Still Surviving (Book 5): Dark Secrets:

by Craven III, Boyd

  “I don’t—”

  “You’re limping, kid,” Jay pointed out.

  “Haven’t run like that since I banged it up.”

  “So, you ride back there, find out which of those fools is Young, and start interrogations,” Sheriff Jackson said with a grin. “You’re always complaining about how hungry the dogs get when there isn’t enough to eat.”

  I snorted and climbed onto the back tailgate, sitting sideways.

  “If any of you shitheads kick me, I’m going to put a 1911 up your ass and pull the trigger.”

  “You won’t get any trouble from us, sir,” one of them said with a muffled voice.

  “Raider,” I called, patting the tailgate.

  My dog jumped up easily. “Guard,” I said, pointing.

  He got closer into the eight-foot bed than I was and settled down on his stomach, his teeth showing, until he looked back at me. I nodded and patted him on the rump. “Good to go, Les,” I called.

  The truck was put into gear, and we started rolling slowly home. I saw Jay talking with his group, and they walked back into the woods. The men in the truck groaned as we bumped our way to the barn where Les put it in park with a bump. Raider looked at me and then at the men who were looking at us with wide eyes as several of our group walked up, rifles raised.

  “What’d they do?” Linda asked.

  “I dunno. Too short a trip. Come on guys,” I said, slapping one on the leg. “Raider, down, guard.”

  Raider hopped down and stood a little uneasily as the men slowly rolled to their butts, then scooted to the end of the tailgate and dropped to their feet. I could see the cable ties biting into their wrists. They looked around in mild surprise or shock, I couldn’t be sure. Sheriff Jackson’s group could be seen as they cut across the lawn near our growing graveyard and our direction.

  “Which of you jack holes is Young?” Jessica snapped.

  “That would be me,” a young red-faced man said, probably a few years younger than my twenty-nine years. “Where is McKinney?”

  “He’s inside. We’ve got his leg bandaged up, but he wanted your medic to take a quick peek.”

  “That’s Donovan,” he said. “You going to cut us free?” he asked, looking at Jessica then Linda, whose expression resembled storm clouds about to rain hellfire from above.

  “Ask the boss,” Linda asked, nodding at me.

  “What were you guys doing up there, right before we dropped the trees?” I asked them.

  “I keyed up my mic. I was the smartass,” a third man said. “Sorry, sir and ma’am, my bad. I didn’t even think that’d be considered hostile until half a heartbeat before the charges went off.”

  I looked at him and saw he had his mic right where I’d seen him reach. He was telling the truth.

  “Yeah, but we’re holding onto your weapons until we can make sure you’re the good guys. Let’s wait for the sheriff’s group and cut you loose. Jess, their packs and gear are in the front seat.”

  “I got the medic’s pack,” Les said, holding up a larger camo pack with a red cross on it.

  “Good,” I said.

  “Wes, how was the ride?” Jackson called.

  “Too damn short,” I told him. I turned to the men who were now standing in front of us, arms behind their backs still.

  “Sheriff, would you do the honors? I’d like to steal Young and Donovan to look in on McKinney. Jessica, can you oversee that?”

  “Absolutely,” she said, her eyes boring holes into Young’s.

  “Linda, will you stick with me and talk with these boys?”

  “Do I get to play bad cop this time?” she asked snarkily.

  “I hope none of us have to. If these boys are who they say they are, we won’t have to dig a bunch of more holes,” I said, hoping my carefree manner conveyed that we were serious.

  “I’ll help,” Les said, a pair of wire cutters in his hand.

  I waited, and everybody relaxed a bit as the cables came off. The men flexed their wrists. The smartass rolled his shoulders, and Raider growled. Jessica let out a sharp whistle, and I could hear running feet as both Diesel and Yaeger joined the party.

  “Diesel, stay with Wes. Yaeger, with me. Young, Donovan.” She motioned the way with her gun.

  Les had put the pack on the hood, and the man who had to have been Donovan took it and looked back at us.

  “So, who are the rest of you?” I asked.

