A series of cables on stations popped up, fencing off the whole front of the truck stop. Now the front of the complex had a four foot high barrier fence which kept everyone who drove up some fifty yards from the fuel pumps. The two vehicles slowed to a stop.
A voice over a sound system boomed, “Sorry, closed for business. Illness in the family. Need to quarantine the area.” Cal was laying it on thick, even though he knew it was probably too late.
Someone answered from the SUV using a small electronic megaphone. “We know they’re in there. Just send them out.” It was the voice of Talbot. Damn. ‘No good deed goes unpunished,’ thought Torbin. He realized too late that he probably should have shot them all and let God sort it out.
“Sorry, closed for business. That includes trading.” Cal shot back. Torbin heard some discussion from the two vehicles as the men got out of the vehicles on the far side, too far away to hear what was being said clearly. Torbin saw a couple of AR-15 clones, a lever action rifle, and a pump shotgun in the hands of the four new Krakens. He saw Talbot leaning against the backside of the SUV. Next to him was Skinny, his nose taped. The other two wounded Kraken were probably lying down.
Talbot clearly gave an order of some kind, as the man carrying the lever action plus the one carrying the shotgun approached the front of the Café/Store, the two other riflemen providing cover. Torbin leaned far enough around the corner of the building to get a sight picture and let loose with the remaining barrel of the shotgun. He knew the spread and distance was such that the blast would not have a large effect. He was just trying to get the Krakens to re-evaluate their moves—was Torbin really worth getting shot for?
The Kraken biker with the lever action let out a yelp of pain as a piece of shot impacted his left cheek. A couple of other lead shots from the double ought buck load smacked into the rear fender of the SUV. All of the Krakens quickly went back to cover behind the vehicles.
“Hey Talbot!” Torbin yelled. “Do you really want to do this? Do you want more screwed up biker buddies?”
Talbot yelled back. “Fuck you, and that Mormon bitch. Come on out or we’ll burn you out!”
Damn. Torbin did not want to drag Cal and his family into this, but now it was too late. He saw Talbot talking to Skinny, who had bandaged face. Torbin set the empty shotgun down and drew his .44. He knew Abigail would be on the other flank, so they would have a nice crossfire for anyone who tried to advance. He could also guarantee that Cal and family would be gunned up as well.
Talbot handed something to Skinny. Then, as the two ARs began taking pot shots at the truck stop and Torbin’s position, the Kraken quickly stepped out from behind the vehicles, lighting a Molotov cocktail in a wine bottle. Torbin was trying to aim in on Skinny while ignoring the angry bees zipping by when a shot from Abigail’s position rang out. Skinny had just cocked his arm to throw the gasoline bomb when it exploded in his hand. He went up like a 4th of July firecracker. The Kraken gang member began screaming and running in circles as his fellows screamed at him to drop and roll.
A large caliber rifle discharged from the front of the store, and the burning man toppled to the ground. Cal still had the PA system activated when he said “Nice shot, Mother.” She just did Skinny a favor—Torbin had been thinking of letting him burn. Just then, Torbin heard the distant but closing yelp of a siren. The Response Unit was nearby. He yelled at Talbot, “Time to fish or cut bait, asshole. We have just as many shooters as you do. So hurry. I wanna have lunch here at the café. They make a mean hamburger.”
Talbot started to curse up a blue storm when his remaining fighters began to argue with him. They had heard the siren as well and knew that more men with guns were nearby and getting closer. Finally, he gave in. “This ain’t over, Torbin. I’ll be back.”
Torbin laughed loudly. “Hey, that line worked for Arnold, but it sounds wimpy coming from you. Hurry up and slink back to that shithole you call a home. You bore me.”
If not for his shot foot, Torbin was sure Talbot was mad enough to run screaming at him, throwing rocks, and spitting. Instead, his Kraken bikers helped him into the SUV. Within a minute, both vehicles’ tires were squealing as they made hard turns and took off in the opposite direction. Torbin watched them leave, making sure they weren’t trying some feint. They soon disappeared from sight. Satisfied, he went inside to check on everyone.
