A Trip to Normal

by Ray Wench

  He stopped for a second to get a better grip and checked on the progress of the chase. All the boats were still moving, but the gap between them had closed. It wouldn't be long before they realized their prey was not on board. His wet clothes, coupled with his exhaustion and Kendra's slight, but extra weight, made the going slow. Twice he had to stop to reposition Kendra. He strained to see the coast and refocused all attention to listen for the sound of waves crashing against the rocks.

  A sudden flash of light pierced the darkness about fifty yards almost directly in front of them. He skulled the water, holding them afloat but in place, as he stared at the location. Had he imagined it? No, there it was again. Like someone flicking a flashlight on and off. Was someone signaling them? Maybe Bobby and Becca had found him. He kicked in that direction. The light flashed again a minute later.

  Halfway to where he'd seen the light, Mark became aware of the sound; or rather, the lack of sound. The boats had stopped. Damn!

  He didn't want to take the time to look. Instead, he increased his pace. The light flashed again. They were close. The light was behind them. Confused, he stopped and paddled in a circle. It wasn't the light he had seen before, the source of this light came from the boats pursuing him. Several had turned on spotlights and were shining them around the water. They had discovered his ruse.

  He pushed harder toward the land light, but it did not blink again. Perhaps whoever was signaling feared being discovered by the boats.

  Three more kicks and pain exploded in his shin. He muffled a yelp but had to stop swimming until it subsided. He held the injured leg bent at the knee and the other foot touched bottom. He set it down on the uneven rocky bottom and put weight on it. Though still in pain, he walked onto the shore.

  “Kendra, we found land. I'm going to put you down, but keep hold of my hand.”

  He set her down and felt the small trembling hand in his. He scanned the shore, but only darkness surrounded them. Like the whispered voice of a siren, someone said, “Here. Take my hand.”

  Mark jumped and fumbled to reach his gun.

  “You're safe, but hurry. Those spotlights are getting closer.”

  Mark took another step and with both hands lifted Kendra from the water. He held her in front of him. Movement, then two strong hands gripped and took her from his grasp. Stepping from the water, fighting to maintain his balance on the rocks, Mark reached behind him for his gun, but the voice stopped him.

  “Leave whatever weapon you're reaching for right where it is. We have three guns pointed at you. We don't want to shoot, but we don't want to get shot either. If we'd wanted you dead, you would be, or we wouldn't have bothered signaling you.”

  Mark couldn't be sure if what the man said about the guns pointed at him was true, but decided not to take the chance. Besides, what the man said, made sense. Why rescue them if only to kill them? He lifted his arms in case they could see him better than he saw them. An arm took his and pulled and guided him to the safety of the trees. Before he had a chance to move or defend, a hand patted him, found and removed the gun.”

  “Any other weapons on you?”

  Mark hesitated. He had the knife, but could they see it? He chose to take the risk. “No.”

  “Not even a knife? Come on, everyone carries a knife.”

  That was true. He insisted that all of his people had one on them at all times. He slid the long knife from its sheath and handed it, handle first, outward. A few seconds later a hand found and took it.

  “If you're here to save us, why take my weapons?”

  “Trust is not an easy thing to give these days. If we feel you're no risk to us, they'll be returned.”

  A beam of light swept and probed the trees. “Get down!” a voice said. Mark ducked but noted it was a different one from the first one. There were at least two of them.

  As the light moved on, Mark asked, “Where's the girl?”

  “Don't worry,” a female said, “I've got her. She's safe.”

  “Who are you?”

  “For the time being,” the first man said. “We'll ask the questions. Come. Let's get away from the water to someplace we can talk.”

  As they walked, Mark inched his right hand into his pants’ pocket. He withdrew and palmed his pocket knife. They walked on for several minutes. Every few seconds, whoever was leading turned on the flashlight to illuminate the path. Mark tried to use the quick bursts to size up the number and position of his rescuers.

