Bloody Eden (Soldiers of New Eden Book 2)

by T. L. Knighton

  That meant Milton.

  Jason tried to shake off the last meeting with the man, but it kept nagging at him. Milton wasn't exactly a young man. Was it something about old age that was affecting him?

  By early afternoon, Milton's home was in sight. The old man, now clean shaven, stood on the porch waving his arms over his head and yelling.

  Jason started jogging at first, then burst into a faster run. Everyone easily kept pace.

  As they got close enough, they could hear what Milton was yelling. "Hector! I need you, my boy. You're the doctor, and that's what I need."

  Hector shifted into a full sprint, his long, muscled legs covering the distance in mere moments.

  "Hector's a doctor?" Holliman asked.

  "Graduated med school about two weeks before the war. Won't do more than emergency stuff though. Says it's because he didn't do residency and all that."

  Holliman shrugged as they continued on.

  Jason and company weren't far behind the big man, but Milton paid them no attention. As soon as Hector got to the door, the old man ushered him into the house and out of sight.

  Jason stopped outside the house. "Rick, I need you to keep an eye out here. Something's not right, so be careful, alright?"

  The younger man nodded.

  When Jason got inside, he saw Connie laid on the living room couch. She'd been savagely beaten. Hector knelt beside her, already examining her.

  "Who did this," Jason said, his blood boiling enough that he no longer was worried about what kind of man he was.

  "This asshole named Conklin. He showed up a few weeks ago, looking for some family. I didn't know anything about them. He took Connie with him and left two of his people to keep an eye on me. Said she'd be alright if I cooperated and tell anyone who asked that I didn't know anything about what was going on in Somerton."

  "I take it you did."

  Milton nodded. "Of course I know. Who do you think you're talking to? I'm wired into every state in the continental U.S. Well, what's left of it, anyways. I think it's fair to say that D.C. was wiped off the map. Never have gotten a signal from there."

  "So you knew who Conklin was?"

  "Not at first. No visuals on radio transmissions, you know. But when he said his name, I knew exactly who it was. Oh, indeed I did."

  "Well, that explains my last trip here," Jason muttered.

  "I'm sorry about that, I really am. I couldn't tell you anything directly, but I wanted to try and let you know something wasn't right. That's why I was acting so out of it."

  Jason smiled slightly. "Milton, my man, with you, it's easy to miss signals like that, you know?"

  Milton shrugged. "It's the best I had."

  Hector examined Connie as best he could. "I think she'll be OK so long as we keep fluids in her."

  "I've been using a washcloth to help her drink," Milton said.

  Nodding, Hector said, "Good. Keep doing that until she can do it herself."

  "Milton," Jason interrupted. "What about your radio? Is it still good to go?"

  "Those two bimbos they left here trashed it before they left to go with their friends," he said, the grinned slyly. "Damn good thing they don't know about my backup."

  "Backup?"

  "Oh, hell yes. Got a radio shack hidden. Did it just in case someone ever got froggy about coming up this way."

  Jason smiled. "Nice. We need it."

  "Oh?"

  Holliman stepped forward. "Yes, sir. I need to call some folks back in Somerton and let them know I'm coming home and bringing a whole mess of trouble for Conklin."

  Milton's sly smile shifted into something with far more malevolence. "Oh, well, in that case, wait here. I've got most of the replacement components here in the house. Just got to grab the last couple of things, and we'll be ready to go later today."

  "Beautiful," Jason said.

  "One thing though, Jason my boy."

  "Oh?"

  "Make him pay for hurting Connie."

  "Oh, don't worry. We will."

  ** ** **

  The men moved Connie to the bedroom where she would be more comfortable. She wasn't out of the woods yet, but as close as she could be with what they had to work with, or so Hector had said.

  They sat in the living room. Holliman made his call. Everything was set. Jason excused himself and stepped outside.

  A light rain fell, the drops beating a soothing rhythm on the lush canopy. He'd always had a soft spot for rain. Before the war, a rain storm was an excuse to step out to the porch and listen to the sounds.

