by Art DeForest
Commander Walsh’s face became thoughtful. “From what I understand, historically speaking, our ancestors were able to accurately hit targets out to well over 2000 meters. We are as yet unable to achieve similar results with regards to accuracy.” he said, a grimace coming over his face as he thought of someone achieving such results when his proud military couldn’t even come close. “ As you know, reintroducing chemically powered weapons that can be used by our troops through and after a pulse is still an ongoing evolution.”
“You further make my point commander. Unless we capture this person, he will be able to pick us off one by one!” said Sampson. “I disagree Colonel.” said Walsh. “He may have some limited effect in that regard, we however, have air superiority on our side. It will be simple enough to track him down if we know he is in a given area.” Colonel Sampson looked at Walsh with a steely expression. He found the man’s arrogance faintly disgusting. “And how exactly would we determine what area he is in Commander?” asked Sampson. “Simple sir, We will know where he is when he attacks again.” Walsh sniffed. Colonel Sampson’s disgust deepened.
“So what you are telling me Commander is that we will inevitably lose more people to simply draw this assailant out?” asked the Colonel. Seeing the Colonels darkened visage, Walsh took a half step back mentally. “W--We can mitigate our risk by putting out quick reaction scout ships in support of our patrol units.” Walsh sputtered trying to regain his footing. Colonel Sampson leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. A thoughtful expression on his face as he considered his options.. “Hmmm, I think not commander. We are the Association. We are the society with the most advanced technology known to mankind. Even if we find ourselves forced to raid in order to acquire the resources we need to implement the Technology committee's vision.
Let’s put that technology to work for us. We have already brought in the local populace with the exception of this lone assailant. We shall bring in all the patrols with the exception of those watching for incursion from outside the pulse area and seed the area around the town and the mining operation with motion and audio sensors. The attacker will notify us himself when he gets close. Keep the air patrols going however and put quick reaction squads in them. We will pounce on this assailant with a thirst for vengeance as soon as he puts a foot in the wrong spot. We may even learn a thing or two when we have him in custody.”
“Very well sir.” said Walsh respectfully. “I’ll start pulling in our patrols and engineer a dispersal plan to cover the designated areas.” Standing up and straightening his shoulders he saluted smartly and turning on his heel, marched out of the Colonel’s office.
6
A kilometer or so up the canyon from home, Alex came across a grassy clearing and stopped. As small as his mother was, his arms and back still ached terribly by the time he was able to lay her gently in the grass underneath one of the nearpines. A creek ran along the edge of the clearing, babbling cheerfully. It was an idyllic spot.
He tried to dig a grave for her under the shade of the nearpine, but the ground was too rocky and hard. Two hours of sweaty, back breaking work and he’d only managed to hollow out a shallow depression. He threw his folding camp shovel down in frustration and settled himself on the ground not too far from his mother’s body. “I’m sorry mom.” he said sorrowfully. “ I’m going to have to figure something else out.” He settled for using smooth stones from the creek bed to build her a cairn. The work was backbreaking, but keeping busy seemed to help him keep it together. Still, the rocks of the cairn were well watered with tears. Finally, after the sun had dipped below the horizon he’d piled enough stones over his mother’s remains to feel relatively confident that no animals could get to her. Using his pack shovel he carefully dug up a plant he had found nearby. He didn’t know what it was called, but it had beautiful pale lavender flowers. They were light and delicate, but the plant itself was sturdy and had deep roots. He re planted it carefully at the head of her cairn. It seemed a fitting marker.
He made a cold camp back among the trees, not wanting to risk drawing unwanted attention with a fire. “What do I do now?” he thought. Disjointed and half formed plans ran through his mind as he considered. It came down to lack of information. He needed to find out what was going on and he needed to get help. The thought of living life without the ever present support and love of his mother was terrifying and it nearly broke him as he lay there under the trees.
His nearest neighbors, the Park family lived on their own homestead a couple kilometers in closer to town. He determined to try to get to their place in the morning. Hopefully they were okay. He hoped everyone would be okay. Worry and loneliness pervaded his being as he stared out at the night sky.
Exhaustion finally claimed him after a long period of tossing and turning on the hard ground. The events of the day playing themselves over and over in his traumatized mind.
In the grey light of predawn, Alex bowed his head and resting his hand on the cairn said “Good bye mom. I love you. His tears watered the beautiful little plant at it’s head. He didn’t know what was in store for his future but he knew that if he succeeded it would have much to do with her and how she raised him. The people of Plentiful were tough, but none were as tough and kind as his mom. As he stood mourning next to the cairn, a new determination seemed to infuse him. His mother’s strength and iron determination seemed to settle in his spine, straightening it and infusing him with purpose.
Turning his back on the cairn he resolutely departed the clearing. He climbed up and over a ridge that formed one side of the canyon, easing into the next canyon over. and down onto the valley floor. His plan was to make his way down first to the Parks homestead and then from homestead to homestead all the way to town if needed to find some answers. Surely he would find someone who knew what was going on.
