Nightwalker 5

by Frank Roderus

She ran through it again.

  “Exactly like that, and then cut the main wire. Thank you, miss. Exactly at five in the morning.” Wolfe looked at the watches they both wore. They held them up to show they had the correct time. “And then get yourselves out of there. Stay off the main roads. When the convoy passes, get yourselves home. We will take care of the rest.”

  The two nodded and left. Wolfe watched them through a crack in the curtains. They jumped on their bikes and started riding. Too fast, he thought. It was dark out. But they were excited. They would slow down soon enough.

  He hoped they would.

  Wolfe wanted Jennifer to stay safely with Bessie, but the old woman had said she was coming, too. She wanted to see it through. Like a general sending her army to fight an enemy, Bessie insisted on being there. Wolfe could not talk her out of it. “You stay together,” he told her and Jennifer. Wolfe did not have to worry about the big dog.

  Bessie cornered Wolfe while he was by himself, lost in his thoughts.

  “It’s too late for anything except giving it the best we got.”

  “Blood will be spilled before the sun rises. I do not like any of it,” Wolfe confided. “But it must be done. Let it be more of theirs than ours.”

  “I cannot thank you enough for helping us, Mister Wolfe. We hope to convince you to help us get settled once FEDCOM is out of the picture. If you can’t stay, we will load you up and have you on your way as soon as we can.”

  Wolfe nodded. His mind drifted to Lurleen and JoJo.

  “If I didn’t know better. I’d say you were thinking about someplace nicer than here. Care to share your thoughts?” Bessie asked.

  “Florida. My wife and son. I have to believe they are waiting for me.”

  “If they aren’t, you are always welcome here,” Bessie said softly while squeezing Wolfe’s arm.

  That wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but it would have to do.

  “What happens when other FEDCOM units come to see what happened to their people?” Wolfe wondered.

  That train had already left the station. They might show up tomorrow, for all he knew. But his promise to himself had been to live more for today and less for the next since too much rolled across his path that he had no control over. He was hanging on for the ride, and with Jennifer to look out for, he could not get distracted.

  Or starry-eyed. Protecting her meant building a wall around her, one that held back the men like the soldiers from FEDCOM. He would not let them get near her.

  But they had. And Miss Bessie had fought them off.

  He needed more friends like her. Jennifer needed her freedom, and he was only one man. He could not watch her all the time. She had to learn to fend for herself, just in case something happened to him.

  Wolfe closed his eyes and tried to calm his wandering mind. There was too much to think about. Too many questions, and not enough answers.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Bessie told him, finally letting go of his arm.

  He watched her go from person to person, delivering words of encouragement to each of the groups as they stood around and talked. Three more teams would head out shortly to get in place for the delivery of their early morning surprise.

  Two old men slowly approached Wolfe.

  “Excuse us, Mister. We both served in the Army and are ready to go. We might have some skills you need.”

  “Can you make a Molotov cocktail?” he asked.

  One of the men smiled. “A little laundry soap, gasoline, and a rag for a wick. I can do that. Just need some gasoline.”

  Bessie had heard from the other side of the basement. “How about some high-test grain alcohol?”

  “You told me…” His words ended as Bessie smiled at him. “Why, you old hag!”

  “If you had known, you would have been bugging me something fierce for a bottle or three to throw down that bottomless gullet of yours.”

  “I might have done just that, but now that I know, you won’t be able to hide it from me.”

  Bessie gestured for him to follow her. The other man stayed.

  “He didn’t learn that when we served,” the man said. “He loved burning things and blowing stuff up. Well, what soldier doesn’t?”

  Wolfe nodded. He had not served, and did not know what soldiers liked or not. The only soldiers he had had any contact with were the ones from FEDCOM, and they were the refuse of humanity in his mind. He knew there had to be a different side. The old codgers showed him what could have been. Enjoying life without getting into other people’s business.

  “During your talk, you asked about other things an old soldier might do. I can shoot a mortar and a heavy machinegun. There ain’t much call for that stuff around here, but I saw they have ‘em. I’m not sure they know how to use ‘em. Seem kinda young for that training.”

  Wolfe examined the old man. “Everyone looks young the older we get,” Wolfe noted.

  The old man laughed himself into a wheezing cough. His face turned red, then he stopped and dragged a sleeve across his mouth. “Ain’t that the truth. Don’t make me laugh, mister. It never turns out well, but damn, that was funny.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Wolfe abandoned all pretense of traveling in the shadows. The vast mob behind him was making too much noise. They walked in the open where they could see. Some of them were talking.

  He ducked into a driveway that went between two darkened houses. The thirty people behind him followed. Wolfe turned at the end and held up his hands.

  “This is not going to work. You are making too much noise.” As if to emphasize his point, Buddy dove into the bushes and wrestled with something before emerging victorious, a ground squirrel in his mouth.

  “I need you.” Wolfe pointed to the two old veterans. “I need you four.” More pointing. “And you two. Bessie, you take Jennifer and everyone else to a place near the road leading into the eastern compound. Once we have everything in hand, we will need everyone to come in and help us carry any arms and ammunition they have. We cannot leave anything there.”

