Them: Society Lost, Volume Four

by Steven Bird

  Laying her head down on the cold, damp rocks beneath her, staring into the dark, empty abyss above, confusion and emotion swept through Britney’s body. Was he right? Would she still be so tough when it was her turn? Would she still be able to fuel her anger and rage once she knew they would soon be coming for her?

  Shaking the negative thoughts from her head, Britney said a silent prayer that God would allow her to drift off to sleep once again. But this time, Lord, please, let me dream of my mom and dad. Let me feel like we’re together, once again, at least one more time.

  Chapter Eleven

  After a long, sleepless night, Nate awoke and stared at the sky. He was just beginning to be able to make out the silhouette of the treetops with his naked eyes. Hello, morning, he thought, as a smile came across his face. I wasn’t sure I’d see you again.

  Looking at his wound, Nate could see his leg had become very swollen. Damn, I’m cold, he muttered with a shiver as he pulled his coat collar tight around his neck.

  Hearing a twig snap out in front of him, Nate’s attention was piqued. He focused his eyes with laser-like precision in the direction of the sound. With the sun now cresting the horizon and providing ample light to see his surroundings, Nate slowly and carefully lifted his rifle and held in the direction of the potential threat.

  Hearing the rustle of the underbrush, along with another sound of a snapping twig, he clinched his rifle tightly and slowly brought it to bear. Catching movement in his peripheral vision, Nate homed in on it and focused. Those bastards just aren’t gonna leave me alone, he thought as he mentally readied himself for a fight. You bastards may get me, but I’m going down swinging.

  With the threat now behind a dense patch of briars and brush, Nate couldn’t get a good look, but he could hear it working its way toward his position.

  C’mon, you bastards. Get on with it.

  There! he thought, and his heart raced with his finger grazing the trigger of his M4. Chuckling and feeling a sense of relief sweep through his body, Nate smiled and lowered his rifle as a large whitetail buck rounded the brush, sifting through the leaves for acorns on the ground.

  Hearing him chuckle, the buck froze in its tracks, looking in his direction. Whispering as if he was speaking to the deer, Nate said, “How the heck have you survived this long, boy? I guess those creepy bastards in the cave have kept people from hunting the local area. Hell, maybe that’s their plan? Scaring people off to keep the local game and wildlife for themselves, that is. I dunno, but either way, Godspeed, ol’ boy.”

