Paths of Righteousness

by Ryan King

  "Have a seat," Brazen finally said. "Do me a favor and take your hand off your rifle if you don't mind."

  Realizing he was still tense, Beau forced himself to relax, letting go of his rifle and sitting.

  "Thank you," said Brazen looking at the walls. "Now who are you and why are you here?"

  Beau pulled the envelope from his pocket again. "My name is Major Beau Myers and I'm on a mission from General Matthews."

  "That's what Jacko said."

  "Then why...why wouldn't you want to see me?" asked Beau. "I'm here to help."

  Brazen sighed and looked away. "Help us what?"

  "Escape," answered Beau. "We can get you out of here."

  The small man looked back at him. "There is no escape."

  "No, seriously," said Beau trying to push the envelope before him, "if you would just read –"

  "Did you know I grew up in this house?" Brazen asked.

  Beau shook his head.

  Brazen nodded and smiled. "My parents weren't there for me and my grandmother raised my sister and me."

  "I've heard the stories," Beau said.

  "Have you now?" asked Brazen. "Well, it isn't a story to me. All my life there have been two sides warring within me. The dark and the light, as Pastor Lancourt would say."

  "You could probably say that about anyone," Beau said.

  "True," answered Brazen, "but the dark in me always seemed destined to rule. I was headed down a dark path and I found a father figure where I least expected it. He showed me how to be a man. My life changed. Got into MIT and they didn't let me in because of some charity case. I was good. I was smart. My imagination soared and I was going to design and build things the world had never seen before."

  Not sure what to say, Beau sat silent.

  "Then my little sister was gunned down," Brazen looked away. "I might have gone on, but the dark was there all around me, presenting me with opportunities, ways to avenge her. And after all these years, you know what?"

  Beau shook his head.

  "I don't regret it. I would kill all of them again. I'd go to prison, I'd break Nonnie's heart if need be rather than suffer them to walk on the same earth as I."

  "But after N-Day –" said Beau.

  "Yes, yes," said Brazen. "I tried. Even worked for awhile, but they killed my father. Pastor Lancourt was a good man, but he was a fool through and though. He only saw the light in me, not the dark. So do you understand?"

  Looking at him quizzically, Beau answered, "No, not really."

  Brazen sighed. "Those men out there took from me. The only purpose my life has ever had was to kill those that deserved it. Those men deserve to die and that's what I'm going to keep trying to do until I'm dead myself. There is no escape even if I did want to run."

  "But, what about everyone else?" said Beau.

  "We're getting them out," said Beau. "I'm sure you saw them when you came in on the barge."

  "There's not enough room, not enough barges. You're running out of time."

  "Doesn't matter," said Brazen. "When it's your time, it's your time."

  Beau felt himself getting angry. "That's selfish bullshit and you know it."

  "Do I now?" asked Brazen with a flicker of anger in his eye. "Educate me."

  "You're just stuck in your own self pity," Beau said. "You've lost people you love, but there are thousands depending on you. You can't just let them die so you can get a little more vengeance on people who had nothing to do with hurting you."

  "They are all the same," said Brazen. "And why do I have to take responsibility for all those people? I don't remember signing up for that, and besides, what makes you think I care about any of them?"

  "You care," said Beau, "because of what your sister or Nonnie or Pastor Lancourt would think of you. You think they would be ashamed of you right now."

  A revolver was in Brazen's fist and suddenly pointed at Beau's face. "Time for you to go, one way or the other. Your choice."

  Beau shook his head. "I'm not leaving until you read General Matthews letter."

  "I will shoot you in your silly face," Brazen said with a hard street edge so unlike his earlier voice.

  "No, you won't," said Beau. "That light and dark side of you still battles, and it's not a foregone conclusion. You want the light to win." Beau looked at the pictures on the wall. "For them."

  Brazen's jaw tightened and the pistol shook, then he slammed it down on the table beside him and snatched the envelope out of Beau's hand. He tore open the seal and pulled out the letter reading it quickly. When he was done he dropped it on the floor and looked at Beau with an incredulous look on his face. "Is this for real?"

