Stolen Liberty: Behind the Curtain

by Thomas A. Watson

Holding up a handful of papers, Charlie shrugged, “That was not in the official documents I pulled. There are a lot more IDs here than bodies back in the woods. I don’t know where the extra people are right now, but they had a set of instructions for processing civilians through to ‘safe zones’. Don’t ask, because there is nothing more on it.”

  “You think they went rogue and started collecting ears?” Robbie asked.

  “Again, I don’t have that evidence in front of me to give you a definitive answer,” Charlie answered.

  Needing to keep his hands busy, Randy rolled over and adjusted his prosthetic. “We covered a lot of ground last night by following the tracks, and I don’t see the trains running today. That’s strange because today is a weekday and not a holiday. I also don’t see traffic on the roads around here.”

  “That’s nuts, we are close to I-90. We crossed it last night and the rail line parallels it into Gary. If the commuter trains are not running, then there should be a ton of traffic for folks trying to get to work,” Robbie said in confusion.

  “Do we risk trying to move during the day?” Cody asked from his prone position facing east.

  “Too risky. If we get law enforcement on our tails, we might not be able to shake them. Hate to break it to everyone, but they have more guns, bullets, and bodies, not to mention air cover. We don’t have anything to take out air assets,” Randy explained. “We wait here and hydrate, eat, and rest up. At sunset, we make the push all the way to Kristi’s house. I want to move too, guys, but this is the best option.”

  “Aren’t we close to the Dunes? We took the kids there hiking before,” Cody said, wanting more cover.

  Adjusting his AR, Randy nodded as gunfire sounded in the distance to the north. “Yeah, it’s only about four miles north of here. It may as well be on the dark side of the moon. We have an RV park just to the west and an elementary school through the trees of this forest. The school is closed, and the RV park looks full.”

  “We are so close,” Cody responded as a few shots rang out to the east.

  They remained in the thick underbrush and listened to gunshots breaking out with greater regularity to their west around noon. A group of people stumbled through the forest around two in the afternoon, laden with backpacks and carrying their belongings, heading east. The former Rangers stayed put and waited for their opportunity. Randy massaged his leg and changed the sock covering his stump before jamming it back into his prosthetic leg. Book smeared ointment on the dried skin of his hand and face to keep his exposed scar tissue moist. As the light faded, the team stood and gathered their gear. They jumped around and used tape to silence any loose gear that made noise.

  Reminding himself he was in the USA, Robbie strapped his helmet on and checked his night vision. Charlie checked his sniper system and used the scope to scan the woods before they moved. With the sun setting, Randy gave the hand signals that set Robbie at the rear with his wide-angle night vision goggles and Cody and Charlie in the middle, with himself leading their movement. Satisfied, Randy put his map away and stepped off.

  Gripping his rifle, Charlie waited until Randy had a ten meter lead before he and Cody followed. Covering their ass, Robbie walked to the tracks and joined the small team heading west. Cody and Charlie staggered themselves until the entire team covered a compact forty-meter footprint. They could react to threats from any direction, and Blaster practiced scanning their rear while keeping an eye on the trees lining the double tracks. The canyon darkened as the fleeting sun disappeared below the horizon.

  With full darkness, Randy picked up the pace until they reached an easy jog and held their rifles at the low ready. The darker it got, the more gunshots sounded off around them. Once they closed with Gary, the tracks entered more urban neighborhoods, and the crossings became street-level with the city lights still working. They picked up furtive movements along the streets and a few shouts of “Five oh!” followed in their wake.

  When the shouts started, Robbie called to Randy over the radio, “The natives have seen us. They think we are the cops.”

  Hearing Robbie’s voice over his earbud, “I’m picking up the pace. Keep it together and watch your sides.” Randy’s voice went up and down as he turned the jog into a run and grabbed the PTT (Push To Talk) toggle again. “Check our rear, Blaster.”

  “So far, so good. I can still hear them yelling and moving to the tracks. We have to keep going to get out of their area, Shadow,” Robbie answered.

