Fault Line In The Sand

by Linda Mackay

“Clouds rolled in,” Ed said.

  “Well Jorie, where is the help from your ancestors tonight?” Amanda’s voice was low and shaky. She was counting on outside help to keep her calm and with darkness fear set in. Why do so many humans fear darkness? The Blackfoot had used darkness as their friend for centuries. Yet, time and technology had even affected my ease with the night skies.

  “It’ll come,” I told her. I wasn’t about to add I hadn’t heard a thing from human or animal recently.

  The tap tap tap signal on the corner of the windowpane made me jump backwards and fall over the chair. Mac entered the front door to find my butt firmly on the floor, my legs in the air fighting a losing battle with the chair seat and my rifle on the floor beside me.

  “Nice view, Cinderella. I feel so much safer knowing I’m attending this ball with you.”

  “Your balls can shove it,” I said, refusing his outstretched hand of help.

  “Don’t even think about calling me an ugly step-sister,” Amanda laughed.

  “Princess, no one could ever call you ugly,” Mac hugged Amanda and kissed her on the cheek. The bum was such a suck-up.

  “Hello darkness, my old friend.” Ed sang looking out from the bedroom. “We changed posts trying to wake-up sleeping beauty, sorry I wasn’t there to get your signal.”

  “I’m happy Sleepy didn’t shoot me,” Mac said, moving away from the windows, trying not to trip over anything in the dark.

  “Enough with the fairytale references,” I said, “what’s going on out there?”

  “They’re on the move. Now that they’re aware we have surface to air guns, and we’ve used the .50 cals, we’ve pushed them to attack from the west pasture.”

  “Which is exactly what we want,” Ed said.

  “What a shame for them,” Amanda added.

  “Do you think they called in more air strikes?” I asked

  “Not likely,” Mac said. “Once we shot down the first aircraft, the DIA in Washington made a phone call with information that should slow down The Bakers interest in pursuing us.”

  I’d seen first hand how The Bakers military members were able to manipulate regular troops into doing their wishes. Soldiers were trained to follow orders without question. When a four-star general issued orders, no one questioned it down the chain of command.

  From that indoctrination example, The Bakers had been reprogramming Americans to ignore analysis and forgo independent thinking to instead, believe without question.

  Rubbing my eyes, I absorbed the feeling of hopelessness. Dragged into a battle I wanted no part in, and forced to accept that politicians and leaders had duped me; was almost more than I could handle. Was this how people trapped in their villages during World War II felt as bombs dropped around them?

  We’d spoken the truth and been called liars and murderers. And now in a world of instant communication, our voices had been quieted.

  “Mac,” I needed to know, “did anyone listen to us?”

  I couldn’t see his expression in the dark room, but I could hear the compassion in his voice. “They heard.”

  “They won’t all disregard us, will they?” I could hear the desperation and loss of faith in my voice; sounds normally foreign to me.

  “We’re not being ignored. The real government is rallying to repair itself, but it is like a body whose legs have been amputated. The brain wants to believe the legs are still there and functioning. It takes time.”

  Amanda spoke from across the room. “Those amputated legs are causing a shit storm of problems for the rest of us right now.”

  I heard the door creak as Mac opened it to leave. “The country is going to go through hell before they understand what’s happened.”

  I strained to see any signs of Mac moving across the ranch.

  There was nothing.

  Chapter 34

  History books have recorded that the end often comes with a whimper. If this was a whimper, I didn’t want to be a part of screaming and yelling. The barrage of gunfire started more like a marching band than a lone bugler. The clouds parted enough to allow the half moon to spotlight the moving soldiers. From my place at the window I watched Frank’s gun explode to life from the covered foxhole.

  Living in the wilderness, owning a backhoe was an essential not a luxury. That old machine had dug many a trench, but never one’s as important as the three foxholes strategically positioned through the pasture. Soon after Frank began shooting, the solider in the second covered foxhole fired his rifle. I watched soldiers take a hard left away from the foxholes, bringing them in line with Mac’s cabin where Todd and Dad awaited them.

  The sound of Ed firing his gun focused my vision closer to us. How had people gotten so close without me seeing them?

