Solar Storm: Homeward Bound

by Vincent Keith

  "But everyone seems so friendly," she said.

  "Country people are friendly, but they're also practical. They're used to doing things for themselves. They've lived much closer to our current reality than anyone who's never lived in the country. It's difficult dealing with people who always seem like they're just humoring the stupid hicks. We get… We got a lot of them at the Inn. There were days I just wanted to slap them in the back of the head.”

  “Are we like that?”

  “You and your mom? No. Well, I didn’t know you before, but I doubt it.”

  Lexi gathered up the dishes and headed back to Eli’s while Jack returned to work. About an hour later Aaron came by. They talked about the condition of the guns, about what else he might have.

  “Looks like I’ll be here for a few more weeks Aaron.”

  “Great, maybe we can have time to get the mortars working?”

  “I don’t know. If we had someone who knew how to work one and what to look for in the way of trouble spots…maybe. What about the ammo? What kind of shape is it in?”

  “It’s all Korean War surplus, and honestly, I’ve got no idea. The guy I bought it from said it was useable. But…”

  “Look, I have zero knowledge about explosives, and they’re too dangerous to screw with unless you have some idea of what you’re doing.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll have to ask around, maybe I can find someone.”

  “You can try. If you do find someone who knows their stuff, then we can look at getting one working.”

  “Okay, I’m off for home. It’s been a long day.”

  Jack looked at his watch, 9:40. “Damn, I guess I’ll head back to Eli’s. See you tomorrow.”

  Aaron left, and Jack locked up the shop. With almost no lights in the houses and no streetlights, it was dark, surprisingly dark. The Aurora had faded to a faint and distant glow. Eventually, it would seem natural, but Jack had spent almost no time in towns since the lights went out and he still expected to see lights everywhere. He walked down streets, which seemed both too dark and too quiet. With no traffic and no lights, people went to bed earlier. He turned the corner and headed down Eli’s street.

  “Well, well, well, looky what I got here.”

  The voice came from behind, and Jack turned. Something came out of the darkness and smashed into the side of Jack’s head. He stumbled to his knees.

  “Yeah that’s right asshole, you should be on your knees for this. After I kill you I’m gonna kill those fucking dogs, then I’m gonna kill that fucking Jackson.”

  The words sank in, and Jack realized who he was facing.

  “Well, Ray, I’ve got to say, I’m surprised you came back.”

  “Yeah, why’s that?”

  “Being the coward you are, I figured you’d be hiding behind daddy.”

  “Fuck you! You son of a bitch!” Ray’s foot lashed out. Jack leaned back and let the foot pass his face, then gave it a hard shove. Ray spun and lost his balance. Jack took the opportunity to get back on his feet. “You don’t want to go down this road, Ray.”

  There was just enough light to see Ray’s outline, but Jack’s memory filled in the angry eyes and the sneer that tried to cover the fear. Ray was a bully, used to having help, and used to having his prey outnumbered.

  “You’re dead,” said Ray, reaching for the pistol he carried in a western gun belt.

  Jack saw the motion and felt a stab of fear. Ray wasn’t just making noise, he was serious. Jack reached for the 1911 on his hip while stepping off to his right.

  Ray wasn’t particularly quick, but he’d gotten a jump on the older man. Still, he realized his opponent wasn’t frozen with fear like they usually were. His sweaty hand slipped on the grip of his .357, and that cost him time. He saw Jack was going for his own gun. Ray hurried, yanking the pistol from the holster, cocking the hammer back and trying to fire all at once. The shot went low. Ray felt a surge of glee. He’d done it. He’d shot the son of a bitch. He tried to cock the hammer again, but the adrenalin was making his hands shake.

  Jack saw the flash and felt a sharp burning pain in his left leg. His gun completed its rise into the two-handed grip, just like practice. He found the front sight, the tritium dot glowing in the dark, and fired. Jack's first round had hit before Ray could cock the revolver for a second and probably fatal, round.

  Jack was still moving sideways trying to put space and hopefully something solid between himself and Ray. His leg buckled, but he got off two more shots before he hit the ground. Jack's elbow slammed into the asphalt and pain shot up through his shoulder. His arm collapsed under him, and his head took another blow as it slammed into the curb.

