Stealing Second (The Amendments Book One 1)

by Nicholas Antinozzi

  “Sounds perfect,” said Bob. He dropped his pack and picked up his rifle. “You can never be too careful,” he said. He then walked out the door and lit up a cigarette. I thought about what he said and reached inside my own pack and found the revolver. I stuck it down the front of my jeans and covered the butt with my t-shirt. Bob was right, I thought. This was no time for us to let our guard down.

  I stepped outside just as Dad and two other men rounded the corner at the end of the driveway and started walking our way. “There’s Dad,” I said. “Those guys must belong to the resistance. We’d better get this stuff buried.”

  “I’ll take care of this,” said Bob, turning to face the barn. “You say the pigpen is behind the barn?”

  I pointed to the distant barn, which sat about two hundred yards from the house. “You can’t miss it,” I said. “Just follow your nose. Try to dig as deep as you can and cover it up good. You know what I mean.”

  “Don’t worry, Gary. I’ll bury it so deep that it’ll never be found. You’re going to have to tell your family about your decision. They’re probably not going to like it, but I think they’ll understand. We need you, man. We’ve got to fight.”

  I nodded my head. “The old man will understand,” I said. “I don’t know about anyone else. I’m worried about Violet. I promised her and her mom that I’d look after her.”

  Bob smiled, sadly. “You’re leaving her in good hands. You can’t think about that. We all left something behind. Those are the people we’re fighting to protect.”

  I nodded again as Bob turned and set out for the barn. I walked up the driveway to meet my dad and the other two men. Inwardly, I wondered how I would put this to the old man. I prayed he would understand.

  They stood under one of the stately maple trees that had lined our driveway for as long as I could remember. The leaves were bright green in the morning sun. “This is my son Gary,” said Dad, as I covered the final steps to greet them. “Gary, this is Simon and Lumpy.

  I reached out my hand and shook the middle-aged man’s hand. He looked as straight-laced as a high school principal and might have been an usher in Dad’s church. He was tall and lean and wore his sandy hair cut short. “Simon,” I said. “I’m glad to meet ya.”

  “Gary,” he said. “Your dad has told us all about your trip from Milaca. “Do you have any idea what a miracle it was that you made it here?”

  I shrugged and smiled. I then took the other man’s hand, he was younger and like me, he was overweight. “Lumpy,” I said. “That’s an unusual name.

  The man named Lumpy shook my hand and grinned. “That’s just a nickname. Don’t worry, everybody calls me that. He had longish black hair and a gapped-tooth smile. I immediately liked him. Lumpy reminded me of a friend of mine in high school, who had been killed the summer after our senior year in a terrible car crash.

  “Bob must be burying his uniform,” Dad said, nodding towards the barn.

  I nodded my head. “Dad,” I said, after releasing Lumpy’s meaty hand. “I’ve got to tell you something. I want to go with them. I want to do whatever I can to help fight.”

  My dad looked at me without expression and nodded his head. His eyes grew misty. “I had a feeling you were going to say that,” he said. “I’m proud of you, son. Have you said anything to your mother?”

  I shook my head. “Not yet.”

  “Well, we best get inside and tell her. She’s going to throw a fit, but she’ll understand. We’ll look after the girl. You won’t have to worry about her.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “No, thank you,” said Simon. “We can use all the help we can get. I’m warning you, we’ve got our backs against the wall. This isn’t something you do without giving it some serious thought. You could get killed. You saw what they’re doing to captured fighters?”

  “We did,” I said. “They hang them from the trees. I think it’s time we gave them a taste of their own medicine.”

  “We already have,” said Lumpy.

  “Not enough,” I said. “We can’t stop until we’ve won the war.”

  “That’s the spirit,” said Simon. He then turned to my father. “Did I hear you mention something about pancakes?”

  “Best damn pancakes you men have ever tasted,” Dad said. He then smiled and began to walk.

