Walker forced himself to focus. It never had been his strong suit, but he liked to believe he was adaptable.
The puttering noise warned the men that their target approached. Walker placed his AK-47 against the fallen tree to steady it and waited. While the Somerton men were, in theory, answering to him, he knew what he didn't know, and ambushes like this weren't part of his skill set. Instead, he was just a shooter and here to learn. It grated on him, but he could put up with it in the short term.
The bus pulled into view. He aimed the weapon and readied to pull the trigger. All he need was the signal.
From in front of the bus, a flurry of gunshots tore into the old, rusted yellow metal. All around, weapons answered. Walker pulled the trigger, adding his AK's report to the lethal symphony.
The last attack like this was described as being only a hair more sporting than staking a cow out in the middle of a pasture and hunting it. This time wouldn't be so easy.
From within the bus, muzzle flashes answered. Bark and bits of tree flew from around Walker's cover. He ducked down quickly, avoiding the worst of the onslaught. "Son of a bitch," he yelled.
The shots near him tapered off, so he forced himself to look over the tree. Muzzle flashes from inside the bus were still there, but not as many as before. Walker pulled his AK up and aimed at where one of the flashes had been. He opened fire, moving away from the point of the flash with each shot until silence eventually fell upon the grizzly scene.
"Cease fire," cried a number of voices, all from about where his people would be. Around him, the Somerton men stood and scanned the surrounding area. Walker pushed himself off the hard earth and mimicked their actions.
He walked toward the bus. His rifle's butt sat in the pocket of his shoulder, the barrel kept low as he inched closer and closer to the bus.
One of the Somerton men darted into the bus, weapon up and his finger on the trigger, ready to kill. After a few tense moments, the call from within came. "Clear," the man shouted.
All around him, Walker saw the Somerton men relax slightly. The man Grayson put in operational command ordered everyone to pull back. Just as quickly as it all started, the group faded off into the forest.
Walker might not be a big fan of Grayson as a person, or the stick up his people's asses, but damned if they weren't efficient.
** ** **
"I'm still surprised you even trust me enough for this," Chu said as they walked toward the Ranger's barracks.
The sun's light only hinted at the coming dawn as Jason sipped the herbal concoction masquerading as a cup of tea. Herbal teas didn't have the kick coffee did, but entire towns were bought for the price of a good cup of coffee these days, and he just didn't have the cash. Even if he had a source.
Jason shrugged. "Still not sure I do. Not even for this."
"Then why do you want me doing this?"
The sheriff smiled. "Simple. If you screw us over, the Rangers will have more than enough reason to hunt your ass down and do horrible things to your carcass."
"Oh, well, as long as there's a good reason," Chu said with a chuckle. At least he had a sense of humor.
Megan and Rick met them outside of the garrison's barracks. Jason still had a hard time reconciling that he was living in the Twenty-First Century, yet one of the most modern buildings in town was a log cabin that looked more like it should have been built two hundred years earlier.
"You ready?" Megan asked.
Chu nodded. "Remind me to ask what's in this for me a little later, alright?"
"What?" Jason asked. "Community service isn't a good enough cause?"
The other man cut his eyes toward him. "You're joking, right?"
Jason smiled in spite of himself. "We'll talk."
"For the record, Mr. Chu, Rick's exempt. Someone has to work, and he's one of the ones who isn't a problem."
"Understood. Besides, he's got a pedigree that I can use, and not from his father," Chu said, glancing over at Jason with the last part.
"I'll go get them," Megan said, then disappeared into the darkness on the other side of the door.
"Oh, this is going to be good," Rick mumbled only barely loud enough to be heard.
Only moments later, screaming erupted from within the barracks. "On your feet you two-bit shit stains. Everyone fall out on the commons. Now!"
Megan's orders were met with a mixture of uttered profanities, trunk lids openings, and the general chaos of men trying to get dressed before their brains had even fully engaged that they were conscious.
