“They are,” Tank said. “I’m not so much.”
“It’s just…” James began but didn’t know how to put it into words.
“What?” Emmett asked. “Hard? Everything in life that’s worth a damn is hard. Terrifying? You bet your ass it is, knowing that every time you say goodbye to your wife, daughter, mother, or brother could be your last; knowing that no matter what you face out there, you’ll be bringing some of it back with you, no matter how you deal with it; knowing that even if you survived today, there’s no guarantee for tomorrow.
“Don’t think for one second that the absence of fear is courage. To quote a great man, ‘Courage is being scared to death, but saddling up anyway.’ That’s what you have to do every single morning, whether you’re going out on runs in the apocalypse or raising a family safe at home. Courage is something everybody has to choose every day that they face something that scares the hell out of them. So what’re you going to do?”
Emmett locked eyes with each of them, looking at James last. The fire in his eyes and set of his face spoke just as much as his words had. James opened his mouth to respond when Emmett turned. “I know you’ll figure this out,” he said as he walked towards HQ. “You’re warriors.”
James stood there, completely shocked. How had Emmett spoken directly to his heart like that? Had what he was feeling been that obvious? He looked over at his brother and Tank.
“Did we just get mic dropped?” Tank asked.
Connor chuckled. “I think so.”
James took a deep breath. This was far from over, and he was far from defeated. It had just hit home knowing that he’d walked within a few feet of a bomb that killed five good men. It very easily could’ve been them, but it hadn’t been. He said a quick prayer of thanks and for future protection, as well as for the injured Marines. It’d been a long day already and it was only three in the afternoon.
31
The
Greater Good
Emmett sat in a chair in Col. Brigg’s office with Cpt. Sanders and Saul to his right. Col. Briggs wasn’t what you’d expect from a man who commanded so much respect and loyalty from his men. He was average, plain even, with no distinguishing scars. He was neither tall nor well-muscled. If he walked down the street in civilian clothes, no one would even realize he was a full bird colonel who’d earned three purple hearts and a bronze star. He looked from Emmett to the other two.
“Sgt. Wolfe,” Col. Briggs said, “you’re here because you have knowledge about dealing with these Reclaimers, as they call themselves. That and because of your service record and the stellar recommendation of Cpt. Miller here. But make no mistake—your opinion will be taken as just that and nothing else. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Emmett said.
“Good, then we can proceed, off the record,” Col. Briggs said, looking to Cpt. Sanders. “What the hell just happened out there? Assaulting a civilian?”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Cpt. Sanders said. He’d calmed down quite a bit since his outburst earlier.
“Sorry won’t cut it, Captain,” Col. Briggs said. “But that’s a matter for another time. What happened at the Red River Colony? From the beginning.”
“We received a radio call from them yesterday,” Cpt. Miller said. “They had extra crops they were willing to trade for various supplies we had plenty of. I made the call to send our Scouting Team.”
“Why did you send them?”
“I figured it was a better use of our manpower. They’re effective, and it leaves more men here for protection if something were to happen.”
“I can see that. So those three get there, then what?”
“They began to investigate the premises when they didn’t see anyone around,” Emmett said. “After searching one of the apartment buildings, they stumbled onto the bodies of roughly seventy of the residents.”
“Seventy-six,” Cpt. Sanders corrected. “All of the residents were inside.”
“So they came back here, reported what they’d found, and then you got the green light to recover the supplies and any survivors. What happened when you arrived, Captain?”
“We found the colony just as they’d described it. I had men check all of the apartments and outbuildings. They found no survivors and no bodies. Someone, presumably these Reclaimers, had gathered up all of the residents, killing those who didn’t cooperate, and put them in the dining hall. There, they opened fired and killed the rest. This was evident from the bullet holes in the walls and placement of the bodies. Quite a few had even been killed with a knife.
“After we’d established that the colony was clear, we began to load all the food into the Humvees. We emptied the walk-in freezer and cooler, then moved onto the smaller ones. It was inside one of those that a bomb was hidden. When Corporal Johnson opened it to empty out the contents, it went off, killing him and four others around him while wounding four more. We immediately gathered up the bodies and the wounded, and returned here.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, Captain,” Col. Briggs said, true emotion in his voice. “They’ll be missed. Did you take the necessary precautions with the bodies of your men?”
“Yes, sir,” Cpt. Sanders said. “They won’t turn.”
“Good,” Col. Briggs said. “We have some decisions to make. Sergeant, do you know what these people want?”
It was odd being addressed as sergeant again. It’d been years.
“I don’t know for sure,” Emmett said. “But my guess is she’s after us—James, Connor, and Tank especially.”
“Why’s that?”
“Most of our group was captured by them a couple weeks back. I and another of our group were able to rescue them, but we lost a few. James, Tank, Connor, and Chloe were following us and ran into the remaining Reclaimers. They killed them all but the leader, Jezz, and at least one other.”
“They seek revenge then,” Col. Briggs said. “Tell me about their leader.”
