by D W McAliley
"And if I'm not?" Marcus asked.
The prisoner stared at him dead in the eyes without flinching. "You'll end up chained to a chair. Waiting."
Marcus couldn't bear the weight of the man's eyes, so he turned and left the room, the Chief close behind him. The prisoner's haunting laughter followed them up the empty hallway.
Ch.64
Unexpected Guests
Mike woke up slowly, and he fought it every step of the way. Someone was pulling hard on his right arm, and he could dimly hear his name being whispered over and over again with a sense of urgency.
"Mike, Jesus, wake up," Alyssa growled in an angry whisper. "Someone's beating on the doors. We need to go, now!"
Mike sat up as quickly as he could and groaned at the pain in his legs and his lower back. "What do you mean someone?"
"I don't know. There's a couple we saw walking down the road toward us. It's dark outside, and we think they saw a light in the window," Alyssa whispered. "Maria's on the third floor by a window to try and get a better look at them now, but we need to get to a hiding place in case they make it inside."
"Hide?" Mike asked, confused. "Look where we are, Alyssa. There's no hiding here. If it's someone that's after us or wants to do us harm, we got two choices; let 'em, or stop 'em."
"We're alone here, Mike," Alyssa whispered. "No one to back us up; no one to help."
"Exactly," Mike rasped, pulling himself slowly to his feet. "We're on our own. Now, you got a gun where you can get at it?"
Alyssa reached behind her and pulled out her Glock. She started to hand the pistol to Mike, but he shook his head. "Keep it until we get down stairs. Then I'll take that, and you and Maria go to the back fire exit. If you hear shots, then you know to run."
Alyssa helped Mike out into the hallway as fast as they could move. "Mike," she whispered, "we're not going to let you just stand there and get shot. We need to help you."
Mike shook his head. "You get out and you head north," he said, his voice growing stronger as he moved and woke up more fully. "Bennett, North Carolina. That's where you go."
Mike bent over in a bout of coughing that was loud and rough. "Mike you can barely stand on your own, still, and you don't have your strength. We can't—," Alyssa cut off when Mike straightened and shook his head emphatically.
"Find the Tillmans," Mike said, "I know their son Eric."
Alyssa took a deep breath but decided not to argue with him. Instead, she helped him down the hallway to the main stairs. They could hear the booms on the door growing louder with each step, and before they reached the door, they could hear dim voices shouting on the other side.
Mike took the gun from Alyssa's holster and straightened himself. "Alyssa, take Maria and go, please. If we end up having to fight or run, all I'm going to do is slow you two down and get you killed. I won't have that weighing on me, understand? You've both already risked too much by staying behind when the others left."
Alyssa hesitated, and another heavy blow landed on the door, making her jump. She looked into Mike's eyes and could tell that he was serious. Short of dragging him back to the emergency exit with them, Mike had made up his mind to make his stand there. In his present state, Alyssa was fairly certain that she would be able to drag him if she really set her mind to it. But she'd probably hurt him in the process, and that was the last thing she wanted to risk.
"We'll be down the hall to the right with guns in our own hands," Alyssa said, her voice quiet, but hard. "If you think I'm going to go tuck tail and run, you haven't really figured me out yet. You get in trouble, start shooting. We'll come out and back you."
Mike blinked, a little taken aback. He started to reply, but Alyssa leaned forward and kissed him suddenly very hard, passionately. He was shocked at first and tried to pull away, but Alyssa wrapped her hands around his head and held him tightly.
After a moment, Mike relaxed into the kiss, but just then Alyssa pulled away. She turned and was down the hallway before Mike could even open his eyes. He blinked a few times and drew a deep breath to try and steady himself.
Another boom landed on the door, and Mike turned toward it. He took a deep breath, held the pistol at a low ready position with his right hand, and undid the locks holding the front doors closed. He backed up a few shaky steps and stood with the gun in both hands, but lowered, and he waited.
