This We Will Defend

by C. A. Rudolph

  “What the hell happened?” he demanded. “Who did this? Was it Hunter? I’m going to kill him, I swear to God.”

  Lauren turned to John and laid the unhurt side of her face on him. John gestured in the affirmative to Alan. Hearing Alan’s roar, Michelle dashed to her daughter and began studying the damage.

  “Where is he? I’m going to kill the son of a bitch!” Michelle expelled angrily. She reached for Lauren and pulled her close, surveying the damage to her daughter’s face. “Let’s go find him—now. Now, Alan!”

  Alan held up a hand. “Wait…”

  “Don’t tell me to wait,” Michelle said. “This is bullshit. We need to go to his house and beat him senseless right now!”

  Alan sighed and stared at the ground, his heart beating rapidly. “Details, John,” Alan said with all the calm he could muster. “Give me details.”

  John shrugged. “Hunter is a jerk,” he said. “He cheated on Lauren at the party. She found out, got mad, and hit him. And he punched her.”

  Alan closed his eyes while his skin began to turn as crimson as the blood beneath it. “I’m going to kill him.”

  “I’ll drive,” Michelle said. She began walking with Lauren toward the kitchen, her arm over Lauren’s shoulder.

  Lauren stopped, pulled away from her mother, and went back to John. She pulled in close and kissed him on his cheek. “Thank you,” she said. “Things are going to be different now between you and me, okay? I promise.”

  John smiled as her hand met his and then pulled away seconds later when Lauren rejoined her mother. As they moved out of sight, his attention turned to Alan and he continued, “Lauren also got into a fight with the girl after she found out, but it was in self-defense. I think she hurt her pretty bad.”

  Alan looked up. “She did?”

  John nodded. “And I handled Hunter,” he said timidly. “He won’t be bothering her anymore—so there’s no need to kill him.”

  Alan exhaled a loud sigh and put his hand on John’s shoulder. “I’ll see if I can explain that to my wife.”

  Lauren hung her head as a highly-aggravated Michelle wiped the dried blood from her face. She held an ice pack on her cheek and her body was shivering. When Alan appeared in the kitchen, he put his hand on her shoulder, and tears began to roll out of Lauren’s eyes.

  “Hey, L. Can you look at me, please?” he asked. “I’m not mad at you.”

  “Are you sure?” she whimpered.

  “I’m sure,” Alan said. “I’m proud of you, L. I didn’t want you to go to that party tonight. Bad things tend to happen at parties and I didn’t want to chance you becoming a part of them. But you’re a different type of person than those kids you were around tonight. You’re unique in your own way—you always have been. You stand your ground and you couldn’t care less about what’s popular. You’ve never been like that, and I’ve always admired that about you.”

  Lauren’s lips began to quiver. More tears rolled from her eyes.

  “I’m going to say this and then I’m never going to bring it up again. I think you’ve been through enough tonight.”

  Alan pulled up a barstool that matched the one Lauren was seated on and took a seat, then placed his hands together on his lap.

  “You are my daughter, and you deserve nothing but the best, from the best person that can offer it to you. You deserve to be placed on a pedestal, not treated like trash—like you were tonight. You deserve to be protected, not thrown to the wolves. You deserve to be treated fairly. You deserve to be loved by someone who knows what it means. And, L, there’s not many boys out there who know what it means.”

  Lauren’s tears began to dry up as Michelle finished patching up her face. Michelle smiled at her through her anger and handed Lauren a glass of wine, which Lauren took a surprisingly generous swallow from.

  “Some good things came out of this, L. You defended yourself when you needed to,” Alan continued. “But you misjudged and underestimated some people tonight though—didn’t you?”

  Lauren nodded. She wasn’t proud of herself right now and her face was throbbing. She didn’t have any words to say.

  “Never. Ever. Under any circumstance allow a man to raise his hands against you,” Alan said. “Any man who would do so is—subhuman. He doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t deserve anyone. The only thing he deserves is to get beat down savagely—every single day for the rest of his life. Hunter is lucky that I don’t go over to his house right now and burn his damn house down around him for what he did to my baby girl.”