As expected, he could see the distant outlines of ships similar to the ones in his yard at the start of the conflict. He kept his camo cover at hand in case any of them started to draw near. He had debated moving at night, but he figured that if they had thermo scanning as he suspected they did then darkness wouldn’t keep him hidden, but would just limit his vision instead.
He had to hide several times as he made his way down the canyon and across a small section of the valley in order to reach the Park’s home. The scout ship patrols seemed to be fairly regular, but he lost a lot of time hiding in terror and praying to stay unseen, with each pass of the craft overhead. What would have been a walk of an hour or so, turned into a half day trek that left him a nervous wreck by the time he arrived.
Mr Park was a wonderful man. He farmed the property, producing a variety of vegetables. He had also been farming his mother’s property since his father died. Alex thought of the man as almost a second father. Mr. Park and his mom had split the profits from her steadings crops and this allowed his mom to work part time in town in order to successfully make ends meet. “I just hope they’re okay.” Alex thought. Worry plain to see on his young face.
The sun was high in the sky as he approached the old farm house. He slid through the trees along the edge of the property until the worn white clapboard house came into view. Alex had approached from the back of the house, so after scanning the area as thoroughly as he could and detecting no signs of life from his current position, he started skirting around the edge of the property until the front of the home came in sight. The scene through his rifle scope was eerily familiar.
The front door was wide open. The screen door hanging off it’s hinges. Still, there was no evidence of people being around. No vehicles of any kind, scout ships or otherwise were in view. Alex eased through the fields, using what cover he could to keep a low profile. Finally he came to the edge of the field. Bare ground opened up for 20 meters in front of him before ending in a fenced front yard. Green grass and flowering plants made the scene almost inviting. The screen door hanging off it’s top hinge and the front door yawning wide open gave a sinister aspect to the whole thing however.
Steeling himself, Alex eased into the open, drawing the pistol at his side as he cautiously approached the front of the house. Up on the front porch he peered inside the home. All was dark inside. “Hello, is anybody home!” his voice quivered a little in fear as he shouted out. “It’s me, Alex!” No one answered. He tried the light switch by the front door. Nothing happened. It appeared that his place wasn’t the only one without power. Pistol in a two hand grip he entered the house looking for ...anything. It was empty. It was like they had just left their life. There were dirty dishes in the kitchen, something Mrs. Park would never have allowed if at all able to do anything about it. It was obvious they hadn’t left willingly. Giving up on getting any answers here, Alex refilled his canteen from the tap and proceeded back outside and onto the next homestead.
And the next, and the next. Hours of creeping from stead to stead. All the same. Empty. Some had signs of struggle. Doors broken down, windows broken. Alex even found a patch of blood in the living room of the Dandridge place, but not a lot. No one had died there. He did find ammo to fit his rifle there. Mr. Dandridge was an excellent shot. He was the head of the local militia and had taught Alex a lot over the years through the youth auxiliary and later as Alex reached manhood. His rifle was still in the gun cabinet however. Things happened fast apparently. The spare ammo was in the drawer at the base of the cabinet. He didn’t know how much he would need in the future so he took all he could find just in case. It was growing dark by the time Alex was done investigating the Dandridge place, so he decided to camp there overnight. It was nice to sleep in a bed, but he still threw his trusty camo cover over his head. Just in case.
The Wilson place was the next home stead down. By this time, Alex was getting more casual about approaching. A brief perusal of the area prior to leaving the tree line showed no obvious occupancy. On the front porch once again he shouted out his name. Once again there was no answer. There was no power as Alex expected and he didn’t bother to draw his pistol.
He was walking down the hall leading to the bedrooms when the attack came. He opened a door onto what looked to be a guest bedroom. Mr. and Mrs. Wilson didn’t have kids. He took a quick glance inside the dark room and was starting to move down the hall to the next door when he felt a jarring blow to the back of his head followed by the sound of breaking glass. He staggered forward under the blow as a wave of dizziness came over him. He avoided losing consciousness and raising his arm to ward off another blow to his head, he turned around to confront his assailant. The next blow however came to his solar plexus. The breath wooshed out of his lungs as the fist connected solidly with his midsection. He doubled over in pain, his vision constricting down like he was looking through a tunnel, but he managed to grab the arm connected to the assaulting fist. Holding on, he stumbled forward and managed to bring the attacker down and land on top of him. No wait, this was definitely not a him. A most female squeak was emitted as he came down on a soft but firm form.
“Let go! Get off me!” a high pitched voice shouted in fear and rage. Her free hand was raining blows down on his head. Alex desperately tried to grasp the other hand while trying to convince his diaphragm to draw air into his lungs. He finally got a grip on the flailing appendage and looked up to get his first look at his assailant. Startling translucent brown eyes locked with his in defiance as she continued to struggle. He could tell right away that this wasn’t one of the soldiers. She seemed to young and was wearing normal clothes. “Stop yelling and trying to hit me! I’m not going to hurt you!” Alex said “ Where are my aunt and uncle you creep!” she shouted as she continued to struggle. “How would I know?” he shouted back in desperation.
