by Steven Pajak
He’d said they were ‘neighbors’.
I slid the panel door open on my side and locked it into place. Before I stepped out I asked quietly so those in the back could not hear, “Alex do you think this truck can ram that roadblock?”
He looked at me for a moment and when he realized I was serious he looked back ahead at the vehicles that blocked the road. He studied them for a few seconds and then said, “I don’t think so. Why do you ask?
“Stay calm but alert,” I said ignoring his question. “Charlie, come up here.”
Charlie appeared in the small space between our two front seats. “What’s up, boss?”
“Come with me.”
“Okay.”
We both swung down from the truck and approached Comedian and company. His arms were down at his side now and his face was stern. I knew he didn’t like us, and I could see the disgust on his face as we approached.
“We’re from Randall Oaks,” I said when I stopped in front of him.
He rolled his eyes. “I know who you are. What do you have in the truck?”
I looked at Charlie who shrugged. I guess it was an honest question to ask.
“Some supplies. Food mostly,” I replied.
Comedian nodded his head. “We’re going to need to look inside. Open the rear doors.”
“What?” I asked, not sure I’d heard him clearly.
“I said open it up.” His eyes squinted as he stared at me. He had the look of a man who was used to getting what he wanted, and what he wanted most was trouble.
“Just let us through,” I said. “We’re tired and we don’t have time for games.”
Comedian took a step forward so that he was just inches away from me. I could smell his cheap aftershave and booze on his breath. His eyes were rimmed red. When he spoke, his voice was loud and authoritative.
“By order of Frank Senior, all vehicles entering will be searched and Providence is entitled to half of all supplies. Please step out of the truck and open it up for our inspection.”
“You’re nuts,” I said. “I want to talk to Phil.”
“Phil ain’t here,” he said with menace in his voice, “and I’m not going to ask you again. Open the truck. Whatever you have in there, we’re taking half.”
Anger filtered through my veins. My breathing grew rapid and my hands clenched my SKS tightly. After what we’d just been through, my adrenaline was already up and I was in a fighting mood.
Apparently Charlie could see from my body language that I was about to cause trouble. He took a step forward and said, “Easy fellas.”
Before I knew what was happening, Comedian drew a revolver from his hip. He aimed it at Charlie and said, “No one’s talking to you, asshole.”
The gunshot temporarily deafened me and I cringed, my left hand automatically going to my ear. I crouched instinctively and at the same time turned toward Charlie. He stood about three feet to my left and about a foot behind me. His eyes were wide and his face shocked. Both of his hands clutched his abdomen where the bullet had torn his flesh.
I turned back to Comedian, who looked as shocked as Charlie.
“Oh, shit,” he said, just as I smashed the butt stock of my SKS into his face.
Everything happened quickly, I’m sure, but to me, time seemed to have slowed to a crawl. My vision tunneled in on Comedian and for a moment only he existed.
He stumbled backward a few steps from the force of the blow and both of his hands went up to his face. He still held the pistol in one hand and I think he was screaming.
Holding the SKS out in front of me I charged the bastard and pushed him the rest of the way until he slammed up against one of the SUVs that blocked the road. I don’t remember losing hold of the SKS, but I had, because both my hands were wrapped around the bastard’s throat, squeezing with every ounce of strength I possessed. Tears streamed from his eyes and his face was contorted into a mask of fear.
I felt hands desperately pulling at my arms and then fists pelted my shoulders and back. I felt my grip slipping on Comedian. I rammed a knee into his crotch and he slid to the ground.
Phil whirled me around and held his hands out in a non-threatening way when I shoved him back.
“Take it easy, Matt,” he said. “Everybody just calm down, damn it.”
“He shot Charlie!” I yelled at Phil and pushed him again. His movement was halted when he struck the side of the Escalade.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry, but calm down before this turns into a bloodbath here.”
I knew he was right. We had to rein things in, get some control. I saw Charlie lying on the ground and Alex kneeling beside him with his T-shirt wadded up, applying pressure to his wound. John and Iggy stood nearby; they’d been tussling with the other Providence men who’d been trying to pull me off Comedian.
“Move this truck,” I ordered Phil, and pushed past him. To John and Iggy I said, “Help Alex with Charlie. Get him into the truck. We have to go. Move!”
Phil grabbed my arm and halted me. When I faced him he handed me my SKS and said, “Look, we’re under orders here, and I really can’t let you go without taking half of whatever you have there.”
“Orders from who? Frank Senior? He has no authority over me or my community. He doesn’t own the road. Now get the hell out of my way, Phil.”
“Matt, I understand you’re angry, but listen to what I’m saying. Providence has been keeping this road safe; we’ve been keeping those crazy things from your doorstep. You owe us.”
“You’re crazy. We don’t owe you a damn thing. And if Senior has a problem with that, he knows where to find me. And this is the last time I’m going to ask you to move that truck, Phil. If Charlie dies here, I guarantee Comedian follows. Right here and right now.”
Phil stared at me for a long moment, our eyes never leaving each others’.
Finally he said, “This isn’t going to end well for either of our communities.” He turned away from me and yelled, “Open it up!”
