Bishop's Song

by Joe Nobody

“I’m back to 100%, at least on the weights and mobility. Damn, it’s been a long, hard road.”

  Nodding, Deke seemed to drift off for a moment before replying. “Back when I was with the forces, I took a 7.62 slug in the hip. I remember the pain of getting back in the saddle. Just remember, pain is only weakness leaving your body.”

  Bishop laughed, “Save that bullshit for some recruit. Pain hurts, dude.”

  Deke chuckled, “Well, I had to say it… you know, for old time’s sake.”

  As Bishop dried the perspiration off his face with a towel, Deke shuffled his feet and looked down. Finally, he came out with it, sort of. “I came by to ask how Ms. Terri is doing.”

  “She’s good, considering,” Bishop began. His tone then became reflective. “How do women do that… I mean hump around a baby like that? I’ve carried a heavy ruck my fair share, but you eventually take it off. Until the baby was born, she was stuck with it 24-7. Then after all that, she suffers through hours of teeth grinding pain, loses about 10 gallons of fluid and half her blood during birth. But the fun’s not over. Now, she has to get up every few hours to feed the lad.”

  Deke shook his head, “I hear ya. Amazing shit. They’re stronger than we give them credit for, I think.”

  Bishop’s visitor seemed to hesitate, almost as if he were summoning courage. Deke finally spilled what was on his mind. “I’ve got an issue building on my team, and I think it’s getting serious. Grim’s lost contact with his wife and daughter, and it’s driving him crazy. He was getting the occasional message via Phil through the shortwave, but that stopped two weeks ago... just went cold-silent. Grim wants to mount a rescue. Half the team wants to go with him; the other half quietly thinks it’s a suicide mission.”

  “Where do they live?”

  “Middle Tennessee.”

  “Oh shit. That’s like on the other side of the world these days.”

  “Yeah. We gave up hope of our employer retrieving us months ago. Mr. King had moved Darkwater’s headquarters to Dubai a few years ago, and we’ve tried a hundred times to get through on the satellite phone. No one answers. Most of the guys are divorced, or like me and never married. A few left their wife and kids with family and are pretty confident they’re safe. Grim, though, didn’t have that luxury. He’s a good man, but worrying about them is making him stupid. I caught him packing up to head out on his own two days ago. It took a lot of persuasion to cool his jets.”

  Bishop was familiar with the issue, and not just with Deke’s man. The topic was part of daily conversation within the community as a whole.

  Just like his exercise, contact with distant family and friends had taken a backseat to eating and security post-SHTF. Now that everyone’s day wasn’t completely preoccupied with day-to-day survival, people had the time to wonder about children, siblings and other pre-collapse relationships. Without phones, email or a post office, contact with relatives living far away was next to impossible. The few shortwave radio operators up and running did their best, but there just wasn’t that many of them to form any sort of cohesive network.

  “Anyway,” Deke continued, “I was thinking of approaching your wife and asking if my team could acquire some gas, a vehicle and the other necessary supplies… should we decide to mount up and bring Grim’s family back here.”

  Bishop shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t see why not. You and your team have contributed as much as anyone since you’ve been here.”

  “Thanks for that, but… well… I didn’t know what kind of reception I’d receive approaching her with hat-in-hand. After all, we did kidnap her, and some people hold a grudge over shit like that.”

  Laughing, Bishop recalled the incident that had brought Deke and his men into the community. Subconsciously rubbing his shoulder where the bullet had almost ended his life, he then shook his head to clear the cloudy, dark thoughts.

  “Deke, that entire situation was fucked. You guys didn’t know what was going on, and Terri and I didn’t have a clue. I don’t think she holds a grudge.”

  “We Tasered a pregnant woman, for God’s sake. We didn’t know she was with child, but still…”

  Bishop interrupted, “And she shot one of you in the chest, didn’t she?”

  Nodding with a smile, Deke replied, “Yup. That was me. Thank the Lord for condoms and body armor.”

  “And I shot one of your men out at the ranch, right?”

