Freedom Fight: Beginnings Series Book 9
Page 12
“A whole bunch.”
“Explain a lot.”
“More than we have people in Beginnings.”
“Shit.”
“It looks . . .” Ellen paused to think. “It looks like they settled here.”
Frank peered under the small crease at the bottom of the door. “I see one guard out there. Stay behind me.”
“Trust me, I have no intentions on leading the way.”
Frank stood up, looked back at Ellen and kissed her. “Ready?”
“Are you sure you’re O.K.?” Ellen’s hand reached up to his face. “Look what they did to you.”
“I will worry about me when I get us out of here. Get ready.” His large fingers gripped as tightly as he could to the side of the door where the hinges used to be. He counted to three, mouthing the numbers to Ellen, and then with a strong growl, he pulled on the door, causing a crack when it broke at the lock. Stunned, the guard spun around. Frank smiled “Hey.” Then he greeted the guard with a single punch. The guard swayed, fell to the floor, and Frank grabbed his weapon.
Checking out the hall first, Frank took Ellen’s hand and led her down the corridor.
“El, do you remember any of this?”
Ellen looked around. “Frank, I was worried about you. I didn’t think . . .”
“Shit.” Frank stopped cold, the door opened, and two guards stood there. They raised their weapons at him. Frank knew he couldn’t shoot because he would alert everyone of their escape. So doing the only thing he could, he spun the rifle, slammed the butt into the face of the one guard, sending him flying to the right. As Frank spun the rifle again, he used the force of the spin to nail the other guard to the floor.
“Frank,” Ellen said his name calmly.
Frank reached down for the soldiers’ weapons.
“Frank,” Ellen said his name again.
At first Frank wondered, why Ellen would call his name in the middle of all that was happening then he heard the click of a chamber. He turned to see a soldier smiling arrogantly at him as he held a gun directly to Ellen’s temple. Behind them were two more soldiers.
“We don’t need her. One of you will do for information.” The soldier was tall and blonde but not as tall as Frank. He wore lieutenant bars on his lapel. He pressed the gun tighter to Ellen’s forehead. “Put down the weapons or I shoot her. Your choice.”
Frank closed his eyes briefly then laid down the rifle and the two hand guns he had taken.
“Hands up,” The Lieutenant ordered.
Frank raised his hands and looked at Ellen. “I’m sorry.”
Ellen just shook her head in a ‘not your fault’ fashion.
The Lieutenant smiled. “Weakness.” He motioned his head to Ellen, “Or is she your strength, Either way , we found the way to keep you calm.” The Lieutenant’s head twitched back to the two soldiers behind him. “Take him to another room.”
The two soldiers walked in front of the Lieutenant, each of them took hold of Frank’s arms and led him calmly down the hall.
Frank showed not one bit of fear. That wouldn’t be Frank. He stood before the Lieutenant. Frank’s eyes never left his. The two soldiers stood before the door while Ellen sat in a chair.
“Sit,” the Lieutenant ordered to Frank.
Frank sniffed arrogantly and didn’t speak. He shifted his eyes once to Ellen then back to the Lieutenant.
“I said sit down.”
Frank didn’t budge not even when the Lieutenant pulled his revolver. Not once did Frank flinch.
“You seem to forget who has the upper hand here.”
Frank again shifted his eyes to Ellen.
“O.K., you want it to be this way, fine.” The Lieutenant still held his gun pointed at Frank. “We want to know about your people and their whereabouts.”
Frank couldn’t help it. He tried not to, but it slipped out. He laughed.
The Lieutenant saw red, but he didn’t see it coming. In a mistake, he revved back his gun in a striking mode. Frank snatched the revolver from his hand, smashed it into the side of his face, fired two single shots, hitting both guards, grabbed hold of Ellen, and took off from the room.
They tried the other way since their first route failed them. It led them to a door and to a set of stairs. Frank ran up, still holding Ellen’s hand. He stopped, listened, and continued on. He could hear footsteps behind them.
