by Dennis Elder
“There must be some way I can get credit for finding those women but without having to ride up North to capture them,” he thought to himself.
His mind went through several different scenarios. But each time Ivan wanted him to go along with the group tasked with capturing the women. He thought on it hard.
“Maybe it will come to me in the morning,” he thought. And then Ralphy rolled onto his side and feel asleep.
West from Nippon, where the city road runs back to meet I-15, there are a few high rocky outcroppings. Jake and Jacob had positioned themselves in the perfect spot. To the East they could look down the five-mile two lane road that leads to Nipton. To the South they had a view of I-15 for 20 miles. This way they could watch for their two convict friends coming back from Nipton and then riding toward Vegas.
Jake unrolled his sleeping mattress started filling it with air. Jacob was on first watch. It was dark, but Jake had taught him it was always more important to keep a watch out than to get sleep. He’d shared guard watch equally with Jake over the last two nights and been biking through the day on about five hours of total sleep. He was pretty tired tonight. But Jake told him they’d have plenty of time tomorrow to catch up while they watched Squeaky and Ralphy bike down the long stretch of I-15 toward Vegas. Because the next length of open road was nearly 20 miles long, they’d have to wait until late in the day to start out, making sure the guys they followed reached the little border town of Prim, where they’d drop down again out of sight over the next significant hill.
Jacob had the first watch. Jake would wake him at 1 am. He just needed to stay alert until 1 am.
Jake tapped Jacob on this shoulder and said, “See you in 5 hours.”
Then Jake slipped off his shoes, pulled on a wool cap and jumped into his sleeping bag. He was breathing heavily after 5 minutes.
It was dark now. No moon yet. The stars were out full and blazing. He’d never seen stars like the ones from a desert night sky. It was early December now. The daytime afternoon temperature probably reached into the high sixties. But when the sun went down so did the temperature, and fast.
“Probably get down to lower forties tonight,” he thought to himself.
Jake taught Jacob how to dress for cold weather. Extra socks, loosen your shoelaces to improve blood flow, wear multiple layers of loose fitting clothing and always, always wear a good hat. Jacob followed the instruction to the letter. He loved being with Jake and drank up anything the army ranger would teach him. He could tell Jake liked him too. They were becoming friends.
Jacob picked up the binoculars and scanned the moon lit roads below him. Jake had taught him to spot interesting things to keep his mind active. Using the binoculars to scope out the surround landscape filled most of his watch time. He was getting pretty good and noticing movement, even at night. Every once and a while he’s see a rabbit or larger animal move in the distance. Suddenly he saw a large coyote trot along the road back to Nipton. The coyote looked back over his shoulder once and then suddenly leapt to his right and disappeared behind a heavy sagebrush thicket.
“Guess a few things survived, in addition to us,” thought Jacob to himself.
Chapter 92: Mice running on cotton
Major Mark and the main group were camped about 200 yards off the road, to the Southeast and about 10 miles behind Jake and Jacob’s position. Jake and Mark talked at pre-determined times each day. That way they could turn off their radios and preserve precious battery life.
The young people from the group had pestered Mark for two days to have a campfire. He finally relented tonight, but only if they were willing to carry their gear far enough from the main road so that no one could possibly see the fire’s flames.
The tents were up and a small open fire burned at the center of some rock formations. The cover was good. Mark was sure no one could see their fire from the freeway. But no matter, as soon as it was dark, watch assignments were handed out, two veterans with two newbies. Each person dressed warm, kept their backs to the tents, and stood through their two-hour watch cycle with rifles pointed toward the dark unknown.
Everyone else was huddled around the campfire talking in groups. Frank was showing William how to field strip his handgun. Boon was showing Kevin and Marylin some basics about the guns they had found for them back in Baker. Both were simple bolt-action rifles. The good thing was they both fired the same ammunition, a 30-30 round. And they found plenty of ammo too. Mark hoped the new additions to their group would not have to learn to fire their rifles until they were a hundred miles beyond Las Vegas. His plan was to sneak around Vegas and avoid the Convict army. Gunfire would attract unwanted attention.
This was their second night eating freeze-dried food. It wasn’t half bad really. And no one had gotten sick.
Bike riding partnerships had been changed up a bit. Jake always rode with Jacob now. That was his best pair. Jacob loved being with Jake and Jake saw a lot of promise in the kid. Sam and Susie had decided to pair up. It was obvious enough anyway - since they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. So, Mark decided to pair them up. Doc and Silvia were still together. Randy and Caroline stayed the same. So did Tyrone and Teresa, Boon and Jeremy, Mark and Gracie, and Mary and Lenny. Mary took on Connie and of course Kevin and Marylin rode and slept together. This way every partnership had one adult in it. When it came to sleeping arrangements, the younger girls paired up in tents sometimes three at a time and the guys bunked together separately. Sleeping never seemed to be much of problem. After dinner, everyone naturally gravitated to their sleeping bags out of sheer exhaustion. The only moaning came when the younger kids were woken in the middle of the night for guard duty. Frank managed the duty roster and posted it for everyone to see.