  Deke didn’t reply, taking his turn to relive a troubled episode.

  After a bit, Bishop continued. “Look, those were some crazy times. All of us did shit we regret. You also shot Nick’s son, and I tried like hell to kill all of you out at the ranch. Before some measure of order was restored, it was just insane, and everyone knows that. Your team did the right thing once the truth came out, and that’s all anyone can ask these days.”

  It took the operator a few moments to digest Bishop’s words. Nodding, he said, “Any chance you’d tag along to echo some of that wisdom to your wife? Put in a good word for us?”

  Bishop’s brow wrinkled, “No, that I can’t do. If I went with you, people might think I was lobbying on your behalf. We have hundreds of folks in the same spot, and I’ve got to remain impartial. I’ve had friends who had kids in college when everything fell apart, and they begged me to go retrieve their children. I couldn’t. Almost every day someone approaches me with the same problem, and there’s no way we can go retrieve every single citizen’s loved one.”

  Deke frowned, not liking Bishop’s answer.

  Bishop sighed, clearly uncomfortable with delivering bad news. “Yesterday, Miss Emily approached me in tears. You know the lady I’m talking about – she works as a volunteer at the new clinic.”

  “Yeah, I know her… super sweet older lady who mothers everyone that comes in.”

  “Yup, that’s the one. Anyway, she caught me walking down the street yesterday morning and asked… no begged me to go to Denver and bring back her sister. She’s been having nightmares about her sibling being hungry and suffering badly. She confessed to feeling guilt with every bite of food she puts in her mouth. The sister would be 68 years old, if she’s still alive. Given what we’ve heard about Denver, the trip alone might kill her – even if we had unlimited resources.”

  Deke replied, “I hadn’t thought about it that way. Are you saying it’s a bad idea to ask?”

  “No, not at all. Your team is a little different than most folks. You guys have the skills to do it on your own. Most of the people who are missing a family member would need someone else to go out and bring them in, and there’s not enough manpower to do that. Unless I’m missing something, all you need is material things, not manpower that we can’t spare right now.”

  “No, we wouldn’t need any people… just gas, food, maybe some ammo.”

  Bishop took a moment, trying to visualize Terri’s reaction to Deke’s request. Ammunition was a huge problem. Every guy with reloading equipment was being pressed into service, but there wasn’t enough of the required powder and primers to last long. Some of the engineers were working on the problem, but so far no solution had been proposed.

  Food wasn’t an issue, at least not yet. Gasoline fell into the same category, the mini-refinery in Midland Station working 24 hours a day. Automobiles were in plentiful supply given that half the population was dead.

  “How many miles is Tennessee?” Bishop asked.

  “Almost 2,000 as the crow flies. In one of Grim’s calmer moments, we pulled out a map and plotted a route. If you go around the larger cities, it ends up about 2,200 or so… round trip.”

  Bishop did the math in his head. The experience of his bug-out from Houston had taught him a lot of lessons, the most important of which was that gas mileage was terrible with the type of travel involved.

  “Let’s just say 2,500 miles round trip, given some margin of error. If you take a pickup, you’re talking about 10 miles per gallon, so 250 gallons of fuel. That’s five drums. No normal pickup can carry that much weight, eve
n if you didn’t take any food, gear or people.”

  Deke seemed to be checking Bishop’s math, finally asking, “I was calculating about 15 miles per gallon. You think it would only be 10?”

  Nodding, Bishop replied, “When Terri and I bugged out from Houston, that’s about what we averaged, and I wasn’t carrying that much weight. You start, stop, idle, reverse course and do all sorts of things that differ from normal driving. I wouldn’t count on much more mileage than that. I also wouldn’t count on being able to scavenge any fuel while on the trip.”

  The contractor’s expression showed dismay. “I should probably double the amount of clock-time as well. That means twice the food and water.”

  “Carrying gasoline around in the bed of a truck when people might be shooting at you isn’t a prime idea anyway. Let me think about the problem for a bit. In the meantime, you are on your own with Terri. Good luck, my man.”

