Through it all he longed to somehow escape this house that now felt like a prison. He found he made a deal with the devil, and payment would be shortly due.
Over the weeks he also found himself getting closer to the only other boy in this bloody band.
Since the raid, Nicky and Rob hardly talked, you could see the distance between them, and James seemed to fill a hole left inside the boy. Sometimes at night after the work was done, they would find themselves alone on the porch, talking until bed time.
Rob now seemed more distant and the camaraderie between the group suffered without his constant attention. Despite their good fortune, morale was down, that no one could deny.
Alton was often gone on some private mission and never seemed to have time for his boss.
Early one morning right after breakfast, Robert approached James at the kitchen table, Cornwell, D’Cruz, and Martinelli were around him, all of them talking and joking. Rob walked up, a battered old BB rifle in his hand. That time had finally come, that time James had eluded for so very long.
“James, come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“Out in the back field, it’s time we started teaching you to shoot.”
“I don’t want to.”
“What did you say to me?”
“I said I don’t want to learn to shoot a gun. I don’t need a gun.” It was the first time the boy ever talked back to his former best friend.
“I don’t care what you want.” Rob grabbed the boy by his arm, pulled him out of the crowd and dragged him through the back door and out into the yard. “I can’t believe you could be so disrespectful to me ... talking to me like that, in front of all of them, after all I’ve done for you.”
“I’m sorry, I am grateful for what you’ve done. I just don’t want to learn about guns.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to.”
“I said why not?”
“I just don’t.”
“Why not, James? Come on, tell me, why not?”
At last the boy found a little bit of his backbone. “I don’t want to ... I don’t want to be a killer like you.”
“You don’t want to be a killer like me. You don’t want to kill.”
“No.”
“But you don’t mind if others kill for you, right?”
“What?”
“Take a look around you, all that you have here, a warm house, food to eat three times a day, enough water to drink ... and even bathe. You have it because we killed those people and took it from them. You don’t like to think about that, do you?”
“No.”
“But you don’t seem to care about enjoying the fruits of other people’s labor.”
The boy couldn’t take his eyes off his feet, or offer a word.
“You will learn how to shoot. You will learn to kill. No one told you to like it, but you will learn to do it. You don’t miraculously get to keep your hands clean while the rest of us wallow in the mud for you. You’re going to start earning your keep around here.”
“What about our oath? I thought we weren’t supposed to hurt others?”
“That’s right, if they don’t try to hurt us. But the truth is most of the time people are not going to give us a choice. Sooner or later, James, whether you like it or not, you’re going to have to kill.”
“No ... no I don’t.”
“This isn’t even about the oath you took. I know what your real problem is. I’ve known it since that day we went on highway patrol.” He dropped the rifle right at the boy’s feet. “Well, you can forget about the shooting lessons. We won’t have to worry about them until we fix your more urgent problem.”
“What problem are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about that conscience of yours. It keeps you up at night, it makes you a liability to all of us.”
“I’m not a liability.”
“You most certainly are. You think you’re doing your fair share because you help wash the dishes and clothes ... or boil some water? Anybody could do that. I could drag some mental deficient off the closest highway and he could do that, and he’d probably be less trouble too. What I need are soldiers. We’ll be out of food soon enough and then we’ll be scavenging again, and when we do I won’t need dishwashers, I’ll need men that can kill. More than that, I need men that can kill and still sleep at night. I’m not sure you’re up to that, or ever will be.”
“I’m not like you.”
“You are nothing like me ... but I used to be like you. My parents were just like yours, they dragged me to church every Sunday, pounded all that junk into my head every week. At first I was just like you, I felt bad when I broke their rules. But after a while I saw through their lies, through the hypocrisy of it all. All the rules they tried to make you follow ... but didn’t apply to them. When I finally realized there was no ‘good’ or ‘bad,’ but only what you could get away with, then I was truly free. Once I grasped that, I could never be like your kind again.”
“My kind? Just because I think killing is wrong. So you think killing is not wrong? God thinks it is.”
“Really? You must’ve not studied your Bible very long. You must have never looked at the Old Testament at all, or else you would know your God sent his people out to slaughter their enemies over and over again. You must not think killing is so wrong either. I’ve noticed you’ve never missed a meal since we’ve been here.”
The boy was flush, so angry he couldn’t speak.
Rob stopped, like there was nothing more to say on the subject. He let himself calm down and spoke again in that reasonable voice James was growing to dread.
“Okay, James, I can see we’re never going to agree on this. I can see now I’ll never make you into a man no matter how hard I try. I like you. I wanted to toughen you up, so you could survive out there in the world. But now I can see it’s never going to happen.”
“You don’t have to kill to be a man.”
