Lie Down in Green Pastures

by Debbie Viguié

  Forty feet to go.

  Good, a convertible with its top removed. Breathe.

  Thirty feet.

  Dive through the passenger opening, knife extended. Breathe.

  Twenty feet.

  Whoever this guy is, he knows how to wrestle that Jeep. Breathe.

  Ten feet.

  One last breath. Tense up the proper muscles. Get ready . . . ready . . . steady . . . NOW!

  Jeremiah sprang through the passenger opening with his outstretched arm tipped with the skinned knife blade. One foot from the man's throat, he realized who it was.

  NO! Paul . . . it's Paul . . . Hold . . . Hold . . . NO!

  Jeremiah jerked his hand to the right, just missing Paul's throat, and slammed into him with full force. Both men went flying out the driver side entrance and landed about five feet down the slope from the road.

  "Umphhh!" issued from Paul's throat as all the wind was knocked from him. He was unconscious.

  Close . . . so very close. Jeremiah stood and, taking Paul's feet, turned him around so that his head was elevated. Using his hand, he scooped some water from a puddle and sprinkled Paul's face.

  The Jeep had continued for a few feet, then flipped over onto the driver's side. The engine was racing. Jeremiah ran up and turned off the ignition.

  Maybe we can right this . . . Sure . . . with ten men and a boy, maybe . . . or . . . two men and fourteen kids, yeah. Jeremiah climbed back to where Paul was lying.

  Paul was starting to revive.

  "Come on . . . wake up!" Jeremiah splashed more muddy rainwater on Paul's face.

  "Whaaa. . . ." Paul said, reaching for his sidearm. "What happened and who are y . . . Jeremiah! Thank heaven, I have been looking for you. Where are the kids? What happened at the summer camp? Did you see what happened? Was it an accident? What hit me? Why am I covered in mud?"

  "Take it easy. Breathe a little. The kids are all fine and unless I miss my guess are fast asleep."

  Jeremiah wasn't sure that Paul got that, but his anxious expression was starting to relax. Paul gingerly raised himself onto his elbows. Taking a few quick breaths, he tensed and then stood up in one smooth motion.

  He didn't learn that at the police academy.

  "Asleep?" Paul asked.

  From his expression, Jeremiah could tell Paul was feeling better. So much so that he was speaking in his "cop voice."

  Before starting up the fire road, the two men inspected the Jeep. "We should be able to get this righted with all of us working together. We can then get out of here," Paul said.

  I don't think so . . . Oh, we can right the Jeep all right, but it won't carry us all, will make too much noise in the night air, and don't forget those cursed headlights . . . No, we are walking out of here.

  The two men retrieved some water bottles and another flashlight from the Jeep.

  Jeremiah took about ten minutes to explain the chain of events up to but not including how close Paul came to permanent sleep. He also left out the part about the two dead men and the mother lion.

  "Unbelievable! One teenager alone doesn't act like that. Get a group of them together, like your fourteen, and they become a totally unmanageable mob. No! You must be sugarcoating," Paul said with an incredulous and unbelieving expression on his muddy face.

  Cops! Always so suspicious.

  "Rabbis don't believe in sugarcoating." Jeremiah took his handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Paul. "Here, clean your face. We are fairly close to the logging camp where you can witness my words firsthand. Oh, and be prepared to apologize. How did you come to know we needed help?"

  It was Paul's turn to explain.

  "Cindy, a roomful of bad guys, and a handful of darts. That had to be something to see."

  "She made quite an impression on them, some of them quite literally," Paul said.

  As they moved Jeremiah kept his eyes roving, searching for signs of the enemy.

  "Why aren't you two together?" Paul asked.

  "Excuse me?" Jeremiah said, stumbling over a rock in the road.

  "You like her. What's the problem?"

  Jeremiah stared hard at Paul. He had no desire to talk about anything with Paul, least of all Cindy and his problem. "Just liking someone isn't always enough," he said at last when Paul continued to stare at him.

  "Is it because she's Protestant?"

