Paths of Righteousness

by Ryan King

"No, thanks though," David hollered back while walking faster.

  "Hey, what did you say your friend's name was?" Tony called.

  David opened the door and stepped through. "Thanks," he yelled. He pulled the handkerchief away from his face and sucked in air. The smell in the arena had seemed nearly overwhelming from outside, but after being in the room where their cooked urine and feces down, the petrol smell was like roses. He walked around the top of the bleachers and out the door he had entered earlier.

  It didn't take him long to make it to the rendezvous spot. They had decided upon the campus diner because it was someplace everyone could loiter without drawing too much attention. It was also within radio range of the arena.

  David stepped through the front door. He immediately saw Trevor in the far right corner with an iced tea, doing what looked like math homework. Jonah sat close to the front, eating potato wedges. Conner stared at him nervously from a booth to David's left. David walked past Connor and sat at another booth, pulling out a worn, well-read Neal Stephenson paperback.

  Suddenly Connor was sitting across from him.

  "What the hell are you doing?" asked David.

  Conner reached out and grasped one of David's hands. "Don't do it."

  David pulled away. "We're on a mission, get yourself together."

  "Don't do it," repeated Connor. "Not right now, at least. That building is filled with students. Forty pounds of plastic will take out most of the surrounding buildings. Combine that with all the gunpowder and oil and no telling how many hundreds will die."

  "Keep your voice down," whispered David looking around. "We already went over this. They are making the gunpowder used to kill our men. That gasoline will power their vehicles, be used to defeat us and hurt our families. You knew all this when you agreed to come along. No one twisted your arm, Connor."

  "I know that," Connor hissed, "but this too much. Too many innocents will die."

  "What are you saying?" asked David. "We just abandon the mission now that we're so close?"

  Connor's face looked hopeful. "No, we just get them to evacuate the building and surrounding area. We could make a bomb threat somehow or pull a fire alarm or something."

  David shook his head. "Too risky. They could discover and defuse the packages. We stick to the plan."

  "Come on, David. This is us. Out here. We work together and figure things out."

  "No we don't," said David carefully sliding the walkie talkie from his bag and into his lap. The other three each carried a similar device, but they were only to be used if David failed to show.

  "Please, David," said Connor. "Can't we talk about this?"

  "There's nothing to talk about," answered David.

  Connor pulled a silenced pistol from under the table and pointed it at David's chest. "Put that on the table and slide it over to me."

  David didn't move. "If I don't push, then Trevor or Jonah will."

  He looked back at both men who hadn't yet seen what was happening. "I'll talk to them. They'll see reason."

  "Is that a gun?" asked a girl with long blond hair at the counter.

  Others in the diner turned and saw Connor pointing the pistol at David. There were gasps and several people moved away.

  "It's okay," stammered Connor. "This man is a terrorist. He's getting ready to blow up the campus." He turned back to David. "On the table. Now."

  David slowly lifted the device and set it in front of him, but didn't remove his hand. "You don't want to do this," he said.

  "That's my line," said Connor. "We're soldiers; we don't kill civilians."

  "We're soldiers," answered David. "We do what we must." He pressed the send button on the walkie talkie.

  For a fraction of a second there was nothing. Connor's eyes widened in amazement as he looked at David. Then there was a low deep rumble in the distance. The windows of the diner blew inward in a hurricane of glass.

  David and Connor were blown into each other and they scrambled for the pistol. Connor got a hold of the gun, but David grasped both the man's hands and twisted until the pistol popped free. He smashed the butt of the weapon into Connor's face.

  Jonah and Trevor were there pulling him to his feet. "Come on, we have to go." They reached down to help Connor up.

  "Leave him," said David.

  "What?" they both said in near unison.

  "He tried to compromise the op," David explained. "We can't trust him."

  "Shouldn't we take him with us, though?" asked Trevor.

  "He'll give us away," said David. "You two go outside, I'll be there in a minute."

  "But, David –" began Jonah.

  "I'll be along in a second," David said softly. "Now go outside."