  “Higgins,” the smartass said. “You don’t got to sic them dogs on me. I won’t try nothing. We’re the good guys here too.”

  “Good, then you shouldn’t have to worry about the pups tearing you up,” Linda told him. “You two?” she asked the others.

  “Raines, and this is Monty. He don’t talk much.”

  “Mute?” I asked him.

  “Mostly got nuthin’ to say,” Monty said.

  “And he proves us wrong right off the bat!” Higgins said with a grin. “Sorry about that. I didn’t think reaching for my mic would provoke you guys.”

  “It’s been interesting ‘round these parts,” Les said to him. “Wes, I’ll carry the gear in.”

  “Grab Marshall or some of the other boys to give you a hand,” I said with a smile.

  “I got some too,” Curt said, coming out of the barn door. “We having guests for dinner tonight?” he asked.

  “He don’t mean… You guys are … cannibals?” Higgins asked, his color draining.

  I chuckled and saw Sheriff Jackson and Linda smirking. “No,” I reassured him, “We’ve got some smoked ham, been hanging a few days now. Maybe some stew with potatoes, carrots, wild leeks cooked with the bone from the last one. Chunks of pork, that kind of thing.”

  One of the men’s stomachs growled. “Now you done talked about food,” Raines said, rubbing his stomach.

  “I could eat,” Monty said simply.

  They were an interesting bunch. Higgins was bi-racial if I had to guess, lanky and tall like me. Raines was a short stocky man who was older than me by a decade, broad shouldered, but with a beer belly that told me he’d not missed too many meals. Monty was almost an albino in coloring. He had camo paint streaked across his face and the tops of his hands. If there was ever a guy who had a reason to hate the sun, it’d be him. His eyes were a pale blue, and his thin frame was at odds with everyone else.

  “Good. Listen, we’ve been attacked so many times now, we’ve got our own graveyard going. We’re twitchy, and a private military contractor has, for some reason, made this county his home base to raid others and enslave them. He’s got ex-military and military of all levels, and has proven he’ll kidnap, torture and rape family members to make others do whatever he’s asked them to. If you boys are on the up and up, this won’t take too long,” Sheriff Jackson said, his voice carrying easy.

  The men looked uphill and did a double take at the mounds of freshly turned earth.

  “We’s the real deal,” Raines said. “Our mission isn’t exactly a secret, though. We were one of many teams sent to check out the mid-state area.”

  “Go on,” Linda urged.

  Raider sat at my feet, and I backed up to the bed of the pickup truck and slid up on the tailgate. The pressure off my ankle felt heavenly.

  “The state police in a neighboring county had contacted us about a large group. Said they were kidnapping and enslaving folks. Lots of firearm violations in this state. We were to check it out and then radio back. Problem is, our radios aren’t working too well. It took us a week or two to figure out where the hot spots were. Been picking up local radio chatter, some encrypted, some not. Lots of gunfire. With the world so quiet, the sound carries a long ways,” Raines finished.

  “And what intelligence do you have on us and the other group?” Linda asked.

  “That you’re a group of survivors, intentions unknown. One of many heavily armed groups in this part of the state. We didn’t know if your group was the one doing all the snatching of folks, so we were going to monitor and observe.”
/>   “You were at the old farm up the road, right?” I asked them.

  When they nodded, I asked, “Did you see a young woman? Really petite, blonde hair?”

  They shook their heads no, and Linda rolled her eyes at me.

  “You missing somebody?” Higgins asked.

  “Something like that. Apparently one of ours who goes by Angry Princess was at the farm also, had you boys under observation.”

  “She hasn’t answered back,” Linda told me.

  “At least I can tell Mary she’s ok, and she’s not been captured,” I shot back immediately.

  Linda’s brow relaxed. I realized she had been about to go momma bear on me for asking about Emily right away, but my reason seemed to satisfy her.

  “Mary?” Higgins asked.

  “Raider, go get Grandma and Mary,” I told him.

  He took off like a furry missile for the house, barking. We all turned to watch as he started barking and pawing at the doorway. A moment later, he stopped as Grandma opened the door, the short shotgun in her hands. She looked at the dog, then me. I gave her a thumbs-up, and she smiled.