  Chapter 4

  Alpha, Texas

  July 1, 2016

  The chest was a little tight, but other than that, the suit Deke borrowed from Alpha’s football coach fit. Not only was the lead operator dressed to the 9s, his entire team stood before the council, looking like a platoon of Secret Service agents out for a Saturday night on the town.

  “Who is getting married?” whispered Nick to Bishop, both men sitting in the audience section of the council chambers.

  “I think Deke and Grim have decided to tie the knot. Since the council legalized same sex marriages, you never know.”

  “I would have picked Moses. I hear he can cook.”

  Both men snickered, which drew a harsh glance from Diana. She flashed Nick a look that clearly read, “Don’t make me come out there.”

  Deke finished his presentation, “In summary, my team wishes to thank this esteemed body for welcoming us into the community. We bring a unique set of skills to the Alliance and can continue to contribute for the betterment of our society. I believe there is no stronger proof of that statement than the fact that one of our members wishes to relocate his family here.”

  Terri, sitting in the middle of the elected officials, acknowledged the request. “Deke, on behalf of the council and me, I want to relay our sincerest appreciation for all you and your men have done for the Alliance. I have just a couple of questions regarding your proposal.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the contractor replied with a smooth tone, flashing his broadest smile.

  “Smart man,” Bishop whispered back to Nick. “New mothers love being charmed.”

  Terri adjusted Hunter’s papoose-like carrier, and then focused her gaze on Grim. “My understanding is that you lost contact with your wife and child a few weeks back, is that correct?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Grim replied, looking uncomfortable in the restrictive suit and tie, as well as being the center of attention.

  “And how were they doing before this period of silence?”

  “As best as could be expected. They weren’t starving, but the pantry was bare most of the time. My land is out in the country, so security wasn’t a primary concern.”

  “Thank you, sir. Is there anything else you would like to add?”

  Bishop leaned close to Nick’s ear, “If he gets down on one knee and starts singing to Terri, I’m going to get up and kick his ass.”

  Grim took a step forward, briefly making eye contact with every single member of the council before returning back to Terri. “I miss my family. I worry night and day about my daughter. She’s only 14 and would have been a freshman this year in high school. Surely you, as a new parent, can relate to what I’m feeling,” the man stated with all sincerity. He then swept his hand to indicate all of the governing body, “All of you must be able to relate. Miss Brown, I understand you lost a son to this world gone insane. I’m told most of you have children. I beg you to put yourself in my position, to walk a mile in my shoes. How would you feel? Wouldn’t each and every one of you move heaven and earth to reunite with your family? I am a capable man, benefactor of some of the world’s finest training. I wouldn’t ask anyone else to risk his wellbeing on my behalf. I only request a few small assets, and I’ll do the work myself.”

  “His daughter is only a year younger than Kevin,” Nick observed, his tone suddenly becoming serious. “I know I’d climb the gates of hell to get my boy back.”

  After a few hushed exchanges among the council members, Diana finally spoke. “Grim, we will inform you of our decision by tomorrow noon. Thank you all so much for such professional conduct, and thank you for your service to our community. This meeting is adjourned.”

  Hunter had been fussing, only his mother able to provide comfort. By the time the meeting had finished, he had fallen asleep in his carrier. It was getting to be a habit.

  Bishop gently pulled the apparatus off Terri’s shoulders, careful not to disturb the sleeping child. He wanted to give his wife a break.

  She in turn helped Bishop become the load bearer, smiling at her husband’s efforts. While the two parents adjusted the sling-like harness, Terri spoke in a low voice. “So, what do you think? Should the council approve the request?”

  “I have mixed feelings about it. On one hand, the community’s morale would get a boost if they pulled off the rescue. Some people would bitch a little about the use of resources, but 90% would understand, and it might give them hope.”

  Terri pondered her husband’s view for a moment before responding. “We need those guys, Bishop. According to Nick, they are filling a badly needed role in the training and preparation of our defense forces. If these negotiations fail, we’re going to rely on their skills and bravery.”

  “I agree.”