  “Kill ‘em all. Let God sort ‘em out,” the old soldier said. Wolfe could not sympathize with him. He did not want to kill anyone. He was only doing what he had to do.

  And that had changed since he walked out of that shaft, which seemed like a lifetime ago. With his goggles around his neck, he could see in the dark as if it were hazy twilight. He could bend steel, and his hair had turned white. He had dyed it brown, but it was growing again, and the white roots were starting to show.

  He would have to find more dye unless he finished the Alstons and the major. Removed them and their ability to haunt him.

  There was so much he would change if he could, from driving the truck to after the fall. Letting men like the Alstons have their way made everyone worse. They needed to be corralled and broken. They needed to be a footnote in history, not making history.

  Their time had come.

  Wolfe would see to that this very night. His lip twitched into a feral snarl that no one could see. It was too dark for that.

  “Time to go,” he told his small group. “Miss Bessie, stay back a ways. Let us have the road. You’ll know when it is okay to cut the wire and join us.”

  She produced a hacksaw blade and pair of wire cutters. “We’ll take care of it. How will I know when it’s time to go?”

  “I reckon the noise and shouting will tell you.” Wolfe hoisted his bow. He had eight arrows in his quiver. He was running low again. He did not want to waste them but had no choice.

  Too many times recently, he had had no choice. It was like hanging onto the raft as it raced down the rapids. He was not even sure he was riding on the inside.

  Wolfe led the group to the edge of the small fenced compound. This time, the sentry at the front gate was wide awake. He peered into the darkness while leaning against the barricade that blocked the main gate. Wolfe motioned for everyone behind him to get down.

  Wolfe nocked an arrow, took aim, and held it steady as he crep
t forward. He had to make a clean shot since he could not risk the sentry crying out. One step after another, carefully, toe first, then heel. A crack of something underfoot. The sentry’s head snapped toward Wolfe. The man started to bring up his gun, and Wolfe loosed the arrow.

  It raced home, burying itself to the feathers in the sentry’s throat. Wolfe ran forward, accelerating at the unnatural speed that had come with his great strength. He caught the man before he tumbled to the ground. Wolfe pulled the arrow out, looking around as he cleaned it and prepared it for another shot. He studied the area.

  Like last time, there was only one sentry and no lights.

  Wolfe waved his arm in exaggerated circles to catch the attention of those behind him. They rose slowly and cautiously approached. A couple of the women could not take their eyes off the body. The blood dripping from the gory neck-wound reflected the dim light of the crescent moon.

  “Stay here, and watch for anyone coming. Raise the alarm if you see anyone,” Wolfe whispered to one of the women. He pushed the rest past the barrier into the compound. He pointed at the building that had held the two couples. “Secure that one, and pull the women out and find if they are there by choice. Secure the men.” He led the others to the small barracks.

  It was the same as before.

  Wolfe nodded at the two Molotov cocktails the old soldier carried. The man winked back.

  The woman at the front gate started screaming and pointing. Someone inside the barracks started to yell. The old man flicked a lighter, blinding Wolfe. He covered his face and backed away.

  The next thing he knew, the window had broken under the force of the thrown bottle. The second one followed the first through.

  Wolfe pulled his goggles into place and blinked to clear the bright flashes from his eyes and the piercing pain from his head. Someone popped through a door next to him. His instincts honed from a year on the road through the Red Zone, where everything and everyone seemed to want him dead, he caught the individual by the throat, shook him until his neck bones snapped, and threw him back through the doorway, blocking two others from escaping. He shut the door, and held it against their efforts. The screaming started. The pounding subsided. And then only the crackle of the fire remained.

  “Put that fire out,” Wolfe growled. He hurried to the other building, where the second team had their four sleepy captives in hand. The women were half-naked and the men in their underwear. All were angry at the intrusion.

  The old veteran saluted before speaking. “We have determined that all four are FEDCOM sympathizers!” he declared in a firm voice.

  Wolfe frowned at the term.

  “What are we supposed to do with you?” Wolfe asked.

  The one who has snarling less raised his head and threw his shoulders back. “I demand that you release us.”

  “I would love to do that, but you see, FEDCOM is a bunch of raping, thieving murderers. Since you’re wearing their uniform, seems like you threw your lot in with the wrong side. Too many decent people around here to leave your kind to run roughshod.”

  One of the captive women belted out an expressive list of curse words attacking Wolfe and his lineage. Wolfe finally tired of her creativity.

  “And what’s up with those stupid goggles, freak?” she ended.

  “I’m not one for hitting women, but if I were, you would be a prime candidate.”

  “These four are going to be a problem. Should we execute them?” the old soldier asked.

  The expression of disdain disappeared and the color drained from the men’s faces. Miss Bessie arrived with the other underground volunteers in tow. The foul-mouthed woman started screeching and Bessie back-handed her across the face hard enough to knock her down.

  “Maybe I was wrong, Mister Wolfe. This town does have prostitutes.”