Mother Jean was wrapping a bandage around her daughter’s left arm, fussing. “I told you to stay down. See, you got hit with a ricochet.”
“Mother, it’s just a scratch. I’ve had paper cuts worse than this.”
Abigail saw the wounded woman as she walked through the front door. Her face went white with rage and she made a beeline outside. “Oh, shit.” Torbin dashed to catch her. The Avenging Angel was moving so fast that Torbin didn’t catch her until she was in the parking lot.
“Hey Abigail. You can’t catch them on foot. They’ve already left.” Abigail spun around and began screaming. “Those beasts tried to kill my new friends! They need to be sent to burn in hell for all eternity!”
The years of pent up stress were finally beginning to crack the young warrior’s hard self-armor. Even the most mature soldier has certain breaking points. A child soldier was no better.
Abigail had tears of rage streaming down her face. Torbin did not want to touch her for fear of eliciting a violent reaction. Then, two figures brushed by him: mother Jean and Pamela.
“Hey, Abigail. It’s just a scratch. See? Mother covered it with a simple bandage.”
Jean put her arm around the Deseret warrior. “Come on, dear. It’s time for that tea we promised you. Come into our café. You can sit down with me and a cup of some herbal tea I have, sweetened with natural honey. A neighbor of ours down the road keeps bees. Now, please come with me…” Jean gently walked Abigail back into building. Torbin stood helpless. He knew men, he did not know women. He headed to the lookout tower. “Hey, Jimmy. You okay?”
The sixteen year old stuck his head out from behind the reinforced tarp. “Captain Bender. Glad to meet you. I’m fine, although I wasn’t able to get a shot off. You took care of them too fast.”
“Well, we stopped them from getting too close. Maybe next time you can have some fun.”
“Can I ask a question?”
“Sure, Jimmy, go ahead.”
“Is it true you killed a Squid with a combat knife?”
Torbin laughed. Damn. News travels fast. “After a fashion, yes. And shot a few too.”
“You know you’re famous now, don’t you, Captain Bender?”
Torbin shook his head. One minute, he was just a Marine battling the enemy, the next he was being sucked into some artificial caricature of himself as people grabbed for some type of hero legend. Why couldn’t it have been someone else? “Jimmy, I was just doing my job as part of a team. Without teamwork, nothing works.”
The young man had a slight look of disbelief, but he did not argue. “Sure, Captain. But everyone thinks killing a Squid with a knife is cool.”
Torbin chuckled. He couldn’t argue with youthful exuberance.
“Excuse me, young man. I need to check in with your father.” He returned to the café and was met by Cal at the double doors.
“Torbin, Abigail is trying to handle a shitload of combat stress. How long has she been soldiering?” Torbin hesitated before answering.
“From about age twelve, until she turned eighteen yesterday. She’s been trained and groomed to be an Avenging Angel.”
He saw Cal’s jaws tighten. “Whose bright idea was that? What asshole decided child warriors like in Africa were a good idea? Kids have enough problem just surviving since the Invasion, without being forced into a young life of fighting and killing.”
He gestured toward the lookout tower. “Jimmy has been doing security for a year, but he is definitely not trained for extended combat operations. Kids need a chance to grow a little before they need to start marching and maneuvering on a battlefield.”
; “Well, Cal, you need to bring that up to the Mormon Prophet and his minions. About twenty orphans have been groomed for the last six years to be professional soldiers of the same type as Abigail.”
Torbin could still see the anger in Cal’s eyes as he turned to look toward the café. “What the hell have the Squids done to us?”
Torbin answered him. “We did it partly to ourselves in order to survive, to not get eaten. The Squids have a lot to answer for. I just helped with the first act of payback. That’s what helps to keep me going.”
Cal stuck out his hand once again. Torbin took it and shook. “If you ever need help, give me a call, Torbin. My last name is Bell—I think I may be in a phonebook somewhere. I may be getting old and fat, but I’ll try to help you any way I can.”
Torbin smiled. “I know you will. Now, let me go in and check on my partner. She’s having a rough day.”
