The other man was much older, in his early sixties. His hair was gray and cut short but he wore a long beard that hung a good six inches down the front of his shirt. Both men shook hands with Nathan.
“Gentleman. These are my elders. Mr. Ragnar.” He motioned to the older man. “And his son Ubbe.”
“How do you do?” Mr. Ragnar said, as Nathan introduced them. Handshakes were accepted around the room. When introductions were done, Nathan waved everyone into the large dining room where Mr. Ragnar and his son had just come from.
Jake started to follow but was stopped by Nathan. “Sorry kid. You’ll have to stay out here.”
“Oh come one Nate,” Jake pleaded. “I’ve come this far. Just let me sit in, I promise I won’t make a peep.”
“Sorry. Can’t do it.” Nathan pointed to the chairs they’d been sitting in.
Grudgingly Jake did as he was told. Reluctantly he sat down and began tapping his feet anxiously on the hardwood floor. After an hour, Tabitha came out and sat down next to him. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No I’m okay,” Jake said, looking down at his watch.
“Come now, what can I get for you?” she said, with a deep Southern accent. “A young boy like you must be thirsty.”
“I’ll take a Dr. Pepper if you’ve got it.” He smiled.
She patted him on the knee. “Coming right up.”
Something about the way she spoke was bothering Jake. It was almost as if she was right out of some civil war movie. Strange. Come to think of it, everyone in this town speaks with an accent, and not all of them southern.
Tabitha came back with a cold glass bottle of Dr. Pepper. Jake tasted it. His taste buds flooded with flavor. “Oh man.” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “That’s the best Dr. Pepper I’ve ever had.”
“Made with real cane sugar. None of that nasty corn syrup.” She smiled then walked back toward the kitchen. “Just let me know if there’s anything else I can get you.”
“Sure thing. Thank you!” he called after her.
“You are most welcome!” Her voice echoed against the walls.
Jake sat there for an additional two hours until finally breaking. He couldn’t take it any longer. He had to know what was going on in that room.
Jake rose to his feet and stretched. He looked around nonchalantly, making sure that Tabitha wasn’t anywhere in the immediate vicinity. Very slowly he began his walk toward the white doors. Black and white pictures adorned the walls on both sides of the large parlor. Jake couldn’t help but stop and glance at several of them. Most were of Ragnar and Ubbe dressed in Civil War attire.
“That’s weird,” Jake said, inspecting one of the larger portraits. Ragnar was dressed in a Confederate Uniform with two stars on the collar. “Guess they must really be into Civil War reenactments.”
The next picture appeared to be of Ragnar standing side by side with another Confederate General. Is that . . . no it can’t be. Jake leaned in closer. Is that General Lee? It sure as hell is! This can’t be Ragnar. It’s got to be his Great Grandfather or something. Amazing how much they look alike.
Raised voices from inside the dining room drew Jake’s attention away from the black and white photos and on to his original task. Guess it’s not going so well. He thought tiptoeing to the door.
“Your promises mean nothing to me,” Ragnar said in a heated tone. “Your government has never cared for my people. Everything it does revolves around money and greed. There is no truth, no honor in your words.”
“How can you say that?” Hernandez’s muffled voice replied. “What could we have possibly done to earn this level of suspicion and hatred?”
“Not all of us here have forgotten the war,” Ubbe’s angry voice boomed.
“War? What war?” Hernandez responded, clearly confused.
“The War.” Ubbe stated in a tone suggesting Hernandez was a fool for even asking. “The War of Northern Aggression.”
The room fell in complete silence.
“You must be joking,” Derek suddenly spoke up. “I mean, seriously? You’re still upset over the Civil War . . . a war that took place before our grandfathers were even born?”
“Watch your tone, boy,” Ragnar said. “There was nothing civil about that coward, Sherman’s march on Georgia.”
“Okay, I think we all need to take a deep breath and calm down,” Billy said trying to play the mediator. “We came here to ask for your help. That’s it. We both share the same enemy, so why not join forces?”