  Watching as the buck turned and quickly disappeared into the woods, Nate lay his head back against the tree and looked to the sky, thinking, with all the ugliness that surrounds us, there is still beauty in the world. Thanks for the subtle reminders of that from time to time. We need that. And I pray I always see them when You show me.

  ~~~~

  Feeling something brush across his face, Nate awoke in a panic. Swatting at his face and reaching for his rifle, Nate realized it was merely one of the many autumn leaves falling from the trees surrounding him and drifting on the wind. Relaxing at this simple revelation, Nate began to visually search through the treetops for the position of the sun.

  I must have dozed off for a while, he thought, noting that the sun was now directly overhead. Feeling his forehead once again, he realized he had been sweating. It’s way too cool out for that. Looking down at his wound, Nate began to fear his body must be fighting off an infection. He felt shaky and feverish, and his wound also appeared to be a little more swollen than he’d hoped.

  Damn, that must have gone deeper than we thought. I’ve been cut before, but this… this feels different. It feels bad. Really bad.

  Looking around, Nate began to think about all the ‘what ifs’. What if Jessie doesn’t make it back? The odds aren’t in his favor. With the UF pushing this way, and with… ‘them’ out here in the woods, no doubt looking for us and, well, the cards are stacked against him. I know I’d rather face the UF hunters than these fur-covered bastards any day, he lamented.

  But the worst part is… I’m not in any shape to take on anyone. Laying his head back while looking up through the sway of the trees while they moved with the breeze, Nate couldn’t help but think of Peggy and Zack, along with his mother, Judith, and all of the other friends and family he had left behind to go on this mission.

  He thought it would just be another hit and run. Another small victory for the Blue Ridge Militia. Another hit and run that would keep the UF busy and out of their hair back home. The more of a ruckus they could cause the UF, drawing them away, and keeping their attention focused elsewhere, the less likely they would be back in their neck of the woods. Take the fight to the enemy, as one would say. Never let them rest. Never let them relax, and all of those other textbook methods of guerilla warfare.

  No, ever since the devastation and heartache the UN troops had brought to their quaint little mountain world back in Del Rio and Hot Springs, the last thing the militia wanted was to see a replay of those events. The days of just sitting at home and hoping they’d pass you by were over. Nate and the others in the Blue Ridge Militia were determined to keep the UF on the move elsewhere around the region, all while helping out their fellow citizens as best they could.

  And when this mission came up, Nate just couldn’t turn it down. He’d imagined what life would be like for Peggy and Zack if they were to be run out of their mountain home and ended up in one of the camps. He couldn’t bear the thought. And when he heard of what the UF was doing with the “excess,” well, to say his blood boiled was an understatement.

  Thinking it all over and looking back through his life, Nate had no regrets. He’d have done it all over again. Every move, every decision. If Peggy and Zack had ended up in the position of Britney and her parents, he’d hope someone, like him, would be willing to risk it all to save them from the horrors of the UF’s mass graves.

  Lord, if it is Your will to take me here… if it is Your will to end my struggles in these woods, please take care of my family and friends back home. And Lord, please… please take care of Britney. She’s gone through enough in this awful world. I’ll gladly trade you my soul for hers. Take me, and spare her. Help Jessie on his journey, so that he can bring the help she needs. In Your name I pray, Lord. Amen.

  Opening his eyes, Nate looked to the sky as he heard the gut-wrenching sounds of a Mi-24 Hind when it passed overhead at near treetop level. The massive Russian-made helicopter was traveling in an easterly direction. I wonder where those bastards are going? he thought. As he contemplated the ramifications of the ominous sight, his worries for Jessie were immediately intensified.

  Soon after the helicopter had flown overhead, Nate heard gunshots begin to echo through the woods from a distance. “That’s an AK. That’s a ’74,” he whispered, referring to the venerable AK-74M that had been standard issue for most of the UF troops in the area. He, too, had fought with them on many occasions as supplies or tactics dictated. He was a big fan of the 5.45x39 Russian cartridge they fired, but he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of one. The Mujahedeen called it the poison bullet for a reason. It tended to leave wounds that were not easy to deal with.

  He could tell from the rhythm of sustained fire, and by the crack and note of each round’s report, that it was certainly a ’74. “That’s not Jessie,” he mumbled to himself as he struggled to roll to his side, so he could keep an eye on the direction of the rifle reports. “His .30-30 is distinctive.”

  He soon began to hear other intermittent shots, not at all similar to the sound of an AK-74. Who the hell is that? he thought, and the realization set in that it might very well be the ones from the cave. “Maybe it’s them,” he mumbled, wondering aloud.

  Thinking to himself, trying to make sense of the situation, he pondered, if they inserted a hunter group nearby to look for Jessie and me, they might be getting more than they bargained for. Those furry bastards don’t seem to take to strangers very well.


  Feeling conflicted, Nate wasn’t sure exactly who he preferred to win this particular altercation. If those damn foreign occupiers with the UF take out the… whoever the hell they are, where does that leave me? They’ll eventually find me. I guess that’s better than dying out here from a fever or dying at the hands of those beasts. At least I’d stand a chance of receiving first aid as a prisoner. What the hell am I thinking? Kill those bastards!

  ~~~~

  Picking their way along a mountain ridge, Jessie drew back on Hank’s reins, saying in a soft, gentle voice, “Whoa, boy.” Patting the horse on the neck, Jessie looked through a gap in the trees he’d seen from a distance as a good vantage point.

  Seeing a few houses in the valley below, Jessie noted no smoke coming from their chimneys, nor did he see any other immediate signs of habitation.