Frank ran up the two flights of steps, carefully opened the door at the top, saw a clear path, and pulled Ellen to continue on.
It was a bank. Dusty, dirty, the teller windows broken, papers and flyers sprawled out on the floor that flew upwards into the air as Frank and Ellen sped through the mess. Frank leaned to the glass door looking out into the street. “El, I asked if anything looked familiar. You wouldn’t remember if they brought you to a bank?”
“They brought us in the other way.” She held on tightly to his arm. “Good going down there, Frank. Predictable.”
Frank looked at her and smiled. “It’s clear. You ready to run?”
“Yep.”
Just as Frank opened the door, two shots fired out, shattering the glass on the double door. While Ellen screamed, Frank just pulled her along.
“Fuck!” Frank shouted out, looking up and down, seeing the oncoming troops moving slowly in a taunting manner. They knew Frank and Ellen were trapped. They stood center street with nowhere to go or at least that’s what he thought for a second.
The large round blackness caught Frank’s attention, and dragging Ellen to it, in a race against time. Frank knelt before the manhole cover, placed his fingers in the holes and lifted the heavy object with a painful grunt. “Go down.”
“Oh my God, I . . .”
“Now!” Frank shouted as he saw them moving faster.
Ellen climbed down the hole quickly and Frank followed.
“El, jump. Hurry.”
“Shit.” Ellen let go and landed six feet below with a splash and a scream.
Frank lowered himself with her. He didn’t care like she did about the rats. He gripped her arm and ran with the flow of the small trickle of water.
They ran for a while, their feet splashing in perfect rhythm down the dark damp tunnel. They heard echoing footsteps, but they were only their own.
Finally Ellen stopped to catch her breath.
“El, come on.” Frank halted in his run ten feet ahead of her.
“They aren’t following us.” She grabbed onto her knees.
“There has to be a reason, now let’s move. This leads out somewhere.”
“Can we just . . .” Ellen saw Frank look past her. “Frank?”
“Shit.”
“What?”
She heard a loud rush, growing louder and louder, almost thunderous. As soon as Ellen turned to see, she was blasted with the tidal wave force of the rushing water that filled the tunnel. She shrieked loudly as the water picked her up and carried her. Frank quickly grabbed hold of Ellen just as she passed him. In a current they could not battle, Frank held on to Ellen, keeping her head above the water, and they rode it out fast and furiously. Ellen’s screams entailed every single time she came up for air.
The tunnel grew lighter. Hope. An escape…The Society.
As soon as Frank and Ellen emerged from the sewer system tunnel and into the small creek that wasn’t deep enough to float them away, they were greeted by thirty soldiers, all armed, smiling and pointing their weapons at them.
“Fuck.” Holding onto Ellen, Frank stood to his feet as the water rushed by them. At that instant, as they rose, their aim moved to Ellen and so did the closeness of all thirty rifles. And for the second time only in his life, Frank raised his hands in surrender.
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Beginnings, Montana
Henry was the last to step from the helicopter, almost as if he lingered behind on purpose. He, like all the other men, held a look of disappointment and punishment, as if they were mad at themselves for having to come back empty handed. If the sun would
have only given them more time, they would have completed what they had set out to do.
Joe stood on the edge of the field, watching as one by one the teams of men, heads down, trudged by him. Robbie only looked at Joe and kept on walking. No words needed to be spoken. There was no Frank and Ellen nor was there any sign on where they had gone.
“I’m sorry, Joe.” Henry laid his hand on Joe’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry too, Henry.” Staring forward, Joe felt Henry’s hand slip from him. Joe was filled with sadness and a feeling of loss that nothing but the return of his children could change.
^^^^
Williston, North Dakota
Handcuffs secured Frank’s ankles and wrists like a hardened criminal they could not control. He sat on the floor by the bed in the small room. Ellen sat next to him. The Lieutenant, face bloody paced in front of them.
