The Resolution

by Steven Bird

  “That’s what I was just thinking. Pastor Wallace seems to have his finger on the pulse of the area. That and we could get an update on Sabrina and the Gibbs family. They may have seen or heard of Ed and Nate passing through, too.”

  “Exactly.”

  ~~~~

  As the two men saw that they were approaching the Wolf Creek Bridge, which they needed to take to cross the French Broad River, Jason slowed his horse and said, “Looks like the sun is coming up. Do you want to press on through in the daylight, or wait until nightfall?”

  “The anxious side of me just wants to gallop on home as fast as I can, but the side of me that keeps getting shot at wants to play it safe. Let’s bed down in the woods and get some sleep. With just the horses, we can get off in the brush and bed down out of sight,” replied Evan as he pointed to the brush and trees on the south side of the road. “If we are up on the hill a bit, whoever is on watch can keep an eye on the bridge during the day as well. Any traffic coming through this area needs to use that bridge. It will also help us spot any trolls.”

  “I’m glad you always agree with what I’m thinking. That sure saves a lot of arguing.”

  Evan chuckled. “Ha. Yeah, well, being on the same page is probably what’s kept us alive this long. But the way I see it, it’s you who’s agreeing with me.”

  Jason nudged his horse to get him moving and said, “Whatever makes you feel better about yourself.” He rode off into the trees, ducking down to clear the low-hanging branches. Evan laughed and followed closely behind.

  As the terrain got a little too steep for Jason and Evan’s comfort level, they dismounted and led their horses through the thick brush on the side of the hill to a reasonably level spot that overlooked the bridge and the river.

  “This will do,” Jason said, as he tied his horse’s reins to a tree, freeing him up to get a better look around.

  Following suit, Evan hiked up the hill to get a bird’s-eye view of the situation while Jason began to set up camp. Wishing he had binoculars, Evan squinted to see as far as he could in the faint light of the early morning as the sun began to rise.

  Rejoining Jason down at the camp, he said, “It looks like there are a few houses on this side of the hill, a little closer to the bridge. There’s also the railroad tracks that follow the riverbank along the south side of the river. I almost forgot those tracks were there; when we came through here on our way to Hot Springs, it was so dark and rainy that it was hard to see anything that wasn’t right in front of the tractor.”

  Jason looked through the trees at the road below and said, “I’ll keep an eye on it while on watch. I’ll take the first shift. You get some rest, old man.”

  “You do realize I’m only one year older than you, right?”

  “Yeah, but you slow me down like it’s ten.”

  “I’ll remember that the next time I have to save your ass,” Evan said while adjusting his hat. “Before I sack out, though, I’m gonna slip down to the river and get some water for the horses. Just cover me from here.”

  “Cover you? There isn’t much covering I can do from here using an AK with iron sights, but I guess when you hear the random gunshots, you’ll know to look out. The most you can say I’m doing from up here with this thing is guarding the horses.”

  “That’s true. I’m gonna miss having you as overwatch with your Remy.”

  “Don’t remind me… I miss her already.”

  “I’ll make sure I tell Sarah which one of the loves of your life you thought about while we were gone,” Evan said with a crooked smile as he slipped off into the woods, heading down the hill toward the road.

  As Evan worked his way back down the hill with his injured feet sliding inside of his slightly oversized boots, he thought, I really should have sent him to get the water.

  Reaching the road, Evan paused to look and listen. With the morning mist rising off the river in the distance, it was almost silent. Appearing safe, Evan slipped across the road and into the brush on the other side, which separated U.S. Highway 70 from the railroad tracks. As he stepped onto the tracks, he began to look around for something to carry water back up to the horses. Thank God for litterbugs, he thought as he saw a plastic milk jug in the brush on the riverbank. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.

