Avalon- The Construction

by L. Michael Rusin

  Mike eyed the man. He wanted to be careful and after a moment said,

  “What proof do you have that those in question who were hanged were innocent?”

  Mike waited for an answer. He watched them as any trained warrior would do in anticipation of any sudden movements. Alvin motioned for two of the men with him to come forward with a wave of his arm. When they came to the front of the group Alvin said to them,

  “Tell Mister Governor and the admiral what you told me.”

  One of the men, a young man appearing to be in his early twenties, tall and slender in build, with a teardrop tattooed at the corner of his left eye, began to tell a story. He spoke in an arrogant manner, sure of himself. He felt confident he was immune from any repercussions by relating a tale he told with the words favoring his argument. He said in a sarcastic manner,

  “These people hanged Andy Clifton and Joe Marston last week. We found their bodies hanging from a Madrona tree in the gulch by Two Stone Canyon. Me and some of the others cut them down and gave them a Christian burial. This sign was around one of them’s neck.”

  He dropped the paper sign to the dirt. Mike stared at the man in front of him.

  Mike waited before responding to the accusation, there was no hurry. A stare had its rewards. He said after a short lull,

  “What makes you think they were innocent?”

  The young man snapped back with another display of arrogance,

  “You hanged them without any proof they did any crimes.”

  Mike repeated his challenge; he was going to be patient as see where this would go,

  “What proof do you have they were innocent?”

  His voice remained even and level; cool and calm,

  The young man was visibly agitated and spoke louder. He was gesturing with his arms and hands. His body movements were jerky.

  “Whatever you said they did, I’m telling you, they didn’t do whatever they were accused of. They were hanged on no evidence and they didn’t even get a trial.”

  His voice was shrill, and the tone elevated considerably.

  Mike repeated his question, sure of the reaction that would be forthcoming,

  “That’s no evidence, simply you spouting a statement that holds no proof. Do you want to be a little more explicit and give us some pertinent details of what you’re alleging?”

  The young man became more agitated. Now he was angry, and it was obvious. He was being called a liar in front of his peers by this man he hated. His voice went up a couple of octaves.

  “I knew them both and they were honest hard-working men who had wives, and they were hanged by your vigilantes. Now they’re dead, and I’m telling you they didn’t do whatever was said they did to get them hanged.”

  Mike again answered the man calmly. This time he was adamant in calling this young man out, he repeated in a level voice all could hear but with an arrogance of his own,

  “You’re still not offering a shred of proof those two were innocent. Let me explain something to you, to all of you, when our Militia catches people in the act of killing, raping and pillaging innocent travelers, there is a trial of sorts and those who perpetrated the crimes are judged and dealt with on the spot by our Militia. We don’t have the luxury of maintaining and staffing a prison and jails to put these people in and wait for a tidy trial before we execute them if that is the judgment. We do what we have to do to stop the rampaging and suffering among innocent people simply traveling down the roads, who are no threat to anyone. By now everyone around here knows what will happen if you’re caught in the act of committing a Capital Crime. Our Militia has allowed some of those we caught to go free.

  “We have our roving patrols trying to assure those innocent travelers can make their way in peace and in safety, without people such as those who were hanged doing what they have been doing to so many of us. Now, let’s hear your proof if you have any.”

  His voice elevated in tone when he delivered the last.

  “I’ll show you my proof!”

  With that statement the young man reached for a pistol tucked in his belt at the small of his back, and as he brought it up into firing position, his head exploded into a bloody mist and he crumpled to the ground. There wasn’t much left of his head as his body fell, it looked like a rubber ball and the air had been released from it. A small cloud of dust sprang up from the body impacting the ground. There was a large hole in the rear of his head and most of his brain was on the ground next to his body still attached loosely to the skull by a few grey strands.

  Those around him were splattered with blood and bone particles. A second later the explosion was heard off in the distance and echoed off the surrounding mountains. Everyone was visibly shaken by the killing. The Gold Nugget people came to a state of extreme alert and agitation. Mike saw this,

  “I wouldn’t go for any weapons if I were you. Our meeting was supposed to be unarmed, and peaceful, as you can see, we are unarmed. If any of you goes for a weapon, you’ll wind up dead like your buddy there. We have people who are very good at reaching out from a distance with lethal force and they will deal with anyone, or all of you, if anyone tries anything. Is that understood? We are prepared to kill you all if we have to.”

  Mike had instinctively leaped toward the young man just as the bullet impacted his head. He was going to kill him himself. The bullet nicked his ear as it went past him. He put a hand to the wound and pressed it firmly. Blood trickled from between his fingers.

  The leader, recognizing he was not prepared for this confrontation, where he was sure to lose, said in a very calm voice, which Mike thought was odd considering what just happened,

  “Of course, you’re right, Admiral, he got what he deserved, and we didn’t come here to fight, simply to talk. There was no justification for him to draw on you like that.”

  He was smooth and convincing, but not to Mike.

