The Beginning of the End (21 page)

“Why are you going to
frisk me?”

“No, it’s because I
don’t want you to break my nose with those feet when I open the
door.” Sidara smiled and leaned her face against the cinderblock
wall and spread her legs. Cowboy opened the door and gave it a push,
“Get in!” Sidara looked back at Cowboy, “What if I don’t want
to go in there?” He let out a sigh, “Then I’ll shoot you with
my tranq gun, drag you in there, and then you’ll wake up with one
hell of a headache.” For the second time in five minutes, Sidara
conceded to the cowboy. She knew there wouldn’t be a third. She
stepped into the room, and the door slammed behind her. “Fuck you!”
she screamed while turning to check out her new cell.

Sage, Kate, and Jen
were sitting in a circle on the floor. She walked over to the three
women, eyed Sage and Kate, but said nothing. Sidara squatted down
next to the third woman, “You must be Jennifer. We’ve been
looking for you!” Jen looked up, wide-eyed and mouth open, “How
did you know my name?”

“I met up with your
boys, Chevy and Two-gun. They saved my ass, so I told them I would
help find you before I headed south.” Jen gave Sidara an
inquisitive look, “Two-gun?” she asked. “Yeah, Two-gun……
Ty? It’s a nickname I gave him, because of that fancy holster.”
Jen knew the exact holster she was taking about. Ty wanted to wear it
every time he went to the range with his father. She thought it was
absurd, but boys will be boys, “Are they both okay, and is their
father with them?” Sidara thought she would soften the blow by
letting her know the Chevy and Ty were fine, but explained that she
wasn’t sure where their dad was. Jen stood up and wrapped her arms
around Sidara, “Thank you!”

“For what?” Sidara
asked.

“Because now I know,
at least my boys are fine. Until now, I had no idea.”

Sidara gave a little
laugh, “They had better be fine. They’re the ones that are going
to get us out of here!”

October 12th 7:40am

Bob steered the jeep
off the road and into the grass median between the north and
southbound lanes. He studied the Customs' booths. The only movement
he saw, was coming from the border patrol agent who was now pacing
back and forth. The agent was guarding the border, even in death.
“Listen closely to me, Sophie. No matter what happens, I need you
to stay here in the vehicle. You’re the only person left that can
fix the world, if something happens to me. Start the vehicle and
drive south, stay on the highways until you reach Atlanta. Don’t
look back!”

Tears already started
flowing down her cheeks, “We don’t need the rifle! Let’s just
go around. Please, Bob!” He grabbed both of Sophie’s hands, “You
know we can’t do that Sophie. Who knows whom or what is out there
waiting for us? We need some kind of protection.” Sophie dropped
her head and continued to cry against Bob. He put a finger on her
chin and lifted her head until their eyes met, “Hey, it will be
okay. I’ll be right back!” Bob gave Sophie a kiss on the lips and
opened the jeep door. He stepped out and grabbed the paper cutter
guillotine. He took one last look at Sophie and turned walking away.
“Bob, I love you!” she called out. Bob stopped and turned back to
her, “I love you too, Sophie!” Bob kissed his hand and blew it to
her. Without realizing it, she grabbed the kiss from the air and held
it to her heart.

Bob watched the border
patrol agent pace in the open gate. He bent over and ran a slow jog,
like he had just exited a helicopter. The median grew deeper as he
got closer to the border crossing, giving him the perfect cover. When
he reached the border, the median was blocked by an eight-foot
chain-link fence topped with razor wire. Bob wanted to avoid that
wire at all costs. He had no choice, but to work his way up to the
median and attack the border agent from the front. On his hands and
knees, he crawled up the incline and stopped, lying flat, looking
over the top of the berm. The agent was just standing there now,
moaning with every other breath. There was no way to get any closer
without the agent seeing him. He had no choice. Bob’s final thought
as he jumped over the side of the berm was if the dead agent had
remembered how to use that rifle he had slung across his chest. As
luck would have it, he didn’t. The agent never went for the rifle,
but rather lifted his arms and made an awkward attempt of a trot
toward Bob.