Frank suddenly came back in to the firelight. He’d been walking the parameter, talking to each guard. Making sure they had what they needed. He headed straight for Mark and stopped by his side. Both men looked over the group. A few more headed off to their sleeping bags.
“Cold tonight,” offered Mark.
“Yea,” said Mark. I think there’s some hot water left in the pan there. Get yourself some coffee or cocoa. Cocoa was good tonight.”
“No coffee for me,” said Frank as he blew warm air into his cupped hands. I’m off duty for once and I’m looking forward to an uninterrupted sleep.”
“Sounds good,” said Mark. “I drew 4 am to 6 am,” countered Mark. “Not too bad.”
“Better that than 2 to 4 am,” countered Frank. “That’s the worst.”
“Amen,” said Mark and then sipped more cocoa from a tin cup.
“Amen,” replied Frank.
A full minute passed in silence before Frank spoke again.
“You think we’ll ever make it to Salt Lake City?” asked Frank.
Mark had thought a lot about that question for the last few days. He was a little slow to respond.
The problem isn’t transportation,” said Mark. “We’ve got good people and good bikes.”
Mark took another sip of cocoa.
“What I do worry about is what we’ll find in Vegas,” continued Mark. “Those two bozos we met in Baker were clearly ex-convicts. Who knows how many other same type scuzz balls are waiting for us in that city.”
“But you’re convinced we need to go that way,” said Mark.
“Yep,” said Mark.
“So, you’ve got a plan?” asked Frank.
“Yep,” said Mark again.
“Involve any shooting?” asked Frank.
“Hope not,” replied Mark. “Our best chance is to sneak past any outer rim guards. If necessary, we may need to quietly eliminate them and then slip through and around the backside of town.
Mark took another sip of Hot Chocolate.
“We’ll be pedaling hard, nighttime op, quiet like church mice running on cotton. Hopefully we’ll be miles up the road before they know we were even in the neighborhood.”
Frank didn’t respond right away. Both men continue
d to look at the last of the groups still huddled around the dying fire.
“I liked the mice, cotton analogy,” said Frank in deadpan.
“Thanks,” said Mark. “Worked on it all day.”
A few more minutes went by. Boon and William were the last to leave the campfire.
“Think I’ll hit the sack,” said Frank.
“Night,” offered Mark.
“Night,” said Frank, as he turned away and headed for his tent.
Mark stood by himself for another hour thinking through a few challenges they could face when moving through Las Vegas. Then he double-checked the sentries. They were all good. Finally, the Major relented and decided to get some sleep.
Chapter 93:
Ivan and Claudio had front row seats surrounding the fight ring and were nursing a couple of warm beers. Two big bruising men were slugging it out on the ring’s canvas floor. The referee tried to keep things legal, but in the second round one of the two fighters backhanded the ref in the head for telling him to cut out the low blows. The backhand sent the lighter referee to the ground. That was about the only thing that got the crowd to cheer a bit. Ever since the backhand, the ref was a less direct with his instruction.
Every Wednesday night they scheduled fights for all the guys in Vegas. At first the men loved it. Everybody came for the best show in town. But lately attendance was off. The quality of the fights was deteriorating. Ivan sensed it whenever he was in a large group now. He was worried he was slowly losing his leadership grip on the men. He sensed there were a growing number of other guys who felt they might have a better idea how to run things. Two days ago, somebody tried to knife him when he was coming out of his office. Ivan blocked the initial knife thrust and stood the man off for a few seconds until Claudio came down the hall and broke the guy’s windpipe with one decisive and very violent punch. Claudio Martinez was the group’s senior weapons officer and Ivan’s #1 guy. Ivan got a nasty slash on his forearm for his trouble.
“You notice how we seem to be losing a few of the boys on fight nights, said Ivan, as he looked around the arena.
The Sands hotel had an outdoor fight arena in its back-parking lot. With no air conditioning, it was the best place in town to stage a fight. Comfortable seats and a huge overhead tent awning kept the sun off.
“Yea,” replied Claudio, without looking around. “I noticed.”
“I wonder where all the men are,” questioned Ivan.
“I think it’s because we got no women now,” offered Claudio.
Ivan didn’t respond right away. He knew they had a serious shortage of women to go around in Vegas.
“I’m hearing rumors some of the boys want to go down to LA and see what they can find,” said Claudio.
“Any names forthcoming?” asked Ivan.
“Nah. Just talk,” said Claudio. “Nobody’s brave enough to speak their mind just yet.”
