Fire From The Sky | Book 9 | Brimstone

by Reed, N. C.

  “What is it now?” Kurtis asked softly, moving past Tandi to take a position at his far side.

  “He's doing his best to draw them in,” Tandi shook his head. “This has already gone too far. If they don't start walking in the next little bit, he's probably gonna start shooting.”

  “Why is he so up in arms about this?” Gordy asked.

  “Hates a thief,” Tandi shrugged. “Hates bullies. Hates them. You see so much of that shit that it finally just. . .breaks you a bit. You get so tired of it that you decide there just has to be something you can do about it. In this case, shoot them.”

  “Can't you stop him?” Gordy almost whispered.

  “If I had caught it in time, maybe,” Tandi shrugged. “Not now. This bunch had pretty much terrorized Miss Lacey and shot her dog, too. He's mad about that, and he's probably going to take it out on-,”

  The sound of ripping canvas cut Tandi's explanation short as Kevin Bodee walked a burst of gunfire across the front of the line of thieves.

  Once more the somewhat dimwitted neighbors seem to realize how ridiculously outgunned they were and took off running for home. Kevin Bodee watched them run, laughing as he sent another burst of gunfire after them, once more chewing up pavement as the rounds impacted almost beneath the retreating toughs.

  “Kev, that's enough!” Tandi called over the radio. “Let it go!”

  “Yeah, yeah,” the other man's voice betrayed his disappointment. “I didn't shoot nobody. Just havin' a little fun.”

  “Get the rest of these panels loaded,” Tandi ordered. “Now. We need to get moving before he decides we ought to-,”

  “We should follow these bastards home and burn them out!” Kevin called, cutting Tandi off once more.

  “- do something like that,” Tandi finished. “Hurry,” he urged as he moved toward the Cougar, trying to calm his friend's anger down.

  “You heard the man,” Gordy said. “Nine more panels and we're finished. Let’s get 'em and get gone before we end up in a war with the cast of Deliverance.”

  “Who are those jackasses, anyway?” Titus demanded. “I never seen any of 'em before. And I think I'd remember them.”

  “I never seen them before, either,” Gordy was shaking his head. “I didn't get their names from Miss Lacey. She never called them anything except 'those bastards' when we were here before, did she?”

  “You know, now that you mention it, I think that was her go to phrase,” Titus agreed.

  “Should have shot 'em all last time,” Zach grumbled. “I mean, what the hell, man? That was a solid little house. Would have been good shelter for someone.”

  “Forget it, man,” Gordy told his friend. “It's already done, and we can't get bogged down in that crap. Let 'em be. We won't see them again after today, anyway.”

  “You realize you just ensured we'll see them again, right?” Kurtis asked him, grunting as he and Zach muscled another panel up on to the trailer.

  “He's right, man,” Titus was nodding as he helped Gordy with the next panel. “Jinxed us for sure.”

  “Stop believing in wives' tales,” Gordy scoffed. “Besides, if we do see them again, I'd imagine that Kevin's gonna shoot them as soon as he sees them. So, either way, I'd say we're probably done with them.”

  “You happy, now?” Tandi was asking Kevin as the boys continued to load fencing.

  “Not really,” Kevin was unrepentant. “Maybe they'll come back.”

  “We really didn't need the sound of a machine gun tearing up the countryside, man,” Tandi told his friend.

  “Ain't nobody around to hear it,” Kevin made a pushing motion with his hand as he replied, as if pushing the comment aside.

  “They were around,” Tandi pointed out.

  “Besides them,” Kevin ignored the irrelevancy. “They had it coming.”

  “I don't disagree, but we were trying to avoid that kind of thing,” Tandi reminded him.

  “Oops,” Kevin held his hands up in a gesture of helplessness. “My bad.”

  “Just keep a watch in case they come back,” Tandi gave up. “And I'd appreciate it if you remembered that Ellen is in that truck back there, man.”

  The look on Kevin Bodee's face was instantly contrite as Tandi's words hit him.