She seemed to actually see him for the first time at his response and abruptly stopped struggling. “Who are you? You’re not one of them.” she asked, a puzzled expression on her face. Alex took the chance to move off the girl. He sat with his back against the hallway wall and took a couple of trembling breaths. He saw the remains of the reading lamp from the spare bedroom strewn about the hallway. “No I’m not. I’m Alex, Alex Hunter. I lived on the homestead at the end of the road. I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on.” he said “W--Well, why are you here?” she asked with a trembling voice. Alex’s head sagged a bit. “I’ve checked out every homestead between my place and town.” he said with an exhausted sigh. Looking into those beautiful brown eyes, he said “They’re all gone. You’re the first person I’ve seen the entire trip.”
The girl looked at him pensively “I’m Keisha Wilson she said, looking around the home with a glassy expression. “I came out to visit my aunt and uncle. This is their place she said. “I keep hoping they’ll come home.” Her bottom lip quivered a bit. “How did you escape the soldiers?” asked Alex. “You saw them too?” she asked. “Yeah,” he replied. They came to our place too. They….they killed my mom.” He said in a rush as tears threatened to flow, but another deep breath got him under some semblance of control. Keisha gasped, raising her hand to her mouth in shock. I’m so sorry.” she said. Impulsively she reached out and put her hand on his arm. “Thanks” said Alex in a rough voice. Her touch on his arm almost seemed to burn.
“So, how did you get away from them?” He asked again. “I didn’t” she said. “I was out hiking in the hills all day. When I got to where I could see the house, I saw that there were strange people all over the place. I saw my aunt and uncle being dragged into some kind of small ship. I knew I couldn’t do anything with that many people around, S--So I hid back up in the hills until they left.” Her voice held a definite note of self recrimination.
“Smartest thing you could’ve done.” said Alex, trying to ease her feelings of guilt. “Those people had some serious weapons. There’s nothing you could have done.” Keisha shrugged her shoulders unconvincingly. “Yeah I suppose.” she said. “What about you? Why didn’t they get you?” she asked.
Alex’s head drooped slightly, “I was out hunting when they came. There was a ship and a bunch of soldiers in our yard when I topped the ridge” He paused to collect his thoughts. He was reluctant to go further. Taking that many lives was eating at him. He felt they deserved what they got for killing his mother, but there was a whisper inside him that said he could have just let them fly off. “Oh my” she said. “what did you do?” she asked.
Head still hung low, Alex attempted to stand up in the hallway. Pain and a slight wave of dizziness came over him. He reached up and felt the back of his head. Drawing it back, he was amazed that there was no blood. Just a large painful bump. “Why’d you attack me?” he asked. “I’d already looked in that room. You could’ve stayed hidden no problem.” She shrugged again as she got up also. “I was going to, but when I thought of strangers pawing through the house I kinda lost it. Sorry about your head.” she said with a sympathetic grimace. It was Alex’s turn to shrug. “No worries. I probably would have done the same in your shoes.”
“Can we go sit down someplace more comfortable than the floor please?” He asked with a sheepish grin. Keisha giggled a little. The adrenalin rush was making her a little giddy. “Sure” she said. “Let’s go into the kitchen and I’ll look at that bump.” Alex straightened his shoulders and stood tall as he considered her. She was wearing snug heavy duty khaki pants and a light blue pullover shirt of some soft looking material. “I’m fine” he said. “There’s no need.” she gave him a sardonic look. “Come on macho man. I’m studying pre-med in Harvest and I need the practice.” She turned to head down the hallway to the living room and on into the kitchen. He couldn’t help but noticing, even in his befuddled state, that the snug pants she was wearing did very interesting things to her posterior. He tried to suppress that thought. “Now is not the time to be ogling pretty girls.” he thought. His inner caveman seemed to disagree.
She led him into the kitchen and sat him at the table. He could feel her warmth as she moved in close to examine the wound. “It doesn’t look to bad.” She said after a brief, professional seeming evaluation.
“You could still have a concussion though” she said consideringly, coming around in front to look into his eyes. He was captivated once again by the deep caramel brown eyes that looked deeply into his own as she looked for warning signs. “We’ll need to keep an eye out for more symptoms.” she said.
He was just starting to consider the implications of “We’ll need to keep an eye out for more symptoms.” When she said, “You never told me what you did when you saw the soldiers.” Reality came crashing back down at that point. He hesitated for a moment, but he didn’t lie. Looking down at his hands resting on the table he let out a shuddering breath. Motioning to the rifle he had taken off his back and rested against the table when he sat down he said, “I killed them. I killed them all.” The cold voice of The Killer edged into his voice.
He looked up at her as all the color seemed to drain from her face. She clutched at one of the empty chairs at the table and pulling it out, sat heavily. “You what?” she said in a quavering voice?” He sighed, looking once more at his hands, “I killed them.” he reiterated. He went on to tell the story of what happened. Pausing after the knife fight to show her the cut on his arm. This seemed to bring her back to herself somewhat and she insisted on examining and re bandaging the wound.