  Someone had put Gunner and Thor on their chains and they barked excitedly as we approached the house. The sun was just topping the trees in the east and the sky was a purplish shade of blue. A spattering of single gunshots, close enough to make me jump, echoed across the field. They were answered by the chattering of machine gun fire. The air was eerily silent as we walked up onto the porch and into the house.

  Violet met us at the door. “Bob must have dropped this,” she said, handing me Bob’s military-issue olive green undershirt.

  “Get it out of my house,” said Dad. “We can’t risk someone finding it in here. Gary, run it out there to him. Dig another hole if you have to.”

  “Yes sir,” I said. I took the shirt from Violet. “Thanks,” I said. “Make sure these guys don’t eat all the pancakes. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “I will,” she said, seriously.

  “Don’t worry,” called Mom from the stove. “I’ve got enough here to feed an army.”

  The men laughed at that and Simon nodded to the door. His gesture told me that he was the leader of the outfit and that after we left the house, that I’d be taking my orders from him. I wondered how he and Bob would get along as I walked out the door.

  I took my time walking out to the barn. I had made the walk countless times, but never with such a heaviness weighing on my heart. I kicked at the gravel and wondered if my dad was telling Mom about my plans. A part of me whished it were so, but another part wanted to deliver the news in person. I felt torn and confused. I could be dead before the sun set, strung up in an oak tree with a rope around my neck. I shuddered at the thought. Still, I understood that it was a risk I was happy to take. My family, Violet, this farm, even Gunner and Thor, all were things I would gladly give my life to protect.

  The old white barn with the black trim was one of the finest and well-preserved in the county. I stepped inside and instantly felt a longing for the days of my youth. I had always loved this place and had experienced many things here for the first time. The animals were already out in the pastures, but their scent lingered, mixed in with the damp silage and the unmistakable musty smell that resides inside all barns. The barn welcomed me home in a way that only certain places can.

  At that moment, I decided that if I survived the days to come, I would pack my things and move back home. Mom and Dad were getting on in years and I know they dreamed of the day I would return. Dad needed the help and Mom wanted nothing more than my company and the chance to take care of me once again.

  I lazily wandered to the back door, absorbing the moment, past the empty hog pens and toward the small door at the end of the barn. Bob had left it partially open and I chuckled at this. The old man had a rule about open doors in the barn. Newcomer or not, he would have read Bob the riot act about leaving that door open. The door led straight to the pasture and if the cows spotted it, they would make a break for greener pastures. I had seen it happen on more than one occasion.

  For some odd reason, I paused at the door and peered outside. I spotted Bob, roughly twenty yards out in the pasture, not in the rail-fenced area of the pigpen. I was just about to say something when I noticed that he had changed back into his uniform. He had his back to me, but I could see that he was talking into a cell phone.

  Before I could process this, I heard the roaring of heavy vehicles heading down our driveway. I ran back to the big door and nearly screamed as I saw dozens of soldiers leaping from the back of giant camouflaged trucks. They were running straight for the house. Bob had turned us in.

  I wrestled the revolver out of my jeans just as I heard the first gunshots explode inside the house. Tears streamed down my cheeks. Furiousl
y, I twisted around and faced the back door. Bob stood there with his rifle trained on me. I raised the revolver, saw a flash of light and felt a blinding pain in my head. And then the world went black.

  Chapter 9

  I wouldn’t open my eyes again until the sun was setting in the western sky. I held my hand to my head, but Violet quickly jerked it away. “Don’t touch it,” she ordered. A sad smile stretched across her face. “I thought you were dead. I thought I was all alone.”

  I was lying where I’d fallen, stretched out on my back. Someone had placed a pillow under my aching head and wrapped a bandage around my wound. “Mom and Dad?” I croaked.

  Violet’s eyes instantly filled with tears and she shook her head. “They’re all gone,” she moaned. “I was up in the bathroom and I hid inside the closet. I’m sorry, Gary. You can’t look up in the trees. You just can’t. I’m so sorry.”

  Rage flashed inside my head, so pure and unbridled that it immediately propelled me to my feet. I staggered toward the big door.

