Paradise

by Michael R. Watson

  “Maybe fifty. They’re back a little ways waiting for instructions. What do you want me to have them do?”

  Ryder explained about the wood piles and where to find them, asking Darby to split up and spread out the men. We stayed near the central woodpile while he had Darby place two men at each of the two other piles. Lighting the center fire would be the signal to light the others. The intent was simple, the fires and the show of their numbers would hopefully discourage any further advance or aggression from the Guard. The rest of the men were to be spread out behind the bonfires. It probably wouldn’t work. He knew Gant. He wasn’t one to be intimidated. He had his orders and carrying them out would be the only thing that mattered. But, perhaps their numbers would cause Gant and his men to hesitate their advance long enough for more of the Raiders to arrive and provide assistance. Not wanting to tip our hand too soon, Ryder would wait until the very last moment before lighting the center fire, watching for when the Guard appeared to be moving out.

  We didn’t have long to wait. The sun was up now and we could see the encampment even clearer. It seemed the number had magically increased yet again from only moments earlier. It appeared daylight had been what they had been waiting for. They were mounting, preparing to advance. Taylor was easy to spot. He was the only one not in uniform, following Gant around like a yapping puppy.

  Darby came back to us, the word had been spread as directed. Ryder gave the okay to light the center fire. As the fire grew and engulfed the wood pile, gray smoke began to rise, forming a vertical column into the still morning air. Soon, the other two fires flickered to life, both growing into spectacular bonfires. The rising smoke was spotted almost immediately from the Guard encampment with all activity momentarily coming to a stop. The fires had done their job. Then obvious confusion had overcome the camp. Master Gant was pointing. Three pairs of men mounted their horses, each pair riding toward a fire, apparently sent to scout them out.

  “We can’t let them report back,” I told Ryder.

  “I know,” he answered, motioning for Darby to come over.

  “Darby, I need you and Sims to split up and go to the other fires and intercept those riders. We can’t let them report our true numbers back to Gant.”

  “Do you want them taken alive?” he asked.

  “If possible. But, if they resist, do whatever you have to.”

  Darby nodded he understood and left, motioning for Sims to go with him.

  “What about the two coming this way?” I asked.

  “I’ll take care of them,” Ryder assured me.

  I had lost sight of the riders to our east and west, but the two coming toward us were clearly visible from our position behind a small mesquite tree. They had slowed their horses to a walk, cautiously moving toward the fire, alert and ready for trouble. Their weapons were drawn. They stood tall in the stirrups for a better vantage point. Two shots rang out from the west. The riders in front of us stopped, looking in that direction, exchanging words. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but from their reaction and the tone of their voices it was obvious they were concerned. Two more shots rang out from the east. An instant later I was startled by two quick explosions near my head, jerking my hands up to cover my already painful and ringing ears. Two shots had been fired and two dead riders had fallen with their horses running off. I looked at Ryder in shock. He was holding a rifle, still aimed toward the riders, smoke rolling from the end of its barrel.

  “I thought you were going to try to take them alive,” I asked.

  He just shrugged. I don’t know what I had expected. Ryder, from the short time I’d known him, had never shown any signs of violence. As Samuel’s son, I didn’t think he could really do it, rather leaving it to someone else. I was wrong. It appeared living in the wasteland had hardened him. I was sure his father wouldn’t have approved.

  There was a sudden increase of activity in the Guard’s camp, no doubt a result of the shots heard and the riderless horses returning. It resembled an ant hill just stepped on. Everyone in camp was running around frantically, except one, Master Gant. He stood in the center of the encampment, near the main campfire, silently staring in our direction. It seemed as though he was looking directly at me. Taylor stood beside him, pointing in our direction, and from his antics he was obviously yelling at him. Gant looked away from us, seemingly becoming aware of Taylor for the first time. Words were exchanged and Taylor backed away to a safe distance after being poked in the chest. Gant began to shout orders, regaining control of his men.