  "Sure is," said Beau.

  "This has got to be the dumbest rescue plan in the history of the world," said Brazen. "What genius came up with it?"

  "Well...I...uh..." stammered Beau.

  "This is your plan?" Brazen asked.

  Beau was angry again. "You got something better?"

  The small man starred at him for a long time before shaking his head. "No. Our options are fairly limited, assuming I give a shit what happens to these people."

  "They're scared," said Beau. "Kids, women. Hungry and tired and looking death right in the face. They need you."

  "Where do you come up with this shit?" asked Brazen.

  Beau didn't know what to say.

  Brazen stood suddenly and strode to the door. He flung it open and yelled, "Jacko! Tell the leaders I want to meet with them all tomorrow morning. Down at the hall." Not waiting for an answer he shut the door.

  "Thank you," said Beau.

  "Don't thank me yet," said Brazen, "and if you don't want to walk back to your men, you better run and catch Jacko."

  Beau looked at Brazen not certain if he were serious.

  Brazen raised his eyebrows and pointed at the door. "Get the hell out of my house."

  Standing, Beau walked to the door and stepped outside. He saw Jacko getting behind the wheel. He scowled at Beau evilly.

  "Oh," said Brazen. "And you made a mistake with Jacko. If you don't survive the night, I appreciate you making the effort. For what it's worth."

  Brazen shut the door and locked it.

  Chapter 12 - Come in Peace

  Joshua winced as his father groaned again. He had a raging fever despite the aspirin they'd forced down his throat. It made him want to scream that there was nothing more they could do.

  "He needs antibiotics," Jack said for perhaps the tenth time.

  "You say that like I've got some on me," Joshua answered testily.

  Jack shrugged and went back to cooking the rabbit he'd killed over the fire.

  Joshua stared into the fire and tried to think of what to do.

  The Jeep had run out of gas after about twenty miles, fortunately that was enough distance to leave behind the motorcycle crazies. Joshua had shot three more that he knew of, toward the end it was getting too dark to tell.

  By the time they stopped, Nathan's leg had begun to swell and he was in obvious pain.

  "Don't think it hit a bone or the femoral artery," said Jack. "Could be internal bleeding, but don't think it's too much."

  "How the hell would you know?" gritted Nathan.

  "I was a corpsman in the Navy," Jack answered with just a hint of pride. "Got drafted to Vietnam and did my time there. Saw lots of gunshot wounds including those to legs."

  "That's not a gunshot wound," said Joshua trying to be helpful.

  "I know that," snapped Jack," but the wound is similar except for the fact that the rebar is still in his leg. We need to get that out."

  "How you propose to do that?" asked Joshua a little worried. "Probably need to find some sort of saw or something, right?"

  "We ain't going to find no saw that'll cut through rebar," Jack answered. "We're gonna have to yank it out."

  "Yank it out?" asked Joshua.

  "Yep," said Jack smiling. "Just grab it and jerk it out. Easy peasy."

  "Are you out of your min
d?" asked Joshua. "That could make it worse."

  "It hurts whenever you just touch it," said Nathan startling them. Sweat stood on his forehead. "You sure we just want to yank it out?"

  Jack huffed. "If we don't get it out, it won't start to heal and you'll likely get sepsis. Might even get it anyway, but you'll be better off without that in your leg, believe me. We'll need to tie you up though."

  "Tie me up?" asked Nathan.

  "Yeah," answered Jack. "That thigh muscle has cinched around the rebar tight. It won't come out easily. Can't have you thrashing around while it's being pulled out or you might nick the femoral and then it's all over."

  "Can't you just hold me down?" asked Nathan.

  "Iwill hold you down," said Jack, "but I suspect that won't be enough. You're going to fight like the devil when Joshua starts yanking on that thing."

  "Me?" asked Joshua. "You're the former Vietnam medic."

  "But you're younger," said Jack. "You got rebar pulling duty and that's that. Don't try to get out of it."

