Charlie kissed her gently, then kissed Julia. He disengaged himself and watched as Rebecca and Julia walked off to their room. Rebecca turned around when she reached the stairs and said. “John knew what he was doing when he asked you to take care of us. You’re the best there is.” She turned out of sight, leaving Charlie by himself.
He thought about that for a second, then smiled grimly. Time to get ready, he thought. He walked over to the supply room and picked up a couple granola bars. He refilled his water and grabbed an extra knife. His tomahawks were waiting for him and he strapped them on carefully, testing the blades to make sure they were sharp. Three extra magazines for his Glock were placed within easy reach and he pulled down an extra blanket.
Satisfied with his equipment, he headed out the front door and made his way to his observation post. He needed to make sure he was able to communicate how the enemy was attacking and needed to be watching when they made their move.
Settling into his spot, he idly wondered if he should just walk over and set the building on fire. But he dismissed the thought, feeling pretty sure there likely was a guard who’d shoot at the first flicker of a match. Charlie unrolled his blanket and eased himself onto the ground and settled into a light, dreamless sleep.
The sound of a car door closing woke Charlie in the early light, where the sun had not yet fully risen and the moon was still very clear in the sky. The river at his back had mist rising off the gently moving surface and the forest was slowly waking to a new day. Animals were shaking the sleep out of their eyes and here and there he could see movement in the corners of his vision. For some reason he noted the squirrels were particularly numerous this year. Must be all the squirrel he ate when he was a kid. It was greasy, but satisfying.
Charlie shifted and brought up his binoculars, studying the scene before him. Six men were moving away from the lodge across the parking lot and the truck they arrived in was pulling away, moving towards Route 71, a road that went behind the state park. Four in the truck, Charlie thought as he watched the men reach the road and spilt again, this time into teams of three. One group followed the truck and the other turned down Route 178, the main road leading to the main gate. Charlie nodded. So it begins, he thought. He pulled out the radio and sent a quick message to Mike. “They split up. Get everyone moving to their spots, you have probably fifteen minutes. Go.”
Charlie slithered out of his post and rolled up his blanket, slipping it into his pack. He had a plan for it but it required the three men he was chasing to play along and he got the impression they weren’t here to play.
He followed the high trail for a quarter mile, then slipped through the underbrush as silent as a ghost. He had the advantage of the high ground and knowing roughly where his enemies were going to be. Hopefully, they would appear without trying to do anything too clever. Charlie worked his way down the cliffs and hills, making as much noise as a field mouse. When he could see the parking lot, he stayed up in the brush, content to wait for the men to come to him. Given the rate they were moving, he should be seeing them in just a few minutes.
Chapter 5
Corporal August moved as quickly as he dared down Route 178. When he crossed a hill, he could see the river valley stretch before him and the bridge to Utica. Even in his hardened mind he thought it was a very nice place. He walked faster than his companions and was constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure they were keeping up. Private Hernandez was a former drug dealer and hated taking orders from anyone. He made the mistake of mouthing off to Corporal August once and had gotten a serious beating for it. Private Showers was an older, balding man, and was quiet, but August knew he was always calculating, looking for an angle or some advantage. Simply put, he didn’t trust either of the two men with him, but since Captain Tamikara made the lists, he had little choice.
“Come on, let’s pick up the pace.” Corporal August growled over his shoulder. He didn’t see the scowls on their faces or the way Private Hernandez half raised his rifle menacingly to the muted snicker of Private Showers.
The three men half-jogged down the large hill and turned into the park at the faded wood sign. The road was bracketed by heavy brush on both sides and the tree canopies darkened the way through considerably, since the sun was just barely coming up.
Following the entrance, the trio wound their way towards the parking lot, skipping over a couple of switchbacks and standing at the edge of a large expanse of asphalt. In the distance, a big building could be seen at the edge of the lot. Grass was growing up in numerous places and in a few years this parking lot would be a field.
Walking along the southern edge of the lot, Corporal August outstripped the other squad members quickly, as the two other men walked slowly, taking in the scenery. Corporal August turned around and saw that his two men were fifty yards behind him.
“Dammit!” he whispered. He couldn’t yell at the men to move, because they were close enough to the buildings to alert the occupants. “Screw it! They can catch up in a minute.” He turned his back on the men and stalked over to the building, which he could see was a visitor center by the large sign on the wall. He began to reconnoiter it, looking for less than obvious openings. His search took him around the corner of the building and out of sight of the two other men.
Private Ray Showers grinned and watched Corporal August get pissed and turn his back on them. He couldn’t care less about this mission, he was just looking to get some female action as soon as possible. He said as much to his companion who responded by snorting.
“Shit, man. That ain’t nothin’. We finish this, we can set up here and live like kings. Raid the water towns, man. Easy livin’.” Private Hernandez reached down and scratched himself, something he did on a nearly continual basis.
“Right. We can be pirates and… did you hear that?” Private Showers cocked his head and listened hard. “Sounded like someone slapped somebody. You hear it, Damien?”
Damien didn’t answer, he simply took a hesitant step, then fell forward onto his side.
