Deadfall

by L. Douglas Hogan

  “Bury her,” Darrick said, willing to give in to Andy’s will as a peace offering of sorts. He’d heard what Andy said. He knew he was right. Andy’s grandfather had died by Darrick’s hands; his mother had died at Darrick’s side. Andy’s uncle Jimmie had died by Darrick’s bad choices. It was only natural that he should hate his own father. Darrick didn’t want to fight against Andy’s resolve. Bury her, it was.

  Darrick, Marcus, and Andy made their way back to where Carissa had been left behind. Knowing they couldn’t be caught, they wanted to hide themselves, but as they approached the clearing, they saw that the bald looked completely barren of people. Even the tree guards seemed to be absent from their posts. There was one thing that stood out in the middle of the clearing. A tall wooden stake with what looked like a grain bag draped over the top of it. The object beckoned them to move in closer, if for no other reason than to inspect the object.

  “Is it me, or does this feel like a trap?” Marcus asked.

  “Always assume everything’s a trap,” Darrick answered.

  “There’s the Mitchell I remember!” Marcus bantered. He looked at Darrick as he joked, but he wasn’t smiling. Maybe trying to lighten the mood isn’t the best course of action.

  “Andy, listen to me,” Darrick said, turning toward his son. “This is most certainly a trap. I want you and Marcus to go hide. I’m going to spring this thing and make a scene,” he said, grabbing the rifle from Marcus’s grip. “Once I do, I want you and Marcus to go find Uncle Tommie and Carissa then beat it down the side of this mountain to your freedom.”

  The words he gave Andy were clear and concise. They had purpose. This was Darrick’s time to be a good dad and win his son’s heart over. Giving authority and responsibility for a dangerous task was what Andy needed to hear. Little did Andy know, his father was manipulating him. Darrick knew Andy wouldn’t be able to pull off such a task without Marcus’s training and experience. Marcus knew exactly what Darrick was doing. He didn’t even have to make eye contact with him to communicate the message.

  Andy just nodded. Marcus and Andy backed out of the area. Darrick waited for a while just to make sure neither of them were even close to the clearing. Then he stood tall. Checking the chamber of the rifle, he made sure a round was in place. He stepped out into the clearing, hoping to spring some kind of trap.

  Nothing.

  He moved closer to the strange centerpiece.

  Still nothing.

  Now that he was close enough to reach out and touch the object, he could see clearly what it was.

  His heart began racing. It was a head.

  A human head!

  Darrick could see what looked like a woman’s hair protruding from the opening in the bag. Blood had at one point ran down the stick. A puddle coagulated at its base.

  That hair! he thought with great apprehension. That hair looks like Carissa’s hair.

  Darrick was terrified. Terrified that the head of his friend had been put on display in the camp.

  He closed his eyes as he reached toward it. He felt the grain bag in the palm of his free hand. He gripped the bag and slowly lifted it off the head. He opened his eyes.

  “JoAnn!”

  JoAnn’s head was balanced on the stake by running the upper end of the stick through her esophagus and into her nasal cavity. A stream of semi-dried blood that started from her nose ended at her chin, where it dribbled down into a puddle beneath it.

  None of what he was seeing made sense. Who did this? He had no idea. At the front of his mind was his concern for locating Carissa and Tommie. “Where are they? Where is everybody?”

  “Fear,” a muffled voice said from behind him.

  Darrick turned around. A large man wearing a gas mask stood at the entrance of the bald.

  “It’s an important lesson you’ve taught me,” the large man said through the raspy-sounding breathing apparatus. “Fear never really leaves a man. It’s put there by terrors larger than you. But what makes us strong is our ability to overcome them. To endure them. To gather strength from the very things that once held us captive. Through overcoming them, we free our minds and bring other things into captivity. Things like strength. Leadership.”

  Darrick listened as the big man made his speech. Undeterred, he held his rifle up and had it squarely pointed at the man’s chest. “Do I know you?”

  The man acknowledged somebody in the woods, concealed from Darrick to his right, by asking, “This is Mitchell, is it not?”