“She’s a psychopath, a truly insane individual. She’s also a clever leader and a cunning killer. If there was a bomb there, it was for a reason.”
“It was a trap for those three, but my men were killed instead,” Cpt. Sanders spat.
“You said that the incident at the US Customs Building in Sunburst was them as well?” Col. Briggs asked, looking at Emmett.
“Yes, sir,” he said. “That one was them for sure.”
“They’re determined to have your men. How far will they go to get them?”
“I’m not sure,” Emmett said. “Maybe as far as they have to.”
“And where does that leave us?” Col. Briggs said.
“Caught in the crossfire,” Cpt. Sanders said.
“What are you implying?” Emmett said, staring daggers at him.
“That all we need to do is kick those three out and we won’t lose any more of our own,” Cpt. Sanders said.
“Coward,” Emmett growled.
Cpt. Sanders began to stand.
“Sit down, Captain!” Col. Briggs said in a voice that didn’t leave any room for argument. He looked to Emmett. “The captain may have a point.”
“You just want to kick them out?” Emmett asked, shocked.
“No, but if we asked them to leave, would they go?”
“Maybe, but I don’t think so,” Emmett said.
“But you could still ask. If they do, then it solves our problem and they get to continue on their way. Didn’t they want to get to Alaska?”
“Yes, but things changed when we found this place. It did for all of us.”
“What if they don’t want to leave?” Cpt. Miller asked.
“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, but it may be in the best interest of all of us for them to leave.”
“Whether they want to or not,” Emmett stated, coldly.
“Possibly,” Col. Briggs said.
“Whatever happened to ‘leave no man behind’?” Emmett asked.
/> “That’s in war, Sergeant, and they aren’t my men. They’re three strangers who stumbled into our community, bringing their problems with them. You have no idea the importance of keeping this place safe.”
“This is disappointing,” Emmett said. “I expected better.”
“You of all people should understand having to make the hard choice for the greater good, Sergeant,” Col. Briggs said.
Emmett shook his head. “That was another time and a completely different situation, but I get the hint. Is that all?”
“Yes. I can finish up with these two,” Col. Briggs said. “Thank you for your assistance, Sergeant.”
“It’s just Emmett now,” he said, standing and leaving the room.
That hadn’t gone at all as he’d expected. Col. Briggs was giving them a choice, but how hard would he push to get them to leave? If Emmett asked them to leave, they wouldn’t go. So then he’d explain the situation to them, tell them everything that had just happened. It would be the best choice for the community, but it’d mean almost certain death for them. No, he couldn’t allow the colonel to kick them out and he wouldn’t try to convince them to leave. They might not be the colonel’s men, but they were his men, and he wouldn’t leave them behind.
~~~
Alexis slumped into the chair, peeling off her bloody gloves and throwing them into the trash can as two Marines wheeled out the man she and Henry had spent the last—how many hours?—trying to save. It’d been fruitless. While Dr. Hart worked on the other three less injured patients, they’d tried to save Private Orden. She’d known from the beginning that he wouldn’t survive. The wound in his chest was too severe. They had to try, however, and they’d done their best. Yet as the man’s body was wheeled past her, she couldn’t help but glance at the emotionless face. For a moment she didn’t see the private’s face but her brother’s. She’d been powerless to save him as well.
This time was different, she told herself. I tried this time. He just couldn’t be saved.
Even though she knew the words were true, they didn’t alleviate the guilt inside of her for not saving Pvt. Orden. There were always questions about if she’d done this or done that, maybe he could’ve been saved. Had she done all she could?
“Was this your first one?” Henry asked, glancing at her.
“Yes,” Alexis said.
“It does get easier,” Henry said. “There was nothing we could’ve done differently.”
“I know.”
“Good. Don’t forget it. Now, you need to get washed up and go get some sleep. You look awful.”
“Thanks, I’m exhausted. What time is it anyway?”
“Seven forty-three.”
“Wow, it’s later than I realized.”
“Time goes by quickly when someone’s life is hanging in the balance. Don’t worry about cleaning up. I’ll send someone else to do it. You worked hard today.”
“Thanks, but it’ll help me unwind after all that.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll be leaving in ten if you want me to walk you out.”
“Thanks, I’ll be good.”
“Okay then, enjoy cleaning.”
Henry turned and left the room they used for surgeries. It was surprisingly well stocked. The military must’ve brought a lot of equipment with them, although it seemed like this stuff had been there for a while. She stood up and went to the sink, washing the blood from her arms. The water turned pink as it ran down the drain, mesmerizing her. If she moved past the guilt and worry that she hadn’t done enough, she felt pretty good. She’d tried to help him, and that counted for something. This was what she’d spent her entire adult life pursuing, and she was finally able to make a very real contribution.
After going down to the supply closet to change into clean scrubs and put the others in a garbage bag, she went back upstairs. Henry had already changed, and he threw his scrubs in the bag as well while Alexis picked Dr. Hart’s up off the floor outside his office. After that, she took the garbage bag downstairs and gathered the necessary cleaning supplies from the supply closet. She went upstairs and began to scrub the blood off the floor. After an hour, she had it cleaned up and disinfected. She walked back to her desk and grabbed her jacket off the chair.
