Exodus

by Michael R. Watson

  “Old man, I’m going to let you keep this,” said Peck, looking up. The old man had disappeared, just as suddenly as he had appeared. The old codger was quick, he’d give him that. He leaned the rifle against the tank, then went to the water barrel and kicked it over, dumping all of its precious contents onto the ground. He mounted and looked around the area one last time for the old man. He didn’t have time to conduct a search. He rode away smiling at the old man’s bluff, wondering how many times he had fooled others with that same routine.

  ***

  Early the next morning, before the sun had come up, one of the Raiders came and woke Gant, whispering, “One of the prisoners wants to speak to you. Said his name was Jason.”

  Daniel nodded from his bedroll, sat up and stretched. Standing, he stretched again, resulting in a number of cracking sounds coming from his back, getting the kinks out from sleeping on the ground. What he had back at the valley wasn’t great, but it had been better than this. The stiffness was just another reminder that he wasn’t getting any younger. He looked around to see most of the rest of the camp, as well as his traveling companions, were still asleep. Two Raider sentries watched him warily. As he walked by the campfire, he smelled an unmistakable odor, one that until then he hadn’t realized how much he missed, coffee brewing.

  “Is that coffee?” he asked two men sitting by the fire, already knowing the answer. One looked up and nodded. Obviously, they couldn’t take a hint. “May I?” The man nodded once again. He grabbed an empty cup sitting unattended near the pot and poured a cup. It had been one of the perks he’d been given as the governor’s Master of the Guard, but had gladly given it up when they’d left. He brought it up to his nose where he breathed in deeply, eyes closed, and then took a sip. It was better than he remembered. There was none at the new valley.

  “I’m surprised you boys have coffee,” he commented, attempting to make conversation.

  “It wasn’t ours,” said the other one, seeming to be annoyed at being disturbed. “It was in one of the Guard’s saddle bags.”

  Gant guessed it must have been Peck’s, now the Master of the Guard. “Thanks for the coffee,” he said as he drained the rest of the coffee in the cup and set it back down. Neither replied as he continued on to Jason. When Gant reached the area where the Guard were being kept he was surprised to find most if not all wide awake. They may have been up all night discussing what to do. It was a big life-changing decision and they weren’t taking it lightly.

  Jason came to the edge of their area to meet Gant, under the watchful eyes of two Raiders. Gant waited a few moments for him to begin, wishing he had more of that coffee. When he hesitated, Gant asked, “Did you reach a decision?” Gant saw that Darby was up and waved him over. “I want him to hear your decision, too,” said Gant.

  “We took a vote. It wasn’t unanimous.” He paused. “You see, some of us have families back there and some don’t. And those who don’t would just as soon not go back at all. Now that they’re free of Damon and the governor, they don’t see any reason to risk returning. And they have no allegiance to Ryder or his brother.”

  “Don’t they …”

  “Let me finish,” urged Jason, cutting Gant off. “The rest of us that do have families are ready to go back and help you if you need us to, but it needs to be done immediately. The more time they have to prepare the harder it will be. Any problems with that?”

  Gant thought briefly. “No problem. I actually agree. There is another issue though. Peck. I don’t think we can trust him. Does he have any family there?”

  “I don’t trust any of them,” Darby popped off. Too much bad blood had developed over the last few years between the two groups.

  Gant ignored the comment, as did Jason. Gant knew Jason and trusted him, and was grateful for his willingness to help.

  “I don’t trust him either,” admitted Jason. “He took his duties very serious back at the prison, and now that he’s Master of the Guard, he’ll do anything to keep the title. And he doesn’t have any family that I know of.”

  “Seems like the perfect opportunity for a double-cross,” speculated Gant. “If he gets back and tells Damon and the governor what we have planned, it could ruin both our plans. All they have to do is lock the gates. I’d feel better if he was kept behind. A few of the Raiders can take him back to one of their camps until Ryder and Levi have been rescued and your men have been able to get their families out.”

  “That’s a good idea,” agreed Jason.

  Gant looked over the small army of Guards sitting on the ground. He was going to point out Peck to Darby, but Peck wasn’t where he had been the previous evening. The red uniform should have been easy to spot. He scanned all the faces looking back at him.

  “Have you seen Peck recently?” Gant asked Jason.

  Jason looked out over the men. “I hadn’t really been watching him, but no, I haven’t seen him.” He started asking the others with the question spreading through their group. They were all looking at each other, shaking their heads.

  Gant walked through the men, looking closely at their faces personally. “Has anyone seen Peck?” he asked loudly.

  The Raider guards, realizing they had let one of their prisoners escape, showed their concern.

  John, awakened by the commotion, joined Gant and Darby. “What’s going on?”

  “It appears Peck escaped during the night,” said Gant.

  “Why would he do that?” asked Darby. “He was going to be released this morning anyway.”

  “Maybe he overheard us talking about you taking him back to one of your camps,” speculated Gant.

  “Whatever the reason, I’m sure his motives aren’t in our best interest,” said John, putting in his two cents worth.