  The grass rustled like someone finger combing their hair. I aimed at the center of the motion and pulled the trigger. An arm flopped out of the grass, and with that identifier, I aimed my next shot for where the head should be. The grass lay still.

  “I’m going to puke,” Amanda said after firing her pistol. “The dude was right under the window. I didn’t have a choice. His head exploded like I’d shot a cantaloupe.”

  “Don’t think about it…breathe,” I was trying to take my own advice as I sucked in a deep breath.

  Across the field I saw flashes as Todd or Dad fired their weapons from inside Mac’s cabin.

  I remembered Mac’s words to not let your mind wander like you were watching a television show. He’d said to stay focused on your task or you’d end up dead. I wasn’t in the mood to be dead.

  The sound of numerous types of firearms continued to reverberate across the valley for what seemed like hours, but my watch revealed only nine minutes had passed. The windowpane exploded as something entered the kitchen and rolled across the floor until I heard it hit the leg of the old cook stove.

  “Grenade!” Manny yelled.

  I jumped behind the woodstove and covered my head as the small bomb exploded. The heavy iron of the stove held firm as the contents of my cabin shattered around me. The exhaust pipe from the stove fell on my head, but my arms covering my brain—which was proving to be of little use when it came to grenades—absorbed the hit. Luckily, Mac and Liz had insisted we let the woodstove fires go out so it wouldn’t be obvious where people were hiding; therefore the flu only bruised me instead of burning too.

  “Everyone okay?” Ed called from the bedroom.

  “Good,” I said.

  “Amanda?” Ed and I said at the same time.

  “Hold on to your panties, I’m still checking.” Only Amanda would conduct a thorough search before answering.

  “How about now?” I said. “Missing any body parts?”

  “No, smarty pants, but I am missing my sense of humor.” From best I could tell, she dove through the window before the blast and was somewhere on the front porch.

  “Get back inside before someone sees you,” I said.

  “Don’t worry about me being seen. I’m under the porch. Hey Jorie, did you know there’s a family of weasels living under here?”

  “I wondered what was making all that racket at night.”

  “Don’t think that’ll be a problem anymore because three of them jumped so high when I slid under here that they hit there little heads on the porch boards and took off for safer housing.”

  Manny fired her rifle till the clip emptied. “Don’t mess with me you stupid sons of bitches, my granny taught me how to kick your assess.”

  “Dear God,” Ed said from the bedroom, “yelling at the enemy is not in the military training manual.”

  “Hey Ed, don’t tell me…” the cabin went silent.

  Tap tap tap, I heard from the bedroom. “…not to yell,” Amanda said, accompanied by a thud I assumed was her coming through the open window and dropping on the floor. She next appeared crouched on her knees and attempting to walk that way into the family room. “It’s called a diversion.”

  “Nice to see you,” I said.

&n
bsp; “Thanks. Wow, this place is trashed. The paperwork on this is gonna suck.”

  “Get back to your window,” Ed said.

  “SOBs,” Amanda reiterated, “I had the window open and those idiots had to fire the grenade through the top window and break the whole damn thing.”

  “It’s a government project, what else do you expect?” Ed said, tapping me on the shoulder. “Take your position back in the bedroom.”

  I’m not sure when Ranger Ed took control of this operation, but it didn’t seem like the right time to contest his status. “Yes, sir.” Even in the half darkness I could see him roll his eyes at me.

  “That government project has pissed me off. They’ve killed my friends, destroyed Jorie’s cabin and,” Amanda yelled, “I don’t feel guilty for blowing off that dude’s head anymore. Bring it on you murdering traitors.”

  “You tell them, Manny.” I could barely hear Todd’s voice yelling from Mac’s cabin.

  “Don’t you just love how sound travels at night,” Ed said.

  “Don’t sass me, ranger-man.” Amanda pointed at him.

  “I’d watch it Ed, don’t get Tata riled up.” I laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. “I’m loosing it, now I’m laughing in the middle of a gun battle.”

  “Better than crying,” Amanda said. “Dirt bags incoming on my right.”

