by Steven Bird
Taken back by Nate’s sudden dismissal, Jessie advised, “There’s no need to be in a hurry to part ways. For her sake, at least, let me help you get her somewhere safe, and then I’ll continue on as I had planned. But to be honest, I just don’t think it’s wise to split up just yet. She can ride Hank while we walk. It’ll make things much easier on her.”
Thinking it over for a second, Nate nodded and said, “We’re heading east. What about you?”
“East as well,” Jessie responded.
“Where to?” Nate asked.
“I’m not sure exactly.”
Shooting Jessie a skeptical look, Nate raised an eyebrow and retorted, “So, let me get this straight, you’re not sure exactly where you’re going, but you know it’s east?”
“My sister moved to a homestead in East Tennessee a while before it all went down. We’d been separated by a divorce early in life and hadn’t really kept in touch other than the occasional “like” on a social media post.
“Later on as life got busy, especially when I entered law enforcement and began my political career running for Sheriff of Montezuma County I… I just lost track. Life just got in the way and we drifted further apart.”
“You were a sheriff?” Nate asked with piqued curiosity.
“Yeah, for a while,” Jessie chuckled as he kicked a stone on the ground. “The wave of organized corruption that was sweeping the nation finally caught up with my little out of the way county and I was forced out.”
Getting back on track, Jessie continued, “Then, the attacks began, and the next thing you know, we lost all contact. Since we were mostly communicating via the internet and social media, I never really wrote her address down. I guess, like everyone else at the time, I assumed when and if we went for a visit, we could just ask her for the address and plug it into the GPS. Like many others, we’d gotten out of the habit of actually keeping a paper address book.
“Then, when our online world went dark, it was gone. The few pieces of mail I had received from my sister over the years burned up with the house. I… I wasn’t in my right mind at the time.
“I figured I could just make my way to the general area, then start asking questions. That sounds ridiculous, I know…”
“No, that’s not ridiculous at all,” Nate interrupted, seeing there must be more to Jessie’s story that was haunting him so. “Hell, when it all started, and our cell phones went down, even if I could have found a functioning landline, I wouldn’t have been able to call my parents back east because I didn’t know their number. I didn’t even know my own parent's phone numbers! But why would I? It was saved in my contacts under Mom and Dad, right? And my contacts were backed up in the cloud, so what could possibly go wrong?”
Shaking his head, Nate added, “I know exactly how you feel. I think that level of dependency on technology made our nation ripe for the picking. We had lost touch with the basics on almost every level. We were soft. We were weak. And our guard was down, big time.”
“Did you find them?” Jessie asked, worrying if such a question would tear the scab off a wound in Nate’s heart.
Looking down to the ground and kicking a pine cone, Nate muttered, “One of them.”
Replying with only a nod, Jessie looked up at the sun, noting its position in the sky. “Let’s put a little more distance between us and… um… the scene,” he suggested, gesturing in the direction of the massacre.
Thinking it over for a moment, Nate looked Jessie squarely in the eye and said, “I suppose your horse will make things easier on her. For now, at least.”
Nodding, Jessie said, “I’ll get Hank ready to go. I’m sure he’ll enjoy having a thin young girl like Britney on his back instead of me for a while. He deserves a much needed break, too.”
“Britney?” Nate sighed as he shook his head. “Is that her name? I… I never even took a minute to ask. Everything was happening so fast.”
Putting his hand on Nate’s shoulder, Jessie smiled and assured him, “You had your priorities. You did everything you needed to do when you had to do it. A proper introduction would have come in due time.”
Chapter Three
As Jessie made his final preparations with Hank, he looked over his shoulder to see Nate keeping a keen eye on their surroundings. “So, do you have a desired course or path you want to follow? I won’t ask you for specifics, just give me something to go on.”