  Holding the jug underwater while the air bubbles were forced out the top by the incoming water, the gulp, gulp, gulp sound almost mesmerized him into not noticing the sound of approaching vehicles. Crap! he thought as he quickly pulled the jug from the water and placed it in the bushes. He crept up to the edge of the tracks, remaining exposed in the brush; to his horror, he saw three military vehicles approaching. As they neared the bridge, he could see an MRAP in the lead with two Humvees following closely behind. Appearing to have once been U.S. military equipment, they now wore the letters UN on the sides.

  Jason watched in horror from above, not knowing Evan’s exact proximity to the traffic. Clutching his AK-74M, he felt helpless, as the traffic was at the edge of the minuscule 5.45x39’s effective range. This would make any sort of fire from his position a spray-and-pray evolution rather than being any sort of precise shooting. Providing a distraction to allow Evan an opportunity to fight back or escape was the most he could hope to accomplish with what he had.

  Evan remained perfectly still as the three-vehicle convoy rolled on by, pausing just before the bridge for one of the soldiers to make a cursory inspection before proceeding. Once the threat was out of sight, Evan grabbed his jug of water and slipped back across the road and up the hillside to Jason’s position.

  When he arrived back at camp, Jason said, “Holy shit, man. That was close.”

  “You’re telling me! I’ve had enough of those guys lately. That’s the last thing I wanted to see heading in the direction of home.”

  “With only three vehicles, it’s obviously just a patrol of some sort, but still… that’s not good,” Jason replied, beginning to pace back and forth with frustration.

  “With them out on the roads, traveling in broad daylight is definitely out of the question,” Evan added. “And to that same point, I think Highway 70 is out of the question as well. Those railroad tracks lead all the way into Del Rio, right?”

  Pulling a map given to him by the militia from his pocket, Jason said, “Yep, it’s off the beaten path in some places, but follows right alongside Fugate Road a large part of the way.”

  “That’s still a less-traveled route than Highway 70. Let’s take the tracks to Fugate Road, and then just take Fugate Road from there.”

  “Roger Roger!” replied Jason sharply. “Now get your old ass some sleep. I have a feeling once we get going again, things could get rather busy in a hurry. We’ll head out again at sunset. I’ll wake you when it’s your turn to stand watch.”

  Chapter Four: Friend or Foe

  Shoved violently into a small ten-foot by twenty-foot room, Ed and Nate fell to the floor with the door slamming behind them. Ed looked around to see a few old GSA (Government Services Administration) workplace posters as well as a poster produced by the state of Georgia with information on workers’ rights, the minimum wage, and equal opportunity. There were marks left on the tile floor from what appeared to be vending machines directly in front of a series of power outlets.

  “I can’t believe those bastards took my leg!” Nate shouted as soon as their captors were outside of the room. Then he and Ed helped each other back to their feet.

  “I guess they figure you’re easier to deal with this way,” Ed replied as he visually scanned the walls. “Looks like an old break room.”

  “I guess we’re on break, then,” replied Nate with sarcasm in his voice.

  Ed continued, “Based on the amount of time we were airborne, the average speed of a turbine-powered helicopter such as a Hind, the general direction we seemed to be heading, and the sounds we heard outside, I’ll betcha we’re in Atlanta—on the airport grounds somewhere.”

  “That makes a lot of sense, consi
dering all of the reports we’ve heard of them using Hartsfield-Jackson as a staging area.”

  Looking around the room for items they could use, Ed noted the emptiness of the space. “They didn’t leave us much to work with.”

  “I’m sure that was part of the plan. Anything not nailed down can be used as a weapon,” Nate said, shifting his weight and letting go of Ed’s shoulder. He hopped on his leg over to the wall, placed his hand against it, and slid himself down to the floor to sit. Leaning back against the wall, he said, “Now we wait, I guess.”

  “But for what? That’s what concerns me,” replied Ed.

  “I hope Evan is okay. That bastard hit him pretty dang hard with that rifle.”

  “Yeah, he dropped like a ragdoll. I wonder where they are.”

  “There wasn’t a second helicopter, just Humvees, so I doubt they brought them this far. I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “Me neither,” said Ed as he stood and walked over to the door, holding his ear to the wood.

