by Mark Goodwin
“We can’t throw them into the windows from here!” Stanley protested.
“Good guess, Stanley.” Jack lowered his brow, as if irritated by the stupid comment. “You’ll have to run up to the house and toss them in the windows. Kate will cover you.”
“I’ll go, but not Kim.” Herman’s statement was assertive.
Jack looked at the tall man, as if he were sizing up his conviction on the matter. “Fine, but you’ll have to make two runs. All six of the firebombs have to go into the windows. We can’t take a chance that they’ll be able to put out the fire. We can’t even give them time to think. They must be forced out of the house quickly so we can kill them when they vacate.”
“What about Kate? Why can’t she make a run?” Herman challenged.
“Because she’s your best chance of getting back to cover without being shot. Do you think Kim is ready to take out multiple threats in the pitch dark?”
Herman sighed. “I suppose not.”
“Okay, have the bottles lined up and pick your course. When Kate starts shooting, ignite your wicks. I should have all the teams ready in five minutes.” Jack gingerly carried the box of the remaining firebombs into the blackness of the trees.
Kate watched the house, formulating a plan of attack in her mind. She waited restlessly for Jack’s voice to give the command. The seconds crept by. “Is everyone ready?”
“The lighter is in my hand,” Herman replied.
“What’s taking so long?” Kate adjusted her arm to relieve the tension from holding the rifle.
“Commence!” Jack’s voice rang loud and clear over the radio.
Kate squeezed the trigger. She placed one round at the top left corner and one at the lower right corner of the first window. The glass collapsed and fell out. She moved the reticle of the night vision scope over the next window to the right, repeating the process. She heard rifle fire from the other teams during her transition from one window to the next. “Okay, the windows are clear. Go!”
Herman rushed toward the first window, a flaming Mason jar in one hand and his beloved Johnny Walker bottle in the other. Kate carefully watched the windows. “Stanley, what are you doing?”
“Is it safe to go now?” he asked.
“It’s getting less so by the moment. You have the element of surprise if you go now. Go!”
Stanley marched out of the ditch and picked up his pace as he stormed toward the second window. The blaze inside the window where Herman had launched his bombs became too bright and Kate had to switch off the night vision scope.
Herman wore a grin of satisfaction as he slid back into the ditch for his second sortie. “Two down, two to go.” His next pair of Molotov cocktails were lit and he was out for the next run before Stanley returned.
“I did it!” Stanley called out while hustling back toward cover. A shot rang out. Stanley tumbled to the ground and yelped out in pain.
Kate saw the muzzle flash in the upstairs window but still could not use the night vision scope due to the brightly-burning flames below. She put several rounds into the upstairs window and called to Herman. “Stay on mission!”
He did not comply, rather he placed the two flaming jars at his feet and rushed toward Stanley who lay on his back grasping his right shin. Herman lifted the tubby man off the ground and began carrying him on his shoulder.
POW! Another shot rang out of the same window. Blood erupted from Herman’s forehead and he fell forward like a towering pine, dropping Stanley to the ground.
“Herman!” Kim screeched in horror.
Kate emptied her magazine in the window where the shot had originated.
Stanley lay on his belly like a slug. “Help me!”
“Crawl, Stanley! You have to crawl here!” Kate slapped a second magazine into the well and continued firing to provide cover for the chubby invalid inching his way in her direction.
Stanley did not make it to the ditch, but he did finally reach the giant oak which had provided him cover earlier. He put his back against the trunk and wailed in torture.
“We have to get Herman!” Kim sobbed.
“You can’t help him now, Mrs. Sweeny,” Kate replied. “And I need you to help me out.” She grabbed Herman’s AK-47 and shoved it into the sorrowful woman’s hands. “Just keep shooting at those upstairs windows while I go get the last two firebombs.”
“I don’t think I can hit anything.” Kim’s eyes were filled with tears.
“The enemy doesn’t know that. Just keep the bullets high so you don’t accidentally hit me.” Kate popped in a fresh magazine and slung her AR-15 over her shoulder. “Ready?”
