The Broken and the Dead (Book 1)

by Jay Morris

“Don’t do it boy” Old Man Tucker said.

  Chad was so mad I though he was going to explode but he just cursed once more at Janey and then said to Old Man Tucker

  “I won’t forget this old man.”

  He started to walk backwards towards the warehouse.

  “Neither will I” was all Old Man Tucker said.

  I stood there with the world swimming around me, it was all madness, and I could not get my mind around what was going on. Mom was dead, Dad was missing, Lucy wasn’t speaking and Elaine was unpredictable. I shook my head and looked at the ground; Mrs. Driscol stayed with me and rubbed my back. I couldn’t process what she was saying but she gave me comfort. When Chad finally reached the wall of the warehouse he thumped back against it and slowly slid down the wall. Old Man Tucker looked around at the rest of us and said

  “Can we figure out what we have? I have been out of it for quite a while and am not too sure of what is going on.”

  Mrs. Driscol said that we could do that and she asked Janey to inventory what was in the back of the Humvee and she would do the SUV. Mrs. Driscol asked Elaine to help her but my sister just ignored her. Old Man Tucker was exhausted and still weak and he was trying to keep an eye on Chad as he in turn just sat against the building glaring back at him. Mr. Tucker came over to me and asked me to keep guard for a minute and he walked over to his bag which was sitting on the ground near a stack of pallets. He rummaged around for a moment then walked back to me,

  “John, can I see your revolver please?”

  I looked at him, not sure what he wanted it for but I took it from my holster and handed it to him. He pulled a rod on the front of the gun and slipped the cylinder from the frame and replaced it with another one. He handed it back to me and said

  “I saw you were running low on .22 and figured it was time to upgrade your gun. It now is a .22 mag, more power, and with a hollow point they will do some damage.”

  He bent over and removed a few boxes of ammo and much to my surprise, Billy’s revolver.

  “I think Billy would want you to have his gun and I have already swapped cylinders on it.”

  He slid it into a holster and handed it to me. I looked at him and somehow had trouble reconciling this shy, thoughtful man with the cold hearted killer I have seen him be. I figured that he was only what he had to be and times are hard now, so he was hard. But Old Man Tucker was never mean just to be mean but he wouldn’t mess around either. I reached out and took Billy revolver and said

  “Thank you Mr. Tucker.” He nodded and turned away. “I am going to make us all something to eat while the ladies are sorting things out.” As he did the image of him kneeling behind the S.U.V. kept playing over in my head. Something just would not add up.

  We sat around the fire eating fried spam and potato chips. Mrs. Driscol and Janey had compiled a list; In addition to our medical kits we had half a dozen M-16s but only about 300 rounds for them. We had 7 Beretta M9s and almost 400 rounds for them. We had dozens of magazines so that wasn’t going to be an issue. We still had about 40 rounds for the Berthiers should things get desperate. We had Mr. Caulfield’s 10 gauge shotgun but only a dozen rounds for it. Elaine still had two full boxes for her Nagant and I had 150 rounds of .22 magnum. Elaine also had the AK-47 she had taken from the gun in the shopping center but only had what was in the clip for it, 18 rounds she said.

  As far as ammo went the best we had was a full “sardine can”, 440 rounds of 7.62mm for the Moisan but we had only brought one of the three from Tuckers collection. We had 40 MREs and two boxes of miscellaneous canned goods; we had several boxes of high protein meal bars a case of mixed sodas and two cases of water. Of greatest concern was fuel. We had about a quarter tank in the Humvee and only two 5 gallons cans of diesel for it; the SUV was better off with almost ¾ of a tank but with no back up cans.

  We dumped the diesel fuel into the Humvee and tied the empties to the roof of the SUV. Mr. Tucker and Mrs. Driscol got some things together and stacked them near the fire. There was a little medical kit, a dozen MREs, and 10 bottles of water and lastly one of the M9s with two full clips of 9mm for it. Old Man Tucker held it up for Chad to see, Chad responded by raising his middle finger. Old Man Tucker set the pistol on top and then turned to us and asked if we were ready. We all said that we were and Mrs. Driscol and Janey had picked out a route for us and she said that we should be at the lodge by nightfall. Mrs. Driscol, Janey, and the Moreno’s would ride in the SUV. Elaine, Lucy, and I would ride with Old Man Tucker. We all got in our assigned vehicles and I saw Janey, her arms crossed over her chest looking back at Chad, she gave him a little wiggly finger wave goodbye. Chad gave her the same gesture he had given Old Man Tucker.

