Compound Fracture

by Franklin Horton

  Without breaking eye contact with Jeff, Arthur gestured dismissively to the barn door and the world beyond. "All those men out there, the men that brought you here, they're already dead. I don’t care if they’re your friends, your family, whatever. They’re dead. They just don't know it yet. Nothing you say will either save or further endanger those men. Those cards have been dealt. All you can control is what happens in this little circle right here.” Arthur gestured around the room to emphasize just what circle he was referring to.

  Jeff considered this for a moment. He sighed and slowly released a breath. Arthur detected the slightest hitch in his exhalation. It was a choked-back sob. Jeff was about to cry. He was losing his shit. He was breaking down. It was exactly what needed to happen.

  "If you're going to kill those men, then you're probably going to kill me anyway. What would be the point of me telling you anything?"

  "Oh, there’s different ways to die, Jeff. There’s good ways and there’s bad ways. There’s easy ways and there’s hard ways. There’s taking a quick bullet to the head and then there’s dying inch by inch, piece by piece. But before you get too worried about how you’re going to die, you need to know that our little talk, this exchange between you and me, isn't about saving those men. It’s not even about saving you. It’s about saving those other people out there on the road that haven't got here yet. The people related to you. The people you love."

  Jeff looked even more concerned now. Wherever his mind had been, it snapped back to center with razor focus. Perhaps he hadn't realized that Arthur knew they had families coming. For Arthur’s part, it hadn’t even been a serious feat of intelligence-gathering to arrive at that tidbit of information. It had been the Congressman’s own arrogance, his bragging that he had people on the road. He had been so confident in his ability to take the compound that he didn't even have the families wait for confirmation it was safe to come.

  "Do you have family coming, Jeff?”

  Jeff dropped his head and looked at the ground but he nodded.

  "I used to know your family but it’s been a long time. You were a kid and probably don’t remember me but I visited your home,” Arthur said. “Who’s coming? Your mother? Brothers and sisters?"

  "My mother, my little sister, probably my grandmother. She’s been living with us."

  The fight was gone from Jeff now. He was relaying information with no coercion at all. He was beaten.

  "This is where the burden falls on you, Jeff. Do you love those people?" Arthur was speaking lower now, just above a whisper. It was not the voice of an interrogator. It was the voice of a counselor offering solace, offering assistance with a problem of some gravity. It was the voice of a grandfather passing on wisdom.

  "Yes," Jeff replied, as if the very question was absurd. “Of course I love them.”

  "Did you ever watch those movies, Jeff, where the hero saves the day? This is your opportunity to save the day. You could be that hero, but you have to be man enough to make the tough calls."

  Jeff didn’t respond. He was spiraling into a dark place. Arthur looked back over his shoulder. He nodded at Kevin, who tossed a canvas tool bag to the ground beside Arthur. It landed with a metallic clank. Arthur reached for it and tipped it over, shaking out the contents. An array of tools spilled out. There was a rusty scalpel, pruning shears, a sharp, pointy awl, needle nose pliers, and several zip ties.

  Arthur looked up at Jeff, who was staring intently at the pile of tools. "You know what these are for?"

  Jeff shook his head.

  "I don't believe you," Arthur whispered. "Are you sure you don't know what they’re for?"

  When Jeff refused to bite, Arthur picked up the awl and drove it into the ground with his palm. He reached into the same pile and withdrew the pruning shears, snapping the jaws shut. The metallic clack echoed in the quiet barn. “Little pig, little pig,” Arthur whispered.

  Arthur had Jeff’s undivided attention now.

  "These are tools for the extraction of information, Jeff. These are tools for punching tiny, painful holes into large muscle groups. These are tools for pinching bits of flesh into bloody paste. That rusty scalpel? That’s for what we discussed earlier—the thing about dropping your severed nuts onto the ground. And you know what? If I want to do any of those things, you can’t do a damn thing about it. The only tool you have for saving yourself from the pain is freely giving me the information I want."

