American Reset: Book Three

by Mark Goodwin

  Karen said, “Then that means there is at least one more shooter.”

  Rene worked the pump of the shotgun to eject the remaining shells. “Or it means he switched guns. Only two shells left.” She reloaded the shells and propped the shotgun against the van.

  The girls approached the front door cautiously. Rene entered the room first and Karen followed smoothly behind her. Next, they went to the kitchen. When it was cleared, the girls stacked back up and reentered the living room. They cleared the bathroom and the bedrooms checking under the beds and the corners of each closet. Another corpse lay bleeding all over Karen’s floor. A semi-automatic pistol sat on the floor near his head.

  Karen said, “I guess this pistol belonged to pee pee pants’ out there and he took the shotgun from Charlie here.”

  Rene asked, “Do you always give nicknames to your victims?”

  “So far,” Karen said sarcastically.

  Karen turned on the lights and could see the greying skin of the body on her bedroom floor. “We’ve gotta get him out of here before he starts to stink.” She bent down to look under the bed. There was Miss Mae hiding behind the suitcase. “It’s alright, you can come out whenever you’re ready.” Karen knew the cat would likely stay hidden until at least tomorrow morning.

  They started to drag the body but noticed they were creating a trail of blood through the house. Rene suggested, “Let’s wrap him in the shower curtain and drag him out of the house.”

  Karen agreed, reluctantly. It was a cheap plastic shower curtain, but there were no more Dollar Stores and it would be hard to replace.

  They wrapped the corpse in the shower curtain and dragged him to the back door. Once outside, Karen insisted that they unwrap him and try to salvage the shower curtain. The two girls went to the shed and found a shovel. Karen scouted out an open area in the tree line far from the creek so their water source wouldn’t be fouled. The two girls took turns digging with the shovel and eyeballing the size of the grave. Once they hit a depth of about three feet, they hit a series of large tree roots.

  “That has to be deep enough,” Karen said. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know,” Rene stepped down into the grave. “This seems like it should do the trick.”

  They went back to drag the man to the grave. He was heavy and the two women were tired.

  “One down, one to go,” Karen said as they kicked him into the hole in the ground.

  “Let’s get this over with,” Rene wiped the sweat from her face.

  Twenty minutes later, they were patting down the dirt on the shallow grave. “Should we say something over the grave?” Rene asked.

  “Yeah, good luck,” Karen said as she walked away. She was angry that the criminals had pushed her to such a place as having to kill another human being. There would probably be other emotions later, but for now, she was just mad.

  The two girls got cleaned up and ready for bed, but neither of them were going to sleep anytime soon.

  CHAPTER 15

  “Though the flame of liberty may sometimes cease to shine, the coal can never expire.”

  -Thomas Paine

  Matt woke to the sound of the steel door being opened on his container. The hard work in the coal mine was at least making him sleep better. He felt the agonizing stiffness in his joints and back from both sleeping on the hard metal floor of the container without a mattress and from the tough work in the mine. The guard opened the door and yelled, “Five minutes!”

  “God give me strength, just for today,” he whispered as he stretched his aching body. Matt cupped his hands and drank as much water as he could from the bucket in his cell. The guards in the mine weren’t very big on giving breaks. Matt needed to hydrate as much as possible right now.

  Doc whispered from the next cell over, “You ready for another day?”

  “Do I have a choice?” Matt replied.

  Another prisoner came through with the tasteless nutrition bars that they were fed each morning for breakfast.

  Matt said, “Thank you.”

  The man just smiled and nodded at Matt. As soon as Matt finished his ration bar, the guard began making his way through the container with the restraints. Everyone put their hand and ankle cuffs on quickly since these guards had shown they held no reservations about killing anyone they deemed to be uncooperative.

  Matt placed the shackles on his feet, then his wrists. He looked over at Doc and whispered, “Hi ho, hi ho.”

  Doc forced a smile and whispered, “Off to work we go.”