  “Seconded,” Michelle agreed.

  Lauren reached for her father’s hands. He pulled her hands into his and gripped them tightly.

  “I hit him first, Dad,” she said. “It was my fault.”

  “I don’t give a damn,” Alan retorted. “Even if you were both in the wrong, he had no right to hit you. He brought you there under false pretenses. He wronged you. You were upset and had every right to be. You didn’t just come at him, looking for a fight.” Alan paused as a smile started to spread across his face. “From what I gather, a young lady learned a lesson tonight because of you.”

  “I knew I couldn’t win a fight with Hunter,” Lauren admitted. “But that girl…I was going to kill her, Dad. I wanted to so bad.”

  “So, learning martial arts was a good idea after all, huh?”

  Lauren shrugged. “I guess.”

  “You chose your battles and exercised self-control by not killing someone. I’d call that success,” Alan said lightheartedly. “You know, L, I don’t like seeing you make bad decisions. It’s hard to just stand by and watch you do it. As a parent though, I have to. It’s the only way you’re going to learn for yourself. Your mom and I have never sheltered you. We’ve done our best to be as open with you about everything so that when you do have experiences like this, there are far fewer surprises.” He took a long pause and waited for Lauren to look him in the eyes. “Aside from all this, aside from everything that’s happened tonight, we love you. And I swear to you we will always be on your side, even when you screw up. No matter what, we have your back. We always will.”

  Chapter 7

  FEMA Resettlement Camp Bravo

  Woodstock, Virginia

  Wednesday, August 4th (Several months earlier)

  For the first time in her life, Karen Mitchell didn’t have any fight left in her. During the most uncertain times that had ever befallen the country, and in a career field dominated by the opposite sex, she’d fought hard to get where she’d been—a well-respected chief correctional officer in the second-largest FEMA Resettlement Camp in Virginia. As of a week or so ago, she’d been relieved of those duties—her employment status having been terminated. Karen was now a prisoner being held captive by none other than her former employer. Her arms were bound behind her in what felt like a set of thick plastic straps. Her ankles were locked in metal shackles, which were moored to the floor by a short, heavy chain that severely inhibited her lateral movements. She’d given up on trying to move around because it simply took too much effort for her underfed and overly exhausted body to perform. At one point, Karen had managed to injure herself after a primal, desperation-fueled attempt to break free. Her bruised face and the strained muscles in her back and legs still bore the pain and served as a warning against trying again.

  Karen had lost track of time. Day and night had merged together outside the metal crypt she’d been confined to. She couldn’t remember when she’d last seen anything other than complete darkness or heard anything other than muffled noises. Right after the incident, she’d been blindfolded and hog-tied before being brought here. The floor and walls were cold and made of a rough, rusty metal. Karen assumed she’d been placed into a solitary confinement cell—a shipping container in the camp’s Southern Annex, several of which were used to hold inmates—specifically, those scheduled for humane termination. Before the recent trouble she’d managed to find herself in, Karen had seen those containers with her own eyes. She knew where they
were and what they were used for. Putting those thoughts together, Karen assumed she knew what was planned for her. This was as helpless as she’d ever felt in her entire life, and her willingness to live was now hanging by a thread.

  Karen had positioned her body into a fetal position on the cold metal floor of the container. She was only partially clothed, having been relieved of her uniform, and spent most of her time either shivering or sweating. During the day, the sun warmed the container enough to bring her out of a near-hypothermic state—which she’d return to overnight. Without additional clothing or blankets, there was no way she could regulate her body temperature. She was always either too hot or too cold. In addition to being constantly uncomfortable, Karen had become chronically dehydrated. Her stomach wouldn’t stop growling. Her extremities took turns falling asleep due to poor circulation. She was in bad shape.

