Half Past Midnight

by Jeff Brackett

  Pulling my hand away, I saw it stained shiny and red. I held it out toward Jim, and there were more screams as people saw the crimson coating. Jim struggled back to his feet just before I fell to my face.

  …so many holes..

  I heard the sounds of boots approaching and resisted the urge to move. They stopped beside me, and I felt someone reach down to check my pulse. “You all right?” Ken whispered.

  I answered without moving. “Just a little bruised. Forgot how much paintballs hurt at close range.”

  Ken grunted. “Okay, boys, pick him up and get him back to the factory. Make sure everyone gets a good look at all the red on him when you take him back. Leeland, you’re dead. Don’t move a muscle.” Four sets of hands grabbed my arms and legs, lifting me to shoulder height. I concentrated on being dead as they bore me back toward the factory.

  “The whole thing is iffy, at best,” I’d protested. “Too many things have to go just right. I mean, what if they get a good look at the pistols? What if they realize that they don’t quite sound the same as regular firearms? What if they don’t buy my acting, or Jim’s? There are so many holes in this plan that it isn’t funny, and if anything goes wrong, I’m dead. We’re all dead!”

  Ken looked at me, his frustration obvious. “So you got a better idea? Nobody’s forcing you into this. Jim and I are fully prepared to do it without you. You can still bow out.”

  “Bullshit! As bad a plan as it is, it would be even worse without me in it.”

  “Yes, it is. But it’s like Debra said, you’ve already done more than enough for this town, especially in the last couple of days. Nobody would think any less of you if you passed on this one.”

  “Except me.” I dropped my head and sighed. I looked back up at Ken. “Okay. The trick is going to be trying to keep Larry off balance. He’s too smart to fall for it if he has time to think about what’s going on.”

  He nodded, relieved to see I was finally rolling with it. “Suggestions?”

  “Piss him off … scare him. Do whatever we can to keep him reacting instead of thinking. Once the ball is rolling, he can’t get a second to gather his wits, or we’re all dead.”

  “And how do we do that?”

  “I’m going to remind him of our first meeting. I scared the hell out of him then, and it’s got to be eating away at that monster ego of his. I imagine that’s why he’s so insistent about getting his hands on me now.”

  Ken nodded. “Makes sense. I take it you have something in mind?”

  “Not really. Just gonna do like I did in the tank. I’ll start pushing buttons and see what happens.”

  Less than a dozen people knew I wasn’t really dead, and it was all I could do to remain still as they carried me through the stunned crowd to Jim’s office. Once behind closed doors, I opened my eyes and saw smiling faces all around me.

  “You didn’t tell me those things would sting so much,” Jim complained. “Still, I guess it’s better than the alternative. You look pretty lively for a dead man.”

  I smiled. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

  Debra brought over a couple of wet rags and helped me out of my shirt, tsking over the welts on my chest. “I’ve never understood your fascination with a sport that causes so many bruises.” She pulled my head down and kissed me soundly. “But just now, I’m not complaining.”

  As soon as I could stop grinning, I asked, “Where’s Ken?”

  “Right behind you.” He closed the door behind himself as he joined us. “I’ve been busy trying to calm everyone down. Had to let one more person in on the act, too.”

  I turned and found Amber staring at me as if she couldn’t decide whether to be relieved or furious to find me still alive. Finally, she decided on the former and came forward to hug me. “You scared the hell out of me!”

  “Good. Everybody’s reaction had to be natural if we were going to fool Larry.”

  Ken nodded. “Well, I’d say it worked. From what I could see out there, everyone is convinced you’re dead and Jim’s dying. Our people are all wondering what hit them.”

  Jim grinned. “Now, how about we hit back?”

  I felt the explosion more than heard it. The floor and walls shook with a ferocity that threatened to bring the building down around us and, as we ran out of Jim’s trailer, we saw that part of the building had, indeed, come down. The far end of the factory was a pile of rubble and swirling dust. People screamed and ran in all directions.