The metal doors to the Admin building opened in, and the one on the right opened slowly just a crack. A man's face appeared and peeked through cautiously. With a glance, his eyes took in Mike and the gun in his hands, and he swallowed.
"Don't give me a reason, and I won't use it," Mike said simply.
The man nodded and opened the door all the way. He stepped slowly through the door, careful to keep his hands clear of his body. "I don't want to be any trouble," the man said without introduction. "My wife and I are trying to get out of the city, head north. We just need a place to rest for a couple of days. We'll stay out of your way, if you're okay with it."
"Lots of houses empty," Mike said. "Why not pick one of those and set up shop for a night or two?"
The man shook his head. "Doesn't feel right making my bed in another man's home. If you don't want the company, we can leave, find another spot. Just didn't want to be alone is all."
Mike thought about it for a moment and lowered his gun. "You said it's just you and your wife?" Mike asked, and the man nodded. "You got your own food and water?"
"Some," the man said. "Enough that we won't have to bother you for anything, if that's what you're asking."
"Come on inside," Mike said as he lowered his gun. "My name is Mike, and there are two women here with me, Alyssa and Maria are sisters. You and your wife can stay a night or two here if you want. It's not much, but it's better than being out in the cold."
The man stuck his head outside and exchanged some muffled words, and then he stepped fully inside. He held the door for his wife and took one of their two backpacks from her. "My name is Arthur, and this is my wife Cheryl. And we certainly appreciate the hospitality. We've got a little food that we can share, if you want."
Mike smiled. "Funny, I was about to say the same thing. I think we're going to get along well, Arthur."
Alyssa and Maria came out from the hallway and made their own introductions. Alyssa shot Mike a few looks that said they'd probably be exchanging some heated words later. Then again they could have been from the kiss. As soon as Mike thought of that, his cheeks felt warm and he realized he was blushing. When he glanced over at Alyssa next, he noticed she was blushing too, and that made him feel better about the whole thing for some reason. As they walked down the hall, Alyssa automatically stepped up next to Mike and slipped her arm around his shoulders to support him.
Mike felt himself blush some more.
Thankfully, though, Arthur saw Mike struggling and frowned. "You sick, Mike?" he asked hesitantly.
"Got a cut and it got infected," Mike explained as he showed him his bandaged left forearm. "I'm getting over the infection, and it's a lot tougher than it sounds."
"I'll take a look at it later, if you want," Arthur said, pointing at the bandage.
"Are you a doctor, Arthur?" Maria asked, hopefully.
Arthur frowned and tilted his head to the side. "Well, yes and no," he replied, somewhat cryptically. "I am a doctor, but not the kind you're thinking about. I was a veterinarian for more than thirty years before I retired. I worked on animals, you see. Well, cows and horses mostly, but I opened six local clinics for pets along the way as well. Anyway, you'd be surprised how similar a horse is to a person; when you get right down to it—pigs too, for that matter."
Mike only half listened as Arthur started rambling on about the beautiful horses he'd treated in the area around Asheville years ago. It was comforting to have more people around again, though Mike was shocked to find himself thinking so. He'd always been more of a private person until recently, but he found that he didn't like being alone nearly as much as he had in t
he past. As they walked, Mike glanced over at Cheryl, and frowned. There was something about the woman that seemed vaguely familiar. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but Mike would have sworn he had met her or seen her before.
He made a mental note to ask her where in Charlotte they were from when he got a moment, but Arthur's story about horses evolved slowly into a tale about a full barnyard menagerie that he'd treated out on the Virginia coast for an eccentric millionaire. The man seemed to have a never ending string of animal anecdotes, but he told them well and with personality.
Still, by the time they got back to the infirmary, Mike was exhausted, and all thoughts of questions had gone right out of his head. He lay down on the bed and pulled the two micro-fleece blankets up to his chin.
Arthur came up and set a small rolling exam table with a towel on it next to the bed. He clicked on a tiny pocket flashlight with a surprisingly bright LED, and stuck it in his teeth. "Now," he mumbled around the light, "let's take a look at that arm."
