Ever Onward

by Wayne Mee

  “There’s no need for alarm,” Doc said to the young woman. “Probably just somebody coming back from shopping in town and forgot to unhook the alarm. Might even be the wind.”

  Willard shook his head. “Aint the wind. I watched Saddy close them tight when we passed through.”

  The little Turk nodded agreement.

  Doc frowned at the tall farmer, then turned to Tom Leeson. “Tom, its probably a waist of time, but would you and a couple of the men go and check?”

  Tom nodded and stood up. The boys, Kenneth and Jessie made to rise, but Brad shook his head. The hound, Og, looked up expectantly, but settled back down on the porch with the boys. Tom, Fred Perkins and Sadat headed down the road. The little Turk was the only one not carrying a rifle. They hadn’t gotten thirty feet, however, when they saw the line of lights rapidly approaching. All three stopped in their tracks.

  “Get back here!”, Brad yelled. “Everyone, into the house! Kenneth, sound the alarm!”

  As the porch cleared, Gus Kenner, the old lobsterman Josh had brought back from Main, caught hold of Brad’s arm. “Where’s Cobb?”

  Brad looked at the plump, balding old man. “Probably up at the boathouse. Jenny’s been cooking for him lately. Why?”

  Gus nodded towards the fast approaching lights. “He’s an ex-soldier. We might need him.”

  Brad turned to Kenneth and Jessie. “Get Cobb.”

  Both boys leapt into the night, Og running at their heels.

  Standing beside the idling jeep, One Arm shouted through a bullhorn, his voice distorted, sounding more than a little like Darth Vader. “Come out with your hands up and you will not be harmed! Try to fight us and you’re all dead meat! You have one minute to decide!”

  Like the jeep, the two cars on either side of him had their lights trained on the front of the big house. The garbage truck, parked off to one side, looked like a dark, wooly mammoth, tusks upturned and ready to charge. Pete the Prick, Straw Hair, Raoul and the others waited anxiously down the line, each one of them fondling his favorite weapon.

  Rambo came up beside One Arm, holding a short, slender tube. Grinning around his scarred face, he extended the tube, flicked up the rear sight and lifted the Laws Rocket to his shoulder.

  The seconds ticked away.

  Straw had gotten to thirty-nine when the rocket went off. There was a sudden coughing sound. Fire belched out of both ends of the tube and the mini-rocket streaked off towards the house. Rambo’s aim, though not yet fully accustomed to being one-eyed, still managed to strike the upper story of the building. The resulting explosion blew out the dormer windows and took a good part of the roof with it. Flaming timber and shingles rained down. The grass of the yard began to burn.

  “Kee-riste!”, someone exclaimed. “That should bring them out!”

  What it brought was a volley of gunfire from the main floor. The attackers scrambled back behind their cars, trading shots as they went. One of them was dead on the ground and two others had been wounded.

  Inside the house Brad had half of them keep firing while the other half fought the flames. It was clear to all, however, that they had to get out soon or not get out at all.

  “The back door!”, Doc Gruber cried. “Quick, before the roof falls in!”

  Brad nodded and all ran for the kitchen. At the back door Mrs. Wang was signing to Mai-Ling, her mute granddaughter, to stay close. Plump Thelma Wiggs took the wide-eyed girl under her ample arm and Doc Gruber ushered them all out into the night. The rest followed.

  They hadn’t gotten thirty feet when part of the roof did collapse. Smoke and sparks spiraled up into the summer night. One Arm’s jeep and another car tore around to the back of the burning building. Shouting followed, then shots. Someone cried out and fell. Tome Leeson, running beside Brad, was hit and sprawled on the grass. Brad tried to pull him to his feet but saw the back half of Tom’s head was blown away. Automatic fire began to rake across the field. Up ahead a woman screamed. Brad looked up in time to see Thelma Wiggs fall to her knees. Cursing, he turned and fired his handgun at the approaching vehicles, his Glock Compact’s 9 mm. slugs sounding like angry bees. The left light of the car went out. One Arm’s jeep suddenly swerved, clipped a parked car and came to an abrupt stop. Brad, down on one knee, continued to fire till the Glock ran dry. Suddenly Willard was tugging at his arm. There was blood on the large farmer’s face. “Come on, Brad! Into the trees!”