“Jesus, Hernandez, you okay man?” Ray knelt down next to his friend and turned him over. “What happen…Oh, Christ!”
Private Showers fell back as he stared at the tomahawk handle sticking out at a right angle to Private Hernandez’s face. The blade was buried deep in the soldier’s skull, having crashed through his temple.
“Shit! Shit! Where’s fucking August, God dammit!” Private Showers’ face was full of fear as he grabbed at his weapon, stood up and scanned the woods for a threat. He caught something glittering out of the corner of his eye and as he turned, another blade hit him full in the throat, severing his windpipe and pouring blood into his lungs. He fell back, gurgling, his feet scraping at the grass, while his hands feebly tried to pull out the axe that had killed him.
As his vision began to go dark and his struggles slowed, Private Showers saw a large man emerge from the woods. He walked over to the two men and removed the first axe from Private Hernandez’s head, wiping the blade off on the soldier’s uniform. The man then turned his attention to Private Showers, who raised a weak hand for help. The man bent down and removed the tomahawk, causing more blood to flow into Showers’ lungs. The last thing Private Ray Showers saw in this world was the man standing over him for a second, then disappearing silently into the woods.
Corporal August circled the building and hoped to find his men standing at the doorway. Instead, when he looked out on the parking lot, he saw two inert forms.
“Son of a bitch!” August ran over to the two men and surveyed the damage. He was concentrating on the men and didn’t see a dark form flitting through the trees in the opposite direction.
He knelt and looked over the two and shook his head. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy, he thought gloomily as he quickly stripped the men of weapons and ammo, placing the items in his pack and slinging the rifles across his back. Shit.
For a brief second, he considered just heading out the way he came, crossing the river an
d never coming back. He had enough weapons to survive and the thought was tempting. But he knew Thorton would eventually find him, so he’d better to see this through and hope for a win as opposed to certain death later.
Corporal August left the dead men and trotted out away from the trees. If anyone threw anything at him, he’d at least reduced the effectiveness with distance and might actually see it first and avoid it. He walked carefully back to the Visitor Center, his rifle at the ready, his nerves on edge.
Those same nerves got a healthy jolt when August looked down at the sidewalk in front of the building and lying there in the sun, was a bloody tomahawk. The blood was fresh enough that it was still bright red, not yet turning brown, soaking into the sidewalk.
“Mother fucker!” cursed Corporal August as he stared at the building. That certainly wasn’t there before and he had to decide what it was. A challenge? Or a warning?
A sound form inside the building decided the issue for him. Someone cried out and August heard someone else trying to shush whoever had made the noise.
So something is worth protecting in here, hey? He thought, pulling open the door. It won’t be after I’m done with them. Corporal August eased through the door, his rifle up and ready. He could hear strained breathing, like someone was in pain. Moving cautiously through the little information center, he scanned the museum desk and book center. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so he moved to the double doors in the back end.
Corporal August peered through the tall, thin windows and could see what might have been a gift shop. There were some booths and tables, which indicated a possible snack shop as well. Someone cried out again and again came the sound of someone trying to quiet whoever was hurting. A woman’s voice could be heard trying to sooth whoever was in there.
Corporal August smiled and burst into the room, slamming the door back and rushing in. “Nobody fucking move!” he screamed, pointing his gun at a woman who sat next to a still form in a bed.
The woman looked up at him and August was surprised to see she didn’t look in the least afraid of him. That was weird. Usually women were afraid, or if they weren’t, they learned to be.
“Who the hell are you? Who’s in the bed?” Corporal August kept his rifle on the woman and looked closely at the inert form. When he saw the face, he had to hide his shock. “Well, I’ll be damned. The little shit actually lived. I wondered if he did.” August shifted his rifle. “Guess he managed to warn you all after selling you out.”
Rebecca said nothing, placing a hand on Dan Winters’ hand. He had cried out a couple of times, just like he was supposed to. She looked back at Corporal August and shook her free hand at August. “Go away, please. You’re bleeding on the floor.”
August looked at her like she was nuts. “I’m not bleeding, you stupid bitch. Now back up while I kill this little shit. I’ll get to you in a second.” August raised his rifle and aimed at Dan’s head.
Right before he pulled the trigger, Rebecca said, “You’re right, you’re not bleeding. Yet.”
August scowled. “Just shut up, you…”
Whatever Corporal August was going to say was lost in the crashing echo of his rifle’s report as he pulled the trigger. But the bullet blasted through the roof, not Winters’ head. That was because Corporal August was suddenly pulled off his feet and his shot went wild. August felt himself being lifted off the floor and then he was slamming into the wall, crumpling down dazed. His rifle skittered away on the floor, to be coolly picked up by the woman.
August shook his head and tried to get up, but a large hand grabbed a bundle of his shirt, hauled him off his feet again and threw him through the door. He fell to the floor in a heap and as he got to his hands and knees, he felt his sidearm being pulled out of its holster, then the rifles on his back were lifted off and tossed aside. August cleared his senses and leapt forward, rolling on his shoulder and coming off the floor in a jump. He whipped out his knife, a six-inch double-bladed model he had found on a raid. He snarled and waved it in front of him as he got a good look at his adversary.