  Jeff knew it was true. He sat rigid with fear. He knew the cutting could begin any moment. He hoped, if it did, he would pass out and be spared the agony of a slow death from torture.

  "The way this goes down, Jeff, is that you tell me what I want to know because you want to be a hero. You’re not doing it because you’re afraid of me. You’re doing it because you want to be the guy in the movie who saves his family. You want to be the guy who saves all those families. You tell me what I want to know and maybe I can find a way to stop them from coming here without having to kill them. If you don't tell me what I want to know then you die, the men outside die, and every family member that shows up outside my gate probably dies. That includes your mother, your little sister, and your grandmother. Is that what you want, Jeff?"

  Jeff shook his head. "Am I going to die?" He asked it with such sincerity that he sounded like a small child asking a question for which he dreaded the answer.

  Arthur gave an exaggerated shrug. "Honestly, the jury is still out on that one. Whether you live or die doesn't change the facts of the situation. You can still be the hero, even though you might not be around for the little pat on the back at the end.”

  Arthur stood. “I’ve given you a lot to think about. Unfortunately, you don’t have a lot of time to make your decision. I’ll give you a little time but it won’t be much. That’s just the nature of the situation. When you see me again in a few minutes, things will get real serious. You got me?”

  Arthur didn’t wait for an answer. He was done for now. He felt dirty and slightly nauseous for manipulating the cook but he’d done what he had to do. Hopefully the kid wouldn’t force him to take things any further than he already had.

  10

  Outside the hay barn, the interrogation complete, Arthur stood ramrod straight, his palms shoved into his back pockets, staring off at the mountains. It was how rural men processed the world, immersing themselves in their surroundings, ruminating over their thoughts. He was pulled from that process by the scuffing of gravel behind him. He found Robert approaching, his brow furrowed as he too processed what had just taken place in the dim barn.

  "Kevin still in there?" Arthur asked.

  Robert gestured back toward the barn. "He’s going over some details with the guards. He doesn’t want this guy snatched back from us."

  Arthur nodded absently. “That’s probably a good idea.” He was still distracted, gazing and thinking, trying to figure a way out of the hole they found themselves in.

  "I’ve been thinking," Robert began.

  Arthur shot him a sour look. “I’ve been trying to think too but I’m not getting too far with it. Some thinkers are apparently louder than others.”

  “I’m sorry. What have you been thinking?”

  "If we heavily engage the main camp then the congressman will be forced to pull in all his troops to defend it. That should leave gaps in their coverage. You and Sonyea can try to make another break for it with the horses.”

  “Arthur—”

  Arthur ignored him and continued. “Once you’re gone we’ll see if we can use Jeff in there for leverage to make the congressman pull out and go home. We need more info out of him first but I think we’re off to a good start."

  "Arthur!" Robert said loudly.

  Arthur snapped his head in Robert's direction, both surprised and angered at the man's tone. He glared at him. “What?”

  "Would you listen to me for a second?" Robert said. "I might have an idea."

  "I thought your only idea was to get back to your family as soon as you cou
ld. I thought that’s what you wanted."

  "That was my idea. Earlier," Robert said. "But it was the wrong idea. I told you, I’m here until this is done."

  "What was wrong about that idea? About leaving? What changed your mind?"

  Robert anguished over his response. Honestly, he was unsure of how to put it into words without making himself sound like an asshole but maybe that wasn’t possible. Maybe that was the truth of it. Maybe he had been a selfish asshole and he just needed to embrace that fact and move on with things.

  "I think I’ve had a case of tunnel vision, Arthur. Ever since Grace left for college my biggest fear was how I would get her home if the shit hit the fan. That’s dealt with now. She’s the one who’s home and I'm the one stuck on the road away from my family. It’s a consuming, gnawing fear that just doesn’t let up. But Sonyea reminded me that we've talked to our families and they’re safe. They've dealt with any immediate threats. I still want to get home to them with all my being but maybe I don't want to have regrets when I get there."

