“Instead, we have nearly two hundred men, young and old, prepared to fight,” Pete said. “They want to stop this madness more than you do. They want to kick these evil people off our lands. They want to help you save your people.”
“Thanks again,” Raz mumbled.
“Today and from hereafter, we are brothers,” Pete proclaimed. “We will fight together, and if the spirits decide, we will die together in our pursuit to eliminate this wickedness not of this earth.”
Cody liked what he heard. He was more than ready. “Does this mean we’re blood brothers?”
“If you say so,” Pete said.
“Should we do that thing with a knife, cutting gashes in our hands and joining them, then swearing allegiance as blood spirits?” Cody questioned him.
Pete grinned. “No. We don’t do that kind of thing anymore.”
“Why not?” Cody asked.
“Because it hurts like hell.”
Raz laughed along with his new friend. “Let’s git this game started.”
Before getting up to leave, Raz took one last look into the camp. “Holy shit!” he yelled.
“What? What is it?” Cody asked as the rest of the men nearby peeked down the hill. “People are exitin’ the buildin’s.” He focused on the end building, the one Pete saw people entering from the bus that had arrived last night with shot out windows. “The guards are pushin’ the captives toward a row of tables set up outside.” Raz scanned the large group with his binoculars. He was looking for Cody’s family.
“Let me see,” Cody insisted, wanting the field glasses. Maybe Robin and the kids were there.
“Wait!” Raz searched the mob, examining each face as quickly as he could. No one looked familiar. Finally he stopped. “I see her, Cody! I see ya wife.” From his perch hundreds of yards away he watched the woman with two children standing next to her.
Cody grabbed the glasses from Raz. “Where?” There were too many people in the ragged line facing away from them.
Raz pointed. “Halfway toward the tables. She has a scarf on her head, two kids with her.”
“I don’t see them,” Cody said loudly. A second later he found them. His head was spinning. His eyes widened. His heart pumped wildly as he refocused and looked closer. The woman turned her body to the side as they moved. Cody’s face suddenly went blank. “That’s not her. That’s not my wife.”
He dropped back allowing Raz to pick up the binoculars. Raz kept searching. Everyone was looking down to the dirt or at the tables before them. Then, without notice a loud rattling of a machine gun filled the morning air. He saw the mass of prisoners dive to the ground. He moved the glasses back and forth in a frantic search of victims. Three men next to the fence fell limp.
“They just shot three prisoners. Don’t know why,” he relayed the action from the scene below to the other men near him.
Cody wiped his eyes. He had to hold it together.
“Wait a minute,” Raz jerked. “I see a kid, a little boy. He’s runnin’ away from the tables. There’re some open latrines in the back. Yeah. Cody, I think it’s ya boy.”
Raz handed the glasses to Cody who immediately sighted the young boy. “That’s him! That’s Jeffrey!” He watched his son rush back to the line of people who had apparently received their meals after the shooting. His son back with his mother, Cody could see Robin saying something to their daughter. A huge sense of relief overcame him. “We found them, Raz! We found them!” He grabbed his rifle and attempted to get up.
“Not so fast, sonny,” Raz said as he held him back. “Ya runnin’ down there ain’t gonna do ya or ‘em no good. We stick ta the plan.”
“But…they’re right there!” Cody persisted.
“Yup, and tagether we’re gonna git ‘em out. Trust me,” Raz said as he patted his friend on his shoulder. He turned to Pete and his new brothers. “Okay, boys. It’s time.”
Chapter 37
Robin stirred from an uncomfortable sleep. She felt light-headed, her lips were chapped and bleeding, and her stomach had a hollow aching sensation. Her eyes were unfocused in the strange environment, her body was cold and numb, her back and legs hurt. She woke up uncertain of where she was.
