Without II: The Fall

by E. E. Borton

  “Good point,” said JD. “You want us to come back your way or wait for you to catch up?”

  “Wait for us to catch up,” I said. “No sense in you covering the same ground twice.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” said JD. “It’s better if we travel in a group. Tucker and I can handle a few extra steps.”

  “I get your point,” I said, “but I’d feel better knowing you two were between us and any militia guns. If you see them on the road moving toward us, hustle back and we’ll set up the ambush here. If we’re bunched in a group and walking down the road, we won’t have enough time to get Daniel into cover and set up our kill zone.”

  “Okay,” said JD. “That makes more sense. That also means we can’t leave tracks on the road.”

  “Correct,” I said. “I need you two in ghost mode.”

  Chapter 41

  Math

  “Get up, you piece of shit!”

  I broke the rule that nobody can break. I was going to pay for it with my life. I was going to pay with the lives of Doug and Daniel as well. I fell asleep on watch.

  I wanted JD and Tucker to get as much rest as possible before they left on their scouting run. Instead of a two-hour rotation between the three of us, I decided to take all the shifts until it was time for them to leave. I patrolled a few hundred yards up and down the road until the cold became unbearable. I would then come into camp, tend to the fire, and warm up before going back out. I thought I could handle it. I couldn’t.

  I remembered waking them and having a bite to eat before they headed out. I did another patrol as the sky started to turn from black to dark blue. I was exhausted and sat by the fire to fight off the chill that had made its way down to my bones. I don’t remember anything after. It was my turn to fuck up.

  The voice was behind me. There were three more men standing at the opening to the tent with rifles pointed inside. They understood the advantage of camouflage as well. They looked like us.

  “I told you to get up,” said gun one, kicking the back of my leg.

  As I stood, Doug came out of the tent with his hands in the air. He told them his brother was hurt, but they didn’t care. They yanked Daniel off his backpack bed and onto his one good leg. He hopped and then used Doug’s shoulder to steady himself. They both stared at me with confusion on their faces, but it quickly became obvious to them what had happened.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, clenching my jaw as the voice bound my hands behind me.

  It’s all I could think to say. We depended on each other for our lives. My mistake would cost them theirs. The thought of letting them down was more painful than the thought of what the strangers were going to do to me.

  They had already taken my rifle that was lying beside me while I slept. With my hands tied, they then relieved me of my pistol and knives. They did the same to Doug and Daniel.

  Why bother to wake us? We would’ve been easier to kill in our sleep. Why are we still alive?

  “We thought about cutting your fucking throats while you slept, but then you wouldn’t have known who killed you or why,” said gun one, answering my questions as if he heard my thoughts. “Get over there with them.”

  Their weapons were clean and well maintained. Their eyes were sharp and their hands steady. They moved with nods and hand signals. These men didn’t stumble across us on the road. We were being hunted.

  I noticed their footprints coming out of the woods from the south. We were heading north. They weren’t from Castle’s group, or JD and Tucker would have spotted them. I didn’t recognize any of them from the Chattanooga militia, so they weren’t Conner’s men. When it hit me, I lowered my head and exhaled. These men weren’t hunting us for what we were going to do. They were hunting us for what we did.

  “My name is Mike. I’m the man who’s going to kill you. Did you even know her name?”

  “Whose name?” asked Doug.

  “Of course not,” said Mike, smiling. “What about her mother? Her father? Her uncle?”

  “Oh my God,” said Doug, having his epiphany and dropping his head. “No. We didn’t know their names. They didn’t give us a chance to ask.”

  “I’ve seen things,” said Mike. “Things I’ll never understand. I want to; I really do. So help me out with this one. What could you possibly gain from shooting a defenseless six-year-old girl in the back of the head?”

  “We didn’t,” I said.

  “Well, I guess I should’ve known you were going to lie to save your own skin,” said Mike. “Trust me, that’s not going to happen. You’re going to die here. The only question is how long you’re going to suffer. That’s up to each of you. I’ll add an hour of pain for each time you lie. Sound good to you?”

  “We have no reason to lie,” said Doug.

  “No,” said Mike. “You have every reason. You see, sick fucks like you get off on it. You lie your way into the home of a good family who would’ve helped you. You rape and torture their women after you murder their men. You steal what little they have because their camping gear and food is worth more to you than human life. But I still don’t understand how you can kill a beautiful little girl. How?”

  Our situation was bad, but it just got worse. I thought about how many times I had given a similar speech to a monster I was about to kill. I did it because I wanted them to know what they had done before I sent them to the next world.

  “Add another hour,” I said, “because we didn’t kill that little girl.”

  “Tabitha,” said Mike. “Her name was Tabitha. She made us call her Tabby because that girl loved everything about cats. Her mother was named Kristina, but she went by Kris. She nursed my wife back to health after she caught pneumonia. Kris was a doctor and a damn good one. She helped a lot of people.”

  “You’ve got this all wrong,” said Doug.

  “Tabby’s dad worked for the water department when there was one,” said Mike, stepping closer to Doug. “So did her Uncle Aaron. He was Kris’s brother and had a bigger heart than all of you assholes put together. Dave and Aaron loved and adored Tabby. We all did.”