  “Oh God.” Amber rushed toward the wounded.

  “Leeland!” I turned and Ken tossed me my rifle.

  “This way!”

  I followed as he led us through the mob to one of the front bay doors. People hid behind old, rusted-out steel drums, wooden pallets, anything that presented cover while they fired ineffectually at the tank moving out onto the bridge.

  Ken immediately signaled them to follow. We made our way to the forefront, and several folks did a double take when they saw two dead men walking. Smiles and muttered comments passed through the crowd as they realized that we had somehow managed to fool Larry.

  A second explosion knocked me off my feet, and I saw several people thrown about like paper dolls in a high wind. Most landed without moving. The few able to move thrashed and screamed in anguish. The sounds of gunfire and screaming were once more all around me as Ken lead us to the fore of the skirmish.

  “Hold your fire!” he screamed. “Hold your fire!”

  I thought he was crazy at first. Hold your fire? While they bombed the hell out of us? But as more and more folks heeded his instructions, I understood. We were the only ones shooting. Larry’s goons lay on the ground on the other side of the bridge letting us waste precious ammunition. He had moved one of his tanks to the middle of the bridge, and the second was fully into the open, among his troops. The tank on the bridge was motionless and appeared to be waiting for something. When the shooting finally stopped, one of the top hatches opened, and a stick emerged waving a white rag.

  “They’ve gotta be kidding!” Ken was clearly enraged. “They expect us to accept a truce after this?” He raised his rifle, but Jim put a hand on his arm to stop him.

  “Wait. I need a couple of minutes. Just see what they want.” With that, the mayor pushed back through the crowd, leaving Ken and me to figure out what was going on.

  “What’s that all about?” I asked, but Ken only shrugged.

  “I have no idea, but let’s give him the time he needs.” He turned to the crowd. “You!” He singled out a young man in jeans and a dirty t-shirt. “I need your shirt, son.”

  Without hesitation, the guy stripped off the sweaty white shirt and tossed it to Ken, who draped it over the end of his rifle and walked away.

  At the beginning of the bridge, he stopped and waited for the soldier who had climbed out of the tank to walk the rest of the way to him. I watched with the others as they exchanged a few words, then the man handed Ken something and turned back to the tank.

  Ken returned holding another of Larry’s radios. “His Majesty is in the second tank.” He pointed to the tank in the clearing across the bridge. “Says he wants to talk to whoever’s in charge. Wants to talk about our surrender.”

  I grinned. “Well, hell! This should be fun.” I held out my hand, but Ken held back for a moment.

  “Don’t push him too hard, Lee. You remember how unstable he is?”

  I nodded. “I know, I know.”

  “And that he has tanks?”

  Again I nodded, less patiently this time. “Right, don’t piss off the crazy man with the tanks. Got it.”

  Ken hesitated a moment longer before finally handing me the walkie-talkie.

  I thought for a second before keying the mic. It was going to be a hell of a tightrope act. I had to keep him talking for a few minutes without enraging him to the point where he fired the cannons again. “Hello?”

  “This is General Lawrence Troutman of the United…” He paused. “Leeland?”

  “Yeah.
It’s me, Larry.” I figured I would keep it simple and get Jim the time he’d asked for before I started pushing his buttons again. “What do you want now?”

  There was about a ten-second pause before he answered, and I could only imagine the fit he was probably having over my survival. When he finally answered though, his voice was maliciously polite. “My, my, Leeland. Allow me to congratulate you on your fine acting skills. That was a wonderful performance you and your mayor put on for us. You truly had me fooled. I don’t suppose you would consider coming back to the bridge and doing an encore?”

  “Why would I do that? You already let our people go. I got what I wanted.”

  “But you know there were other people in that hospital. I suppose you don’t care about them?”

  I shook my head at his audacity. “You lying son of a bitch! You don’t have any more hostages. All you have are your troops on that side of the bridge, and your enemies over here.”