  Just as Karen felt she was either going to fall asleep or lose consciousness again, she began hearing voices coming from outside the cell. They got closer, and she heard the sounds indicating that the door was being opened. Karen lifted her head from the floor, and when light started to fill the void, her eyes began to uncontrollably fill with tears. The pain of seeing light for the first time in days was agonizing. A human shadow, whose footsteps echoed throughout the container, approached her and helped block some of the intruding light. Even so, Karen still had a tough time keeping her eyes open. Then she heard a familiar male voice.

  “Oh gosh,” the man’s voice said. “Karen? Can you hear me? Are you able to sit up?”

  Karen felt a strong hand touch her shoulder and then another reach under her arm. With her visitor’s help, she moved herself into a seated position, her legs crossing over each other. She sat slumped over, her posture displaying her complete lack of energy.

  “Jason?”

  Karen thought she knew who this person was, but wasn’t entirely certain. The tone of his voice and the strength of his touch were both familiar to her—and were enough to wager an educated guess.

  Jason sighed. “Yeah, Karen. It’s me,” he confirmed, in a soft tone that displayed his worry. He unrolled a wool blanket he had tucked under his arm and tossed it over her, then swaddled her inside it.

  Karen smiled briefly, her shivers easing, and her eyes began to fill with tears. It wasn’t long before she began to cry. It was Jason, her boyfriend—the chief of the men’s detention center. He’d surely make everything better. He was here to get her out—everything was going to be okay now, she thought.

  “Oh, thank God you’re here, Jason,” Karen whimpered through her tears as she struggled with her restraints. “Are you here to get me out? Please tell me you’re here to get me out.”

  Jason paused and looked around as if searching for a better answer than the one he had to give. He closed his eyes, sighed loudly and shook his head.

  “I can’t, Karen.”

  “What? What do you mean you can’t?” Karen asked with marked desperation in her voice. “Please, Jason…get me out of here. I’m so cold. They stopped bringing me food and water. I’m starving…and I’m so thirsty. I think they’re trying to kill me.”

  “Shhh…keep your voice down,” instructed Jason. He turned to look behind him to see if the guards who’d accompanied him were paying close attention. They weren’t. He changed his voice to a whisper. “I don’t think you realize just how bad you screwed up, Karen.”

  Jason pulled a bottle of water from his hip pocket and opened the top. He placed the mouth of the bottle to Karen’s chapped lower lip and she began taking large gulps from it.

  “This is a real mess you’ve gotten yourself into, Karen, and I’ve been doing all I can to make sense of it all,” Jason said. “You’re in a lot of trouble—a lot of trouble.” He paused and closed his eyes briefly, shaking his head in despair. “What the hell did you think you were doing?”

  Karen didn’t respond. While she drank, she began recalling what had transpired that had been the reason she’d been taken here. A lump started to form in her throat, making it more difficult to swallow.

  “Where are we, Jason?” she asked somberly. “Are we in the Southern Annex?”

  “Yes,” he replied as he used the back of his hand to gently wipe her mouth.

  Karen sighed and turned her head away. She really was in a lot of trouble—the kind that she most certainly would not be able to get out of.

  “What happened to Faith?”

  With eyebrows lowered, Jason cocked his head to the side. “Who?”

  “Faith. Faith Gallo,” Karen said. “The lady that I brought to see her husband.”

  Jason sighed. “Jesus,” he murmured. He turned around and motioned to a guard who stood just outside. “Would you mind turning on the lights and shutting the door, please?” he said. “I won’t be long.”

  The guard nodded and without question reached inside, turning on the lights with a flip of a switch. He then closed the door as the hinges creaked loudly. Karen began opening her eyes, but even the moderately bright interior lights were still a bother. Still, she wanted to see Jason’s face so that she could gauge his expression.

  “Karen, you need to listen to me—and listen good,” Jason said as he took a seat. “As you probably already know by now, you’re in seriously deep shit. What you did broke about a dozen rules, and the brass isn’t taking it lightly. No one is. From what I hear, they’re going to charge you with treason.”

