Watchers in the Woods

by William W. Johnstone

  Jones grabbed Peyton’s still-warm body and dragged it out of sight just as the sounds of gunfire reached them.

  “Who’s doin’ all that shootin’?” Monroe hollered.

  “Sounds like it’s comin’ from up the crick,” Marwood shouted. “I’ll check it out. God damn it, I wanted me some nigger pussy.”

  Marwood stepped out of the stairwell, shoved Polly to the floor and turned in time to see the face of Norman, savage and angry. Marwood opened his mouth to scream and Norm jammed the muzzle of his Mini-14 all the way through Marwood’s throat. Marwood jerked and grunted, his boots doing a jazzy little doo-wa-diddy number on the dusty floor as he hung impaled on the muzzle of the weapon. Norm jerked the muzzle out, the sight pulling out tendons and muscles. Matt caught Marwood before he could hit the floor and cause a lot of unnecessary noise and dragged him out of sight.

  Norm jerked Polly off the floor and pushed her against a far wall. “The kids?” he whispered.

  “Coming up,” she said. “Honey, I have never been so glad to see you.”

  “Stay right here,” he told her. “In the shadows.”

  “Marwood, God damn it!” Monroe bellered. “Who the hell’s doin’ all that shootin’?”

  Unable to speak, Marwood farted.

  The sounds of shots came up from the tunnels.

  “The guide’s back yonder a-shootin’ at us!” a CWA man yelled.

  More shots.

  “Both of ’em’s back yonder. Oscar’s been hit in the leg.”

  “Get up the damn stairs, all you people. Comin’ up, Marwood, the government people’s in front. You watch ’em, now, you hear me?”

  Matt, Norm, and Jones slipped back into the shadows of the huge, empty old office. Dennis and Wade lay on the floor. Dennis was semi-conscious, but Wade was fully alert and had a smile on his face. He winked at Jones. Jones returned the wink and the smile as heavy rain lashed the structure and strengthening winds shook it.

  Susan was carrying Johnny, unconscious, in her arms. They were the first to climb out of the stairs and onto the ground floor. The rest of the campers quickly followed. Matt stepped from the shadows, startling the tired and scared group. He waved them to a secure corner and stepped into the doorway. He leveled his Mini-14 and started working the trigger into the candlelit gloom below him.

  Matt gave the CWA thirty rounds. Sounds of moaning and screaming drifted up to the ground floor.

  “We yield!” Monroe squalled. “Oh, my God, look at all the blood. We quit! We quit!”

  “Nick!” Matt yelled. “You all right?”

  “I’m fine,” came the faint shout. “Dan’s with me.”

  “Prod these scummy bastards up top, will you?”

  “My pleasure, Matt. What’s left of them, that is.”

  “We’re surrounded by Sataws and normal-appearing people, Matt,” Jones said. “I can see the SEAL team. They’ve been forced to take cover behind some rocks about two hundred yards upstream.”

  “You ladies start reinforcing these old walls,” Matt said. “Those old tables in there,” he pointed into an adjoining room, “will do for a start. Traci, you take charge of the kids. Keep them low and out of sight.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Johnny was sitting up, his mouth swollen from the blow. He looked over and saw Marwood. The man was still alive, but not for long. He was jerking his legs and beating his hands and making all sorts of very disgusting sounds as he lay in his own gathering blood on the dirty and rat-shit-littered floor.

  “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy,” the boy said. He followed Traci out of the room, both of them growing up very fast.

  Monroe entered the ground floor, his hands behind his head. He was followed by Jim Bob, Luther, Carl, Seymour, Darnell, and the wounded Oscar.

  “I got to have me some help for my leg,” Oscar moaned.

  “You want me to shoot you?” Matt asked him.

  Oscar shut up.

  “Tom is a supporter of the CWA,” Susan said.

  “Tie him up with the rest of these scumbags,” Matt said. He opened his radio pack and bumped the SEAL team. “We’ve secured the mining complex . . . at least the main building. All the civilians are safe. How is your situation?”