  Matt followed the routine of going through the line, getting his jumpsuit and work boots and loading onto the bus. He was very careful to observe the actions and attitudes of the guards on the bus. This was only the third day of the work commute, and he could see the guards becoming noticeably more complacent. The absolute silence rule was already replaced by an occasional “Shut up!” when the whispering became loud enough to aggravate the guards. That was good, because if Matt was going to make a move, it would have to be soon. The ration bars were not enough for Matt to maintain his weight. He had been about twenty pounds overweight prior to the collapse. Less availability of the sweet treats Matt was so fond of contributed to a loss of about ten pounds since the meltdown. He had probably lost another three or four pounds since he was locked up only five days prior. At that rate, he would be too frail to escape in a month.

  Matt whispered to Doc, “What happened to that guy, Wendell, who came in with you Sunday night? They took him to the infirmary after our shift Monday. Haven’t seen him since.”

  Doc replied softly, “Don’t know. I’m starting to suspect that ‘infirmary’ is a euphemism for ‘shallow grave.’”

  They arrived at the mine, unloaded and were herded into the elevator. Through the day, Matt thought about the different tools in the mine that could be used to effect his escape. The pick would be a great weapon, but there was no getting it out of the mine; same thing with the shovel. Matt made a conscious inventory of all the small pieces, belts and pulleys on the massive drilling machine and the loading machines. Surely, the machines wouldn’t work if any of those pieces were missing. At the end of the day, Matt grabbed the wire brush broom and started sweeping his area. Matt noticed one of the wire bristles fall out. He thought nothing of it at first, but then went back to pick it up. When it was time to return to the surface, Matt stuck it in his mouth.

  On the ride home, Matt pulled out the wire and began toying with it inside the keyhole of his handcuffs. Just before they reached the prison compound, Matt popped the cuffs. The bus came to a halt, Matt relocked the handcuffs and stuck the wire back in his mouth.

  In the shipping container that night, Matt washed up and called Doc over to the chain-link fencing that separated their cells. “I figured out how to open the handcuffs with a piece of wire. I tried to feel around for the locking mechanism inside the cuffs, but couldn’t really figure out how to manipulate it. I finally tried sticking the wire inside the area where the cuffs come together. I wedged it between the teeth of the lock, tightened them just a bit and then opened the cuffs. They popped right open. Why don’t you take the wire and try it on the way to the mine tomorrow. I’ll try to get another couple of pieces of wire from the broom.”

  Doc said, “Alright, but then what?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Matt replied. “But let’s just focus on that for now. Once we’re proficient with popping the cuffs, we’ll think of the next step. I’m sure everybody wants out of here. We have the least amount of guards when we’re on the bus. If we’re going to make a move, that’s the time to do it.”

  “Should I tell Carl over here in the cell next to me?” Doc asked.

  Matt said, “I think it’ll take all of us. I can’t imagine anyone being a snitch. Of course I never thought someone in my unit would sell me out, either. Still, I think we have to take that chance.”

  Doc said, “Our time here is limited anyway. I think the plan is to use us up until we can’t work anymo
re. After that, it’s a one-way ticket to the infirmary.”

  CHAPTER 16

  “War—An act of violence whose object is to constrain the enemy, to accomplish our will.”

  -George Washington

  After Wesley’s memorial, Adam and Justin loaded their gear into the cab of the truck. They stopped by the barn and fed their two hostages. Adam grabbed a pump sprayer and a two-gallon gas can. He placed them in the tool box of his truck.

  “Stand up,” Adam said to Michael. Michael stood and Adam led him to the truck bed where Adam quickly restrained him. Adam hog-tied Susan and threw the canvas tarp over them so no one would see them while driving down the road.

  Adam and Justin picked up Gary who was waiting outside when they arrived. Adam laid out the plan. “Gary, I want you up on the hill near Michael’s house as a lookout. Don’t break radio silence unless there’s a threat. If Milton comes to the door alone as planned, depress the talk button on the walkie three times. The static created by the talk button will be our cue that all is well.

  “Justin, you sit back in the bedroom until Milton arrives. If he tries anything or gets the drop on me, come out shooting.”

  Justin said, “It’s going to be a tight fit back there with all three of them tied up on the way home.”