  “Can you please just tell me what happened to Faith,” Karen persisted, ignoring Jason’s commentary.

  Jason sighed loudly. “From what I understand, she’s been placed back in women’s detention. It doesn’t look like they’re going to find her at fault for what happened, though—at least, not the kind that will put her here with you. Evidently, you took the fall for her.”

  Karen hesitated. “And her husband. What about him?”

  “Karen, come on…”

  “Please. Just tell me.”

  “Two agents removed him from my building. I don’t know what’s become of him,” Jason said. “They probably took him for his final walk. Honestly, I was kind of expecting to see him in this conex with you.”

  “When did they take him?” Karen asked.

  “A few days ago. They just came in and got him. No paperwork and no explanations—but you already know how that works.”

  Karen lowered her head and sobbed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m really, really sorry, Jason.” She paused. “I’m sorry about all of this.”

  “Dammit, Karen…I know you’re sorry, but what were you thinking?” he asked. “Why in the hell would you jeopardize everything like that? We had a good thing here, Karen—a great thing. We could’ve lived our lives and moved on from this someday, but you had to go and do something stupid and senseless like this.”

  “You’re making it sound like it’s all over,” Karen muttered.

  “And why do you think that is?”

  “Jesus,” Karen spat. “Jason, all I did was let one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met in my life go to see her husband before he died—I’m sorry, before he was executed. I fulfilled her wish. That’s all.”

  “And in doing so, you allowed yourself to care about her,” Jason huffed. “And you jeopardized the obligations of your employment.”

  “Haven’t you ever cared about anyone under your watch before, Jason?”

  “Absolutely not,” replied Jason firmly. “Compassion equals compromise, Karen. You know that. We have a mission here and we cannot allow ourselves to get caught up in the plight of those placed under our charge.”

  “Now you’re just reading me the rule book,” Karen hissed. “And this treason business is preposterous. I didn’t break them out of prison.”

  “Karen, you brought an unauthorized individual—who was once an inmate herself—into the men’s detention center. And the inmate you brought her to see, her husband, is a registered religious and political extremist.”

  A moment passed before Karen replied
.

  “I didn’t know that,” she said.

  “And you didn’t think to research it?”

  “No.”

  “And that’s why this situation is so messed up,” Jason explained. “Sam Gallo is a hardcore right-winger—a self-proclaimed patriot. He was caught red-handed hoarding weapons and food. Even when he was offered temporary amnesty, he refused to comply, and that made him a bona fide enemy of the state.” Jason sighed. “Knowing full well what they were charged with, you should’ve done your research before doing what you did. You screwed up, Karen,” he said. “You really screwed up.”

  Karen lowered her head shamefully. “I had no idea it would come to this. But I had to do it. My conscience didn’t give me any other choice, Jason.”

  “I’m supposed to just accept that?”

  “Well, I didn’t do it to spite you or destroy what we had. You have to believe me—it was all done with good intentions.”

  Jason shrugged. “Karen, I believe you—but in the end, your intentions don’t matter. What’s done is done,” he said with finality. “You broke the rules and your actions have consequences. No one is exempt. Not me, not you, not anyone.”

  “I guess I thought it was something that could’ve just been swept under the rug,” Karen said solemnly as she pulled on the restraints that held tightly around her wrists. “I never gave much thought about it going beyond you and me. They’ve always allowed us to do our jobs without any oversight.”

  Jason placed his hand thoughtfully onto Karen’s head. “For what it’s worth, I know that you were only trying to do the right thing,” he admitted. “You’re a good person, Karen. You have more integrity than anyone I know—probably to a fault. But this had nothing to do with oversight.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The guard you talked to when you brought the lady to see her husband…he snitched. He’s been bucking for my job for months now. The prick is buddies with Seth Bates…close buddies, if you know what I mean. And if Bates knows what went on, you can bet your sweet ass that Bronson knows. There’s a good possibility that I might end up losing my job over this whole thing—or worse.”