  A short time later, the first voice, said, “Let's stop here for that talk.” The light blinked at Mark's feet. The small group circled. He thought he noticed four other sets of legs besides his and Kendra's.

  “Why were you being chased by the raiders?”

  “Raiders? Is that what you call them?”

  “We'll ask the questions. Please answer.”

  At least his interrogator was polite. He saw no reason not to give them the information. It didn't sound like they were involved with the kidnappers. But, they could be a different group of abductors.

  “They kidnapped this girl and another woman. I was rescuing them.”

  “Liar!” the woman shouted. “We saw you. You traded that woman for food. He's just as bad as they are, Elijah. Worse. He sold her out for his own gain.”

  Tension constricted his chest. Beads of sweat dribbled down his forehead. He wiped it with the sleeve of his left arm, keeping the right down by his leg where he flicked open the blade.

  “That's true. We did see you. You should know, we have reason to hate them and others like them for what they've done to us. If we decide you are one of them, your death will be quick.”

  “But painful,” the woman added.

  Mark blew out a long breath and forced himself to relax. If he had to strike, he needed to be fast and fluid.

  “I can explain, but not if you've already passed judgment.”

  “At this point, you're still being treated with courtesy. We always try to be fair. The world may have changed, but that doesn't mean we can't be civilized. Go ahead. Explain.”

  “My name's Mark.”

  “Who cares!” the woman was clearly against him.

  “Darlene,” the leader said in a calm, but stern voice. “Give him his chance.”

  Mark edged toward the woman. If things went south, she would most likely be first to react. She probably had her weapon aimed at him already. He planned to take her down, use her body as a shield.

  “I come from a large community about an hour to the west. I came here with others to fish. We're trying to build up our food stores for the winter.”

  “Aw Elijah, he is such a liar. He's the only one we saw. It was just him and the black woman in that boat. Let me gut him now.” Her anger was so strong Mark could almost touch it.

  “Elijah, am I going to get that fair chance you talked about?” He sidestepped again. Judging by the sound of her voice, he thought he was within a step and a lunge from her.

  “Darlene, let him talk or leave.”

  “This is bullshit!”

  “Proceed, Mark.”

  “Like I said, I came here with others. We went out to fish but were approached on the lake by an armada of small craft. We fled back to the marina and hid. However, when a party landed to search for us, they found a family of four; man, woman, boy and girl. The man was shot. My kids took him and the boy back to our home, where there's a doctor.”

  Quiet muttering swept around the circle at the mention of a doctor.

  “We stepped in to rescue them but, although we saved the woman, during the gun fight the raiders escaped with the girl. The woman, Shavonne, refused to leave without her, so she devised a plan where I would appear to trade her for food. If she got onboard the ship, she would search for the girl. Shavonne made me promise that if she saved her, but not herself, I was to get the girl to safety and leave her there.” He paused expecting comment. “That's what happened. She found the girl, dropped her overboard, but she was unable to jump. Basically, she sac
rificed herself for the child.”

  “He doesn't even know her name,” the woman spat.

  She wanted him dead, not caring about the truth of his story. Kendra began crying softly. Someone made comforting sounds.

  “Anyway, that's what you saw. I picked up the child and made a run for safety. Oh, and her name's Kendra.”

  A voice behind him said, “Do you have any way of proving your story?” Unlike the woman, it hadn't been said in anger.

  Mark gave the question some thought. “Other than what you saw and what Kendra can confirm, no.” He swallowed to steady his voice and not sound nervous. “And trust runs both ways. How do I know you won't just take Kendra and do the same things those pirates would've?”

  “You don't, you’ll have to take our word for it. But turning the question back around to us does not alter the decision still to be made about you.”

  “I'll agree to trust you if you at least give me the benefit of doubt.”

  “Let's vote,” the woman said. “I vote to kill him.”

  The lead man chuckled, which made Mark more nervous. He inched a bit closer and readied the knife. He tried to estimate height and distance, knowing his first strike had to be good.

