by Ryan King
“Is this about David?”
“No...yes...maybe, I don’t know. And now you’ve gone and sent our only surviving son off on a dangerous mission to the south. Aren’t their others who can do that?”
“Who told you?” he asked.
“Alexandra.”
“Who told her? It was supposed to be a secret mission.”
“I don’t know,” she answered. “I guess some husbands and wives talk about things. It may seem strange to you at first, but give it a shot.”
“I hate it when you get this way.”
She glared at him. “Well, I’m not capable of being any other way right now. I’m tired and my head hurts. We talked about you pulling back, doing less. Then you go and agree to run for vice president without talking to me, and oh yeah, we both know that will not be the end of it. You’ll be president after Reggie until you either have a heart attack or are assassinated.”
Nathan shrugged. “He needs me.”
Bethany walked over and grabbed his left hand in both of hers. She touched the wedding ring. “This means I need you, now.” She reached for his right hand and touched the EX brand. “This means you’ve done more than enough.” Her eyes grew sad. “Don’t you understand? When they sent you away, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, or Joshua. I was going to raise our daughter without you. All I thought about was how many things I had gotten wrong or not done, and I wished I had another chance. Now we have that chance. It may be our last one. Let’s make time to be happy together. To raise our daughter.”
“I am happy,” Nathan said. “Aren’t you happy?”
She let go of his hand. “Sometimes. Mostly I’ll settle for being content and safe. Other times, I think of all we’ve been through and what we’ve lost and I just need you and you’re not there.”
Nathan stared at her, not sure what to say.
“Don’t you look at me like that,” Bethany said. “I’m not some delicate flower of a woman. I’ve kept our family going while you were off in warzones around the world, and I’ve dealt with things you’ll never know. I survived that horrific march from Maryland here. I’m not having a weak moment. Please, let go, for me.”
“Who will do it if I don’t?”
“Someone, I promise you, someone will. Nathan, I love you, but listen to yourself. Aren’t you the one who always said no one is irreplaceable?”
“This is different. Ernest Givens is a serious challenger; he might even win.”
“Would that be such a bad thing? Reggie could stand to spend more time with Janice as well.”
“Am I just supposed to retire and do nothing? With everything that’s going on? I’m not old, and I’m able to help.”
“You could do something that keeps you around here,” she offered. “The New Harvest County Executive is still vacant. We need someone good there. It hasn’t been the same since Harold Buchannan died.”
The thought of Harold gave him pause. She was right in a sense. There were needs closer to home.
River wailed from the adjacent room. Bethany’s face dropped, and Nathan noticed how exhausted she was. He hated himself for being so self-absorbed as to not notice it earlier. She moved towards their daughter.
He grabbed her by the arm. “I’ll get her. You go lay down for a bit.”
She smiled back at him in gratitude. “Maybe just for a little while. I can’t seem to shake this cold, and I feel the fever coming back.”
“Have you taken any aspirin?”
“You know we’re all out; everyone’s out.”
“Sorry,” he said. “Just a habit to ask. Go lay down. I’ve got this.”
Nathan went in and picked up their daughter, and she grinned and laughed at the sight of him. He realized she was wet and reached for one of the cloth diapers nearby. He supposed changing a diaper was like riding a bicycle.
He picked his daughter up and bounced her around the house. She didn’t seem hungry, which was good; he didn’t want to have to wake Bethany to feed her. After a while, River started to nod off again, and he gently placed her back in her crib.
Walking into the bedroom, he found Bethany sleeping fitfully. He touched her forehead and found it both hot and clammy. She tossed away from him.
There was a heavy knock on their front door, and he rushed towards the sound before someone woke either Bethany or River. He pulled open the door just as a soldier in uniform was about to knock again. Surprised, the soldier snapped to attention and saluted Nathan while handing out a piece of paper.
Nathan returned the salute, then took the letter. The man spun on a heel and was striding purposefully away when Nathan called out to him. “Soldier?”
The man halted and turned again, attentive. “Yes, sir.”
“I need you to go to that cabin right there”—he pointed at the adjacent cabin—“and tell the nice lady that her son needs her. Can you do that?”
“Yes, sir,” the soldier said and took off at a brisk walk towards the cabin.
Nathan tore open the letter and sighed in frustration. It was always something. He would have loved nothing more than to stay with Bethany and River, especially now, but he already knew duty called. Like a good man had said before, there was never an acceptable excuse for not doing one’s duty.
Thank God my mother is here, he thought. She can take care of things while I’m away.
Reading the letter, he sighed and hung his head before going back into the house. He began to pack and make plans for what lay ahead.
Unfortunately, what lay ahead was worse than he could imagine.
Chapter 14 – Tax Day
Trailer heard one of his companions fall again behind him. Looking back, he discovered it was Simon this time. Jessica had stopped beside him as well, her hands rested on her knees as she sucked in air.
They can’t go much longer, he realized.
Simon struggled to his feet slowly.
