Youngblood

by H. Peter Alesso

  “I suppose.”

  “And if he is willing to negotiate, he must be in serious danger.”

  “Well . . .”

  “It doesn’t matter whether he’s in danger or bargaining for advantage. For now, we hold all the cards and must play them to bring him to surrender terms even if we must make some small concessions.”

  Kira said, “You must decide in the best interests of all the people. I don’t want him to escape the justice he deserves, but how many more must die to achieve that?”

  “Well, what do think we can offer him that will get him to lay down his arms and stop the fighting.”

  Pyro said, “He’s not likely to accept our arresting him for trial for his many crimes.”

  “No. He’s not. Nor should we let him off scot-free.”

  “It’s better that we continue the battle and defeat him completely. Unconditional surrender,” said Pyro.

  An hour later Youngblood returned to the center of the tunnel under a flag of truce and met with Jarod once more.

  Jarod said, “I have a proposal for you. I want free passage for me and my men including those you have as prisoners to the southern region of the valley where we will establish a home of our own where we can live in peace without disturbing others. In exchange, we’ll turn over everything in this complex to you without further struggle. We’ll leave without destroying the terminals, supplies, equipment, and tunnels currently in our possession.”

  “But . . .”

  “Otherwise we will fight to the last. My men appreciate what is at stake for them if we are driven out without a place. Treat us fairly, or we will destroy as much property and lives as we can. And let me reassure you that will be considerable,” said Jarod defiantly.

  It was an appalling option.

  “I understand,” said Youngblood.

  “I’ve lived my whole life here. I’m giving up a great deal so don’t underestimate my will to fight for it if I must. That’s my proposal. It’s an honorable deal.”

  Youngblood returned to the command post and met with his captains and staff and reported Jarod’s offer.

  “What do you think?” asked Lew.

  “He had some powerful arguments.”

  “He did.”

  “Is there some way we could increase the pressure on him. Is there something we could do, without starting shooting again, that might convince him to give up?” asked Pyro.

  “What?”

  “I don’t see . . .”

  Youngblood said, “There may be something. I can use the security control center to isolate his sector. Turn off their air conditioning and electrical power and lock certain doors. He will see that as limiting his escape options.”

  “Great idea. Can you do it quickly?”

  “Let’s see.”

  Youngblood used the security control console to deprive Jarod of power. But after hours with no agreement, Youngblood prepared an assault on Jarod’s last position.

  Kira said, “Jarod’s men have been surrendering in ones and twos for the last few minutes. I doubt he has more than a dozen men left with him. We can take him in one final push.”

  He called out, “Jarod, surrender and face justice. This is your last chance.”

  Youngblood, Pyro, and Kira gathered men for a final assault against Jarod’s defenses at the edge of the tunnel tram switchyards.

  They launched a coordinated attack with guns blazing.

  Jarod’s final defensive position broke within minutes, his remaining men scattering or raising their hands in surrender.

  Kira ran forward into the thick of the chaos.

  In the confusion, Jarod managed to surprise her and knock her out. He took her as a hostage, and with Murdock and Kilgore and a few men, they fled into the tunnel system.

  “Look, Kira’s bow and arrows,” yelled Pyro, picking them up.

  William shouted, “They’re taking her on a tram!”

  “After them,” yelled Youngblood.

  Youngblood chased Jarod and was greeted by gunfire. He ducked down and saw Jarod and his men driving down the railway tunnel at increasing speed.

  Youngblood, Pyro, and William got on a tram and started down the track in pursuit of Jarod toward the spaceport bunker.

  The rest of the militia remained to deal with the broken enemy forces.

  Chapter 30

  To the Death

  When they found Jarod’s tram at the spaceport bunker, Youngblood sprang out of the tram and ran full-out down the tunnel. Seeing Jarod drag Kira through a doorway caused a momentary flash of concern to well up in his breast. He leaped after him without waiting for Pyro or William.

  When he reached the doorway, he anticipated that he would be in immediate danger and threw himself through, hitting the ground and rolled twice before springing back to his feet. He took a deep breath and waited for a bullet to strike his heart.

  Shots ricocheted off the nearby walls as Jarod got off several rounds while he struggled to control Kira. He held her in front of him, thwarting Youngblood’s aim.

  Youngblood was conscious of his thumping heart and he wanted to rush forward and confront the danger as his instinct demanded, but his desire not to endanger Kira restrained him. He forced himself to slow his actions and he intended to proceed with caution.

  Jarod held his gun to Kira’s head while holding her in a headlock with his other arm.

  “Don’t! Don’t move or she’s dead,” yelled Jarod. He leaned forward one hand curled around his gun.

  A whisper formed in Youngblood’s mind . . .

  There’s little time.

  He froze. The room was bright with lights that gleamed off shiny equipment and objects throughout the huge spaceport hanger.

  Pyro and William entered the room behind Youngblood and moved to either side of him, their guns drawn, pointed at Jarod.

  Youngblood was twenty feet from Jarod and could see the sweat pouring off his face, the tight lines around his mouth, the near panic in his eyes. He was trapped.

  “Let her go. We’ll back out. You can leave unharmed. I give you my word.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I’m not you. I’ll keep my word.”