  It would be easy to lie and tell Paul that was exactly the problem. It wasn't, though. He wished they shared the same religion, but his past was the real problem. The truth was he couldn't see himself with anyone, especially anyone as curious as Cindy. He could never tell her who he really was, what he really was, but sooner or later she would start asking questions he wouldn't be able to answer.

  Out loud he said, "I'm a rabbi. It's expected that I'll marry a nice Jewish girl."

  "I think you would have already married a nice Jewish girl if that was all that was going on."

  "I'd rather not discuss my love life while we're fighting for our lives."

  "You have anything better to discuss?" Paul asked pointedly.

  "How we're all going to get out of this alive."

  He moved ahead faster, unwilling to continue the conversation.He stopped at the edge of the logging camp. Moving to his left, he came into line with the cooking shack.

  "Why did we just do that?" Paul asked.

  "Guard duty."

  "Guard what?"

  Checking the time, Jeremiah whispered, "We have been posting guards, lookouts if you prefer, each time we stop and stay in any location longer than ten minutes. Right now Sarah and Brenda have the duty. They are scheduled to wake Noah in fifteen minutes. It is arranged that I approach the camp from this direction only."

  "What happens if someone approaches from another direction? Do the guards open fire?" Paul asked sarcastically.

  Taking several deep breaths Jeremiah replied, "No! The guard will sound the alarm, a single whistle, and then everyone will freeze."

  Jeremiah was beginning to think it would have been better if Paul had stayed home. The rabbi and his castaways were doing just fine, thank you. Jeremiah issued one short whistle and started walking toward the cooking shack. Paul trailed behind, chuckling. When the men walked past the shack, Jeremiah could see Sarah crouched down behind several old tires in the front of the open structure. She was looking intently up at the ridgeline to her left.

  "Unbelievable," Paul muttered.

  Sarah waved her right hand, low to the ground. Jeremiah knew immediately that she had seen something. Turning toward Paul, Jeremiah placed a finger on his lips and pointed to the woodpile to their left. Both men moved quickly and took cover. Jeremiah, crouching low, moved to Sarah's side.

  "I heard some noise from down the hill. As I was turning to look a flash of light caught my eyes," Sarah reported.

  "Where was the flash?"

  "There, under that very tall tree on the left side of the hill we came down earlier. Brenda has seen it too," said Sarah, indicating Brenda's position.

  "Where are all the kids and Noah?" asked Jeremiah.

  "The boys' bathroom shack."

  Paul approached the two. "What is going on here?"

  "We are not alone on this mountain," Jeremiah whispered."Under that tall tree on the hill is at least one of the people tracking us."

  "Brenda, are they still there?" Jeremiah whispered, turning to the girl.

  "Yes."

  "Okay, keep your eyes on them."

  "Got it," she responded.

  Jeremiah turned his head back to Sarah and whispered, "Go get Noah, and both of you come back here."

  Sarah nodded and left. She was moving very quietly and quickly. She skirted around behind the buildings. By going that way she couldn't be seen by the men on the hill.

  "Wow! Who taught her that?" asked Paul.

  "She taught herself."

  Two minutes later, Sarah and Noah were crouched down in front of Jeremiah. Their faces indicated concern but an almost total lack of fe
ar.

  "We can't really leave this place right now. There is still too much daylight. We are just going to have to stay here under cover. As long as they think we are here, they won't come looking. They will wait for nightfall. We've got about an hour.Go back and get all the kids and bring them here. Don't use the door. It can be seen from the hill. Break out one of the rear windows and have the boys exit there."

  Noah and Sarah nodded, then left.

  "What did you do to those kids? They are not normal," said Paul.

  "Nothing. All the kids in this mob, as you called them, are great. They do as I ask immediately and without question."

  Jeremiah moved closer to Paul. "There is a two-man hunterkiller team on the ridge. They will stop at nothing to eliminate the survivors of the bombing at the summer camp. The only reason they aren't rushing us now is they saw the two of us come into the logging camp. They are now discussing how to deal with three men instead of two."

  "Three?" queried Paul.

  "Three. Noah is six foot two and 210 pounds and from three-quarters of a mile away . . . well, you understand."

  "How do you know they are killers?" Paul asked.