  After a brief hesitation, both men obeyed David.

  He turned back to look down at Connor's bleeding body. He pointed the pistol at the man's face.

  "You won't do it," Connor rasped. "You won't kill one of your own men. Your friend."

  David stared at him before answering. "Connor, you just saw me murder hundreds of innocent people out of necessity. For a greater good. What makes you think I won't kill you?"

  Connor's eyes widened in realization and fear.

  The pistol made a nearly inaudible pop.

  David turned and walked out the front of the diner where burning ash flakes fell among the churning snow.

  Chapter 7 - The Crossing

  Susan Rivera and the Creek Indians traveled slowly southeast. What little gasoline remained they reserved for the generators while most of the people walked or road horses. The snow had stopped the day before yesterday, allowing the vast flocks of sheep, goats, and cows they had accumulated to graze.

  Susan turned in her saddle to look back at the long thin ribbon of makeshift wagons and trailers pulled by horses, many of them caught by her own hand. Riders with rifles flanked the column on either side while the herds brought up the rear. Susan and Jasper were in the advance party with the radiation detectors.

  They were aiming to hit a window between the radiation belt around Saint Louis and that of Chicago, which meant crossing the Mississippi River soon. Susan pulled out her map again and studied it. It was hard to believe this whole entourage was following her.

  Billy Fox rode up beside her. "Lost again?"

  She snorted. "I'm not lost. We're actually getting close. Burlington should only be a few more miles away."

  "And we can cross the river there?"

  Susan shrugged. "Should be able to. The map shows a bridge across the river and Burlington is too small to have gotten a nuke. It's also far enough away from any big cities."

  "Radiation levels?"

  Susan looked at the meter reflexively, although she knew everything was within acceptable amounts. They occasionally found it necessary to go around bodies of water with radiation readings bordering on dangerous for the animals, but other than those detours, the levels had been safe. "We're fine," she answered.

  "Okay," Jimmy said looking back on the caravan. "I'll send some men up since we're close. It's best to be ready for anything."

  Susan thought about protesting, then she simply nodded. There had been several shots fired at them so far. Fortunately, they were a large group that wasn't short firearms.

  Her attention was distracted by a small column of smoke rising out of the ground far off to her right. She had been seeing more and more of these. Desperate people driven from shelter had taken to digging holes in the ground and living in them. Those were more secure from gangs of ravaging murderers and provided some warmth.This is what we have come to, she thought.Living out of holes in the ground like animals.

  She saw Jasper galloping up to her from over the hill to their front. He reined up and then guided the mare close to a gait beside Susan's horse. She had noticed that after a few days traveling Jasper's dark brooding evaporated. Maybe constant activity gave him a distraction, somewhere to focus other than clinging to what he had lost.

  "It's just over that rise," he too
k a drink from his canteen.

  "How does it look?"

  "Not too bad," he answered. "The bridge is still there. Looks like one of those old steel covered things that trains used to go through, but it's still standing."

  "And Burlington?" she asked.

  "Could be a problem," he answered checking his rifle.

  "How's that? Burned down like Lewiston?"

  "No, it's still standing, but it's fortified," he said. "I could see men on the walls and at gates through the binoculars. Looks like they pulled everyone back into a perimeter they could defend and then burned the outskirts of the town."

  "Pretty smart," she said.

  "Yes, but people who are buttoned up all safe and cozy aren't likely to let in an armed Indian horde."

  Susan looked behind her again. They did resemble an invading army. Don Stone and his men were riding up to them.

  "Jimmy said we're close," Don said.

  "Just over that rise," said Jasper. "We won't be able to just walk on through to the bridge."

  "Let's go check it out," Don said quickly and he and his men raced off over the hill.

  "Did the guards at Burlington spot you?" Susan asked.

  "Sure," he answered. "I wasn't trying to be sneaky. Didn't think we was going to try to storm the walls at night."

  Susan sighed. "I'm just imagining the stir we might be causing in there now."