“Goodnight, Dr. Hart,” Alexis said as she passed his door.
He mumbled something in response that she couldn’t hear. Walking downstairs, she realized how exhausted and hungry she was. She just wanted to go home, take a shower, eat a bunch of food, and collapse onto her bed, but she couldn’t. Tonight was going to be her best chance. She had an excuse to stay late and she had to use it. At the bottom of the stairs, she quickly looked around and then slipped into the partially open supply closet door. She’d been intentionally leaving it partway open since she started working there so people would get used to seeing it that way. Standing by the shelving, she looked through the crack at the lobby and hallway leading to the locked room. If anyone caught her, she’d tell them she was doing some last-minute stocking before she left.
Now the waiting began.
Luckily, it wasn’t even an hour before she heard a door open upstairs. A few seconds later, Dr. Hart walked down the stairs, passing just in front of her. She held her breath and didn’t even blink. He continued past her and turned into the hallway. At the locked door, he entered the code—five, nine, eight, three—and the door unlocked. He entered the vacant room. The door closed behind Dr. Hart and she smiled. Her hunch had been correct; the doctor didn’t leave the infirmary because he disappeared into the basement.
She gave it five minutes before she snuck out of the room and approached the door. Saying a quick prayer, she entered the code and the door unlocked. She hesitated just a moment before opening it and slipping inside.
32
Discoveries
James sat alone on his cot in their place, the only light in the room coming in from the windows. His side was sore, but luckily the sucker punch hadn’t reopened his old wound. The injury had healed past that point, although he still experienced a dull ache if he moved the wrong way. Connor and Tank were up at the saloon, like they were most evenings, but James hadn’t been able to bring himself to go with them tonight. Maybe it would help him, or maybe it’d just be an escape. He wasn’t there though because he needed to think. He had things to work through. It frustrated him to no end that his emotions were a rollercoaster from hell. One day he was feeling great about the world and the next he was back to feeling like he was completely alone. It was childish, and he needed to do something about it. Or maybe that was the problem—he wanted to do something about it, but he didn’t have the control.
Not this again, he thought to himself.
It always seemed to come down to one word—trust. Maybe he should’ve gotten that tattooed on him somewhere so he could have a constant reminder. When things had gotten tough, even before the apocalypse, he’d always reacted first, getting angry or trying to fix it himself. It was only after he’d made things worse that he remembered it wasn’t up to him. He couldn’t do it alone then and he couldn’t do it alone now. He needed help, but he hated to ask. He needed to surrender and trust, and yet he didn’t want to let go of the illusion of control. Thinking back to the hilltop, he remembered he’d been through this before—recently. This same issue had played out just two weeks ago, and he’d forgotten already. Or maybe it wasn’t so much that he’d forgotten but that he’d tried to take back control. Whatever the reason, he was tired of this merry-go-round he always found himself on. It was time to change that, so he did the one thing that always helped.
James prayed.
It started off like most of his prayers, asking for protection, guidance, and all that, but as he continued, something changed. He let down the walls around his heart and released his grip. He prayed like he hadn’t in years, pouring out his heart before God. There was no surety in his faith, no non-disputable physical sign that his god was watching him or answering his prayer. The
re was always the chance that he was wrong and that his beliefs were all a sham. Yet, he knew that wasn’t true. He knew Jesus heard him. He could feel a presence next to him, sitting on the same cot he was. His faith had always been the centerpiece of his life, even in those times when he forgot or wandered down the wrong path. But he always came back to the waiting arms of his Father.
As he prayed, his head bowed and tears streaming down his cheeks, he made a choice. He would walk the straight and narrow path to the best of his ability, leaning on God the entire way. He would continue on past any hardship the world and Satan threw at him. It would be tough and he would have to constantly turn his eyes upward, yet he knew he could do it. With Jesus, he could do anything.
The minutes turned to hours and the room darkened as night settled on the town.
He opened his eyes, looking around the dark room. Wiping the tears from his cheeks, he stood up, stretched, and took a deep breath—a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He wasn’t alone in all this. It’d been tough, but over the last couple of hours he’d dealt with the doubts he held and the guilt he felt from all the deaths he couldn’t stop or he’d caused, and he’d come to terms with the fact that these episodes were a part of him. They may be around for the rest of his life, but he wouldn’t let them be a dark cloud hanging over him. He’d deal with them the same way he’d deal with everything else going forward—with prayer and faith, leaning not on his own strength but on the strength of one much stronger than he.
Walking slowly so he wouldn’t trip over anything in the dark, he went to the switch by the door and turned it on. The light was extremely bright considering he’d been sitting in the dark for hours. A knock came at the door.
“James, you in there?”
It was Emmett, but there was something in his voice that seemed off. Had James done something wrong? He opened the door to see Emmett standing on the porch, the light from inside illuminating his face.
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