  “I’m sorry,” offered Jason. “I should have kept a better eye on him. I didn’t expect him to run off.”

  “What are you going to do now?” Darby asked Gant.

  “Just as we planned. Even if Peck tells Damon and the governor about us, their remaining manpower can’t stop us. All we have to worry about is getting inside the gate.”

  “Can we leave now?” Jason asked Darby. “Peck was the only threat among us.”

  Darby looked at Gant, who nodded his approval.

  “Okay. You’re free to go,” announced Darby. However, there wasn’t a mass exodus as he expected. They stayed near where they had been held, only getting to their feet to form a tight group and start a discussion. They were free, but now they needed to figure out how to free their families.

  “Should we send someone after Peck?” asked John. “It’s possible someone could catch him before he gets back to the compound.”

  “No, we don’t know how much of a head start he has,” said Gant. “But, we can hope Peck runs into the two men Darby sent to follow Damon.” The thought of the chance encounter brought a smile to Gant’s face.

  ***

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Daylight came without further incidents. Gant and Darby walked together to the area where the Guard had initially been held as the Raider’s prisoners. An hour after being told they were free to leave, all still remained there.

  Jason came over to them, talking specifically to Gant. “We thought some more about what you said and we’d like to make you a proposition. Those of us with families will go with you and help rescue Ryder and Levi, but only in exchange for helping us find a place where we can take our families.”

  “It’s a big country,” snapped Darby, “live wherever you want.”

  Gant was more sympathetic. He knew what they’d had to put up with and now they were facing the same situation he had. They deserved the same chance they’d given him. It wouldn’t be easy starting over. He couldn’t guarantee anything, but perhaps there was another valley somewhere. Then it occurred to him that they may all be getting ahead of themselves. They still had to free Ryder and Levi. It was entirely possible their effort could end in complete failure with many of them not surviving. Then the who
le conversation was moot. On a positive note, he didn’t think that would be the case.

  “Like I told you already, I can’t promise anything, except that I’ll help in any way I can,” offered Gant.

  “Thank you,” replied Jason, “that’s all we ask.” He left to tell the others.

  “What are you doing?” asked Darby in disbelief.

  “They deserve help like anyone else,” stated Gant flatly.

  “Then it’s all on you,” said Darby. “I’ll have no part in it.”

  “But you don’t have a problem with letting them risk their lives to help Ryder and Levi?” stated Gant in an effort to show Darby his inconsistent and selfish thinking.

  Darby began to stammer, obviously attempting to think of a good comeback. “That was your deal. If they help us, maybe we can talk about some kind of help for them.”

  “Okay,” agreed Gant. It didn’t matter what Darby said, he was going to help regardless, he just didn’t know how.

  ***

  Governor Davis anxiously paced back and forth in front of the window overlooking the interior of the compound. It was essentially deserted, with only a single Guard making an infrequent appearance. He had sent most of the troops away on his special mission with only a skeleton crew remaining, those manning the gate, security for himself, and a few to oversee the prisoners and work crews. The workers had never been any trouble and he didn’t expect them to be now. After the Guard had left, he’d ordered the main gate closed and to keep it that way until Damon and the rest of the Guard returned.

  It had been days since they had left and without receiving any kind of report he was becoming anxious. Perhaps it meant things were going well, remembering the old adage ‘no news is good news.’ However, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was extremely vulnerable without the protection he was accustomed to. With only one guard posted outside his door, he kept it closed and locked, just in case.

  Davis tried to relax, telling himself everything was going to be okay. He was unconvincing. He attempted to do paperwork as he sat behind his massive oak desk, but could only manage it for short periods of time before popping back up to look out the window and pace some more. He didn’t like the solitude or the not knowing, beginning to wallow in self-pity. He hadn’t realized until then how much he missed having Damon, his confidant, around.

  He decided to get out of his office before it drove him crazy. Now would be a good time to make a goodwill appearance in front of the workers. It would make him feel better and he was sure they would appreciate him coming down to see them in person on their level.

  “Guard!” he shouted. He waited, but no one came. “Guard!” he repeated louder. He heard the sound of quick footsteps running down the hallway corridor.

  The guard tried the doorknob, but it wouldn’t turn. “Sir, the doors locked!” the guard shouted through the door.

  Davis jumped up, unlocked the door, and swung it open. “Where were you?” demanded the governor.

  “I …”

  “Never mind!” he snapped. “Get my cart and bring it to the front entrance. I’ll be right down.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  If Damon and the Guard were successful in acquiring the valley, this brief time of inconvenience and having to deal with incompetence would be worth it. Davis stepped in front of his full length mirror in his private bath, admiring the way he looked in his executive attire, straightening it and picking off a small piece of lint, letting it drift to the floor. He combed his hair, turning his head from side to side to make sure every hair was in its place. Satisfied that he was presentable, he briskly walked out the door of his office. He proceeded down the corridor to the staircase where he descended to the ground level. Some day he hoped to have enough power to take the elevator. At the main door, just outside, a guard jumped to attention as he came through the door. He was one of the few left behind to prevent unauthorized entry into the building. The governor walked up to him, looking him over, as though he was conducting an impromptu inspection.