“Under orders,” he spoke coldly, “if you try to escape again, the woman will be shot immediately. No bargains. Understood?”
Frank’s jaw twitched in anger.
“I thought we’d find an agreement. Now . . .” The Lieutenant stopped walking, he hunched down fearless to Frank’s level. “There’s nothing more I would like to do than to put a gun to your head and blow your brains out. But, again under orders, you are given till sunup to save your lives. You will tell me what you know about your people’s vulnerabilities. If you don’t, you will be shot by firing squad at sunup.” The Lieutenant ignored the cold stares he got from Frank. He stood up, indicated to the guard, and the two of them left the room, leaving Frank and Ellen alone.
^^^^
Beginnings, Montana
Dean held tightly to a sleeping Alexandra. She cuddled on his lap as he lay on the couch, her little head pressed tightly to his chest. His lips grazed through her hair over and over, taking in the softness. So many times while holding her, his hand would run over her fragile face. He touched her nose, making it crinkle while she slept, which brought forth the only smile that could come to Dean.
His heart ached. His stomach ached. Emptiness filled him and he tried to hide it away within the arms of his daughter but it didn’t help. Dean didn’t really think it would. How could it? From Alexandra’s small features, her sleeping expression, all the way to the texture of her hair, every bit of Alexandra reminded Dean of Ellen. Perhaps that was why he held his daughter so long and so tightly. Even if it was just in Dean’s heart and in his mind, a little part of him was holding on to Ellen.
^^^^
Williston, North Dakota
“El know how sorry I am that this is happening,” Frank spoke near whisper that evening.
“Don’t be,” Ellen told him as she sat next to him, leaning on his arm.
“I failed somewhere. All I’ve ever done is try to protect you and I failed. Look at us.”
“Yeah,” Ellen said with a shiver, “look at us.”
“I’m sorry.” Frank looked at her so sadly. “I don’t know what to do. If I try to get us away again, they’ll shoot you. If I don’t, they shoot me then what happens to you.”
“I don’t know.” Ellen shook her head. “What do you think? Are we pretty much screwed? Be honest, Frank.”
“O.K., well . . .” Frank huffed. “Things are tight right now. They aren’t looking as prosperous as I’d like them to be.”
“So we’re never getting out of this?”
“Never say never, who knows, but just remember I’m sorry it got to this point.”
“Will you please quit apologizing. You did all you could do and more. I know that and I want you to know something else. I’m not afraid. Of course . . .” She smiled a little at him. “I’m not the one who’s facing the firing squad tomorrow. Am I?”
“Thanks.” Frank shook his head. “This is supposed to be a solemn moment here. This could end up being our last night on this earth.”
“Yeah, and if it is, why would you and I spend it being mushy?”
“How else are we supposed to spend it?”
“Like Frank and Ellen.” Ellen lifted herself, pushed down Frank’s bent knees, and straddled over his lap. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.
“You mean go out with a bang?”
“Yeah.” Ellen nodded, slowly bringing her lips to Frank’s. He smiled after the short kiss. “Let’s go out with a bang.”
The chuckle that came from Frank was so soft when Ellen’s lips slid down his neck, How badly he wanted to hold her but was unable to with his hands behind his back. “El.” His voice cracked some as he called her name.
“Yes.” Ellen lifted her head, holding her face close to him.
“I have to tell you something.”
“What’s that?” Ellen spoke with seduction and warmth brushing her lips over his.
“If we, um, make it out of this situation, this uh . . . handcuffing could be a really cool new thing for us.”
Ellen’s lips stopped moving over him. She looked seriously at him and silently Ellen laughed.
^^^^
Bowman, North Dakota
Sweaty, dirty and exhausted, The Captain returned to his home a small apartment that sat above a former drug store. The windows weren’t as open as he wanted them to be, but the rain that had scattered about every once in a while made the Captain close them. The night was hot and he walked slowly to his front window, opening it up, and letting the cool--after rain--breeze hit against his body.