Rob went on in that voice, “Some of the guys were complaining about you the other day.”
“About me?”
“Yes, they were saying ... well, basically what we were just talking about, that you weren’t doing your fair share, that they were carrying you. They suggested another way you might earn your keep.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The guys figured out, even before me, that we would never make you into a soldier. They had another job for you to do. I didn’t mention it before. I thought they were wrong about training you, and I was sure you wouldn’t want the job. But now I can see it’s probably the only way you’ll get to stick around ... and you need to stick around, James; you can’t survive out there on your own.”
“I still don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, what job?”
“Some of the guys ... they thought since you weren’t up to being a soldier you could stay at camp all the time. You could cook the meals, boil the water, do the dishes, stuff like that.”
“Oh ...”
“But you would also be required to service the men when they wanted it.”
“Service them?”
“Yeah ... do you understand what I’m saying? Do you know what I mean when I say service? Do I have to say it, James?”
James stared at Rob until finally the ugly meaning of the word started screaming in his mind. “No!”
“It’s okay, James, they’re not going to make you. I only thought ... well, if you wanted to.”
“NO ... NO!”
He rushed past Robert and ran into the field beyond, and kept running until he just couldn’t breathe any more. He dropped to the ground lost, confused, and exhausted, not knowing where he was, what he should do, or where he should go. After sitting under a tree most of the day thinking about his situation, he eventually admitted there was only one place he could go.
He returned just after sunset, Nicky was on the front steps in his normal spot. Martinelli and Rudd were pulling sentry duty; t
he rest of the crew was inside playing cards and sounding wild tonight.
James sat down on the stoop a few steps up from his little brother, who was pondering the stars above.
“James, do you know about God?”
“I don’t know ... maybe a little. Why?”
“I heard Rob talking about you. He said your problem was religion.”
“I don’t know, maybe it is. What do you want to know?”
“Since I ... killed that lady, I keep seeing her face all the time. That look on her face, she looked surprised ... like she couldn’t believe I killed her.”
James slid down right behind him and wrapped both arms around the tormented child, holding on tight. “What are you asking, Nicky?”
“Am I ... Am I going to hell, James, for what I’ve done?”
“I don’t know, Nicky. I think that maybe we’re already there.”
Chapter Six
The rest of the night James avoided Robert, not wanting to talk about his job offer. He waited until Rob was asleep before creeping across the front room and into his own bed, like he would be able to sleep much that night. Very early in the morning, they were all awakened by a shrill whistle coming from outside.
Rudd came through the front door nearly taking it off its hinges. “Everybody up! We’ve got intruders!”
Instantly Rob was on his feet and in charge, “Everybody get to your defensive positions! RIGHT NOW!”
It was complete chaos as six men and two boys were all scrambling for their clothes, boots, and guns. Rob tried to question Rudd over the uproar, “What happened?! Did you see someone?! Where’s Martinelli?!”
“One of our flares has been tripped, in that brush south of us. Martinelli is in the southwest spider hole.”
Abruptly they heard the loud report of Martinelli’s Remington rifle, and off in the distance a full burst of automatic gunfire coming from south of the house. In only a moment more gunfire could be heard, this time coming not only from the south again, but east and northeast. By this time their training set in and everyone was where they were supposed to be.
Rob was watching from under the reinforced front window interrogating Martinelli by radio. “Martinelli, what do you see?”
“Nothing, Boss, not since the initial exchange.”
“What can you tell me?”
“I think there were four, possibly five trying to approach from that undergrowth just south of us. I never even saw where the other shots were coming from.”
“What were you shooting at? Did you hit anything?”
“I took a shot, but no, I don’t think I hit a thing.”
“Okay, Martinelli, keep your eyes open.” Rob switched to McCain who was now holding position on the north side. “McCain, are you seeing anything your way?”
“No, not a thing. Alton is coming your way. Don’t shoot him.”
No sooner than McCain had said it Alton came bounding through the back door, he approached the front room keeping his head down low and addressing his boss, crouching in the window. “Whoever they are, I think they’ve backed off. I went out a little from the house and there’s no sign of them now.”
Despite the situation, Rob seemed amused, “They must scare pretty easy, Martinelli only got off one shot.”
“Maybe they scare easy, or ...”
“Or what?”
“Maybe they were just trying out our defenses, seeing how we would react, what we would do. It’s good tactics; they only have to waste a few mags of ammunition and they get paid with a lot of good intel on their intended target. If you recall, we’ve done similar things ourselves.”
“Yeah, you reminded me of the time we made those roadies cross that farm couple’s field, just to see what would happen.”
“Exactly, without expending much effort and no ammo we got a very good idea about their defenses.”
“Okay, what’s your recommendation?”