  “What’s up?” asked Nate.

  Ed replied silently, placing his finger to his lips to ask for Nate’s silence. After a moment, he said, “Someone’s coming.”

  Hurrying back over to Nate, he sat down next to him as the door opened and three men entered the room. Two of the men wore the UN Peacekeeper military uniforms, while the third wore pleated gray slacks and a tucked in, button-up white dress shirt.

  “Hello, gentlemen,” the man said with a perfect American accent. “I’m sorry about all of this, but considering the hostile insurgent activity we’ve experienced, we can’t take any chances. I’m sure you two will check out just fine, but we’ve got strict protocol to follow.”

  “Who’s we?” asked Ed. “And what part of your protocol required your friends here to confiscate my friend’s prosthetic leg?”

  The man in civilian clothes looked at the two soldiers inquisitively and replied, “I’ll check on that for you. I’m not quite sure why that happened, but I’ll get to the bottom of it. Oh, by the way, my name is Chad Robbins. I’m with the Department of Homeland Security. I’m here to assist our friends from the United Nations as they help us work through these trying times.”

  “They haven’t been our ‘friends’ from what I’ve seen. They’re more like an occupying force. I mean look at us, we are law-abiding U.S. citizens just struggling to survive in this messed up world, and here we sit in orange jumpsuits, being held by a foreign military force. What the hell kind of help is that?” said Ed, becoming more irritated by the moment. “And where the hell are we, anyway?”

  Looking Ed squarely in the eye, the man said, “It is my understanding that you may be involved with a right-wing radical insurgent movement that’s threatening the stability of the nation and its recovery efforts. Until we get that straightened out, you're not really in the position of being considered a law-abiding citizen. As for our location, we are safely in the hands of the United Nations at a secure location. That’s all you need to know for now. More will come eventually, but we need more from you, as well.”

  “That’s all a bunch of bull!” Ed snapped. “My friends and I were trying to find other people in the area who may want to establish some sort of trade and barter system, when we were ambushed and taken prisoner by your blue-helmet-wearing thug friends. Unless you want to try and squeeze us for sales tax or some bullshit interstate commerce thing, we haven’t done a damn thing wrong. And how do you justify detaining us against our will without even telling us where we are?”

  “Like I said, details will be disclosed as the situation allows. We have very strict protocols here that we must follow. Back to your involvement with the insurgency… if you are not, then how do you explain the stolen weapons?”

  Pausing briefly, remembering the weapons taken from the gang that took Sabrina and her family, Ed replied, “We recovered those for you from some villainous scumbags. We don’t know where they got them. All we know is they were using them against innocent people and we stopped them, as any good citizen should. I’m starting to feel like we need to see a lawyer to protect our constitutional rights.”

  “Rights? Under the Insurrection Act contained in Title 10 U.S.C. 331-335, we are acting entirely within our authority, granted to us by the president and by law.”

  “That’s bull. There is no insurgency, just Americans trying to hold on to what is left of their own country.”

  “It’s a new world, my friend. You are what we say you are. Now, I’ll give you two a little time to think about how you want to proceed. You can cooperate with our investigation or face indefinite detention until some point in the future, when you can be prosecuted formally. The path you take from here is your choice.” Turning to leave, Mr. Robbins stopped just short of the door, turned back to Ed and Nate, and said, “We’ll be seeing you soon. Think about what I said and proceed carefully.”

  The two soldiers followed Mr. Robbins out the door, slamming and locking it from the outside behind them.

  “What in the hell is happening here?” asked Nate, confused at how their lives had taken such a turn.

  “I don’t know,” Ed said softly, in case there were listening devices in the room. “But whatever they do, they aren’t just going to let us go for cooperating. And on top of that, we don’t even have anything to cooperate with. We told them the truth already.”

  Nate whispered, “Whatever we do or say, we can’t give anything away about where our homes are. We don’t want them paying a visit to our families.”

  Ed nodded in reply and leaned back against the wall. “We are from Knoxville. We stayed in a tent city near Newport with other refugees before moving on,” he said with a whisper.