Kim obviously was not but nodded anyway.
“Okay, start shooting now!” Kate sprinted toward the two jars sitting in the middle of the wide open yard. They flickered like candles in a great abyss of darkness and peril. She kept her eyes focused on the torches and ignored the danger. She heard Kim’s gunshots. “She’s firing too fast! She’s going to run out of bullets, and I’m not sure she can even change a magazine!” Kate complained to herself.
Kate reached the jars and lifted them from the place Herman Sweeny had left them. She darted toward the final bottom window and launched her payload inside. They exploded in a dazzling display of bright oranges, fiery reds, and brilliant yellows. However, Kim’s rifle fell silent.
“She’s out.” Kate’s stomach sank, knowing she’d never make the long dash back to the ditch without cover. She leaned against the wall of the burning house and looked toward the window above her. Rifle fire popped from inside, salting the tree line with lead.
Kate pulled her AR from her shoulder and prepared to fire. She’d have to provide her own cover fire if she was to make it across the yard before being roasted alive by the inferno in the house.
“They’re coming out!” Jack called over the radio. “Looks like they’re heading your way, Kate!”
“Fantastic!” Sarcastically, Kate voiced her frustration aloud.
Rapid exchanges of gunfire came from the house and the woods. The heat of the flames radiated from the house, baking Kate’s backside like an overdone Christmas goose. She inched away from the exterior wall, which was engulfed in flames on the other side. She saw one of Dean’s men sprint from around the corner, shooting back toward Jack as he ran.
Kate lifted her rifle. Using the off-set open sights, she fired. “Missed him, and now he’s in the woods.”
With her back to the flames, she could now re-engage her night vision. Kate powered on the scope. “I see you.” She squeezed the trigger. BANG! The enemy combatant dropped to the ground.
Gunfire continued to echo all around. Kate watched closely for more of Dean’s men who might pass her in their evacuation attempts. She watched the left side of the house where the last man had come from.
BOOM! She’d been blindsided. Coming in the opposite direction from which Kate was watching, one of the men tackled her to the ground and knocked the rifle from her grip. Kate lay on the ground. Stunned, she turned to see that it was James Dean who’d taken her from her feet. Likewise, Dean appeared bewildered by the encounter. Perhaps he’d been looking backward and not expecting anyone to be on this side of the house. Quickly realizing his predicament, Dean lunged at her with the elbow of his injured hand, knocking her flat on her back. He raised up on his knees and drew his pistol.
Kate wasted no time. She wrapped her legs around Dean’s torso and pulled him toward her with a violent jerk. He pulled the trigger but had lost his balance and missed the shot, even at such a close range. Kate grabbed the wrist of the hand with the pistol and forced it to the ground at her side. She released the guard with her feet, sat up, shifted to the side where the gun was and hooked her opposite arm around his arm which held the gun. She clenched her own wrist with her opposite hand and twisted Dean’s arm behind his back. He screamed and dropped the pistol. Kate turned toward Dean, forcing his arm further behind his back. Snap! She felt the bone crack in her grip. She quickly crawled fro
m under Dean and got behind him. She wrapped one arm under his chin, the other behind his neck, gripped the inside of her elbow, and squeezed until he went to sleep.
Kate caught her breath from the exertion and stood up. She quickly retrieved her rifle and prepared to shoot. Another man came from around the corner. She quickly placed the reticle on him but froze before pulling the trigger.
“Kate!” Jack threw his hands in the air, letting his rifle fall to his side and dangle from the sling.
She lowered the barrel of her gun. “Oh, thank God! I almost shot you.”
Jack looked down. “Is that Dean?”
“Yeah.”
“Is he dead?”
“Just sleeping.”
Jack drew his Glock, walked up to the man and pulled the trigger.
“Jack! He was completely disarmed!”
“So what were you going to do with him? Take him back, hold a trial, and execute him for murder, right?”
Kate quickly did the math. “Probably.”