  Amanda and Ed fired while I covered the back of the house where I saw someone sneaking up in the grass. Two pulls on the trigger, two bullets hit their mark. “Dumbasses, you already tried that trick once and failed.”

  “Seriously,” Ed yelled, “now you’re screaming at them.”

  “Yes, sir!” I waited for whoever was out there to think I was empty and pop off a shot of their own. I saw the flash and fired the semi-automatic rifle Ed left by the bedside table.

  The jeep exited the barn like someone dropped the green flag at an Indy car race. The machine gun blazing was our cue to hit the dirt. Mac and his crew were implementing their part of our plan. To the three of us huddled in the cabin it meant the end was near. Mac and his group of soldiers were watching and marking where enemy fire was initiating. Now was the time for the rest of our group to lay low and let the professionals finish the job.

  The second jeep shot out of the stacked hay bales, where we had cleared a spot for it to hide. I heard it’s tires spin, trying to find grip in the pasture, and then endless rounds fired from its machine gun as it made its way past Dad’s house and then up the hill between Mac’s and my cabin.

  The gunfire grew sporadic. I peeked out the window just as a grenade exploded outside the root cellar. My heartbeat increased as I asked the Great Spirit to please don’t let my eyes deceive me that the grenade had exploded above ground not inside the cellar.

  The noise of the battle quieted and the wilderness reclaimed her silence.

  We held our positions until a jeep rolled into the field between the cabins.

  I’d left the bedroom and was opening the door to the sound of Mac’s voice calling, all clear. Stepping onto the porch, I heard a loud roar punctuate the night, followed by several rifle rounds.

  The gun quieted, but a low growl like distant thunder continued. A large bear stood over a body holding the neck and back of the head of a human in its jaws. The bear lifted the body in the air and tossed it like it was a piece of paper. Huffing and nodding its head, I responded with two quick head nods. The bear turned and quickly disappeared up the hill and into the trees.

  I looked at Amanda wrapping her jean shirt tight around my bleeding thigh. “Bullet grazed you pretty good. Gonna need Liz to clean it and maybe add a few stitches.”

  “I was hit?”

  “Yep. You doubled over momentarily so I thought it was really bad. But, then you stood up like a proud warrior and just watched as Old One-eye took out the shooter.”

  Someone was helping me back inside the house. “Holy shit, what happened in here?” Mac was talking while holding me up.

  “Where’d you come from?” I asked.

  “Honey,” Amanda said from my other side, “he was here before I got out the door, and he came from halfway across the yard.”

  “Put her in the bedroom,” Ed said, from somewhere behind me. “The mess is from a grenade.”

  “Holy bear attack,” Todd ran in the house, “Jorie, okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Sure you are.” Mac sat down next to me on the bed.

  Words known only to me tumbled forth.

  “What’s she saying?” Mac asked.

  “Its Blackfoot,” Todd said. “Is she dying?”

  “No ding-wad, the bullet only grazed her,” Amanda flicked him on the back of the head.

  A response in Blackfoot came from the front door. Everything was going to be fine.

  Gramps was here.

  Captain Ford entered my bedroom making a grand total of way-too-many in my space. “Is she okay?”

  Gramps squeezed my knee so I would let him do the talking. “She’s fine. Everyone stop worrying. My shaman princess was simply releasing all the animals she had protecting us.”

  “What are you talking about old man?” Captain Ford asked.

  Todd grabbed the captain’s arm. “First, you’ll speak with respect to our old-man. And second, how many people did we lose?”

  “Several injuries, but no casualties.”

  “And you have Jorie’s protection abilities to thank for that.”

  Captain Ford started to speak but Mac interrupted. “Her mother was a member of the Stargate Program. Her ancestors are Blackfoot Shaman. And I’ve witnessed both, Gramps and Jorie, with incredible gifts you literally must see to believe.”

  “I’ll vouch for that.” Ed raised his hand.

  “Well I’ll be damned,” Captain Ford said.

  Gramps nodded at her. “I would like Liz to check out her wound.”

  “Where is Liz?” Captain Ford asked.

  The room fell silent.

  Gramps shook his head. “Oh boy. She’s gonna be pissed.”

  “You left her in the cellar?” Todd asked.