“Well, we’ve got no choice but to prepare for an immediate attack. I don’t think it’s coming, but what else can we do?”
“Yeah, I see what you mean. Everyone is already in their assigned positions. I guess we’ll have to leave them there, at least till daylight.”
“Yep ... that’s how I see it too.”
It was only a few hours until daylight, but by then it had been a long day. While everyone else continued to guard their home, Alton and Cornwell went out on patrol, making a wide loop around the entire property. Shortly after the lunch hour they returned.
Alton had nothing good to report. “Whoever they were they’re gone now. But they’ll be back.”
That was the news Robert didn’t want to hear and it showed. “What makes you think so?”
“It’s like what we were talking about before I left. I think they set off the alarm on purpose ... to see what would happen.”
“Are you guessing or do you have any proof?”
“Some of our best traps have been taken. The shotgun, all the rest of our flares, the blank firing one, if they had set off that first one by accident I don’t think they would have time to take the rest. I think that flare was set off on purpose for just the reason we were saying, to get a good idea about our defenses.”
Rob was in a place he never was before. “This feels weird. I’m used to being the one on the attack, not defending. What do you think will be their next move?”
“Well, assuming they were watching close, they know we have limited manpower, and they know we’ll have to use all of it to guard from attack. If it were me I would wait all night and hit just before dawn. When we’re tired and our senses are dulled. If I had enough men, I would attack from three directions, from that line of trees to the south, from over that small hill southeast of us, and from the other line of trees to the west. I would sneak in as close as I could and send one group in for the attack, probably from the southeast. I would have them attack but then fake a retreat, see if I could pull any of your guys out. If your men fell for the bait, I would send in both my others teams to cut you off and wipe you out.”
“You have any idea how many enemy numbers we’re talking about?”
“No, not an exact count, I do know they outnumber us.”
“You’re sure?”
“Definitely, you could hear it from that first attack. They were firing off multiple guns from three distinct directions. If they don’t have at least twelve to fifteen men, I would be very surprised.”
Rob was as close to panic as anyone had ever seen him, “So, what are we going to do?”
“Well, first we’re going to have to make a very basic decision, do we defend this place or run?”
“Run? You have to be joking. We couldn’t possibly get away with more than a month’s worth of food, and then what? Even if we got away clean, we’re going to be out in the cold and starving, right as winter really gets started. Run? Think again.”
“Okay, so we’ll be defending this place. We already know the most likely locations and time for the attack. We’ll have to hold the line, though, and not fall for their tricks. I say we keep every man inside the fences except for leaving two out in the north and south observation posts. No matter what happens we stay inside where it’s safest.”
“You think it will work?”
“Maybe, there’s too many variables to prepare for every possible attack, but we’ll do what we can. I think it is safe to assume they won’t be coming midday. We should let most the guys get some sleep, if they can.”
They waited throughout the day for the attack that never came, the men trying to get some sleep if they could. When the sun went down, the guards were doubled, but still the attack did not come.
As the sun was rising again in the east, a disheartened mood settled over the house and Robert’s men. They knew the attack would be coming soon.
Just as the morning frost was gone, there came a strange sound from the south, one none of them had heard in such a long time.
Rob went to the window with Alton right behind him
. “What is that? Alton, you hear it?”
“Yes ... it’s a motor.”
“You’re right! They’ve got some kind of vehicle, that’s a diesel engine.”
Alton scanned at a distance with the binoculars, “This changes everything.”
Rob got on the radio and yelled out the front door too, “Everybody get ready, they’ll be coming soon! Hold your positions, whatever happens, hold!”
Just then the sound of the engine began racing and through the brush an old flatbed truck leaped forward. At that exact same time, the house started taking fire from several positions from the south and east.
Bullets started tearing through the house and everyone got closer to the floor, some started shooting back at the enemy still to too far to be seen.
Alton was almost in charge now, “Save your ammo, guys. Wait until you can see them. It’s not time ... yet.”
The truck was quickly approaching from the south, lightly bouncing as it made its way through the field.
D’Cruz was in the south observation post. He jumped from his hole and sprinted back towards the fence line. Martinelli crawled from his position with the key for the gate. He opened it just in time to let D’Cruz in and locked it again. Both got back into their firing positions. The truck was now nearly on top of them.
Rob yelled out, “FIRE!”
Everyone on the south side of the house poured gunfire into the truck without effect, it continued rushing forward at a breakneck pace. The truck never even slowed as it crashed right into the fence and soared over the posts. It was stopped midair, the motor still roaring, sitting on top of the flattened fence and telephone poles. The driver was dead but it didn’t matter, the truck’s purpose was now quite clear.
Joshua (Book 2): Traveler Page 9
