Obstacles

by David Wilson

  Ben replied with more than a little shock in his voice, “Do you really think everyone has sunk that low already. I mean it’s only been, what four or five days, surely the moral fabric of our country has not deteriorated to the point of complete collapse.”

  Talon came back with, “Think again, my young Padawan, the evil that men can do is unlimited, whether it is torture or just plain old being mean. Man has always been looking for the perfect excuse to cause harm to one group of people or another for some perceived harm that has befallen them. And when given a chance, with no law enforcement or penalty hanging over their heads, men will do heinous things to one another. A lot of them out there don’t even need an excuse, they will just view this as a green light to do whatever they want to whomever they want, and it will continue to get worse and worse until someone puts them down like the rabid dog that they are. That’s why I always say that I will never surrender my weapons. I would rather go down fighting than under some sicko’s idea of torture. Rudyard Kipling wrote a poem that has always stuck with me, it goes something like this, ‘When you’re wounded and left on Afghanistan’s plains, and the women come out to cut up what remains, just roll to your rifle and blow out your brains and go to your god like a soldier.’ Anyway, like I said, I’ve seen what evil men or women can do to each other. I refuse to play that game.”

  Ben was quiet for a long time as they walked their horses under the trees. Talon wanted to get a little distance from that intersection before they came back out on the road, and the trees were just too thick for them to try and ride through at night. If they tried, they would constantly be slapped in the face by tree limbs. After covering at least a mile, Talon began angling toward the blacktop of the road. Ben cleared his throat, and Talon stopped and gave him a querying look.

  “I don’t want to ever be in that position either, but I’d like to think that you would end it for me if there were no way out for me, that is if I couldn’t do it myself. You know if there was no way you could rescue…”

  Talon had held up his hand to stop Ben from continuing, “Yes, I know what you are saying, and yes, I would, but only if there was no other way. But listen to me, I’m not asking, I’m telling you that if I ever tell you to run, you are to get on that horse and run to our next rally point. If I don’t show up within 24 hours, go on without me. Do NOT come back looking for me. We should have already had this conversation before we left. But I want your word, right here, right now. Do you understand me?”

  Ben hesitated, then nodded his head in agreement.

  “Not good enough, I want to hear you say it,” Talon said harshly.

  “Sir, yes, I understand, and if you order me to leave you,” said Ben seriously.

  “I guess that is the best I’m going to get, but really, if it ever comes down to it, you light out if I tell you too,” Talon stated with a little softer tone, “Now let’s get back on these guys and make them earn their feed tonight.”

  As they came out of the woods, Talon elected to stay off of the high ground right next to the highway surface. They rode at a walk until they came to a bridge crossing a small stream. “This is where we need to turn back to the east again,” stated Talon, “If we follow the south bank of this stream, it will take us over by Potomac Falls and just past there is Highway 674, which is where we will turn back south again.” Ben acknowledged this with a head nod as they both nudged their mounts up the small bank to the pavement. The bridge was only about 50 yards long and looked clear to Talon as he scanned it with his monocular. “Let’s get across this thing as there is no way these damn horses are going to get any quieter,” Talon said with a note of irony as he kicked the big Belgian up into a cantor. Talon didn’t have to turn and look to check on Ben as he could hear the change in tempo of the horseshoes on Ben’s mounts.

  Just as they almost reached the end of the bridge, two beams of light stabbed out from either side of the guardrails. Both men instinctively pulled their mounts to a halt as all of the horses shied away from the light. Laughter came from a man holding a flashlight on the east side of the roadway. “Well, look what we have here, a couple of travelers that have come to cross our toll road. Why don’t the both of you step down off those horses so we can talk about what it is going to cost you to cross our little bridge here?”

  While the man was talking, Talon’s eyes had adjusted to make out a total of four men. Two on either side of the road. He looked over at Ben and could see that Ben was ready.