  Adam said, “Michael and Susan aren’t coming back.”

  Justin and Gary didn’t ask for any further clarification on that comment. When they arrived at Michael’s, they unloaded the hostages into the house and Gary drove the truck up the hill and parked it inside the tree line so it wouldn’t be spotted.

  Adam sat Michael and Susan on the couch. “Can I have a shot of whiskey?” Susan pleaded.

  “I’m going to need you to stay sober for a little while,” Adam replied.

  Just before nine o’clock, Adam’s ear piece made the three distinct sounds of static to let him know his guest had arrived and was indeed alone. Seconds later, there was a rap at the door. Adam nodded, took cover in the kitchen and Susan called out, “Come on in.”

  Milton walked through the door. “What time is this joker supposed to get here?” As soon as he shut the door, Adam walked into the living room with his M4 level at Milton’s face.

  “Hands on your head,” Adam said calmly. “Justin, come on in here and search him.”

  Justin placed the zip tie restraints on Milton’s wrists. He removed the Smith and Wesson M&P .40 pistol from Milton’s service holster and cleared his pockets of a wallet, six one-ounce gold pieces, a pocket knife and keys.

  “Why don’t you have a seat next to your sister?” Adam said.

  Milton asked, “What’s all this about?”

  “I need to know if DHS took any prisoners at the ambush you helped to set up,” Adam asked politely.

  Milton said, “Why would I tell you? You’re going to kill me anyway.”

  Adam said, “Justin, bring me a rag from the bathroom and see if you can find any tape around here.”

  Justin went to the bathroom and came back with a washrag. He went to the kitchen and scratched around in the drawers. He walked back in the room holding a roll of masking tape. “No duct tape. Will this work?”

  “I guess it’ll have to,” Adam answered.

  He stuffed the rag in Susan’s mouth and wrapped several layers of the tape around the woman’s head to secure the cloth.

  “What are you doing, man?” Milton asked frantically.

  Adam replied, “If you’re going to be a wise guy, it’ll cost your sister.” He picked up a pillow from the couch, held it over Susan’s shoulder, drew his .45 1911 pistol and shot her in the shoulder.

  Her screams could still be heard through the wash cloth. Tears streamed down Susan’s face and blood gushed from her shoulder.

  “Ready to talk?” Adam quizzed.

  Susan looked longingly at her brother as she sobbed and gasped for air through her nose.

  Milton said, “Only one guy survived the attack. That was the report I heard. I promise, I don’t know anything else.”

  Adam asked, “Where did they take him?”

  Milton bargained, “If I tell you, will you let us go?”

  Adam pulled Michael off the couch and said, “Get on your knees.”

  Michael cried out, “Milton, just tell him. Come on, man. Tell him, please!”

  Milton said, “Okay! I’ll tell you! Can you just give my sister something to stop the bleeding?”

  Adam grabbed Michael by the shirt and dragged him into the bedroom.

  Michael begged, “You said that you would see what you could do. You said we were cooperative and that you would let us go!”

  Adam said, “I said I would see what I could do. I’m putting a bullet in your head to be merciful. This is not about vengeance for my brother’s death. This isn’t even about justice. My orders from Franklin were to burn you and Susan alive in the house. Do you know how painful that would be? And that’s nothing compared to what I had in mind for you. Trust me, I’m a creative person. I’ve thought about some pretty bad ways for you to die. But I want to prove to myself that I’m a better man than you. I’m going to give you two minutes to get right with your Creator. Use that time wisely.”

  Michael cried and pleaded with Adam to spare him, but two minutes later, Adam put the pistol to Michael’s head and pulled the trigger. A spattering of brain and blood was broadcast all over the floor.

  Adam dragged Michael’s lifeless body back into the living room to make his point to Milton. He could see the tears welling up in Justin’s eyes. “Justin, why don’t you go check on Gary. Make sure he’s alright.”

  Justin shook his head and walked out the door.