  “Shit, Doc,” he all but whispered, chagrined. “I'm sorry, man. I didn't, I mean I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry.”

  “Just keep watch,” Tandi sighed, turning back to the rig. “We're almost done.”

  “Alright.”

  Fifteen minutes later, panels loaded and tied down, they were on their way home. Zach looked at the small house as they pulled out of the yard, shaking his head sadly.

  “What a waste, man.”

  -

  Zach had helped to unload the fencing panels from the trailer before going to clean up. He was on the schedule for ground watch in an hour and didn't want to start out covered in sweat, dirt and grease. The cold water in the dorm shower jolted the fatigue out of him as he scrubbed himself clean. Towel wrapped around his waist, he made his way toward his room, having neglected to bring his fresh uniform with him.

  He dressed quickly, donning his equipment even as he headed downstairs. There were roast beef sandwiches waiting on the lunch table, and he grabbed two of them along with a glass of water. Taking a chair that was out of the way of others, he ate his lunch in silence, watching the coming and going around him. He was about half finished with the second when he heard Vicki Tully's voice.

  “Zach?”

  He turned to see Tully standing nearby, also dressed for duty.

  “Vic,” he nodded, waving negligently with his water glass.

  “You're working the watch this afternoon?” she asked him.

  “I am,” he replied around a mouthful of roast beef. “Just got back from getting those fencing panels, so I'm a little behind on time. I got the ground watch until six.”

  “I'm down here working response this afternoon,” she informed him, clarifying that she was not rushing him to finish. “I think things are probably covered enough that you can finish eating.”

  “I hope so, cause I'm hungry,” he laughed slightly. “You still helping train the others? The new girls?”

  “When I'm needed,” she nodded. “Maybe three times a week or so. They're trained already, but they're working now on tactics and formations and things like that. All of them are doing pretty well.”

  “Good to hear,” he said, meaning it. “More hands is always good.”

  “True,” she agreed. “Well, I need to check in. I'll probably see you later,” she smiled over her shoulder as she moved away.

  “See ya,” he raised his glass in a wave before taking another drink. He frowned slightly as she moved on. He had reached a point now where every time she spoke to him, he suspected there was an ulterior motive behind it. Had her continual poking at him when they were together affected him that much? He didn't know the answer, or how to get it. He'd have to work on that, he decided. It was too much like a weakness.

  Finished with his meal, he got to his feet and checked his gear, adjusting his rifle as he made his way toward Operations. He had to check in as well.

  -

  “Still glad you went through all that?” Gordy asked as he and Sam enjoyed a rare moment of peace and quiet. They were riding the pastures, having actually had lunch together when Gordy returned.

  “Mostly,” Sam nodded. “It was a lot of work, but it wasn't as if I had anything else to do,” she shrugged. “And I can honestly say I feel stronger and more confident, now, than I did before.”

  “Good,” Gordy replied. “I'm happy to hear it.”

  “You didn't want me to do it, did you,” she said, rather than asked.

  “I don't want you to get hurt,” Gordy corrected. “Being well trained is a good way to avoid getting hurt. If you're asking me do I want to see you out here, in combat? Of course not. I don't want to see any of us having to fight. I likely won't get that wish, but that's life in the
new world,” he shrugged.

  “What was it like in Lewiston?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “Hostile, for the most part,” he replied honestly. “I don't know if that was because of the soldiers, or maybe us, or if that's just them in general, nowadays. Either of the three is a valid response. The town itself was still in good shape. What we saw of it anyway.”

  “It didn't make you mad, being treated that way?” she wanted to know.

  “No,” he answered truthfully. “It's their home. They have the right to be prepared, and to not like having visitors. We usually do the same thing, just not out in the open. When someone pulls up here, there's usually a dozen or more guns on them, mostly hidden from view. It's no different.”

  “I hadn't considered it like that,” she admitted. “This is home, so it seemed more appropriate for here.”

  “Like I said, that town is their home,” he reminded her. “It's just like what we do here, on a larger scale.”

  “Are they doing anything? Like, any kind of manufacturing, or any kind of business at all?” she asked.