  Then a loud rumble reached their ears. Wide-eyed, they watched as the massive garbage truck smashed through the burning side of the building and continue on straight for them, chunks of flaming wood caught in its long forks. Willard yanked Brad to his feet and they ran.

  Behind the wheel of the big truck, Rambo grinned. The flames turned his scarred face into a demon’s mask. Stomping down on the accelerator, he aimed his deadly beast at the two running men. Then the windshield suddenly shattered, spraying him with glass. His one eye momentarily blinded, he groped for the door handle, thrust it wide and jumped. The truck swerved to the left, flattened a small pump house and slammed into an ancient pine, its rear wheels churning up the sod.

  Back at the jeep the man beside One Arm suddenly spun around and fell at his leader’s feet. One Arm saw a large hole in the man’s chest. A moment later a heavy caliber bullet slammed into the hood of the car he was hiding behind. He dropped to the ground a second before another blew out both side windows.

  “Get that asshole!”, he screamed.

  A bearded man named Sal turned and yelled: “What asshole?” Before One Arm could reply, Sal was on his ass in the grass, looking down at his intestines. He only got a quick glance, however, for another shot hit him right between the eyes.

  Rambo was up and running; a red blur filling his good eye, a red rage filling his heart.“Bastards!”, he cursed. “Fucking bastards!” He reached the back of his jeep and fumbled for the heavy Heckler & Koch Rotating Machinegun. Tossing the belt of armor-piercing shells over his shoulder, he hefted the large gun, its weight feeling like a lover in his arms.

  “Soup’s on!”, he growled.

  One Arm crawled over to him, sweat and fear glistening on his stubbled face. “I saw a muzzle flash! Up there by those trees to the right!”

  Rambo grinned into the darkness. The blaze behind them cast its hellish flames over the cluster of pines two hundred feet in front of the jeep. As they watched they saw several more flashes. Two small and one big. Off to the left another of their men went down.

  The H & K began to speak, its voice a throaty roar. Tracer bullets streaked off into the night, striking the grove of pines and ripping it asunder. Bark flew, branches fell and trunks split. The smell of burnt cordite mingled with ashes and soot. One Arm giggled like a demented fool as Rambo sprayed out his rain of death.

  In the trees, Cobb shoved both boys to the ground and covered them with his own body. Luckily they were in a slight depression. The whine of the tracer shells roared by just inches above his head. The hound, Og, lay trembling beside him. Branches fell. The pine needles caught fire. The barrage seemed to last forever. When at last it was over, Cobb rolled off the boys and grabbed his M-4 Carbine. Clearing dirt from the night-scope, he crept to the lip of the depression and peered through. What he saw made him groan out loud. Two men in an open truck were racing towards a knot of people being herded along by several armed men!

  “What is it?”, Jessie demanded. Kenneth, his ears still ringing, knelt beside him.

  “They’ve captured a bunch of us,” Cobb said.

  “My dad?!”, Kenneth shouted.

  “No. Mostly women.”

  “Shoot the bastards!”, Kenneth yelled.

  Cobb turned and looked at the young men. “Their too close together now for a clear shot. Moving around too much. We’ll have to wait.”

  Kenneth’s face twisted into an angry grimace. “Wait, hell! Mai-Lings out there!” Then he was up and running, his .22 target pistol in his hand. Jessie went to follow but Cobb pulled him back.

>   “Let me go! I can’t let Ken ---!”

  “You can’t help him now!”, Cobb hissed.

  Jessie continued to struggle and Cobb hit him. The youth sagged back, unconscious. Cobb hefted his carbine and sought a clear target as Kenneth continued to run towards the large group now being herded into the truck..

  Bobby Stewart and Gloria Ambrose had been out for a little romantic paddle in the lake when the shooting started. By the time they were half-way back the main house was on fire. Gloria groaned and Bobby cursed, then they both doubled their efforts to reach shore.

  “Are you armed?”, Bobby yelled.

  Gloria, dressed in her best summer dress, one she hoped Bobby would find attractive, shook her head.