  “But on the other hand, we can’t go sending a rescue team after every missing family member. It would break us in a matter of days. This is going to be a tough decision.”

  Hunter chose that moment to scowl, the infant’s wrinkly face turning into a fussing cry. Terri smoothed the child’s head, cooing with a soft voice. “You better give him back. I think he’s more comfortable with me right now.”

  “It’s okay,” Bishop countered. “He has to get used to me at some point in time, even if I don’t have boobs.”

  Terri laughed, nodding her head in agreement. But Hunter’s protest continued to build, the infant clearly disgruntled with life at the moment.

  Terri tried to fight it off, knowing it was best to let it play out. On and on, Hunter wailed, Bishop trying to sooth with a soft voice, even checking his son’s diaper to verify that wasn’t the issue. Regardless of Bishop’s excellent care, Hunter’s cries tore at Terri’s core. She knew her child was not in danger, was fully aware that babies sometimes cry. It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. She resisted the unbelievable urge to pick up the child to quiet it.

  “Sometimes you just have to let them go,” Bishop commented, seeming to sense his wife’s mounting frustration.

  The couple left the courthouse, walking to their nearby bungalow. Hunter paused briefly when they stepped outside, then continued to shriek as if in pain.

  Halfway home, Terri couldn’t handle it anymore. “Give him to me,” she said, “I can’t stand it. He’s hurting over something, and its tearing me up inside.”

  Bishop lifted the papoose over his head, giving in to her wishes, not over concern for Hunter, but for his spouse.

  As Terri accepted the baby, Bishop commented, “You’re probably feeling the same thing Grim is. He can’t hear his child’s crying, but I’m sure he imagines it now and then. That has to be worse.”

  The moment wasn’t lost on Terri. Despite the parent-switch, Hunter continued to let everyone in earshot know of his displeasure. He didn’t stop his tirade until the couple was almost home. Suddenly, just as quickly as it had begun, the baby fell silent, apparently happy and calm.

  “Gas,” pronounced Bishop.

  Terri’s pulse and blood pressure returned to normal. She couldn’t help but compare her feelings the past few minutes to the
torture Grim must be feeling every day.

  “I’m going to recommend that the council approve the mission, Bishop.”

  Alpha, Texas

  July 2, 2016

  The candlelight waivered with any movement, the effect enhancing the melancholy expressions of the men congregated around the table. Empty coffee cups, calculators, maps and half-used pads of paper littered the surface, the debris evidence of both the meeting’s duration and intensity. An assortment of chairs had been scavenged, pulled up by those who grew tired of standing while the seemingly endless debates ebbed and flowed.

  Bishop scanned the faces of his comrades, taking a break from the frustrating exercise that fueled his throbbing head. Deke’s team was there, eight elite fighting men with skills honed in some of the world’s most violent places. Those who had witnessed the contractors in action had taken to calling them “ghosts,” their abilities in battle almost mystical.

  Nick sat across the table, his dossier of martial arts skills second to none. A recently retired Special Forces sergeant, he had taken the field on every continent and survived. More importantly, he held the respect of every man at the powwow. They had all seen him fight - they were all glad he was on their side.

  What a brain trust, Bishop thought. The potential for violence gathered in this one spot is amazing. What the hell am I doing here?

  The attendees weren’t all elite warriors. Cory, the town’s mechanic, was in attendance, his knowledge and contribution as critical as any trigger finger. The same could be said of Phil, the local ham radio operator. The skull session was rounded out with the community’s resident pilot, Hugh Mills.

  When the meeting first convened, Bishop had been concerned. In his experience, the presence of so many alpha type personalities often led to impasse and one-upmanship. These were motivated men, unaccustomed to failure, forever striving for the next higher level. Not only had they all achieved that level, they had thrived there.

  This evening, testosterone hadn’t been an issue. An air of competence and cooperation had dominated the discussions. Everyone’s ideas were measured and considered equally, all concepts analyzed and given the same priority, regardless of the source. No, the attendees’ conduct was nothing short of a testament to the professionalism of every man in attendance.