“Mr. Williams,” Ragnar said slowly, “I have nothing but respect for you and your Coalition. And it is my understanding that you, and most of your associates, are all capable and honorable men. It is your so called allies . . . these government tools that I cannot and will not tolerate.”
“Let me assure you,” Hernandez said in a sarcastic tone, “that myself and my people had absolutely nothing to do with Sherman marching on Atlanta, or the defeat at Gettysburg, or Reconstruction, or carpet baggers, or pretty much anything else that happened a hundred and fifty years ago.”
The outer doors suddenly opened and Jake quickly pulled his ear away and pretended to focus on a photo on the wall. A familiar voice echoed from down the hall. “My, my, it is cold out there!” he said coming into Jake’s line of sight.
The white haired man pulled off his coat and shook the snow from it before hanging it on a rack next to the door. “Tabitha my dear, I apologize but it seems I have gotten snow all over your nice clean floors.”
“Mr. Orwell!” Jake exclaimed walking toward him.
During his imprisonment at his grandfather’s, there had been one link to the outside world - a tutor that Riker had hired to give Jake the best education available. Other than his time spent visiting with Tiberius, it was the only good thing to come from the ordeal.
“Well, well!” Mr. Orwell smiled warmly. “What a wonderful surprise.”
Jake shook the man’s hand. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I live here!” Mr. Orwell laughed. “Well not here of course, but in Hometown. It is amazing to see you again Jacob. When the Riker place burned down I feared the worst. I can’t tell you how happy I was when Nathan assured me you had gotten out just fine.”
“You know Nathan?”
“Of course. Nathan and I have been friends for . . . my goodness, it seems like forever. It is really not that big of a coincidence when you think about it. After all, Hometown is a small town. No more than a few thousand people. Naturally everyone knows everyone else in one way or another. So tell me, Jacob, how are you doing?”
“I’m doing okay.” Jake nodded. “After I escaped the fire, I reconnected with my dad and grandpa and everything has been moving forward since.”
“Yes . . . the ‘fire.’” he said, making quotation marks with his fingers.
Does he know the truth? Jake wondered.
“So, what are you doing here now, just paying a visit to our fair little town?”
“Well, uh . . .” Jake said uncertainly. “I’m not really supposed to talk about it.”
“Oh? Top-secret then? Hush, hush business that you cannot talk about under penalty of death?”
“Actually it’s something exactly like that.”
Jake jumped when the doors to the dining room banged open violently. Billy, Hernandez, and Derek came out of the room, their faces white as a sheet. “What happened?” Jake asked, looking them over.
“Nothing, nothing,” Billy said.
“Let’s go!” Hernandez added, heading for the front door.
“It was good to see you again, lad.” Mr. Orwell smiled gripping Jake’s hand in both of his. “I’ve got a meeting with one of my oldest friends now but I hope to see you again soon.”
“Good to see you again too, Mr. Orwell,” Jake said.
“Ian.” Nathan nodded at Mr. Orwell as he passed him in the hall.
“Nathan.” He replied with a friendly nod. He stepped into the la
rge dining room and closed the doors behind him.
Unable to hold it any longer, Nathan suddenly broke into intense laughter. Jake noticed several of the buttons on his shirt were undone. “Nate? What the heck happened in there?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he laughed even harder, patting Jake on the shoulder.
“What’s so funny?” Jake furrowed his brow.
“Nothing, really,” Nathan held up his hand trying to stop. “I’m sorry Jake. It’s just . . . I don’t think Billy and your government friends were expecting that!”
“Expecting what exactly?” Jake said, growing slightly angry. “Just what is going on around here?”
Nathan’s laughter finally stopped and he took a deep breath. “Well long story short we couldn’t come to an agreement.”
“That’s what’s funny?”
“Not exactly,” Nathan said, wiping the tears from his eyes. “I’m sorry Jake. I tried, I really did. But Ragnar is set in his ways. He just doesn’t trust Hernandez’s superiors.”
“Well, that’s alright Nate.” Jake lowered his head in defeat. “At least we tried.”