“I’ll kill you slowly for what you did to my men.” August bared his teeth and readied for his attack. The man in front of him, while slightly shorter, was heavier built with a good fifteen pounds on Corporal August’s six foot three lean frame. He looked at August and said nothing, reaching behind his neck and pulling out a gleaming tomahawk. Even in the dimly lit interior of the visitor center, August could see the edge shine wickedly.
August watched with interest as the man slid the tomahawk through the snack shop doors, where it was scooped up by the woman in there. The woman was holding his rifle like she knew how to use it and August realized he wasn’t going to go back in there. But right now he cared about killing this man in front of him. He owed him that much. The man pulled a knife from a sheath at his hip and August grinned as he realized what this was going to be.
“Time to die, cocksucker.” August stepped forward and lunged at the man, hoping his longer reach would be an advantage. He hoped for a quick kill, then he would deal with the woman.
Charlie stepped aside from the lunge and brought up his knife to slash at August’s forearm. It was such a casual move it almost seemed like it was in slow motion. Charlie followed the cut with a sharp blow to the back of the corporal’s hand, knocking the knife out of his grasp.
Corporal August hissed and brought his injured arm to his chest, holding the wound with his other hand. He stared hard at a man who looked like he had barely moved, yet managed to both cut and disarm him.
Charlie kept his eyes on the man and kicked the knife back over to him. He flexed his shoulders and held the knife loosely at his side. This was not like fighting John. With Talon, Charlie had to be alert all the time, looking for strikes within strikes within strikes. He and John had honed their skill over the last year, mostly for lack of anything else to do. Charlie liked to explode into action, having plotted three courses of action in the split second it takes for another person to react. He waited for the corporal to pick up the knife.
Corporal August was wary. He picked up the knife and held it tightly, trying to draw comfort from its grip. He had never faced a man like this before, someone who practically dared him to attack. But he knew if he ran, the man would simply hunt him down with that fucking tomahawk of his. Better to die on his feet.
Corporal August advanced slowly, keeping his feet on the floor while Charlie waited, looking almost bored. When he came within striking distance, August suddenly reversed his grip on the knife and raised it by his ear to slash at Charlie’s head.
Charlie had no intention of waiting. When August raised his arm, Charlie struck, slipping his knife to his left hand while diving forward and burying the thin blade to the hilt in August’s solar plexus. As August bent forward, Charlie pulled the blade out and stepped completely behind the other man. When the corporal straightened and tried to turn around, Charlie grabbed him by the shoulder and stabbed the knife into the base of his skull. The blade penetrated easily, piercing the spine and entering the brain.
Corporal August stiffened, then his eyes rolled up as he died on his way to the floor. Charlie watched him fall, then turned back to the double doors. Rebecca lowered her rifle when she saw it was her husband. She ran over to him and held him tightly, grateful her man was all right.
“You okay?” Charlie asked, kissing her lightly on the head.
“I’m fine.” Rebecca smiled up at him. “Dan’s doing better, but he’s still unconscious.”
Charlie frowned. “I heard him cry out. How did that happen.?”
Rebecca grinned. I knew you needed a distraction so I was pinching him for all I was worth.”
Charlie laughed. “Some nurse. Remind me not to get sick.” He held her again. “I need to go see if I can help everybody else.”
Rebecca let him go. “I know. Be careful. Go find the kids.”
Charlie nodded. “I will. I’ll be back soon,” he promised. He retrieved his tomahawks a
nd trotted out the door. He hoped he would be able to lend a hand at the lodge, but when he went outside, he heard shots coming from near the building. He cursed as he ran for the stairs that went up the cliff face, praying he wasn’t too late.
Chapter 6
Sarah and Angela had become very close in the previous year, nearly sisters in their outlook on things in general and life in particular. Sarah was singularly thrilled when Angela confided in her that she was pregnant. Angela and Tommy hadn’t gotten married yet, but they were planning on a trip upriver to get the job done. Sarah was holding out a secret hope that perhaps she and John might be expecting, but it was too early to tell. Sarah was concerned as she was reaching the age where child bearing was going to be difficult, but as silly as it sounded, she wanted John to have another child. In her view, a man like that comes along once in a generation and one could probably trace his lineage to many great leaders throughout the history of the world. If John had heard any of this he would have laughed and said he just does what he does and things seem to work out, usually.
Sarah was sitting on a chair in a third floor room facing south when she saw movement in the trees. She called out to Angela, who was across the hall, looking out the back way. Both of them had heard a shot coming from the Visitor Center and knowing that Rebecca was there, shared a look of concern. But they would have to wait to check on their friend.
“We got movement,” Sarah said.
“Coming over.” Angela moved quickly to Sarah’s side. “How many?” she wondered, trying to pierce the greenery.
“Not sure. Charlie said something about three of them, but I can only see two. Hold on, there’s the third,” Sarah said, picking up her little M1 carbine. It used to be John’s but he gave it to her when she proved she was better with it than he was. It was the perfect size for her and since the recoil was very manageable, she had gotten very good with it.
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