The room she laid in was dark and had a distinct, over-powering odor of human bodies, unwashed and unsanitary. She brushed her nose, but the horrid smell remained. Shadows appeared all around her. She began to panic, as if waking from a nightmare attacking her groggy senses. Shades of movement nearby caused her to cringe as she heard hacking coughs, whining whimpers, and eerie moans fill the strange space.
Suddenly, reality hit her. She began to remember. She was in some sort of camp far from home, forced here by unsavory men in uniforms. Men with guns. Foreign soldiers. People had been shot and killed. That was real. Only hours earlier she had been shoved into this place with her children hanging onto her side. Her children! She looked to both sides and felt small shivering bodies nestled under her coat.
She tried to speak, but her dry mouth was void of saliva making it impossible for her voice to work. She licked her lips and swallowed a bit, then whispered in a raspy voice, “Jeffrey. Jennifer. Wake up.” She gently rocked them from their needed slumber. “Wake up children.”
Jeffrey woke first and jumped to his feet, startled by his mother tugging at him. He rubbed his weary eyes, and then held his stomach. “I’m really hungry, Mom.” He looked around the large open room. The morning light seeping through the wood siding cracks was clearing out the shadows. “Where are we Mom?” he asked.
Robin pulled him down to her. “I don’t know where we are, son. We should be having breakfast soon,” she said, trying to assure him.
Jennifer woke too and began crying. She nestled her head deeper into Robin’s warm coat.
Robin held her little girl tight. “What’s wrong Jennifer?” she asked, combing her fingers through her daughter’s tangled hair.
Jennifer continued crying. She sniffled and said, “I wet myself.”
Her mother hugged her tighter. “That’s okay honey. It was an accident. It’s okay.”
“Sorry Mommy. Don’t get mad at me,” Jennifer cried.
“I’m not mad at you sweetheart,” Robin replied. “I could never be mad at either one of you. Both of you have been strong and very brave.” She wrapped her arms around the two wishing this was a nightmare that would soon end.
“I feel scared,” Jeffrey said looking at the other people near him.
“Me too,” Jennifer whimpered. “I’m scared too.”
Robin began crying herself. She felt helpless, vulnerable, lost. “I’m scared too. But we are together, and for right now that’s all that matters.”
Jeffrey stared into his mother’s eyes and asked, “Is Daddy coming?”
“Yes, your Daddy is coming. We’ll stay here and wait for him. Okay?”
“Okay,” Jennifer said.
“Okay too,” Jeffrey repeated. “But I hope he hurries.”
“Me too,” Robin said. “Me too.”
People in the room began rising and walking about. A din of hushed voices spread through the cold building. Constant sneezes and thick coughs filled the air. A cloud of contagious sickness hung over the crowd. Children cried and old folks moaned their pains away.
Robin had to find food for her and the children. She also wanted to locate Lisa and her girls. She stood up and said to her kids, “You children stay right where you are. Don’t go anyway.”
“Where are you going Mama?” Jeffrey asked.
“Don’t go Mama,” Jennifer begged.
“I’m only going to talk to some people here. I’ll find out when we eat. You’ll see me every step. Okay?”
“Please Mama!” the little girl pleaded.
“It’s okay,” Jeffrey said. “I’ll take care of her.”
“Thank you Jeffrey. You’re acting like a young man.”
Jeffrey smiled and turned to his sister. “You hear Mom? I’m the boss of you.”
“I’l
l be right back,” Robin reminded them.
She moved along the lengthy wall of the structure making out hundreds of bodies lying on the floor. She tripped over outstretched legs and stumbled into groups still prone on the wood floor, apologizing each time. She found a familiar face in the massive crowd and approached a man who had been in the front of her bus. He was part of the group who attacked the soldier and was lucky enough to survive the shooting.
“Hello, do you remember me?” she asked the gentleman. “We were on the bus together.”
The man nodded without saying a word. He was too tired and drained to respond.
“Do you know if there’s any food?” she asked.
He simply shrugged his covered shoulders, a sense of defeat on his face.
