by W. R. Benton
CHAPTER 17
John and the rest left the relative safety of the cellar, wearing chemical suits and masks. They moved under a heavy growth of oak trees. The wind was slight, but with heavy gusts at times. Finally, Tom said, “Move toward Edwards, but remain in the trees as much as possible. I think we'll be safer near the camp.”
“I want Margie on point and Sally bringing up the rear.”
Ten minutes later, as they moved through the trees, John glanced behind him and saw no trace of Sally. Where in the hell has she gone? he thought, and then stopped.
Tom ran forward to get Margie.
“She was right behind us,” Sandra said, “but she claimed she was having some problems with her mask. I think her hair kept it from sealing well.”
“Why didn't anyone say anything?” John then began to run the toward the last place he'd seen her.
He found Sally in the dirt, her mask beside her, twitching and gasping for air. Squatting and pulling an atropine injector from his chemical warfare suit, he pushed the needle end against her thigh, felt it inject her, and heard her gasp.
Dolly lay beside her and was trying to breathe as well. So John removed the atropine injector from Margie's suit and placed on the dog's thigh. When the needle entered, she gave a cry of alarm, but John was able to sooth her with his voice. She seemed to know he was trying to help. I don't know if atropine works on a dog, but will know in a few minutes, he thought, as he petted Dolly on the head.
The others arrived and Tom asked, “How far along is she? Any slobbering, shaking or breathing problems?”
“Yep and if she lives, it all depends on if I got the atropine into her quickly enough. I suspect we'll know in less than ten minutes. I want two long limbs to make a stretcher, because we'll take her with us, even if she dies. I don't want any bodies this close to the cellar.” He then moved into the trees, looking for the right limbs.
“What about Dolly?”
John stopped, shook his head and said, “We'll have to pick her up on the way back, if she's still alive.”
Sandra knelt beside Sally and then said, “She'll be incapacitated for either a short or long time, even if she lives. Atropine doesn't work the same way on all people. Some it helps right off, while others it might take much longer. Has she peed, pooped, or vomited yet?”
“Huh?” Tom asked.
“Those are indicators of the nerve agent working, and eventually her lungs will stop working.”
Rolling the woman on her back, Margie said, “The front of her pants are still dry, but wouldn't she be foaming at the mouth, too? I don't see anything to indicate she's shit her pants either.”
“Involuntary salivating is one of the symptoms, yes.”
“I don't think she's been exposed long. Should I put her mask back on her head?”
“Uh-huh, but listen to her breathing and make sure she doesn't start puking or she will choke to death with a mask on her face.”
“Move straight north, near the main highway. I think it might be the closest clear zone. They'd try to avoid spraying the road.” John said as he returned with two long straight limbs.
He then pulled two long sleeve shirts out of his pack, ran a different pole in each arm, so the bottoms of the shirts were touching. He then buttoned the buttons on the front of each shirt. “Help me place her on the stretcher.” He said, looking at Tom.
“Joshua and Tom carry her for an hour, then we'll change to me and Sandra. After that, Margie and Tom. Hopefully, after that, she'll be up and moving.” John said and then quickly added “let's move, with Margie on point and Sandra on drag.”
Two hours later, as they neared the main highway, Tom said, “Traffic coming.”
“Try to see if any are wearing chemical gear. I don't want to remove our masks, until we're damned sure the air is safe.”
“A damned tank is leading, but it's not running well. Do you hear the engine?”
“Uh-huh, and he'll never get far, not running like it is.”
The tank pulled from the road and stopped almost in front of the small group of partisans. The top hatch opened, a man's head came up, and then he moved up and out of the tank turret. He jumped to the ground and stood talking to someone in a staff car. A few minutes later, a wrecker moved to the tank and maintenance men dismounted from the back. The convoy, with the staff car, continued to move east toward Jackson.