He could see the people walking slowly down the street. He knew where they were headed. A special prayer service would entail on this evening, a service for the men about to embark on another freedom fight. But this one was different as it involved many of his men, more than the Captain had ever sent out. The Captain wanted to be a part of the service and he knew he would be. He’d forego his tired body from maneuvers, he’d get cleaned up, and he’d join the community he ran.
Afterward, though his mind was full, he would try to rest. He needed to be strong and at his best if he was going to lead his men into battle and fight alongside of them. They would do exactly what he himself had trained them to do. There was a drive in the Captain, strong and vibrant. A rush of need and urgency filled him. Was it the pull to eliminate the close Society camps? Or was it the desire to try to help Beginnings, knowing, even without certainty, that somewhere within the two new Society camps were the two people that Beginnings now searched for so diligently. Something inside of the Captain told him this fight was different. This fight held more importance than any he had been on before. Why exactly that was, Captain Hal Slagel just didn’t know.
CHAPTER NINE
August 31
Bowman, North Dakota
A quarter of a mile outside the town of Bowman, on the overgrown highway, they spread to the fields, an army of two hundred and forty strong. On horseback they manned together like a carpet of hope that spread out. They waited in silence and in uniform. The soldiers from corporals down wore the color navy blue, UWA sewn onto their sleeves. Their hands wore homemade gloves, gold in color, the fingers exposed. That gold color was the same color that they wore on their heads, no hats, caps, or covers. A golden bandana, like the sun, covered their head and came down to just above the eyebrows and tied in the back. Their rifles were strapped to their backs, and at their waists, swords so polished they reflected the moon’s light.
The horse’s gallop drew closer to them, steady and not too fast. It made some of the UWA soldier’s hearts beat faster. Captain Hal Slagel rode to them, so strong on horseback, sitting so straight. He slowed down, accepted a salute from Sgt. Ryder, and then rode around the gathered men to where he could be seen.
Wearing a gray uniform with a red bandana and gloves, Hal pulled on the reigns of the horse to stop him. The horse danced a little before settling down.
Hal waited for the faces to be on him; the silence was his signal. He spoke to them strongly, seriousness on his face. “In Corinthians, Paul tells us, I plead with you . . . to be of one mind, united, in thought and in purp
ose. Like Paul, I plead the same to you. Together we have seen many tragedies, but none as tragic as the oppression this great land of ours now faces. We are not in the thick of it, but only the beginning. A long hard war lies ahead of us, and if we fight hard now, we will only grow stronger. Though our camp divides in separate ways, in a few short hours we will synchronize in yet another battle for freedom. We will bring our mighty sword to those who try to change what this country was founded on. We ride together not only in unity, but in spirit and heart. We ride tall, holding our heads high. Let our voice carry out, loud and strong. Today is our call, our warning, let it be heard. We will not fall so easily to their tyranny. We will not diminish without a battle. This is the fight of our forefathers and now our fight. This is our land, our home, our freedom. We will not stop and will emerge victorious. We will . . . take it back!” With a swift motion, Hal pulled out his sword, raising it high.
There was a synchronization of metal sounds as all the men pulled forth their swords, raised them high, and with pride joined their leader in his signification motion.
Hal, his sword still held high above his head, saluted Sgt. Ryder and nodded to the soldier beside him. The soldier lifted his bugle, gave a simple blow, the men cheered, and the horses divided up. Together, yet in two separate ways, they rode off and onto their freedom fight.
^^^^
Beginnings, Montana
Dean’s head swayed slowly back and forth as he sat on his front porch. The steam from his coffee hit against his nose. He hadn’t slept all night. He brought his lips to his mug, and as he did he heard his screen door open and close.
The large brown hiking boots were the vision Dean saw first, followed by the khaki pants. He turned his head to see Henry had joined him on his seat on the step.
Henry hesitated before saying anything. He looked out into the quiet predawn streets of Beginnings. “I heard you pacing last night, Dean. You should have come down to talk if you couldn’t sleep.”