  “We begged them to move closer to us,” said Mike, moving in front of Daniel. “They refused. Tabby was born and raised in that house. They wanted to keep her life as normal as possible. They thought they would be safe there. I told Dave that eventually something less than human would show up at his door.”

  “Something like you,” said Mike, stepping in front of me. “I told him they would be wolves in sheep’s clothing. I told him they’d lie their way inside. I warned him that when they saw his beautiful wife and daughter, the wolves would take them. They’d do unspeakable things to them and then toss them away like garbage.”

  “I feel responsible for this,” said Mike, walking around to the other side of the fire. “We were planning on coming to get them after the first snowstorm. I wasn’t going to take no for an answer this time. I knew they’d be safer with us. We were about to leave when the second storm hit. We decided to wait it out. That’s all the time you needed.”

  He jammed the blade of my hunting knife into the hot coals. His men came around behind us. Daniel was the first to be forced to his knees.

  “I’m going to take your eyes,” said Mike, staring into the fire. “I want you to suffer in darkness like they did. I thought about taking your tongues next, but I think I’d rather hear your begging for your lives. The thing about a hot blade is that it cauterizes most of the vessels so you don’t bleed out too fast, but all the pain is there.

  “You see, I’ve learned some things. I’ve had to do things I’m not proud of, but they were necessary to keep good people safe. Men like you force me to do these things. I know this won’t bring Tabby and her family back, but I do know you won’t be hurting anyone else. None of you.”

  It was like I was looking into a mirror. The problem with that was, I was on the wrong side of me. It didn’t matter. My life was no longer in my hands, but then I caught movement out of the corner of my eye a
short distance up the hill. Movement I was meant to see.

  “We killed them,” I said, feeling all hope evaporate from Doug and Daniel.

  “Someone doesn’t want to suffer,” said Mike, letting the blade get hotter. “I was kidding about that by the way. You will.”

  “You want the truth,” I said, “I’m giving it to you. I know you’re going to kill us, and I know I can’t reason with you. I can only tell you what happened. Whether or not you choose to believe me is up to you.”

  “Choose those words wisely,” said Mike, waiting for the blade to turn white hot. “You know they’re going to be your last.”

  “We were on the road,” I said. “We’re heading north to intercept the general of the militia and kill him. He tried to overrun our town, but we stopped him. He escaped.”

  “Seriously,” said Mike. “These are your last words? A story?”

  “We were near the house when the storm hit,” I said. “We had no intention of hurting or stealing from them. We just needed shelter. In other circumstances, if it were occupied, we’d find somewhere else to go. That storm didn’t give us any time. We either got inside or we died.

  “I was the only one on the porch when I knocked on the door. It was answered with a shotgun blast. My men opened fire and killed them. We went upstairs to clear the rooms. There was one with the door closed. We were about to go in when we heard a single shot. Another followed a few seconds after. We didn’t kill Tabby. Her mother did and then shot herself.”

  I could feel the rage boiling inside of him. It didn’t matter if he believed me or not. The end result was the same. It was our fault.

  “You expect me to believe you just walked up and knocked on the door?” said Mike. “Like you were a neighbor asking for a cup of sugar?”

  “It’s the truth,” said Doug. “I have a little girl about Tabby’s age. All I thought about was my baby when I walked into that room. It tore my heart out of my chest. Maybe we deserve this, but he’s telling you the truth. I swear on my daughter’s life, it’s the truth.”

  “There’s no way Kris killed Tabby,” said Mike, shaking his head. “No way she could’ve done that. I changed my mind. I am going take your lying tongues out.”

  “How many sets of footprints were you tracking?” I asked.

  “What?” asked Mike, looking over at me as he pulled the blade out of the coals.

  “You heard me,” I said. “When you came out of the house, you looked for footprints to see which direction we went. How many did you see?”

  He looked confused. He knew how many prints there were in the snow when he left the house to track us down, but he was more focused on the sitting ducks sleeping out in the open in the middle of the road. It was his turn to fuck up.

  “Five,” I said. “There were five sets. The math doesn’t add up, does it?”

  “Don’t worry,” said Mike, noticing the footprints leading away from the camp. “We’ll find them too.”

  “I haven’t lied to you, Mike. Every word has been the truth. These words are true as well, and you need to pay attention to them. They’ve already found you.”

  Mike started scanning the tree line. I turned my head to see his men behind us doing the same. I knew they wouldn’t see them.

  “I’m going to keep telling you the truth, Mike. Those two are ghosts and they don’t miss. They grew up hunting in these woods. You won’t see it coming. You’re still alive because they can see that we’re still talking.”

  “You’re full of shit,” said Mike. “I’ve heard enough out of you.”

  “Mike, turn around and walk away from us. It’s the only way you’ll ever see your families again. You and I both know that they need you. You’re a good man with a good heart, and I don’t want to watch you die. You turn around and they won’t shoot. You have my word.