  “We’re in pretty good shape, Husky. We just can’t move. I talked to the ranger team. They’re about five miles south of us, and pushing hard. But we’re gonna have to hold out for a couple of hours at least.”

  “That’s ten-four. We can do it. We’ll spot for you and you do the same for us.”

  “Ten-four.”

  Two shots rang out from below. “I just tended to the wounded,” Nick called.

  “Oh, Lord, Lord!” Jim Bob hollered. “We done fell into the hands of savages!”

  9

  “The Sataws and breakaways won’t enter the tunnel,” Nick explained to Matt. “But the civilians comin’ in to help them will. So me and Dan got into the CWA’s supplies and rigged some surprises for any who try the tunnel through the mountain entrance. We’ll know when or if they try,” he added dryly.

  “C-4?” Matt asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Where’d you learn to use that stuff?”

  “Watchin’ the forest service people blow beaver dams.” He took his binoculars and sighted in the pinned down SEAL team just two hundred yards upstream. “Them boys look like they eat rocks for breakfast,” he noted. “They’re in a damn good position. I think they’ll fare all right.”

  “We’ve got to hold out for a couple of hours until that ranger platoon gets here,” Matt told the group. “As soon as the weather breaks, we’ll be airlifted out of here.”

  “Damn sure have plenty of ammunition and guns,” Dan said. “We’re in a good position. We’re up high and looking down at them. I think the Sataws and breakaways and those helping them will pull out as soon as they see they can’t accomplish anything by staying here. As soon as scouts get word to them about that force of rangers coming up, they’ll take off. We’ll just be too many for them.”

  “I demand that these ropes be removed from my wrists,” Tom said.

  “Shut up, puke!” Dan told him. “I heard you give your wife and child to these trash. Any more mouth from you and I’ll personally kill you.”

  “What’s a-gonna become of us?” Carl asked.

  “You’ll be tried for aggravated kidnapping, aggravated assault, aggravated battery, assault with a deadly weapon, attempted murder, attempted rape, and anything else I can think of,” Dennis told him. “Or,” he added, “just say the word and I’ll shoot you all right here and now.” He rubbed the lump on the back of his head. “I might just do it anyway.”

  “You don’t act like no Jew I ever knowed,” Darnell said. “You sure you full-blooded?”

  Dennis shook his aching head in disgust. “How do people get to be that ignorant?” he tossed the question out.

  “Some people say that trash begets trash,” Nick said. “But that ain’t always true. Tom’s a good example of that. I bet his mama and daddy is fine people.”

  “They are,” Susan said. “They’re wonderful people. Tom just lost his way somehow.”

  “Fuck you,” her husband told her. “Don’t worry,” he said, turning his head to look at Monroe. “You’re not going to be tried for anything. The government wants the lid to remain on this entire tribe matter. If they tried you, you could blow this thing wide open. Relax, boys, you’re home free.”

  “I lak you!” Oscar said. “That there is a fine plan, ain’t it, Monroe?”

  “Shore is.”

  Matt and Nick exchanged glances.

  “Here they come!” Jones called from his lookout post. “And they’re coming in one hell of a bunch.”

  “Get the kids on the floor and everybody into position,” Matt yelled.

  Then there was no more time for talk as the breakaway tribe members and the Sataws and the civilians rushed the complex . . . and died before they made the steps, front, sides, or rear. />
  The rain slackened for just a few moments, giving the men in the second floor office clear targets, and they made every shot count. Dan and Nick were together on the south side of the building, and their aim was deadly. They were fighting for their lives, and while Matt knew it must have hurt the men to kill beings whose’ very blood still ran in their veins, the men did not hesitate.

  One Sataw climbed up the sheer face of the conveyer tower and leaped in through the window less frame, landing on Dennis’s back, knocking the man to the ground. Milli split the creature’s skull with a camp ax, and he rolled off her husband to lie jerking and dying on the floor.

  “Did he scratch you or bite you, son?” Dan called.

  “No, sir—just scared the hell out of me.”

  “Check him over and be sure,” Nick called, shoving a fresh clip into the belly of his weapon. “If you find a scratch, treat it promptly with alcohol or Merthiolate.”

