by Steven Bird
Hearing the dozer’s diesel engine rumble to a start, the passengers from the bus gasped as the soldiers raised their rifles in the passengers’ direction.
The officer who appeared to be in charge stepped forward, took a deep breath, and barked the command, “Feuer Frei!”
Upon receiving the order, the soldiers immediately opened fire on the group of unarmed civilians as they began turning to run, screaming for mercy. Bill spun around to embrace his family, shielding them with his own body as he felt several thuds impact his back and his pelvis, sending searing pain through his body before causing him to fall forward and into a world of darkness.
Landing in the soft dirt at the bottom of the trench, Britney felt the weight of her parents knock the wind out of her, nearly smothering her in the freshly dug soil. The barrage of gunshots seemed relentless as the bodies of the other refugees from the bus began falling into the pit around her.
Britney shook uncontrollably as terror swept through her body. “Daddy! Daddy!” she shrieked. Shaking her father, who lay atop her, she felt his warm blood begin to soak into her clothes. “Mom! Mom!” she shouted, shaking her lifeless mother as the deafening sound of gunshots, now including fully automatic fire, surrounded her.
Hearing shouting from the men above, Britney sensed a change in the kinetics of the moment. Something was occurring that she felt wasn’t planned. Instead of their all-business approach to following the orders of their commander, the men of the firing squad were now stressed and confused. Gunshots were coming from several directions, not just the location of the line of men who had formed a firing squad.
Maybe others are getting away? she thought. “Daddy! Mom!” she shouted, shaking them both again, to no avail.
As the shooting subsided, with the violence and chaos slowing to merely a random shot here and there, Britney could hear the footfalls of several men approaching the trench where she and so many of the dead lay from the massacre.
Trying to be as quiet as she could, Britney hoped to remain undiscovered. But what if they start covering us with dirt? What if they bury me alive? Oh, God, what do I do? What do I do? she thought while nearly hyperventilating from the panic sweeping through her body.
A sound and a thump from the impact of boots jumping into the trench on her immediate left shook her out of her silent panic. Britney focused, remaining perfectly still, hoping the man would pass without noticing her.
She felt the burden of her father’s weight being lifted off her, exposing her to the bright sunlight of the day. She covered her face in fear as a man in his early thirties looked at her and with tears in his eyes, and shouted to the others behind him, “I’ve got one!”
Reaching down to take her hand, the man looked at her blood-soaked clothing, and asked softly, “Are you injured? Are you hurt?”
Shaking her head no, reeling from the shock of what had just happened and too afraid to speak, she watched as he turned and shouted, “Pete! Give me a hand!”
“Sure thing, Nate,” Pete agreed, wading his way through the heap of bloody bodies in the bottom of the trench.
“Help me get them off of her,” Nate directed. “And gently.”
Using care to remove her dead mother and father from atop her, placing them gently and respectfully to the side, Nate knelt down, picked Britney up, and carried her out of the trench and away from the horrific scene.
“Don’t look,” he warned softly as he quickly carried her into the woods. Nearly tripping on a tree root, he explained, “Sorry. It’s a prosthetic leg. It does the job, but I still get tripped up here and there.”
Lowering her to her feet, he suggested, “Here. Sit down for a bit while my friends secure the scene and look for other survivors. And don’t worry, I won’t leave you here alone.”
Seeing the emotional pain and confusion on her face, he asked, “Are you sure you aren’t hurt? Do you need a medic?” He spoke while looking her over, paying special attention to the bloody area on her shirt and pants.
Seeing her shake her head once again, Nate extended his canteen to her and urged, “Here. Take a sip.”
As she reached for the canteen, the sounds of gunfire erupted from behind them, where the massacre had just occurred. Spinning around quickly and bringing his M4 to bear, Nate visually scanned the area, struggling with the decision of whether to run to the aid of his comrades or stay with the young girl he had just recovered from the gruesome scene. Knowing that his mission objective was focused on rescuing and protecting the civilians on the bus, combined with the look of sheer terror on her face, he just couldn’t bring himself to leave her.
