by JEFF MOTES
I went to see him about a traffic ticket he gave me more than twenty years before. He told Jill about it, but he didn’t tell her all of our conversation. He said he had been watching me from an early age, and how sorry he was that Kathy had passed away. Then he said, “Son, I know you are a good man. I knew you would be, because your father is a good man. Jill is a good woman. She is one to ride the river with. You would be wise not to think of her as your little sister anymore.” The next day he called me over and made me promise to do him a favor sometime in the future. I thought it was odd at the time, but I’m beginning to understand now. That promise is still in my dresser at home.
The adrenaline crash has made me weak and tired. I slump back against the tree. Just a little rest is all I need. The sound of Jill’s running footsteps causes me to sit up and smile. She smiles back and sits beside me. I feel the gentle touch of her hands as she tends to my wound. I don’t think of the pain as I watch her every move. Jill is a complete woman. The touch of her hand brings me comfort. Her mere presence gives me courage and strength. I should tell her how I feel, yet something holds me back. I don’t understand why. Her hand is still on my chest as she looks up at me. I cover her hand with mine and say, “Jill, if we ever make it home, I have something I want to say to you.”
“You can say it to me right now, if you want.”
Her gaze is steady. It’s as if she is reaching into my soul. She has given me permission to say the words that will change both of our lives forever. I start to speak. Then the scream!
My focus instantly changes and I scan the surroundings. The emotions of the moment are gone. A new threat is at hand. I look at the woman. Rapidly approaching are armed men. They are all wearing the same camouflage with the same insignia. They each have side arms and the same tactical combat vest. They each have a black rifle. Two are already upon the woman and man with their rifles pointing directly at them. Two are rapidly approaching us. There is no time to reach for my carbine. Something inside tells me any effort to bring a gun to bear will result in our immediate deaths. Jill’s instinct is to fight. She reaches for her Glock, but I catch her hand, stopping her. She looks back questioningly, loses her balance, and falls backwards into my arms.
I simply shake my head. “Not now, Jill. Not now.”
I say a silent prayer: Dear God, show me a way!
The men have a serious, controlled, and determined look about them. These guys are professionals, no doubt. They each have a camouflage pattern that reminds me of Vietnam War movies. Their sidearms are 1911s. The rifles are M1As, and their fingers are on the trigger guards and not on the triggers. Their insignia is some rendition of the Confederate Battle flag, but in green and black hues. The letters SF05 appear under the flag patch. There are eight men. Wait, seven men, and one woman. The woman and one of the men are black, the remaining six are white. The women is similarly outfitted, except she is carrying a Mini-14 instead of an M1A. Two of the men are covering the woman and man on the ground. Two are covering Jill and me. Two are standing outside the immediate area, as if standing guard. An older man and the woman are in the middle.
The older man says, “All right, boys, let’s gather them up over here. Make sure they’re disarmed.”
One of the men facing me says, “Let’s do this nice and slow. No sudden moves and you won’t get hurt. Do not touch your weapon. If you do, you will be shot. Do you understand?”
Jill and I both nod.
“Ma’am, you first, stand up slowly.” Jill rises to her feet. “Joe, retrieve her weapon.” Directing his attention to me, he says, “Sir, your turn. Stand up slowly.” I start to stand. He notices my bloody shirt and bandage. “Sir, do you need assistance?”
“No. I’m okay,” I respond, standing.
“Joe, retrieve his pistol and the carbine on the ground. Do either of you have another weapon? If you lie to me, I promise it will not go well for you.”
“Only our knives,” I reply.
“Joe, get their knives. Pat the man down. We’ll let Shondra pat the women down when we get over there.”
Joe secures our knives and pats me down, finding nothing. The soldier’s words bring some relief. Our guns may be stolen, we may be arrested and sent to some detention camp, but I feel certain this group of disciplined men will not harm Jill.
We are taken over next to the truck, where the older man is. The woman, Shondra, is standing next to him.