  Milton pleaded, “Please man, don’t kill me. I’ll tell you everything you need to know. The guy they caught, they took him to a work camp over in West Virginia. They use the prisoners to mine coal. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. The camp is right on the other side of the river, just north of Williamson, West Virginia.”

  Adam asked, “What do you know about an operation to take out a militia communications hub near Wood Creek Lake?”

  Milton said, “It’s Sunday, predawn. Probably around five in the morning.”

  Adam asked, “Who is doing it? Is it military or private contractors?”

  “DHS,” Milton answered.

  “Sit tight,” Adam walked outside.

  “Justin, you okay, buddy?” Adam put his hand on his shoulder.

  “Yeah.” Justin was still visually choked up.

  “I have to try to get my cousin back, bud. I hope you understand,” Adam said.

  “I know, I thought I was ready for all of this.” Justin wiped his cheek with his hand.

  “Nobody was ready for all of this. It ain’t normal. Nothing about war is normal or good or fun,” Adam explained. “We do what we have to do and hope we can still live with ourselves after the fact. Let’s go find Gary. We need to figure out where we go from here.”

  Justin nodded and the two walked up the hill to find Gary.

  “I think I know where Matt might be,” Adam said. “The problem is, if this guy doesn’t come back to base tonight, his commanding officer is going to wonder what happened to him. If we keep his sister and try to send him back in as a mole, we risk him ratting us out anyway. She turned on him in a second. My guess is that this ain’t the tightest family.”

  Gary said, “Maybe his commanding officer will just assume he ran off with the gold coins. Didn’t this guy use to be a junkie?”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Adam said. “There are no good options here. Susan isn’t going to last long anyway unless we get her patched up. Franklin’s orders were to kill Michael and Susan and interrogate Milton. I think we’ve got all we’re going to get out of him, so we should just get rid of him, too. Gary, can you fill up that bug spray container with gas and come inside and start dousing everything down? I figured the sprayer would let us use the least amount of fuel to burn the house down. Make sure you get Michael’s keys to his truck.
It’s an old beater, but it might come in handy for parts. Milton’s old Camaro is a stick. Think you can drive that back if Gary drives Michael’s truck back, Justin?”

  “Yeah, I can drive a stick,” Justin said.

  “Okay, let’s finish up and get home,” Adam walked back down to the house; Justin and Gary followed him. Gary retrieved the gas and the sprayer from the bed of the truck. Justin walked back in the house, picked up Milton’s pistol, keys, coins and other belongings and went outside to wait.

  When Adam walked in, Milton said, “Susan is unconscious. She needs blood.”

  “She’ll be fine,” Adam said. “Get down on your knees and face the wall. Do you want to take a second to get right with God?”

  Milton pleaded, “Come on man, I helped you out.”

  “And I appreciate it,” Adam replied. “I’m not going to torture you or burn you alive, but the reality is that my unit was completely wiped out in the raid you helped to facilitate. I have to take care of my brother’s widow and resources are tight. We simply don’t have the man power or the resources to keep prisoners. Thanks to you, that is. You have no one to blame but yourself. Take a minute to pray. I’ll be right back.”

  Adam walked into the kitchen. He looked at the bottle of whiskey sitting where he left it the day before. When he came home from Iraq and Afghanistan a few years back, he turned to drugs and alcohol to cover up the guilt, pain and memories of the things he saw and did during his tour. All of those old feelings were coming back. He was using all of those old skills to extract information and fight yet another war. While he knew this was a just war because this one was truly in the defense of his country, the Constitution and even the safety of his own family, the bottle reminded him how quickly it could erase all of this unpleasantness. By the time he was back to the truck, he could be feeling just right. Adam picked up the bottle, opened the top and took a deep sniff. The fumes put the taste of the alcoholic spirit in his mouth. Adam thought past the initial feeling of relief that was promised by the bottle in his hand. He remembered how it had also allowed his pain and anger to erupt. How much pain and agony it had brought to his home. He recalled the fear in his children’s eyes. He considered the feeling he felt when Janice packed a bag for her and the girls and left him. Adam counted the cost of having his present discomfort erased against the absolute horror that it would heap upon his loving family.