“I just saved us some time.” Jack holstered his Glock and shouldered his rifle. “I think we’ve got them all, but we need to make a final round and mop up. Are you okay?”
Kate dusted the leaves off her shoulders from rolling on the ground with Dean. “Yeah, I’m good.” She followed Jack as they searched the area for more of Dean’s men by the light of Stanley’s blazing home.
CHAPTER 26
Live joyfully with the wife whom thou lovest all the days of the life of thy vanity, which he hath given thee under the sun, all the days of thy vanity: for that is thy portion in this life, and in thy labour which thou takest under the sun.
Ecclesiastes 9:9
Despite wearing multiple layers and piling on the blankets, Kate shivered in bed Friday morning. A knock came to her door.
“It’s me, Aunt Kate. Can I come in?” Vicky’s voice reverberated through the door.
“Sure.” Kate peeked out from beneath the quilts, blankets, and comforters.
The door opened. “I stoked up the fire and left some oatmeal in a pan on the hearth. I’m heading to the checkpoint for my shift.”
“Thanks, Vicky. Make sure you stay warm. Go inside the guard shack as often as you need to.”
“I will. I can’t ever remember it being this cold in November.” Vicky sat on the foot of Kate’s bed. “Only one more night of freezing to death for you.”
Kate tried to act like the wedding wasn’t the only thing she’d been thinking of since the shootout the day before. “Oh, yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Vicky rolled her eyes. “Give me a break! Aren’t you excited?”
Kate bit her lip to suppress the grin threatening to make her erupt in a squeal of exhilaration. “Maybe a little.”
Vicky watched her carefully. “Mmmhmm. Maybe a lot.”
Kate lost control of the smile and covered her head with the pillow. “Okay, maybe a lot.”
“I’m happy for you and Gavin. And I’m proud of you, too.”
“Oh yeah? Why is that?”
“Because you waited. I know it couldn’t have been easy.” Vicky stood up from the bed, slipping on her gloves and adjusting the strap of her rifle. “Unless you screw up tonight, of course.”
“We’re not going to screw up tonight!” Kate huffed with mixed emotions. “But thanks for noticing and thanks for the compliment.”
“No, thank you, Aunt Kate.” Vicky headed out the door. “For showing me that it is possible to do things God’s way.”
Kate swallowed the knot forming in her throat. “You’re welcome,” she said, but Vicky was already gone.
Gavin knocked on the frame of Kate’s bedroom door.
“Come in.”
“Nope. I can say what I need to say from right here.”
Kate sat up, troubled by the strange comment. “Is everything okay?”
“Fine, but you don’t know what goes through a guy’s mind the day before he gets married. Trust me, it’s not safe to have me anywhere around your bed.”
Kate blushed. “Oh! Well, I guess that’s good to know.”
“Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about something. The people in Laurel Ridge literally have nothing to eat. I was wondering what you thought about giving them a couple buckets of food.”
“I think that would be very kind. My only concern is that once the word is out that we’ve got food, we’ll become the neighborhood grocery store.”
“I considered that. Perhaps we should leave it on their doorstep; anonymously or something.”
“I think that would be better.” Kate pulled her hair back from her face.
Gavin’s eyes looked at her longingly. He moistened his lips with his tongue. He was silent for several moments.
She wanted so badly to ask him to come snuggle, just for a minute.
He sighed. “I better get out of here.”
“Okay. I’ll be down in a minute.” Kate was glad that she soon wouldn’t have to watch him walk away like that.
Someone beat on the door downstairs. The noise startled her, and she quickly got out from under the covers and got dressed. She zipped up her hoodie and hustled down the stairs to see what the matter was.
Pritchard sat on the couch next to Gavin.
“Mr. Pritchard, what brings you by?”
“This cold snap, that’s what.”
“Oh, do you need some firewood?”