  “Gary,” cried Violet. “Please, don’t go out there!”

  With images of my family hanging in the trees, I forced myself into a jog. I would cut them down if it was the last thing I ever did. The sun was already setting in the west and vaguely I realized that I had been unconscious all day, at least that long. I felt weak and my stomach felt empty. My head screamed with pain as I ran and my vision blurred. I thought of Bob, the traitor, thought of how I would find him and how I might seek my revenge. I loped up toward the house, half crazed, tears raining down my cheeks. Up ahead, I could see human shapes hanging from the limbs of the maple trees. “No,” I moaned. “No!”

  With Violet trailing behind me, pleading for me to get back to the barn, I continued to run. I passed the house and saw Gunner and Thor, their thick coats red with blood, lying lifeless on their sides. “No,” I cried. “This can’t be happening. Dear God, this can’t be happening!”

  “Don’t,” moaned Violet. “I can’t afford to lose you, Gary. Please…”

  And then I saw the blood on the edge of the driveway. Great stains in the sugar-sand that trailed off into the grass. Finally, I forced myself to look up into the trees. I held both hands over my mouth as I gazed upon three dead men that hung by their necks. They were bound hand and foot with gray tape. Simon and Lumpy hung together from a single tree, six feet off the ground. Simon’s eyes were closed and his face was composed, as if he had accepted his fate. Lumpy’s eyes were open wide and his mouth hung open. He looked as if he had died a horrible death and my heart ached at the sight of him.

  The other body was longer than the others and his back was turned to me. I jogged up to the man’s body and looked up to see Duke hanging there. He looked terribly sad, as if he had been telling his killers that they were making a huge mistake. His neck was hideously stretched and I quickly looked away. I stared off into the other maple trees, but I could see no more bodies.

  “Where are the others?” I screamed at Violet. “Where is the rest of my family?”

  “They said they were taking them to a camp,” she cried. “I don’t know, but I did hear the men tell them that. I don’t know where the camp is; honest, I don’t. The soldiers got into a fight out here. Somebody was shooting at them.”

  I stared back at the dried blood and I wondered about that. If what Violet was saying were true, it would explain why Bob had left me for dead. They must have suffered some casualties and left in a hurry. “What about the house?” I asked. “This is important, kid. You’ve got to pull yourself together. Did they leave anyone else in the house?”

  “No,” moaned Violet, “the house is empty.”

  I turned away from her. I felt guilty about pushing her like that, but I had to know. I left Duke hanging in the tree and staggered to the house. I saw no blood on the white steps or porch, which I took for a good sign. I opened the screen door and peered inside. “Mom… Dad,” I called, “is anybody home?”

  “Gary,” whispered Violet. “Why won’t you listen to me?”

  I waved her off and plowed inside. The house was absolutely silent. A hint of jasmine hung in the air. I began to search from room to room, calling out for people that I knew were no longer there. I searched the pantry and closets. I walked through each of the bedrooms and I even walked down into the cellar. The house was empty. I walked back up the stairs and I sat down in my father’s recliner.

  And then I wept.

  Violet sat across from me on the sofa, head bowed, her tiny hands folded in her lap. After a minute I called for her. Obediently, she rose from the sofa and she walked over to stand next to me. I buried my head in her small shoulder and wrapped my arms around her. “It’s all my fault,” I moaned. “Duke would still be alive if I hadn’t trusted that rotten bastard. God forgive me. I’m so sorry. Oh Violet, I’m so sorry…”

  We remained like that until I was able to think clearly and put a lid on my emotions. There would be plenty of time for crying, but I knew that this wasn’t one of them. I stood up and went into the bathroom to check my wound. Violet followed and she advised me not to remove the bandage. “I’ve already changed it, twice,” she said. “And I disinfected it with rubbing alcohol. I don’t think you should have to worry about infection. I really dumped it on there. You woke up just as I finished putting on the new bandage.”