Mike tried to stay awake to watch the doctor work, but he was too tired. The excitement and the trip down and back up the stairs had taken more out of him than he realized. In a matter of moments, he was snoring softly in the doctor's ear.
Ch.65
Sunrise and Smoke
Eric stood with Brant on the western edge of the upper pasture and watched the sun sitting halfway up on the opposite horizon. The sky was crystal clear overhead, and a stiff wind brought a biting chill out of the north. Far to the south, the last edges of the cloud cover that had rained on them for more than three days were just barely visible as they rode the northern cold front out of the area.
"You remember when we used to go cat fishing down in the river?" Brant asked, breaking the silence that had stretched between them.
Eric snorted. "Yeah, for the most part," he replied. "Once we both got in high school, there's a few that get a little fuzzy."
"We always tried to be the last one to get in the river before it got too cold," Brant said with a half smile. "You got pneumonia one year because you jumped in halfway through January."
Eric laughed so hard tears rolled down his face. "Yeah, I can't believe I did that," he said once he regained control of himself. "That was rough. I was out of school for two weeks. I won your twenty bucks, though."
"It's crazy how many times I've wanted to go back to those days the past few years," Brant said, shaking his head and digging at a tuft of grass with his boot. "I never really thought we'd be back, not once we got out of here. Hell, you practically disappeared for the first three years after high school."
Eric nodded reluctantly. "A lot happened that last year of school, and I didn't really know how to take it," he admitted. "I guess I just needed to get away, put it behind me."
Silence fell between them again, and neither seemed ready to break it. They both knew what Eric was talking about, but they'd never mentioned it openly before. As the sun climbed higher in the eastern sky, the cows broke the silence for them and started mooing loudly to each other. Some of the younger calves who hadn't seen a full year yet chased each other through the wet grass, their breath steaming in and out of their wide nostrils.
"Do you talk to her much?" Eric asked after watching the calves for a moment.
Brant shook his head and turned to look south, away from his friend. "We broke up two weeks into our freshman summer," he answered. "She met some guy in one of her classes, and just like that she was gone. I saw her a little bit around campus, but we never even really talked after that. I hate how it all went down, you know. I wish I could go back and...I don't know, do it different."
"Water under the bridge, man," Eric said, patting his friend's shoulder roughly. "Bigger things to worry about now, right?"
Brant nodded, but he didn't speak for a while. "Christina seems nice," he said finally. "I'm glad you found someone."
"You will too, Brant," Eric said, frowning.
Brant snorted hard and shook his head. "You looked around lately, Eric? There weren't that many girls around here when we were growing up, and the options ain't exactly looking better now. The only people around here that I know for a fact are still breathing are your family, dudes and married women, or girls a good fifteen years younger than me."
"You forgot the cows," Eric said with a smirk.
Brant shoved him and shook his head, and Eric laughed again. It was good to bridge the gap that had grown between them over the years. They'd both had their part in burning that bridge years ago, and it had taken both of them to rebuild it. Eric had spent so long consciously ignoring how much he missed Brant's friendship that he'd convinced himself it wasn't that big a deal to lose it. It had taken them more than a month to come face to face with the ghosts of their past that still forced an awkward distance between them even now. It finally felt like that old childhood friendship was back as strong as it had been when they were in grade school.
"Come on," Brant said, pulling Eric's sleeve. "Your turn to climb the stand and take a look around while I sit around and watch cows chew grass."
Eric grumbled, but he followed Brant across the north end of the pasture to a tall solitary pine tree that stood just a few feet outside the barbed wire fence. The pine was old, and it had stood for longer than the pastures themselves had been around. The thick, straight trunk was bare for the first sixty feet, and then a thick brush of limbs and pine needles filled the top third.