  "Hopefully they don't get it into their head to come out in force," said Jasper. "Otherwise it'll be Kincade all over again."

  Susan shuddered thinking of that field of dead men and women. "I'll go get Billy. We need to get up there and talk to them before they start coming up with rash plans." Without waiting for a reply she galloped back toward the main party and easily picked out the Creek chief. After she briefly explained her reasoning, he agreed to accompany her to the town.

  Jasper fell in with them and they soon crested the hill. Susan looked down on a long slope that spread out for miles before it was cut off abruptly by the wide Mississippi. She guessed this plain had seasonally flooded from time immortal. Below them stood a large group of buildings with a makeshift wall around it. A bell was ringing loudly inside and she could see people herding livestock through the relics of burned buildings and into the town's front gate. While they watched the scurry, Don and six riders joined them.

  "Bet this sort of thing makes you redskins nostalgic," said Jasper.

  Don laughed. "Indians didn't sack cities. You must be thinking of Mongols or Tartars or something."

  "Oh," Jasper sounded disappointed.

  "That town is sealed," said Don. "No way we can get in there."

  "We don't need to get in there," said Billy. "We just want to go over the bridge."

  "The town controls the bridge," Don said. "We rode around to the side, those walls go right down into the water. You have to get into the town to get over the bridge."

  "Can we go around somehow?" Jimmy asked Susan.

  She had already been thinking the same thing. "We could try to go a little further south. There's likely bridges we could use, but the weather's getting worse and I'd rather not risk it. We need to get over the river and turn south."

  Jimmy nodded. "Okay then. Let's go talk to them."

  They rode silently for nearly a half hour until they could make out the faces of the men on the wall. Several of them pointed rifles in their direction.

  "That's far enough," came a cry from the town. "State your business."

  "We want to cross the bridge," Jimmy yelled back.

  A long pause. "Okay. Wait while I go get the Toll Master."

  "Oh, hell," said Don. "This is going to cost us."

  "I'm fine with that," said Billy. "It's better than having to pay in blood."

  About ten minutes later a thin bald man looked over the wall at them. He conducted a brief conversation with the guard who had talked to them earlier and then the guard yelled at them. "He says come closer so he doesn't have to holler."

  "You're not going to shoot are you?" asked Don.

  "Not if you don't," said the guard.

  "I think we're off to a great start," said Jasper.

  They rode forward until they were only about twenty feet from the barricade. Susan could see it was mainly walls of buildings reinforced by old car hoods, makeshift concrete walls, and rubble. Nevertheless, it appeared formidable enough.

  The bald man looked them over carefully before speaking. "These are the terms. I see you have horses. You give us one good horse and then you get to cross. No monkey business. You go around to the gate by the water, surrender your weapons, and you'll get them on the other side. A nice clean transaction."

  "I ain't giving up my weapons," said Jasper.

  "One horse doesn't sound too bad," said Don.

  The bald man chuckled. "One horse is a bargain. You won't get a..." His eyes grew wide as he looked over their heads.

  Susan turned and saw their main party cresting the hill. Wagons, riders, and livestock poured over the hill.

  "You were saying," said Jasper.

  "They with you?" the bald man asked incredulously.

  "Hell, no," said Don. "We're being chased by a herd of sheep and goats. Let us in quick before they catch us."

  The man's eyes widened as he took in the flocks and people as they flowed into the plain. Finally he looked back at them and seemed to gather his composure. "Twenty horses, fifty goats, and a hundred sheep."

  "What the hell?" said Don.

  Billy remained impassive. "Five horses, ten goats, and twenty sheep. And we pick them."

  "And get to keep our weapons," said Jasper.

  The bald man chuckled. "No, no, no, but I can see you like to bargain. Why don't we say ten horses, thirty goats, and fifty sheep.I pick 'em and you'll get your weapons on the far side of the river. You have my word."