  "Regrets?" Arthur asked, raising a single, questioning eyebrow.

  "Regrets that I turned my back on friends. Regrets that I walked away and said this wasn't my fight. Years ago, when I asked if you would help my daughter if she ever came to you, you said yes with no conditions whatsoever. You never said she wasn't your daughter and wasn't your problem. You never said it depended on any conditions. You just said you’d help her in any way possible. You were true to your word. You’ve been a better friend than I was and I apologize for that. I hope you can forgive me."

  Arthur smiled at his friend. "Of course I forgive you. If anyone understands obsessive focus on the mission it's me. This is still our fight, though. I don’t want you to stay out of a sense of obligation. Your presence here is welcome and appreciated but you’re free to go if you want. I won’t think any less of you and we’ll still be friends when this is over.”

  “I’ve thought it through and I’m staying,” Robert said resolutely. “You may not think any less of me but I’d think less of myself.”

  "Sonyea’s good with this?"

  "You heard her yourself. She’s already told me that she’s staying whether I do or not. Even though you two barely know each other, she's apparently a better friend than I am. Maybe a better person in general."

  Arthur patted Robert on the shoulder. "We’re good, buddy. That's all that has to be said about it. So tell me, what’s this plan that you’ve been trying to make me listen to?"

  Robert smiled. "Do you remember the story of the Pied Piper?"

  Arthur screwed up his face as he considered the question, then recollection washed over him. The glimmer of intrigue flared in his eyes like a gas burner coming to life. "I'm listening. Tell me more…"

  That evening Kevin, Sonyea, Arthur, Robert, and the doctor sat on the back deck of Arthur's house. They had just wrapped up a respectable feast of venison steaks, roasted potatoes and carrots, with hot buttered cornbread. The Appalachian sunset queued up over the distant ridges, pausing to make certain it had everyone’s attention before it began a spectacular plummet behind the farthest ridges.

  "An evening like this calls for a sip of bourbon," Arthur said, heading back inside the house.

  "I won't argue with that," Kevin said.

  Arthur returned to the porch with glasses and a drawstring bag about the size of a grapefruit. He spread his goodies on a plastic table and slipped a bottle of bourbon from the bag.

  "Blanton's," Robert said with a degree of respect. "That's good stuff."

  Arthur shrugged. "No use saving it for a day that might never come. Maybe the congressman will have his way with us and toss us out on our ears. If that’s the case, I don’t want him drinking my bourbon. Even if it’s not him, maybe it will be the next band of savage marauders to show up at our gates. So I’ll just live for today. If I want a sip of bourbon, I’ll drink the best I have.”

  Robert took the glass that was offered it to him and raised it in a toast. "To living well today."

  The other men raised their glasses to the toast, Sonyea adding to hers, "To living well today and tomorrow."

  "And tomorrow," the men agreed in a staggered chorus.

  Arthur took his seat in one of the plastic deck chairs and the others followed suit, sipping their bourbon and watching the sun finally crawl off to die, generating an agonizingly unhurried light show.

  “I wonder why people have always been so mesmerized by sunsets,” Robert said. “Is it our brains reacting to the colors or is that the sunset itself serves as a reminder we’ve survived another day?”

  “If you’re that philosophical off one sip of a bourbon then I don’t want to see you drunk,” Kevin scoffed.

  “It must be a writer thing,” Sonyea said, nodding along with Kevin. She knew Robert hated it when people accused him of philosophizing, which made her want to encourage it. Maybe she had a little bit of a mean streak, or maybe he deserved it for the way he’d been acting the last few days.

  “I’ll just keep my thoughts to myself then,” Robert said in mock offense.