  “You boys wanting any coffee?”

  “Coffee?” Monty asked.

  “It’s from a percolator,” I told him. “Not instant.”

  “Please,” he said as the others all nodded, grins on their faces.

  “Been living on rations a while?” Linda asked them.

  “We all have,” Raines told her, “ma’am.”

  “Is it alright if Mary comes out?” Grandma called. “She’s fussing about you.”

  I turned to the men who had puzzled faces, then turned back to her. “Sure, but tell Raider to stay by her side.”

  Raider barked, knowing what I wanted, even before Grandma could tell him. Mary’s little form slid out of the doorway, squeezing around Grandma’s waist, and came running my way. She gave a little hop and slid onto the tailgate, almost bowling me over. I laughed and put my arm around her as Raider caught up, spinning in a circle, barking happily.

  “Kids?” Monty asked.

  “Lots,” I told him. “Ours and some we got away from Killion’s group. We’ll reunite them with their parents someday…”

  “I’ll sound the all clear when we’re sure these guys aren’t pulling anything funky,” Linda told me.

  I hugged Mary tight. “If we were to get you out of range of what we think is jamming the radio signals, could you get word out and send for help?”

  “We need more intel, and the governor… Listen, the martial law thing… They’ll make you disarm,” Higgins said. “We don’t like it any more than you do.”

  “That’s not happening,” Linda snorted.

  “I can see that,” Raines told her.

  I heard Jess’ raised voice and then a mass of voices from the barn as some sort of commotion started, and I slid to my feet, “Stay here,” I told Mary. “Sheriff, Diesel, Raider, come on.”

  “What’s going on?” Raines asked.

  “I think Young’s still shooting his mouth off, sorry bastard,” Higgins said with some disgust.

  6

  The barn was in chaos. I could see McKinney, Donovan and Michael near the radio on the benches, McKinney’s leg being tended to as a crowd of people surrounded Jessica and Young. Young had both fists up in a boxing stance, bouncing on his feet. Jessica was in a more relaxed stance, something that reminded me of old Jackie Chan videos right before he laid down an epic display of a mixture of martial art disciplines.

  Young rushed, swinging straight from the chest. Jessica slipped to the side, letting his momentum carry him as she crushed her knee into his side, one hand going to the back of his head and yanking it back savagely. A chop to the throat was delivered and everyone went “OHHHH,” almost in unison. I was trying to push my way through when I saw Young back off a step, his hand clutching his throat.

  “I pulled that chop, otherwise I would have killed you. Knock it off,” Jessica snapped.

  “You’re a traitor to your oath!” he yelled, getting into his stance once again.

  I’d had enough. “Diesel, Raider, get ‘em.”

  Both dogs snarled and there was no question who they already wanted to eat. They’d been thrumming with tension as they saw Jessica fighting. Their natural instinct was to attack Young, and it was only their training that had held them back, until now. Diesel grabbed Young’s left leg from behind as Raider jumped, catching his opposite elbow. Both started twisting and shaking their heads as he lost his footing, screaming in rage and pain.

  Jessica barked a command in German and both dogs let go at once. She gave them another one and they both went to her, on their way to heel. I was seeing red though. This man had attacked my soon to be wife, my pregnant soon to be wife, calling her a traitor. I was seething with rage. I fell on the man as he was trying to get back to his feet, my knee going into his gut. My weight and placement knocked the breath out of him in a big whoosh, and that was when I started swinging.

  “You,” I threw a punch to the face, “don’t ever,” a left hook to the teeth, “touch,” a right overhand to the eye, “my,” double fists to the nose, “pregnant,” left hand grabbed him by the throat, “fiancé!” right hand crushing into his chin.

  His eyes rolled. I cocked my fist back for another one, but strong arms grabbed me from behind, and dragged me backwards. I spun, my blood up, but knowing it could only have been one of two people who would have broken that up. Sheriff Jackson put his hands up, palms out. I took a deep breath and realized I still had my fists balled and then opened them up palms out.