  Get up! Move! Jack rolled, dizzy from the blows to his skull. His leg was not cooperating, and his shoulder ached. He turned looking for Ray, his vision blurring for a moment. It was too dark to see, and Jack reached for his flashlight. Pain lanced through his leg, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his shoulder. He twisted to take the pressure off his right arm.

  Jack found a position where he could reach the flashlight with a manageable level of pain. He flicked on the light with his left hand and transferred it to his right. His gun, now in his left hand, tracked the light. Every little motion brought another wave of pain. Ray was sitting on the ground, leaning against the bumper of a car. His hands hung limply at his sides, the pistol… It was hard to focus, and the combination of pain, dizziness, and adrenaline was making it hard to hold the light steady. Jack scanned looking for the gun and spotted it under the car near the right front tire. Jack saw lights bouncing and heard voices.

  “Son of a Bitch! Rachael! Rachael! Jack’s been shot!” Eli yelled as he ran toward Jack. He stepped around the truck and spotted Ray. He kept his gun trained on the boy, not sure if he was alive or dead. Jack moaned.

  Anger flooded through Eli. He was about to shoot Ray just to be sure when he noticed the blood, a large patch on his chest and another over his left eye. Eli kicked the body, and Ray rolled sideways and fell face down. Eli saw that the back of the boy’s head was a mess.

  “Fuck!” Eli holstered his gun and spun to Jack and checked for bleeding. It took only a second to see the leg wound soaking his pants in blood. Eli fell to his knees yelling for Rachael. He clamped his hands over the wound applying as much pressure as he could. Jack groaned.

  “Stay with me, buddy! Stay with me.”

  Jack gasped, “Damn that hurts.”

  “Eli, what is it? What’s wrong?” Rachael was heading his way at a dead run in the dark.

  “Jack’s been shot. Leg wound. I’ve got pressure on it.”

  “Oh, God. No! Jack!” Rachael skidded to a stop. She caught her balance on the rear fender of a car as her feet threatened to go out from under her. She knelt next to Jack and checked vitals, “Keep the pressure on.”

  “Mom!”

  “Lexi, get Jack’s first aid kit, now, hurry!”

  Lexi ran back to the house, collided with the doorframe and bounced into the house. She skidded into one more doorway, collecting a few more bruises before she found the medkit. Lexi returned a moment later with a small black bag.

  "Here Mom," said Lexi as she held out the kit already unzipped.

  Rachael rolled the bag open. “Lexi hold the flashlight. I need light.”

  Eli moved, to grab his light.

  “Eli No! Keep the pressure on.” She took Jack’s flashlight and handed it to Lexi.

  Rachael grabbed the scissors and snipped through the pant leg creating a small hole, and she used that to slip the scissors in and cut through the pants. Getting a good grip on the cloth, she told Eli to let up. She slid the cut-off pant leg down exposing the wound. It was bleeding, but there was no blood spurting.

  “Eli, get his leg up. Lexi, stand behind Eli with the light I need to see if the bullet came out.”

  She could feel the exit wound, confirming the bullet had passed through. With the leg elevated and the light aimed right at it, she cou
ld clearly see the torn flesh, the hole not much larger than the entry wound.

  “It went through. It’s bleeding, but it didn’t nick the artery. I’m not positive about the bone, but it doesn’t feel broken.” She was busy removing the packaging from an Israeli trauma bandage. Rachael got it in place adding a second roll of gauze to pad the exit wound and cinched it down. She checked the popliteal pulse on the back side of Jack’s knee. She’d gotten enough pressure to slow or perhaps stop the bleeding without cutting off the flow to the rest of the leg.

  “Okay, we need to get him inside. He’s lost blood, but not enough to be dangerous. I need to irrigate and make sure there’s no material in the wound channel.”

  “Lexi, hold the light out front, I don’t want to drop him.”

  “Just help me up, and please, for God’s sake, don’t bump the leg.”

  As they lifted him, Jack grunted with pain. “Stop, stop! Oh damn.”