  Two men stepped out of the bushes. One had Carissa and the other had Tommie. Each of them had a handgun pointed at their prisoner. Darrick didn’t know either one of them.

  “That’s him,” a third man said, stepping out from a concealed position to Darrick’s right side. It was Curtis.

  “Curtis, what’s going on?” Darrick asked.

  The man in the gas mask answered on behalf of Curtis. “I spared his life under one condition – that he’d help me identify the man who will help me usher in the new world.”

  Darrick looked at Curtis. “You betrayed us?”

  “Darrick, I had no ch–”

  The man shot Curtis in the face before he finished his sentence. Darrick flinched as the explosion caught him by surprise. Curtis dropped dead to the ground.

  The shot was heard far and wide.

  “Strike one, he rolled on an ally. Strike two, he felt a need to explain himself. There’s no strikeout in the new world, Mitchell. He wasn’t fit to lead. Now he’s dead.”

  Still confused from the man’s sudden appearance, Darrick sought some answers. “Who are you, and what do you want?”

  “My name is Rueben Reisner. I’ve been chasing you for some time now. It seems that, in my pursuit, you’ve managed to somehow evade overwhelming forces – reducing mine to almost nothing. But as you can see, I’m not easily defeated either.”

  Rueben’s arms were outstretched, drawing special attention to his remaining Enclave members.

  Darrick realized his pursuer had finally caught him. “Well, don’t expect a red-carpet introduction.”

  “I’m not interested in special treatment, Mitchell. I’m interested in something much more valuable than that. Even more valuable than possessions.”

  “I guess I’m supposed to ask you to please share?”

  “People, Mitchell. Not just ordinary people, either. But people with extraordinary capabilities. People with resolve, with strength. People who can lead in the face of fear and adversity. People just like you, Mitchell.”

  “I’ve got nothing to offer you, mister.”

  “Perhaps you’ll reconsider.” Rueben motioned to the two men who had Carissa and Tommie hostage.

  They dropped their prisoners to their knees. By this time, others had come out of the bushes and had taken up arms against Darrick. He was completely outgunned and accepted the fact that he wasn’t going to survive the day.

  Darrick’s mind was still on Tonya. He missed her so badly. He hadn’t quite come to accept the fact that she was gone and that this night would be the first night he would have to sleep without her. He didn’t want that. He was ready to die. Right there in the center of the clearing on the mountain. But then his mind went to his son. He considered what Tonya would want him to do. She’d want him to be strong. To raise Andy into a strong man. To see it through and to be a good father to him.

  “I join you, you let them go. That’s the deal,” Darrick said. He was willing to sell anything Rueben wanted to hear. Doing so meant he could live to fight another day. He could figure the rest out after that.

  “It’s not that easy,” Rueben replied. “I’m going to need something more than your service.”

  “More than my service? Like what?”

  “Like your son, Andy. Where is he?”

  Darrick heard a commotion behind him. He turned around.

  “You thought you had the upper hand,” Darrick said to Rueben when he turned back around, “but you were clearly wrong.”

  Marc
us and Andy came running up and over the hill that made up the horizon, not a few yards from Rueben’s line of sight. They weren’t alone, and Darrick knew it.

  Rueben was surprised to see a small army of men and women with weapons. It was the Elders Seven and the rest of the Community’s denizens, but he had no idea who they were. Now Rueben was outgunned.

  The Community surrounded the entire bald and moved in to subdue Rueben, his men, and Darrick. They took possession of their weapons and left them standing there, unarmed and at the Community’s mercy. After a moment of awkward silence, Darrick, Carissa, and Tommie were allowed to rejoin Marcus and Andy.

  Eighteen

  BE SEEIN’ YA

  “Elder Brooklyn, our agreement?” Marcus questioned. “Is it good?”

  “When you first came to us, we were doubtful of your story. Then the boy showed us the dead meat handler at the boneyard. And now, we see the killer stands before us.”