Removing a well-worn map from his pocket, Nate unfolded it and pointed at their location, saying, “We’re currently eight or nine miles west of Dandridge. My goal is to get us across the bridge on TN-92, right there, to get south of Douglas Lake. There’s another small road we’ll meet up with to head east from there. If we head south through the woods from here, we’ll come out in the back pasture of one of the small farms that line the south side of the hills. Once we get there, we’ll need to find a place to cross I-40.”
Looking over their options, he then noted, “We could go around Douglas Lake by going due south and through Sevierville, but I’d rather avoid the population there if we can.”
“Sounds good to me,” Jessie concurred. “And I agree. Avoiding population centers is how I’ve stayed alive while traveling as far as I have.”
With Hank tacked up and ready to go, Nate led Britney over to Jessie and the horse, saying, “Jessie and I will walk. You can ride Hank. Jessie will lead him, of course. All you have to do is go along for the ride.”
Responding with only a distant gaze, Britney walked over to the eight-year-old lineback dun horse and Jessie reached for her hand. Placing her hand on the back of Hank’s neck, Jessie explained, “Put your foot in the stirrup and boost yourself straight up and over. Don’t worry, you won’t hurt him by hanging onto the back of his neck or his mane.”
“Why not use the handle?” she asked, pointing to the saddle horn.
With a smile, Jessie said, “That’s for rope. If you use it as a handle while mounting, the saddle will shift toward you. It’s best to just place your hand here,” he said again, pointing to the base of Hank’s neck.
“Now,” he continued, looking her in the eye to ensure she was listening. “If, for whatever reason, you and Hank end up away from Nate and me, here’s how you can get him to do what you want. To turn left, pull back lightly on his left rein to apply pressure to the bit. Not much, though, as too much pressure can cause him pain and get more of a reaction than you want. He’s generally a compliant fellow, so be gentle. If he refuses, he’s probably got a good reason. If you want him to make a tight turn, block the side of him where you don’t want him to go with pressure from your leg, and open your other leg, pulling it away from his body, on the side you want him to turn. Think of it as putting up a gate on the side you don’t want him to go.
“To get him going, just nudge him slightly with your heels. To get going in more of a hurry, use more force. Don’t kick him, though. Just think of it as if you’re talking to him with your feet. To stop him, start by applying forward pressure to both stirrups as if you’re applying the brakes in a car while saying whoa. If you need more, pull back slightly on both reins as well.”
Looking at the stirrups, Jessie said, “Here, let me adjust these for you,” as he loosened the Blevins buckles before adjusting them to match her size. “There, put your feet in now and let’s see how it fits you.”
Doing as he asked, Britney nodded, indicating to him that the adjustments were acceptable.
“Okay, then,” Jessie nodded as he cradled his .30-30 across his chest with it resting in the bend of his left arm. “Come on, boy,” Jessie said as he started walking.
Britney was startled when Hank immediately began following along behind Jessie. She gripped the reins tightly and said, “I thought you were going to lead him?”
“I am,” Jessie answered with a smile. “He follows me like a dog. Even if you tried to turn him away, he’d protest and try to follow me anyway. Just relax and rest the reins loosely around the saddle horn. Just go with the flow and
let him do the rest.”
“I’ll follow along about fifty yards back, covering our six,” Nate called softly to Jessie as he began to slow and fall back.
“Sounds good to me,” Jessie affirmed as he turned and focused on the terrain ahead of him.
As Jessie walked through the woods in the direction Nate had suggested, Hank followed along, keeping a keen eye on him just as Jessie had predicted.
Turning to look back, he could see that Nate was dropping back to follow in the distance. Keeping some space between them would allow Nate to both identify and respond to a threat approaching from their rear without immediately endangering Britney, as well as being able to respond to a situation as an independent force if a threat were to emerge ahead of them.
A side benefit of their separation, as Jessie saw it, was to keep the inevitable conversation to a minimum, helping them keep their eyes and ears on their surroundings. After all, they were still relatively close to the scene of the ambush.