  “Good evening,” Talon said, “I think we will just pass on the whole getting down, and I really don’t think any amount of talking is going to do much good, so with that, I tried….” As Talon said the last two words, he lifted the muzzle of his suppressed M-4 and shot the man that had been doing the talking twice in the upper chest. The Belgian shied-away from the muzzle flash to his right, which Talon had anticipated as the muzzle of the suppressed M-4 had been pointing to the left. As the horse swung to the right, the M-4 coughed out three more rounds into the next man, stitching the man from his belly button to the base of his throat. Neither of the men had done as much as begin to lift their weapons, but both of them died with looks of surprise on their faces. Dropping his M-4 on its sling, Talon’s hand dove for the holstered Glock on his right side as he turned his upper body to the right. As he was twisting in the saddle, Ben’s DP-12 boomed for the second time, and the big Belgian was having none of it. Confused and shieing from the muzzle of the M-4, the sound and large flash signature of Ben’s DP-12 shotgun was just too much for the big horse. Rearing up, the big Belgian caught Talon totally by surprise and dumped Talon unceremoniously onto the pavement. Talon landed on the pavement flat on his back and bouncing the back of his skull off the pavement. The impact from falling from almost six feet felt like someone had hit him across the upper back with a baseball bat. He lay dazed on the pavement for several seconds without moving as all of the breath had been knocked out of him along with the blow to his skull. Feeling like a fish out of water, Talon lay on the pavement attempting to get his lungs going again. In the back of his mind, he knew he needed to get up and help Ben, but as he struggled to gain control of his body, it refused to move or do anything other than gasp for air.

  Anticipating what Talon was going to do, Ben was ready when Talon opened fire on the man doing the talking. Ben could not see how many men were on Talon’s left, but he was confident that Talon would take care of those, but right now, he had at least two facing him from about 15 feet. The closest man was armed with what appeared to be a Ruger 10/22 with a long after-market magazine, but the man flanking that guy was standing casually with a semiauto sporting shotgun cradled in his arms. Ben made up his mind that the guy with the shotgun had to be the first to go, he was just too relaxed for what the situation was. So when Talon began talking, Ben tensed his shoulders, and when the signal came, he had his weapon up and on the guy with the shotgun in an instant. Firing as he came onto his target Ben blinked and realized that the guy was not there. As fast as Ben was, this guy was faster. He had already begun to drop to the ground as Ben came up and fired, resulting in Ben’s shot passing over his body by less than six inches. What the guy hadn’t taken into account was the type of shotgun Ben was carrying. While Ben first shot missed, his follow-up shot with the second barrel of the DP-12 didn’t. That was a close-run thing, but no prizes for second place thought Ben. Racking the shotgun, Ben caught movement out of his peripheral vision and realized it was Talon falling backward out of the saddle. A moment of horror almost froze Ben and made him turn towards Talon, but his hand slamming the pump mechanism of his shotgun back into battery brought his attention back to the second man to his front. The second man was clearly panicking and having trouble finding the safety on the 10/22. Swinging the shotgun to the left, Ben’s reactions were much better, and his next two shots caught the .22 shooter in the chest and head. Ben was shooting OO buckshot, but at the range of 15 feet, the shot had barely had time to separate from the wad. This resulted in the eight
.33 caliber pellets striking in the size of a man’s fist. Ben’s first shot punch dead center into the man’s chest completely destroying the man's heart and severing his spine, his second shot almost decapitated the man.

  Working the action of the shotgun again, Ben scanned the area for any additional shooters. Seeing no one in the immediate area, he turned with fear towards where he had last seen Talon falling.

  Jumping down from his saddle, Ben moved over to where Talon lay motionless on the pavement. As he bent over Talon, he could see that Talon’s eyes were open, and he was struggling to breathe. Ben beginning frantically searching for the bullet wound, his mind telling him Talon must have been hit in at least one of his lungs by the way he was struggling to breathe. His panic only increased as he saw the spreading blood from under Talon’s head. Sliding his hand under Talon’s head, he attempted to get Talon to meet his eyes as he asked, “Talon, where are you hit? I can’t find the bullet wound! Talk to me, tell me where you are shot at.”