  “But, Leeland, there are more than fifty more of your people back at the hospital. How could you be so selfish?”

  “We already heard about the rest of the people at the hospital!” Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I thumbed the transceiver once more. “You think you could kill that many people and none of the others would notice? Or have you just reached the point where you can’t tell the truth from your own lies anymore?”

  Larry was silent for a few seconds, and I glanced around to see how the others were taking the discussion. I couldn’t afford to have any of them believe him. If they did, they might begin to feel that it was wiser to turn me over and take Larry at his word. From the expressions around me, I needn’t have worried.

  As the radio squawked back to life, I saw a ripple in the crowd that started at the perimeter and snaked its way toward me. I concentrated on my conversation, but watched to see what caused the commotion.

  “All right,” Larry said. “It was a futile attempt to fool you, I admit. It was worth a try, but I would have been surprised if it had worked. In fact, I think I would have been more than a little disappointed.” The ripple turned into a parting in the crowd as Jim returned leading two other men.

  “Let’s simply return to the original proposition, then. I will agree to let your little town go free if you will agree to turn yourself over to me.”

  I grinned when I saw the gear the mayor and his men carried. Looking up at Jim, I nodded understanding. I knew how to steer the conversation. “You think I’m about to believe you now? You think anyone here will? Every time you open your mouth, another lie falls out. I might have believed you once, but I know you better now. You can take your proposition and shove it.”

  “Are you certain, Leeland? Think of all the people you are consigning to death. Shouldn’t they have some say in this?”

  “Sorry, Larry, I’m tired of your mind games. It’s nothing more than some kind of ego-stroking for you-mental masturbation-and I’m not a voyeur.”

  “This is your last chance. Either you walk out and meet my man on the bridge right now, or I’m afraid you leave me with no other choice than to open fire on your facility.”

  Jim met my eyes. “Ready.”

  “I’m tired of talking, Larry, so let me put this in terms you can understand.” I pointed, and Jim touched the first pair of wires to the car battery he’d brought up.

  I saw the explosion a split second before I heard it. The screams and curses of Larry’s men reached us just as the first pieces of debris began hitting the water, and I saw most of Larry’s soldiers hit the dirt. Others panicked and bolted for the trees.

  “Damn,” Jim cursed, “wrong one!” Grabbing the next of what looked like a dozen pairs of wires, he touched them to the terminals, and the bridge almost directly beneath the tank exploded in a cloud of dust and rubble, actually lifting the tank a few feet before tumbling it sideways into the reservoir. Cheers erupted from our side, until people saw the second tank moving into better position.

  But the mayor was far from finished. He began touching one set of wires after another to the battery terminals. Explosions like land mines ripped through the enemy, indiscriminately throwing men and vehicles high into the air on the other side of the reservoir.

  Trees began to jump into the air and fall among the panic-stricken men. Jim had been busy burying Astrolite charges under some of the surrounding trees. A large pine fell across the front of the tank as it tried to maneuver for a shot, and I thought for a hopeful moment that it was trapped. With my heart in my throat, I watched it back out from under the fallen pine as if it were nothing and realized that I had greatly underestimated the power of the behemoth. Then, I saw its cannon.

  “Yeah!” It was curved in nearly a fifteen-degree bend. They would never be able to fire that thing ever again.

  The tank began a rapid retreat as Larry’s fear for his own safety overcame his obsessive desire for my head. He drove away, unheeding of the men on foot around him, and I saw a few of the slower ones crushed screaming beneath the treads as he fled.

  Cheers erupted again, and I joined them unabashedly. Pumping my fist in the air, I whooped and yelled. As I turned about to share the glory of the moment with those around me, I froze. Staggering toward me, tears streaming down her face, Debra came to my arms.

  “The second explosion…”

  The last several minutes flew through my head as I tried to make sense of what she had said. Larry and Han on the bridge, paintball guns, playing dead, Larry’s attack with the tank cannon, Amber rushing to help…

  …the second explosion…

  I gasped. “Amber?”