  Wade and Frank dragged the dead Sataw to a window and heaved it out.

  “What causes the bad odor, Nick?” Matt asked, during a break in the fighting.

  “I don’t know. Accordin’ to my daddy, that didn’t start until the late 1880s, so he was told. All the minin’ that went on done something to the water in this area. Then the water done something to throw the tribe’s system all out of balance.”

  “Then that may be the key to straightening out the urge to kill?” Susan said.

  “Could be,” the guide said. “But it ain’t gonna help them crazy folks layin’ out yonder dead in the rain, now, is it?”

  A tremendous explosion from far under them sent belches of dust and smoke burping out of the stairwell.

  “They tried the mountain entrance,” Dan said, a grim smile on his tanned face.

  “Closed forever,” Nick said. “And I, for one, am damned glad of it.”

  “That’s it,” Jones called a moment later from his post. “They’re pulling back into the timber, civilians and . . . creatures. They’ve had it.”

  “So have I,” Matt said, sinking to the floor. “I’m so goddamn tired I’m numb.” He pulled the radio to him and bumped the SEAL team. “I think that’s it, boys.”

  “Yeah, they seem to be hightailing it out of here. We felt the ground tremble a minute ago. Did you experience that?”

  “Ten-four. We boobytrapped the tunnels under us with C-4. Some hostiles triggered it.”

  “That’s ten-four. We’re going to sit tight for a few more minutes and then we’ll be in.”

  “We have you in visual,” the voice popped into Matt’s ear. “I’m Lieutenant Davidson, 2/75 Rangers. Is the fighting over?”

  “Yes, thank God,” Matt told him.

  “Aw, shit!” said the ranger.

  * * *

  The storm picked up, and this time it was accompanied by some of the most wicked lightning any of them could ever remember seeing. The military dragged the dead out of the weather to take pictures, then covered up the bodies as best they could, and then bedded down wherever they could find a dry spot and settled in to eat, rest, and ride out the storm.

  The military took the prisoners away, retied them, and read them the riot act as to what was going to happen to their bodies should any of them try to make a break. Darnell opined, rather mournfully, that it seemed to him that the soldier boys wanted them to try to run for it.

  “What about him?” the SEAL team leader asked, looking at Tom.

  “Technically, he hasn’t done anything,” Matt said. “Except for what I told you.”

  “Ought to shoot the son-of-a-bitch just for that.”

  “I’ll sue you, you goddamned ox!” Tom yelled at the man.

  It took four other SEALs to restrain their team leader.

  Tom wisely decided to keep his mouth shut.

  Matt caught a few hours’ sleep that afternoon and woke to the sounds of silence. It confused him for a moment. Then he realized the storm had passed and the rain had stopped. He sat up, looking around him. Late afternoon was settling over the land. He stretched, getting the kinks out of his muscles. The others were asleep, sprawled around the room. He picked his way silently out of the big room and walked outside, then down the old steps to the ground. He joined a group of SEALs and rangers around a fire built under a roof overhang and gratefully accepted a cup of coffee.

  “Choppers will be in at dawn,” the SEAL team leader informed him. “We’ll go out with you folks. Lieutenant Davidson and his bunch will escort Nick and Dan over to the tribe site and get them ready for evac.”

  So it appeared to be over in the wilderness. But Matt had a suspicion that it was far from over where the outside was concerned.

  “What are you going to do about the prisoners?” Lieutenant Davidson asked.

  “I don’t know,” Matt admitted. “But after I drink this coffee, I’m going to find out.”

  “Dispose of them, Husky,” Jaguar told him.

  “I can’t do that. Lord knows they deserve it, and I’ve been involved in assassinations before, but I’m not going to line these men up and shoot them.”

  “Are you experiencing some sort of midlife crisis, Husky? Male menopause, maybe?”

  “No. And if the President orders me to shoot them, I will. But that order has got to come from the top.”

  “I could get the SEALs to put them down.”

  “I doubt it. Patch me through to Richard.”

