John turned and hollered back to the women, “Get the kids and everyone inside the house.”
Jared caught up to John as the two reached the front yard. The roar of the helicopter was deafening after months of literal silence living in the hilly California countryside. In the days before the event, a passenger jet could fly over and no one gave it a thought. Most people’s brains were trained to tune the sound out completely. Now this helicopter was about the loudest thing Jared could ever remember hearing in his entire life, including the days before the event.
As the helicopter settled onto the grassy earth, men leaped off and began setting up a perimeter. As the men sprinted to their positions, the sound of the aircraft changed, and it lifted into the air, nosed over, and flew down the draw behind the house.
After the racket of the helicopter dissipated, Jared heard a man’s voice call out, “John Buckley, it’s Josh. You out there?”
Jared looked at John and realized he’d never asked the man his last name. Buckley did not seem to fit, in Jared’s opinion. Jared saw the man who was calling out to John, dressed in basically the same clothing John wore, although this newcomer’s uniform was far less dirty and didn’t hang off his frame like John’s seemed to do. John stood frozen for a moment after being called upon by name. He studied the approaching man and realized it was Josh, a guy from the unit who had been stationed with him at the Stockton airport. Josh handled a team of misfits much like John had, and was the only other member of their old unit in the state, as far as John knew.
John evaluated his situation and knew deep down these men were here to take him back. The team setting up a perimeter was standard operational procedure, and the bird taking a few laps while the men talked was also not uncommon, especially in light of their recent shortage in battlefield equipment. By every indication John could see, Josh expected him to come willingly, which was going to be a bit sticky.
John remembered his orders before he’d gone out to ask people to come and join the government effort to rebuild America. If they come, great; if they refuse, make them come had been the standing order from Carnegie. Barry was the only person who’d seemed hell-bent on staying as far away from the government as possible in all the missions John had participated in. John knew if he refused, things could get messy, and that was the last thing John wanted.
John turned his head almost imperceptibly toward Jared and whispered through the side of his mouth, “They’re going to take me. I don’t want to go, but if I refuse, there’ll be trouble. If I see it going that way, I’m getting on that helicopter and leaving you all.”
Jared started to open his mouth in protest, but John stopped him. “Don’t do it, not now. Just let me see what they want.”
Jared stood down, a look of concern on his face as John stepped away, walking out to meet the man coming toward the house. Jared turned and saw Carlos standing at the side of the house, staring wide eyed at the men out in the grass. Jared strolled as casually as he could over to Carlos. “Get inside and be ready for anything.”
Carlos turned and walked into the house, where the women and children were peeking through the windows, having torn the butcher paper back in order to see. Jared moved onto the porch, where he stood intently watching as John closed with the stranger from the helicopter.
Josh smiled when the men were within ten feet of each other. “Good to see you, John. Where the hell have you been?”
John opened his hands and swept them about the property. “Right here, brother. We had a bird strike, and down we went. Lost the whole crew,” he said, shaking his head somberly.
Josh pursed his lips, searching John’s face for any sign he was being anything but truthful. “And—you are the only survivor?”
“Pretty much,” John answered. The wreckage is over the—”
Josh interrupted him. “We know where the crash site is, man. What we don’t know is why you never came home.”
John shrugged and blew out through his mouth. “Walk? I had no food, limited water and no comm gear. What the hell was I supposed to do, die trying to get back to base?”
Josh didn’t answer.
“These people took me in, and we’ve just been trying to survive.”
“Were you one of the guys in the VW pulling the trailer a few days back?” Josh asked, gesturing in the direction of the car.
“I was. We got some power for lights at night going, got the refrigerator working with those panels,” John answered, offering more information than he would have liked. He hoped Josh would just leave or offer to help them, but knew he was a government boy through and through. The chances of Josh offering supplies needed in his mind to get the country’s government back on its feet were slim to none, and John knew it.
“Everyone armed here?” Josh pressed.
“Mostly,” John answered, beginning to feel like Josh wasn’t only there to take him home.
“How are you all on food?” Josh asked, his voice filled with concern John knew was fabricated.
“Not so good,” John lied. “We’ve been having a heck of a time finding game to shoot, and, well, the garden won’t be growing for quite a while. Winter is coming on, so we can only plant stuff that grows in the cold.”
