“So, if that tree was a man, he’d be dead?”
“Judging from the bark you blasted off it, yeah, he’d be dead. You ready to fire a rocket now?”
It took a bit longer before she was ready to launch the LAWS. She paid attention as he demonstrated the several steps it took to extend the tube and arm the weapon. He had her target the same tree. She took her time aiming and fired the weapon. When the smoke cleared, a two-foot high stump was jutting from the ground.
“Damn girl, you’re a natural. Not one soldier in ten would have hit that tree the first time he fired a LAWS.”
Beth smiled her appreciation. “I like these weapons. You don’t have to be close to use them. We need to get moving, huh?”
“Let’s eat first,” Jake suggested. “This will be our last chance until we get to Colquitt.”
A few miles past the town of Newton, they came to where the roadblock had been. Jake stopped the transport and Beth joined him in the cab. They stared with disbelief at the bloated corpses still lying where they had died.
“If we needed an example of the trash we’re dealing with, this would be it,” Jake said in disgust.”
“Saint’s letting them rot where they are,” Beth said, matching his tone. “I reckon even his own people don’t mean much to him. Let’s go,” she implored. “You ready for me to drive again?”
The miles flowed as they raced towards their destination, stopping twice more to change positions. It was a toss-up as to which was worse, driving and being under constant stress, or being battered about in the gun turret. They entered the town of Colquitt about two hours before sunset. As Beth had told him, back when he first met the three, fire had claimed most of the stores and buildings, leaving only a few structures near the center of town still standing.
They spent ten wary minutes walking and stretching, working the kinks out while at the same time looking for any signs of people. Beth suggested they should eat again before they went to war, and prepared two of the self-heating MREs. They used the tailgate of an abandoned pickup as a place to eat. As they ate, Jake laid out his plan for the attack.
“We’re about to attack a very large group. The fellow driving the cycle said Saint has over three hundred people in his crew. They’re not all soldiers. Over half of them will be support staff, cooks, laborers, and such. He probably has a large number of women and children in his group, and knowing him, some slaves. Still, I expect he’ll have at least a hundred men at arms.”
“That’s a lot of men,” Beth responded with concern.
“Yes it is. We’ll be out numbered fifty-to-one. All we have going for us is the element of surprise. Our mission isn’t specifically to kill John Saint, although that’s not to say we won’t. The trouble is, even if we kill a lot of people tonight, we won’t know if we get Saint, because we wouldn’t know him if we saw him.”
“Then what are we going to do?” Beth asked.
“We’re going to ride into the Walmart parking lot, and kill as many targets of opportunity as we can, and depend on the armor to protect us. Our main targets will be his vehicles. A group as large as his has to have many transport vehicles to move from place to place. If we destroy his trucks, it will take him a long time to replace them. The vehicles around Bainbridge have been sitting so long it’ll take days, maybe weeks to get them running. It could take a month or longer for him to re-mobilize. That will give us time to get to safety and hopefully enough time for the other people to begin arriving at Haven.”
“So we’re going to ride in and shoot everything we see and ride out. That’s your plan?”
“Not much of a plan, is it?”
“No, I like it. Remember when you said that even with a MaxxPro you’re not a Mad Max. Would this be something he’d do?”
“Yes it would,” Jake, said, smiling, “only tonight it’s going to be the Mad Marketts.”
“When are we leaving?”
“I want to hit them after they’re sound asleep. Maybe around two or three … we’ll head out at midnight.”
They finished eating. As they stood to return to the truck, they heard a voice shout at them, “You over there, what’s your name?”
“FR!” Jake exclaimed, giving the code he had taught her and her siblings for 'fall and roll’. Beth was on the ground and rolling behind an abandoned car almost before the signal left his mouth. Jake rolled straight ahead, under their armored vehicle, springing to his feet to open the side door. In seconds, he was in the turret manning the machine gun.
“Who’s asking?” Jake shouted back in the direction the voice came from.”