  “Ah, hell. It’s probably no use, boy. Even if they’re empty, everything has been picked clean by now. Pickin’s are gettin’ slim for a vagabond and a drifter these days.”

  Hearing a rotor beat, Jessie looked back as Hank began to shift his feet with anxiety. To Jessie’s horror, a Mi-24 Hind was flying up the valley between the two ridges. The helicopter flew right by him at nearly eye level. His heart sank when he realized he and Hank were in a visually exposed position.

  Kicking Hank into action, Jessie ran his horse into the cover of the trees and had to make a quick decision as to which side of the ridge they would descend, in an attempt to become lost in the thick forest below.

  Although the helicopter had passed him to his right, which was south, he knew that Highway 411 lay to the north. If he opted to descend from the ridge to the north, he’d end up on the UF’s main route of travel. Additionally, he’d end up faced with either passing directly through the town of Newport or ascending the very same ridge to pass back to the south to get safely around Newport and in a position to continue toward Highway 25 and eventually, Del Rio.

  “C’mon, boy,” he said, urging Hank to his right to descend the mountain to the south. “Hopefully, we can get lost in the thick of it.”

  While they worked their way through the thick Appalachian forest, Jessie could hear the large, twin turbine powered helicopter off in the distance. Concerned as to why they had yet to leave the area, Jessie brushed his feelings aside and pressed on. The clock was ticking for both Nate and Britney, and he knew it. Caution had to take a backseat to timeliness for the next few days of his journey.

  Reaching the floor of the valley between the two mountain ridges, Jessie oriented himself, and pondered, “I believe that’s Carson Springs, there. I remember it from before the madness in the mountains south of 411 began. Nate and I discussed our possible routes east. I believe if we can skirt around Carson Springs, we’ll cross Highway 32, Interstate 40, and then Highway 73. All three of those run north and south, giving us a clear shot to Highway 25 and Del Rio once we’re beyond them.”

  Patting Hank on the neck, Jessie chuckled, saying, “Just talking to you about our plans makes me feel better, even if all you hear is a series of grunts and moans. C’mon, now. Let’s get moving,” he said as he urged Hank forward.

  Arriving at an area that had been extensively logged in previous years before the collapse, on the western side of the valley, Jessie scanned the skies above for threats and then began quickly working Hank through the young trees that were beginning to take hold again in the once thick forest. Feeling visually exposed, he kept Hank’s head up and moving, not wanting to let his tired companion slow, potentially allowing them to be spotted.

  “C’mon, boy. Being a little tired is better than catching a bullet.”

  Hearing the helicopter circle back around from the north, Jessie grumbled, “Now what is that bastard doing?”

  Reaching a cluster of unharvested trees alongside the dirt logging road left behind by the logging company, Jessie took visual cover in the trees while he watched with horror as the helicopter looked as if it were descending into Carson Springs on the other side of the next ridge.

  “Damn it to hell,” Jessie grumbled. “C’mon boy. Nate can’t afford for us to wait them out. We’ve gotta get moving and stay moving.”

  Knowing that once they got underway, he couldn’t guarantee the next time he would have the luxury of stopping to water his horse, Jessie dismounted and led Hank over to a small trickling stream that followed the logging road in the bottom of the valley.

  Once he and his horse had their fill, Jessie wiped his mouth with his sleeve and walked over to Hank, saying, “We can do this, boy. I know we can,” as he put his foot in the stirrup and boosted himself up and over, settling into the saddle for what he knew was an uncertain ride.

  Nudging Hank forward, Jessie worked him toward the southern side of Carson Springs. He knew if he had to turn and run, he’d be ultimately blocked by Newport to the north, where the helicopter’s allies likely had freedom of movement. To the south, other than a few roads that took people through the area, there wouldn’t be anywhere near as many assets for the UF to utilize in his pursuit.

  Chapter Twelve

  The silence of the hellish cave was broken only by drips of water tracing their way down the cave’s ceiling formations, finally breaking free and falling to the floor. Not another sound could be heard. Not even a whimper from Greg beside her.