  "So what was this Pied Piper thing you mentioned earlier?” Arthur asked. They hadn’t had a chance to discuss it at the barn and he wasn’t in the mood for levity right now. As much as he wanted to sip his bourbon and enjoy the sunset, he couldn’t push away the burden that he was facing right now. The stakes were too high. The lives of his men depended on his decisions.

  Robert hesitated. He’d just taken a sip of his bourbon and speaking would interfere with the ritual. It was a rare treat and not to be wasted. When the moment passed, the bourbon having run its course, he set the glass on the arm of his chair. He was an animated speaker and needed both hands free to express himself.

  "You guys know the basics of the story, right? Some small town in Europe promises to pay this flute player to lead away the rats that have inundated the town. He does his job but they refuse to pay him so he does the same thing with their children, leading them away never to be seen again."

  "Heartwarming," Sonyea said, a disturbed look on her face.

  "Fables are intended to teach morality, not provide happy endings. That's a more modern expectation,” Robert said. “People weren’t always so squeamish.”

  "What does this have to do with our current situation?" Kevin asked.

  “We know from the congressman’s own mouth and from Jeff’s interrogation that their families are on their way here. We also know that they have an armed escort but we don’t know of what size. I would assume small because the congressman would want most of his troops at the front of his operation and not bringing up the rear. We also know where they’re leaving from, thanks again to Jeff. If we can squeeze a little more info out of him we might be able to intercept those families on the road."

  "Whoa! A clash with families is what we’re trying to avoid," Arthur said. "I’m trying to save innocent lives."

  "They're not innocent if they're party to trying to take your place illegally," Sonyea said.

  "If they even know what’s going on," Kevin said. "The congressman might not have explained the details. They might just think that he has a retreat lined up for them without knowing any of the specifics. They may not know his plan rests on displacing the lawful residents of this compound. It would be a shame to kill them all if they had no understanding of what was taking place."

  “Excuse me. Not done here,” Robert said. “Hear me out.”

  Arthur spun his fingers in the air, encouraging Robert to get the story back on track. Time was wasting, bourbon evaporating.

  “Assume we intercept the families on the road and lead them astray, like the Pied Piper leading away the children,” Robert continued. “I haven’t worked out all the details yet, but the point is that we lead them somewhere else. Once we do this, we explain to them that we led them there to save their lives. We tell them that everyone they were going to meet is dead and they need to go back home. Maybe we disable their vehicles and leave them the
re. Take their fuel to prevent them from leaving on their own. Either way, we put them in a state of peril that we can then exaggerate to the congressman and his party. We create a situation where these men across the gate feel that they have to leave and go rescue their families. I don't think that's a move the congressman would expect.”

  Robert looked from face to face and the expressions of the group revealed nothing. Everyone was processing what he said, playing out scenarios and examining options. They were looking for flaws or filling in gaps where he’d left them.

  "It’s possible something along those lines could work," Kevin agreed. "There's a lot that would have to be hammered out. There's the matter of whether those families are in communication with the congressman's party. There's the matter of who we would send out to intercept them and whether we could spare the manpower. Then there’s the matter of how they would even get out of the compound and travel that far without getting killed in the process."

  "I’m willing to go," Robert said.

  Arthur pursed his mouth and shook his head.

  “What?” Robert said, offended. “I can play a role here.”

  "I'm not saying you’re not capable of it, Robert,” Arthur said. “I'm just saying you don't need to do it. There's no reason for you to put yourself in that kind of danger. There are people here who are better trained for that kind of operation than you. I’ll also remind you that none of us have families to worry about. You and Sonyea do."

  "Your men are the very people you need to keep here," Robert said. "You need them to defend this place and create the kind of diversion that would allow us to get out. We also need some way to take their comms out so we can make certain they’re not communicating to the folks on the road."

  "In these steep hills, they're not communicating any distance with handheld radios," Kevin said. “If they're communicating with folks on the road, they’re using big antennas, perhaps mounted at a high point in the hills around the camp. That’s the vulnerability. We destroy antennas and disable comms."