  “Why doesn't that surprise me? Anyone else?”

  “I vote to give him a chance,” a voice said from behind.

  Another voice to the right said, “I'm with Darlene.”

  “Okay,” said the leader. “I'm with Paul. Two-to-two.”

  “Bullshit!” Darlene exclaimed again. Movement and sound gave Mark the impression she had cocked and leveled her weapon at him. That changed his approach. He would have to duck and dive to the side.

  “We need a tie breaker,” the voice behind said.

  “Why don't we let Kendra decide,” the leader suggested. “After all, if anyone knows about this man's intentions, it's her.” He paused to let that idea sink in. “Everyone agree?”

  Everyone, including Darlene, was willing to let Kendra decide Mark's fate. He tried to think back if he'd done or said anything to sway her against him. Did she understand he saved her life? He wasn't sure. She might see him as the man who handed over Shavonne.

  A rustling of clothes and the flicker of a narrow beam of light showed the leader, a light-skinned black man, squatting next to the visibly shaking young girl. “What do you say, Kendra? Did he save you, or is he a bad man?”

  The small dark eyes flitted his way, locked on his eyes for a second, then slid back to Elijah's. “He pulled me from the water and kept me away from the bad men.”

  Mark was relieved, until, “I think he tried to drown me though.”

  His eyes flew to Elijah. He felt his body moving before he had given it the command. Mark lunged for Darlene. With the light still on, he saw her weapon was aimed low in his direction, but her eyes were on the child.

  Everything morphed into slow motion. Darlene's head turned, her eyes widened, and the gun rose. Mark adjusted his height and movement, so he blew past the barrel of her rifle and to the side of her body. With the knife hand, he batted the barrel down, while the other snaked around her body and up to her neck. He slid behind her and pressed the knife to her throat.

  “Everyone freeze and stay calm,” Mark ordered.

  No one moved except Elijah. He stood and studied Mark through casual eyes. “This is not the move of an innocent man.”

  “To quote our friend here, ‘Bullshit!’ I've done nothing wrong and to place my fate in your hands seems foolish at best.”

  “Shoot the bastard!” Darlene yelled.

  “I don't want trouble. I still need to find a way to get Shavonne off that ship and you're costing me time.”

  The other two members of the group spread out and aimed their weapons.

  “What's it gonna be, Elijah. Peace or death?”

  “I'd say at this point that's entirely up to you. I promise you this, Darlene may be a hothead, but she's one of us. If you hurt her, I will order your death.”

  Mark thought it was exactly what he would say if the roles were reversed. “I don't want to hurt her, but I'm not ready to die. Walk away and let us go and I'll release her.”

  “We could do that, but we haven't established any trust. Besides, I'm not sure we should allow Kendra to go with you.”

  “If I can trust that you won't take advantage of her, I'll let her decide what she wants to do.”

  “You'd be willing to do that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” It seemed such a strange question. “Her safety is the most important thing. I gave my word to keep her safe. Besides, I can't do what I need to, to save Shavonne if I have to protect her as well.”

  Elijah appeared to ponder his words. “And you do plan on trying to rescue Shavonne?”

  Mark wondered if that sounded as absurd to them as it now did to him. “I'm not sure I can rescue her, but she deserves my effort.”

  Elijah raised his voice a bit and issued a command. “Everyone lower your guns.” The other two looked at him with surprised expressions. “I'm serious. I trust Mark to not hurt Darlene or us. Go ahead. Show good faith and lower them.”

  In staccato movements, the guns were aimed downward.

  “No,” Darlene said, “don't trust him. Mark pulled the knife from her throat. Immediately, Darlene stomped on his foot, spun and threw an elbow at his head. Mark ducked, and the strike glanced off the top of his head. In a flurry of motion, Darlene launched an all-out attack, throwing punches and kicks in a steady and practiced pattern.

