by Connor Mccoy
“We still lost three people. One died on the road. Two more died in this camp. Some of us are still weak, and there are also some issues. I think one of us has some vision problems now.”
Lauren nodded. So there was loss. That was, sadly, expected. The fact that she had found this many people was still miraculous in it of itself, but she had yet to spot Doctor Tran in this crowd.
“Doctor Tran?” Lauren asked softly, “What about him?”
“They took him a few hours ago,” Rosa replied, “We thought we might be finally free to move, maybe to escape, but then we’d hear one of Clark’s men outside. We couldn’t dare show that we weren’t that sick.”
“Some of us got well before we heard about their plans,” said a young man close by. “They all got taken, too.”
Maybe that helped, if it kept Clark’s men from getting suspicious, Lauren thought, though she didn’t want to voice that. Some of their fellow Eagleton citizens were being held prisoner. That was now clear. But she had found and freed a lot of them. That was a major victory. Now it was time to make plans for one more.
Karen pushed the front door of the fishing shop open. The interior was still. No men came out to attack her. The light that streamed through the nearby windows made hiding almost impossible. Only the area behind the cashier’s counter seemed to hold a possible ambush.
Carefully, she peered around the counter’s edges. Nothing but an empty space. She walked along the walls, casting occasional glances in other directions. She vowed she would not be caught off guard, especially not on this mission. She reached the door to the back of the shop. She opened it, revealing a storeroom. A wave of body odor and stink assaulted her. A diseased patient was in here. She didn’t have to see him to know it.
In her mind, she replayed the first few bits of her violation, when Durand had dragged her inside the tent in Volhein’s camp and violently stripped her. His face filled her vision. That was the man lying on the bed in front of her. Her finger tightened. The slightest bit of pressure could send a bullet right between his eyes and pierce his skull. She wanted to do it. She had vowed to do it.
So why wasn’t he dead already?
The truth was that Durand was not the same man from her nightmares. He was stick-thin, the round jowls of his face reduced to skin hanging off jaw bones. His skin was pale, and he stank. He was likely lying in his own body waste and no one had bothered to come clean him up. A plate of leftover grits and chopped-up eggs lay on the table near an old, ragged Bible. Flies and gnats buzzed around the plate. Some even orbited Durand’s face.
The sight was too pathetic. Karen’s rapist had been reduced to a half-dead invalid who probably wasn’t even lucid any longer. She lowered her weapon.
But so what? A voice within Karen’s soul spoke up with indignation. Hasn’t he got what he deserved? Why don’t you just finish off the bastard already? He’s got one foot in the grave right now!
Karen raised her gun again. Her trigger finger twitched.
Lauren poked her head through the door. “Karen?”
Her friend was standing there, as still as a statue. The whole scene was like one from a painting. Durand was lying in the bed, deathly inert. Slowly, Lauren approached. Karen’s expression was locked in place. She was just looking at Durand, her lips parted, her eyes half-open. Durand’s eyes were also open, yet there was no sparkle behind them.. The man must have just expired.
“Hey.” Lauren whispered into Karen’s right ear. “Are you okay?”
The doctor then noticed Karen was holding her gun, but it was pointed to the floor. Lauren sniffed the air. No smoke. No sign that she had discharged her pistol.
“He was almost dead,” Karen said very quietly, as if in a trance.
“I thought he was looking at me. Then he said something. I think it was German, God knows what it was. Then I realized he was looking somewhere else but I don’t know where. And then I saw him smile. It was just a moment.” The young lady swallowed. “And then he was gone.”
Lauren nodded. “I’ve seen that before. When someone is just about to die, they have that look in their eyes. You know they’re not looking at anything in this world. They’re looking beyond to some place we can’t see. Most times, they see somebody else, a loved one who’s already died.”
Karen shook a little. “I wanted to shoot him. Dammit, I wanted to blast a hole in his face. But then I felt as though God was right there in the room and I almost fell backward onto the floor.” She let out a sob. “What am I supposed to do? Forgive him? Is that what God wanted?”