  Jeremiah took a deep breath. "We know this because professionals rigged the bomb on our cabin to blow us all up. We know this because professionals like these always work as a pair of two-man teams. We know this because we killed the two-man team that found us this morning. Well, technically, the mother lion killed one of them. We know this because of the clothing they wore and the equipment they carried."

  "Killed?" said Paul as he jumped to his feet. "Mother lion? What the devil is going on up here?"

  "Get down!"

  Crack!

  Thump!

  Thud!

  Paul's body hit the ground hard. Just like that, he was gone.

  19

  EVERYBODY GET DOWN AND FREEZE!" YELLED JEREMIAH.

  Who would bring a Barrett on a job like this?

  "Keep your heads down. Do not look up until I tell you to.Brenda, do you still see them?"

  "Yes. What happened?" she replied.

  With an angry edge to his voice, Jeremiah responded, "Just keep watching the hill. Do not lose sight of them for any reason.Got that?"

  "Got it," Brenda said in the tiniest voice Jeremiah had ever heard.

  "Noah?"

  "Rabbi?"

  "Go get one of the blankets and bring it to me."

  A minute later Noah approached Jeremiah at a crawl. He offered the blanket, averting his eyes from the policeman's body.

  In the hardest-sounding voice Jeremiah could manage he said, "Look at him. This is what war and killing really look like and not like that antiseptic event of this morning. Look at him. You must look. It will help you decide if the army is still what you want. Look!"

  Noah looked and then he crawled away a few feet and threw up for several minutes.

  "Where is his head? What could do something like that?" Noah groaned.

  "A Barrett," Jeremiah said. "A Barrett sniper rifle can do this. Hit a person anywhere, even the arm, with a fifty caliber bullet and they are dead. Messy dead."

  Softening his voice, Jeremiah continued, "We're dealing with a trained sniper. I'm sorry to be so hard on you."

  Noah nodded, but didn't say anything.

  Jeremiah draped the blanket over Paul's body before any of the other kids could see it.

  The skies opened up and it began to rain again. The sun was also getting lower in the sky. Jeremiah checked his watch.Forty minutes until darkness.

  "Girls, are they still there?"

  Simultaneously, the girls answered, "Yes."

  "Who has the best view of our bad guys?"

  "I think Brenda does," said Sarah.

  Moving carefully over to Brenda, Jeremiah said, "Okay, ladies, I have the duty. Relax and rest your eyes for a while."

  Jeremiah could hear the breath slowly being released from both of the very tense girls.

  Ten minutes later Jeremiah thought he heard something.What now? This sound was not the snipers moving in. Nor was it a vehicle coming up the road. What is it?

  Helicopter.

  "Everybody up. We are leaving now! Same as earlier, single file. No talking. Sarah, lead out that way. Noah, drag. Now move!"

  The castaways were completely clear of the logging camp and a quarter mile down the logging road in less than five minutes.I would take this group over most trained soldiers any day.

  Running to the front, Jeremiah whispered to Sarah, "Stop at the fallen tree."

  At the tree, Jeremiah waved the group to form around him.

  "The tree is too long for us to go around, so we will have to go over. Noah, you go first so you can help the others down on the other side. Whistle when you are ready."

  Jeremiah cupped his hands for Noah to step in, and up he went.

  Noah whistled.

  "Brenda, you're next. Put your foot here in my hands. Sarah, push her bottom if she starts to tilt in your direction."

  In less than a minute everyone was over and he was finally standing alone.

  Now it's my turn. Oh, boy, this could hurt.

  Opening the pocketknife, Jeremiah moved back from the log about fifteen feet. Ready, go. Running full tilt toward the log, Jeremiah waited to the last possible moment, then launched himself at the tree. Short! Jeremiah knew he had not jumped high enough. He hit the tree first with his chest, then his face.He tried to ignore the explosion of pain.

  Swinging his right arm downward as hard as possible, Jeremiah jammed the knife into the tree. Hold, please, oh, please hold. The knife held firm. Swinging his left hand around and over his right hand, Jeremiah pulled himself up the side of the tree. It was not easy considering how wet the log was. Once on top, he tried to free the knife. In answer to his plea, the knife did hold, but that was it. The knife was so firmly embedded that it was not coming out for many years.