Comedian was on his knees. Blood trickled down from his mouth and his nose was already starting to swell. He looked at me with half closed eyes as I walked up to him. His hands went up instinctively to block his face.
“You’d better hope I never see you again,” I said. I kicked him in the ribs and he fell onto his right side.
“What the hell?” the man next to Comedian said.
I looked him in the eyes and said, “I better not see you either.”
Charlie had already been moved into the truck when I swung up into the passenger’s seat. I could see Charlie wasn’t doing well. He’d lost all color from his face, and the shirt Alex used to compress the wound was soaked with blood. Iggy continued to compress the wound with his T-shirt against Charlie’s abdomen. He looked up at me with horror in his eyes.
“Hang in there, Charlie, we’re gonna get you some help.” To Alex I said, “Come on, move this thing.”
We blew past the Providence roadblock and within minutes we were at our own gates. Alex slammed the truck to a stop and laid on the horn until the men on sentry scurried over and opened them.
A crowd had already gathered on the main access road and they were clapping and cheering as Alex navigated the brown truck.
I hung out the side door shouting, “Get out of the way! Make a hole!”
At the T-intersection Alex turned right and then made a quick left, heading toward the command post. In the side mirror I saw a crowd of people following down the street.
Bob and Brian stood on the small porch of the command post and they both approached with smiles on their faces. When I jumped out of the vehicle and pulled open the side door their smiles faded. Bob looked like he’d been hit in the gut. He stopped in his tracks, frozen or in shock, I couldn’t tell which. Brian came forward at a trot. I could see he was upset. He had that set to his walk and his fists clenched at his sides.
As Iggy, John and I lifted Charlie and started to carry him toward the CP, I said, “Bob wake the hell up
! I need David Green and Ravi at the CP now! Tell them we have a gunshot wound. Hurry!”
Without asking questions, but with a stunned look still on his face, Bob shook himself out of his stupor and took off running.
The crowd started to catch up to us. I didn’t want them to see Charlie like this. “Move faster! Get the door open for Christ’s sake!” I yelled.
“What the hell happened?” Brian asked. He matched our pace as we carried Charlie into the CP. “How did this happen?”
“Not now,” I said. “Get the door open already!”
“Where’s he hit?” Brian asked. “Charlie, who did this?”
Not thinking but just reacting, I shoved Brian away with my right hand. “Back off! Why don’t you get those damn people out of here?”
Brian stopped but we kept moving. I didn’t have time to worry about his feelings. And I certainly didn’t need to hear him say ‘I told you so’.
Within seconds we were up the short set of steps and moving into the command post. We cut quickly through the living room and into the dining room.
“Get him on the table,” I said. “Someone get some pillows from the sofa. Move!”
The three of us gently lay Charlie onto the dining room table. He was still conscious, but just barely. His face was absolutely colorless. I grabbed his right hand and it was cold as ice.
He moaned a bit and tried to turn his body, but Iggy and John stabilized him. “Hold still, buddy,” Iggy said.
Brushing his wet hair away from his forehead, I leaned in close to Charlie and whispered, “We’re going to take care of you, Charlie. You hang in there, man. Ravi’s coming.”
He didn’t respond, not even a moan. I moved around to the left side of the table and bumped Iggy out of the way.
“Iggy, see if you can find some towels or sheets. Lots of them.” To John I said, “Go into the kitchen and get as many pots of water as you can on the stove and start boiling. Hurry!”
The two men moved off to do as they were told. The minutes seemed to be ticking away and with every second Charlie’s life was slipping away with them. I took his hand and squeezed it gently.
“Please hang in there, man.”
I heard breathing behind me and turned to find my brother standing there. I hadn’t heard him enter.
“He doesn’t look good.”
I shook my head.
Brian stepped forward and stood next to me. With the tips of his fingers he pinched the T-shirt and lifted it, exposing the gunshot wound. Blood bubbled up from the torn flesh and spilled down Charlie’s flank.
“Bleeding’s not stopping,” Brian said and put pressure on the wound.
“Bob’s taking too long.” I turned away and started toward the door with the intention of tracking down Bob and Ravi when Brian called out to me.
When I turned back Brian shook his head. He slowly unzipped his fleece sweater, and with a gentleness I did not know he possessed, he draped the sweater over Charlie’s torso and head.
“No,” I said. I moved forward stiffly and stopped about three feet away from the table. “Please, no.”
Bob, Ravi and David Green hustled into the room but stopped in their tracks just inside the door. I saw John standing silently in the kitchen doorway and Iggy stood behind Brian with an arm full of sheets. The room was silent. All eyes moved to Charlie’s lifeless body. We all stood that way for the next few minutes before I finally turned and walked away.
* * *
I stepped out of the house and onto the front stoop. I put my face into my hands, doing my best not to break down. Charlie was a good man. He’d watched my back at Providence when we fended off an attack of crazies who’d breached their borders, he’d saved my life at Kappy’s just an hour ago, and he’d tried to quell the situation at the Providence border and it gotten him killed.
I wanted to take time to grieve Charlie properly but I had a truck full of meat and supplies that needed to be attended to, I had a family of refugees that needed to be situated, and I had to arrange for Charlie’s funeral.