One of Brant's two-piece deer stand was attached to the bottom of the tree, and the two pieces could be used to inch up the trunk until the branches made it impossible. Eric checked the steel cables that held the top and bottom halves of the stand to the tree, and he pulled on both ends of the three foot long piece of para-cord that tied them together. He'd had the bottom of a deer stand fall out from under him before, and the only thing that kept it from dropping twenty feet to the forest floor was a rope tying it to the top part of the stand. It was not an experience he wanted to repeat.
Satisfied that the stand was secure, Eric handed his rifle over to Brant and climbed into the deer stand. He stood on the bottom platform and slipped his feet into a pair of straps. Eric lifted the top half of the stand with his arms and sat down hard on the cross bar to drive the wedge-shaped blades into the tree trunk. Then he pulled the bottom half up with his legs and kicked it into place. In that fashion he inched his way up the tree trunk a foot or two at the time. It wasn't an easy process, and despite the cool breeze, Eric could feel cold sweat running down his back by the time he reached the first branches and had to stop.
Eric kicked the bottom of the stand into place as hard as he could and tested it gingerly before gaining the confidence to put his full weight on it. He dug the top half of the stand in just as hard in case he had to grab it to keep from falling. The breeze swayed the top of the pine tree much more than the bottom, and when Eric turned away toward the pasture he had to close his eyes for a moment to keep from getting dizzy.
Once his stomach settled, Eric opened his eyes and scanned the horizon around him. From this high up he could see over the tops of most of the younger trees around the pasture and clear to the water tower on the outskirts of Bennett a few miles away. When he looked in the direction of town, Eric froze and felt a cold chill run up his spine that had nothing to do with the sweat and the wind.
"Brant, you'd better get one of the horses ready," Eric called down.
"Why?" Brant called back. "What's going on? What do you see?"
Eric watched as a thick black column of smoke, hidden by the early morning darkness and the tree line, climbed into the sky over the town.
"Bennett's burning," Eric whispered.
Ch.66
Small World
Mike turned the can opener carefully, holding the can as well as he could in his left hand. The strength was getting better in that hand, but it still shook when he tried to do more than grip something. Early in the morning it hurt, and at the moment it was all he could do to grip the can and keep it f
rom slipping out of his grasp and spilling their breakfast all over the gray tile floor. A small propane camp stove was on low and the pot was just starting to get warm.
There was a little bit of salt cured bacon dried and cut up in cubes on a wooden cutting board. Mike dropped the bacon and a half a chopped onion into the pot and they started to sizzle. The fat in the bacon rendered out, and the smells from the pot became mouthwatering quickly. Mike sprinkled in a pinch of ground black pepper and then stirred the mixture with a long handled wooden spoon.
"Smells good," Arthur whispered, stepping out of one of the administrative offices down the hall. He was dressed in a white t-shirt and dark blue work pants with black boots. "Bacon?"
Mike nodded. "The ladies cured some with a good salt rub before it went bad. I figured this was a special occasion."
The onions were starting to turn translucent, so Mike stirred in the Beenie Weenies, keeping the makeshift stew moving in the pan so it wouldn't burn or stick. Once it was bubbling evenly, he turned the heat down to the lowest it would go, covered the pot, and set the spoon aside.
"So, what did my arm tell you?" Mike asked once the food was cooking.
"I understand Alyssa cleaned and stitched the wound herself," Arthur said. "She did a fair job, but it was a nasty cut. Clean, but deep, and it got infected before it got closed, but you know that. I think it will heal well enough, but you might have a little slight nerve damage from the infection. It might tingle a little from time to time, but that's about it. Once you work the strength back into it, you should be able to use it."
Mike breathed a sigh of relief and flexed the fingers of his left hand slowly. "I was worried about that," he said softly. "Being right handed, I don't think I ever knew how much I used my left hand until it was useless. I was starting to get worried it would stay that way."
"It's not going to be a pleasant road," Arthur said, "and it's going to take a lot of long hours of hard work strengthening those muscles and tendons again. Have you been through physical therapy before?"