Bob picked up speed,
charging the agent. The two men looked as though they would collide.
At the last second, Bob twisted, doing a side step, and swung the
guillotine completely removing the agent’s arm. He stopped and
turned back to the agent, now lying on the ground. Bob paused to
watch the blue swirling corneas, before lifting the guillotine over
his head, “I’m sorry about this, my friend.” The blade dropped
slicing the agent’s head open. Black fluid oozed onto the pavement.
Bob un-slung the M4 rifle and took the ammo pouch off the dead agent.
He glanced back at the jeep and gave Sophie a successful wave. She
stepped out of the vehicle and hurried to Bob. They met with an
embrace, “Don’t ever leave me again, you son of a bitch!”
Sophie sniveled. Bob laughed and gave her a kiss on the lips, “Don’t
worry, never again. I promise.”

A minute later, they
were back at the jeep, “Have you ever shot a rifle before, Sophie?”
She gave him a ridiculous look. “I didn’t think so.” he said,
while handing her the M4, “Here’s your two-minute lesson.” Bob
stripped the mag from the rifle and showed Sophie how to load it and
chamber a round, “This is your safety.” Bob pointed to a thumb
lever behind the trigger, “Bring it up to your shoulder, look
through the sights and put the peep hole on whatever you want to hit.
Now pull the trigger.” Sophie pulled the trigger striking a red
octagon shaped sign that read ARRET. She lowered the gun and said,
“That was kind of fun.” Bob smiled. “Well, I’m glad you
enjoyed it.” He took the rifle from her hands joking, “Let’s
get in the jeep Annie Oakley. We’ve got a lot of road to travel
today.” Bob turned as a dead woman lashed out, taking a hunk of
meat from his neck. Neither of them had seen her coming. Bob screamed
and dropped to the ground. The dead woman straddled him taking more
bites from his chest and face. He tried to fight back, but he was too
weak from losing so much blood. Bob felt his eyes starting to close
as he saw the guillotine strike the woman on the side of the head.
The dead woman stood up, spinning in circles with the guillotine
sticking in the side of her face. After a few seconds, she dropped to
the ground kicking her feet. Sophie yanked the blade from the woman’s
face, lifted it above her head, and struck again. This time she
buried the blade all the way into her skull. Sophie left the blade
where it stopped and ran over to Bob. He was clutching his neck, and
blood was coming out from between his fingers. Sophie ripped off part
of her shirt and held it against the wound, “Don’t you die on me,
Bob? You made me a promise!” Bob smiled at her. His teeth were
covered with blood. Sophie knew the cut was mortal. “We need to get
you in the jeep and find some place I can help you.” Sophie dragged
Bob into the jeep and drove through the border, looking for a place
that might have medical supplies. Sophie got off the highway exit and
came into a small village on the New York side of the border. She had
luck on her side. The first building she saw in the village was an
animal clinic. She pulled into the parking lot, jumped out of the
jeep and ran for the clinic door. She banged her fists on the glass,
screaming for help. Glancing back at the jeep, she could see Bob
turning pale. Sophie picked up a rock and smashed out a side window
on the clinic. She crawled through, and unlocked the door. By the
time she got back to Bob, he was passed out, “Wake up! You have to
help me. Get on your feet soldier!” she ordered. Half conscious,
Bob made it to his feet, and they hobbled into the clinic. They made
it to the lobby, where Bob collapsed on the floor. Sophie left him to
search for medical supplies. She found gauze, bandages, and silk for
stitches. Sophie raced back to the lobby, poured iodine over the
wound and packed it with gauze. “Sophie, please stop.” Bob held
her hand and tried to manage a smile, “I love you!” he mouthed.

Sophie bent over
clutching his face, “Please don’t go! I love you too! Please no!”
she cried as she buried her face in his chest. Bob lifted a hand and
put it on the back of her neck, “It’s gonna be okay, baby. Get to
Atlanta! Be strong for me.”

“No! I can’t do it
by myself! Please Bob, I need your help!” Sophie felt Bob’s hand
slide off her neck and fall to the floor. “No!” she screamed.