  The miles slipped by, I knew we were close after two detours that had added almost 400 miles to our journey, I wanted the trip to be over but I was worried about the confrontation between Mr. Franks and Old Man Tucker. I suspected that Mr. Tucker was not interested in negotiation. I was halfway dozing and Lucy was asleep in Elaine’s lap when I heard her speak very softly to Old Man Tucker.

  “It was my fault” she said.

  “What was?” Tucker asked.

  “All of it, Mom, Billy, the soldiers, all of them died because of me.”

  Mr. Tucker kept driving and all I could do was repeat in my mind

  “It was my fault, it was my fault”, it was all I could do to not start crying. I felt as if I was going to be sick but I remained silent. After a few moments Old Man Tucker asked her

  “Why was it your fault?”

  A few more moments then in an icy voice Elaine said

  “It was my idea to rescue the others; I thought we could do it, I wanted to save them I wanted to hurt the crazies, if I had said no then we wouldn’t have done it.”

  Then her voice cracked and I knew she was on the verge of breaking down. Old Man Tucker waited until he was sure she was done speaking when he asked

  “What do you mean ‘if you said no’, did you make the decision?”

  Elaine just let her chin sag to her chest she whispered so quietly “we voted.”

  There was another awkward pause the Old Man Tucker said

  “I see, well, even if it were your idea, enough people voted to take the chance and you know what? If I had been awake I would have voted to try too so you can get that out of your mind Elaine, they all made a decision, we all make decisions, sometimes we are right and sometimes we are wrong. Sometimes we do things that we regret, things that burn a hole in our hearts and keep us from living.”

  He took a deep breath, perhaps giving Elaine a chance to speak but she said nothing so he went on to say

  “Sometimes we do things that are good, and brave and kind. Things that make us smile in spite of the pain of what may be happening.”

  Still Elaine remained silent and so did Old Man Tucker for almost five minutes then he said

  “Elaine, I don’t want you to tell the others, but after I killed the monster, your mother was still alive but she was in terrible pain, she was…”

  Old Man Tucker’s voice trailed off and Elaine picked up where he left off.

  “You shot her?”

  I could hear the old man’s breathing it was ragged and I thought he was going to cry, he said in a voice so soft, so quiet I could not believe it was him:

  “She asked me to”.

  My head was spinning, my mouth was full of dust. He had killed her, Tucker had killed my mom. I thought my head would explode. I bit my lip in silence till I tasted blood.

  There was silence again for several moments and I opened one eye just a little. I could see Elaine’s hand resting on Old Man Tucker’s shoulder. Elaine then said

  “Mr. Tucker, I saw Mom’s face, she had a smile on it. I had been trying to understand that.”

  Old Man Tucker said something that lives with me till today he said

  “Everyone dies, everyone, and the greatest gift you can give is to die for those you love. It gives purpose and meaning to your life
beyond all doubt. Your mother had just saved Lucy, she had saved me, and she was content.”

  They didn’t talk after that, Elaine cried some more but it wasn’t the same, this was grief, this was loss but it was not the agony of the guilty. Elaine would survive this but I held my hurt, my sense of betrayal inside, I was unable to deal with Old Man Tuckers betrayal. I prayed silently for Elaine and for Lucy but even at the tender age of 12 I was beginning to doubt if anyone was listening.

  Around two in the afternoon Mrs. Driscol pulled over to the side of the road and got out. She waited until Old Man Tucker pulled over behind her. We all got out, even Lucy who would not leave Elaine’s side. She was the one I was most worried about, she hadn’t spoken and it was her turn to show no emotion. I think that is what the army called ‘the 1,000 yard stare’. Old Man Tucker waited for Mrs. Driscol to speak and she waited until everyone was gathered around her.

  “Okay, far as I can tell we are only about 10 miles out from the exit we need and from there only about 3 miles on the service road to the private road that leads to the lodge. So, now what?”