“Don’t beat yourself up kid. The offer for any member of your Coalition to take refuge here still stands. Anytime you need to get away you are all welcome here.”
“Thanks Nate. I guess that’s something. Can you tell me one thing though?”
“Depends, what’s the question?”
“How do you keep the vampires at bay? I mean, my friend’s dad says they’ve never crossed the Mississippi. Not a single case.”
“Oh they cross.” Nathan frowned. “You know that first hand.”
“Yeah but you guys beat them back like they were nothing.”
“I wish I could tell you Jake, but as Mr. Hernandez put it, orders are orders.”
Jake shook his head. “I wish people would stop treating me like a kid.”
“You’ll understand one day, Jake. I promise. Now, let’s get you back to the Tear Drop, and then I’ve got some BIG dinner plans for you guys. You’ll dine like kings on some great Southern cuisine tonight, I promise.”
******
The flight home was an uncomfortable one to say the least. Billy, Derek, and Hernandez hadn’t said, more than a few words the entire rest of the trip. Making things even more uncomfortable was that Mr. Orwell sat quietly reading a paperback in the row across from Jake.
A deal had been struck for him to tutor Jake and the other recruits. Billy had agreed to set him, his wife, and their six sons up in a house in San Angelo along with a generous yearly salary for the remainder of the training program. He hadn’t been apprised to all of the details surrounding why he was being asked to teach a bunch of teenagers involved in some top-secret covert military training and to everyone’s complete surprise, he hadn’t asked. The rest of his family was supposed to follow with all of their possessions in the next few days.
“So Mr. Orwell,” Secretary Hernandez said, trying to make some polite small talk, “I understand you have a Masters in history.”
“That is correct sir,” Mr. Orwell laid the book down in his lap. “As well as mathematics, economics, and English literature.”
Derek whistled through his teeth. “Quite a resume. How did you find time to get that many degrees?”
“I have always had a passion for learning, even when I was a young boy. Especially history. So I make the time whenever I can to take some courses, learn something that I did not know before.”
“History, huh? I’ve always been interested in Greek mythology myself. I know it’s not exactly history per se, but I’ve always found it fascinating. Is there any particular time of interest that you enjoy exploring?” Derek asked.
“The Roman Empire has always drawn me in.” Mr. Orwell answered looking directly at Jake. “Most notably the reign of Emperor Tiberius Julius Caesar Augustus.”
He knows . . . Jake thought, his face going pale. He knows about the Maker in Riker’s dungeon. But how? Did he come across him like I did? Did he know the whole time? How could he possibly know?
Mr. Orwell smiled at him from the corner of his mouth then returned to his novel. An hour later he rose to use the restroom. Jake couldn’t hold it in any longer, he had to know. He looked back making sure the door was closed. “Okay guys, you can be as mad as you want, but I’ve just got to ask. What happened in that room?”
Billy looked over at Hernandez then looked back out the window. “Hair . . . there was so much hair.” was all he said. But it was enough.
Jake put two and two together, his eyes growing large. He hadn’t imagined the creatures in the moonlight. It all made sense now. Nathan, the big hairy creature carrying him that night the vampires attacked Riker’s. I knew it! He thought with a grin. “Wow.” he said aloud.
“Yeah. Wow.” Derek repeated. “I thought I’d seen it all. Boy was I wrong.”
“What are they?” Jake asked no one in particular.
“I don’t know,” Billy said shaking his head, “but if what they told us is true, they can sure kill the hell out some vampires.”
Mr. Orwell came back from the bathroom and took his seat ending the rest of Jake’s questions save one. Jake waited until Billy, Hernandez, even Derek were napping before asking. He looked over at his teacher, “Mr. Orwell,” he whispered softly. “Is he still alive?”
Mr. Orwell didn’t even look up from his book or pretend he didn’t know what Jake was talking about. “Yes. He is still imprisoned but he is still alive. If you can call that miserable existence living.”
It was enough so Jake didn’t ask him to elaborate. Tiberius was still alive. He couldn’t help but smile.
“Be careful young man,” Mr. Orwell said quietly. “Whatever your feelings about that creature, always remember that a leopard cannot change its spots.”