After a few minutes of relative calm, Jessie heard the tell-tale thumping of a helicopter’s main rotor off in the distance. That’s a big one, he thought as he signaled Nate to take cover in the rear. Turning his attention to Britney, Jessie jogged over to Hank, taking hold of his bridle and quickly leading him and Britney into the thick of the woods.
“What is it?” she sheepishly asked.
When he pointed to his ear, she nodded, noticing the beat of the rotors as the helicopter drew near.
Within seconds, the helicopter flew overhead at a high rate of speed, barely clearing the treetops as it zoomed by at a very low-level.
“Was that a…?” Jessie mumbled aloud as Nate joined up with them.
“Gotta get moving,” Nate insisted.
“Was that a Hind?” Jessie stammered.
“Yep. We’ve dealt with those things before, and I don’t intend to again. They’ll mess your day up in a hurry. They’re also probably dropping off a few hunters on foot.”
“Hunters?” Jessie queried.
“Those things can hold up to eight soldiers in the back. My guess is they’re responding to what happened back there. They’ll drop what they call hunters, which are foot soldiers, trained in advanced tracking techniques, equipped for light and fast movement. They flush out their prey by keeping it on the move, then they radio in and the Hind comes back and rains hell on their prey from above. It’s a tactic they employ to keep us insurgent types afraid to make a hit. They come in fast and hard, and more often than we would care to admit, run us to our graves. So, get moving! Get her out of here. I’ll throw them off if they come our way. Just meet up with me on the other side of the lake!”
Seeing Jessie mentally processing his demands, Nate reiterated, “Now!”
Pulling Britney’s foot out of the stirrup, Jessie muttered, “Slide back onto the saddlebags.”
Once she was clear, he boosted himself up and into the saddle. Nudging Hank in the sides, he clicked with his cheek and Hank began moving with authority, quickly disappearing into the woods and out of sight from Nate.
Turning toward the direction of the ambush site, knowing full well that’s where the Hind was going, Nate looked around, got his bearings, and thought, “Well, hell. Out of one bind and into another.”
~~~~
Running Hank hard through the tight confines of the woods, Jessie took the brunt of the tree branches when he smashed into them, hoping to deflect them away from Britney. Seeing a clearing up ahead, he brought Hank to a slow trot. Nearing the edge of the tree line, he reined back, bringing Hank to a stop.
Quietly dismounting, Jessie gestured to his lips for Britney to remain quiet as he glassed the area with the 3-9x scope on his Marlin .30-30 rifle.
Turning to Britney, Jessie said softly, “It looks like the burned ruins of what once was a middle-class neighborhood. From before…” he explained, walking back toward her and Hank.
Looking around and thinking of their options, he said, “I don’t like the idea of riding out into the open across those lots, but we’re painted into a corner. If they track us, we need to be long gone. These woods aren’t big enough to hide us. They’re the remnants of the development from all of these cookie cutter suburban communities. They left just enough green to let people feel like they were out in the country, but that’s about it.”
Startled by an explosive boom in the distance, Britney flinched and asked, “What was that?”
“It sounds like Nate is giving them a hard time for us. C’mon. Let’s not waste his efforts,” Jessie urged as he boosted himself back into the saddle. Holding the reins in his left hand while keeping a grip on his rifle with his right, Jessie nudged Hank forward and into the clearing. Feeling exposed and vulnerable, Jessie nudged Hank once again, picking up the pace and bringing him to a slow trot.
Seeing a damaged portion of what was once a privacy fence to separate two several-acre lots, Jessie steered Hank to and through the opening, moving from one parcel to the next.
“There,” he announced, pointing off in the distance. “There’s the lake, and there’s the bridge.” Scanning the area, Jessie saw nothing but destroyed homes. It was as if Genghis Khan himself had rolled through the neighborhood, destroying and killing everything in his path.
As Jessie and Britney approached the bridge, Jessie reined back on Hank, bringing him to a stop. Looking around, he saw a man climb out from underneath the bridge while holding an AK pattern rifle in front of him.