“You got seeds?” Josh asked, the faux concern beginning to fade as he neared completion of what he felt was the intelligence-gathering portion of this mission.
“Just a few, none for winter. Mostly some corn and carrots, stuff like that,” John stated flatly, his mind racing, trying to gauge what it was Josh was after.
Josh ran his hand across his mouth and gestured at the ranch house. “They pointing guns at me right now?”
John snorted and shook his head. “No one is pointing guns at anyone,” John stated tiredly.
“The guy on the porch looks like he don’t want us here,” Josh said, staring past John straight at Jared, who never broke eye contact with the man.
“Jesus, Josh, do you have any idea what these people have been through? They don’t trust anyone, including you. Why should they? The government hasn’t done a Goddamn thing for anyone, except grab the smartest ones and whisk them away, so yeah, unless you’re bringing them food or medicine, they probably don’t have much use for you.”
“You always were soft, John. I bet the next thing you’re gonna tell me is you don’t want to come back with us,” Josh said, his voice completely void of any attempt to hide his contempt for what John was telling him.
“I live here now, Josh,” John implored.
Josh laughed out loud in John’s face, then pointed at him with a gloved finger. “You don’t have a say in the matter. Carnegie wants your ass back. You’re still in the Army, bro. That rifle is property of the US government—hell, everything you have on belongs to Uncle Sam.” Josh was incensed by even the notion John would consider staying with these people at this little pissant outpost of sorts.
John lowered his head. “Let me grab my things,” he said quietly.
“Don’t try any bullshit, partner. You going inside the house?”
“Yeah, grab my gear.”
Josh shook his head. “If you aren’t out in five minutes, we come in. I frag the shit out of the place first, and then we come in.” Josh leaned in, giving John a look that told him Josh meant every word.
As John was about to return to the ranch house, Josh held out a hand. “Your weapon, bro, and don’t come out of that house armed,” he warned.
John stood perfectly still for a moment, toying with the thought of just killing Josh right then and there, but figured the men on the hill would kill him. John also knew for a fact that if the men gunned him down, Jared would engage, and John couldn’t be the cause of that.
John unslung his rifle and handed it to Josh, who slung it over his own shoulder. Next John drew his pistol and handed it over. Josh stuffed the handgun in his waistband and waited as John pulled his knife out of the scabbard and handed it over handle first. After he was effectively neutered, John pivoted an
d walked slowly back to the porch, where Jared waited anxiously.
As John approached, he wagged his head a quarter inch from side to side twice, telling the younger man to wait until they were inside the house. Jared reached back, opening the door for John, who passed through and disappeared inside. Jared followed and closed the door. Outside, Josh made his way back to his team and waited.
Inside the house, everyone wanted to hear what John had to say, his face telling them whatever had happened was not good. John ran over scenario after scenario in his mind’s eye, trying to figure a way out of his current predicament, but always came back to the same conclusion. If he resisted, there would be a gunfight. In a gunfight with trained soldiers, people in his group were going to die.
“I have to go with them. If I don’t, they will force the issue, and if you guys try to interfere, there will be a fight,” John said matter-of-factly.
“What do you mean?” Jared blurted out. “They can’t just come in and take you.”
John stopped and turned on the group, his face creased in fear, which no one to date had observed before this instant. “Listen to me and listen good,” John hissed through clinched teeth, his pupils dilated from the adrenaline in his bloodstream. “I am going so none of you get killed today. These people are not to be messed with. They are not the government you’re used to dealing with in the past, they’re just a bunch of people like us trying to survive. Only difference is they have a lot more weapons of war than we have. They didn’t come today offering food and shelter—remember that,” John said tersely, pointing his finger to his head. “Remember they are not your friends. Another thing—if my gut isn’t lying, they are coming back. You all need to pack everything up and get out of this house, move to another place, lie low, stay out of sight for a while. Keep the panels hidden, but take them with you.” John’s mind was now in gear, making plans for survival instead of creating scenarios that all ended in disaster.
“What about you?” Stephani gulped, her face a mask of near panic.
John shook his head and bit his lower lip. “Leave me a note. Find a spot to hole up; then send Devon back with a note telling me where you are. Tack it to the underside of the kitchen sink and then don’t come back here, ever,” John urged.
Without another word, John turned and sprinted into the back of the house to gather his belongings, leaving the rest of their group sitting stunned by how quickly their day just devolved. John reemerged thirty seconds later with his pack.