“Damn, you two are fast... Ain’t no need to be scared, I could have done shot you if that’s what I intended,” the man shouted. “Are you Markett?”
“I’m Markett.”
“I'm coming out. Don't be shooting at me.” A young man with a rifle stepped from the doorway of a building about a half block away and warily approached. Jake guessed him to be about twenty years old. He stopped fifteen feet away, holding his rifle, not pointed at them, but in such a manner, a slight shift of his hands and it would be.
“You know John Saint’s gunning for you?”
“I’ve heard words to that effect,” Jake replied. “Who are you?”
“Bishop’s my name. Me and a few others decided we’d skip out while Saint’s all fired up to hunt you down. We’re hoping he’ll be too busy with that to let a few people taking off slow him down.”
“You’re deserting him.”
“You got that right. We’ve had a bellyful of him. When we saw this big truck roll into town, we figured it was you, even if it ain’t half as big as James claimed it was.”
“That would be James Baker,” Jake supplied, “How’s he doing?”
“Not good. Saint killed him for being a traitor. Had a morning formation to explain you wouldn’t have left him alive otherwise. They carried him out in a chair, and his man Ross shot him in the head in front of us. James wasn’t perfect, but killing him like that was plain lowdown. I think the real reason Saint had him killed was he was going ta die anyways. James was in pain, and he kept everybody awake screaming at night. Infection set in, and his leg swelled big as a tree stump.”
“I can see you have some grievances against Saint. Why don’t you call you friends over and we’ll talk a bit? Jake suggested.
“I will, if you don’t mind me checking inside your truck first, just in case there’s somebody else with you.”
“I'll come out and you can take a look. Just lean in and look... Beth, shoot him if he tries to go all the way in.”
“Hell, I don't want to look that bad. If you tell me there ain't nobody else in there I'll take your word for it.”
“There is no one else with us,” Jake told him.
“I can call the folks I'm with over to here if you’re scared, but we’d be more comfortable where they are,” Bishop stated. “We holed up in the library waiting till dark.”
“Where are you headed to?” Beth asked.
Bishop hesitated for a moment as if trying to decide whether to answer her. Instead, he addressed a question to Jake.
“Who’s this girl you got with you, Markett?”
Jake recognized the unspoken racial undertones of the question and framed his answer carefully.
“I know you just recently left Saints group. I would hope you left because you disagreed with his fundamental beliefs and criminality, and not only because you didn’t like his rules. If you didn’t leave because of his inhumanity to other people, and I include racism with that, then I suggest you rejoin your people and get the hell out of my face. To answer your question, that girl is a beautiful woman, and sir, that beautiful woman is my wife.”
Bishop flinched at the vehement tone of Jake’s reply.
“Whoa, there hoss, don’t blow a gasket.” He turned to face Beth. “I’m sorry about not answering your question. We thought to head over to Mobile, down on the Gulf. We’d rather go east towards the coast,
but that’s the direction Saint’s headed in the morning.
“Do you want me to call my folks over?” he asked, shifting his attention back to Jake. “If we go over there, you'll have to leave your guns by the door. We'll do the same.”
Jake replied, somewhat mollified by the apology. “Like you say, we’ll be more comfortable there. At least we’ll have a place to sit down.”
Two men in their mid-thirties, along with four women and five children, were grouped together just inside the doorway. They moved back to allow them to enter. The men kept their rifles aimed at Jake.
“You all can rest easy, ain’t nobody fixin’ to kill anybody,” Bishop said in response to Jake's pointed look. “I told them we'd all put our rifles and guns by the door. Lamar, you and Rob can help me move a couple tables beside each other so’s we can all sit together.” There was a moment of shuffling as they arranged tables and the adults moved chairs. The children sat at another table looking at books.
“Mom, I put my foot in it again,” Bishop said, addressing a time worn middle-aged woman. “It didn’t take me five minutes to insult Markett’s wife.”