  Mrs. Driscol asked. We all looked at Old Man Tucker, this was his show now, he was the one who made this bed, and not it was time to sleep in it. Old Man Tucker look a folded map from his back pocket and laid it out on the hood of the SUV.

  “Been thinkin’ bout that Mrs. Driscol.” he began.

  “Amy” she corrected.

  “Right, well, look at this, there is a visitor center on the service road on the opposite side of the highway. We should go there, clear it if necessary, then you all wait there and I will go talk to the Franks.” he said.

  “Kill them, you mean.” Elaine interjected in a cold and steady voice.

  Old Man Tucker looked around at each of us,

  “I won’t hurt Mrs. Franks unless I have to, but yes, I intend to kill him.”

  Janey looked very uncomfortable but seemed as if she had to ask: “Did this Franks guy actually do something that deserves death?”

  Old Man Tucker explained briefly Mr. Frank’s sins as he saw them, but in my mind what he had done was far worse, Old Man Tucker had killed my mother and I was going to make him pay for it.

  “So what exactly do you have in mind?” Mrs. Driscol asked.

  “I thought Elaine could drive me to the private road, she could stay in the SUV. If things go south she just takes off and comes back here, if it goes as I hope it does then I hump it back and send Elaine back to get everyone else.” Old Man Tucker said.

  Mrs. Driscol looked unsure and Janey just tried to not make eye contact.

  “Sounds okay to me” Elaine said.

  That brought violent, if silent, objections from Lucy who started to sob and pull on Elaine’s arm. Elaine started to tell her that it would be okay or something like that when Old Man Tucker knelt down in front of her. I heard him ‘huff’ with the effort and both his knees cracked as he did it. He waited until Lucy looked at him and made eye contact. Slowly he raised his huge hand, his thick, scared fingers stretched out and with gentleness I didn’t think possible he carefully pulled Lucy’s hair back and tucked it behind her left ear. He carefully rested his palm against her cheek. In a voice nearly imperceptible he said

  “Miss Lucy, you are absolutely correct, we cannot spare Elaine for this mission. We need her and you and Ronald Bear here, just to keep everyone safe. Isn’t that right?”

  After a moment she nodded and he smiled a deep sad smile. He groaned as he stood up and arched his back. “Ouch…” he said. He took a deep breath and said

  “How about this, Mrs. Driscol...”

  “AMY.” she corrected again.

  “Umm...Right, Mrs. Driscol. If you could please just give me a ride to that spot you could leave and come back right away. You could come back in say an hour, if I am standing in the road, all is good, otherwise, you just head back to the visitor center and yall take off.”

  Mrs. Driscol seemed to be considering it when Old Man Tucker felt Lucy tugging on his sleeve.

  “Hmmm? What is it sunshine?” he said.

  She just tugged on it again so he leaned over so she could whisper in his ear. Suddenly, he started chuckling; he stood back up and said “really?” Lucy nodded then disappeared behind Elaine’s legs.

  “What?” I asked getting tired of this whole process.

  “She says we should just use the radios.” he was shaking his head and he asked “we have radios?”

  Mrs. Driscol laughed and said “I’ll get them.”

  She headed off to the SUV. I was seething. Those were the radios that Billy and I had used. Now HE was going to use them. Lucy’s arm snaked out from behind Elaine and she pinched Old Man Tucker. “Ow!” he said.

  “Oh right, she also said that ‘yall’ is not a word.”

  Satisfied, the delicate little arm disappeared behind Elaine with the rest of my little sister.

  We were lucky because when we got to the visitor center it was unoccupied, albeit it had been raided and everything edible had been taken from the smashed vending machines. It was finally agreed that Janey would drive the SUV. I would go with her to ride shotgun and act as radio operator. I told Old Man Tucker the call signs Desert -1 and Rock-3, the Humvee and the SUV, Sky-2, the other SUV now useless on the side of the road at the scene of our disaster. I told him he would be OMT.

  “OMT?” he asked. “Old Man Tucker” I spat, hoping to hurt his feelings but he laughed out loud.

  “I love it. That is a great call sign for me John.”