  Britney’s mind seemed to wander aimlessly and her concept of time now seemed like a distant memory. With no sunrise, no sunset, and no sounds from the outside world at all, she found the silence of it all disorienting and maddening.

  They should have found me by now… if they were coming, that is, she thought as her mind sifted through all the possible scenarios. Even though she had just recently met both Nate and Jessie, and even though their time together was tense and fast-paced, to say the least, she felt as if there was anyone on Earth she could trust to be there for her—to come for her—it was those two men.

  As doubt from the hopelessness of her situation began to create conflict in her heart, she thought, I guess I was just fooling myself. They didn’t even know me. Heck, they didn’t even know each other. It was just a matter of chance that we were together, nothing more.

  Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the ominous echoes of a horn reverberating through the cave.

  Hearing Greg begin to cry, she whispered, “Be strong. They may be coming for me. You don’t know for sure they’re coming for you. It may mean something else.”

  “No…” he sobbed. “It’s time. It’s the only rhythm they have. They always go in order. They’ve never deviated from that. It’s time,” he cried as panic and fear began to set in.

  “Please, no!” he cried out in the darkness. “Not yet! I’m not ready! Please, no! Please, no! No! No! No!”

  Hearing movement in the darkness, Britney listened as Greg’s chains began to jingle from his uncontrollable shakes. Heavy footsteps could be heard drawing near, making Greg sob uncontrollably from fear, allowing his bowels to evacuate their contents as he began to lose control.

  The hair on the back of Britney’s neck stood on end as she sensed someone, or something, very close to her. She couldn’t see at all in the total darkness, but she knew as certain as anything if she reached out her hand, she would touch one of them in the darkness.

  Trying to maintain her composure the best she could, Britney painted a mental image from the sounds around her. She could almost see in her mind how Greg was being taken hold of while he flailed around in sheer panic. Hearing the chains drop to the floor and feet begin to shuffle, she could tell they were carrying him away, and his cries soon faded to echoes in the distance.

  How many were there? she thought. Two, maybe three? They didn’t say a word. They didn’t make a sound other than the sounds of their feet shuffling on the floor. Why? Why don’t they talk? Why don’t they seem to communicate at all, yet seem to work in perfect unison?

  Feeling fingers run through her hair in the darkness, Britney flinched and pulled away as chills ran up her spi
ne. Her heart began to race as she realized she wasn’t alone. They hadn’t all left with Greg like she’d thought.

  Curling up into a fetal position, Britney held her eyes shut tightly as she just wanted the moment to pass. Unable to help herself, she stuttered, “Who… who’s there?”

  Hearing a figure shift around in the darkness, Britney knew she hadn’t imagined it. She wasn’t alone. But was she ever? Was there always someone, or something sitting there in the darkness, watching and listening? Waiting? Britney’s mental hell intensified tenfold with that revelation, and with the new unknowns it brought with it.

  And now, she was the only one to remain. Greg, based on the accounts he’d given her, would not be returning, and she knew it. The unknown horrors he was about to experience would soon befall her. Try as she might, she attempted to block his screams from her mind to no avail.

  ~~~~

  Being carried through the network of caves by several of their captors, Greg’s will to survive intensified with each step they took. Every step was one step closer to his fate, and that was something he was not as ready and willing to accept as he had tried to convince himself.

  With his hands and feet still bound, there wasn’t much he could do, and add to that his captor’s physical strength was far greater than his, especially given his weakened, malnourished state. He wondered what he could do to fight back, hoping an opportunity would present itself.

  He flashed back to Britney’s previous comments about this very moment, “You can surrender your life to them if you want, but I’m going to make them earn whatever it is they plan to do. I’d rather die a painful death knowing I made them earn it than to simply have my life end in submission and tears. Submission is why I’m here. It’s why my family died. We submitted to those who wielded power over us. Never. Never again. If I never see the sunlight outside of this hell again, at least I’ll die knowing I didn’t just give up.”