  After a few uncomfortable moments, the guard asked, “Anything I can do for you, sir?”

  “Where is my cart?” ordered the governor.

  “Your cart, sir?” asked the guard, making sure he’d heard correctly.

  “That’s right,” Davis confirmed indignantly, “I sent a guard to bring it here.”

  “I don’t know, sir. I’ll check on it right away, sir.” The guard, a recent and young recruit, briskly walked away, not sure where to go to find the alleged ‘cart.’ He’d never seen the governor in a cart. He didn’t know there were any. He spotted another guard, stationed at the freight doors, who directed him to the stable, the former garage. The blacksmith smiled when the guard asked about the ‘cart.’ “It’s coming right now.” The guard initially sent by Davis was driving a golf cart toward them. In large letters stenciled across the front was ‘Governor.’ He stopped in front of them.

  “You’re kidding,” stated the guard.

  “That was my reaction,” said the first guard.

  “Give me a ride back?”

  “Hop in.”

  The guard strapped his rifle to the back of the cart where a bag of golf clubs usually went and then drove back to Governor Davis who was impatiently pacing back and forth, frequently checking his watch as though he was on a tight schedule. Coming to a stop, the guard driving began to jump out so the governor could get behind the wheel. Davis waved for him to sit back down. “You drive and you,” gesturing to the other guard, “you go back to the door.”

  “Where to, sir?” asked the driver.

  Davis leaned forward so he could read the guard’s name patch. “To the front gate, Perkins.”

  “We’re going outside the gate, sir? Without an escort?” asked Perkins.

  “You’re my escort. Now, let’s go.”

  The guard at the gate was shocked when the governor’s cart drove up.

  “Open the gate,” Davis commanded.

  The guard looked at the driver, knowing it wasn’t a good idea.

  The governor quickly lost his patience, becoming angry at the guard’s hesitation. “I said ‘open the gate,’ and I don’t like having to repeat myself.”

  The guard quickly unlocked and slid the gate wide enough for the cart to pass through.

  “Let’s go, Perkins!” urged Davis.

  “Now where, sir?” asked Perkins.

  “Tent City. I’d like to see the workers and let them express their gratitude. I owe them that much.”

  “I’m not so sure that’s …”

  “Perkins, do I need to get another driver?”

  Without hesitation, “No, sir.” He didn’t know what the consequences would have been if he’d been replaced, but he could assume it wouldn’t be good for him. He’d heard what the governor could do.

  “Then, let’s go!”

  They drove to the entrance gate to Tent City where one guard remained on duty, sitting with his feet up, reading a well-worn paperback. He didn’t hear the almost noiseless electric cart approach. There was only the slight sound of its tires on the gravel path. Perkins brought it to a stop in front of the guard before he knew it was even there. Noticing movement in his peripheral vision, he looked up to see the cart with the word ‘Governor’ across the front. He continued his eyes up, startled to see the actual governor sitting in front of him. He almost fell over as his feet became entangled as he struggled to stand.

  He came to attention and saluted. “It’s an honor to see you, sir,” replied the guard.

  “Open the gate, son,” he directed. This guard wasn’t any older than Perkins, observed Davis, suspecting that he must have been another one of Master Peck’s new recruits.

  The guard didn’t hesitate, following the governor’s orders immediately, without question. Davis liked that.

  With the gate open, Davis looked ahead at his unobstructed view down ‘Main Street.’ He could see clear to the other end, with no one in sight. It was totally silent. The onl
y movement was a hint of smoke rising into the air at the far end.

  “Guard, where is everyone?” asked a puzzled Davis.

  “Working in the fields, Governor,” he said with pride.

  The governor looked at his watch. It was 3:00 p.m. He hadn’t thought about everyone being gone, but he couldn’t let the guard or Perkins know. “Good. Just as I expected. Continue on, Perkins. I’d like to see how my workers live.”

  They drove slowly down the dirt ‘street,’ taking in the crowded conditions, the tents almost on top of each other. Near the end of the street, the governor was overtaken by a foul and offensive odor he hadn’t expected. “What is that awful smell?” Davis asked his driver.

  “It’s the latrine and dump, sir. You get used to it.” He pointed to a row of outhouses on one side and a smoldering pit on the other.

  Davis shook his head. “Well, turn around and get us out of here.” As they returned to the gate, “I’m sorry we missed them. I’m sure they’re grateful for having a place to live at all.”

  “Yes, sir,” replied Perkins, sure that grateful was not the right word. He had lived there until his recruitment and he still had family there. He knew what the reality was, but was smart enough to keep it to himself. If he lost his position in the Guard, he‘d no longer be able to smuggle descent food back to his family.

  Perkins nodded to the gate guard as they drove past. The governor didn’t acknowledge him at all, seemingly in deep thought. He remained quiet all the way back through the main gate. Perkins stopped the cart at the main door where he’d first picked up the governor.