Lauren glanced briefly at the Bible on the table. “He will render to every man according to his deeds,” she paraphrased.
“Last book of the Bible.” She pulled some hair away from Karen’s face. “I think the message is not to worry about dishing out revenge. God will sort out who gets what.”
Then she pulled Karen closer. Her friend dropped the gun. It made a soft thud on the wooden floor.
Chapter Ten
There was no mistaking it. That was a speed limit sign just up ahead. As Tom and Cheryl got closer, they could make out the bent upper right-hand corner on it. The line of wooden power poles was another welcome sign. They were getting very close to Eagleton. Each sign of the town’s closing proximity filled them with fresh energy. They probably should have rested once or twice by now, but the possibility of getting home very soon wouldn’t let them rest.
“So, you think there’ll be anybody waiting for us?” Tom asked.
“You think they have somebody with binoculars waiting for us?” Cheryl laughed. “Posted on regular watch duty waiting with baited breath for the Crivers to come home?”
Tom put a little swagger in his step. “Hey, we’re the hometown heroes. I’d expect them to send out search parties if we didn’t come home in two weeks.”
“Oh God.” Cheryl laughed.
“Hey!” Even more joy filled Tom’s voice. “Over there!”
A white house sat off the road. When Tom and Cheryl first had come to Eagleton, they initially passed up a line of houses that had suffered fire damage. But in the time since, those houses had been gutted and repaired. The siding may have been different, but Tom Criver definitely recalled how the roof and chimney looked, and they were still the same. Suddenly, Cheryl’s walk turned to a jog.
“Hey!” Tom started running to catch up to her. “C’mon, you can’t run with all that stuff on your back!”
“Fine!” Cheryl unbuckled the straps and flung the pack off into the grass. Freed of her load, the former soldier dashed a lot faster.
“Cheryl!” Tom almost stopped to retrieve the pack. “What are you doing?”
“I’ll get it later!” she shouted back, “I want to see my babies!”
She’s crazy, Tom thought. But her excitement was infectious. Didn’t he want to get back to Eagleton as quick as he could as well? Hell, yeah!
He unbuckled his own pack and tossed it away. “Here I come!”
Cheryl ran even faster. “Last one to Eagleton has to do fifty pushups!”
Tom and Cheryl soon passed up the house. Another of the rebuilt homes came into view. Then another.
However, euphoria couldn’t keep them going forever. Fatigue soon gripped their bodies, demanding that they stop to rest. Exhaustion finally had its way as both of them fell chest-first into the lush grass of a house’s front lawn.
Cheryl had landed a few inches ahead of her husband. “I win,” she said through heavy breathing.
Tom propped himself up. “I lost a race to a woman who was near death a few days ago. I think I’m getting old.”
Before Cheryl could retort, the sound of shoes crunching on grass cut through the air. Tom and Cheryl turned to the house to their right. A man, likely in his thirties, was strolling up to them. Tom recognized his face from the meeting where the exile formally was adopted by the town, but he had forgotten the man’s name.
“Thomas Criver?” he asked.
Tom scrambled to
his feet. “The one and only. I hope you don’t have a ‘keep off my grass’ policy.”
“We never met, but I saw you in several town meetings, and I think you’re friends with Lee. I’m Donald Valentino.” Then he turned to Cheryl. “Cheryl, right?” Valentino flashed a suspicious look at Tom. “You do know she’s an exile?”
“She’s well. She beat the disease. She can go home,” Tom said quickly, “There’s nothing to worry about. Get a doctor to check her out. Lauren Whittaker, if you can.”
“Don’t worry, we got our spotters. We knew exiles would be coming back, so we appointed people, ‘spotters,’ that’ll check you out before you come in. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like you just to wait in the lot over there while I go grab somebody—Hey, where’s your packs? You didn’t just go out there without survival gear?”
Tom and Cheryl looked at each other. “Long story,” Cheryl said.
“Tom!” As soon as Lee Issacson caught sight of Tom and Cheryl in the lot with Valentino and the ‘spotter,’ he ran the rest of the way down the sidewalk.
