal to him; he just wanted to get to Morgan’s house. After draining the cup he set it down and said, “Sheriff, I’ve been an honest man my whole life. I’ve never taken anything from anyone and I always provided for my family. I don’t have a family now. All I have now are a couple of friends, and at this point all I want to do is get to them. If you let me drive over there I’ll be happy to turn the truck over to your folks.”
The sheriff said, “Well, alright then.”
Thad pulled out onto Highway Nineteen and couldn’t stop smiling. He had a letter, on Lake County Sheriff’s letterhead no less, that made sure he would make it where he was going. That they had taken the M4 and the tactical vest was an even trade in his mind. He reached over and picked up the hand-drawn map that Taylor had given him, and again he smiled and shook his head.
Thad kept an eye out for Lake Shore Drive. They had said it was the fastest way to Morgan’s house. Lake Shore was closer than he expected and he made the left on it without having to wait for the light. This was just getting better and better. Thad enjoyed the ride along Lake Eustis, it was a huge lake and the road wound its way along the shore under a canopy of oak trees. On the right there were some large houses that faced the lake on his left. Thad looked at those big houses and wondered about the people that lived in them, what they did to make all that money and what they were doing now.
As Thad crested the bridge over the canal for the boat ramp, he slammed on the brakes. Sitting in front of him in the middle of the road were two Humvees. On the road on either side were sandbag emplacements. In each of these there was a machine gun mounted and both of them were pointing at him. Shit, Thad thought as he slapped the steering wheel. Several men were approaching the old Scout with their weapons raised. They ordered him to put his hands up and with no other choice he did as instructed.
As the uniformed men approached, they ordered him out of the truck and he again complied. Two men on the other side opened the passenger door and looked in. “Clear!” one of them called out. A man that Thad assumed was in charge of the operation came up holding his M4 across his chest as the two men that had ordered him out were searching him.
“He’s clean, LT,” one of them said.
“Where you headed?” The LT asked.
“Just trying to get to my buddy’s house.”
One of the men from the passenger side came around the truck and handed the lieutenant a piece of paper. He read it then looked at Thad and handed it back to the soldier that brought it.
“The sheriff give you that?”
Thad nodded his head. The lieutenant stared at Thad for a moment as if he were searching him for some sign of deceit. After a long moment he called over his shoulder, “Find anything in there?” One of the men searching the truck replied, “He’s got some guns and shit, nothing major though.”
The LT pointed at the truck. “You can get back in.”
Thad climbed in and shut the door. The LT walked up and said, “Let me see your pass there” and held out his hand. Thad handed it over and watched as the LT took out his pen and made a note on it then handed it back.
“There’s another checkpoint you’ll have to go through on the other side of town. Just show them this. I’ll let em know you’re coming and they wont give you any trouble. If the sheriff says you’re good to go, that’s enough for me.”
Thad gave the man a nod, and the LT stepped back and waved at his men. “Let him through!”
.
It was early morning, the sun was up and it was still a little chilly out. Downtown Eustis had a mix of business and residential areas all intermingled. As he drove down the quiet street, Thad didn’t see any people; it was eerily quiet. He drove by the post office, then past a little strip mall. As he was negotiating a curve in the road, he again had to stop abruptly. In the road ahead was another roadblock. This time the men manning the roadblock didn’t instantly raise their weapons. One of them simply walked out to the Scout. Thad waited for the soldier to approach and held up the pass.
“Mornin’,” the soldier said as he came up to the window.
“Mornin’,” Thad replied.
The soldier looked at the pass with a quick glance. “LT said you were comin’. Where you headin’?”
“To my buddy’s place in Altoona.”
The soldier stood there for a minute looking at the truck. “How’d you manage to hang on to this old relic?”
“Just lucky, I guess.”
“Well, good luck.”
As the soldier started to leave, Thad asked, “Is there any trouble up ahead?”
The soldier turned back. “Nah, not really. It’s pretty quiet around here as far as we know. The farther you get from here the less we know though, so be careful.”
According to the map Taylor had given him, it was straight shot up Nineteen to Morgan’s place. Thad made it to Umatilla in only a few minutes. There were a few people out, but not many. At the McDonalds he passed two men on horseback, and they stared at him as hard he did them. Before it had been an oddity to see people on horseback in the middle of the road; now it was odd to see a moving car. It was as if some rift in time and space had opened up and two peculiarities were brought face to face for just an instant.
Thad made it through town and continued down the road. After winding his way through the small hills on the north side of town he saw the sign for Altoona. Picking up his map, he saw his next reference point was Highway Forty-Two. Just a moment after putting the paper down he saw the three little stores that marked the intersection of the two roads. The parking lot of the big Kangaroo store looked like a flea market. Makeshift tables had been set up and people were setting up their wares for the day’s trading.
The one thing that caught his attention was the two men in full camo holding rifles. He watched as one reached out and grabbed the other, pointing at Thad and his Scout. Thad kept his eyes on the two men as he passed them, and they also kept their eyes on him, talking between themselves and motioning towards the truck. In short order he passed the store, and as he passed the fire station Thad c
hecked the mirror for the two men, but they weren’t there. Thad noticed the field on the left, just where Taylor said it would be, and he slowed the Scout, looking to the right side for the road sign. There was a barricade with armed men behind it and they were looking at him.
Mike was firing his M4 at the helo that was coming straight at them, but with the bouncing he probably wasn’t coming close to it. Captain Lewis was still leaning on the cab, looking wide-eyed as the gunner raised the weapon to his shoulder. Doc, with his foot to the floor, was leaning over the wheel to look up at the approaching bird. Sarge was lying on his back, firing over the cab. His rounds too were probably ineffective. When the gunner opened up the first rounds passed over the truck, Mike began to scream, a guttural, primal growl, flipping his weapon to full auto he held the trigger back.
The first 30mm round passed through the rear compartment of the helo, coming in on the gunner’s side and going out the other. The men in the truck watched as he jerked his head to the right and fumbled for the mic button for his intercom. He wasn’t fast enough though as the gunner in the Apache let loose a six round burst that slammed into the engine compartment and tail boom of the ship. The guys in the truck watched as the helo folded and found its way into the blades and exploded into a blur of flying metal. As the helo spiraled to the ground, the gunner was flung out of the spinning ship. Mike and Sarge looked on as the man was spun around the falling ship from the end of his safety lanyard.
The Apache roared overhead and behind the tumbling aircraft, then made a hard turn and raced to catch up to the other one that was chasing the second DHS bird. Shouts and cheers erupted from the bed of the truck as the flaming wreckage of the helo landed in the trees to the right of the road.
“Raven two-two, Stump Knocker.”
Lewis grabbed his mic, and over the rush of wind and banging of the truck he replied, “Go for Stump Knocker!”
Surviving Home Page 26