  “Stand by, Husky.”

  “Richard here, Matt.”

  “I absolutely refuse to shoot these CWA men, Rich, even though they certainly deserve it. The story of what’s going on in here will hit the news within a week and you know it. Let’s keep these CWA people on ice until that happens. Then they won’t have any bargaining chip to throw on the table. The government can then try them and put them in prison for the rest of their lives. If you want them dead in here, you’re going to have to send someone else in to do it.”

  “I have a better plan.”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  Matt listened, signed off, and walked over to the military. “Your boss wants you to off the CWA?” the SEAL leader asked.

  “Yeah. I had an attack of conscience and refused the order. I must be getting old. He came up with an option.” Matt briefed the SEAL team leader and several rangers. The men smiled.

  “I think that’s a very nice gesture on the part of your boss,” a ranger said.

  “Just lovely,” the SEAL said. “Almost brings tears of joy to my eyes.”

  “What about that sleazebag Dalton?” Davidson asked.

  “That problem is still to be resolved. Shall we go break the good news to the CWA?” Matt asked.

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  The men of the CWA tensed as the group approached them. They began to beg and sweat as knives were brought out. Jim Bob pissed his underwear as the big SEAL team leader stepped up to him and smiled.

  “I promise I’ll be good from now on!” Jim Bob blurted. “I’ll go to church, I’ll never call a nigger a nigger again. I . . .”

  “Shut up!”

  Jim Bob shut up.

  The ropes binding the CWA were cut. They sat on the dusty floor and rubbed their wrists and ankles and wondered what in the hell was going on.

  “Hit’s a farin’ squad!” Luther said. “They gonna shoot us all.”

  “I wanna write my mama!” Oscar said.

  “I wanna go to the bathroom,” Seymour said.

  “This is agin the Constitution!” Monroe said. “We all got rights.”

  “Sure you do,” Matt told him. “Stand up and get outside.”

  The men walked outside. Darnell started praying. Carl was shaking so bad he couldn’t hold his canteen to take a drink of water. Jim Bob pissed in his pants again.

  Luther hollered, “Help! Help! Somebody come help us.”

  “I protest this!” Tom Dalton yelled, running up and seeing what he thought was going on. “I represent these men and I demand they be tried in a court
of law.”

  The SEAL team leader had taken an immense dislike for Tom Dalton. He stared at the man and finally controlled his more primitive urges—barely.

  “Sorry, Tom,” Matt told him. “But they’re not going to be tried in any court of law.”

  “This is murder!” the lawyer yelled.

  Dennis and Wade and the other civilians had gathered around.

  “Murder?” Matt questioned. “Who is talking about murder? I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Yes,” Davidson said. “I certainly wouldn’t take part in any murder.”

  “Nor would I,” the SEAL said. “That would be against the law. I couldn’t condone anything like that. Tsk, tsk, what an appalling thought.”

  “Help!” Luther bellered.

  “Why are you screaming for help?” the SEAL asked. “Nobody is going to hurt you.”

  “Whut you mean?” Monroe asked.

  “You are all free to go,” Matt told them.

  “Lord have mercy!” Seymour hollered. “We’re free at last!”

  “Thank you,” Norm said with a smile as Polly laughed.

  “Free to go?” Monroe said, looking around him at the gloom of the timber. “Go where?”

  “Anywhere you want to go,” Matt told him. “But you can’t stay here.”

  “I don’t wanna stay here!” Oscar said. “I wanna git gone and go home.”

  Monroe stared at Matt for a moment. “You son-of-a-bitch!” Monroe cussed him. “You rotten no-good lowlife bastard!”

  “Whut you cussin’ him for?” Luther asked. “He’s a-turnin’ us loose.”

  “Think about it,” Monroe said. “He ain’t gonna give us no guns. He’s sendin’ us out in the timber to die. Them damn links will kill us.”

  “I don’t know what’s going to happen to you,” Matt said, his voice emotionless. “But all charges against you have been dropped. As a federal agent, I’ve been instructed to order you all off federal land, and this is federal land. You must leave and leave now.”