  Bobby swore again. He had his .357, but by the sound of it, whoever was attacking the main house was using bloody cannons! Grounding the canoe on the beach, Bobby was out and running before Gloria was even standing.

  “Bob-eee!”, she yelled.

  “Ah, shit!”, Bobby exclaimed, running back and taking her hand. Ever since Trina had made it clear that she was more interested in Eddy than she was in him, Bobby had been down in the dumps. Then, about a week ago, he noticed that the scraggly punk with the shaved head wasn’t looking so scraggly. Mrs. Wang had taken her under her wing and Thelma Wiggs had gotten her interested in dressmaking. She’d washed the pink shit out of her hair and put on a little weight. To Bobby’s way of thinking, in all the right places too! One night last week he’d ‘asked her out for a walk’. They’d been hanging out ever since. He hadn’t gotten too far; just copped a feel a few times, but nothing more. Tonight was going to be the night. After the canoe ride in the moonlight, Bashful Bobby was planning to make his move.

  Now this shit!

  “Alright, come on!”, he said, pulling her up the bank. “But stay close behind me!”

  As they ran through the trees they could see the main house going up like a torch. In the field between them and the fire, Bobby saw a group of people clustered around a large open truck. He was too far way to make them all out, but he did recognize Doc’s gray hair and Mrs. Wang’s slight form. Mai-Ling was also there, along with several other women. Armed men were shoving them into the back of the vehicle.

  Then he saw someone break from what was left of a smoldering grove of pines and run right at the bunch. Whoever it was was yelling and waving a gun.

  “Kenneth!”

  “What?”, Gloria asked.

  Bobby dropped her hand and started sprinting to intercept the young fool. He almost made it. With only five yards between them, Kenneth suddenly threw his arms up in the air and fell. Unaware of the bullets flying all around him, Bobby dropped to his knees and cradled Kenneth’s head in his arms. He’d been hit in the chest several times.

  “Oh, Christ!”, he moaned, rocking the dead boy, clutching his lifeless body, speaking to him like a mother would her child. “Oh, you’ve done it now! What’s Brad going to say? And Mr. Williams?! He told me to look after the both of you!”

  Then someone screamed. A girl’s voice. Gloria! He turned in time to see two men dragging her back toward the others. She must have followed him! He fumbled for his gun. Like someone caught in a dream gone sour, he brought the heavy weapon up. Too fucking close! a voice inside his head screamed. He fired anyway. Over their heads to scare them away.

  It didn’t. Hearing a sound, he turned in time to see two others running toward him. As he raised his gun, one of their heads suddenly exploded. The sight shocked him. “This can’t be happening!”, he muttered.

  Then the second man was on him. Something heavy slammed against his ear and the lights went out. The nightmare, however, was far from over.

  In a corner of the Old Mill, Jenny Hiller cringed in terror, trying to get away from the two men who now pawed and slapped her. The one with hair the color of moldy straw held her arms while the other groped insider her blouse. Curled up on the floor, her mind turned inward, seeking a place far away from this terrible reality.

  After leaving Cobb’s place over the boathouse, Jenny had taken a walk along the stream. She needed to be alone; to think things through. She’d been attracted to the handsome stranger ever since Cobb joined the community; hanging around him, asking him questions. She’d even started cooking for him now and then. He’d been polite, but nothing more. At supper tonight she’d finally made her feelings clear.

  So had he. ‘Thanks, but no thanks.’

  Oh, he hadn’t used those exact words. He’d sighed and patted her hand and mumbled something about a ‘wife and kids’ and how the ‘memories were still too fresh’. Hell! Did he think that he was the only one who had ever lost someone? What about her? The memory of waking up in her parents’ house and finding them both crumpled heaps in their bed still haunted her!

  “But that’s all the more reason for us to cling together!”, she had told him. “In a world gone crazy, that’s all we really have left!”

  He’d smiled and turned away. “Maybe later. Right now it’s just too soon.”

  Jenny had left then, trying unsuccessfully to hold back the tears. The lights of the mill had drawn her and the sound of the stream had soothed her --- until the shooting started. In a kind of waking nightmare she had watched the Main House go up in flames, then she’d ran into the mill. Gustoph Muller, the German baker who ran the mill, was lying on the floor in a pool of blood. Then two men had stepped out of the shadows.