  They pushed on until they reached an area less developed and wooded. The gunshots from the south, or downtown Gary, increased.

  From the back of the formation, Robbie started humming a tune to himself. After a few seconds, Charlie picked it up and chuckled to himself. He keyed his microphone, “Blaster, I never knew you liked musicals. When did you ever see ‘The Music Man’?”

  “Dude, I’m sorry. I can’t get it out of my head,” Robbie laughed to himself.

  Over the radio, Randy cut in, “Well, I can think of something to take your mind off that damn song. Contact left. Lots of contact. Babyface, watch the right flank. Everybody else, orientate to the left.” They broke from the comfort of the double-lined trees and out into the open space where the rail line they’d followed in. Less than a hundred meters from their position, Gary, Indiana’s downtown came into view. Furtive movements under the street lights and random gunshots aimed at each other had the four on high alert.

  “I’m going to veer to the right and try to take us to the lower ground,” Randy told them, then skipped over the tracks and led them down the small embankment, and the city disappeared behind the concrete barrier between the interstate and the rail lines. Everyone noticed, the interstate lacked any traffic. No stalled cars dotted the six lanes of traffic going in either direction. The sound of gunfire increased, and a stray round whined over their heads like a pissed-off bumblebee.

  When the others were across, Robbie broke into a trot across the interstate with his head swiveling left and right. “Thissucksthissucksthissucksthissucksthissucksthissucks,” Robbie chanted in a whisper to himself. The lack of cover or anywhere to go if they got lit up made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. They pounded along the uneven siding and hurdled a low concrete wall before entering another line of trees following the rail line. Randy dodged around saplings. A line of trains, loaded with coal, sat on the rails and provided cover between them and threats from the right.

  “That fishbowl was not fun,” Robbie called out over the radio. The fact that they’d had no cover and the low lights from the city gave away their position as they’d run made him cringe inside. Further ahead, Randy found a denser collection of trees and called for a halt for a few minutes.

  Charlie used his scope to scan between the trees to the left. “I don’t think anyone saw us, or if they did, they are not crossing that to come at us.” He pulled his eye away from the scope. “Can we avoid doing that again?”

  “I’ll second that notion,” Robbie chimed in.

  Giving a shrug, Cody scanned the trains and asked, “What was wrong with that? Nobody shot at us, I’ll count that as a win.”

  “That was the worst possible situation, Babyface. One person with a scoped rifle and on one of those downtown buildings could have picked off at least two of us with no sweat. That was a major choke point. Going to the north would have put us in the lake, looping to the south would have brought us through miles of neighborhoods in a rough town. We can’t afford to waste time,” Charlie responded.

  “So why are we just sitting here?” the younger former Ranger smirked as Robbie caught his breath.

  Glancing over at Cody, Charlie chuckled, “Smartass. I know for a fact that Blaster has neglected his cardio workouts. He’s starting to huff and puff like an old man.”

  “I’m toting some extra weight, but it ain’t around my waist, Book. I’m ready to lighten the load,” Blaster retorted. The extra set of vests they had lashed to their assault packs from the dead cops dragged on them, but Rob
bie knew the kids and Kristi would need them on the way back to the retreat.

  “Shadow, how much further?” Cody asked.

  “Thirty miles as the crow flies. Six hours, if we keep shuffling on. We can cut time by picking it up a bit. The next few miles will be easier, since it’s mostly industrial parks and mixed forests. They were too busy in Gary shooting at each other to notice us slipping through. I didn’t hear any sirens, guys. That’s not good.” Randy stood and adjusted his pack. “Miles to go before we sleep, fellas.”

  “Well, you know we always did take the road less traveled,” Charlie let out a low chuckle.

  Checking his weapons, Blaster shook his head, “I hate it when you get all poetic on me. Can we stick with history? I can carry my own water when we discuss the past.”

  “Ah, Frost was a bit of a dick, but he had some good verse, Blaster. We need to expand your horizons. I think you would like him,” Cody smiled and gave Robbie a wink.