Trailer walked over and took the rifle from Simon’s hand, handing him his cudgel in return. Simon looked at the stick as if he didn’t know what it was.
“Stay here,” Trailer said and pointed to some bushes off to the side. “Hide there until I come back.”
“What are you going to do?” Jessica asked.
“Go see if we’re being followed.”
“And if we are?”
“Take care of it,” Trailer said and began walking back the way they had come before there could be any further talking.
The assault rifle felt awkwardly small in his hands, like a child’s toy, and he hoped he didn’t have to use it. After walking a couple of hundred yards, he stopped and took a knee beside the trail. Trailer looked around and then closed his eyes to listen.
He heard nothing except the wind and the birds.
Good enough, he thought and stood to head back to his companions. He found them where he had left them and traded the rifle back for his cudgel.
“Are we safe?” Simon asked.
“Relatively so, yes. At least for now.”
“Can we go back for the rice?” Jessica asked.
Trailer looked at her sadly. “You already know the answer to that.”
“That’s your payment too, you know,” she told Trailer. She looked like she might cry. “I can’t go back home. Not after losing everything.” A curious look appeared on her face, the panic transforming into realization.
“Sure you can,” said Simon helpfully. “I’m sure your father would understand. You can go back if you want.”
She stared at him with burning intensity. “But what if I don’t want to? It’s not like he can come looking for me.”
Simon’s face scrunched up in confusion. “But won’t you miss your family?”
“What family? My father hasn’t been the same since my mom died, and the lady he married is a whore.”
“I’m sure she’s not that bad,” said Simon.
“No, I’m serious,” Jessica said. “He met her at Spencer’s where she worked as a whore. Still does.”
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“Well, every family’s got its peculiarities, I guess,” said Trailer.
Jessica shook her head stubbornly. “I’m not going back. Not ever. I’ll start a new life somewhere else.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” said Trailer. “We’re still working on not being dead. There’s some work to be done in that department.”
“Do we have to keep running?” Simon asked.
Trailer thought for a moment. “I don’t think so, but we’ll need to move with a purpose. I’m going to try to cut north if possible. Maybe we can avoid the Creek Nation. I just wish I knew where we were exactly.”
“What?” asked Jessica. “Aren’t you the guide?”
“Doesn’t mean I know every square inch of ground. Don’t worry. As long as we head in the general right direction, something will become familiar.”
He looked around at where they were. “We should probably start by getting out of this little creek bottom and back up on a road. Take a few more minutes to catch your breath, and then we need to move.”
After passing around a canteen, they stood wearily and followed Trailer north. After about half an hour, they stumbled out onto a gravel road and turned northeast. They walked for several hours through fields and small farms under a gray overcast sky. At times, they would see someone through a window or working in a garden, but no one greeted them.
Simon caught Jessica smiling. “What’s so funny?”
She looked at him surprisingly, and the smile vanished. “Nothing, what are you talking about?”
“You just looked happy, I guess. Something’s evidently changed.”
Jessica walked silently beside him for a few minutes before speaking. “You know that cart of rice was heavy. It pulled me all over the place. Pulled me back going uphill and pushed me forward going downhill.”
“You probably feel like you’re floating now without it.”
“Exactly,” she said. “And it’s not just the cart. Other burdens lifting away as well.”
They rounded a corner and came upon a small house set back among a group of trees. A man, woman, and two small boys stood on the front porch looking in the direction Trailer was walking. When they saw him, a look of surprise registered on their faces.
“Howdy, folks,” called out Trailer in his most jovial voice. “Would you mind telling me where this road leads to?”
The woman looked down at their feet, and Trailer saw there were sacks of vegetables and what looked like dried corn.
“To another road,” the man said curtly.
“Very helpful, but could you be more specific?”
The woman looked at them incredulously. “If you ain’t from around here, you picked the wrong day to be lost.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s Creek Tax Day,” the man said, pointing at the bags at their feet. There was a sound of hooves on gravel coming down the road. “I suspect that’s them now.”
Before Trailer could react, three riders cantered into sight behind them. They pulled a long trail of horses on lead ropes packed with what Trailer assumed were other collected taxes. They pulled up in the front yard and surrounded Trailer, Jessica, and Simon.
“They’re not with us,” the man on the porch told the Creek. “They just walked down the road a few minutes ago. Our tax is right here, down to the last kernel of corn.”
An Indian in front wearing a cowboy hat turned to Trailer. “Is that true?”
“How should I know? I haven’t counted their corn.”
He leveled the lever-action rifle he had been holding on his saddle horn at Trailer. The other two riders did the same.
“Go inside now,” the man on the porch told his family, and they complied.
“Easy now,” said Trailer. “No need to get upset. We’re just passing through.”
“There is no ‘just passing through’ Creek lands without permission.”
“I’ve heard that, but it was an accident. We were attacked west of here by the Cossacks or Devils or someone and had to run.”
“Where you going?” the Creek asked.