“None are in chemical/biological gear, so this area must be safe. We can remove our masks.” John said in a whisper as he removed his. The air smelled sweet and tasted fresh to him.
When Sandra removed her mask, sweat ran from the rubber around her chin. She gave aloud sigh at the relief it brought her. John gave her a nasty look, and she understood she'd made excessive noise.
“Keep the noise down as we wait for more of the tank crew to climb out. Once a couple more dismount the tank, we'll attack. This tank must be destroyed and crew killed.” John said whispering.
Five minutes later, two other members of the tank climbed out, opened a bottle of vodka and began to pass it around. They were laughing and playing grab-ass as soldiers the world over are prone to do when the sergeants and officers were gone.
“In a few minutes, we'll toss two grenades. Tom, you throw one at the wrecker, while I do the same with the tank. Immediately following the explosions, move to the men and take them out. Any questions?”
Silence followed.
Both men removed grenades and pulled the tape holding the spoons in place. Looking around and seeing all were ready, John tossed his grenade, noticed it hit the turret with a loud clang, and then bounced to the ground, near the men. The Russians were standing in confusion as if not understanding what was going on, when both grenades exploded. Screams were heard and dust filled the air near the two vehicles.
Bursting through the brush, the small group began shooting into the fallen forms. Once the Russians were dead, John ordered the group back into the woods. He then stuck the ace of spades card in a dead Russian's mouth. He tossed a grenade into the cab of the wrecker and then ran for the brush.
Tom had moved to the top of the tank, dropped two grenades down the hatch, heard a loud clang-clang, and jumped to the ground where he started running. He was still running, almost beside John, when the grenades exploded and a flash of blinding reddish-white light shot straight up, out of the open hatch.
Moving to the group, Tom screamed, “Deeper, into the woods now, before the fuel and ammo blow on the tank!”
They moved about fifty feet when they heard a loud explosion, quickly followed by a series of secondary explosions. A second loud blast sounded, and looking over his shoulder, John saw the turret spinning high into the air. Then, it grew quiet, except for the crackling flames of the fires.
“Let's move, and take the long way back to the cellar!” John ordered.
Dolly and Sally were both alive and laying on blankets under a large oak. The sun was bright, the winds gentle, and the temperature was close to seventy. Neither of the injured were back to normal yet, nonetheless, they'd grown no worst either. Both were breathing better and Sally's mind was much clearer.
Sandra sat on an old stump and said, “They'll get stronger over time, but right now they're lucky to be above ground, both of them.”
“When do you think they'll be able to move?” Tom asked.
“Why?” John asked and then added, “Are you thinking what I've been thinking?”
Tom nodded and replied, “Probably; we need to move. We've staged two attacks from here and I'd feel better if we moved on.”
Sandra said, “They're able to move today, as long as we keep the pace slow. Keep a close watch on both of them, in case they try to meander from the path. While their bodies are in fair to good shape, their minds are still unable to concentrate for long periods.”
“Okay, we'll move further south and find a place to hole up for while. We'll take what supplies we can on the first trip, but come back for the rest later.” John replied and sta
rted stacking things against the wall nearest the entrance. “Dolly will be on a leash, so she'll stay with me.”
“Any priority on what supplies and gear goes first?” Margie asked.
“Guns, ammunition, chemical/biological gear, explosives, and first aid items first. Then food and comfort items.” John said, and then picked up an ammunition can.
“Let's move, and I want Sandra on point and Joshua on drag.”
Tom moved to his side and said, “Once we get in place and settled, I need Sandra to look at a tooth that's bothering me.”
“Is the gum inflamed?”
“Nope, but it hurts like a sonofabitch and I think it needs to come out.”
“She'll take a look at it in an hour or so. Can you wait that long?”
Tom gave a low chuckle and replied, “Sure, it's been bothering me for a month, off and on, so another hour is nothing.”
“Let's kill the chatter until we find a new place.”
Joshua neared and said, “Tom, take my place on drag for a couple of minutes. I need to talk with John.”