  “Sorry, you could have killed him,” Jackson said simply.

  “I think I still might,” I said turning, breathing hard.

  He was stirring, rolling to the side. His face was a mass of blood where I’d done a number on his lips and nose. One eye was already swelling shut and he’d have a couple of bruises.

  “How’s your hands?” Jessica asked me.

  “Hurts,” I admitted, feeling chilly all of a sudden as the adrenaline rush left me as fast as it’d come on.

  “That’s why they train us to use the edge of our hand, gouge with our fingers, use our knees and elbows.”

  “Sometimes,” Sheriff Jackson said, “a man has to just duke it out with another man. Especially when a shit bird takes a poke at his wife. It’s about honor, territorialism… man law. Might not have been the most elegant way to communicate with Sargent Young there, but I think he got the point.”

  Young spit on the ground, and pushed himself to his knees, wincing.

  “Think we should tie him up?” I asked the now silent crowd.

  “We ought to take him out back and shoot him,” Curt said. “Going after your woman like that? Somebody did that to my Margie? I’d do everything in my power to bury the sumbitch.”

  There were murmurs of agreement and I saw it when the moment Young realized… He was all alone here. Neither of his men inside, nor any of the ones outside, had stepped in to help him. He was quite literally in a hostile camp full of people who didn’t give a shit who he was, what rank he was, who he represented, or what rules he was going to try to enforce. He realized he was looking at a group of survivors who, for months, had literally been waging war, offensive and defensive, and had killed and been killed. His good eye widened and looked up to me.

  “You in charge around here?” he asked me simply. “I mean, you’re the big boss?”

  “I guess so,” I told him.

  He started to nod, then slumped over.

  “Sarg… Mister uh… Can I?” Donovan said.

  “Go ahead,” I waved the medic over.

  “Passed out,” he said after a few moments.

  “Good. Go ahead and tie him up loosely. Yaeger, you stay and guard. Raider, with me.”

  “Where are we going?” Jessica asked, as I limped towards the house.

  “To see what kind of mess I’ve made,” I whispered back softly, “and to tell Mary we’ve heard from her mom.”


  “You know, you’re sexy when you get angry,” Jess whispered back, grabbing my butt in front of God and everyone else.

  Somebody snickered behind me, and I said loudly, “Must be the pregnancy hormones.”

  Linda handled the debriefing. According to Jay, she’d showed them some sort of identification, which had put them all at ease. He’d told me it had been like a transfer of command, one that Young had lost. Young had a decent concussion, and I felt a bit guilty about that afterwards. Jessica could hold her own, probably lay a far better beatdown than me, but she was going to be my wife. She was carrying my child. So, I’d done what any self-respecting man would have done when faced with a man who’d attacked his wife and in a fair fight. I’d cheated, and I’d beat his ass bloody. His concussion was nowhere near as severe as mine had been when I’d cracked my head open, but he was going to be out of commission for a couple of days at least.

  Jessica, Raider and I had left the barn, Jess scooping Mary into her arms, and we’d sat on the front porch and explained to her that we’d heard from her mother. She had taken it well and had been relieved to know her mom hadn’t been captured, but was upset that she hadn’t come back yet.

  “Can you call her on the radio? Can I?” She’d asked more than once.

  “We’ve tried honey. She said she was looking for something,” Jess said, hugging her tight.

  Mary curled sideways onto Jessica’s lap, resting her head on Jess’ shoulder. Jess held her close, smoothing her hair back.

  “Maybe mommy went to look for her happy pills?”

  “She said on the radio she was looking for something,” I told her, repeating the message.

  “I miss my mommy and my cousins,” she said softly.

  Jessica rocked her, brushing her hands through her hair. A tear rolled down her face and I wanted to get up and comfort her, but Jessica shook her head at me. The dogs were sprawled out on the front porch like furry landmines. Diesel was snoring loud enough that he sounded like a badly maintained bandsaw. Grandma and Raider watched silently.

  Raider chuffed, then walked over to Mary. He put his big head on her midsection, rubbing his right ear against her stomach. Mary giggled and pushed him back.