  They stood there for a long moment, teetering on the edge of life and death.

  Then as if on cue, Murdock and two men emerged from a doorway thirty feet to Jarod’s right, their weapons raised and pointing at Youngblood and his friends. Bulldog was a dangerous man, tall and terrible looming in the shadows, dark and forbidding.

  Jarod yelled to Murdock, “Wait. Hold your fire.”

  Then he yelled to Youngblood, “Things have changed. Throw up your hands, I want your guns!”

  No one moved. They waited as a minute passed in frozen silence.

  Then, Kilgore and two more men emerged from a door to Jarod’s left. They were out of breath and surprised at the gathering before them.

  Everyone in the room was surprised and didn’t recognize the newcomers at first.

  Each person felt as if they were being put in a crossfire at close range and forced to fight individual firefights. The shock caused everyone to swing their guns back and forth uncertain where to aim and who to fire at.

  Youngblood couldn’t tell who fired first, but nearly simultaneously ten semiautomatic handguns were set ablaze.

  Over a hundred bullets flew around the room within ten seconds.

  In the confusion, ricochets bounced off the walls and the bullet-proof vests.

  Murdock had the reputation of being a good shot and a dangerous man, so Youngblood aimed at him first.

  Murdock was hit in the lower stomach and fell to the ground groaning.

  A strange lull descended over the next minute as men fell to the ground screaming and holding blood sprouting holes.

  It was another minute, as the survivors began ejecting the empty magazines from their weapons and their hands smacked over their bodies in search of another clip. As clips were rammed home the remaining men began lo
oking around at who was still alive to threaten them.

  Youngblood was kneeling on one knee. His left arm was grazed.

  William was on the ground, a dozen bullet holes leaking his life’s fluid into a gigantic pool of red ooze.

  Pyro collapsed to the ground, a wound in his gut. He lay groaning, many wounds visible. Kira’s bow and quiver still slung over his shoulder.

  To one side Murdock was sitting up, loading his gun with his left hand, his right arm shattered by a bullet. The two men with him were lying dead beside him.

  Kilgore was still standing reloading his weapon. The two men with him were moaning on the ground.

  Jarod was standing still holding Kira in a headlock waving his gun about.

  Jarod was the first to fire and set-off the second round of bullets. Once more the semiautomatic handguns released a hail of destruction. This time the accuracy was even worse than before. The painful wounds and blurry eyes made aiming impossible. Though wounded, Jarod and Murdock kept shooting.

  A bullet hit Youngblood and he felt as if he had been kicked in the chest. His breath seemed to ooze away as the bullet struck hard against his bullet-proof vest. Everything was spinning and there was a roar in his ears. He dropped to the ground listening to the thumping of his heart. He lurched and groaned.

  Jarod’s next shot missed wildly.

  Dizzy and hurting, Youngblood wondered, did I hit him?

  Jarod fired again.

  Murdock fired twice more before Youngblood shot him in the head.

  Murdock tried to speak, but he died where he lay.

  Jarod fired again erratically.

  Another lull followed.

  Murdock was dead.

  Kilgore dropped dead as well.

  Youngblood discovered a bullet in his thigh.

  Jarod’s gun sounded out a series of clicks. It was empty.

  Youngblood’s gun was also empty, and he had no more magazine clips. He threw the gun to the ground and looked for a weapon.

  Jarod tried to reload his gun while choking Kira in a headlock. He managed to eject the empty clip and pulled a fresh clip from his jacket.

  Youngblood picked up Pyro’s gun.

  Click!

  It was locked to Pyro’s identity and won’t fire.

  Youngblood took Kira’s bow from Pyro and as he loaded the weapon, Kira scratched Jarod’s face and broke free.

  Jarod punched her and sent her sprawling to the ground. He jammed home the magazine clip into his gun and pointed the gun at her.

  Seeing Youngblood stand, Jarod shifted his aim to him.

  Youngblood let the arrow fly.

  THANG.

  The arrowhead pierced Jarod’s throat—his gurgling curses lasted a full minute.

  Chapter 31

  Take off

  It was a cold winter’s day in Jamestown as a cruel driving wind blew with surprising ferocity penetrating Youngblood’s rawhide jacket and running a chill down his spine despite his turned-up fur collar. He crammed his hands deeper into his fur-lined gloves and leaned forward into the wind, his eyes watered, and his uncompromising stiff muscles ached. Only now did he feel strong enough to venture out of his ramshackle room to seek the company of others after the relapse of his symptoms had left him spasming from muscle weakness and nausea for nearly a week.

  As he entered the Branch Water Saloon, and noticed the black frost covering the windows even as a fire roared in the fireplace. He would not allow himself to disturb the festivities of the farmers and ranchers in the center of the large room as they celebrated the return of long-lost family members. They were entitled to relish the joyful moment they had found. They were the lucky ones who had been freed from Yosemite and he was glad for them.

  He thought of seeking the companionship of his friends, but many were dead, and he hadn’t seen Kira or Pyro for weeks.

  The door opened, and the full force of the storm blustered into the room causing him to shiver, but a smile flittered to his lips.