Robin looked back at her children as she moved on. The room had to be two hundred feet long and a hundred feet wide, but nearly every square foot was occupied. She recognized several more people who appeared scared and confused. It was clear none of them knew what was happening.
Robin continued to work her way through the mass of humanity asking questions, searching for her friend, seeking answers, wondering if food or water were available, wondering what was next. She asked dozens of people the same questions, receiving the same blank stares and non-answers each time.
She noticed no one had blankets or bedding. In fact, there were no beds, no chairs, no furnishings at all in the building. There also were no bathrooms or private areas. She didn’t see any kitchen section, no place to prepare food, no place to eat. Worse of all, there was no heat in the place. Basically, the structure was just a huge shell of a prison functioning strictly as a holding cell for the detainees.
The place had no real windows either. The few openings were covered with primitive shutters to keep the cold from blowing inside. Robin opened one of the shutters a bit to look out. She saw several guards walking along the dirt road between buildings. They were smoking cigarettes and laughing as they passed.
Robin moved to return to her children. “They feed us at six,” a man hidden in the shadows of the crowd spoke up. “And again at six in the evening.”
“Oh,” Robin said, happy to have someone’s help. She introduced herself. His name was Joseph. “Inside or outside?” she wanted to know.
“Only been here a day,” Joseph explained. “Most of us were transported here early yesterday morning. We were the first group they caught from Tucson. Then your group came in last night. Anyway, that’s when we ate yesterday. Nothing to write home about. They line us outside for the slop of the day.” He held back a muffled laugh.
Robin was pleased to know they would soon eat. But she had one more urgent question. “Where are the bathrooms?”
Joseph grinned. “They’re outside too, opposite the food line. Not real bathrooms, but that’s what we got.”
Robin shot a smile at Joseph. “Thank you for talking with me. Maybe I’ll see you later.”
“Same to you, ma’am,” Joseph said gracefully. “Oh, one more thing Robin. Do exactly as they tell you. And don’t ask them any questions.”
“Why not?” she naturally asked.
“Because the guards answer all questions with their guns. I watched it happen too many times yesterday. Lost about thirty people.”
Robin stopped. “Oh. Thank you.” She returned to her children and thought about what Joseph had just told her. She checked her watch. It was almost six o’clock, time to eat. Five more minutes went by. People who knew, were getting restless, waiting for the word to get into the food line.
The front door suddenly slammed open causing each person inside to look. He was a huge guard wearing battle gear and a rifle held high. “Out, out, out!” he yelled in a thick Russian accent. Everyone rose, ready to shuffle outside. All except for those poor souls who didn’t survive the night. Those without their medication, the sick, the aged, the hurt, were the first to succumb to the cold and brutal treatment. Dozens of limp, pale bodies lay lifeless on the floor. Some of their husbands or wives, parents or children, friends or just good Samaritans, stayed with the departed.
“Out, out, out!” the soldier shouted again. There had to be a thousand people standing in the structure, maybe double that. It was impossible to count. Ragged, cold, hungry, sick. Scared. They slowly edged their way out the door into the dreary morning light. The brittle air hit them hard. Several other guards yelled and shoved the prisoners into a sorry line.
Those who had been delivered yesterday remembered the routine. Pick up two metal cups from makeshift tables in the middle of the compound yard, stay in line, move toe to heel without saying a word. Dip one cup into a huge metal pot containing some sort of cold watery rice soup, then dip the second cup into a water bucket. Keep moving until you either find a spot outside to eat or return to the building away from the wind.
Some people couldn’t wait, so they ran to the toilet holes. Several men simply leaned against the fence and defiantly pissed through the chain link onto the sentry road. A tower guard saw the men, manned his mounted machine gun and fired the six-hundred rounds per minute weapon. The men dropped immediately, slumping against the fence, their privates still exposed to the elements.
Everyone in line ducked as the shots were fired. Hearing the short screams of the dying men they stayed down until the noise dispersed.