  Straw Hair giggled as Vince ripped away her bra. “Nice jugs!” Vince grunted, warming to his work. Jenny retreated further and further. After the double rape, the two men briefly debated what to do with her. Straw was for cutting her throat, but Vince wanted to bring her along.

  “After all,” he reasoned. “One Arm said he wanted all the young cunts alive. Trade goods. Besides, I think I’m in love.”

  They both laughed, Staw’s giggle high and wild.

  “Okay, but I get first dibs on her!”

  Vince winked. “Stand in line, buddy-boy. Stand in line.”

  Together they dragged the almost comatose girl out of the mill. Behind them Gustave Muler groaned and rolled on his side.

  “What a royal fuck-up!”, One Arm snarled. Clutching Mai-Ling to him as a shield, he looked around and saw that half of his men were missing. They had a bunch of prisoners, mostly women, but someone was still killing anyone fool enough to be caught out in the open.

  “Get the women loaded!”, Rambo yelled, keeping Betty Sinclair between himself and the half leveled pine grove.

  Doc Gruber stepped up to him.

  “You can’t do this!”

  “Ya? And who-the-fuck’s going to stop me? You?” Without a warning he slammed his .45 into the side of Doc’s head. The old man sank to the ground like a stone. Betty turned and clawed at his face. Rambo, grabbing her shoulder, held her at arms length and shot her in the head. At the same time Mrs. Wang broke away from her captor and rushed towards her granddaughter. The frail old lady was picked up and roughly shoved to the ground. Sobbing, she crawled towards Doc’s unconscious form.

  “You heard him!”, One Arm roared, kicking Mrs. Wang in the ribs and shoving Mai-Ling into the back of the jeep. “Get ‘em loaded!”

  As Gloria was pushed into the back of a truck, she lashed out with her foot, catching her bearded captor in the chin. He staggered back, giving Cobb a clear shot. Cobb didn’t miss. Gloria was over the truck’s side in an instant. She had disappeared into the night just as Vince and Straw Hair, dragging Jenny Hiller between them, reached the group. As they dumped Jenny in the front of the jeep, Vince suddenly pitched forward, a large hole blown through his chest. The driver of the truck leaned out the window and wanted to know ‘what the fuck was taking so long?!’ Cobb gave him an answer in the form of a bullet through the neck.The hollow point round punched the driver back into the cab, leaving a rather startled yet somewhatwhimsical look on his face.

  One Arm swore and scrambled into his jeep. Still holding Betty’s dead body, Rambo fired
blindly into the night. When the .45’s clip was empty, he let the girl slide to the ground and jumped in with One Arm, squeezing Jenny between them Mai-Ling lay bound and terrified in the back. One Arm sped off into the night, the two remaining cars right behind them. Once past the burning building, the darkness swallowed them up.

  Those left behind looked around in stunned silence.

  Chapter 35: ‘THE SEARCHERS’

  Mount Hawthorn

  New York State

  August 18th

  Doc Gruber, his face swollen from where Rambo had hit him, downed his drink. “You’ll both probably get yourselves killed, you know that?”

  Cobb sat staring out at the lake, his own drink untouched. It was a dull, grey dawn, suitable to his mood. Bobby, nursing a large bruise of his own, sat on the edge of his chair.

  Doc turned to Cobb. “You were a policeman. You know the danger of confronting these killers. Hell, we don’t even know what direction they went!”

  Cobb looked at the kindly old man. “The garbage truck has ‘City of Plattsburg’ on it. The man I interrogated said they have a base there.”

  Doc sighed deeply. “Well then, I suppose you must go. But just the two of you? If you took more men ---”

  “They’d only slow us down,” Cobb put in. “Besides, there’s not many left to take.”

  “What about Brad? I gave him a sedative, but when he wakes up...”

  Again Cobb cut the older man off. “Brad’s got a bullet in his shoulder. Besides, he’s needed here. Along with Josh, the two of you are what holds this community together.”

  Doc nodded sadly. “I just wish Josh was here.”