  “Pyro! Pyro!” he called. Pyro limped toward the dark back corner of the room with an irritated expression which vanished instantly when he recognized his friend.

  “It’s good to see you,” he said, rushing over to give him a hug.

  Youngblood’s face was unnaturally white and thin, and his sunken cheeks made his eyes bulge.

  “Are you feeling ill?” asked Pyro, voicing his concern. “It’s a bad day to be out.”

  “Never better,” said Youngblood, furrowing his brow to emphasize that there was nothing more to be said on the subject.

  He asked, “How’s your repair business?”

  Pyro said, “Not so good. You know how it is. Ever since people got access to the technology and the know-how from the Yosemite bunker they’ve been learning and developing their own businesses. It’s a booming economy for some.”

  “But one that’s passed you by?”

  “And you, now that we’ve elected a government and established a police force.”

  “A change for the better.”

  “At least the gangs are gone, and people can try to live normal lives and advance their standard of living.”

  A plump well-dressed man with long black hair tied back in a ponytail came over to them and looked over the pair with piercing eyes.

  “Good day, Mayor,” said Youngblood.

  “A biting wind,” he said.

  Pyro said, “It’s the worst storm of the season.”

  “No travelers, or shipments, will hazard out in this weather.”

  “You can be sure of that,” said the Mayor, running appraising eyes over the shabby attire of the young men.

  He asked, “I hope you have been fortunate with your business, Pyro.”

  “My fortunes have taken a downturn.”

  “Rough competition these days, hey. Still, peace has come to our valley and the towns are flourishing; the ranchers are fattening their herds and the farmers are preparing for spring planting. I can’t remember when people have had more hope and promise for their future.”

  “Very true,” said Youngblood.

  “I trust you will come to me with any of your needs. I’m glad you’ve recovered from your wounds. You men are heroes! We wouldn’t forget you,” said the Mayor, the words flowing from his mouth as quick as he could articulate them and just as quick he was moving away. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to greet some new arrivals.”

  He joined a jovial group of men and women in the center of the room, leaving Youngblood and Pyro looking at each other.

  “How did he get elected?”

  He said, “There are lots of new faces running things now. There’s no need for ‘heroes’ anymore.”

  Youngblood pictured Pyro’s bleeding body during the shootout with Jarod.

  “Guess not,” said Pyro. “What’re you doing now?”

  “I’ve been working with Loci on the AI computer system. Occasionally someone will ask me to consult on a technology problem. So, I’m able to make ends meet.”

  Pyro frowned.

  “I’ve made some progress figuring out some of the more sophisticated AI systems for the spaceport.”

  “I see,” said Pyro.

  The door swung open and a group of people came in.

  “Customers,” said Youngblood. He asked them to join him at his table.

  They got down to business and opened a diagram of a new power generating station they were building.

  “Will you examine these blueprints and circuits. We value your opinion.”

  Pyro looked over his shoulder as Youngblood made several notations on the diagrams and offered some suggestions. After an hour, the men were satisfied. They gathered their papers to leave and gave Youngblood a modest stipend for his efforts.

  “Can we see you next week when we’ve made our revisions?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Next week, then.”

  The group left arguing over the cost of the revisions.

  Pyro shook his head. “Yo
u found several significant flaws in their plans that would have cost them a fortune to fix at a later date, yet you charged them a pittance.”

  “Needs must. I’ve lived through much of the winter. Only another month or two until better weather improves both our fortunes.”

  “It’s a hellish outrage!”

  Youngblood smiled; a nearly natural smile. He said, “Have you read the newspaper? There’s an account that would interest you.”

  The clipping highlighted Pyro’s heroics during the battle against Jarod where he had defended the saloon and been wounded.

  “You saved this?”

  Youngblood smiled, “Of course. It’s about a friend.”

  Pyro asked, “Have you heard from Kira?”

  Youngblood frowned. “She’s been slow to recover from her injuries.”

  ◆◆◆

  The weather had transformed over the next weeks; the black cold frost had given way to a hint of fresh clear spring. Likewise, Youngblood was transformed as he bounded down Main Street with long powerful strides, fully recovered from his bout of illness. He marveled at the burgeoning growth of the town. Businesses were teeming with customers from the other towns, as well as the valley, and what’s more, people from outside the valley were being welcomed. They had little trouble finding work or homes.

  Lucky devils.

  He nodded to acknowledge a wave from one of the townsfolk. People seemed happy as he entered the Branch Water Saloon.

  At the bar were two policemen.

  “Mark my words,” said one, “we’ve not seen the last of Blackheart.”

  The other murmured his agreement.

  “Wherever his spaceship takes him, he’ll recruit more like-minded thugs to come back here and to take back what he once had.”

  “There’ll be no long-lasting security until he’s dealt with and dealt with harshly.”

  “Here, here,” was echoed around the bar.

  The door to the saloon swung open and Kira and Pyro joined Youngblood.

  “This will be a most enjoyable evening,” said Pyro.

  “Yes. Very,” said Youngblood smiling at his friends.

  Pyro said, “It was a shame that after everything you did to defeat Jarod, you weren’t given a substantial reward.”