“C’mon!” he whispered softly, taking her by the hand and leading her off into the densely wooded forest. Hearing the sounds of rotor beats from helicopters approaching from the west, Nate pulled her hand more firmly and insisted, “We’ve got to keep going! No stopping until I say. Got it?”
Nodding that she understood, the two disappeared into the woods, running as fast as they could, leaving her family behind, lying dead at the bottom of a mass grave.
Chapter Two
Sprinting as fast as possible, Britney stumbled on roots and rocks as her weakened condition from poor nutrition took its toll on her, both physically and mentally. Still, she drove herself, knowing that every step took her closer to safety and farther from the horrors behind her.
Looking back, Nate could see movement through the trees. “They’re coming!” he shouted, urging her forward.
As they approached a clearing where a small stream meandered through the woods, Nate looked back to see that their pursuers were rapidly catching up with them. He knew he and the girl couldn’t keep up the pace for long, and the threat was gaining ground on them.
Pushing her harder, Nate pointed across the creek and shouted, “Go! Keep going no matter what!”
Splashing as she ran across the slippery, algae-covered rocks, Britney slipped, falling into the shallow water. As she struggled to get back to her feet, Nate ran to her side, grabbing her by the arm to help her up. “C’mon!” he prodded.
Stumbling out of the stream, Nate and Britney ran into the woods on the far side as a lone figure on a horse appeared, raising a rifle toward them. Releasing Britney’s arm, Nate started to bring his M4 to bear as the man fired over his head. Watching as the man quickly cycled another round into the chamber of his lever-action rifle, Nate spun around to see one of their pursuers lying dead on the other side of the creek.
Firing another shot, the man on the horse quickly dismounted and ordered, “Help her up!” as he again cycled the lever of his rifle, preparing to take another shot into the woods.
Pausing briefly while he processed what the stranger had asked, Nate reluctantly lifted her into the saddle as the man fired another shot.
Turning to Nate, the stranger said, “Cover her!” Looking Britney in the eye, he spoke with a calm, yet authoritative voice. “Hang on. Hank will take great care of you. Trust him.”
Seeing her nod in response, he swatted the horse on the hip and commanded, “Git! Go, boy, go!”
Watching as the horse bolted into the woods, Nate opened fire on numerous targets as more soldiers emerged from the woods on the far side of the creek.
“That way!” the stranger directed, pointing downstream. “Go! I’ll follow,” he said, just before firing another shot.
Running as hard as he could, Nate was rapidly tiring. Losing his footing on the loose rocks, he fell face first, reaching out with his rifle to catch his fall. As he tried to struggle to his feet, the strange man approached and explained, “It’s okay. They’ve stopped.”
“Are you sure?” Nate asked, rolling over and pointing his rifle upstream, scanning the area for threats.
“Yeah. They weren’t looking for a fair fight,” the man assured him. “I guess chasing after unarmed little girls is more their thing.”
Watching as the man walked over to him and offered his hand, Nate reached out and took it. Pulling Nate up to his feet, the
man introduced himself. “I’m Jessie.”
“Um… Nate. My name is Nate,” he answered, stopping short of giving his last name. Looking him over carefully, Nate could see that Jessie was in his mid-forties, with a slim build and a weathered look to him, and a short, scruffy beard that was beginning to show gray and didn’t quite fill in all the way.
“The girl. We’ve got to find her,” insisted Nate, getting back to his primary objective.
“As long as she hung on tight, I’m sure Hank took good care of her.”
“Hank?” Nate asked.
“My horse. His name is Hank. We’d best go find them, though. He gets bored easily. If he was a kid, they’d have had him on ADHD meds back when he was just a colt. He has to find something to get into when things slow down around him.”
Taking a moment to orient himself, Jessie pointed and said, “This way. Let’s see if we can pick up his trail.”