  “They’re good men with good hearts as well. But if you come at me with that knife, your head will explode. The same will happen to the man behind Doug. The other two won’t worry about the unarmed guys in front of them, and they’ll turn to shoot back. They won’t see it coming either. Think about your men and their families. I’m begging you, Mike. Just turn around and go home. Make the right choice.”

  He didn’t.

  After his second step, the bullet going through his brain took him off his feet. At the same time, the man behind Doug fell over him as Daniel and I dove to the ground. When the other two swung their rifles around to shoot back, they didn’t see it coming.

  Chapter 42

  The Good Guys

  I was lying facedown in the snow. With my hands tied behind my back, my face was the only thing I could use to break my fall. It was so quiet I could hear my heartbeat as I turned my head to take a breath. Mike was a few feet away from me. We could have passed as brothers.

  We didn’t need another reason to be confused about how to stay sane in our crazy world, but we got it anyway. I wondered how any of us would survive another day on the road. Even if we did, what would we look like when we returned home? We weren’t just killing bad people anymore. We were killing women, children, and good men who were trying to protect them. We were killing ourselves.

  “Who were they?” asked JD, cutting away my restraints.

  “The good guys,” I said, getting to my feet. “They were friends of the family we killed.”

  “I figured as much,” said JD, “or they would’ve killed you before we got back. How’d they get the jump on you?”

  “He was asleep,” said Doug, helping his brother. “That’s how.”

  “Goddammit, Henry,” said JD. “I told you to wake me up.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, looking over at Doug.

  “No,” said Doug, looking down at the bodies in the snow. “They are. Their families will be too when they figure out they’re not coming home because you needed a nap.”

  “Easy, Doug,” said JD. “He took our watch last night so we could get some rest. Took yours too.”

  “Don’t do me any more favors, Henry,” said Doug, taking his brother back inside the tent.

  “I deserved that,” I said, picking up my warm knife.

  “Yep,” said JD. “You know you can’t be doing that. We all need to share the load.”

  “Another lesson learned,” I said. “A little too late for them.”

  “Even if you did spot ‘em,” said JD, “they was gonna fight to the end.”

  “We don’t know that,” I said.

  “We would’ve,” said JD. “If they did what we did to that family, we would’ve.”

  Our hillbilly philosopher was right again. We would have. Just as we were going to hunt down Castle at all costs, we would have hunted them.

  “I’m glad you saw me before they did,” said JD. “I didn’t like exposing myself like that.”

  “How long were you up there?”

  “Not long,” said JD. “About the same time they walked into the camp. I was about to take a shot after he kicked you, but Tucker wasn’t in position. When we saw everyone start talkin’ to each other, we figured we’d let it play out. Also figured you needed to know we was up here.”

  “I appreciate you not listening to me,” I said.

  “How’s that?”

  “I told you to wait for us to catch up with you,” I said, smiling.

  “I wasn’t comfortable with that,” said JD. “Just had a feeling, you know.”

  “I’ve been saying this to you a lot lately, but thank you,” I said.

  “You’re welcome,” said JD.

  “Did you come across anything?” I asked.

  “Nope,” said JD. “We followed a game trail up on the ridge and got to the edge of that town faster than we expected. Didn’t see any prints along the road or nobody moving around. My guess is that they’re still holed up somewhere in a house up there for now.”

  “I doubt for long,” I said. “If we can move, so can they. They’re close to home, and they’ll be anxious to get there.”

 
“How’s Daniel’s leg?” asked Tucker, joining us.

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  “He can move,” said Doug, coming out of the tent. “I suggest we take the same trail up on the ridge. It’ll take him a little time to get up there, but we know it’s clear.”

  “We could see the road almost the entire way,” said Tucker. “Plenty of cover for Daniel if we need to hide him.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Let’s get ready to move.”

  “Do you think they heard the shots?” asked Tucker.

  “I don’t think so,” said JD. “They’re over two miles away, and this terrain would’ve absorbed the noise. I guess there’s a chance, but it’s a slim one. They were all probably still indoors as well. Naw, I think we’re good.”

  JD and Tucker started spreading the weight of Daniel’s gear. He could still wear his pack, but we’d make it as light as possible. His ankle was swollen, but we were able to lace up his boot. Doug made his ankle more rigid by lashing sticks around his boot with strips of cloth and twine. He winced when he put pressure on his injured leg, but was able to take small steps unassisted.

  I reached into my pack, pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen, and handed it to Daniel. He needed those little gems more than I did. I took advantage of the dying fire and heated up some water while the drugs worked their magic. It didn’t feel like it was getting any colder outside, but it wasn’t getting any warmer either. A hot cup of anything would be appreciated.

  After camp was broken and our packs were full, we sat around the hot coals to absorb the last waves of heat. We ate strips of cured meat and anything else that would give us the energy we needed for a long trek. I offered Doug a piece of jerky and he took it, but he kept his gaze on the coals. It made me uncomfortable.

  “I know you didn’t mean to fall asleep,” said Doug, breaking the silence and easing my tension.

  “You have every right to be pissed, brother,” I said. “More than I am at myself. It won’t happen again.”