“I guess it was wasted time with you this morning. I told you to watch that mouth of yours. Sometimes I wish you were still young enough to be whipped.”
“It’s okay Missus…?”
“Bishop,” she supplied.
“Missus Bishop,” Jake continued. “Your son didn’t mean any harm and he apologized as soon as he realized he needed to.”
“Maybe it wasn’t wasted time after all. He’s a good boy, but he’s been around the wrong sort of people for the last three years.” She paused. “So you’re the famous, Jake Markett, and this pretty black lady is your wife,” she said, chuckling. “John Saint would blow a gasket if he knew his worst enemy had a black woman for a wife. Almost makes me want to go back and tell him just to see his face.”
“That would be something to see,” Beth agreed, “but since you’ve already gotten away from him, I don’t think I’d go back. My name is Beth.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about that, Beth. Wild horses couldn’t drag me back there. I just pray we don’t run into the likes of his kind ever again.”
Jake broke in to make his position clear. “Missus Bishop, Billy, I have to tell you people, I kill cannibals whenever and however I can. We can have a talk and I hope to get some information from you. I’ll give you some rations from the truck in exchange, and we can go our separate ways from here and I promise not to kill all of you.”
“Just hold your horses there, Markett,” Billy said, "we ain’t fucking cannibals. All we ever were is workers.”
“What do you mean workers?” Jake asked.
“Means you didn’t eat human flesh and join the ranks of the Saints,” another of the men answered. “Not much higher up than the slaves. No liquor rights, no whore rights, nothing.”
“So not all of Saint’s men are cannibals. We thought they were,” Beth, said.
“All his soldiers are, and there are some others that eat the meat because they like it, and like to cozy up to Saint,” Missus Bishop supplied, “but most of the women, and quite a few of the men, back in the camp, refused to eat it. All of us are in that group.”
“That’s good to know.” Jake, replied.
Billy said, “It saves you from having to kill us. So far, all you’ve killed is people eaters. Saint don’t let none of us workers leave the camp. I’m wondering though, just how were planning you on killing us, seeing as how you left your pistols and rifles by the door?”
“Ever since we sat at this table, Beth and I have had our ankle pistols in our laps. Now we know you’re not cannibals we’ll put them back. The fellow you have hiding behind the checkout counter may as well join us too. That thin plywood won't stop a bullet.”
“Damn,” Billy said, “Come on out Will, he's right about that plywood. Put your rifle over by the door with the rest.”
A stout, short, older man came from behind the counter, put his rifle beside the door, and dragged a chair to the tables.
“How did you know I was back there?”
“I could hear your heart beating and I heard you breathing.”
“Damn,” Billy exclaimed again, as Jake and Beth briefly showed their pistols before lifting their legs to replace them in their holsters.
“What are you two doing here in Colquitt?” Will, asked.
“We had a little trouble up the road, and one of his men told us Saint was moving towards the east tomorrow. We figure to put a kink in his plans.”
“One of his men just up and told you,” Missus Bishop said, smiling. “Saint sent out a scouting crew early this morning. There was a bunch of them left in a couple trucks and a four wheeler, is that the trouble you ran into?”
“That’s the bunch,” Jake agreed.
Missus Bishop exclaimed joyfully. “You’re here, so I guess you took care of that problem. Tell me that redheaded son of a bitch won’t be coming back.”
“He won’t be coming back,” Beth replied. “None of them will. They’re dead.”
“Where’s the rest of your crew?” Will asked, pulling up another chair and sitting at the end of one table.
“Will, there isn’t any other crew, just me and Beth.”
“Just the two of you… shit…You do know Saint’s got an army there in Bainbridge?”
“Yes we do, and that makes me glad we met you. If you could tell us all you know about his camp, it would be a big help making our plans. We’re going to hit him late tonight while they’re sleeping.”
“He’ll have guards posted,” Billy Bishop stated.
“I expect that,” Jake replied. “Tell me everything else you know.”