  They lowered him back to a seated position.

  “My shoulder, something’s wrong with my shoulder.”

  Rachael unbuttoned Jack's shirt. “Can you sit forward, I don’t want to cut off your coat and shirt if we don’t have to.”

  “Just…give me a second.”

  They struggled with the heavy coat, working it off his shoulders bit by bit. Rachael gently probed with her fingers while Lexi provided light.

  “How in the world did you do that?”

  “Do what? Ouch! Hey, take it easy.”

  “You’ve got a minor anterior dislocation of the humerus… um, you’ve dislocated your shoulder.”

  “Oh great. Probably when I landed on my elbow.”

  “Sorry babe, this is going to hurt, but the sooner I get it back in place, the better.” Rachael paused considering his shoulder. “I’d be a lot happier if there were some way to get an X-Ray...okay, Eli put your right hand there, and the left just under the armpit. Don’t let him move.” She took his arm and rotated, feeling the joint slip back into position. Jack grunted in pain again.

  It took two of them to get him on his feet, then Eli supported his left side as they headed back to the house.

  “Oh bloody hell, this just isn’t my night.” He was dizzy and weak. His head was pounding, his shoulder was throbbing, and every step sent shooting pains through his leg.

  Jack hobbled, most of his weight on Eli's shoulder. The peaks of pain were about the same, but the moments of relief were getting fewer. By the time they got to Eli's house, the pain was alternating between bad and worse. Right up to the point when Eli helped him up onto the table and stressed the damaged leg muscle. His vision blurred again, and he passed out.

  27

  WAKING UP

  Jack woke to a warm sunny room, his mouth dry and his head throbbing. He winced and covered his eyes.

  “Sorry honey,” Rachael rose and worked the cord to close the blinds.

  The light dimmed, and Jack opened his eyes again. He tried to speak, but his tongue was too dry.

  “Hold on, this is going to hurt.” She pulled him up and stuffed two pillows behind him, then reached for a glass with a straw in it. “Just sip it, don’t gulp.”

  Jack took a sip and swished it around, the moisture bringing relief to at least one area. He took another sip and licked his parched lips. Another, then Rachael pulled the glass way. “Give it a minute.”

  Jack let his head fall back against the pillow.

  “Everything hurts,” he whispered.

  “Yeah I know, you’ve got bruises on both sides of your head. Your elbow is bruised and swollen, and you dislocated your shoulder. Then there’s the hole in your leg.”

  “Hmm, yeah, sounds about right.” His voice was a bit stronger.

  “I’ve got some pain meds for you. I’m not sure how much blood you’ve lost, but your heart rate is good. So is your blood pressure, all things considered.”

  “Ray?”

  “Dead.”

  “Wasn’t sure if I hit him or not.”

  “According to Eli, two in the chest and one in the head. I think his comment was: Damn fine shooting.”

  “Shit.”

  “Jack, you’re alive. He tried to kill you and lost, it’s not your fault.”

  “Yeah…I guess I should have realized something was wrong when he showed up with no backup. Apparently, he wasn’t so much a bully as maybe a sociopath with a need to show off.”

  “Never mind that. You’ll be fine, but it’s going to take weeks. That bullet did a lot of damage to the muscle.”

  Jack moved his leg and immediately regretted it.

  “I seem to recall you and Eli working on it, but it’s kind of fuzzy.”

  “Yes, we had to keep you awake. I’m fairly sure the concussion is minor, but you’ll have a headache for a while. How’s the shoulder?”

  “I’m afraid to move it.”

  She smiled. “Good. It’ll heal better if you leave it alone.”

  IT TOOK a couple of days for the pills to catch up with the pain, but by the third day, Jack was comfortable as long as he didn't move. He tried reading, but it caused his headache to return.

  “You, my darling, are a lousy patient.”

  “Darling?”

  “Ah…” Rachael flushed. “Jack, I…”

  “Yeah, me too. Look, I’m not sure how much of what I feel is us, and how much is the situation but I’m not in a rush, are you?”

  “No. No, I’m not, although Lexi might be.”

  “Lexi?”