Working their way through the woods on an angle to intercept Hank’s last known path of travel, Jessie observed, “Here we go. He went through here,” Pointing down at hoof prints between the rocks and roots in the softer soil. “Hopefully we won’t see her tracks, too, which will mean she’s still on him.”
“How do you know your horse wouldn’t just keep running?” inquired Nate.
“Hank’s got personality. He acts like he wants nothing to do with people, being an ornery cuss and all, but without people to screw with, he gets bored. No, he’ll slow up and wait for me. We’ve got a pretty good understanding going.”
Approaching a clearing ahead, Jessie gestured for Nate to remain quiet while they assessed the situation from the cover of the trees. “There they are,” Jessie announced, pointing to his red dun quarter horse who was grazing lazily as the young girl lay forward on his back with her arms around his neck.
With a whistle, Jessie called for Hank, shouting, “Hanky boy!”
Recognizing Jessie’s voice, Hank immediately raised his head while still chewing a mouthful of grass. Seeing his master and Nate standing at the tree line, Hank began ambling toward them. Feeling Hank’s change in movement, Britney sat up to see what was going on.
When they approached, Nate and Jessie could see her eyes were red and full of tears. She looked pale, and her cheeks were sunken from hunger. Reaching for Hank’s bridle with his right hand, Jessie fished around in his pants pocket with his left, retrieving a slice of dried apple. Giving the treat to Hank, he whispered, “Good boy. You did real good, buddy.”
Retrieving the girl from the horse’s back, Nate lowered her gently to the ground and asked, “Are you okay?”
Nodding in reply, the girl put her arms around him and squeezed him tightly.
“It’s okay. They’re not following us anymore,” Nate whispered, patting her gently on the back.
Regaining her composure, the girl stepped back and looked both Nate and Jessie over carefully. “Who… who are you?”
“I’m Nate. This gentleman is Jessie.”
“What… What happened? Why did they do that? Why did they just start shooting us?”
“It’s a long story,” Nate replied. “But unfortunately, it’s not an isolated one.”
With a puzzled look on his face, Jessie asked, “What’s she talking about?”
“Oh, you didn’t know?” Nate replied.
“Hank and I were just looking for a place to stop for water. We were working our way toward that creek when we heard machine gun fire.”
“She,” Nate explained, gesturing to Britney. “She was with a group of civilian survivors on a government bus. I’m assuming they were told they were being relocated to another government-run survivors’ camp. Is that right?” he asked.
Watching as she nodded in reply, he continued, “Anyway, with the limits on resources being what they are at the present time, the UF…”
“UF?” interrupted Jessie.
“Unified Forces,” Nate grumbled. “With all the bad stuff going down under the UN flag, the foreign occupiers rebranded themselves the Unified Forces in an attempt to get people who didn’t know better to trust them, fooling them into believing they were here to stop the atrocities and abuses that were perpetrated by the blue helmets, instead of having been responsible for them. With no reliable sources of information out there, no TV, internet, or even phone service, all too many people fell for it. I mean, without an avenue for a dissenting opinion, who can tell fact from fiction these days?”
“That’s easy,” Jessie quipped. “If someone from what’s left of the government says it, it’s fiction.”
Nodding in agreement, Nate fumed, “The UF has just enough Americans on board to make it seem like an American-led organization, too, when it’s really the same bunch of globalists. They’re basically hiding right out in the open behind a different label.”
Shaking his head, Jessie grumbled, “Same filthy bastards, different flag.”
“Yep,” Nate confirmed. “Control the food supply, control the people. Anyway, the government-run camps, formerly operated by FEMA, can’t feed, clothe, and provide medical care for the masses. Illnesses that were once all but eradicated have been making a comeback, and some formerly easy-to-treat conditions have become a death sentence due to the lack of available resources.