  Alvin turned from the admiral and governor and addressed his group,

  “Look boys, these people have the right to protect themselves. Let’s not have any more attempts at gun play I told all of you not to be armed.”

  It was a melodrama, as Mike imagined it.

  The admiral glanced down and saw a boot knife barely visible at the top of Alvin’s boot. This slaver was once referred to as Slasher because of his quickness with a knife. The sun caught it and there was a sparkle which didn’t escape Mike’s eye. Alvin turned and offered a hand to Mike.

  “Please accept my apologies for what happened here. We came in peace and there was no reason for that kid to do what he did. I guess he’ll never do it, again will he?”

  The comment made Alvin laugh. It was a shrill cackle. It sounded evil, as Mike contemplated, Alvin spoke and was smooth,

  “We came to tell our side of it, but apparently that kid lied to us and we bought it. It is our intent to protect those who are innocent. We apologize for his actions and we’ll be on our way. We hope… I hope...this won’t be held against us in the future. We simply want peace. You have helped us in the past and we’re grateful. We would wish for bygones to remain bygones.”

  Mike nodded,

  Mike thought about it as the group turned and headed back down the road toward Gold Nugget, the men were talking amongst themselves as they marched down the road toward their motorcycles parked in the distance. That guy is slick. He is someone we will have to watch and be aware of anytime we have to deal with him. Mike thought about it as the group turned and headed back down the road toward Gold Nugget.

  I think there will come a time when I’ll have to kill him. Mike thought, it but didn’t say it out loud.

  ◆◆◆

  Four of the militiamen led the two captives over toward the sheriff’s office for safekeeping and the jail. They shuffled along after leg chains were secured in place and they were handcuffed. The sheriff was coming down the street in his patrol car and he pulled alongside,

  “What do we have here, Rangers?”

  The man eyed the sheriff
for a brief moment before speaking. He had a deep voice and it was obvious he was tired when he said,

  “We caught these two going through some baggage in an abandoned cart about twenty miles outside of town as we were returning from patrol. They didn’t have a satisfactory answer as to why they were doing the ransacking and they freely admitted the things weren’t their own. We decided to arrest them and let someone else get to the bottom of what they were up to. I don’t know that they were doing anything wrong.”

  He shrugged.

  “But I don’t know they didn’t, either. It’s not our say; it’s going to have to be someone else making that decision.”

  Reaching into his pocket, he continued,

  “We did find these papers on them and I think you and the admiral will find them interesting. My lips are sealed.”

  The sheriff took the papers and said,

  “Okay son have your men take them down to my office and have them locked up. The deputy there can help you.”

  With that, he let his foot ease off the brake and slowly took off. He stuffed the papers into the separation between the seat and the back rest of the passenger seat.

  Several minutes later, the group arrived at the jail and sheriff’s office and went inside. Marcy was there at her desk and a deputy was working on some paperwork. They both looked up as the six men came through the door. Two of the Militia escorted the captives over to a wooden bench, sat them down, and then stood on either side of them.

  The third Militiaman approached the desk,

  “I was instructed to bring these prisoners to the jail by our sergeant. We will assist you in taking them to their cells and if you don’t mind, we’d like to take the handcuffs and leg chains back with us.”

  Marcy smiled and nodded her head,

  “Will, lock these two up.”

  Will got up from his desk and walked toward the large door which led to the cells.

  “This way men.”

  The five of them went through the door and three of them returned to the front office about five minutes later.

  “What are they to be in charged with?”

  Marcy asked.

  “Can’t say, ma’am,”

  said the one who had originally spoken up.

  “We were just told to bring them over here and have them locked up.”

  “Can you at least give me the names of those two?”

  “No ma’am, that’s all we know.”

  Marcy looked at them for a moment and decided to skip any further questioning. She would get to the bottom of this soon enough.

  “Okay boys, thanks.”

  They all smiled and left.

  The deputy said,

  “That was kind of strange.”

  Marcy replied,

  “It’s a strange world we live in these days. Nothing will ever be the way it was before the war. Maybe we need a social get-together to introduce all of our law enforcement types, so we can get to know one another better.”

  Will chuckled,

  “Well, I know they’re tired. Looks like they were rode hard and put up wet.”

  An hour later, the sheriff came into the office. As he walked in the door he asked,

  “Our two new guests make it here safely?”

  Marcy cocked her head toward the door, raised her hand, and her thumb went up as her fingers made a fist. She rocked it from side to side toward the door to the cells.

  The sheriff looked toward the door and said,

  “Good.”

  He turned and went into his private office and shut the door. He took out the papers he had been given by the Rangers and began to read. He stayed there until he heard Mike Reynolds in the front office.

  “Is the sheriff in?”

  He could be heard through the door.

  “You know where to find him.”

  Came the muffled reply.

  “Thanks,”

  he said as he turned the knob on the door, letting himself in, and closing it behind him. Even with hearing it all, he was distracted by the papers he was reading, and didn’t look up until Mike cleared his throat.