  I wasn’t buying it, all the good humor and acting all ‘nicey-nicey’ wasn’t going to save him. It took us a few minutes to get ready and get everyone else settled down for security. But if all else fails, they could just button up in the Humvee and hit the road. We could catch up with them with the radio. The one in the Humvee had a greater range than the little hand held units.

  We rode in silence until we got to the private road on the other side of the highway. OMT, as I now thought of him, smiled at me but was only met with a stony gaze from me.

  “Right then, keep your eyes out guys.” he said.

  Janey nodded and held up the radio and he held up his in response. OMT then turned and jogged (at least that is what I think he thought he was doing) up the private road. We did a radio check with Desert-1 and found they could read us loud and clear. We decided that since it seemed quiet we would just pull the SUV off the road and into some high brush so we could better keep a watch over things.

  Old Man Tucker moved into a row of Boxelder trees. Some were old growth and soared 70 or 80 feet high but the majority was new growth, more shrub than anything and they provided excellent cover for him. He moved slowly, a couple yards inside the brush. After about 15 minutes of steadily moving up a slow rise he could see a sprawling house. It was of log construction, but not vintage but rather one of those new prefab things with the factory cut logs. But what bothered OMT was the abundance of vehicles. In addition to the missing van, there were three others. One was an all-black Escalade, it sat high on huge, low profile tires mounted on polished chrome wheels. Another was a black Golf low-rider with multicolored flames painted across the grill and over the front fenders. The last was a silver Acura, this one also with very thin, low profile tires.

  It crossed OMT’s mind that such tires might be ugly and far over-priced but at least they made a car ride like a brick. There was music coming from the house, it was a song by a rapper named he thought was named Lil Dip Shit, it might be music anyway, but he wasn’t sure. The tune it sounded juvenile and talentless but that didn’t bother him too much. What did bother him was Mr. Franks. He was naked and chained to a base of a flag pole in the center of a circle drive. Mr. Franks had been beaten severely and his head was covered in dried blood. He thought Franks was still alive but he wasn’t sure. He moved a few yards closer and then slid into a rain gully that was shrouded in shadows.

  A few minutes later the front door was slammed open and the music offended T
uckers 1955 issue sensibilities even more. A black woman, perhaps in her late 20’s or early thirties dragged Mrs. Franks from the house by her hair; Mrs. Franks was wearing an oversized and blood stained ‘wife-beater’ shirt and nothing else, her ample backside and thick legs ,were pale and clearly bruised. She was screaming at her, OMT was not sure what she was saying. He couldn’t understand her vocabulary or her accent. Mrs. Franks was not screaming or resisting at all, she just took the abuse. Mrs. Franks was kicked in the back and she tumbled down the front steps. The black girl cursed her again and called her several names. A large black male, perhaps in his mid-thirties appeared at the door, he wasn’t wearing a shirt and his body was taut and well-muscled, he proudly displayed his iconic ‘six-pack abs’. He was laughing and he flicked a lit cigarette into the grass.

  The girl stepped down the steps and dragged Mrs. Franks back to them, she stepped away and left Mrs. Franks to crawl half-way up the stairs on her own accord. The girl went up and stood next to the man who promptly unzipped his jeans and urinated on Mrs. Franks. This caused great hilarity from inside. It was clear that the invaders (as he was already thinking of them) were using threats against her husband to control Mrs. Franks. Tucker’s mind clicked in some deep seated, prejudicial way, his ‘us vs them’ mentality was put into over-drive. They became somehow less than human to him; like the towel heads and camel-jockeys of the Gulf Wars, the gooks and slope heads of Viet Nam, the nips and krauts of World War II and probably just like in every other war ever fought. Soldiers who de-humanized their opposition, were not murderers in their own minds.

  To Tucker, the images and music portrayed in the once popular ‘gangsta’ culture, the crime shows on TV that showed everything in high contrast, the observed behaviors of two out of five people in the lodge, and his own unwillingness to see beyond his own pain and his own frame of reference, congealed into an over-simplified label: thug. A label without redeeming social value, a label that once worn, allowed him to kill without consideration or mercy. I don’t know why he pigeon-holed things like that, I don’t even know if he actually believed it, maybe somehow he had to do it in order to psychologically survive. All I know is that from that moment, the people in the hour were no more human to Tucker than the monsters that hunted us.