  Her sobbing was the only answer.

  Chapter 18

  August 21 / After the Battle

  Deux de poison saisiz nouveau venuz,

  Dans la cuisine du grand Prince verser:

  Par le soillard tous deux au faicts cogneuz

  Prins que cuidoit de mort l’aisne vexer.

  Two newly arrived have seized the poison,

  to pour it in the kitchen of the great Prince.

  By the scullion both are caught in the act,

  taken he who thought to trouble the elder with death.

  Nostradamus — Century 7, Quatrain 42

  The Battle of the Bridge was the beginning of a three-month war that forced us to take to the forest, leaving even the tentative sanctuary of the fertilizer factory behind. Larry had shown us all too well just how fragile its protection was. By day, he held the town and much of the surrounding forest. Using Humvees and the remaining two tanks, his men constantly patrolled the perimeter and kept us in hiding. After dark though, we were able to sneak in and do our damage under night’s black cloak.

  Night raids became the mainstay of our survival. Though Larry technically held the town, it was patently impossible for his men to guard every alley and side street in Rejas from the people who knew them best. We would sneak in at night using game trails and drainage ditches to scavenge the many stashes of supplies people had hidden in their homes before the USR amp;D takeover.

  While we were in town, it just wouldn’t have been polite to leave without dropping off some type of thank you gift for the boys in uniform. Usually it was something simple; a nail-tipped arrow in the tire of a Humvee was a favorite or, when we were able to get close enough, rice in the fuel tanks. Some of the boys got more creative, though.

  Mark Roesch got a group together and built a ten-foot slingshot out of surgical tubing. It took seven people to use it properly with two people bracing either end, two pulling back the pouch, and one loader. The giant slingshot could launch a Molotov cocktail into a group of vehicles or buildings from nearly half a mile away.

  Not to be outdone, Fred Williams and Mike Tanner, who had built custom irrigation systems before the turn of the century, designed the craziest-looking contraption I had ever seen. About four feet long, it consisted of three pieces of PVC pipe strapped together like a triple-barrel shotgun. On the front, a six-inch metal scale, mounted vertically, served as a gun
sight. The back end consisted of an intricate maze of valves, air nozzles, and pressure gauges connected by a hose to what appeared to be an old scuba tank.

  When they first brought it out to demonstrate, I was sharing a meal with my family-garden snails boiled in lard, wild onions, and a few other local herbs. The food wasn’t appealing at first, but was actually pretty tasty when you got past the thought of what you were eating. Williams and Tanner approached the camp, heading for the mayor’s lean-to. A crowd of curious onlookers followed, as if they just couldn’t wait to see what the crazy contraption strapped to Williams’ back was.

  Megan and Zachary raced to join the crowd, leaving Debra and me to catch up. We shouldered our way through the crowd in time to hear Jim put voice to what the rest of us were thinking. “What the hell is that thing?”

  “Air cannon.” Williams was a man of few words and, rather than verbal elaboration, he simply pointed his chin at a tree across the creek, some hundred yards downstream. “Watch.”

  He and Tanner conferred for a few seconds while the crowd milled about and speculated on what was about to happen. Debra and I took advantage of everyone’s restlessness to shoulder our way over to Jim’s side.

  Tanner, much more outgoing than his partner, warned, “Better stand back. We’ve only tested this thing two or three times, and it might just blow.” This caused some quick shuffling as folks took him at his word and gave the two men more room.

  Tanner pulled three round glass jars filled with water from a satchel and dropped one in each barrel. “Normally, we’ll be using Molotov cocktails or open cups of shrapnel instead of water. Right now, though, I don’t think we need to set the forest on fire.”

  Jim appeared to be as much in the dark as the rest of us, but must have felt the need to make some kind of semi-intelligent response. “Um, yeah.”

  Tanner stepped behind Williams and tapped him once on the head. Williams had already sighted his target and pushed the button mounted by his right hand.