  Waving Mike to a chair without looking up he said,

  “Please, make yourself at home. Need anything?”

  “No, Sir.”

  He leaned forward in his chair,

  “Sheriff, I think we have a couple of valuable assets locked up in your cells.”

  It was the sheriff’s turn to lean forward, he had just finished reading the papers and he said in a low voice,

  “You have no idea, my friend.”

  “What do you mean, Bob?”

  The sheriff handed him the papers and said,

  “Read these.”

  Mike leaned back in his chair and began to read. He looked up several times with a questioning look on his face before continuing to read. He eventually looked up and said,

  “It’s going to have to be verified, of course. And,…”

  he sighed,

  “it’s going to take some digging. Did I mention it’s going to be a dangerous job?”

  The sheriff agreed.

  “Mike, this sounds pretty serious.”

  “It’s so serious that I’m not comfortable talking about it here. What say we go for a ride and I’ll explain?”

  They both got up and walked toward the door to the office.

  “Before we leave,”

  Mike suggested,

  “How about you make sure nobody talks to those two prisoners.”

  “I guess you’re gonna explain that later, too?”

  Mike just raised an eyebrow and the corner of his lips lifted.

  He paused and said kind of laughing,

  “Age before beauty.”

  “Guess I should go last then!”

  Mike laughed as he stepped through the door into the outer office.

  “Marcy, Will,”

  the sheriff called to them,

  “Can you please get those two prisoners something to eat and drink, and don’t let anyone talk to them or come and see them without my explicit orders okay?”

  “You got it, Sheriff.”

  Chapter 32

  The Parachutists

  Mike and the sheriff walked out the door and made their way to the sheriff’s parked car. Both men got in. They traveled toward the airport and the sheriff was getting more nervous as each minute passed.

  “Well Mike, what do you think?”

  “Sheriff, we may have a huge problem in Chicago.”

  “It sure seems that way; we’re talking treason on a huge scale.”

  Mike sighed as he let the out his breath. He sat there watching things go by out the window and said finally,

  “If it’s true, and the man who says he is our legitimate president is not, we’re going to have to do something about it. Exactly what, I’m not sure, but we will have to do something. We aren’t big enough, and we don’t have the resources to go to war with our own people and government, yet.”

  The sheriff pulled the car over to the side of the road and stopped. He got out of the car and leaned on the hood. He clenched his hands together and said softly,

  “Wow! This is a bad news. What do we do about it?”

  “Whatever we do, we’re going to have to walk a fine line, and we cannot under any circumstances let anyone know we have found this out. If anyone finds out we know this, our lives won’t be worth a plugged nickel. This is a dangerous situation.”

  The sheriff bowed his head; his voice was low and nearly a whisper as he spoke.

  “Mike, we’ve weathered a world war, almost everyone on earth has died, and we have struggled to protect and feed ourselves. We’ve lost friends to these senseless battles, we’ve had to fight, and now this. When does it end?”

  Mike looked at his friend intently, he reached out and put a hand on the sheriff’s shoulder.

  “Sheriff, it never ends until you die. We just take it moment to moment, and if we’re lucky, things come out in the end; and th
ere’s more.”

  “More?”

  His voice sounded as if he didn’t believe there could be more.

  “What is it?”

  “Well, I only got bits and pieces, but those two men you have in your jail parachuted from a plane yesterday and they were trying to get to Gold Nugget. The new president of our government is somehow aligned with Gold Nugget or wants to be. They misjudged the drop zone and fell short of their objective. We got lucky by pure chance.”

  “Jesus Mike. This isn’t good.”

  “It sure isn’t sheriff and no matter what, we have to make sure those guys never get to Gold Nugget and tell their stories. I’m guessing, but our freedoms and our very lives and all of us at Fitch and Avalon could be at risk.”

  “What are we gonna do Mike?”

  His concern was genuine.

  “The only thing we can do, Sheriff, take them out of that cell tonight when everyone is asleep and shoot them in the head. Then I have to come up with an excuse to get myself to Chicago.”

  The sheriff was physically jolted when he heard that and flinched. It was obvious. This man was a law enforcement official not an assassin. His sense of fair play didn’t include killing someone in cold blood. He had concerns about this and said so.

  “Mike, what if what we’ve heard isn’t true? We can’t go killing people based on circumstantial evidence.”

  Mike stared at the ground and after thinking about the sheriff’s response, said,

  “I’m going to interrogate them tonight before I do anything. I have a few tricks to use during an interrogation, and I’m hoping I can get an answer that will be truthful. Let’s head back now, Sheriff, and remember, keep this between us for the time being. It is crucial we do not let anyone know that we know about this plan. We have to get that paperwork to a safe place. We cannot lose it under any circumstances. Is there someone we can get to copy it word for word and keep their mouths shut about it?”

  The sheriff knew someone, it was Marcy, and she wouldn’t say a word even if someone was poking her with a hot branding iron. She could be trusted, he knew that and said,

  “I will see to it and I will guard them with my life.”