Trailer pointed at Simon and Jessica. “North to the JP. I’m a guide.”
“Not a very good one evidently,” said one of the other Creek.
“Hey,” said Trailer, “you got any openings in the Native American IRS? I’ll be glad to apply. Otherwise, I do what I can.”
The Creek looked at Simon and Jessica before pointing at Simon. “You. What’s your story? You’re different from those new clothes to that clean rifle. Where’d you come from? Tell the truth, or we’ll kill you and leave your bodies for these good folks to bury.”
Simon thought about lying, but couldn’t think of anything to say except the truth. Besides, the man looked as if he could see right through Simon.
“I’m looking for a place to settle down. For me and my friends.”
“These two?” asked the Creek.
“No. About twenty more,” Simon answered. “We can’t stay where we’re at any longer.”
Trailer and Jessica were looking at him curiously.
“And where are you living now?” he asked.
“Would you believe me if I said an underground government bunker?”
The three Indians appeared startled and looked at each other. “Like from her story,” one of them said.
The lead Creek stared at Simon with deep dark eyes. “They’re more rifles in this bunker like the one you’re carrying?”
“Yes,” said Simon. “Thousands of them.”
“You’ll come with us,” the Creek finally said, lifting his rifle to rest again in his pommel horn. “The prophetess may want to talk to you...and we need guns.”
“Who doesn’t?” asked Trailer.
Two saddleless horses were led forward on lead ropes and indicated that Simon and Jessica should climb up on them. The Creek then counted the tax on the front porch, wrote something in a notebook, handed the man what might have been a receipt, and then loaded the corn and vegetables into a horse.
“What about me?” asked Trailer.
“You’re too big,” the head Creek said. “You’d make a good horse swaybacked. You’ll have to run along beside us...or be on your way if you like. I doubt the prophetess would be interested in a simple guide.”
“I can just go?” Trailer asked.
“Sure. Better be out of Creek territory by nightfall though. That dark skin of yours would make a pretty saddle cover,” answered the Creek, and turned heading down the road they had just come. The other four riders followed along with string of pack horses.
Simon and Jessica looked back at him, and the girl finally gave him a small smile and a wave.
Trailer watched them until they were out of sight. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a pump shotgun chambering a round.
He turned to find the man still standing on his porch, now leveling a shotgun in his direction. “Get off my property, now.”
Trailer slowly backed away to the edge of the road. He then turned and looked north and then south.
“Oh, damn it to hell,” he said and started running south after the horses.
Chapter 15 – Milan Depot
Vincent Lacert was disappointed they hadn’t encountered any resistance on the way to Milan Depot. The West Tennessee Republic forces were no more and JP elements were far to the north. The few criminal gangs along their route got one look at the heavily armed convoy and fled.
Near Milan Depot, Vincent sent a small reconnaissance element forward, which returned to tell him that twenty JP soldiers guarded the facility. None of them appeared very alert and many were asleep.
“Attack fast and without hesitation,” he told his commanders. “We can’t allow them to barricade themselves in the facility. I also need prisoners, so don’t start executing people until we’re done with them.”
Several of the commanders looked at each other at the expectation of executing prisoners, but none said anything.
They left all the vehicles under a security detachment and made their way forward on foot in three groups. Vincent stayed to the rear where he could control all the elements. Once they were all in position, Vincent ordered the assault. After several short minutes of intense shooting and explosions, it was over.
“Reaper 6, this is Reaper 3, over,” said Vincent’s radio.
“This is Reaper 6, go ahead.”
“Objective is secured.”
Vincent motioned his driver forward, and they raced down the paved road and through the chain-link barrier his men had blown open. The vehicle screeched to a halt in front of the depot. A line of stunned men, several of them wounded, were on their knees in front of armed guards. A small stack of bodies were being piled up to the side.
He stepped out of the vehicle and walked up to the kneeling men. “Who’s in charge here?”
“I am,” said a voice to Vincent’s left.
He walked over to a gray-haired man with strong features. “What’s your name?”
“Captain Rueben Bonnett.”
“Captain, I presume you know the codes to access the secure locations within the depot.”
“I do,” Reuben said and then looked up at Vincent. “And you’re not getting them.”
Vincent pulled the pistol from its holster at his hip and placed the barrel on the captain’s forehead. The man looked back impassively.
Moving the barrel of the pistol to the right, Vincent shot the next man in line in the head. Droplets of blood splattered on both Reuben and Vincent. The body toppled over slowly to the ground.
“How about now?” Vincent asked.
“You bastard.”
Vincent stepped to the left and shot the man on the other side of Reuben.
“Stop it!” said a voice to the right. “I know the codes. I’ll give them to you.”
“Shut your mouth, Sergeant!” yelled Reuben.
Vincent backhanded the captain with his pistol, feeling the cheek and eye bones cave in. He walked down the line to stand in front of the man who had spoken. “You’re telling the truth?”
The man nodded. “I’ll tell you, just let us go.”