I stood up and brushed the seat of my pants, inhaled deeply, and looked around.
Several groups of people had gathered outside the command post, most congregated around Alex and his UPS truck. They gave the command post a wide berth. Whether or not they actually knew what happened, they at least sensed there was tension here and they gave us space.
Katherine and Sam stood nearby and I made eye contact with them. I made my way to them and I could see they were both scared and confused.
“Is Charlie really dead?” Kat asked.
I nodded and took her hand.
“Kat, I really need you to have Alex and whoever else you can find get those supplies stored away. I have two freezers in my garage. You’ll need them.”
“Are you going to be okay?” she asked.
“Yes. I’m fine. I’ll be better when the 500 pounds of meat isn’t defrosting in the truck,” I said.
Kat hesitated a moment more and then turned to go about her task. Sam moved to follow, but I halted her by taking her hand.
“I need your help with something else, Sam.”
She nodded and stared at me with sad eyes.
Holding her hand, I led her toward the UPS truck. A small group of folks were gathered around a tall, balding man. He wore khaki pants and a pale pastel checkered shirt. His name was Reginald Osgood, known to most of us as Reverend Reggy.
Reverend Reggy held mass at the Randall Oaks Church and Center for Arts located just to our west, outside the walls that surrounded our community. Although I was not a member of his congregation, I had no doubt that Reverend Reggy would honor my request.
Sam and I stopped beside the small group and Reggy, who had been in the middle of discussion, stepped forward and embraced me.
“My condolences, brother,” he said.
“Thanks, Rev,” I said. I nodded to the rest of the group and then asked, “May I have a word with you?”
Reggy nodded and excused himself. Together the three of us stepped away from the rest of the group and huddled together.
“Things are kind of crazy right now, Rev, and I was hoping I could count on you to take care of the arrangements for Charlie. I’d like to have something for him today and I don’t care how late it is. I’d like to lay him to rest on Harper’s Knoll.”
“Absolutely,” Reggy said. “I’ll handle all of the arrangements. Don’t fret. Go on and take care of what you need to take care of. Charlie will be in good hands.”
“I know he will,” I said and hugged the reverend.
He moved off quickly and stopped at his small congregation, probably seeking assistance for the task at hand.
I turned my attention back to Sam. “While we were out there we came across a family that’s been stranded here while visiting from Wisconsin. They had a tough time out there and I’ve offered them sanctuary here. Right now I have no idea what to do with them and I was hoping that they could stay with you and Kat until I can find a place for them.”
“Is that the couple with the little boy over there?” Sam asked, nodding her head toward Alex’s truck.
Turning in that direction, I saw Ron and his family huddled together on the curb. Someone had brought out a blanket and wrapped it around Wesley’s shoulders.
“That’s them,” I said. “I know I’m asking a lot but I could really use your help with this.”
“Consider it done,” Sam said.
“Do you want to make sure it’s okay with Kat?”
Sam shook her head. “Kat will be thrilled. Don’t worry about that, just introduce me to them.”
I smiled. “Thank you, Sam.” I hugged her.
“Any time.”
Together we approached the Randall Oak refugees. As we drew near, Ron stood up and took a few steps forward to meet us.
“I heard your man didn’t make it,” he said. “I’m really sorry. He seemed like a nice guy, even if he did hit me with his gun.”
“He
was a nice guy,” I replied, “and I’m glad he didn’t shoot first and ask questions later.”
We were all silent for a moment, each of us awkward in our emotions. After an uncomfortable fifteen seconds I said, “Ron, this is Samantha. She and her friend Katherine have graciously agreed to give your family temporary shelter while we try to find something more permanent. I hope that’s okay with you.”
Ron was silent for a moment and I could see he was fighting back tears. He nodded his head vigorously and reached out for Sam’s hand.
“Thank you so much.” Ron’s voice cracked and his eyes watered. “This means so much to us.”
“It’s our pleasure,” Sam said. I could see that she, too, was greatly affected by this family’s situation. “Come on, introduce me to your family and then let’s go home.”
As Ron turned away, I grabbed Sam’s elbow. “I owe you both,” I said.
“I’ll collect sometime,” Sam said and winked at me. “You just better be willing pay up, mister.”
I returned to the command post and stood in the doorway of the living room. Charlie’s body lay on top of white sheets and a white pillow case covered his private area. Reverend Reggy and a woman I didn’t know were using wet cloths to clean the blood from Charlie’s torso. Reggy dipped his hands into a pot of water and softly used his fingers to comb back Charlie’s hair. I had to look away.
Iggy and John sat on the living room sofa and were staring off at nothing. They both looked exhausted and Iggy looked as though he’d been crying.
Moving quietly across the carpet from the dining room to the living room, I knelt down in front of the two men, placing the SKS on the coffee table.
“How are you guys doing?” I asked.
John’s eyes shifted toward me and he said, “We’re okay, boss.”
Iggy closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them. He didn’t look at me but said, “I’ll be okay.”
I took in a deep breath and exhaled. Iggy looked like he was about to fall over. His eyes were sunken and red from crying, his breathing was labored. When I touched his forehead it was hot against my skin.