CHAPTER 20
The telling took almost an hour. Because of Saint’s anger about the killing and burning of his men, and his growing frustration over not being able to capture the ones responsible, he had turned his base at the Walmart into a semi-permanent installation, erecting huge military tents to house his people.
Jake asked many questions about the position of Saint’s elements. Finally, Missus Bishop found a pencil and sheet of copy paper, and made a drawing of the parking lot.
After perusing the crude drawing, Jake said, “So, Saint’s main cadre, his officers, stay in these three tents lined in a row. This other bunch of tents is for his married soldiers and their children, and the eight big tents behind them are where the rest of his men sleep?”
“Except for the twenty or so men Saint keeps with him inside the Walmart as body guards,” Billy said.
“Right,” Jake continued. “The four tents angled off from the family tents are for the single women and the male workers, none of them cannibals?
“That’s the layout.”
“Good. Now here, kind of isolated from the main camp, are the two eighteen-wheel container trucks he uses as prisons to lock his slaves away at night. One houses about twenty men, and the other, maybe twenty five women.”
“Saint calls the woman’s truck his whore house on wheels,” Billy said, interrupting. “The trucks stink because he don’t let them keep them none too clean. Every Wednesday afternoon he selects the girls to service his officers, and has them stripped naked and hosed down so they don’t smell so bad.”
“Yeah, Wednesday is his party and gambling night,” Lamar said. “Saint likes things on a regular schedule.”
“You two need to hush your mouths about that and stop interrupting Mister Markett,” Missus Bennett said primly. “He’s trying to make plans, and he doesn’t need you two trash talking.”
Jake nodded his thanks to her. “You say he has road blocks composed of old cars at every approach to his camp. He has a few guards patrolling the camp at night. Saint and his bodyguards sleep inside the Walmart. Is this the complete picture?
“That’s it,” Will said ...“No. Wait. Behind the Walmart he’s got the bio-diesel rigs and his ethanol plant set up... puts them away from the camp because of the smell
. But like we told you, he’s got a lot of men.”
“You’re right about that, but I have to tell you, Saint may think he’s king of the world, but his military training must not have taken. His position is wide open to a surprise attack. Beth and I can roll in and do a lot of destruction in a very short period. I’ve been doing a bit of thinking while we’ve been going over this. Let me ask you, how did you manage to get here to Colquitt?”
“In a bus,” Billy answered, “Will’s one of Saints’ mechanics. He told the motor pool officer he had to take it out for a test drive. The rest of us snuck out early and he picked us up past the roadblock.”
“Will was a mechanic for Saint, now he’s free, same as the rest of you. I have a problem, and it’s a big one. As I said, Beth and I are going to hit him hard tonight, and let me tell you, the plan I have in mind is going to disorient them. The thing is, Beth would be mad at me if we leave without freeing the prisoners. That’s where you three men come into the picture.”
“Say what?” Missus Bishop exclaimed. “You two may be dumb enough to go blasting your way into that camp, but you ain’t getting my Billy killed for no bunch of…No matter, it’s not going to happen. We’re out of there and none of us is going back.”
“Why didn’t you finish your sentence Missus Bishop?” Beth asked angrily. “Maybe I can finish it for you. Your boy’s, not getting killed for a bunch of niggers and spicks, is what you meant to say. I was beginning to like you, but maybe it’s a shame you’re too old to be getting a whipping to teach you some decency. Jake, let’s leave this trash and get some sleep before we head out.”
“Not so fast,” Billy said. “I reckon I might be taking a hand in this if you got a plan that makes sense.” He waved his mom to silence. “I’m a grown man, Mom, and I made up my mind I’m going to help them.”
“I reckon me and Lamar might join in too,” Will said. I want to be away so bad I can taste it, but I hate Saint more than I got common sense. He nodded towards another man. Rob can stay with the women and kids till we get back. When we first met Saint….”
HARD ROAD: Heaven Bound Page 26