The older man nods at Jill, “Shondra, if you don’t mind.”
She pats Jill down, finding nothing else. The man and woman are already standing.
“Where is the rest of your group?” the leader asks.
I’m taken aback. I glance at Jill. She seems to be surprised as well.
“Sir, we are not part of a group,” I answer. “What you see is all we are.”
“Bullsh—” He catches himself, and with a somewhat softer tone, he says, “Pardon me, ladies…bullcrap! Then who killed all these bastards on the ground? Anderson, check the ground.”
The guy who had been giving me and Jill orders walks off and starts surveying the area. He comes back in a few minutes and reports, “Sarge, I see 9mm brass scattered here and there and what appears to be one magazine dump of 7.62x39 steel case. There are five AK47s, five Taurus 24/7 pistols, and one Mossberg shotgun lying around. I also see a knife sticking out of that giant bastard’s head.”
Sarge looks over to where Anderson is pointing. He turns back and looks at me intently for a few moments, then at the guns on the hood of the truck, my carbine and Glock 19, and Jill’s Glock 19. Sarge looks at the man and woman then back at me. “Where are your other guns?”
I hesitate, not sure if I want to reveal where our ATV and other guns are.
“My Ruger 10/22 is back at the wash through the trees right over there,” Jill says. “It jammed on me and I had to leave it. The shotgun on the ground over there is ours too, but I couldn’t figure out how to use it.” She looks over at me, “I’m sorry, John.”
I’m thinking, What is she sorry about? She saved my life and deflected this man’s question. She is definitely a quick thinker.
Sarge shakes his head. He asks the man and woman, “Where are your guns?”
“My name is Theo Jones. This is my wife, Cassandra Jones. Our guns were confiscated by the Brent Police early this morning.”
“Then how did you four manage to kill these five bastards?” Sarge presses.
Theo says, “We didn’t.” Pointing at me he says, “He did. Those animals attacked me and my wife.” He gets choked up, yet continues. “They did…some bad things to my wife.” Cassandra buries her head into Theo’s shoulder and weeps. “This man and his wife killed them.”
“Men, lower your weapons,” Sarge says, looking hard at me. “Perimeter security. Martin, you and Shondra tend to Mr. and Mrs. Jones.”
Martin appears to be a medic of some type. Martin and Shondra take the Joneses to the back of the truck. Two men remain with Sarge. Their weapons remain at the ready, but aren’t pointed at anyone. Sarge looks at the weapons on the truck hood. Picking one up at a time he says, “A Kel-Tec Sub 2000 with suppressor. A nice combination. A Glock 19. A nice combination with the Kel-Tec. Can I assume, ma’am, the G19, with the pink outline belongs to you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You mean to tell me you attacked these five heavily armed bastards with these?”
“I did use the Ruger for ten shots,” Jill says.
He looks at me. “Mister, are you some type of Rambo, or are you just plain lucky?”
I really don’t know how to answer. “I’m not a Rambo. I couldn’t have done it without her and help from above.”
“I’ve never seen anything like this before. I want to shake your hands. My name is Sergeant John McCoy. I’m with the Perry County Militia, Swamp Fox Unit.” He shakes my hand, then Jill’s.
“Sergeant, my name is John Carter. This is Jill Barnes. Are you going to take our guns?”
“No, son, we
aren’t thieves. We’ve been trailing these bastards for two days. They have been on a rape and murder spree through this area. We almost gave up hope of finding them when we heard the automatic weapons fire. That’s probably the AK casings Anderson found on the ground back there. Just call me Sarge.”
“Where are they from?” I ask, gesturing to the dead men.
“Don’t know for sure,” Sarge responds. “This is the first I’ve seen of them. I think they’re part of a larger group.”
“I heard the oldest bastard say they needed to be above Montevallo before dark.”