Jason smiled again. He couldn't help it. While his father told plenty of stories of what it was like to be on the other end of things, it sure was amusing to be view as a spectator. In fact, Jason's father would probably have readily agreed.
It didn't take long before bodies spilled out into the pre-dawn world, a tumble of men in various states of undress, trying desperately to force their feet into boots their eyes could only barely see, much less comprehend.
Behind them, Megan followed, urging them on with a string of profanities both impressive and terrifying in their variety. Rick fought to stifle a chuckle, only partially succeeding.
Megan's barrage stopped once all were out of the barracks and more or less where they were supposed to be.
"When you are told to fall in, you will fall in," Chu barked, his voice seeming to boom. "You will do so quickly and quietly. You will fall into two lines and stand at attention." Chu then bellowed, "AM I UNDERSTOOD?"
"Who the hell do you think you are?" One of the younger Rangers asked.
Jason knew the drill, more or less, and he expected Chu to rip into the Ranger. Instead, the small Asian man smiled and stepped forward. In a very quiet voice, he leaned toward the Ranger and said, "I am the one tasked with taking you wastes of sperm and turning you into something worthy of the name 'Ranger'."
"We're already worthy, dude, so why don't you go on so we can go back to bed," the young man quipped, a cocky smile on his face.
"Really?" Chu asked, his smile broadening. "Care to back that up?"
"Gladly," the Ranger said, then swung at Chu without any warning.
He might as well have sent an engraved invitation for all the good it did him.
Chu ducked under the blow, then grabbed the man's wrist. In an instant, Chu seemed to hop up and throw his legs up on the Ranger, putting him in an arm bar faster than Jason could register what was happening. His weight brought him back to the ground just as quickly, adding tension on the young man's arm as he followed Chu to the ground. The whole maneuver took a split second.
The Ranger struggled, desperate to get out from the lock, especially since Chu was cranking down. The Ranger groaned, clearly in pain. That was when Chu simply stopped. He kept the arm bar on, but he didn't put any more into it. He just held it in place.
"Your name, Ranger?" Chu asked, his voice as calm and serene as possible.
"Collins," the Ranger replied.
"Collins, sir," Chu said.
"Collins, sir!" the Ranger barked.
"Mr. Collins, are you quite done trying to impress your friends?"
"Yeah…uh, yes sir."
Chu released the arm bar and stood. "Excellent," Chu said calmly. He then bent over, putting his face just a few inches away from the Ranger's and yelled, "Now get your maggot-eaten ass up and fall the fuck in before I turn you into a greasy spot on my commons."
Collins popped up and ran back to his place in line. As he settled into his place, the other Rangers all settled into some approximation of attention.
Looking at the assembled mass, Chu sighed. "I really do have my work cut out for me, don't I?"
He stepped forward and looked at the Rangers. "The reason none of you are worthy of the name 'Ranger' is because you have not earned it. Investigator Hernandez and Ranger Calvin have earned theirs under fire. They stood up to the tyranny they saw in this world and faced it down. You shit stains? You haven't done more than put on a badge and think that it actually m
atters.
"There is a reason neither of them are out here. They've earned the title. The kids in the Ranger Academy? Yeah, they're earning it too. You? You have done NOTHING.
"Even if you had, you forfeited your opportunity to claim the title when a fucking card game was more important than bailing out a teammate. Rick Calvin stood against a number armed men. At least a dozen, from what I understand. He did it with a sidearm. A fucking pistol. That is not the tool I'd want in that circumstance. You heard those shots, didn't you?"
The Rangers said nothing, but their eyes shifted around as if they were ashamed to make eye contact.
"ANSWER ME!" Chu ordered.
Collins nodded. "Yes sir, we heard it."
"And you did nothing. Does your protocol not specify that you will respond to anything that sounds like a gunfight?"
The eyes shifted again, the Rangers desperate to avoid eye contact. Reluctantly, Collins nodded again, saying nothing.