Tom moved back and then Joshua said, “I used to hunt, oh maybe five miles south of here and we had a rough log cabin we used. Now, it ain't much, but the last time I was there the roof didn't leak, unless it rained. Want to check it out? Has four beds made into the walls, a wood stove, and an outhouse.”
“Take the point and get us there. Have Sandra drop back with the rest of us.”
He nodded and moved forward.
A little over an hour later, the group watched the cabin as Joshua and Tom moved forward to check the place out. John was sure if Joshua hadn't pointed at the place, they would have walked right by. Brush was thick all around and long grasses grew on the cabin roof. Three windows were seen, but shutters were closed on all three.
Tom waved them in and Joshua opened the plywood door to the building. He then moved inside, where he opened all the shutters to allow fresh air to circulate. Dust covered an old wooden picnic table and cobwebs were in the corners of each wall. An old newspaper and some beer cans, remains of a better time, littered the floor. As Joshua turned to walk out, a mouse ran by him and in a zip was out the door. He grinned.
It only took Tom and Joshua a couple of hours to return to the cellar and remove the remainder of their gear and supplies. They'd all pitched in while the two were gone and cleaned the cabin. John noticed a layer of dirt on the roof and decided to ask Joshua about it when they returned. Finally, as they placed the last box on a bunk bed, he asked, “Joshua, why the dirt on the roof?”
“My brother read in some western fiction book that in the old days settlers covered their cedar shingles with dirt, to keep the risk of fire down from chimney sparks, so we did the same. I had no idea it'd end up growing grass.”
“Well, it makes sense, because dirt would also protect them if Indians tried to burn them out, too.” Tom said, and then continued, “Sandra, can you look at a tooth of mine?”
“Sure, but step outside in the sunlight.”
They left and few minutes later, she returned for her medical bag and said, “I have to do an extraction, so I need one of you guys to help me.”
Joshua smiled and said, “Not so fast. My daddy and I used to keep a quart of whiskey right about here.” He said and then lifted a wooden slate on the floor. He smiled, pulled out a bottle and said, “Brand new, too; ain't never been opened. Give Tom a snort of this before you start to work on him and he'll be easier to deal with.” He handed the bottle to Sandra.
John laughed and asked, “You don't have a couple more of those around here, do you?”
“One more,” he said, “but it's hidden in the rafters of the outhouse, or was. Let me go check.”
When Joshua walked outside, Tom was sitting on a stump sipping a canteen cup of whiskey. He grinned at him and said, “Good Kentucky bourbon, it was the best in the world.”
“Was is the key word.” Joshua said.
“Drink that up. As soon as that cup is gone, I'll pull the tooth.”
As he neared the outhouse, a copperhead snake slithered off the trail, where he'd been sunning himself, and moved into the bushes. Opening the door to the small building, Joshua expected to see another snake, but was not prepared for what he did see. He blinked rapidly a few times and then looked again. Sitting on the seat, but fully dressed, was a woman holding a pistol in her right hand, while in her left she held a baby about three years old.
“Good, yer an American. Iffen you'd been wearin' a Russian uniform I'd have sent ya to hell, mister.” She spoke with narrow eyes and Joshua believed every word.
“Listen, I won't hurt you any.” Right then, Tom screamed and he knew it wouldn't help matters.
“Y'all torturin' Russians in there?”
Joshua gave a dry laugh, which he didn't feel at all, and replied, “No, one of our men is having a bad tooth pulled.”
“I counted six of y'all, so is that all of ya?”
“Yep, six. Do you have a name?”
“Mollie, and the baby is Ruben. Do ya have any food, mister?”
“I'm Joshua and if you're hungry, come with me into the cabin and we'll feed you. We're a mixed group of men and women.”
“I saw that.”
“Come, and you can eat.” He said and then added, “Let me get something, before we go.” Joshua reached to the rafters and removed the bottle of whiskey. He then walked for the cabin.