  Luckily, Milton had a large porch.

  "Sneaking away, my boy?" Milton said.

  Jason smiled. "Something like that."

  "We've known each other a long time, haven't we, my boy?"

  He nodded. "Yeah, I guess we have," Jason said with a smile.

  "What's bothering you?"

  "You mean besides my wife being killed?"

  "Actually, my boy, I do."

  Jason glared at the older man. "Who says anything's wrong?"

  "Like you've already agreed, we've known each other a long time. You're carrying a lot of guilt at the moment. Anyone who's known you a while can tell."

  "Then how come no one's said anything?" Jason replied. He could feel his face burning as he clinched his fists, his fingernails cutting into the palms.

  "Oh, my boy, any number of reasons. Oh yes, any number of reasons indeed."

  "Such as?"

  "I don't know. Each man's reasons are his own, and no man owes me an explanation to someone like me." He sat down in a chair next to where Jason parked his rear. "It's also possible that none of them realize that it's about more than your wife."

  Jason considered it for a moment. The old man kind of had a point. He'd felt guilty for the attack, but Jess being there had made it bearable. Without her? Wasn't going to happen.

  "What happened?" Milton asked.

  Jason laid out the whole story. He'd told it so many times, he was getting pretty good at it. This time, however, he didn't bother pulling punches about the mistakes he knew McDaniel was making.

  Through it all, Milton sat and listened. He nodded most of the time, stopping occasionally to ask Jason a question for clarification.

  When Jason finished, Milton looked at him. "Well, my boy, it sounds like you screwed the pooch royally."

  Jason rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Milton. I really appreciate that. With friends like you, who needs enemas, right?"

  "Don't you mean enemies?"

  Jason shook his head and smiled. "Nope."

  Milton smiled. "The fun thing is, no matter what happened? I'd have probably gotten to say the same thing."

  "How do you figure?"

  "You were in a bad situation, my boy. Anyone with half a brain could see that. You weren't in charge, so it wasn't your call, even though you knew this McDaniel fellow was wrong. On the other hand, if you'd have done something to take command, what would have happened? Well, it's possible the men's loyalty would have been tested beyond the breaking point, and when you actually made a move, it would have been worse."

  Milton propped his feet on a small stool, built in a similar style to the chairs they occupied. "You're dealing with hindsight, my boy. Of course you're going to know the exact course you should have taken now. The problem is, you're not making the decision in this moment, but back then when things were still murky."

  Jason nodded. It was true, but it didn't alleviate the guilt he felt. "You realize that doesn't actually make me feel better."

  "Of course not. Men died, my boy. Oh, they died indeed, but you have to realize that whether it was your mistake or not, it's irrelevant. If it was your mistake, learn from it. If it wasn't, then move on and quit beating yourself up over it."

  He laughed. "When did you become Yoda?"

  Milton smiled. "How do you know I wasn't the basis for him in the first place?"

  Jason's smile vanished as his eyes widened. Milton was originally from Southern
California, and with his money, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that he'd known George Lucas.

  It was Milton's turn to laugh. "I'm kidding, my boy. Oh, you're such a gullible mark, you know that?"

  He turned serious again. "We've know each other for a while, but have I ever told you what I used to do for a living?"

  Jason considered for a moment. "Figured you were some kind of computer programmer or something."

  Milton shook his head. "Nope. I was a venture capitalist, believe it or not."

  "Really?"

  "Yep. As for why I know these things, it's because I had to accept them myself. Years ago, a few years before the war actually, I'd helped a young company start up. It was going well, and we got an offer from a much bigger company. Mid eight figures. That kind of thing.

  "Well, we sold it. We thought the bigger company would just absorb it. Everyone did. The employees hated to see the bosses leave, but were pretty stoked about working for the big dog. Most of them anyways." Milton sat there, silent.

  "And?" Jason asked.