Valentino got in his way, stopping him abruptly. “Easy, Lee! We haven’t finished checking them.”
“I think they’re fine.” The spotter, a middle-aged balding man, stood up, then stepped away from Tom and Cheryl.
“Tom’s got no sign of the disease. Cheryl’s rashes are mostly gone. No signs of fever or dizziness.” He held up two syringes. “Blood checks out. There’s no reason they can’t come in.”
It was the best news the Crivers could have hoped for. The pair hugged each other tightly.
Lee waited until the pair had their relief out of their system before speaking. “Thank God.” He looked at Tom with a mix of joy and shame. “I’m so happy for you, Tom. I know this must have been sheer hell for you, and I know I had a part in it. I hope you can forgive me.”
“Lee, I just want to see my kids again.”
“They are fine. I always kept tabs on them for you. It was the least I could do.”
Tom approached. “Thanks.”
Lee just looked at him. He then leaned in and hugged Tom. Tom patted his friend’s back.
After they parted, Lee smiled. “Well, what are we waiting for?” He turned to Valentino. “Let’s get some bikes for the Crivers. They’ll want to round up their children as soon as possible, right?”
Tom skidded his bicycle to a stop. “This time I win!” He kicked open the kickstand and propped up his bike. Cheryl came to a stop just behind him on the Eagleton library’s parking lot.
“You still are not getting out of the fifty pushups!” Cheryl rushed in Tom’s direction, but Tom was already nearly at the front door.
But then he stopped. No, for this bunch Cheryl should go first. He let Cheryl reach the door before him. She gently knocked on the glass. Being a library, the front door might be open, but she didn’t want just to walk in unannounced. A dark-skinned girl in a jumper approached the door. When she saw who it was, her eyes widened.
“Mommy!” She jumped up and down. “You’re here! You’re here!”
Cheryl couldn’t take it. She flung the door open and barreled for Jackie. The girl jumped in her mother’s arms. “My baby!”
“Mom!” That voice came from a dirty blonde-haired girl who already was springing out from between the bookshelves. Alice, their oldest girl, ran so fast she nearly tripped.
“Alice, my Alice!” Cheryl raised her right arm and took Alice by the shoulders.
The excitement drew two more girls, a tall girl in a pink shirt and jeans, and a shorter girl in a blue dress about Jackie’s height. Cheryl quickly collected Annie and Kristin and held them all. Tom waited his turn. He’d get the hugs soon enough, but the four girls needed to reconnect with their mother, and their mother needed to do the same with her daughters.
“I love you all so much.” A weeping Cheryl kissed each and every one of them. “I want to hear all about what you’ve been up to, everything.”
“You’re well? You’re all better?” Kristin asked.
“All better and I just want to squeeze you so much,” Cheryl replied, “Your card did it. Your card got me home.”
Finally, Annie and Alice broke off to give Tom hugs. As they did, Catherine Rossi, the librarian and the girls’ temporary guardian stepped into view from a back shelf. She smiled, a tear falling from her eye.
Tom smiled. “We’re back,” he said as he gripped the two girls by their upper backs.
“Watch it!” Rinaldo cried as the football nearly hit his head. “You’re supposed to throw it at my hands, not my head!”
Dominick ran to the ball. “You’re supposed to catch it!”
Rinaldo, Dominick, Terry, Charlie, and Fred were playing a game of football with Rio and Juan, the sons of Ricardo Castillo, Tom’s friend. However, Rinaldo had fumbled a few catches, to Dominick’s annoyance.
“Easy man,” Fred said as he passed by Dominick. “You know Rinaldo kind of sucks at this.”
“Thanks.” Rinaldo frowned.
“Then why don’t you have an expert show you?”
All seven boys turned their heads to the backyard fence. Tom was leaning on it from the other side, his head peering over. “Well?” he asked with a smile.
Amir handed Irvin the piece of paper. “This would be great. Grilled chicken with white beans and a pita!”
Irvin looked at the page. “This is Greek food?”
“I ate it back in Syria. There was a Greek restaurant there. I loved going there and eating and watching television. They played sports games on the screens there.”