“But you’re thinking they will pretty soon?” questioned Ivan.
“Bound to sooner or later,” replied Claudio.
“Because of the women,” said Ivan.
“Because of the women,” repeated Claudio.
The fight bell rang and the two bloodied men stumbled toward their respective corners for a break. Managers with red stained towels and nasty dispositions got in the faces of each fighter and started barking advice. Ivan took a long pull from his beer and then set it down on the table next to his front row seat.
“Ralphy and Squeaky should be back soon with that woman,” said Ivan.
“Any day now,” said Claudio. “If they found her.”
“I am counting on that woman to restore a little morale around here,” stated Ivan.
“She’d do that,” replied Claudio.
“But only if they bring her back,” responded Ivan.
Claudio didn’t respond right away, but slowly turned his eyes toward Ivan for the first time.
“You thinkin they might not bring her back, maybe keep her for themselves and move on?” probed Claudio.
“I’d be tempted,” said Ivan.
The bell rang again and the big men shuffled back toward the ring’s center. One of the men was bleeding badly from the nose and his lip had a three-inch split spreading down toward his unshaven chin. Blood dripped to the canvas floor wherever the fighter stood. He didn’t look like he could go much longer.
Tomorrow or the next day we better send two guys after them,” said Ivan.
“Good guys or more weasels like Ralphy?” asked Claudio.
Send two good guys,” replied Ivan. “We need to send a message. Make sure the men know we hold people accountable.”
“OK,” responded Claudio.
“Put the word out what we’re plannin to do,” said Ivan. Ask for volunteers. Mention the woman too. That might sweeten the pot, get us a better grade of bounty hunter.”
“You got it, boss,” said Claudio.
Both men heard a loud and sickening smack as one of the big fighters fell to the canvas. From the sound alone, you knew the guy wasn’t getting back up. The crowd offered a few cheers mixed with vicious boos. Then the little referee started out his count.
Ivan turned to look and see who was still standing inside the ring. To his surprise the man with the busted nose and split lip was holding his hands in the air in triumph as he looked down on the defeated man lying on the dirty and bloody canvas floor.
Well,” said Ivan. “Wonders never cease.”
Chapter 94: Roger that
Squeaky and Ralphy were up early. At lEast it was early for them. By 8 am they were coasting on a downhill stretch of I-15, about a mile past Jake’s and Jacob’s positions, rolling toward Vegas. They’d eaten what they could find in Nipton, and then scavenged and packed as much water as they could carry. Jake and Jacob didn’t even need binoculars to watch them today. They just sat with their backs against a couple of North facing rocks as they at their breakfast food.
“You know this granola stuff is pretty good,” offered Jacob.
“Yea, I like it too,” said Jake, as he checked his watch. “Why don’t you call the Major and report,” continued Jake as he handed the radio to Jacob. It was the first time Jacob had held the radio. Jake just kept eating his granola while watching the two convicts on the long road below them.
“I’ve never…” began Jacob, feeling nervous as he looked closely at the radio’s dials.
“You know how to use it?” asked Jake.
“Pretty sure,” replied Jacob. “I’ve watched you enough.”
“Then give the Major a call,” said Jake. “We always check in at 8 am. Just tell him what you know and answer his questions. Just a report,” finished Jake as he set down his now empty bowl of granola and put his head back against the rock for a little shuteye. The ex-army ranger’s eyes were closed, but he listened closely to how Jacob responded.
The young man checked his watch. About thirty more seconds before 8 am. He set down his bowl and turned on the radio’s power switch. At exactly 8 am he pressed the send switch.
“This is forward one calling, forward one, over,” said Jacob into the radio.
A small amount of radio hiss leaked from the small speaker. But there was no response. Jacob waited a bit and then depressed the radio send switch again.
“This forward one calling,” said Jacob. “Come back, over.”
The radio hissed again and then the Major’s voice cracked back.
“This main body one,” said Major Mark. “Is this Jacob, over?”
“That’s a roger, over,” offered Jacob with a grin on his face.
Jake couldn’t help cracking a thin smile as well.
“Ready to report, over” said Jacob as he tried to follow the exact language Jake had been using the past few days.
“Jake there, over?” asked Mark.
“Yes, sir, over,” replied Jacob.
“He give you the radio, over?” asked Mark.
“Yes, sir, over,” said Jacob, with some hesitation, hoping
he wouldn’t have to give the radio back to Jake.
“Then report, over,” said Mark.
Jacob smiled and then sat up straight-faced.
“Still positioned above main road at Nipton turn off,” began Jacob. “Targets passed us approximately 20 minutes ago, heading North on I-15. We remain undetected. Next stretch of road is long one. Estimate 18 - 20 miles to next cover hill. Estimate 2 hours before targets cross next hill and we can safely pursue, over.”