  Billy looked at him and then around behind him before turning back. "Actually, this is a nice spot," he said. "We can graze our flocks in this plain here and put out wagons and tents on that hill. Good place to ride out the winter. I think we'll stay awhile"

  "Okay, okay," said the bald man. "Seven horses, fifteen goats, and thirty sheep."

  "We pick 'em?"

  The bald man sighed. "Yes...but you better not give us a bunch of dregs or lame horses."

  "Wouldn't think of it," said Billy. "We'll be hanging onto our weapons too."

  The man looked nervous and glanced at the guard. "Look here mister. These people have been through a lot. Don't want to spook them, no telling what could happen. Not having weapons is more for your safety than ours."

  "What if we put them away," suggested Billy. "We'll keep them out of sight and won't touch them. You havemy word on that."

  The Toll Master thought for a moment and then seemed to make up his mind. "Done. You've got three hours before sundown. I'd appreciate it if you were already across before then. We barricade the bridge at night."

  "You had problems?" asked Susan.

  "Miss, you could say that. Just be careful over in Illinois. From what I understand it's not civilized like Iowa."

  "Appreciate the warning," said Don. "Now can we get the hell out of here?"

  *******

  They made it across the river just as the last rays of the sun were sinking below the western horizon. On the far side the Creek quickly formed their carts into a protective circle with the horses in the middle. They strung quick makeshift fence lines to corral the sheep and goats, but mostly relied on the numerous herding dogs to guard them at night.

  While crossing the bridge, Susan had seen a small waif of a girl sitting cross-legged against the railing. She wore rags and amazingly bare feet in the freezing temperatures. Ragged hair covered a husk of a body that couldn't hide protruding bones.

  The girl happened to look up as Susan rode past. Her green eyes seemed to hold some deeper meaning. Without thinking, Susan reached into her saddlebag and pulled out a bundle of venison jerky and tossed it to the girl, who didn'
t even move as the bundle dropped into her lap. Susan kept riding and when she looked back the girl was gone.

  Now she had fed and rubbed down her horse and put it in with the herd to keep warm by the rest of the horses during the night. The body heat would also help warm the carts that surrounded them. As guests of the tribe, Susan and Jasper slept in Billy Fox's large cart with his wife and three children. The cart was made from the bed of a large camper pickup truck and reasonably comfortable to sleep in being covered in layers of carpet and sealed with insulation. All she wanted to do was go to sleep.

  The inside of the cart was quiet. Jimmy's wife Sonya had cooked them all stew and after a long day's walk and a full belly, everyone's eyes were heavy. Suddenly the door opened, letting in a gust of cold wind. Jasper stood there.

  "You're going to want to see this," he said.

  "Whatever it is," Susan said, "can't it wait?"

  Jasper looked away from the door and then back at them. "Sure it can wait, but I don't think she'll survive the night."

  Thinking he was talking about her mare, Susan jumped up instantly and climbed out of the cart. Jasper pointed under an adjacent wagon.

  It was the girl she fed on the bridge.

  "Oh, hell," she whispered.

  Jasper chuckled and climbed into Jimmy's cart. "You fed her. Now she's yours."

  The girl looked at Susan with emotionless green eyes. Her skin looked blue in the cold, but she didn't even shiver. Susan finally held her hand out to the little girl, who pulled away.

  "There now, it's okay," said Susan soothingly like she would with a skittish horse. She crept incrementally closer while talking gently.

  Eventually Susan squatted in front of the girl and looked under the wagon while holding out her hand. "I don't know who you are, but I won't hurt you. You need to come inside or you'll freeze here in the night. Do you understand?"

  The green eyes seemed to flicker in the darkness. Ever so slowly the girl reached out and took Susan's hand.

  They both climbed out of the deadly cold into the warm yurt.

  Chapter 8 - Soothing Darkness

  Ethan Schweitzer closed his eyes and willed the pain to go away. He'd taken as much medication as the doctor said was safe, but it made no difference. Although he was fully recovered from Reggie Philips' brutal attack, he still occasionally suffered near-debilitating headaches. Darkness and silence were the only factors that seemed to lessen the agony.