Without II: The Fall

by E. E. Borton

  “The major said the best way to clean out South Pittsburg, Kimball, and Jasper would be to mount a two-prong attack,” said Perry. “With our permission, they’d station a hundred troops here in Bridgeport to hit them from the south while the other hundred hit them from the north. They said it would split the groups in half, and they’d have to fight their armies on two fronts. They’d use our train to move their men and supplies into Bridgeport from a staging area at Nickajack Dam.”

  “Sound familiar?” asked Gunny, looking at me.

  “Sorry, Gunny. I didn’t know there was going to be a quiz.”

  “You need to study more history, son.”

  “Obviously.”

  “Let me help you with this one,” said Perry. “It’s how the Nazis swept through Europe.”

  “Bingo,” said Gunny. “They made false promises to weaker countries by signing non-aggression agreements. Those countries allowed them to move freely with troops and supplies to attack stronger ones. Once they defeated the big guys, they turned their guns on the little guys that helped them. All of them.”

  “If we didn’t agree to help them, what was going to happen next?” I asked.

  “Their force is still going cross Nickajack Dam, but they would cross the bridge at South Pittsburg,” said Gunny. “They knew it would be a tougher battle at that chokepoint, and they’d lose a lot more men. Once they took the town, we’d have a meeting and come to some kind of agreement about helping each other coexist.”

  “Well, I guess we gave them our answer,” said JD.

  “Looks like it,” said Gunny. “They might not be too happy about how we gave it.”

  “I’m guessing Major Whitaker was supposed to deliver the answer in person,” I said.

  “He was,” said Perry. “So what do we do now? Wait and see what they do?”

  “That’s one option,” said Gunny. “But what if they decide to cross here instead of South Pittsburg? That’s too close to our front door. If they have just one mortar tube and a few rounds, they can take us out from the other side of the bridge. If they have a couple of decent snipers, same result. If they have both, we don’t stand a chance.”

  “What if we hit them as they’re crossing the dam?” I asked.

  “Bingo again,” said Gunny. “It’s a much better chokepoint and there’s no cover. These aren’t professional soldiers, so they’ll probably send everyone across at the same time. That dam is a half-mile long and narrow. When the shooting starts, their only escape will be to jump in the lake on one side, or the river on the other.”

  “They’ll be loaded down with gear,” said JD. “That’ll send them right to the bottom.”

  “It will,” said Gunny. “But even if they manage to shed their gear, they can’t fight from the water.”

  “It’s unlikely any of them will make it across, but if they do, they’ll still have our bridge to deal with,” I said.

  “They shouldn’t even get that close,” said Gunny. “We can have shooters in concealed positions along the five miles of track from the dam to our bridge. Their job would be to take a few more of them out, fall back to the next position, and so on. Even if they fight to the last man, they shouldn’t get within three miles of Bridgeport.”

  “Sounds like you’ve done this before, Gunny,” said Joey. “It sounds like it should be another turkey shoot.”

  “Only in a perfect world, son,” said Gunny. “The leader of a larger force may have more experience. If he does, he’ll send over groups of ten or so and space them out. It’ll force us to engage them, reveal our position, and allow the rest of them to take cover and fire from across the dam. I’m not sure if you’ve ever had a hundred guns firing at you, kid, but I have. All you can do is try to make yourself small and pray.”

  “So we’ve given up on negotiating with them,” said Perry. “You haven’t even met the leader, and you’re already comparing him to Hitler. I know what his men did was unacceptable, and they paid the price. I just find it hard to believe we can’t find some sort of common ground before we go to war with them.”

  “I’m all ears,” said Gunny. “You know my background and it’s what I’m good at. I’ve never been much of a negotiator.”

  “And I don’t think the white flag on our guns is going to work this time, Uncle,” I said. “What do you propose we do?”

  “Reach out,” said Perry. “It’s as simple as that. But when we do, we’ll make sure we’re ready for a fight if that’s the only option they give us.”

  “I take it you’ll be doing the reaching?” I asked.

  “I will,” said Perry, “but I’m taking you and the Kramer brothers with me. I’m sorry JD, you and your brother need to sit this one out. We’ll have to tell them the truth about what happened to their men. You can help Gunny prepare for the strike at the dam if it comes to that.”

  “You told me not to argue with you, Dad,” said Joey, “and I’m trying to respect that,

  but –”

  “I know, son,” said Perry. “You not going with me will give me peace of mind that, if anything bad happens, your mother and sister are going to be taken care of. Help Gunny organize the men from Stevenson and let Scottsboro know what’s going on. We may end up needing their guns as well before this thing is over. Can I count on you for that?”

  “Of course, Pops.”

  After Uncle Perry outlined our diplomatic solutions, we continued our meeting late into the evening. We drew up several different scenarios for the ambush at Nickajack Dam if diplomacy failed. In most of the scenarios, we hoped to get the job done with forty men. That would leave thirty to defend Bridgeport if they broke through. Any angle we came at the problem, we didn’t have the numbers, the weapons, or the ammunition for a toe-to-toe battle with the militia.