  “I honestly can't say,” he replied. “We didn't see anything like that, but then we weren't really allowed to look around, either. Well, other than going to look for the guy spreading all that worthy crap like from the radio.”

  “I take it you didn't find him.”

  “No. Bronson did say he'd taken a pretty good beating, though. He expects him to turn up sooner or later.”

  -

  “How can you possibly do that?” Leanne demanded, watching Xavier Adair.

  “I've been working at this for many years, little one,” Xavier replied. He was currently doing the splits atop two barrels that were laying on their sides. Just looking at him made Leanne's legs hurt.

  “I always thought that was just something for television,” she muttered, returning to her own stretching. Their class would start in ten minutes or so, and she wanted to be ahead of the others.

  “This particular technique is of limited value,” Xavier admitted. As he spoke, he slowly brought his legs together, rolling the barrels toward each other as he did so. Before Leanne could comment, Xavier was standing, one foot on each barrel, balancing as they tried to roll from beneath him.

  “That is just. . .incredible,” she shook her head. “I'll never be able to do that.”

  “If you work at it, you will,” Xavier promised, jumping down to the ground. “As I was saying, that technique is of limited value other than as a stretching exercise. I have seen stuntmen execute the maneuver between two moving vehicles, but I cannot imagine a reason to do so outside the entertainment industry.”

  “I can't imagine being able to do it at all,” Leanne continued to mumble. Xavier laughed lightly at her consternation.

  “My little honey badger,” he gently rubbed the top of her head. “At the rate you apply yourself, you will soon be able to do anything you desire. None of the others work even half as hard as you do.”

  “I want to survive,” Leanne told him. “To do that, I have to be able to defend myself.”

  “That you do,” Xavier agreed. “And you will be. I promise you.”

  -

  “C'mon, kid,” Jake urged. “Exhale and push. You can do it.”

  Below him, prone on a weight bench, Gordy Sanders struggled to press a bar that was already bending beneath the weight it held. Jake was ready to grab it if Gordy slipped.

  Slowly, so very slowly, the bar began to rise. The right side was lower than the left as Gordy's recently wounded shoulder complained.

  “I can't, Jake,” Gordy gasped. “My shoulder won't do it.”

  Jake immediately grabbed the bar, taking the weight from Gordy easily. With little sign of strain, Jake set the three hundred pounds back onto the rack as Gordy lay still other than to rub his shoulder.

  “Too much, too soon, kiddo,” Jake told him. “I should have stopped you.”

  “I had to try it,” Gordy shook his head. “It shows how bad out of shape I got while I was recovering. I may have my cardio back, but my muscles are weak as water.”

  “Kid, failing to get three hundred pounds into the air ain't weak,” Jake told him flatly. “You should be working with about half that, and pouring on the reps. That's how you rebuild muscle mass that you've lost. I want you to concentrate on that for the next thirty days, okay? One-fifty, every other day, working toward a minimum if three sets of ten. After that we'll start adding twenty pounds every twenty days, which is ten workouts, and go from there. You'll get there. You just have to be patient and put the work in.”

  “Yeah,” Gordy rose from the bench, still rubbing his shoulder. “Dammit. I thought I was healed.”

  “Healed ain't the same as back to battery, kid,” Jake informed him. “You need to go and let Jaylyn check you, just in case,” he added as he unloaded the weight from the bar. “Don't take any chances.”

  “Yeah,” Gordy got to his feet and grabbed his shirt and a towel. “Yeah, you're right.”

  “Course I am, kid,” Jake laughed. “Jake is always right.”

  -

  Shane Golden was waiting as Kandi Ledford exited Building One, her work there complete. She smiled when she saw him, warming him as easily as the sun might.

  “Hi, solider boy,” Kandi said as she kissed him lightly. “Come around here often,” she batted her eyes playfully.

  “Every chance I get,” Shane smiled back. “You finished for the day?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am,” she nodded. “Why?”

  “Well, I have a delicious dinner here,” he pointed to a basket behind him, along with an insulated water jug. “I thought we could watch the sun set somewhere while we ate.”