  “Good God. Book has corrupted you,” Robbie sighed.

  Not about to get caught up in the chain yanking, Randy stepped off and let them sort themselves out behind him. Handling the easy pace, Robbie called Randy on the radio, “You can pick it up a little, Shadow. I can keep up.” Randy didn’t reply, but Robbie saw him pull ahead a little by picking up the pace until Cody and Charlie closed the interval. The gunfire faded behind them as they ate away at the miles with lengthened strides. Occasional flurries of fighting broke out along their route, but it was directed against other citizens to the south of their path. As they turned to the left before Buffington Harbor, the battle shifted to their immediate front.

  East Chicago sounded like a New Year’s and Fourth of July rolled into one hot mess. The rail line dipped under Cline Avenue before the petroleum storage facility, but Randy pulled up short before the overpass.

  “Book, check the underpass. I’m seeing movement to the right under the bridge,” Randy whispered loud enough for Book to hear with his amplified hearing device.

  “I see two tangos on the right and another three on the left. They are armed with rifles or shotguns,” Charlie called out from his optic, peering into the darkness. The longer weapons stood out, and they happened to be pointed in their direction. “They heard us coming, but I don’t think they can see us in the dark.”

  “Let me sneak a peek and see if they are friendly,” Randy whispered and dropped his pack before taking off to the right and out of sight. Dropping down, Robbie followed Randy’s movements until he moved behind some brush next to the concrete bridge abutment.

  “Hey, do you five mind not shooting me? I can talk or kill all of you. If that’s what you want, I’ll help you out,” Randy called out in a low voice. Charlie heard the request from his position and laughed to himself from behind his scope.

  “Fuck you! You are trespassing! Step out so I can see you,” a rough voice responded to Randy.

  Adjusting his aim, Randy tried to reason, “We are just passing through. I’m on a time crunch, so I’ll just kill you all now and be on my way.”

  “Bring it, Pig! You have to come through us if you want to get at our families,” a different voice yelled.

  Ready to drop his finger on the trigger, Randy sighed, “Dumbasses. We are not here to hurt anyone, guys. You have a great ambush spot, but not everyone is out to kill you or your relatives. Can you back off and let us pass so we can get to our family, or should I cut over this embankment and just swing around you?”

  “We will cut you down on the other side. There is no cover over there,” the first voice from under the bridge called out.

  “Are you prior service? You have a good spot here,” Randy inquired, about ready to tell Charlie to start taking their heads off with his sniping rifle.

  “2nd Marines back in the day,” the voice responded.

  “We were in the other hell hole with the 75th Rangers. My buddies are waiting for my word to cap all five of you. I respect you for protecting your families, but we have to move through your area. If your guys will pull back and form a blocking force, you can be assured that we won’t attack your homes. I’m guessing you live in that residential neighborhood just to the north.”

  “What’s your name?” the voice asked.

  “My handle is Shadow. The rest of my crew and I go way back. Gary is a free fire zone right now. As you know, help is not coming. They are rounding up veterans, so stay sharp.”

  “They came for me yesterday. I wasn’t home, but they didn’t mind tearing my mother’s house apart looking for my guns. I dug them up and decided to turn them in when I had emptied them first.” One of the men lurking under the bridge chuckled.

  “So, do we have a truce, nameless Marine under the bridge?” Shadow asked.

  “Shit, just call me Troll. It does fit me, I guess,” the former marine responded. “Hey, watch the gangs once you get clear of the oil tanks, they tried to run up in here and we bloodied them good.”

  “I’ll tell my guys to help you whittle them down some more if they get froggy,” Randy replied.

  “Shit, it ain’t an if. They light up anyone who comes that way. If you have night vision, then stick to the shadows and nail them before they see you. They will use cars like damn technicals. I’ll call my other team to let them know you are moving through.”

  “Be careful with the radios. I have a feeling that someone is listening, and once they get their troops into place, they will come looking for you,” Randy suggested.