Chu decided to let it slide. Instead, he said, "And you snot nosed shits, thinking you're all a bunch of hard asses, have been looking for fights, then let a real one slide by. This is not a punishment. Oh, it's going to feel like one, but it's not.
"What this is," Chu said as he started pacing in front of the ranks, "is a new way of life. You Rangers expect to be respected, to be loved. You think that you're something special, but this man," he said as he pointed to Jason, "has done more than all of you put together. Hell, Ranger Calvin is considered a goddamn hero in this town. Investigator Hernandez is whispered about in hushed tones of awe from what she went through. These are the real hard asses, and you are unworthy of being in their company.
"What you are, however, are turdnuggets. As it stands you are all useless. However, like any other turdnugget, you can be used to create something great. My job here is to make that happen. My job is to put you through the crucible, burn off all the shit you brought with you, and then you will be safe to unleash on an unsuspecting world. Do you understand me?"
A gaggle of "Yes sir" came from the Rangers, though the words were only barely recognizable.
"I said, 'DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?'"
A much smoother chorus came from the men, the words close to in unison as the Rangers said, "Yes sir!"
Chu shook his head. "Pathetic, but what more did I expect from crotch stains like you?"
He stopped his back and forth pacing, then turn toward the Rangers. "Now, ladies, the first thing we're going to deal with is how to get your lazy asses motivated. Let's start with a couple of miles. If you handle that well enough, we'll go nice and easy. If not, well, you'll at least know what Hell is like."
Jason fought the urge to laugh. Universally, they all agreed that there was no way all of the Rangers could make a two mile run. In fact, it was unlikely that any of them could do it, but Chu could. After all, the man ran everywhere he went as it was.
The Rangers turned, then were screamed about for about five minutes regarding how to turn, then took off at a relatively slow pace.
Jason stepped toward Megan and Rick. "Okay, that was just funny."
Megan smiled. "Let's just hope it works."
He released the frivolity and nodded somberly. "For all of our sakes."
"Especially since there was another attack," Rick said.
"Where?"
"About five miles outside of Corvinsburg," Megan said.
"They're on it?"
She nodded. "As much as they can. These guys are good. They spent the last couple of years hiding. They're good at it by now."
Jason nodded.
"So," she said, her demeanor picking up, "I heard you've got to see the doc today?"
He nodded. "Yep. Hopefully to be cleared."
"Then you can run with Chu and the boys?" Rick teased.
Jason laughed. "Not about to happen. I don't mind looking bad, but not in front of people he just made me look good in front of."
** ** **
Another morning dawned. Jason looked out of his bedroom window at the retreating darkness. He slept, but not much. That was the norm. Had been for a couple of years now, truth be told. Not that he actually told anyone.
Jason sat on the edge of the bed, the dawn light bouncing off of the white walls. He picked up his pants. The dusty brown cloth was worn, but still held up well enough. At least a dozen places showed stitching at odd angles, patching done to mend the torn garment. Each hole, a story seared into his memory, but none so poignant as the memory of the woman he loved patching them.
He was cleared for full duty. A month after an attack almost put him down for good, he was back. His emotions raged at the news. The rational part of him said to just let it all go. Let Billy take over as sheriff and find something else to do. The town could make it just fine without him.
The other part of him, however, wouldn't let that happen. The part of him that was unleashed an age ago when he saw a mushroom cloud over a city to the north, one were a number of family members resided. An animal awoke, one determined to protect him and his no matter what. That animal wouldn't let him step aside. It wouldn't just stop him from backing down from this fight. No, it wanted to actively seek it out like any other predator would.
It wasn't that he didn't think Billy could do it. He knew otherwise. What mattered was not surrendering, not letting the bad side of humanity gain another inch. He couldn't let that happen.
He slowly put his right leg through the pants, followed by the left. The pants were comfortable. After so much wear, how could they not?