  Marcus had fooled the elder into believing that he was murdered by someone other than him, Darrick, and Andy. What nobody knew was that when Rueben shot Curtis, Marcus heard it and recognized the distinctive sound. It was Rueben’s pistol. Marcus knew that sound all too well. He had caught up to them, so Marcus’s plan to falsely accuse Rueben was set in motion.

  “So we’re good, then?” Marcus asked Brooklyn.

  “I’m afraid the agreement isn’t as simple as we originally agreed.”

  The five remaining elders stepped forward. One of them was covered in mud and almost completely nude. “Our laws demand that nobody leaves the Community.”

  Another elder shouted, “We cannot risk discovery.”

  “We won’t tell anyone about this place. We have no interest in sharing the location of this place with the outside world,” Marcus said back to them. “There’s nothing for us to gain. We made a deal!”

  One of the elders walked over to JoAnn’s head and visibly cringed at it. Looking up at Rueben, the man that was holding his peace and taking the blame by default, the elder said, “Perhaps we can come to an agreement.”

  All the elders gathered around JoAnn’s head and began whispering among themselves.

  The rest of the armed Community kept their weapons trained on Rueben and his men. When they concluded their conference, they turned to face Marcus and the others.

  “The Elders Six have agreed to let you leave the mountain under one condition. One of you must stay behind as collateral.”

  “That wasn’t the arrangement!” Marcus yelled, stepping forward, furious at the council’s decision.

  “Nevertheless, it is the decision of the elders,” one of the six answered.

  Marcus turned around and looked at Darrick, Andy, Carissa, and Tommie. His heart sank. “Guys, I’m the outsider here. It’s gotta be me.”

  “Guy, I don’t like this. There’s gotta be another way.”

  “They’ve made their decision, buddy. I don’t see how we’re gonna get out of this alive. We all stay and probably get picked off one by one like we were, or one stays behind and the rest of us survive.”

  Darrick moved in fast for a friendly embrace. “We’ll come back for you, brother,” Darrick whispered in his ear.

  “I’ll keep a fire burning for ya.”

  Darrick let him go and gave him a nod.

  Carissa took her turn at hugging Marcus. “I’m going to miss you!”

  “Take care of Darrick. He needs a woman in his life.”

  “I will.”

  Tommie moved forward and shook Marcus’s hand. “I’m sorry that I didn’t get to spend more time with you. You seem like a pretty cool dude.”

  Tommie finished his goodbye and Marcus walked over to Andy. “I’m gonna stay behind, buddy. It’s the only way they’re gonna let you guys leave.”

  “There’s another way,” Andy said.

  Curious to hear what Andy was going to say, he leaned in. “What’s that, buddy?”

  “Dad’s good at making tough choices. I think he should stay instead of you.”

  “Don’t talk like that. Your dad loves you, Andy. Everything he’s done, whether for bad or for good, was for you and your mom. The whole grandpa thing was to save you, pal. He loved you more.”

  “We’ll see,” Andy said, leaving Marcus to stand alone. He led Darrick, Carissa, and Tommie toward the trail’s exit.

  Rueben was being escorted north when he passed by the group as they were exiting. Not wanting to let Darrick have the last word, he shouted, “Mitchell!”

  Darrick stopped to turn and look.

  “I’ll be seeing you around, Mitchell.”

  “Keep moving,” Rueben’s escort said, shoving him forward with the rifle in hand.

  “Go on, Mitchell,” Marcus said. “I got this.”

  Darrick smiled back at his friend. Marcus stood there, alone.

  “I know you’ll take care of that boy, Mitchell.”

  Darrick knew there was a strong chance that Marcus was Andy’s father, but that didn’t change anything between him and Marcus, neither did it affect Darrick’s love for Andy. Darrick never blamed Marcus for what he had done with Tonya all those years ago. They thought he’d died in Iraq, after all.

  Darrick didn’t have anything left to say. He simply grinned at Marcus and disappeared down the trail.