  Troll laughed, “I know comms security. Someone is always listening. That’s why I pulled back from our neighborhood and set up here as a blocking force. Gary is running plenty hot right now.”

  “Good times, Troll. Stay frosty.” Randy admired the guy out here defending his home and family.

  “They are pulling back from the bridge. Ease up and make sure they are keeping their word. You know how those jarheads can be about keeping their word,” Charlie called over the radio.

  Staying low, Randy crept around the concrete columns and caught sight of Troll leading his men away from the bridge. Impressed, watching the group move, Randy counted a total of ten forms creeping back to the north and forming a line behind cover.

  “Damn, he has a couple of fire teams organized over here. Good thing we talked instead of lighting them up. The way ahead is clear as far as I can tell,” Randy reported over the radio, then waved the team forward. Handing Randy his rucksack, Charlie waited until he’d pulled it on and they took off at a quick jog.

  “The good news is there are more people out here like us, trying to make things safe for loved ones,” Randy said loud enough so Cody and Charlie could hear.

  The four took off at a jog with their night vision turned off to save the batteries. The glow of the tank farm’s security lights would have overloaded the image intensifiers of their units. A mile long row of white steel storage tanks surrounded by chain-link fencing formed an impenetrable barrier to their left. The neighborhoods on the right sat silent, with only a few flickering lights glowing from the windows of the thousands of people waiting for the electricity to come back on.

  “Book, who do you think cut the power?” Robbie whispered.

  Keeping his breathing at a rhythm, Charlie jogged along and glanced at the houses with his scope. “It could be a power outage caused by a relay station going down or the lines getting cut. There are so many fires burning, I’m sure some have been hit. Hell, who’s going out to fix anything with the streets going crazy?”

  A red light blinked from the trees adjacent to the tracks. Randy slowed and had them pull into the bushes before he loped ahead to investigate. He called over the radio a quick message, “Clear. Friendlies. Come on forward.”

  The three rose and advanced to Randy standing near two dark figures. Charlie watched them through his scope, but if Randy said they were friendly, then Charlie took him at his word. The sniper lowered his rifle and watched his step on the uneven ground.

  “Troll’s guys say we can expect some e
xcitement up the line. The natives are restless,” Randy called over the radio, then adjusted his pack and thanked the two men who faded back into the trees.

  “Damn, Shadow. Those guys are your people,” Robbie noted how the two men had faded into the trees and disappeared.

  “They’re either trained like I was, or just natural stalkers. Looks like Troll has some folks with him who have experience,” Randy nodded as he got them moving again at a slower pace. Once the glare from the tank farm subsided, the team switched back to using their night vision to peer into the darkness of doorways and alleys as the city closed in around them.

  The first person to try and take a shot at them, didn’t even get the chance to pull the trigger. Charlie saw the man lurking among the trees behind an industrial building. Pulling his rifle up, Charlie called out, “Contact left,” and stroked the trigger of his rifle.

  “Clear,” he called out again when the man slumped down and didn’t move. The round through the center of his chest had destroyed his heart and lung.

  “Everyone, go weapons free. We can’t tell who’s friendly, and we don’t have time to play twenty questions. Keep it quiet, though. Blaster, no booms yet,” Randy called out, just in case Robbie had snuck in some explosives. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

  “I was denied party favors, thank you,” Robbie called back as Randy led them further down the line where the tracks crossed a narrow canal used by barge traffic. One block south of the bridge, flashing red and blue lights marking the bridge for regular traffic were blocked by two ladder trucks from the fire department and backed up by a contingent of police in full riot gear. A glance to the right, and they saw a similar setup on another bridge to the north.

  “They are shutting down traffic, but they forgot the rail lines,” Cody called out.

  Saying a silent thank you to the big Ranger in the sky, Robbie smiled to himself, “Let’s hope they keep forgetting.”

  They jogged under a traffic overpass and ran into one of the “technicals” Troll had warned them about. The gray Nissan Frontier turned right from a rail crossing and straddled one of the rails. The driver and his “crew” were probably trying to avoid the police roadblocks and get over the river.