Next came the shirt. It was new, a Christmas present from Hector. Like his favorite shirt before, it was a deep red. Unlike that older and now lost shirt, it had only three buttons, reaching down about midway down his chest. The arrangement sort of reminded him of the sport shirts from before the nukes. None of them really lasted that well over the last twelve years. Jason buttoned the bottom two buttons, then unbuttoned the sleeves and rolled them up to just below the elbows.
Standing, he tucked the shirt in and slipped the deep brown leather braces up over his shoulders. A quick rotation of his arms settled the braces in the perfect spot. He smiled, remembering Jess suggesting he do it the first time and he'd always called them suspenders until an older man explained that when they were fastened with buttons on the pants, they were called braces. Pleasant memories of people who were now gone.
Hanging from the bedpost was his holster. Also of deep brown leather, it was something of an anomaly. Cut in a western style, it looked like something a cowboy would have worn…if he'd been born in the late Twentieth Century. Despite the antiquated style, it held a CZ-75B, two fifteen round magazines, and an antler handled knife.
Jason took the belt and wrapped it around his waist. Both the holster and the knife's sheath had leather thongs that he tied. He fought back the memory of the last time he'd untied. The animal fought the unwanted images back.
He looked at the mirror on the back of the bedroom door. He didn't like the image welcoming him. No scars from the attack or anything, just the marks of decadence he'd escaped once and was bound and determined to escape again.
A brown coat sat piled in a chair that occupied a corner near the door. Jason picked up the coat and hung it on the nail holding the mirror. He knew what he looked like at the moment. There was no need for a reminder.
He opened the door and stepped out. "Hi, Daddy," greeted him, her tone far more cheerful than any human being should be so early in the morning. Allison was fully dressed and eating some bread and cheese for breakfast.
"Morning, baby. You ready for school?"
Allison nodded. "Yes sir. Are you going to work?" she asked, her eyes glued on the gun on his hip.
He nodded and knelt down. "I am. Are you okay with that?"
She smiled. "Yep. You keep people safe. Just you be safe too, okay?"
He smiled and pulled her close. "I promise, baby. I promise."
** ** **
Jason dropped Allison off at school, then made his w
ay to Tabby's. He still had a few hours before he needed to check in at the office. Besides, in a small town, everyone knew where to find him if he was needed. He had no doubt that it was common knowledge that he was back on the beat.
Tabby's house sat immediately behind the tavern. Like before the nukes, the house you could have depended on your ability to provide. Either you built it yourself, like Jason, or you coughed up funds to have other people build. Everyone knew that Tabby paid, and boy did she pay. A sprawling, square-shaped villa style home, she'd brought in craftsmen from throughout the TVA to build the home.
The house was square shaped, stretching a good forty yards in any direction. An apple tree peeked up through the center, indicating a courtyard of some kind. It was like nothing Jason had ever seen. Spanish tiles cascaded down from the roof's peak, something hard to find in this day and age.
Countless whispers speculated on how she'd managed to hold onto that wealth, everything from having been a warlord's mistress to a warlord herself. Jason didn't care. All he cared about was that someone who could help lived here.
He knocked on the rich wooden door.
The door opened, Tabby's smiling face on the other side. "Hey," she said. She wore a sports bra and tight workout pants that cut off mid calf.
"Uh, hey. Bad time?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Nope. Just getting a few things taken care of. Come on in," she said, stepping out of the way.
He stepped into the house and quickly scanned the surroundings. In contrast to the rich luxury outside, the interior was relatively Spartan. Simple chairs in the living room sat facing one another, two rows of three each. On the far wall, a stone fireplace sat empty. Not so much as ash dirtied it. On the floor was the only sign of luxury. A richly woven carpet, white with a red cross with eight points, as if four arrowed had been arranged tip to tip.
"Not what you expected?" she asked, noticing his surprise.
"Can't say that it is. The tavern, the outside, all give one impression. Inside your house? Whole other ball of wax."
Bad Moon on the Rise (Soldiers of New Eden Book 3) Page 10