  "I'm not trying to get out of it," said Joshua, "it just seems...drastic."

  "And painful," put in Nathan.

  Jack chuckled. "I'm sure it will be painful, but if it makes you feel any better it likely won't be as painful as what they did to Joshua's head."

  "Why are you so chipper about this?" asked Joshua.

  "You think getting all sad and crying will get the job done any faster?" asked Jack. "Now let's get to it." Jack began tying Nathan's legs together and his arms behind his back while keeping him on his side with the rebar parallel to the ground.

  "That's really uncomfortable," said Nathan.

  "In about one minute you won't even notice it," said Jack cinching the ropes tight. "Oh yeah," he stuffed a rag between Nathan's teeth. "Try not to draw too much attention by screaming." He then laid his entire body across Nathan's chest and looked at Joshua expectantly. "Go on now, son. Do your father a favor and pull that thing out as hard and as fast as you can. Going easy won't make it better on him."

  Joshua nodded. He reached out and grasped the end of the rebar and saw his father tense up in pain. It hurt Joshua to see it, but he knew Jack was right. Wrapping both arms around the metal, he dug his feet in the ground. Joshua took a deep breath and with all his might jerked backward on the metal bar.

  It moved about three inches.

  Nathan was thrashing and screaming through the rag. Jack was having a hard time keeping on top of him.

  "Keep pulling!" screamed Jack. "Don't stop until it's out!"

  Joshua forced himself to ignore his father and haul on the rebar. He yanked again. And again. Each time if came a little further until it seemed stuck with only the point still exposed on the other side.

  "It's stuck," said Joshua looking at the blood oozing from the fresh wound.

  "It is not," said Jack. "Look at me. If you don't pull that metal out of your father right now, he's going to die of shock. He can't take much more. Do it now."

  Joshua gritted his teeth and grabbed the rebar again. He placed one foot on his father's thigh for leverage and heard him scream in new pain. Joshua hadn't been much for prayer, but he said one now.Please God, help me. Don't let me father die.

  Then he heaved with every bit of strength he had and suddenly he was falling backward with the rusty length of metal in his hands.

  "You did well," said Jack as he climbed off of Nathan's still form.

  "Is he alive?" asked Joshua.

  Jack nodded. "Just passed out. Probably for the best. While he's out I'll do what I can to clean and bandage the wounds. Get me any clean clothes you can find. Also, I need a long thin piece of metal heated in the fire."

  Joshua didn't ask what that was for, he found out later when it was his turn to hold his father down while he awoke to the cauterizing and thrashed and screamed anew. Afterwards his father fell into a troubled sleep while Joshua went to siphon more gas for the Jeep. He was able to find a couple of gallons in an old tractor in a barn a few miles away.

  Now they were another twenty miles east and sitting around another fire. Normally, they would have been more careful, but they were both too tired and dejected. They did their best to put the fire in a hollow where it was banked by trees and limbs, still if anyone was close they would see or smell it.

  Nathan moaned and rolled on his back.

  "Heneeds antibiotics," said Jack.

  "Would you please stop saying that?" said Joshua. "For the love of God, I know my father needs antibiotics or he's going to die. What are you suggesting I do? Take him to the nearest emergency room?"

  "Take it easy," said Jack poking at his rabbit. "I'm just used to living alone, that's all. Talk to myself a lot."

  Joshua stood and grabbed his rifle. "I'm going to walk around and check things out."

  "Don't you want any of this rabbit?"

  "Not hungry," Joshua answered. "Try to get Dad to eat some." He didn't wait for Jack to respond, just walked out into the still night. The snow had stopped and the sky was clear. Joshua looked up at the stars and was impressed by their beauty.

  Except part of the sky was strangely blocked out. Joshua moved a few degrees to his left and then right. Something big, round and high up off the ground loomed. He thought he heard an odd noise coming from up above, the ping of metal on metal, and began walking in that direction.

  Within a hundred yards he recognized it as a water tower. It reared up over them, but he thought he saw pinpricks of light on its surface.