  As the hour grew late, my mind started to wander with Kelly filling most of my thoughts. I knew she wasn’t happy that I was still in Bridgeport, but I also knew she’d understand the reasons. It still wouldn’t save me from a stern talking-to after a warm embrace when we were reunited. Missing another night at home would make it the longest time we’d been separated in months. It was the same for the rest of the men from Stevenson who didn’t get to go home.

  Our train that had been dormant on the rails for so long had a new purpose and schedule. It would be returning to Bridgeport with its first load of the people and supplies we would need for a prolonged fight. Preparations that would take us a week could be accomplished in a few days with much less fatigue. All the “old girl” needed was wood to burn and water to boil, both of which we had in ample supply all around us. (Back in the day, its primary source of fuel was coal, but it would run on just about anything combustible that we threw in the firebox.)

  The men from Stevenson would be bunking in the train station. We brought enough food and water to sustain ourselves for a few days without having to use the supplies we brought for the people of Bridgeport. Once again, I was impressed with the generosity and kindness of strangers. Several times during the evening, locals would show up out of the blue and offer us a meal or a softer bed in their homes. Times were hard for all of us, but our people did whatever they could to make it easier. These were people worth fighting for.

  Being the resourceful man he was, JD cut a metal barrel in half, set it on top of a stack of bricks, and built us a fire pit in the middle of the platform. After circling it with chairs, a harmonica, fiddle, and jug of something that tasted like berry flavored gasoline showed up out of nowhere.

  Before the event, it was difficult trying to imagine how life would continue with any hint of normalcy without electricity. As the jug made its way around for the third time, it was becoming easier. Without outlets, light bulbs, or heaters on a chilly evening, I found music, smiles, and laughter all around me.

  I looked around the fire at the faces lit up by the warm glow. Gunny was telling Uncle Perry a story from his days as a Marine stationed overseas. Next to them, JD and Tucker were sharing a jar of gasoline wi
th two attractive women who were all smiles. Doug and Daniel were talking about Nickajack Dam and the best way to control the flow of the river. Joey was making a grandmother’s day by dancing with her in front of the makeshift band. It was hard to believe that earlier in the day we buried three children and burned the farmhouse that we turned into a tomb for the others.

  After I passed the jug for the fourth time, I had another realization. I didn’t know if it was disturbing or encouraging, but it really didn’t matter to me. I found myself surrounded by more family and friends in the tiny town of Bridgeport, Alabama than I’d had in the entire city of Atlanta.

  And it happened without a social network or a smartphone.

  Chapter 15

  Ties That Bind

  I could feel my heartbeat in my brain. I remembered the fourth time the jug came around. Everything after was a blur. My mouth was so dry I couldn’t lick a stamp to save my life.

  I eased myself up onto my elbows and surveyed the room. JD and Tucker were missing, but I had a good idea where they might be. I smiled as moments of the night before became more clear. It was worth every throb in my head.

  It took a few minutes for me to make it out of the cot and onto my feet. The first thing I noticed was the cold floor. The second thing I noticed was my breath. I could see it hanging in the air in front of me after I exhaled. (I wasn’t sure if it was the cold air or the vapors from the cherry gasoline coming out of me.)

  “Good morning, sunshine,” said Perry, walking inside from the platform.

  “I love you,” I said, accepting a hot cup of coffee.

  “I made extra,” said Perry. “I figured you boys were gonna need it.”

  “You figured right.”

  “I’ve got us a fire going out there,” said Perry, pulling up the collar on his jacket. “Looks like it’s gonna to be a cold one today.”

  I sat in front of the fire for a moment and finished my first cup. When I heard more movement from inside, I poured some warm water from the kettle into a bowl. After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I started to feel human again. I put on every piece of clothing I brought with me and returned to the fire. As I was pouring my second cup, JD and Tucker came strolling down the tracks.

  “Got any more of that?” asked Tucker, beaming.

  “Almost a full pot,” I said, handing them both a cup. “Are you two okay?”

  “Sure,” said Tucker. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because there are these weird things on your faces,” I said. “The corners of your mouths are stuck in your cheeks and I can see all your teeth. I think people call them smiles, but that can’t be right. You guys don’t do smiles.”

  “Jokes this early?” asked JD. “Are you still drunk?”

  “A little.”

  “I’m in love,” said Tucker, falling into a seat. “That woman did things to me I’ve never even heard of.”

  “That explains all the screaming,” said JD. “I just didn’t know it was you.”

  “Oh, it was all me, brother. I was scared for a minute, but then I just let it happen. I figured if it was my time to go, I couldn’t think of a better way to get there. I’m pretty sure she was trying to kill me.”

  “Did you get her number?” I asked.

  “More jokes,” said Tucker. “You thinking about a career change?”

  “Every day,” I said. “What about you, JD? Anyone try to kill you last night?”

  “No, sir,” said JD, smiling wider and leaning back in his chair. “But a few pieces of her furniture didn’t make it.”

  “We can change the subject now,” I said.

  “You asked.”

  “And I regret that now.”

  “Good morning, gentlemen,” said Gunny, walking up to the fire. “I take it you all had a good evening?”