  “That sounds like a great idea, Mister Golden,” Kandi hugged his arm. “Where did you have in mind?”

  “You ever been in a hay loft?” Shane grinned.

  -

  Patricia Sanders frowned as she heard someone knocking at the front door. These days there wasn't much knocking at her house. With five adults living there, the door was usually swinging both ways most of the time.

  Wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, she turned the heat down beneath the skillet on the stove and went to see who it was. She opened the door to find Jody Thompson standing there, straight as an arrow.

  “Jody?” Patricia was a little surprised. Normally she didn't see Jody here without Abby.

  “Mrs. Sanders, is your husband at home?” Jody asked, very politely. Almost formally, she noted.

  “Somewhere,” she admitted. “Come on in and I'll find him.”

  “I would prefer to wait here, if that is acceptable to you,” Jody surprised her again. “I need to speak with Mr. Sanders, and would prefer to do so in private, if he would be so good as to join me outside.”

  “I, see,” Patricia said slowly, though she did not, in fact. “Let me get him.” She left Jody at the door and walked to the small room that Robert called his office or his laboratory, depending on what he was doing there.

  “Robert?”

  “What?!” he jumped in his chair as she startled him. “Sorry,” he apologized. “You scared the devil clear out of me,” he laughed. “What do you need, dear?”

  “Jody is here,” Patricia told him. “He wants to talk to you.”

  “Okay,” Robert nodded. “Send him on back.”

  “He wants you to come outside,” Patrica shook her head. “He wants to speak to you in private, he says, and would prefer to do so outdoors.” Her tone indicated that she had no idea why Jody had made such a request.

  “I see,” Robert's tone changed. Getting to his feet, he made sure that everything he had been working with was turned off. He had a sneaking suspicion about what Jody wanted.

  “What is this all about?” Patricia asked him.

  “Well,” Robert said slowly. “If I've got this figured right...”

  -

  “So, Jody is over at your brother's place,” Tandi mentioned casually as he sa
t with Clay at the small table outside Building Two.

  “Yeah?” Clay leaned back, closing his eyes for a minute. “Having dinner with Abby and her folks?”

  “Not quite.” The slightly mischievous tone to Tandi's voice had Clay's eyes snapping back open. He raised his head and looked at the medic.

  “Not quite?” he repeated slowly. “What does that mean?”

  “He went to talk to your brother,” Tandi fought not to smirk.

  “So?” Clay knew there was something here he should see, but he couldn't figure it out.

  “He's talking to Abby's father,” Tandi was now fighting not to roll his eyes. “You can't be this slow, man,” he added sadly when there was still no sign of recognition in Clay's eyes.

  “I'm an officer, remember?” Clay snorted.

  “True,” Tandi gave up. “Jody is talking to your brother. About his daughter. Your niece.”

  “I know who she is,” Clay scoffed. “What the hell are you-,” He broke off suddenly as Tandi's words came home to him at last.

  “No, man,” he was immediately shaking his head. “No way.”

  “Yes way, dude,” Tandi was openly smirking now. He stood and placed a comforting, sympathetic hand on Clay's shoulder.

  “I'm pretty sure you and Jody are gonna be related soon,” he laughed right in Clay's face.

  -

  “Jody, I appreciate you coming to see me,” Robert told the younger man. “But let’s be honest, here. Abigail is going to have a complete, conniption, meltdown fit at the idea of you, a man, coming to me, another man, to talk about her future without her involved. You're treading on very thin ice here, son.”

  “I'm aware of her temperament,” Jody nodded. “But my people have their own ways, and they must be observed, at least as closely as I can. One of those ways is an announcement that the daughter is available for marriage. I cannot ask that she obey the customs of my people, nor that you would. As a result, I come to you, her father and the head of her house, and ask you now, formally, is Abigail of proper age that she can be wed?”

  “Yes, she is,” Robert replied.

  “Is she properly free of any other marriage, or any obligation that would prevent someone from asking for her hand?” Jody continued.