Sarge grins. “That’s interesting. I suppose if they had made it up there, they would have met a similar fate from the militia there. I’m going to have my men pick up their weapons and gear up and put it on back of the truck. I assume you are going to want the truck, right?”
I glance over at Jill. She shrugs. “I’m pretty sure Theo and Cassandra will want the truck,” I say, “though I haven’t even spoken with them yet.”
“I haven’t either,” Jill says. “Not really.”
Sarge shakes his head again. “You and your wife fought these five bastards for people you don’t even know? That’s amazing! Let’s gather back together and decide what should be done.”
At the truck, he tells Anderson, “Give these folks back their guns. Gather all the weapons and gear of these bastards and put them on back of the truck.”
Anderson obeys, and mine and Jill’s weapons are returned.
Sarge says, “If you don’t mind, please keep your sidearms holstered and either lean that carbine against the truck, or keep it slung over your shoulder. No handling of the guns.”
“Sure, no problem,” I say.
Jill says, “Yes, sir.”
“Don’t call me sir. I work for a living.” Sarge calls out, “Shondra, can we come to the back?”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
The three of us walk to the back.
“Theo, he’s going to be pretty sore for a few days, but he’s going to mend up,” Shondra reports. “Cassandra really needs to see the doctor.”
Cassandra has been staring at me intently since I walked up. Finally, she comes over, places her hands on either side of my face, and looks into my eyes. She draws me down and embraces me tightly. Sobbing, she says, “Thank you. May God bless you.”
Theo embraces me as well, saying, “You and your wife have saved our lives. Your selfless act, and the valor by which it was carried out, will never be forgotten.”
Then they both embrace Jill. Jill comes over by my side and I place my arm around her, drawing her close to my side.
Sarge, with moist eyes, clears his throat. “All right, now let’s decide what needs to happen next.”
Chapter 54
John
On to Marion
Day 10
“Let’s start this discussion by introducing ourselves since it seems you folks don’t seem to know each other,” Sarge suggests.
“I’m John Carter. This is Jill Barnes. We’re trying to get to Jackson, in Clarke County.”
“Jackson?” Theo pipes up.
“Yes. Jill lives in Jackson,” I say. “I’m not far from there, in Repose.”
“Y’all aren’t married?” Sarge asks curiously. “How do y’all work as a team so well? I mean, that had to take some team work for you two to take down those five bastards.”
“I don’t know,” I say. “We just do.”
“My wife Cassandra and I are trying to get to Jackson,” Theo says. “My dad was from there and my grandfather used to teach school there.”
Jill asks, “Your grandfather? Is his name Joe Jones?”
“Yes,” Theo says excitedly.
Jill smiles. “He was one of my favorite teachers.”
“Well y’all have a truck now,” Sarge says. “Y’all can ride together. How have you been traveling?”
“We have bikes around here somewhere if those animals didn’t destroy them,” Theo says. “That’s our two packs in the back of the truck.”
“John,” Sarge says, “how were you traveling?”
I hesitate for a moment, then answer, “We had bikes for part of our journey, then a truck for a very short ways, now an ATV. We’re traveling at night.”
Sarge cocks his head and looks at me harder. “You sure you don’t have some tactical training? Night time traveling is probably your safest time, provided, of course, you can see. Do you have an NVD?”
“Yes.”
“So my guess is you have a camp somewhere close by.”
“Yes.”
Sarge says, “Well, y’all have a truck, some full automatic AK47s, pistols and ammunition, and a couple of cases of MREs in the back of the truck. You also have your ATV and an NVD. What are your plans?”
I look at Jill questioningly, she nods. “Theo,” I say, “you can have the truck. If you want, we can travel as a group, but I’m only going to be traveling at night. After the beating I took a little while ago, I don’t think I’m going to be able to travel with the NVD tonight. I’m going to have to rest until tomorrow night. If you want to travel on alone, that’s no problem with me. We can split the food and guns and part on good terms.”