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the woman following him with the baby riding on her hip, and thought, this woman has seen some rough times and I have no doubt, if I'd been a Russian, she would have killed me.
They passed Tom, who ignored them, and Sandra who smiled at Mollie. Entering first, he said, “I found Mollie and her baby, Ruben, hiding in the outhouse.”
“Lawdy,” said Sally, “that's a stinky place to hide.”
“She thought we were Russians.”
“Mollie,” John asked, “have the Russians been around here?”
“I got here yesterday and I ain't seen nobody, but y'all. A week or so back, they attacked our group, killed us all, except fer me and Ruben. I've been scared to death and prayin' hard some Americans would find me.”
“You're safe now; well, as safe as it gets anymore.” John replied.
Margie handed Mollie a Russian ration and said, “I know you're hungry, so dig in.”
Opening the container, she began feeding the baby first. She glanced at Margie and said, “Thank ya fer the food. Little Ruben was beside himself with hunger.”
“You must be hungry, too.” John said.
“I always feed my boy first. There is plenty of food here, so I'll eat after Ruben.”
“Mollie,” John asked, “where is your husband?”
“Franklin was caught when we hit a convoy, oh, mayhap six months back. The damned Russians put him and twenty hostages in an old church, soaked it with gasoline and burned them to death. It's not a pretty nor good way to die, sir.”
“No 'sir', because I'm just John, okay?”
“That's fine, iffen that's the way ya want it, because it doesn't matter much to me anymore. My only goal is to keep me and Ruben alive until this war stops.”
Sandra and Tom entered and sat on different bunk beds. Blood was seen on Tom's chin, but he said nothing. Sandra said, “Pulled a molar, so he'll start feeling better in a few hours. The whiskey helped him, and he's feeling little pain right now.”
“Joshua, I want you on guard outside. It wouldn't pay for all of us to be caught in here.”
Joshua stood, picked up his weapon, and moved to the door.
“If you see or hear anything, let us know. The Russians are looking for us, so they'll come, eventually.”
The man nodded and walked out.
Once outside, he leaned back against an old pine and scanned the area as he let his mind drift from one thought to another. His father had been forced to kill his mother, when the fall came, because she could no longer get her medications. Mother h
ad always been sickly and as far back as he could remember, she'd been in and out of the hospital. Toward the end, she had stage four cancer and was in some serious pain. In less then three weeks her prescription medications were gone and his father had turned to giving her whiskey from his liquor supply. A month later, the alcohol now gone, he had nothing for her pain. He'd walked into her bedroom one night and shot her in the head with a 12 gauge shotgun.
His father quit eating and he wasn't in the best of health to start with, so within a month he'd died. His last words to Joshua where, “I didn't kill your mother out of hate, son, but love. I should have died with her that day. I would have too, but I don't think suicides enter the kingdom of Heaven. God has forgiven me for killing her.”
Then his mind shifted to his wife and kids. He'd gone off to work one day, right after the fall, and when he returned, they were gone. He'd found no bodies, no blood, and no signs of a fight. Even now, he had no idea what had happened. He suspected his wife was taken for sport, but his missing kids, well, they had him stumped. A feeling of grief struck him hard, but he put his family out of his mind and remembered other things.
Tom exited the cabin, walked to Joshua and said, “We need to place a few mines and tripwires rigged to claymores around this place.”
CHAPTER 18
Colonel Izhutin sat in his office sipping vodka with Colonel Zheglov, as they discussed the prisoners that were rounded up within the last two hours. It was late in the day, after 15 hundred, but darkness would not come for about two more hours.
Izhutin asked, “We rounded up three thousand for you. Is that enough or do you spend the night and collect more tomorrow?”
“These are enough, and my trucks will be full on the return trip. If possible, Anton, collect another two thousand during the coming week.”
“Do you have enough food and shelter for so many people?”