  * * *

  “What are you waiting for?” Taylor yelled at Gant, frustration in his voice, and a bit too edgy, loud, and disrespectful. “It’s just the people from the valley. They’re right out there. Your scouts are probably dead, but you have them outnumbered.”

  Gant had been trying to ignore Taylor, but now turned toward him, looking at him with contempt. “How do you know how many men they have? Have you seen them? It’s my understanding there could be Raiders with them. And I’m not rushing blindly into an ambush.”

  “I was in their town. They’re sheep. Religious fanatics. They wouldn’t hurt anyone. And so what if there are a few Raiders with them?”

  Gant had to bend over to be nose-to-nose with Taylor, poking his finger forcefully into his chest. “Those sheep, or whoever they are, probably just killed six of my men.”

  Taylor opened his mouth to speak, but the intense look in Gant’s eyes made him think twice about it. He rubbed his cheek as he remembered the backhand the other officer had given him.

  * * *

  Chapter 12

  Master Gant tripled the sentries around the perimeter of the camp during the night. He realized they were still vulnerable in the dawn’s dim light and in a region to which they were unfamiliar. It didn’t appear there was anything else to do until the sky became bright enough to see what they were up against. It was already clear to Gant that Taylor had no idea of what these people were capable of or how many were actually involved.

  Gant kept his eyes focused to the south. He had ordered the sentries to check in on a regular basis and if they didn’t, he’d know why. He didn’t want any more surprises. As the sky continued to lighten to the east, the landscape surrounding the camp became illuminated, giving Gant his first real look at their surroundings and their opposition. What he saw was not what he wanted to see, but at the same time he wasn’t surprised. Spread out in a semi-circle to the south was a line of two hundred or more men on horseback. He was outnumbered by two to three times. And these men weren’t the gentle sheep-like men Taylor had described. These men were ready to make a stand. And his loss of six men earlier was proof.

  Gant yelled out, “Get me Taylor!”

  He had been nearby and had heard the summons, running to Gant’s side. Taylor followed Gant’s gaze to the south. His jaw dropped as he too saw the resistance.

  “Are those the men you were talking about? The men we outnumbered and who would be so easily defeated?”

  Taylor swallowed hard. Their opposition was close enough he recognized two of the riders, Ryder and John. “No, Master Gant, those are the Raiders. I had no idea there were so many of them. They must have called for their own reinforcements. And I can see the father of the escaped family with them too.”

  “It’s obviously clear you have no idea what’s actually going on out here. Do you have any other great insights or suggestions?” asked Gant rhetorically with disgust.

  “No,” answered Taylor without elaborating for once.

  “Well, I have a suggestion for you. Stay away from me, out of my sight, and keep your mouth shut.”

  Gant returned his attention to the situation at hand. “Someone, bring me something I can use for a white flag and my horse.”

  Taylor’s jaw dropped open once again. “You’re not going to surrender, are you?”

  “I told you to keep your mouth shut. But, no, I’m not going to surrender. I just want to talk with them.”

  “I
should go with you then. I know these people,” said Taylor.

  “Obviously, you don’t know them at all. But, it might not be a bad idea for you to come along. If you can’t be quiet though, I’ll give you to them to get you out of my hair.”

  Taylor didn’t believe Gant was being serious. They still needed him to find the valley. But, he was glad he was being allowed to go along, eager to see John’s face when he rode up next to and under the protection of Master Gant.

  * * *

  “Someone’s coming!” shouted one of Ryder’s men.

  Ryder and I looked to see two riders coming toward us, one much larger than the other and carrying a white flag.

  “It looks like they want to parlay,” I commented.

  “I guess I should see what they have to say. Want to come along?” asked Ryder.

  I didn’t have to answer, he already knew what I would say.

  We rode forward a short distance, breaking from the line, forcing the two riders to come to us.