  That was when Talon’s lungs finally relaxed enough for Talon to get a lung full of air. The rattling of his sucking in the air just panicked Ben all the more. “Hang on Talon, I can’t do this by myself, you have to help me,” cried Ben as he tore at Talon’s shirt buttons in an attempt to open Talon’s shirt. Ben had just managed to rip off the top two buttons from Talon’s shirt before Talon’s hand reached up and grabbed one of Ben’s hands.

  “Stop,” grasp Talon, pushing Ben’s hands away from his shirt, ‘JUST FUCKING STOP,” shouted Talon as he got a couple lungs filled with air. Talon rolled onto his side and finally managed to sit up with Ben’s help. “Just make sure the horses are secure and that no one else is around that is going to shoot us, I’m fine, see to the horses.”

  For a couple of seconds, Ben just froze in place, but then he jumped to his feet and turned to face Talon’s big Belgian. The horse was standing stock still but with a panicky look in his eyes. As Ben took a step toward him, the big horse began to turn away for Ben as if he was going to run. Ben took two quick strides and grabbed the trailing rope linking to the two horses together. Pulling on the rope, he was able to move forward and grab the Belgian’s reins. Speaking softly to the horse, he moved forward and gently rubbed the horse’s neck until he saw the horse relax. Taking the horse over to the guard rail, he secured the reins to the guardrail. Moving quickly, he walked over to his horse and did the same.

  Getting his breathing under control, Talon pulled his right-hand glove off and reached up and gingerly touched the back of his head. Wincing slightly, he looked at his fingertips that were dark with blood under the moonlight. Rolling onto his hip, he pulled a bandana out of his left rear pocket, squirted some water from his drinking tube on it, and applied gentle pressure to the split skin on the back of his head.

  After securing the horses, Ben did a quick check of the area for any more men, but everything seemed quiet except for the noises the horses were making. Rushing back over to Talon, he was relieved to see him sitting up and cursing in a low voice to himself. “You ok?” asked Ben.

  “Fuck no I’m not ok, I’m just sitting here taking a break. Get your ass over here and give me a hand,” ordered Talon.

  Ben stepped closer and took the hand Talon held out, helping the older man to his feet. In a much calmer tone, Talon said, “Thanks, now go get that first aid kit off the packhorse for me.” Ben moved over to the packhorse and retrieved the first aid kit and handed it to Talon. Opening the latches on the kit, Talon located one of the several small tubes of blood clotting. Handing the tube to Ben, Talon told him what to do, “Get your gloves off and wash out the cut, then squeeze out a line of this as big as the lead of a pencil. Don’t touch the cut with your hands, just get this blood clot into the wound so we can get the hell out of here. Very rarely are head wounds like this serious, but they bleed like a son of a bitch.” While he was talking, Talon had located a small squeeze bottle of wound wash and handed that to Ben also.

  Ben ripped his gloves off and pulled his headlamp from his vest pouch. Double-checking the red filter was in place, he took the wound wash bottle from Talon and moved so he could see the cut on Talon’s head. The wound was still bleed fairly heavily. The impact with the pavement had created a gash on the back of Talon’s head almost two inches long, and it was spread open about half an inch. Doing as Talon had said, he used the wound wash to rinse out the gash. Talon handed him the bandana, and Ben used that to soak up as much of the blood as he could before squeezing the tube of blood clot into the open gash.

  As Ben squeezed the blood clot into the wound, Talon let out a harsh hiss and said, “Fuck that burns.” Causing Ben to stop applying the ointment. “Don’t stop, get it in there. We need to be moving before other people come to see what the shooting was about,” ordered Talon. Ben finished applying the blood clot and took the pressure bandage Talon handed to him over his shoulder. Holding the pad directly on the wound, he handed the ties to Talon, who wrapped the ties around the front of his forehead and handed the ties back to Ben. Ben pulled the ties tight and tied them off on the left side of Talon’s head. With that finished up, Talon pulled a watch cap out of his vest and gently eased it on over the bandage. “Thanks,” Talon said, “Now, let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Ben pulled his gloves back on and hurriedly put everything back into the first aid kit and put it away on the packhorse. Talon stood by his horse and pulled the partially spent magazine from his M-4 and replaced it with a full magazine. Pulling some loose rounds from his vest pouch, he quickly reloaded the magazine and put it away into a mag pouch. Without saying anything, Ben quickly reloaded his DP-12 from the bandoleer hanging across his chest. Talon nodded his approval and turned to mount his horse. He took a few moments to rub the Belgian head and talk gently to him for a couple of sentences. Feeling the big horse relax, Talon took the reins and pulled himself back up into the saddle.