  "What the hell?" he said quietly.

  "My thoughts exactly," said a deep voice from the bushes nearby.

  Joshua spun in that direction, but didn't see anything.

  "We mean you no harm," said the deep voice, "granted you come in peace. I'll ask you to point your rifle at the sky or the ground so we can meet."

  Joshua hesitated and then slowly lowered his rifle. He felt movement around him. Two men and a woman appeared from the bushes to his right, all armed. Another larger man stepped from in front of him and asked in a deep voice. "Is that fire over there yours, or do we have other visitors?"

  Joshua didn't answer.

  "We're going to have to check it out anyway," the man said. "If there's people there, and they're with you, I'd just as soon know what we're getting into instead of going in blind. Tragedies happen when people have to go bumbling around in the dark with guns.

  "Yes, they are with me," Joshua said. "An old man named Jack, and my father. He's really sick we got attacked back in Chester."

  "The Vipers," said a man to the right.

  The deep voiced man moved up close enough for Joshua to get a good look at him. He was tall and thin. Although his head was shaved smooth, he had a long flowing white beard. Dark eyes looked out from angular features.

  "What's your name, son?" the man asked.

  "Joshua."

  "Joshua," the man said as if savoring the name. "A mighty warrior. A man of God who brought back a good report of the trip to Canaan along with Caleb. A man who did not lose heart. Did your parents name you aptly?"

  Joshua wasn't sure if he had heard correctly. "I don't understand your question."

  The man smiled benevolently. "I'm sure you understand that this is the Apocalypse. There are only three types of people left in this world. The saints, the unsaved, and the followers of the Beast. I have no problem with the first two, but the last cannot be tolerated.

  "I don't know anything about a beast," said Joshua. "I just want to keep my father from dying."

  "Good enough I reckon," the man said. "Your name vouches for you as a sign from God if nothing else. I am Reverend Caleb Street, and we are the Fellowship of the Ark."

  "The Ark?" asked Joshua.

  "We'll get to that later," said Caleb. "Now, lead us to your father and the old man you are traveling with. My wife has been given the gift of healing and might be able to help him."

  Joshua was too tired to question any of this and lead them toward where Jack and his fathe
r waited by the fire.

  "I'd didn't hear any shootin, so we must be –" Jack started and then reached for his shotgun as he saw the others with Joshua.

  "Easy, old man," said one of the men next to Reverend Caleb. "No need for that."

  "I'll be the judge of what there's a need for," Jack answered pointing the barrel of his gun at the man.

  "Jack, it's okay," said Joshua. "They might be able to help Dad."

  "Is that so?" asked Jack. "They might also be able to string us up and sodomize us while they roast and eat our extremities before our very eyes."

  "How very imaginative. I want you to know that we mean you no harm," said Caleb. "We will leave you in peace if you like, but God never brings visitors without a reason."

  "I don't know about that," said Jack looking at Nathan, "but we could use some antibiotics. Nathan's got a bad fever."

  "Nathan," Caleb smiled. "A prophet of the Lord."

  "Uh, yeah," said Jack. "Anyway, antibiotics. You got 'em?"

  "Come with us and we will do what we can to help you," said Caleb. "You will not be harmed under our care as long as you abide by the rules of our fellowship."

  Jack started to say something else, but Joshua cut him off. "We agree. Now please help my father."

  Caleb nodded to the two men who slung their rifles and approached Nathan. They carefully began to lift him, but one leaped back as Nathan's right hand fell on the ground. The man stared in horror at the brand on his hand.

  "The mark of the Beast," he hissed pulling back.

  "No," said Joshua, "he's just exiled from the JP, that's all."

  "Don't be foolish," Caleb told the man. "That doesn't come till later. There are several more tribulations and seals before the Beast is given power. This is the work of men."

  The man didn't look convinced, but he reached down to help lift Nathan, who moaned again with the movement.

  "Where are we going to?" asked Jack.

  "To the Ark that God told me to prepare," Caleb answered and pointed toward the sky.