  As they approached, Ryder and I recognized the larger of the two, a huge hulk of a man, Master Gant. It was then I realized how determined the governor was. He would only have sent his best if he wanted to guarantee success. Gant had a reputation for never giving up, always accomplishing what he set out to do, regardless of the odds. Then I recognized the smaller rider, Taylor. My jaw tightened and my teeth clinched together as I was filled with rage. He had to be the reason Gant was here. Gant would never have been sent away from Sector 4 just to bring back runaway workers. One of his subordinates could do that, which was exactly who the governor had initially sent. Gant had to have been sent to take over the valley, based on Taylor’s word. That meant he wouldn’t be going back until he’d accomplished his mission.

  “Gant!” blurted Ryder under his breath. “Why did it have to be him?”

  His reaction seemed to be an expression of both respect and fear. I had briefly forgotten he worked under Gant during his time in the Guard.

  Gant’s ‘all business’ expression never changed as they rode up. Neither did Taylor’s, however his was more of a sneer that said ‘things were going exactly as he wanted.’ He sat tall in the saddle, cocky and arrogant. Gant and Taylor stopped ten feet from us.

  Taylor couldn’t contain himself. “You might as well give up. You don’t stand a chance against the Guard.” He looked at Gant to back him up.

  “Shut up, Taylor!” said Gant. “Remember what I told you.”

  Taylor’s smile faded away, but only temporarily.

  “Ryder,” said Gant.

  “Gant,” acknowledged Ryder.

  “We want Taylor,” I blurted out. “He’s responsible for the death of an elderly man.”

  “Take him. And you’re welcome to him,” replied Gant.

  Nervously, Taylor’s smug grin returned at what he hoped was a joke, not fully knowing whether Gant was being serious or not.

  “Let us pass and a lot of bloodshed can be avoided,” said Gant.

  “We can’t do that. We know what you’re after and we won’t allow it, but I would like to avoid bloodshed too. So, I suggest you go back to Sector 4 and tell the governor you couldn’t find what you were looking for.”

  Gant’s expression never changed as he continued to stare at Ryder for several seconds, then stated, “Have it your own way. Their blood will be on your hands.” He quickly reined his horse around and galloped back toward the camp. The sudden exit left Taylor alone, facing us. The smirk that had been on his face moments earlier was now replaced with a fear for his life.

  “How could you turn on the people in Paradise after they took you in, treating you like family,” I asked.

  Taylor screamed through gritted teeth, “Those people aren’t my family. My family is Sector 4.” I knew he had said it out of spite rather than conviction. I could tell even he didn’t believe it. “And once we’ve taken over the valley, the governor will reward me, and then I’ll be important at Sector 4 and you’ll be dead.”

  “There’s two problems with that,” said Ryder.

  “Yeah. What’s that?” asked Taylor.

  “He’ll never get control and that means your reward will most likely be a noose.”

  Anger flashed from Taylor’s eyes, knowing there was truth in what he said. Without another word he turned toward the Guard camp, whipping his horse into a full gallop. “We’ll see about that!” he yelled over his shoulder.

  I heard the sound of a horse quickly coming up behind us. I turned to see Darby approaching, coming to a sliding stop, and dismounting.

  “More of the men just showed up, Ryder,” he announced. “They’ve been filtering in all night long. Where would you like them?”

  “For now, just have them spread out and join the others as a show of numbers.”

  Darby remained motionless. Ryder saw concern on his friend’s face, seemingly hesitant to tell him something. He gave Darby a questioning look.

  “There’s something else,” Darby said. “Someone else has come too. It’s your dad.”

  Ryder was noticeably disturbed by the news, cursing under his breath. He didn’t have time for this.“Take me to him.”

  I decided to rejoin the front line and give Ryder and his dad some private time together.

  Ryder stopped when he saw I wasn’t following. “I want you there with me when I talk to Dad. You seem to be able to talk to him better than I can. We need to get him to go back before he gets hurt. Maybe he’ll listen to you.”