“Jared, I left both sets of night-vision goggles—take them, take everything you guys can carry on that trailer. Don’t cut corners on security now, man,” John said, looking directly at Jared.
“Where are they taking you?” Jared finally was able to muster.
“The base is at the Stockton airport, but you all stay away from that place. I have no idea what they’re doing out there or how they treat walk-ups,” John warned. “Get out, find a place, and leave me a note in the event I can get back here.”
With that, John turned and walked out the front door. Jared followed, then stopped on the porch, his brain trying desperately to process what was happening as John moved away from the ranch house towards the men out in the grass. A few seconds later, the roar of the helicopter returned as the aircraft swung up and over a nearby hill before beginning its final approach. The grass lay flat in the rotor wash as the helicopter dropped to the ground. Once the helicopter’s wheels settled into the dry grass, John was ushered aboard. The rest of the security element leaped to their feet and one by one boarded the Black Hawk while the men already aboard the aircraft kept a watchful eye on Jared.
The last man on the ground was the man Jared had seen John talking to. Jared watched as the man looked back at Jared, smiled, and flipped him the bird. Jared’s temper flared, but he refrained from any retaliatory gestures, instead choosing to stare the man down as he climbed onto the aircraft through the open side door. The helicopter pilot drew the collective up, and the aircraft lifted away from the ground. The nose drifted down slightly, causing the helicopter to move forward toward Jared and the house as it gained airspeed.
Part of Jared wanted to step out into the yard and empty his rifle into the cockpit of the helicopter, but he stayed himself, knowing there were far more cons than pros to that course of action. First off, John was on board, and secondly, if he didn’t do any real damage, the men would undoubtedly land and kill every last person at the ranch house. Instead, Jared’s shoulders slouched as he watched his friend being forcibly removed from their tiny community.
Jared stepped off the porch and turned as the helicopter passed overhead. When it was gone, he looked back toward their OP and saw Calvin walking back to the house. The older man had been at the OP and was probably wondering what was going on.
“Did John go with those guys?” Calvin asked as he drew near.
Jared shook his head emphatically. “No, they took him,” he spat angrily.
Inside, the house was abuzz with excited chatter about John’s kidnapping. Everyone was talking at once as Jared sat on a kitchen chair, his mind numb with grief over the loss of John. Slowly the rest of the group began forming a plan to take down the solar panels along with their water system and get things moved to another place they could all call home. Jared had not contributed a single syllable to the conversation when Barry turned to him.
“Hey, Jared, you okay, man? We gotta get going, man. You heard what John said, they may come back, and we shouldn’t be here if they do,” Barry admonished.
Jared looked down at the worn pair of Salomon shoes on his feet and thought about all the places he’d walked in them over the past three plus months. He thought about the friendships he’d forged and friends he’d lost while wearing these shoes. His eyes began to well with tears as he shook his head, partly in defiance of crying in front of all these people and partly because he could not accept John’s being gone.
John had given up what he had there at the ranch house in order to avoid any harm befalling a member of their group. To simply move off and leave a note telling John where they went, on the off chance the man was able to escape whatever the so-called government decided to do with him, was, in Jared’s opinion, a nonstarter.
He breathed in through his nostrils, then wiped his eyes and scrunched his nose in an effort to control his tear ducts before looking up at the room full of people.
“I’ll help pack this place up. You all head out, send Devon back with the note, but I’m not coming with you guys.”
Everyone in the room stood silent in shocked astonishment at Jared’s proclamation. Jared did nothing to help with their surprise when he spoke again.
“I’m going to Stockton.”
THE END
Continue Jared’s journey with
Book Three
CHAINS OF TYRANNY
About the Author
Rick was raised in Napa Valley, California. In 1986 he joined the Marine Corps and served over four years with Third Battalion, 1st Marine Regiment as an anti-tank assault missleman and later as a scout with 3/1’s Surveillance Target Acquisition (STA) platoon.
After the Marines, Rick went into law enforcement, where he worked for 28 years in numerous positions such as Gangs, SWAT, Patrol and Homicide before retiring in 2018.
Writing has always been his passion, which he now pursues full time. He draws on his experiences from law enforcement and the Marines to flesh out reality based apocalyptic novels.
The Jared Chronicles | Book 2 | Tears of Chaos Page 34