  “Did you think I was going to levitate her out?”

  “Someone better get her fast before she does something stupid like attempt to crawl out on her own,” Captain Ford said.

  “Don’t look at us,” Amanda turned her back on the captain, “no way we’re confronting the piranha.”

  “Oh for heavens sake.” Captain Ford spoke to the soldiers standing on my porch. “Get Agent Daniel out of the cellar and take her to the main house. And tell her, before she starts yelling, if she says anything except please and thank you, she’s fired.”

  I looked at Mac. “Don’t ask. I’ll explain later.”

  Gramps spoke in my good ear. “Did you see that explosion when I threw the grenade at the dudes trying to get us in the cellar? That’s what I call destiny.” He kissed me on the forehead and stood up to leave the room. “Everyone to the main house. I think there’s gonna be a show.”

  Mac helped me up, and wrapped my arm around his waist so I could use him like a crutch. “Will you answer one question?”

  “Sure, sugar.”

  “Don’t.”

  “…call you sugar.” Mac bent down and trailed his lips across my cheek until they reached my lips. They felt like the summer-soft grasses’ blowing across my face as I lay on the ground in the Thorofare watching stars light the night sky. “What’s your question,” he whispered against my lips.

  “The shooter?” I tried to string a sentence together but the taste of his lips was far more interesting.

  “One of the soldiers wasn’t dead. When you came out of the cabin he picked up his rifle, and One-eye took offense at that.”

  “Oh.”

  Mac ran his fingers across the back of my neck and pulled me tight to his body with his other hand. “Any more questions?”

  I shook my head no.

  “This is still the best way to keep you quiet.”

  Yes it
is.

  “Enough hanky-panky,” Todd called from the front door, “your chariot awaits.”

  Todd drove Amanda, Mac, and I in the four-seat Razor to the main house. Liz was on the front porch giving Gramps the stink-eye, while Captain Ford was addressing four enemy soldiers our troops had captured.

  “You are prisoners of the legitimate Army of the United States of America. You were working for a shadow government known as The Bakers; making you a traitor to the USA and your oath to protect the Constitution.”

  Three sets of eyes widened with fear and shock at Captain Ford’s words. One soldier stared at her with no reaction. She fired one shot between his eyes. He hit the ground the same time as the contents of Amanda’s stomach.

  “Have I made myself clear?”

  “Yes ma’am.” They replied to the captain’s question.

  “Good.” She stepped off the porch, walked down to their level, stood before the three remaining soldiers and smiled. “I’m Deputy Director Ford of the Defense Intelligence Agency. Welcome to Camp Ellis, Wyoming.”

  Standing on the ground below the porch I looked up at Liz. “I guess that means she’s in charge?”

  Liz grinned. “It certainly does.”

  Todd entered Frank’s guest bedroom, where Liz was staying, and tapped me on the shoulder. “I’m going to need a raise.”

  “Sure thing. Double whatever you get now,” I answered with a smile.

  “Is she taking your medication?” Todd asked Liz, who was finishing up wrapping my thigh.

  “Nope. Director Ford just told her you are all now on the DIA payroll as consultants.” Liz winked at Todd, “I may have encouraged her to ask for hazard pay and outrageous salaries.”

  “Hot damn,” Todd yelled, running to tell Amanda in the kitchen, “we’re officially spies.”

  “That didn’t go exactly like I thought,” Liz said. “I assumed he’d just be happy to have a job since the USGS fired you.”

  “Thanks for reminding me.” The USGS had demanded all our research—as in evidence—be turned over to them immediately. Director Ford told them to go to hell, as the research was part of a criminal investigation, she then threatened to shut down all their operations in the park. She reimbursed them for our grant and suggested they not pursue it any further. It shut them up, but it also got us pink slips. Deputy Director Ford was paying us to finish our research grant in hopes of finding other evidence. Okay, that other evidence was mostly a ruse, but it kept us employed and allowed our research to be completed. Whatever else the DIA might use our expertise for in the short-term future was still to be decided. I tried not to think about what the Director meant by expertise or why she’d need us. But I was damn sure she didn’t need Tata as agents.