  “Some better than others,” I said, “but yes. Thank you for your hospitality, Gunny. I have to admit we didn’t know what to expect when we got here. You and your people have been nothing but gracious and welcoming to us.”

  “These are good folks around here,” said Gunny. “It’s why I chose to come back after I retired from the military. My plan was to buy a few acres, build the home I’ve always dreamed about, and coast through the rest of my days in peace.”

  “Sorry those plans didn’t work out,” said Tucker.

  “Two out of three ain’t bad, son,” said Gunny, pouring a cup. “I’m still hopeful the third will eventually happen.”

  “So are we,” said JD.

  One by one, the rest of the men joined us outside. It took a little longer than normal for most of them to clear the fog. The jug hadn’t passed by any of them without a pull last night. That would’ve been rude.

  Uncle Perry came outside and spoke with Gunny away from the group. They wanted to go over their notes before presenting the information to the town. They both knew the best policy was to tell them the truth. The people would know if they weren’t.

  Most of the locals were already inside the high school gym. It was small in comparison to a city school, but there was more than enough room for those who chose to stay in Bridgeport. It didn’t go unnoticed by my uncle that the number of people in attendance was down from the last meeting. I stood with him and Gunny behind the podium on the raised platform that was rolled out onto the basketball court.

  “Is this everyone?” asked Perry.

  “Pretty much,” said Gunny. “We still have men at the bridge and near the off-ramp at the interstate. Those are the two most popular places refugees try to sneak by us.”

  “How many men are out there?” I asked.

  “Fifteen at the interstate and five at the bridge,” said Gunny. “There’s usually a few more, but I wanted as many people here today as possible.”

  “It just seems like there were a lot more here last time,” said Perry.

  “That’s because there were,” said Gunny. “We’ve lost about sixty since then.”

  “Sixty,” I said, making sure I heard the right number. “How?”

  “The weather, sickness, and a few unaccounted for,” said Gunny. “I guess they thought they might be better off somewhere else. But most of them died on the line. We lost seven men at once just three weeks ago. We think it was a group from South Pittsburg. They were all killed, so we don’t know for sure. All we do know is that they put up one hell of a fight.”

  “Nobody from town mentioned that last night,” I said. “That’s a lot of people, Gunny.”

  “They were just happy to see our neighbors from the south,” said Gunny. “I guess they didn’t want to ruin the evening with that kind of talk. They want to make sure you come back.”

  I’m sure it wasn’t Gunny’s intent, but my uncle and I felt like shit. Most of us in Stevenson were worried that these people were going to ambush us and try to take the train. That couldn’t have been further from the truth. It was as if Bridgeport were the parents and Stevenson were the kids that they wanted to see visit more often. I don’t think it would have mattered to them if we showed up with an empty train. It only mattered to them that we showed up. The most valuable thing we brought them was reassurance that they were not alone.

  As Gunny spoke to the town, I was scanning faces in the stands. I found the one I was looking for. When the meeting was over, I made my way to it.

  “If it’s okay with you,” I said, extending my hand, “I’d like to try this again.”

  “Me too,” said Taylor, accepting my peace offering. “Looks like we’ve got bigger problems coming our way.”

  “If anyone can talk their way out of trouble, it’s my uncle.”

  “A lot of folks around here respect him,” said Taylor. “They seem to feel the same about you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah,” said Taylor. “They say you don’t back down from anything and that you gave yourself up for your family and that lady.”

  “That came very close to not working out for me,” I said. “It really was Stevenson that saved my as
s.”

  “It’s just that me and a few others started thinking you gave up on us,” said Taylor. “Didn’t help that you were the reason my cousin was killed. He was the only family I had left.”

  “I am sorry about that, Taylor. That preacher didn’t give us much of a choice.”

  “I know that now,” said Taylor. “Gunny sat me down and told me everything that happened. To be honest, I would’ve killed him myself after what he did.”

  “I wish you would’ve,” I said. “He really did try to set me on fire.”

  After we had finished burying the hatchet, Taylor introduced me to his friends. Most of them were in their late teens and early twenties. All of them should have been enjoying college instead of worrying about being invaded by an army from Tennessee.

  I made a promise to Taylor that when we finished our business with the militia, we’d be coming back to Bridgeport more often. After the last handshakes with my new friends, I turned to look for JD. He was easy to find. He and Tucker were standing in the middle of a large group of locals.

  Honesty may have been the best policy when Gunny brought the town up to speed on recent events, but naming JD as the man who started the trouble made me nervous. He wasn’t a local and could be seen as the primary reason why a hundred pissed off soldiers might be on their way to Bridgeport. My mind was put at ease as I made my way through the crowd and saw nothing but approval.

  “Those animals needed to be put down,” said a local, shaking JD’s hand.

  “I have a daughter the same age as that little girl they murdered,” said another. “I hope they do come looking for a fight ‘cause by God they’ll find one here.”

  At that moment, I knew Bridgeport was going to be fine. Even if the militia was able to survive the ambush, fight through our lines, and cross the bridge, they still had the town to deal with. There weren’t enough of them to take it.