  I found a bottle of aspirin in the medicine cabinet and swallowed two of them and stuffed the bottle into my pocket. I stared at my misshapen head in the bathroom mirror. The bullet must have grazed the side of my skull, which was a minor miracle in itself. There was a small spot of blood on my bandage, one of Mom’s hand towels she used for drying dishes, and it looked as if Violet had done an excellent job of applying it. “Thanks,” I said. “You probably saved my life. I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “You can thank me by getting us back down to the barn,” she whispered. “I don’t like it in here. I don’t think it’s safe.”

  I stared at her for a long moment. She was talking about the home I had grown up in; the one place on this earth where I had always felt safe. Sadly, that was no longer true. Violet was right. If the soldiers returned, we would be caught like rats in a trap. And in all likelihood, I would soon be hanging next to Duke. “Okay,” I said. “We should move it. Do you think we’ll be safe out in the barn?”

  Violet shook her head. “We should get as far away from here as we can. Maybe we could go to Canada?”

  “Maybe we should,” I said, only half-jokingly.

  “I’ve been gathering supplies all afternoon,” she said. “I don’t think I have everything, but I did grab quite a bit. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been running them out to the shed. I didn’t want you to think I was trying to steal anything.”

  I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Oh sweetie, I would never think such a thing about you. That was good thinking. I’m proud of you; that was really using your head. I know a place not too far from here where we can spend the night. I think it’d be better if we waited until dark; that shouldn’t be very long.”

  Violet nodded and for the first time since I’d regained consciousness, she smiled. “Thank you,” she said.

  “No, thank you,” I replied. “Follow me, let’s get out there and see what we have.”

  Outside, darkness was beginning to fall. I thought about cutting down the bodies, but that might give us away and I decided not to risk it. My anger was rekindled at the sight of them. Violet must have sensed that, she took me by the hand and we hurried down to the shed. Spread out across the floor, Violet had arranged our supplies as if they were in a department store window—labels out, evenly spaced. The sight of them brought a smile to my face. She had been a busy girl while I was unconscious.

  “I hope you don’t think I was snooping,” she said, meekly. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

  I placed my hand on her skinny shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I know you weren’t snooping,” I said. “You did exactly what my mom and
dad would have wanted you to do. We have to get out of here and we’re going to need supplies if we have any hope of finding them.”

  “What do you mean?”

  That was when I realized what I planned to do. I had to find and rescue my family. I didn’t care what the odds were against me. The thought hit me so hard that it nearly took my breath away. “I have to find my family,” I said. “I can’t leave them to die in some concentration camp. I won’t do it. My dad would die trying to rescue me, I know he would. I owe it to them.”

  Violet considered that for a moment. She stared up into my eyes, set her jaw and nodded her head. “You’re right,” she said. “My grandma would do everything she could to rescue me. I’m with you, Gary. We’ll find them, you’ll see.”

  I smiled at her, trying to hide how disturbed I was that she had compared her grandma to my dad, and not her own mother. She looked so small at that moment. I was all that stood between her and the ugliness that invaded our world. The moment passed and I sat down in front of our supplies. She had obviously given a lot of thought as to what we would need. The problem was that there was just too much of it. She must have sensed that.

  “I thought it was better to have too much to choose from,” she said. “I know we can’t take it all.”

  We spent the next fifteen minutes sifting through our supplies and stowing them away. Violet had found my high school backpack. It was roomy and still in fair condition. Carrying the duffel bag was cumbersome and we would be glad to be shed of it. Twilight arrived and was slowly overtaken by darkness. I switched on an electric lantern and adjusted it to its lowest setting. Yellow light spilled to the hay-sprinkled floor. The evening was warm and bursts of gunfire occasionally interrupted the crickets.

  “Years ago, Dad helped Cheryl and me build a playhouse,” I said. “She lost interest in it when we were teenagers, so I took it over. It’s not too far from here, but it’s in the woods and I think we’ll be safe to spend the night out there. I’m warning you, I haven’t been out there in a few years. As far as I know, a tree might have fallen on top of it. We’ll find out when we get there.”