  "They laid everyone off. Three hundred employees. And this was during a recession, so there weren't other jobs left. Severance packages sucked too.

  "I felt pretty guilty for a while. After all, the guys who started the company? They were technicians. I was the business mind. They were trusting me to steer them right. I blew it. Frankly, I beat myself up over it for a while too."

  "So what did you do?"

  Milton looked at him and smiled. "I just moved on. The next company we sold, I made sure there was a stipulation that the employees had to be in place for eighteen months. I wanted two years, but took what I could get. There were still layoffs after that time expired, but a lot of them stayed on too."

  Milton put a comforting hand on Jason's shoulder. "The thing is, learn from what happened, but don't let it tear you up. You do that, you're no good to anyone. You won't avenge you wife, my boy, and you won't make them pay for what they did to my Connie. Oh no, you won't. All you'll do is be another notch in Conklin's belt."

  Jason nodded. Much as he hated to admit it, the old man made some sense.

  ** ** **

  Plans were finalized. It was time to go. Hector had already left, taking a handheld radio with him toward New Eden. Normally, Milton was reluctant to let any of his gear leave his possession, but once Hector mentioned that he could have gotten to Connie earlier had we known, the old man couldn't move fast enough to grab a handheld.

  Jason, Rick, and Holliman headed out a different way. Milton knew his property was being watched. He had the bastards on camera, so he knew exactly where they were. He could only imagine that there were guards watching New Eden as well.

  "So, how do we want to do this," Rick asks as they walked across the poorly manicured yard back in the direction of New Eden.

  "We know where they're at, and we could use a bit more info. I say we pay them a little visit."

  Rick's malevolent grin would have chilled Jason to the bone…if he hadn't had a matching one of his own.

  Once safely hidden by the surrounding forest, Jason pulled out Billy's "surprise" that was wrapped in a burlap bag. Jason pulled it out, his grin growing even wider.

  He quickly affixed the black suppressor to his AR-15 and showed Rick how to do the same.

  Jason instructed Holliman to wait there while he and Rick worked their way through the dense brush toward the location Milton said his camera was situated. A slow pace was made even slower as the two men carefully picked their way through the brambles and brush.

  Jason felt like hours had passed while they worked their way through nature's obstacle course, but he didn't worry too much about it. Time wasn't their most pressing concern right then.

  Rick walked ahead of him, his rifle at the read. He threw up his right fist, motioning to stop.

  Carefully, Jason worked his way toward his son. "Whatcha got?" he whispered.

  The younger man nodded forward. Jason look, seeing three men in Somerton black.

  "You're the better long gun shooter," Rick whispered.

  Jason nodded and brought his rifle to his shoulder. The shot wasn't particularly long, just inside of a hundred yards, but the wind was starting to pick up. In all his shooting before the war, long distance precision shooting hadn't been something he'd worried about. Classes like that dealt with adjusting for the wind. Instead, he'd focused on learning how to shoot people in the face when he could actually see that face.

  Well, it's always a good time to experience new things, I guess.

  Jason looked down the ACOG scope. They were tough and reliable, but old. Luckily, they just dimmed with age and he could still aim just fine.

  He knew the key would be to take at least one down where no one would know. Jason settled in for a long wait.

  Several minutes passed when one of the Somerton men stood and walked away. Jason trailed him, keeping the scope on him as he wove his own way through the trees.

  Taking a leak. Tsk, tsk. Sucks when you do that and don't realize what's around you. Poor situational awareness can kill ya.

  The man stood with his back to Jason. As he unzipped his pants, Jason carefully squeezed the trigger.

  The suppressor muffled the sound of the 5.56 round as he flew through the air, a supersonic crack the only noise marking its travel.

  THWACK.

  The round slammed into the back of the Somerton man's head, a red mist painting the tree in had been standing in front of just a moment earlier.

  Jason swung the rifle toward the observation post. The two remaining men had apparently heard the crack of the round as it broke the speed of sound, but had no clue what they'd heard. Jason put on a predatory grin as he settled the ACOG's retacle on the next man.

