Harish looked despairingly at Ahmed in a crumpled heap in the hay. His body was contorted, one arm twisted behind him and his legs bent back on themselves; unmoved from where Dawson had thrown him. It looked painful. The limbs twitched in random spasms. Harish whispered, shaking his head, “No, no, no.” Over and over he said it, like a prayer, hoping it would come true. He stepped to the edge of a puddle and felt a tingle in his toes. Backing away, he looked down at the water like a man staring over the edge of a cliff.
Dawson heard a groggy moan, then the sound of Chase’s voice coming from a stable. “Dad, Dad. Where are you?” Dawson turned from Harish and made his way to chase. He was trying to stand up using the wall for support, but his legs were wobbly and gave way. He slumped back onto the stable floor. Dawson knelt next to him. The goose-egg-sized bump on Chase’s forehead had started to turn a dark shade of blue. Dawson reached out to lightly touch the bump, but Chase stayed his hand. “It really hurts, don’t touch it.” Dawson rested his hands on Chase’s shoulders.
“Does anything else hurt? Can you move your arms … your legs?”
“Yeah, I think so. I’m not sure. All I can feel right now is this massive headache. The last thing I remember was some horse charging by.” He put his hand on the side of his temple. “It feels like I was kicked in the head.”
“You probably bumped it into the wall. You were standing when the horse ran by; I don’t think it actually kicked you.”
Veronica came into the stable. “Chase,” she said. “What happened to your head?” She reached out to touch his forehead, but Chase brushed her hand aside.
“Where were you in the tunnels?” Chase asked, looking at Dawson. “Why didn’t you come looking for me?”
“I had Veronica with me. We got lost for a while. We eventually figured out a pattern and tried coming back for you in the circle room, but you were gone.”
“Dad got into a fight,” Veronica added. They both looked at her. “I couldn’t see, but I could hear. He was fighting with some man.”
“But you got out and you came here,” Chase said. “How did you know I was already here?”
Dawson paused briefly. “I was just trying to get your sister to a safe place. I was going back for you. Honestly. I was going to get supplies and some help, then come right back.”
“Oh,” Chase said. “That could have taken a while.”
“No, no it wouldn’t have taken that long. I would have made sure of that.”
Suddenly remembering how he got to the barn, Chase’s eyes opened wide. “Where are they now? Those two that took me here. Are they —?”
“Dad got into another fight,” Veronica said. “I could see this one. He had to fight both of them at the same time.” She spoke matter-of-factly, like it was something she’d just watched on the TV. After she said it though, she wrapped both her arms around Dawson and buried her head in his chest. Dawson held her.
“They won’t be bothering us, or anyone, again.” Dawson looked back over his shoulder. He could smell Ahmed frying, and hear the flicker of the shorted-out lights. “One is dead, and the other one is in shock. He’s in no condition to be bothering anyone, but we should make sure he gets locked up. Can you get up?”
Chase tried, but his legs gave way.
“You just stay here. Let me check on the other one.” Dawson put a hand on Chase’s shoulder.
“No, you’re not leaving me again today.” Chase doubled his effort to stand up, with no success.
“I’m not leaving the barn,” Dawson reassured him. “I’ll be just outside the stable. It’s OK.” Dawson looked at Veronica. “Stay with your brother, and don’t let him get up. If he tries, you can sit on him.” Veronica didn’t wait, as she plunked herself down in Chase’s lap and leaned her head against him.
“What?” she said, looking back at Dawson like she’d done something wrong. “You know he’s going to try and get up the second you leave. Now he doesn’t have to worry about being alone.” She smiled up at her big brother.
“Good plan, kiddo.” Dawson pointed at Chase as he walked away. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”
Dawson walked back into the barn and saw Ahmed still cooking in the hay. The smell was getting even stronger. Harish was nowhere in sight. Dawson scanned the area for their pistols, but couldn’t find them. “Damn it!” He couldn’t have gone far. He looked around for some sort of weapon, but only found a broom handle and a short pitchfork. He took the pitchfork. Just then, the sound of the gas generators stopped, and the remaining lights went out. It was dark again. Not as dark as the tunnels, his eyes would adjust eventually, but in the moment it felt like the tunnels all over again. Shit, Dawson thought. More time fumbling around in the dark.
Just then, Dawson heard voices outside. He gripped the pitchfork with both hands. Maggie, Jake, and Bert came in through the barn door. Jake brandished a rifle, while Maggie and Bert each had pistols at the ready. The moonlight shone through the open barn door.
“What the hell is that smell?” Bert said.
“That would be the electrified bad guy,” Dawson answered as Maggie embraced him. Dawson motioned in the direction of Ahmed’s body, which had stopped twitching.
“What happened to my lights?” Bert asked, indicating the shorted-out light fixture. “I just had those installed.”
“They sort of got shorted out, but in a good way. Don’t worry, Bert, I can fix the lights. The main question right now is where the hell is the other one?” Dawson started checking all the empty stables. “Did any of you see the other one?”