  “She seems to think it’s obvious, and we should get on with it.”

  “Kids.” Jack smiled.

  “Yeah.”

  “How about we admit that we like each other, and there’s a possible future? Then we can see how it goes.”

  "Okay, I like you, and I think there's a future."

  “Good, now shut up and feed me before I get cranky.”

  “Jerk.”

  “Usually.”

  Rachael leaned over and kissed him. She started to pull away, and Jack grabbed her and pulled her back. When he let go, she patted his head. “You need to brush your teeth. Later, I guess…” She left to fix lunch.

  Lexi poked her head in. “About time.”

  “Scamp! Go get the news from Art. I hate lying here with nothing to do.”

  Jack woke again some hours later, thirsty and hungry. A quick glance around located the food, and water. Now if I can just reach it, he thought. He reached with his left hand, rolling slightly. The pain in his leg stopped him. He considered the situation for a minute. Crap.

  “Anyone home?” Jack croaked.

  Aaron appeared in the door. “Hey, Jack.”

  “Hi, what’s the word?”

  “We finished disassembling the Tommy’s. There are a couple 1911s you should look at, but we all think they’re okay.”

  “You bring them?”

  “I did, I’ll grab them.”

  “Hang on, can you hand me the tray? I’m parched and starving.”

  “Sure man.” Aaron helped him sit up and set the tray on the bed.

  “Thanks.” Jack took a long sip of the water. He looked at the huge mug of tomato soup. He set the spoon aside and lifted the mug carefully with his left hand. When he set it back on the tray, it was half empty. "Damn that's good."

  “Everything okay?” asked Aaron.

  “The soup could be hotter, but it’ll work.”

  “Want me to heat it up?”

  “No, but if there’s more, you could maybe heat that up.”

  “Good, I’ll be right back,” said Aaron.

  After Jack had finished eating, Aaron took the dishes to the kitchen while Jack used the tray as a work area to lay out the stripped weapon. He scrutinized each piece. After a few minutes of struggling with only his left hand, he guided Aaron though the process of reassembling the pistol.

  “I’ve never taken one of these completely apart before, just enough to clean it.”

  “The only fiddly bit is getting the sear and dis
connect back into the frame.” Jack set the slide assembly aside and gently adjusted his position. “Everything looks nearly new, just a bit of rust. Did you bring an empty case?”

  “I can get one.”

  “Nah, just grab a round from one of my magazines. I want to check something.”

  Jack checked the extractor tensions, using the live round. “Yeah, these are fine.”

  “Are they all like this one?”

  “Pretty much. I was kinda worried about the rust, but Jim said it was just cosmetic.”

  “It is. Still, we don’t want to leave it like that.”

  He handed the assembled slide to Aaron who proved his familiarity with the weapon by quickly assembling the barrel, slide, and frame. Jack considered options for a few minutes while he sipped cool water through a straw.

  “Okay. Check the sporting goods shop and see if you can find any cold bluing solution. I’d take some steel wool to them, even a fine sand paper. Nothing under 400 grit, but let’s get that surface rust off. Oh, see if you can find some Naval Jelly at the hardware store. It’s a pinkish gel you paint or spray on.”

  “I’m pretty sure I have a few bottles of that stuff… although I can’t remember why I got it.”

  “Probably someone recommended it as a treatment for rust. So, wet the rusted parts down with the jelly and start scrubbing them with the steel wool. I find it works best if you mist everything with water to keep it wet. Don’t let the jelly dry while you’re working.”

  “What does it do?”

  “The steel wool will remove most of the rust, the phosphoric acid in the jelly will actually change the structure of the remaining rust to something stable. If I remember correctly, it converts the rust to ferric oxide…iron oxide? Well, whichever. When you’re done wash everything off in soapy water, rinse it and dry it right away. Warm up the finished parts, somewhere around seventy is good. If you manage to find the cold bluing solution, just follow the directions. Otherwise, just spray-paint the exteriors—if you can find it, use some high temp engine paint. Not the best, but it’s what we can manage.”

  Aaron finished scribbling his notes then sat watching Jack play with the round he’d used to check the extractors with.