  The second woman broke free and lunged for the old woman, but Buddy had other ideas. He launched himself at her, catching the hooker mid-stride and dragging her down by the throat. Jennifer didn’t blink as the dog finished the woman. No one raised a hand to help her, not even the two male captives. The second woman crawled backward to put distance between her and the half-wolf Angel of Death.

  Another volunteer stopped her and dragged her to her feet. “You better mind your manners,” Bessie warned.

  “With me,” Wolfe directed, leaving the captives to the old woman as he took a group to the building he thought was the armory. He gripped the lock and hasp, braced himself, and pulled. It resisted, but it couldn’t withstand everything Wolfe gave it. The metal snapped, and the door opened.

  Wolfe removed his goggles to look inside. He was disappointed to see only a dozen M16 rifles, no more than a thousand rounds of 5.56mm ball ammo, and twenty empty magazines. There were two M1911A1 pistols with two magazines and a single box with fifty ACP cartridges.

  “Load these up and give them to anyone willing to shoot. Give them a quick class on how to operate these rifles,” Wolfe told his two veterans. With his goggles back over his eyes, he flipped the switch and the lights came on.

  Half a dozen volunteers squeezed into the room and started filling magazines.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Wolfe wouldn’t let them leave the bodies on the ground. They hauled them into the half-burned barracks, tossed them inside, and closed the door. It was a cinder-block building with a steel door, now warped from the heat. Those inside had never had a chance.

  Jennifer wiped Buddy’s muzzle with a rag lying on the ground. Bessie stayed close, directing traffic and telling everyone to keep the noise down.

  “They have a truck,” one of the old veterans said.

  “You can grab it after this is all over. For now, we still need surprise on our side.”

  “And that’s why you wanted us to put out the fire,” another man commented.

  “And cut the telephone wire,” Bessie added.

  Wolfe looked into the darkness. With his welding glasses on, it looked dark to him, too. “I’ll be right back.” Jennifer and Buddy stayed at his side. She hung onto the bow hanging over his shoulder. At the edge of the compound, he pulled off his goggles. In the far distance, he could see the glow from the floodlights of the western compound.

  The trio returned to the others. “Time?” he asked.

  “Four-thirty,” Bessie answered.

  “Let’s move,” he called loudly. “Quiet, now. We are going to sneak up on them and watch the soldiers leave, and then we need to take over that compound. Anyone left should not be the fighting type.”

  Bessie leaned close. “It made sense before, but now that we’re out here, how sure are you that all their fighting types will leave and we can waltz right in there?”

  “I was never much of a dancer, ma’am,” Wolfe replied. He did not want to tell her the truth: that his plan revolved around luck, hope, and surprise. “It has to work. It was the only plan I could come up with.”

  “Better than anything we had,” she conceded. “What do we do with those three?”

  “I’ll take care of it,” one of the women from the underground said.

  “You know these…individuals?”

  “That one.” She pointed to the woman who had spoken earlier. The look on her face said it had not been a pleasant encounter.

  “Give her the pistol,” Wolfe said in a cold and hard voice. The .45 caliber fired a big slug at a slower speed. It was loud up close, but the supersonic crack was the sound that carried.

  “We better get going. I will be out front. Please keep them quiet, especially as we get close.” Wolfe could not risk the group being discovered. After what they had done at the eastern compound, they would all be put to death. FEDCOM took no prisoners. He had seen that personally.

  He moved far enough away from the group to be able to take off his goggles, then waved for them to follow him through the front gate and to the side roads that led through the town. A block away, he heard a loud pop, followed by two more. Then silence.

  Wolfe stopped and said a
short prayer for the woman who could execute people like that. He had known she was going to do it, and had given her the tool to carry it out. The deaths were every bit as much on his head as theirs. All four of them. He could have stopped Buddy but didn’t. He wondered how he would be treated when he arrived at the Pearly Gates. He suspected he would never get that close. He rubbed his eyes.

  The bombs had changed everything. A war where he never knew what happened to start it, but was painfully aware of what finished it. He figured both sides had lost, as well as all the people the government was supposed to be protecting.

  And that had given birth to FEDCOM. He could no longer stand by and let them have their way. That woman was carrying out justice for a crime against her. An eye for an eye. Wasn’t that what the Good Book said?

  After the night sounds returned without any sign that FEDCOM soldiers had heard the gunfire, he started walking again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Wolfe held up his fist like he had seen in the movies back when there were movies. The people behind him should have stopped, but they did not. He turned around and walked toward them, waving his arms. When they finally saw him, they froze in their tracks. He held out his hands in a gesture that said, “Stay.”

  He headed back to the last house on the street, staying behind a heavily overgrown hedge. He worked his way past the branches and leaves until he could see the compound. With his goggles on, he looked from one side to the other, and from bottom to top. There was nothing different from the last time he was there. He backed carefully out of the bushes and hurried to Bessie.

  “Can you shut the power off after the convoy pulls out?”

  “I didn’t coordinate that!” the woman almost shouted in exasperation.

  Wolfe tried to calm her. “I know. It’s okay. I think that could give us the edge we need. If you can’t, we’ll deal with it.”

  He kicked himself for not thinking that part of the plan through. This was the point where the soldiers might shoot back.