Amir, Irvin, Sam and Michael were seated at a table inside a diner’s kitchen. The diner belonged to the Barks couple, Inga and Edgar, who had agreed to house the four boys. Amir just had finished telling Irvin all about a Greek plate he once had enjoyed and how it’d be a good idea to prepare a dish for Eagleton.
Irvin, a budding cook, frowned. “I don’t know how to make white beans,” he said.
“Maybe Mister Barks has a recipe,” Michael said. At the same time, Sam, who was taller than all of them, pointed to a shelf above their heads. Along with some cooking utensils, it had a stack of books.
“I don’t think Mister Barks is going to let us cook a whole chicken.” Michael scratched his head.
“But we can study, learn how to make it someday. Maybe we can ask Mr. and Mrs. Barks to do it.” Amir turned to Sam. “Could you reach up there and get some of those books down?”
The boy, a born athlete, simply said “Sure” and reached up to grab one.
Except somebody had beaten him to it.
Tom Criver, standing over four very surprised boys, cocked his head and narrowed one eye at Amir. “You’re still trying to get Irvin to cook you a Greek meal?”
Smiling, Amir got out of his chair. “You bet…Papa.”
Karen rounded the wall of the diner, leading Jamie Cooper with her. Kovacs was leaning on a shovel. The blade was sunk into the ground. Two large mounds lay nearby. Sweat dripped down the sides of the man’s head.
Kovacs did not turn his head or acknowledge their presence except to speak. “I just finished burying Durand. Vogel, we found him in the woods. He was shot, but he must have made it back here before he died. They had not bothered to bury him. They just dumped him like trash. They had done the same for a few others who died of the disease.”
“These men have no sense of honor or dignity,” Cooper said.
“We were tools in their hands, nothing more.” Finally, Kovacs lifted himself off the shovel and turned to Karen. “Perhaps you think we deserve such a fate, don’t you?”
Karen stiffened her expression, not ready to betray any softening of her stance toward these men, at least not yet. “A few days ago, yeah, for sure. Right now, I don’t know what you deserve.”
“For what it’s worth, Durand was a bit of a bastard. I was too, but less. Vogel was the better of us.” Kovacs glanced back at the graves. “I wonder who will bury me? I imagine, when I finally die, I
will be all alone by then.”
The soldier then turned and laughed. The spectacle was enough to make Karen feel a little sad. “Why’d you come back?” she asked, “You don’t sound like you like Durand very much. Was it really to come back for him? Was it so you could kill some of Clark’s men? What was the deal?”
Kovacs pulled out the shovel and held it over his shoulder. His knees were slightly bent. Clearly, he would need some rest. “I ran away from a fight. I left Vogel. Cowardice is the worst thing for a soldier.” He didn’t look at Karen or Cooper.
“I thought perhaps I would come back to die in battle like I should have.” He then craned his head slightly to allow his right eye to be seen. “Although revenge against Clark’s men wasn’t bad, either.”
Karen was beginning to wonder how much revenge factored into Kovacs’s or Stark’s decision to come back to the camp. Perhaps redemption was the greater motivator. He took a few steps toward Karen, but stopped about a foot away.
“I am sorry for what we did to you, and for what we did to your town.” And then he turned and walked away.
Karen never would have expected to hear that coming from one of Volhein’s men. It was enough to rattle her, but not to fully shatter her shell of resentment toward him and the rest of the surviving NATO soldiers such as Stark.
“Jamie?” she softly asked, “Is it that terrible if I can’t forgive him?”
“You can’t forgive him now.” Cooper reached his hands around Karen’s waist. “But later, when you’ve sorted things out, I have a feeling that you will.”
Karen stared at the two graves. “Thanks,” she said softly.
Pacing past the crowd of people standing around the diner or seated in the dirt nearby, Lauren had reason to smile for the first time in a long while. “Fourteen, count them, fourteen patients who are just about recovered.” She gestured to the crowd, which numbered about twice that many, as quite a few health family members of the sick citizens had elected to accompany them into exile.