  I wasn’t going to argue with him. I actually agreed with him that his dad shouldn’t be here. It was too dangerous and I knew he wouldn’t defend himself if it became necessary. We found Samuel sitting at a small campfire in good spirits, calmly chatting with a few of the other recent arrivals. He showed no signs of concern at the battle that was about to take place.

  Samuel’s face lit up when he saw us approaching.

  “Come on over, Son.” He threw his arms around him in a hug like they hadn’t seen each other in ages, even though they had been together just a few days earlier.

  “Dad, you shouldn’t be here. Please go on home.”

  “But I think I can stop all this and keep anyone from getting hurt, on either side.”

  “I’m not so concerned about them.”

  “I’m surprised you’d say that. It’s not how I raised you, Ryder. They have families just like we do. Just give me a chance to talk to them and see if I can stop this. Please, Son. You know I’ve got to try.”

  Ryder couldn’t help smiling just a little. He knew his dad and knew his mind was made up. He would try, somehow, even without his blessing.

  In the brief time I’d known father and son, I continued to see how alike they were, one as stubborn as the other. I knew Samuel meant well, but I also knew he had unrealistic expectations. His sunny disposition would mean absolutely nothing to the Guard.

  “It won’t do any good, Dad. I’m not going to let you risk your life. You need to go back to Paradise where every one there counts on you.”

  “Doesn’t this encounter affect me and everyone else in the valley too?”

  “Of course it does.”

  “Then let me try.” He waited without saying another word, letting Ryder mull it over.

  “Okay. But only if we do it my way.”

  Samuel smiled. “Whatever you say.”

  * * *

  “Master Gant! Two riders coming this way!”

  Gant, who had been sitting near the campfire, stood and walked out to the edge of the encampment, watching as the riders approached. He could see two men on horseback coming their way carrying a white flag. His expression never changed, rarely showing any emotions. He knew they weren’t giving up, understanding their position. From what he’d heard, they had something wonderful and wouldn’t let Governor Davis get his hands on it. However, he had his orders. This was his place in this new society, whether he agreed with it or not. He had his family to think of. He sent one of his men to ask what they wanted. The r
iders stopped and waited for him to come to them. One of them he recognized to be Ryder, a former member of the Guard. The other one was older and had a familiar look about him, but he couldn’t quite place him. The rider came back in short order with a message.

  “They want to talk to you, Master Gant” he said, and looking at Taylor, “and only you.”

  Gant had his horse brought to him and slung himself effortlessly into the saddle.

  “I’m going with you,” declared Taylor.

  “No, you’re not.”

  “You can’t go out there alone. You’ll be a sitting duck.”

  “Watch me.” Gant turned to one of the Guard, “If he tries to follow me, shoot him.”

  He rode toward the riders at a casual pace. When he was close enough to recognize them a slight seldom-seen grin appeared briefly, then disappeared. He pulled his horse to a stop when he reached them.

  “Hello, Daniel. It’s been awhile,” greeted Samuel. “How have you been?”

  Ryder was confused by his dad’s familiarity with Gant. He had never heard anything from either of the men about knowing the other.

  “What are you doing out here, Samuel? You shouldn’t be here,” said Gant, appearing to be genuinely concerned.

  “That’s what I tried to tell him,” interjected Ryder.

  The comment went ignored by both Gant and his dad.

  “I could say the same thing to you, Daniel,” replied Samuel. “I know you don’t want bloodshed here any more than I do, so from one old friend to another, why don’t you go back to Sector 4 and we’ll go home? What do you say?”

  “You’re right, I would prefer there wasn’t any bloodshed, but I have my orders.”

  “You can’t win,” interjected Ryder again. “Your orders won’t mean very much when you and your men are dead.”

  There was a moment of silence between the three.

  Samuel continued, “You’re welcome to come and live with us and leave that world behind.”

  Ryder couldn’t believe what he was hearing. What could his dad be thinking by inviting the enemy to the very place they were fighting to protect?”