Torbin quietly walked into the café, and looking around until he stepped into the kitchen. Sitting with her head and shoulders resting on a large tabletop, her arms outstretched was Abigail. Pamela was working on her neck and shoulders, massaging and rubbing her muscles and joints.
“Abigail, you are one mass of strong, tense muscles. Remind me to never make you angry at me. It feels like I’m trying to work over steel bands.” She kept working, grunting and gasping with effort. Abigail gave small sounds of contentment as the young woman did her best to work out the stress and pain from her body. A cup of hot tea had been moved out of the way. Jean was nearby and made eye contact with Torbin. Abigail, her eyes closed, half asleep, did not even notice.
Torbin heard large vehicles pull up outside near the gas pumps, telling him that the response unit had arrived. Jean winked at Torbin, then leaned in toward Abigail. “Honey, the response units are here. Take your time getting ready. I’ll go keep them busy for a few.”
She patted Abigail’s arm, then stood up and went out front. Torbin quietly spoke to his fellow soldier. “Hey, Abigail. I’ll get our stuff ready. Take your time.” She slowly raised her head up, then leaned on his side. Pamela had stopped the massage and silently slipped out. “Torbin, friend, I’m sorry I am such a burden, such a basket case. If you want to send me back to Deseret, I’ll understand.”
He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Abigail Young, you just need time to decompress. You have been on a combat and survival mode way too long. Any soldier needs to have some r and r time. Other than your birthday party the other night, you haven’t really had a vacation or leave from being an Avenging Angel, have you?”
“No, Torbin. Since the day I was released from quarantine, I have been in training, training others, or on field operations. I… never questioned it. I was doing God’s will.”
“Well, I think the Prophet and his wife have done you a favor by sending you with me, whether that was their real purpose or not. Trust me. You’ll have a chance to unwind, just as I have. We work hard, but we are also given a chance to play hard once in a while. It helps keep us sane.”
Abigail slowly stood up. Then she hugged Torbin. “I know this not correct military decorum, but I need a hug.”
A tear ran down his cheek and Torbin quickly wiped it away. Tough, badass Marines don’t blubber like little schoolgirls, damnit. He hugged her back, telling himself that she was like the little sister he never had.
The warrior woman untangled herself from Torbin. “Thank you, Torbin. I will always owe you. Ask, and I will always be there, no matter what.”
She began to put on her Kevlar vest once more. Torbin handed her cleaned and washed fatigue shirt to her. It looked good as new, no sign of the blood.
Torbin heard Jean and Cal talking, almost arguing with someone. “Lieutenant, they’ll be out in a minute. Trust us.”
He heard an unfamiliar voice respond. “Sir and madam, I have my orders. I need to ensure they are okay. Now.” The owner of the voice sounded young.
Torbin immediately strode out through the front doors. “Lieutenant. Give it a rest. Here I am.” He marched up to the young, slender Lieutenant, who snapped to a stiff attention and saluted.
“Begging your pardon, Sir. General Reed just said he would have my ass if I didn’t find you right away.”
Torbin saw a young man with a freckled face that looked as if he had never shaved. He suddenly felt old.
“Lieutenant Todd Baker at your service. General Reed told me to get you back soonest in one piece, with the representative from Deseret. I am ready to leave ASAP, Sir.” Torbin thought the young officer looked and acted like he had guzzled about two gallons of strong coffee. He seemed ready to bounce off the walls.
“Well, Lieutenant, we’ll be ready in just a few. We’ve had some problems with a group of Kraken bikers who were trying to take me somewhere I did not want to go, twice in one day. Cal and Jean here just helped to stop the second attempt. You just missed them.”
At that moment, Sergeant Michael Wall, a member of the backup Assault Team for the nuke mission, now on the Response Team, walked up. “Hey, Skipper! Glad to see you got back in one piece. I was just telling the young Lieutenant we could easily catch them. We’re mounted up, ready to go.”
Lieutenant Baker appeared like he was about to explode from stress. Torbin surmised in a glance this was Baker’s first trip to the field. Apparently General Reed must have seen something special in him, and was giving him a chance at some operational command experience. The guys on the Response Team, trained by him, had tons of experience, and had been saddled with a FNG Officer in Charge. But, then again, he was in charge.