“We didn’t see anyone on the way in here,” Jake said. “Although from the looks of the scuffle you guys had, he’s probably halfway across the ocean by now. It’s a wonder you didn’t burn the entire place down.”
“Are the kids with you?” Maggie asked abruptly. “Tell me they’re not still in the tunnels.”
“They’re fine,” Dawson answered. “Veronica was with me the entire time. Chase had the roughest ride here. He’s a bit banged up at the moment, but he’s a tough kid. They’re in the stable.” Dawson pointed with his thumb behind him. “Mentally, though, Chase is gonna take some time to get over this. He thinks I deserted him in the tunnels. Not the first time he’s thought that, I suppose.” Maggie gave him a sympathetic look, then went to check on the kids. “I should have tied the other one up when I had the chance. Now he’s on the loose and up to God knows what.”
“You just let him go?” Bert asked.
“I got distracted with the kids. The other guy seemed shut down, just staring at the corpse. They must have been really close. I didn’t think he was a flight risk.” They both turned to look at Ahmed. “Where did you guys get all the weapons?”
“You’re not the only one good in a scuffle,” Jake answered. “Shortly after everyone made a break for it in the dark, we ran into a few of the others. Just one guy at first, but between the three of us we overpowered him pretty easily and took his rifle. After that we just tracked them down a few at a time. They didn’t know enough to keep quiet in the dark. I guess they figured they had the upper hand, and had nothing to worry about. Turns out they did.”
“Veronica and I heard gunfire at one point.”
“That was all us. They never got a shot off. Figured it was going to be either us or them. We shot first and asked questions later. Turns out that Bert’s a pretty good shot in the dark.”
“When you get to my age, just about everything you do is a shot in the dark,” Bert quipped. “Can’t remember the last time I shot a deer that wasn’t blurry as hell in my sights.”
Maggie stepped out with the kids. Chase was walking with Maggie’s help, but still shaky. “This is no place for kids; I’m taking them back to the house.”
“We should stick together,” Jake said. “Let’s all get back to the house. We can deal with the body later.”
“I think I know where that other terrorist fella got off to. I seem to be missing a horse,” Bert said, standing in Hero
’s stall. “Looks like he was a horse thief as well as a terrorist.”
“That’s not quite what happened,” Dawson said. “Hero saved all of us. He got out of his stall somehow, and bolted, knocked both terrorists flying, and gave me a chance to gain the upper hand. He saved all of us. I always liked that horse.”
“Yep. That horse was always too smart for his own good. Always stealing my apples. I used to think it was you,” Bert said, looking at Dawson. “Sorry ’bout that.”
“No worries.” Dawson smiled. “I may have taken a few.”
“Hmm.” Bert nodded. “Either way, you still owe me a horse. A good one, I might add.”
The group of them headed back to the house in the moonlight, as they all kept one eye trained on the shadows.
Chapter 47 ~ Priorities
Once inside the house, everyone had a seat around the big kitchen table. Even though Bert had been running the farm on his own and with hired help over the years, he’d never had the heart to get rid of the old family table. The first few times Bert ate alone at the table he felt lonely, but as the years went on, sitting there brought back memories of all the good times.
The look of exhaustion on everyone’s face was apparent. No one wanted to move. Not just from the fatigue of the day’s stress, but from the security of the group. None of them wanted to be alone. They’d all just survived an ordeal together, and a sense of camaraderie bound them.
Bert started rummaging through cupboards. It was a big old farm kitchen and there were a lot of cupboards to look through. Whatever he was looking for, he couldn’t seem to find. Everyone watched him as he was the only one moving. He was determined to find whatever it was that he was looking for. Maggie started to get up. “Is there anything that I can help you —?”
Dawson put a hand on her arm and motioned for her to sit back down. He mouthed the words just leave him. Acknowledging that Dawson knew Bert better than any of them, she happily eased herself back into her seat. The pantry had big double doors with lots of shelves, and Bert was emptying them out onto the counter, the table, and the floor in search of his grail. For a guy that lived on his own, he had an incredible amount of food in the pantry. Some of the cans and jars looked like they’d been there for a while based on the condition of the labels.
Maggie spoke up. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I feel like I’m going to fall asleep right here at the table. I think I’m going to turn in for the night and dream of a better tomorrow.”
“There you are, you little beggar!” Bert exclaimed. He pulled his arm from the very back of the deepest cupboard with a grin, nearly tripping overcans of corn and beans rolling across the floor. He dusted off a bottle of Balcones Single Malt Whiskey and plunked it down in the center of the table. Everyone cracked a grin with the exception of Veronica, whose head rested on her arms on the table … sound asleep. Even the loud clunk of the bottle on the table didn’t wake her. Unlike the search for the bottle, it took no time for Bert to find enough whiskey glasses for everyone. One looked quite clean, while the others showed Bert’s fingerprints in the dust on the edge of the glasses. No one complained. “This bottle has been around for a long time. The missus got it for me years ago on one of those big anniversaries of ours. It’s been so long, I can’t even remember which one.” He smiled. “I always swore I’d drink it some special day before I died.” He paused for a moment. “At one point today, I wondered if I’d ever keep that vow. Funny the things that cross your mind when you’re staring down the muzzle of someone else’s gun. The thought of some other so-and-so enjoying this bottle was really pissing me off down in those tunnels.” The corked top offered little resistance to Bert’s determination. He poured himself a drink in one of the dusty glasses and sat down at the table. Lifting his eyes upward, he said, “Here’s to you, Irma. Thanks for getting me here.” He emptied the glass, then poured himself another and looked around the table. “Help yourselves, folks. I may be your host, but I ain’t your bartender.”