  Twisting around, Jeremiah could see the kids had moved a short distance down the road, with Sarah in the lead. Brenda and Noah were still below him. Releasing his grip, Jeremiah slid offthe tree into the steadying hands of the two kids.

  Jeremiah used a simple hand signal to Sarah, and the line began moving. Five more minutes and they arrived at the overturned Jeep. Jeremiah signaled Sarah to keep going, which she did. Jeremiah stopped to search the Jeep for anything that could be of use. There was not much to be had. He found one box of granola bars, two more bottles of water, and a hunting knife. When he stood up, he was face-to-face with Brenda.

  The look of horror on her face said it all. Turning away quickly, Jeremiah pulled some rags from the back of the Jeep and pressed them onto his face, wincing against the pain.Turning back to Brenda, Jeremiah whispered, "Sorry about that."

  "It's okay. The sight of your entire face covered in blood startled me. Can I help you clean up a bit?"

  "Thank you, that would be nice." Jeremiah turned so his face could be seen in what little light was still in the sky.

  "Do you still have the first aid kit?" Brenda asked.

  Jeremiah reached over his shoulder into the backpack and handed her the kit.

  "This is gonna, like, sting," she said just before putting iodine on to his wounds.

  "Bring it on," said Jeremiah, smiling his biggest smile.

  Brenda giggled while she continued working. "Some of these cuts need stitching."

  After looking in his eyes, Brenda said, "Oh, no, you don't.I'm not sewing up anything, especially your face. I can't even get the cuts to stop bleeding."

  "That's fine. Just put some Band-Aids on the worst of them.We need to get out of here," Jeremiah said.

  They caught up to the rest in no time. It was really getting dark; five more minutes and it would be pitch black. This was going to get tricky. When Jeremiah caught up with Sarah, he indicated that she should slow the pace. Some of the younger and smaller boys were starting to have trouble keeping up.Three of them had already fallen in the ruts, holes, and muddy water on the road.
No one had complained or made any sounds, but once it was totally dark the situation would surely change.

  Jeremiah heard one of the boys toward the back of the line cry out as he fell down the hill offthe road. The boy was sliding down the muddy bank very fast. He came to a stop and Jeremiah could hear crying.

  Sarah stopped the line without being told to do so. She had everyone squat down and rest quietly. Jeremiah made it back up the line to where the boy had fallen.

  "Who is it?" he asked.

  Brenda replied, "Bobby."

  "Everyone stay where you are. Noah, with me."

  Noah and Jeremiah carefully made their way down the muddy slope. They found the crying boy about twenty feet down. His leg was badly broken.

  "Bobby?" whispered Jeremiah.

  "Yeah," came the tearful reply.

  Jeremiah indicated for Noah to move around to the boy's head. The light was completely gone from the sky. Seeing the boy's leg to determine the nature of the break was going to be difficult. Gently placing his hands on Bobby's ankle, he started sliding his hands up the boy's leg.

  "Ow! Ow! Ow!"

  "Easy, I know this hurts," whispered Jeremiah.

  Jeremiah took offthe backpack. He removed one of the flashlights. Cupping his hand over the business end of the flashlight, Jeremiah switched it on. Sliding his hand slowly to the side, Jeremiah allowed the smallest beam of light to escape his hand.

  Compound fracture. Great. Jeremiah could tell that the bone had broken skin. Using the hunting knife from the Jeep, he cut open the pant leg. Opening the first aid kit, Jeremiah removed several tongue depressors and handed them to Noah.

  "In his mouth to bite on. I have to set the leg and it will hurt," Jeremiah whispered to Noah.

  Jeremiah removed the collapsible hard plastic splints and two bandages, plus the antiseptic cream from the kit. He put a large amount of the cream on an antiseptic gauze pad. He also cut strips of the white tape.

  "Bobby?"

  "Yes."

  "Bite down on the sticks Noah will put in your mouth. I am going to set your leg and it is going to hurt. Do you understand?" Jeremiah whispered.

  "Yes."

  "Good. Now take some deep breaths and when you are ready look up at Noah and he will insert the sticks in your mouth," Jeremiah said, nodding at Noah.