  Marcus was all but alone as he stood there looking at an empty trailhead. For a second, he zoned out, but was distracted by a guttural sound coming from Curtis’s position. At first, he thought it was the guards who were left standing there with their rifles in hand, but they heard it, too. Seconds later, two guards and Marcus ran over to where Curtis was on the ground, to find a glare of sunlight reflecting back from a stream of blood as it bounced off Curtis’s pulsing artery.

  “He’s alive,” Marcus shouted.

  Six years later

  Recently promoted Senior Sergeant Tolstobrov Pavlovich returned to his base of operations to find he had been attacked again. No matter how much punishment – how much devastation he brought to the Americans, they seemed to find a way to get the upper hand. He’d lost a lot of supplies, a lot of Russian treasure, and he was out of Russian champagne. In fact, he hadn’t had any champagne for five years, and the Russian supplies had stopped some time ago.

  His unit’s portable communications devices, weapons, and vehicle repairs were no longer being managed by the Russian motherland, despite Pavlovich’s incessant requests for resupply shipments. He felt somewhat orphaned by his country, but his conceit could not be outdone. He simply needed another strategy. One not relying so much on his country’s leadership. Pavlovich loved Russia; he hated the Americans. He refused three consecutive rotations that would have deployed him back to his country, out of sheer patriotism. Each time he volunteered himself to stay, he grew more resolved in his ambitions to destroy the American resistors.

  As Pavlovich stood and took mental inventory of his losses, a private came running to Pavlovich from the comm center.

  “Senior Sergeant, the entire Russian Spetsnaz has been recalled. We are ordered to return to exfil immediately.”

  Sergeant Todorov stood by Pavlovich’s side. Seeing his leader’s discouragement, he had a word for Pavlovich. “Sergeant, if I may,” he said in their native tongue.

  The private stood there and waited for his senior sergeant’s command.

  Pavlovich lit a stale American cigar and looked at Todorov. “What?” he asked, frowning at the taste of the fusty tobacco.

  “I believe the Americans have an old saying: ‘If you can’t beat them, join them.’”

  “What are you trying to say, Sergeant?”

  “In the American Revolution, the colonists dressed as farmers and businessmen. Perhaps we’re looking at this in the wrong light. Perhaps we need to adapt to their lifestyle. Ariel Durant, a Russian-born American, once said, ‘A great civilization is not conquered from without until it has destroyed itself from within.’”

  “Are you saying we should abandon our mission, Sergeant?�
��

  “Not the mission, Senior Sergeant, only the means by which we get there.”

  Feeling an impending defeat by American resolve, Pavlovich took a deep breath and looked out across the landscape. “This is a beautiful place, Todorov, but it’s no Russia.” He turned to face him. “I think this thing you have said is true. The American military was once fractured, but it seems to have been rebuilt. As long as we’re here, their forces will grow as ours shrinks. If we are to survive and win the day, we’ll need to adapt. Tomorrow, we will be as the Americans. Tomorrow, we will break the chains that have bound us. We will do this for Russia,” Pavlovich said, tearing the ranks from his shoulders and collar.

  “Who else has heard this message, Private?”

  “No one, Senior Sergeant. I reported immediately to you.”

  “I am giving you a direct order to never make mention of it again. If I hear that you have disobeyed me and have repeated what you heard, I will be forced to exact military justice upon you. Do you understand, private?”

  “Yes, Senior Sergeant!”

  “Go and unplug any and all microphone systems. From now on, and until further notice, we will only use the comm center for monitoring.”

  “Yes, Senior Sergeant,” the private said, turning to leave.

  “Sergeant Todorov?”

  “Yes?”

  “Go see to it.”

  “It shall be done.”

  Marine Corps Air Base

  Cherry Point, NC

  Initial reports, given to surviving military personnel on the East Coast, were that the EMP attacks on the US had disabled the Air Force entirely. As Russian forces were slowly beat back from the shores of the eastern United States by air reinforcements and support from the west, it became clear that rumors of their destruction were incorrect. As the Air Force gurus explained it, the same technology that went into protecting flight craft from being destroyed by lightning strikes also protected aircraft from electromagnetic pulses.