With heads low, the hungry prisoners proceeded through the line hoping they wouldn’t be shot in the back.
Robin held on to her children as they gradually made their way to the tables. They filled their cups the best they could as they were rushed forward.
“I have to go pee,” Jeffrey told his mother.
“Not now,” his mother whispered.
“But I have to go real bad.”
Robin took the rice and water cups from her son. “Hurry up,” she said to him as he dashed off toward the line of nasty holes in the ground.
When he ran back Robin asked Jennifer if she had to go too. “No Mommy,” she said. She had to go, but she was too afraid to use those toilets. There was no place to sit.
Most of the captives carried their cups and moved inside to find a spot on the floor. Joseph, the man who had spoken to Robin earlier, walked by her and her children. “Told you it was nothing to write home about,” he said, referring to the terrible meal.
She offered a small smile and nodded.
“Later they’ll be taking people out in groups to process them,” Joseph said, like he was an authority on camp procedures. “They’ll get your information, give you a number, and an arm band. Don’t give them any crucial information. If they think you know something or someone important, they’ll interrogate you, maybe torture you until you tell them. Lot of the people didn’t come back yesterday.”
“What kind of information?” Robin asked. She didn’t know any secrets. She didn’t have anything important to hide. She was a housewife married to a college teacher. She knew nothing they needed. There was no reason to hurt her or her kids.
Joseph went to his spot and said, “I’m just telling you for your own good. Stay silent.”
Robin and her children sat down and leaned against the inside wall. They ate their food, which was horrible tasting, and drank their small portions of water. Robin, like all the other prisoners sat talking quietly, wondering what would happen to them next.
Chapter 38
The President and General Wells were discussing the Chinese-Russian situation. China was promised the western half of the country for its role in activating the EMP. In return, the three trillion dollar debt owed to the Chinese would be dismissed. The Russians were promised trillions of dollars for their part in helping the new American government take over the country under martial law and further the agenda of those in charge.
Neither side could be trusted to be satisfied with their take. They both would want more. Lots more. And with the country in a weak defensive position for some time into the future, China and Russia had a distinct military advantage. The President wasn’
t a stupid man, however. There was no way in hell he was going to allow those commie bastards to stay on American soil. He would string them along as much as possible until the final blow was absolutely necessary. In the meantime, he and his closest advisors would make certain their plans were ready.
There was a knock on the President’s door and the Deputy of the NSA entered. “Excuse me Mr. President. You wanted to review a few things with me. Is this a good time?”
“Perfect timing, Mr. Deputy,” the President said. “Please come in so we can talk.”
“Thank you sir.”
The President spoke. “General Wells will be sitting in with us also.”
The Deputy offered a polite bow to the Secretary of National Defense. He took a seat next to the General.
“You have something to tell me,” the President said.
“Yes. We have several developing concerns. The least of all are the pockets of domestic insurgents in various locations throughout the nation, as General Clayton had indicated. These are small units of loyal, old regime soldiers, veterans’ groups, a few rebellious mobs of older men.” He hinted at a laugh. “The old guys call themselves ‘DOM.’ Dangerous Old Men. But I assure you that none of them are very serious threats to us or our plan.”
The President and General snickered at the acronym. Dangerous old men, my ass, the General thought.
“A few sole renegades are out there trying to gather a force, cause trouble, slow us down. But these people have no communication network, no means of transportation, no strategic planning. They’re just insignificant nobodies trying to be heroes. I’ve been told by the Military Operations Commander that he has these loose ends well under control, Mr. President,” the Deputy reported.
“But these people, these supposed patriots and DOMs, they have weapons. Do they not?” the President asked.
“Yes sir, some.”
The President looked across his desk at General Wells, then back at the Deputy. “I told everyone in the briefing I wanted these ‘loose ends’ dealt with immediately.”
Treasonous Behavior- in the Beginning Page 25