“They’re slowly but surely filtering out the ones they think can be led or turned, and those who they feel may be threats. The ones labeled as not useful to ‘the cause’ are told they’re being shipped off to a new camp with more resources, but…”
“I get it,” Jessie interjected, sparing the young girl the gruesome details. “What’s your involvement with all this?”
“I’m with a group that’s not putting up with it,” Nate responded matter-of-factly.
“Good man,” Jessie replied. “What group? Who are you with?”
Pausing before answering, Nate replied, “Like I said, just a group that’s not putting up with it.”
Smiling, Jessie shrugged. “Good OPSEC. That’s smart. You just met me. I wouldn’t tell me, either.”
Looking around nervously, Nate admitted, “I guess I can trust you. I mean, we wouldn’t be alive right now otherwise. So, if you could stay with her for a bit, you know, just in case, I’ll be right back. I’ve got to see if any of my guys made it, and I’ve got to try and gather any intel I can on the current situation.”
Nodding, Jessie affirmed, “Of course. We’ll hang tight until nightfall. If you’re not back by then, I’ll get her somewhere safe.”
Reaching out his hand, Nate said, “Thanks. Thanks for everything. I’ll be back.” Turning to leave, Nate paused, looking back at the girl and then Jessie. Taking a deep breath, Nate turned and darted off into the woods in the direction from whence they came.
Looking at the girl, Jessie asked, “What’s your name, miss?”
With her head held low and her eyes looking up at him, she replied. “Britney. But people call me Brit.”
“Nice to meet you, Brit. Let’s get you something to eat. You look hungry.”
~~~~
While Britney rested in the shade beneath a large oak tree, Jessie dutifully stood guard, scanning the surrounding area for potential threats.
Looking her way, he could see the toll the day had taken on her. Her eyes were swollen and red, and the jerky he had given her was still lying next to her, now covered with ants. Not one bite had been taken.
Walking over to her, he knelt down and picked up the jerky, brushing the ants away with his finger. “There won’t be anything left for you if the ants eat it all.” Placing it in a strip of cloth and rolling it up, he placed it next to her and assured her, “It’ll be right here whenever you’re ready to eat.”
Seeing her eyes pass over the jerky and then away, off into the distance, he empathized, “I know it’s not all that appetizing, but once we get a little farther from here, we’ll get you some fresh protein to eat. We need to get moving as soon as Nate gets back. We can’t get too settled in just yet.”
L
ooking over to the cloth Jessie had wrapped the dried strip of meat in, she picked it up, pulled the cloth back, and took a small nibble. It was more of a symbolic gesture than anything, but it made Jessie feel better nonetheless that she was making an attempt.
Jessie knew all too well the emotional turmoil of having everything important to you stripped away in an instant. He ached in his heart for the young girl, but did his best to conceal his memory-fueled empathy so he could stay strong for her in her time of need.
“Do you think he’s okay?” she asked without even turning her head in Jessie’s direction.
“Well, he seemed like a capable fellow. I have faith in him.”
Just then, Jessie heard a twig snap underfoot in the direction from which they had come. Raising his Marlin.30-30 rifle to the ready position, Jessie saw Nate emerge from the brush, waving his hand to show it was him.
Lowering his rifle, Jessie hurried over to Nate, keeping out of earshot of Britney. “Well?” he asked.
Shaking his head, Nate hesitated. “I couldn’t find any other survivors. None of our guys made it out either.”
“Who exactly is ‘our guys’?” Jessie inquired, still uncertain of who he had been fighting alongside.
“There will be time for that later,” Nate maintained, as he looked to Britney sitting under the oak tree in the distance. “How’s she holding up?”
“She’s quiet and doesn’t seem to have an appetite, but that’s to be expected, I guess. Do you know her or her people?”
“No. Like I said before, I’m with a group that’s just not gonna put up with such things anymore. We’ll get her somewhere stable and safe, and far away from the UF. She can start to heal properly then.” After an awkward pause, Nate determined, “Well, mister. Thanks for the help, but I’d best be getting back to my unit. She and I will be just fine. You can ride along now.”