The bottle made its rounds till it got to Dawson. Veronica still slept, but everyone else had poured themselves a drink, even Chase. Dawson picked up the bottle, reading the label front and back as if reading a book. He cleaned the last dirty glass on his shirt, then poured himself a healthy shot. He raised the glass, looking around the table. “Here’s to dead terrorists and second chances.” He stared at the glass like he’d never seen a shot of whiskey before. “It’s better than the stuff I normally buy, but maybe that’s not the point.” He set the glass on the table, then, leaning forward, he slid the glass as far from him as he could.
Resting back in his chair, Dawson looked around the table, making eye contact with everyone, then briefly stared at his glass. “Have you ever wished you could just wipe the slate clean? Undo all your mistakes and take back all those things you said? I haven’t been proud of my actions for a long time. What happened today made me think. Maybe I wasn’t meant to be here in this place, at this time with you people.” He looked down at Veronica asleep next to Chase, then into Chase’s eyes. “I know I’ve let you down in the past, Chase. Decisions I’ve made haven’t always been what’s best for me or my family. The guilt I felt at the time wasn’t enough to stop me though. I didn’t have the inner strength to fight the temptation of the booze, or anything else. I used your mother leaving as an excuse to leave everyone else. The army was just another place for me to hide from people that reminded me of things that had gone wrong. I put that all on you and your sister, and that wasn’t fair. To you or her.” Dawson wiped his eyes. “Today, I still wasn’t there for you, and I almost lost you forever. I ran around confused in those tunnels like I’ve been doing for years. No idea where you were, and no idea where I was. I barely hung onto your sister. I can’t let that happen again. I won’t. Never again. From here on out, things are going to be different.” Dawson got up and walked over to Chase. He hugged Chase, then kissed him on the head. “The world may be going to hell, and enemies from within and without may try to tear us apart, but I promise you, Chase, I will do everything in my power to prevent that from happening.” Dawson picked up Veronica. She woke enough to wrap her arms around his neck and bury her head in his shoulder. “You and your sister are my number one priority from here on out. That I promise you.” Dawson headed out of the kitchen towards the bedrooms.
“OK,” was all Chase could manage to say.
* * *
Harish walked through the main street, feeling numb. Looting had picked up since the last time he’d been here. There were plenty of smashed windows and empty store shelves. People passed each other on the street with looks of suspicion and desperation. A few stared hard at Harish, but none stopped him or attempted to talk with him. Harish didn’t know how he was supposed to feel. Sure, he had just lost a brother, but it wasn’t like he’d known him all that long. He’d been absent from most of his life, and now he was gone again. When you don’t know what you’re missing, it couldn’t hurt you, he figured. He’d fallen into a comfortable life in Houston after surviving the foster homes of his youth. He barely remembered most of them now. Feeling numb wasn’t something new to Harish. Subconsciously, it was his body’s way of dealing with trauma. There’d been a lot of repressed trauma in Harish’s life.
Ahmed had brought a sense of purpose to his life … even if it was only for a short time. He’d filled in the blank moments in his memories. Maybe, Harish thought, given time, they could have grown closer. Doubtful though. Ahmed was never looking to live well into his senior years, and had plans for Harish to follow him. That would have been a difficult path to follow for Harish.
An old pickup truck drove slowly down the street. As it passed Harish, the passenger threw a bottle that just missed Harish and some obscenities that didn’t. Harish paid little heed. The driver slammed the brakes hard, rocking the truck to a halt. Harish could see the driver and passenger say something. The reverse lights came on in the pickup as the driver looked through the cab’s rear-view window, making eye contact
with Harish. Before the truck could start back up, a beat up old Cadillac with tinted windows pulled up next to Harish. A big man with brown skin got out of the back, grabbed Harish and pushed him into the rear of the vehicle.
Harish found himself sitting between an even bigger man and the one who had grabbed him off the street. The Cadillac accelerated quickly past the stopped pickup then took a hard left. The man in the front passenger seat turned to look at Harish. He wore round spectacles with wire frames. He was small and thin compared to the men in the back of the car.
“Hello, Harish,” he said. “It’s good to see you after all these years.” Harish stared at the man, trying to place him. “I bring word from our Imam. He’s not happy with how your mission turned out. He’s a compassionate man though, and is willing to give you a second chance. Congratulations.” He handed Harish a thick brown envelope. “This should have everything you need to complete what your brother started.”
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