“I would like to travel together,” Theo says, “but it seems to me driving at night will draw attention to the lights.”
“If we travel together, we won’t be using any lights. In fact, we’ll have to black out the truck.”
Sarge says, “May I make a suggestion to you folks? My unit and I are going to be traveling back to our compound south of Marion in just a little bit. I can get you set up with a place to stay for the night. You’ll have to provide your own security, unless you have something you want to trade for security services.” Turning to Theo, Sarge continues, “Your wife needs to see our doctor. I can’t let you stay at our compound. Actually, the decision isn’t mine to make, but I know what the answer will be. We can get you tucked away in the house, then take you and your wife, blindfolded, to our compound and she can see our doctor. I think that is the best option for all of you.”
“Whatever Theo decides,” I say. “Your suggestion works for me. I don’t mind using the odd AK47 to pay for security for tonight, and our clothes washed and enough water for us each to have a bath.”
Sarge laughs. “Son, if you trade one of those AKs, the tactical vest, and the pistol that goes with it, I promise you you’ll have all the things you asked for—and two hot meals! One this evening and another tomorrow before you leave.”
“I’m good with it,” Theo says, “but you’ll have to explain that blackout idea for the truck to me later.”
“Okay, I will. First let’s open one of those cases of MREs and eat,” I say. “I’m starving!”
That meets with everyone’s approval.
It takes a full case of MREs to feed me, Jill, the Jones’ and the Swamp Fox unit. But the good will gained was well worth the price.
I ask Sarge, “Do you guys have a working shortwave radio? One that will transmit?”
Sarge shakes his head. “We were using our good unit when the EMP hit, so we lost it. We’ve been having problems getting the backup unit to work properly. So I’m not sure if it’s working now or not. Why do you ask?”
“Well first I’d like to know what is going on around the country. The last I heard the president had been arrested and the chairman of the joint chiefs was claiming temporary authority. Second, back in my community we have a shortwave setup that might have survived the EMP.”
“We’ll see,” Sarge says. “I can’t bring you in without the unit commander’s permission. I’m sticking my neck out for the Jones’ because I know Mrs. Jones needs medical treatment immediately. In fact, we better get moving. How long will it take you to demobilize your camp?”
“I think we can be packed and ready in fifteen minutes. Keep in mind I’m driving an ATV. It won’t travel as fast as these trucks.”
“Be back here in fifteen minutes and we’ll leave. We have
two trucks. I’ll be in the lead. We’ll put you and the Jones’ in the middle, and Anderson can bring up the rear.”
“Will do.” I reach down and help Jill up.
Sarge is watching us both. “You sure you two aren’t married?” Sarge says.
Laughing, we walk back to our camp.
I pick up the shotgun as we walk back to the wash. When we reach the wash, Jill picks up the Ruger and shows me what happened. I’ve seen it before on 22 semi-automatics. Pulling my multi-tool out, I remove the stuck casing and work the action a few times to make sure it’s working properly.
“It could have been caused by the ammo, or dirt, or a number of other things. We’ll clean it tonight.”
Jill starts to re-shoulder her pack and I stop her. “Jill, thank you for saving my life. You are a brave woman and true to your word.”
She smiles and taps me on the arm. “Don’t worry about it. That’s what little sisters are for.”
We make it back to the camp and work together to take it down and stow it.
“You have this set up pretty good,” I remark. “You must have had a good teacher.”
“I have the best,” Jill says. “Now let’s go. I’m really tired.”
“I know you’re tired. You should have woken me up earlier so you could sleep.”
“That wasn’t going to happen. By the way, your iPhone is almost dead.”
“I forgot about that. The GPS needs charging too. Maybe we can get some good sunshine tomorrow for the solar charger. Jill, if you want, I’m sure the Jones’ won’t mind if you ride with them. You might be able to rest better on the way to Marion.”
“And not have this shoulder to drool on? No, thank you.”