“Sergeant, your unit Officer in Charge has his marching orders. So, those are your marching orders. Clear?”
Sergeant Wall snapped to attention. “Sir. Yes Sir.” They were back on the training field with the word “clear”. His men knew that when he used it, discussion was over. Sergeant Wall then addressed the Lieutenant. “Sir, ready to leave when you are.”
Lieutenant Baker finally seemed to calm down the tiniest bit. “Just as soon as the Captain is ready, we’ll be gone.” Sergeant Wall saluted, and returned to the other troops.
Torbin took pity on the young officer. “Lieutenant, I can tell this is your first big chance to command in the field. For whatever reason, General Reed decided to give you the opportunity to prove your worth. Unfortunately, you’re saddled with a whole bunch of hard ass troops I trained, with combat experience. They will likely test you to see if you’re going to get them killed or, in some people’s eyes, worse—that they will be made to look like fools.”
Torbin glanced back to see if Abigail had joined them yet, but she hadn’t. He continued, “Just remember to learn from your mistakes. Everyone makes them.”
“Sir, Captain Bender, Thank you.”
“No need to thank me. We were all FNGs at one time or another. People may grouse and bitch about new guys, but we all have to work as a team. Especially now. We lack the numbers to reject our fellow humans. Except for assholes like those Krakens.”
Just then, Abigail walked out, her pack slung on her left arm, her signature winged helmet attached to it, fatigue cap on. She had washed her face and regained her composure. It was as if nothing had happened. She smiled at the Lieutenant.
Lieutenant Baker stared for a moment, a look of amazement on his face. Then he snapped to.
“Captain. I am at your service.” He went to a Parade Ground Attention, and gave a Parade Ground Salute. Abigail went to attention and saluted sharply back, then she stuck her hand out to shake his. It took a moment for Baker to react, then he shook her hand eagerly.
“Glad to meet you, Lieutenant. I’m Abigail Young, Captain, Avenging Angel, Nauvoo Legion, Nation State of Deseret. I understand you are here to escort Captain Bender and me. You arrived at just the right time. Your siren scared off the wild beasts. Thank you.”
Lieutenant Baker blushed, and Torbin realized that the young man had just fallen hard. He had ‘smitten’ written all over his face. “Todd Baker, Ma’am. Just doing
my job. General Reed has directed me to get you back to Malmstrom ASAP, safely and in one piece. I am at your direction. Is there anything you want or require to make your journey more pleasurable?”
Abigail strained not to start laughing. The Lieutenant was so serious, so willing to please, like a young pup learning its first command. She knew that feeling, the wanting to please those you were to serve. “Well, you could start by relaxing a bit, please. I am sure you will get me there safe and sound, and the General will be more than satisfied. This will be my first long trip outside Deseret so please excuse me if I gawk a bit.”
Lieutenant Baker tried to relax, but was clearly having trouble. He managed to stammer out “Yes Ma’am.” He yelled at his unit. “Alright. We roll in ten.” He turned back to Abigail and Torbin. “You will be riding in the second Humvee with me. I’ll have someone stash your gear.”
“No need, Lieutenant,” Torbin responded. “We’ll take care of it. When you’ve been in the field a lot, you get nervous when someone else puts your gear away, out of reach. We’ll find room.”
“Yes Sir.” He saluted again, about faced, and went to make sure the Humvees were getting ready to roll.
“Torbin, he is quite…focused.”
Torbin laughed. “He’s just afraid he’ll screw up and General Reed will have his ass. Been there, done that.” He noticed Jean and her daughter Pamela were slowly approaching them. “I think your friends would like to say goodbye. Let me do the same with Cal.” He stepped away, giving Abigail some privacy.
Abigail approached the other women and soon found herself in a group hug. She managed to control herself so that she would not tear up again. As they separated, Jean handed her a note. “This is the official address and telephone number of this place. If you ever need to escape, a place to stay, there is always a room here for you.”
“Thank you. Torbin says they grant leave sometimes. If they do, I’d like to come back for some more baking lessons.”
The Tsunami Page 11