“No girl, I got wood. But all these young chicks we’ve been a hatchin’. This weather ain’t no good for ‘em. Folks mostly try to raise ‘em up in the spring so they’ll have all their feathers by winter, but we’s in a pinch thanks to these computer locusts. Gonna have to figure out a way to keep ‘em warm. Them little rabbits, too.”
“Do you have any ideas?”
Pritchard shook his head as if deeply remorseful. “I’ve been a ruminatin’ on it, but all I can come up with is Edith Ramsey’s.”
“Edith Ramsey’s what?” Kate sat on the corner of the hearth, letting the fire warm her back.
“Edith Ramsey’s house, child. What else?”
Gavin looked exceedingly perplexed. “You want to put the chickens and rabbits in Edith’s house?”
Pritchard’s look of regret seemed slightly feigned. “I reckon we ain’t got no choice about it.” He tossed his hands heavenward, as if ceding some great debate. “Edith has a good stove. Won’t use that much wood, but it’ll keep that place good and warm for the critters.”
“Where would the animals go to the bathroom?” Kate furrowed her brow.
“Where ever. The carpet, the couch, the counters, Edith’s bed, ever where they happen to be when the notion hits ‘em, I suppose.” Even though Pritchard’s thick white beard covered his mouth, the lines around his aged eyes betrayed the smile creeping across his face.
“Mr. Pritchard, are you sure Edith Ramsey’s house is the best match for a chicken coop or is this just a good opportunity for you to get even with her? Remember what she said about having us locked up for trespassing when things get straightened out.” Kate turned to locate the oatmeal which Vicky had left for her.
“What a disgraceful thing to accuse me of! If you was a few years younger, I’d tan your hide for sayin’ such as that. Not that I believe it’ll get straightened out, but if’n it do, I’ll take full responsibility for it. Anyhow, Edith has that big ol’ flower garden all fenced in. We can let the critters out durin’ the daylight and shut ‘em up of a night. Hear tell she’s got a big ol’ rack for all them silly shoes she prances about in. That rack will make a right smart nestin’ box for them hens to lay their eggs in.”
Kate stirred the oatmeal and placed the pot closer to the fire. She looked at Gavin. “What do you think?”
“Sure, whatever.” He turned to Pritchard. “Do you need us to do anything?”
“Them ornery roosters will kill each other if you let ‘em get in the same room. We’ll have to keep them separated. Also, we need to keep the hens around the light of the stove. If they don’t
get enough light, they’re liable to quit layin’. We’ll have to shoo them out of Edith’s shoe racks of a night, too. If’n they take to sleepin’ in the shoe rack, they won’t lay in it. Otherwise, just the typical feedin’ ever evenin’. Durin’ the day, they’ll forage in the flower garden until it’s cleaned out.”
Kate tasted the oatmeal. “Won’t that be tragic?”
“Yep. Edith’s prize winnin’ flower garden will look like a hog waller by the time them chickens get done with it. But like I said, we ain’t got no choice.”
Kate shook her head at the old man’s insistence that he was not enjoying the prospect of converting Edith Ramsey’s home into a barnyard. “Okay, Mr. Pritchard. Just let us know when you need us to help out.”
“Best get it done today.” He stood and walked toward the door. “I don’t reckon none of us will see hide nor hair of you two after the hichin’. I told Jack not to put neither of you on the security schedule for next week.”
“Thanks,” Gavin walked Pritchard to the door. “Did he ask why?”
“Yep.” The old man opened the door.
“Did you tell him?” Kate inquired.
“Get your tails on over to the house in about an hour. We can have the coop set up before lunch.” Pritchard pulled the door closed behind him.
Gavin took a seat on the hearth next to Kate. “I guess that means the cat is out of the bag.”
“Yep. Jack will tell Kelly, and she’ll tell everyone else.”
Saturday finally came. Wearing the only dress she owned, Kate stood in Pritchard’s backyard where the makeshift chapel had once been. Her dress was navy blue with a ruffled sash hanging from the waist. It was far from the quintessential white wedding dress, but at least it was new and it did have long sleeves. She shivered in the cold mountain air, wishing the dress were longer.