Chapter 6
Jake
The Williams Ranch
May 17, 1999, 8:30pm
After the trip to Georgia Jake’s training performance returned to the standard it had been before he got sick. He finished the The Playground a full three minutes faster than Buck’s best time, which strangely didn’t make him nearly as happy as it would have before Buck’s intervention, during what the other recruits had started calling the Ortega Incident.
Mr. Orwell had taken to the position as their tutor like a duck to water. His lessons took place during the time that used to be occupied by Hunters. It had become increasingly hard to find Hunters willing to teach lessons with so many profitable hunts becoming available, so that three hour time slot was filled with world history, math, science, and various other courses.
Jake had a thousand questions he wanted to ask Mr. Orwell about Tiberius and exactly how much he knew, but the elderly gentleman refused to answer any more. “You’ve got your secrets,” he said motioning around the Williams Ranch. “I’ve got mine.”
“That’s not fair,” Jake had responded. “We both know you know more about this place than you’re letting on.”
Mr. Orwell had smiled politely and walked away from the conversation. Practically the same thing had happened every time Jake had broached the subject. Eventually he gave up.
A full week before the end of their first break, Jake and the other guys made plans for something big. Each knew the odds of it succeeding were slim, but they had to try.
One night after their lesson with Mr. Orwell was over and they were finishing up their evening meal, Jake, Buck, Chris, and Donnie sat around the large table in the mess hall making their plans. “So . . . who’s going to do it?” Chris asked.
“Not me.” Buck answered, shaking his head. “Ortega is still pissed at me for coming to Jake’s rescue.”
“Rescue? I wouldn’t exactly call it a rescue. Intervention maybe, definitely not a rescue,” Jake replied. “Ortega was going down for the count when you came in.”
“Yeah and I’m the King of Siam.” Buck snickered. “If I hadn’t gotten there when I did that big Mexican would have kicked your ass
all over Billy’s office.”
“I cannot believe I missed that!” Donnie exclaimed for the hundredth time. “Dammit Buck! Why didn’t you come get me?!”
“It was brutal man.” Buck laughed. “Jake was all like: No Drill Sergeant Ortega! Please don’t hurt me! And Ortega was like: ‘You’re dead pandejo! I’m going to rip your gringo head off!’”
Jake grabbed a roll from the center of the table and tossed it at Buck’s head. “That’s not how it happened.” He said shaking his head.
Just months before Jake had hated Buck to his very core. Now he found himself not minding the young Turner’s sarcasm, wit, and general disregard for the feelings of his teammates. Once he’d gotten past all of that, he’d learned to accept Buck for who and what he was. An asshole. But an asshole that had saved him from one very pissed off Drill Sergeant, though Jake would never openly admit it.
“Seriously! How did I miss that?!” Donnie exclaimed again. “Wait, Buck, why were you in the ranch house to begin with?”
“Uh . . . no reason,” Buck answered looking away.
“Buck?” Donnie asked giving him a knowing look.
“Yeah that’s right!” Jake exclaimed. “I never thought of it. What were you doing in there?”
“Alright! Alright!” he lowered his voice. “I was sneaking food from the pantry.”
“You little bastard,” Donnie said grabbing up another roll and lobbing it Buck.
“Stop throwing rolls at me!” Buck yelled out. “Geez, I was hungry! Don’t get me wrong, I like Chef’s food just fine, but he doesn’t have nearly the amount of goodies Billy and Sandra have stashed away.”
“Unbelievable.” Jake shook his head. “I go in to make a phone call to possibly help the Coalition, you go in to sneak some cupcakes and I’m the one to catch an ass beating. Unfreakingbelievable.”
“Ah ha! So you admit you were getting pounded!” Buck exclaimed.
“Nope.” Jake shook his head. “It didn’t happen. No way, no how.”
“Guys!” Chris said banging his hand on the table. “We don’t have time for this. We have to find out by tomorrow morning if we’re going to be able to go.”
C.O.T.V.H. (Book 2): Judgment Page 12