  Mark was able to block most of them, but the ones that landed, hurt. Not wanting to injure her, but unwilling to take much more abuse, Mark counterpunched one attack with a short jab under the sternum and Darlene collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.

  As Mark looked up all three of the others had weapons trained on him again, only now he was without benefit of a human shield.

  Twenty-Five

  The sun was a hint of color on the eastern horizon as the three-vehicle caravan saw the barricade across the highway ahead. Mel stopped. “What do you think?” she asked Tara. The small, muscular black woman, leaned forward and squinted. “Well, it was certainly put there on purpose.”

  Lynn grabbed the two front seats and pulled herself forward. She pointed. “That's their SUV.”

  Mel looked where Lynn pointed. “Are you sure?”

  “As sure as I can be without taking a closer look.”

  Tara said, “Looks like it's been in one heck of a battle.”

  Cold fingers ran up Lynn's spine. Tara was right. Much of the glass had been blown out and bullet holes dotted the body like a deadly form of acne. Tara lifted binoculars to her eyes and studied the area.

  “I see legs moving on the far side under the semi. Someone's there, waiting to ambush us. We need to turn around.”

  “No!” Lynn said. The tension made her voice a higher pitch than normal. “Bobby, Lincoln and the others may be in trouble. We need to take a closer look.”

  “They may also be dead already and getting us killed isn't the best way to find out,” Tara said.

  “Please don't say that, Tara. I can't think like that. I have to believe they're all right and need us to rescue them.”

  Tara looked at Mel. “Not this way, Lynn. We have to retreat to safety and come back on foot.” She put the glasses back to her eyes. Mel looked at Lynn. “She's right, Lynn. I'm sorry.”

  Lynn sighed. “I know, Mel.” She lifted the radio and keyed the mic. Before she could speak, Tara grabbed her arm and pulled the radio down. “I'm trying to call them. Maybe they're not even there.”

  “Or maybe they are and they're hiding. The radio will give away their position. If they are prisoners, whoever has them will be alerted we're with them. They can be used as leverage against us.”

  Lynn sighed, put a thumb and forefinger to her temples and massaged the building pressure.

  “Looks like a group of people coming down the hill to the
right from that apartment complex,” Mel announced. “They're armed.”

  Tara said, “Time to go.”

  Mel made a U-turn and the other two vehicles followed. She drove until the road curved enough that they were no longer in sight of the barricade. She pulled to the side of the road. The three women got out and waited for the other transports to do the same.

  In all, they had ten people in their rescue team. The three women rode in Tara's SUV. A minivan carrying four men from the community and the group’s equipment followed, and a jeep with three soldiers from the nearby Air National Guard post, brought up the rear.

  Tara and the three soldiers joined the group near the minivan. One of the soldiers, Corporal Ward, said, “We can backtrack and take Route 2. It runs right past the marina.”

  Tara shook her head. “Lynn thinks the shot-up SUV on the side is the one the first group took.”

  Ward's face seemed to droop. “Aw, shit!”

  Private Menke said, “We can bust that barricade up with the .50 cal.”

  Tara again shook her head. She wore the uniform of a captain and had been Air Force before the apocalypse. “That's a last-resort option. I don't want to get into an all-out war with these people if we can avoid it. I also don't want to use up all of the .50s ammo.”

  Lynn said, “Let's try to find a less combative way of finding out if our people are prisoners, or—”

  “We could send someone with a white flag to talk to them, but I'm not sure who you'd get to volunteer for that,” said Mel.

  “I'm not willing to risk anyone else's life,” Lynn said. “I'll do it.”

  'Wait! What!” Mel said, her voice raised an octave. “No. I was kidding. That could be suicide.”

  “We have three choices here,” said Lynn. “We can shoot it out with them and hope we don't take any casualties, but one of them is still alive to tell us what we want to know. We can try to talk to them peacefully.”

  “And pray they don't shoot you,” interrupted Mel.