  Nate nodded. “I doubt that will match up with what Evan and Jason said if they were interrogated, but we will try.”

  “We barely knew those guys. We were hitchhikers.”

  “Roger that.”

  “Speaking of them, I just hope they are okay. I hope that even if we don’t make it back, they do. It was stupid for so many of us to go on a supply run and leave the homesteads shorthanded. We should have stayed put and simply done without.”

  “Hindsight is twenty-twenty, my friend. We thought we were doing the right thing at the time. You’re damned if you take action and damned if you don’t. All we can do now is keep up the fight for home.”

  “Amen, brother. Amen.”

  Chapter Five: Fugate Road

  Feeling something bump his foot, Evan was startled awake; he grabbed his rifle lying next to him.

  “Whoa… throttle back, man. It’s just me. It’s your turn to stand watch,” Jason said, holding his hands in the air in jest.

  Regaining a grasp of his surroundings, Evan said, “Sorry, man. My nerves are getting shot. A man can act as calm and collected as he wants on the outside, but if this stuff doesn’t get to him on the inside after a while, something is wrong.”

  “Yeah, this world is only fitting for a psychopath or a scoundrel,” replied Jason. “I feel the same way. Every time I hear so much as a twig snap, I flinch and expect all hell to break loose.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Four o’clock. Just wake me when the sun goes down.”

  “Damn, man, you should have got me up to relieve you sooner.”

  “Nah, man; you were sleeping well. Besides, I probably can’t sleep, anyway. I can’t stop worrying about Charlie and Jimmy, Ed and Nate, and the folks back home. We don’t know anything about anyone but ourselves at this point, and that’s not okay.”

  Standing to stretch, Evan yawned and said, “Well, give it a try at least. I’ll wake you at sunset if nothing comes up between now and then.”

  Jason begrudgingly complied as Evan used a Sterno can and a stainless camping mug to warm a cup of instant coffee given to them by the Blue Ridge Militia. Thank you, Quentin, he thought as he smelled the aroma of the coffee as it began to heat.

  The next few hours were uneventful, yet time felt as if it stood still;
like Jason, Evan was anxious to get home. He felt responsible for whatever situations their friends and family might be in, as he was the one who led them away on the supply run to Hot Springs. He was haunted by the unknown, fearing the worst, but hoping for the best. If nothing else, at least we were able to help Sabrina and the Gibbs family. But at what cost? He asked himself. Please, God. Let it be worth it. Let everyone be okay. Please let our families and friends be safe.

  As a tear rolled down his cheek, Evan’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an ATV approaching at a rapid pace. Looking toward the direction of the sound, he saw a four-wheel drive utility ATV barreling down the railroad tracks, heading away from Del Rio. Clenching his AK74, he expected a pursuer to appear at any moment.

  The rider was clearly throwing caution to the wind as he blasted down the tracks at full speed. Hearing rustling behind him, Evan turned to see Jason joining him.

  “What’s going on?” Jason asked.

  “Not sure yet. Just a man on a quad in a hurry to get somewhere. He looked like he was coming from Del Rio. He was on the tracks going as fast as he could with no concerns of stealth.”

  “A lookout, perhaps, on his own personal Paul Revere ride?”

  “Hmmm, could be. Off to warn the Blue Ridge Militia about the patrol into Del Rio, maybe?”

  “Let’s hope that’s all it is…”

  After a few moments of silence passed with no further activity, Jason said, “Damn, it’s only six-thirty?”

  “Yep. Let’s get something to eat, saddle up the horses, then work our way back down to the tracks. It’ll be getting dark by then. Then we’ll get on the move.”

  “Roger that,” Jason replied. “What’s for dinner?”

  “I’ve got dibs on the spaghetti with meat sauce MRE.”

  “You bastard. I wanted that one.”

  “Oh, you can have it then. It really doesn’t matter to me. I was just kiddin’ around,” Evan said, as he chuckled at Jason.