  Quickly following suit, Ben untied his mounts from the guardrail and mounted his horse. Turning the two horses, he followed Talon to the end of the guardrail and down the small embankment. They rode at a walk for over an hour before coming to a blacktop road. Stopping within the tree line, Talon consulted his map for a few seconds before nodding and gesturing to the south. Moving over closer to Ben, he explained what they were going to do, “Ben, about three miles down here on our right is a good-sized park with a small lake. I’m hoping no one is around at the park and we will hole up there for the day.”

  Talon swore to himself again as his horse broke stride, he was beginning to wonder if Shadow was doing it on purpose. His head felt it was going to explode without including the jarring the horse added each time he stumbled or broke stride. He fought off the urge to call it and pull into a copse of trees and set up camp for the day. But the mantra, make a plan and stick to the plan, kept playing over and over in his mind. Realistically it couldn’t be much further to the planned stop. They had been making fairly good time since leaving the bridge where he had suffered this head bump. He wasn’t a fool, but he might be playing the part fairly convincingly right now. He knew he had at least a mild concussion from the graceful landing he had performed when Shadow threw him back at the bridge. But he also knew that it would be ok within the next 24 to 48 hours. He had been mildly nauseous about 30 minutes after the blow, but since then, he had been ok, other than the headache. Once they made camp, he would take something to help him sleep for 12 hours, and he would be good to go. If not, they would just have to hold in place until he was.

  Attempting to look back over his shoulder to check on Ben, just about made him throw up again. So instead, he pulled the horse to a stop and motioned with his hand for Ben to come up beside him. “Go ahead and take the lead for a few minutes, I’m finding it hard to concentrate, and I don’t want to walk us into another ambush. The turn off will be marked Park Authority, Lake Fairfax. It will not be a normal entrance for the public, but I don’t think anyone will be there. Once we get to the main building, keep going around it
to the maintenance shed. Hopefully, it won’t be full of vehicles, and we will be able to keep the horses inside with us. I’m going to close my eyes and try and get this headache to go away. Shadow will just follow you, but keep an eye on him.”

  Ben said, “Go ahead, I’ll keep the pace down to a slow walk. Looking at the map, we should be coming up on the park soon.” Putting away his map, Ben nudged his pair of horses forward to take the lead. Shadow stomped one hoof, letting them know he should be leading, but a word from Talon settled him down, and he fell in behind Ben’s horses.

  Ben had been right as only about 20 minutes passed before he turned the small group off the blacktop road and onto the shoulder to bypass the cable stretched across the maintenance road entry. The park roads were paved, so Ben kept the horses off to the side of the road so they wouldn’t make as much noise walking in the pine needles. He saw the main building come into view through the trees. Ben pulled up and dismounted, leading the two horses deeper into the trees he found a young pine tree that had been blown over by some recent storm. Securing his two horses, he walked over to Shadow and led him and the packhorse over and secured them.

  Without saying a word, he helped Talon down from his saddle, and half carried him over to a large pine tree and helped him sit down at the base of the tree. Keeping his voice low, Ben explained that he was going to recon the buildings and would be back in just a few minutes. Talon acknowledged him but kept his eyes closed due to the pain.

  Double-checking his equipment, Ben put on his PVS-14 again. It was darker with all the trees in the area, and he would need the night vision device to recon the area. Glancing back over to Talon, Ben saw Talon had not moved from the position he had left him. Knowing the best thing he could do for him was to get him to a place he could rest drove Ben forward toward the park buildings. Moving steadily but quietly, Ben approached the main building until he had a clear view of the building. Stopping and watching for several minutes, he could not detect any movement or smoke from the chimney. This didn’t prove that no one was there, but the lack of fire was a good indication no one was residing in the building.