  Based on the man's body language, Jason figured he was in charge. There was the possibility of taking this man prisoner, as he likely had some valuable intelligence. Of course, Jason had Holliman, so he was covered on intelligence. Besides, and really more importantly, he didn't see any reason why the enemy would surrender.

  Another squeeze of the trigger sent another round down range. The man collapsed right where he was.

  That leaves one.

  Jason scanned the general area of the OP, desperate to find the remaining soldier. Great. The bastard figured out what was going on. Just not my day, is it?

  "We've got you surrounded," Rick called out. Jason looked up, meeting his son's eye. The younger man winked and grinned. Rick went back to looking at the OP. "Surrender now, and you'll be treated fairly."

  A blond head popped up. "Fuck you!" he yelled defiantly.

  "Fair enough," Jason muttered as he aimed and squeezed the trigger a third time.

  ** ** **

  Rick went to fetch Holliman while Jason checked the bodies. A radio was there, but he saw no evidence of it having been used since it was still sitting in a pouch on the "leader's" belt.

  "Find anything?" Rick asked as he approached.

  "Radio."

  "Nice. That should keep you in the loop on whatever Conklin's got going on," Holliman said.

  "He always use the same channel?" Jason asked.

  Holliman shook his head. "Nah. He uses a few, but that radio should access all of them"

  "Good. I'll be damned if I go in blind again."

  Rick grinned. "Maybe it'll tell us where to find his ass when we get there. Make taking him out a simple matter."

  Jason turned to Holliman. "How much range does one of these have?"

  "Few miles, tops. Why?"

  "Didn't look like the last guy down made a move for it. I wondered why. Guess he knew it didn't have the range."

  Holliman nodded. "Most likely. Probably had it for communicating with relief or extraction teams."

  "When would they show up?" Rick asked.

  Holliman shook his head. "No clue. It varies based on the mission. Hell, they might have just had a set time period to keep an eye on stuff here"

  Rick cursed
under his breath. "They're going to know we're coming."

  Jason shook his head. "Doubtful."

  The younger man peered at his father quizzically.

  "It's still kind of the Wild West out here. Towns tend to be safe, but the spaces between? They're No Man's Land. People get zapped all the time. We just need to hide the bodies."

  Holliman raised his hand, as if asking a question in school. "Um, what about Milton? Why wouldn't they hit his place?"

  Jason smiled. "If there aren't bodies here, they won't know when they were hit."

  "And if they're supposed to wait for relief?"

  "Bad things happen. Milton's smart. He'll think of something to tell them. Probably something better than we'd come up with."

  The two men nodded.

  "Alright, boys," Jason said, forcing his voice to sound more confident than he felt. "We've got a long damn way to go, and we've eaten a lot of daylight. Let's get a move on."

  The three men moved out, heading west by northwest, rather than making a beeline toward Conklin and Somerton.

  Chapter 12

  The small settlement before them consisted of pre-war houses, all neatly arranged around a looping road and surrounded by a brick wall. An iron gate, more ornamental than functional, provided the only easy access in and out of what Jason figured was a housing development.

  As the three men approached the gate, an old sign welcomed them to Warrington Manor.

  Holliman noticed Jason's gaze and laughed.

  "Yeah, that's what they called this place before the war. Not so much now."

  "Oh?" Rick asked. "What do they call it now?"

  "Mormonville," Holliman asked.

  "And the reason for that?" Jason asked.

  "Because it's full of Mormons."

  "Really?"

  "Yep. Back before the war, the guy who developed this place finished it up right about the time that those Mormon fundamentalists tried to blow up the federal courthouse in Salt Lake City."

  "I remember that. No one really got that those guys and regular Mormons weren't one in the same."

  Holliman nodded. "Pretty much. Well, Jimmy Warrington developed it, but he was holding on by a thread. No one wanted to build here because he was a Mormon. Pretty outspoken one too.