“Trolls,” Jessie mumbled.
“What?” Britney asked.
“Oh, nothing. I just hate bridges. They always come with surprises.”
Nudging Hank forward, Jessie rode toward the man, looking him over as they approached. He could see the man was wearing well-worn denim jeans and a green wool button-up shirt. He appeared to be in his early fifties, and his face hadn’t seen a razor in quite some time. Well, at least he’s not pointing it at us, he thought.
“Hello, there!” Jessie said, laying his rifle across his lap and raising his right hand to wave.
“That’s far enough,” the man warned. “State your business.”
“My daughter and I are just passing through is all,” Jessie answered with a smile. “We’d be obliged if you let us pass.”
“Where are you going?” the man asked.
“South of here,” Jessie replied.
“A lot of stuff is south of here,” the man replied while cocking his head to one side as if to study Jessie a little closer. “Where exactly are you traveling to?” he again probed.
“If you and a member of your family were traveling, would you want to give a total stranger specifics about where you were going?” Jessie responded. “Most folks these days have learned to keep certain details to themselves. I suspect you know what I’m saying.”
Nodding, the man conceded, “Yes. Yes, I do.” Leaning to look around Jessie, the man said, “She’s your daughter, huh?”
“That’s right. Now if you don’t mind…”
“Now, hold on,” the man insisted, interrupting Jessie. Tightening his grip on his rifle, the man walked closer, leaning to one side to get a better look at Britney.
“Are you okay?” he asked, looking directly at her.
Looking to Jessie as if she didn’t understand, she saw Jessie nod. “Yes. I’m fine, thanks.”
“Are you sure? You look kind of shook up. Don’t be afraid of this man,” the stranger explained. “What he doesn’t know is the fact that there are quite a few rifles trained on him right now. He’ll never bring that rifle off his lap to take a shot if he makes any sudden moves,” he announced with a smile. “So, if you’re in trouble, just climb on down, and we’ll get you far away from this man.”
“She's shaken up because…”
“Shut up!” the man barked, raising his rifle to the low ready position. “I’m talking to the young lady.”
Looking the rifle over closely, Jessie identified it as an AK-74M, complete with the three-position selector. Russia
n issue?
“She lost her mother just a few hours ago. Of course, she’s shaken up.”
“Lost her mother, how? Did you kill her?”
“No, those bastards who hide behind the name of the UF did it. She was on a bus that was supposed to be traveling to a new camp. There was no camp, just a hole, and a dozer. She’d be in it right now, too, if a militiaman and his group hadn’t come along and put a stop to it. Now, are you with the UF, or are you with us?” Jessie growled as he stealthily rotated the open bottom of his holster forward, cocking the old Colt pistol without drawing it. “If you do have buddies watching, they’ll just be watching you die if you’re one of them. Now, where did you get the ’74? Did they issue it to you?”
“Damn it to hell,” the man snarled. “I got it off one of them dead sons of bitches that came through last fall—them sons of bitches that burned out everyone around here. Now, don’t you go accusing me of being one of them. You’ll have to pull that trigger if you do!”
Seeing fire in the man’s eyes, Jessie relaxed his grip, lowered the hammer gently, and rotated his holster back into place. “I guess we’ve got a few things in common, then,” Jessie conceded.
“So much for the daughter story,” the man chided. “That fell apart pretty damn quick. So, on to the truth: them militia boys that came through—where are they?”
“All but one is dead. He’s running interference for us now so we can get some distance between us and those bastards in the Hind. So, if you would please call your friends off, if there really are any, and step aside, we need to get moving.”
Hanging his head low, the man mumbled, “Damn it all to hell. Them was some nice boys. Damn shame it is.”
“You knew them?” Jessie asked.
“No. Not really. But we gave them safe passage through the area. We knew where they were headed and wished the best to them. Such a shame, damn it. Such a shame.”