October 13th Noon

After three hours of
hunting the diesel on foot, the trail seemed to disappear, “They
must have turned off somewhere!” I said trying to figure out how we
had lost it. Chevy was walking around the road in circles trying to
spot it again, “It’s not here, Ty. They had to have pulled in
somewhere.”

“I don’t understand
it. We haven’t passed anything except a few gas stations and the
fairgrounds.” Chevy perked up, “That’s it, the fairgrounds!”

“That doesn’t make
any sense. There’s nothing there, except a bunch of buildings, and
they’re mostly barns.” Chevy shook his head at me, “No dude,
you’re way wrong! Think about it, they have all those buildings.
They’re full of food and water. They’ve got barns there that are
mini power stations. Their generators run all the rides and power the
summer concerts. That’s not all. What’s behind the fairgrounds?”
I shrugged my shoulders, “I don’t know. I've never been back
there. It’s all gated off because of the……. Holy shit! The Army
Reserve Center.”

“You got it, buddy!
Food, power and the National Guard Center. Where do you think they
got the Humvee from?” Chevy was right, Army vehicles and weapons.

I thought about it for
a second, “We can’t just go strolling in there. They could have
Bazookas and shit!” Chevy rolled his eyes at me, “I don’t think
they have bazookas anymore, Ty. Even so, I bet they might have access
to some pretty bad-ass weapons!”

“So we need to come
up with a plan, and it’s gotta be a good one. Let’s head back to
your truck, and I’ll try to come up with something.” An hour
later, I wished we hadn’t left the truck by the dealership. We
still had a good two-hour walk ahead of us. About a third of the way
back, we had to cross the old turnpike, and it gave me an idea, “Hey
Chevy, do you remember when we use to have outdoor parties back in
high school?” He shook his head and smiled, “Like the one at the
Barracks Golf Course? Yeah, that was epic!” Chevy used his hand to
simulate his truck flying over the pond. “Yeah, I know the story. I
was there, but I was thinking about the times we use to party down
the old turnpike near Wiggle Town.” Treadwell Mills was the real
name of West Plattsburgh, just beyond the city line, but ever since I
could remember it had a slang name, and that was Wiggle Town. The
only thing worse than a town with the word wiggle in it, was the fact
that the town’s occupants were referred to as Wigglers. Sometimes
you can’t make this shit up.

Chevy was listening
intently, “Of course, I do. We use to party back on the trails all
the time.” Hoping for him to catch on without having to explain
everything, “Where do those trails end?” Chevy responded, “At
the Saranac River, and the back of the fairgrounds. That’s it!”
he grabbed me by arm and pointed toward the woods off the road, “We
can take my truck down the trails and spy on those guys from the
woods. They’ll never see us!”

“Jeez, that’s a
good idea Chevy!” I said sarcastically. “Thanks, Ty!” Sometimes
all you could do was shake your head. Surprisingly, we didn’t run
into any trouble on the rest of the way back to the truck. I made
sure we stayed off the roadway, and we both kept a good eye out for
the Humvee.

We got back to the
truck and got off Cornelia Street. We didn’t want to take a chance
of being spotted again. Chevy was eating, so I drove. I backtracked
into the city and cut across the west end housing area. The west-end
started behind Plattsburgh State University and slowly inclined up to
the edge of the city limits. Like most towns in America, the further
up the hill you got, the more your house was worth. Once we were out
of the west-end, I hit Rugar Street, which brought us right into
Wiggle Town. It had been a few years since we had been in those
woods, they had changed quite a bit. There used to be a turn off from
the main trail, but it was now blocked by a trailer park. “What do
you think?” I asked Chevy. With a mouth full of a granola bar he
answered, “Screw it. They’re all dead. Drive right through their
yards. The trail has still got to be back there. It's just gonna be a
little bumpy getting to it.” I stepped on the gas and tore through
someone’s front yard. We came around the back of the trailer, and
we could see the trail head. It looked like it had years earlier, it
was obviously used daily by Wiggle Town’s four-wheeler
connoisseurs. The trail was a little rough, but it stayed wide
enough, we didn’t have to find an alternate route. We took a couple
of wrong turns, but eventually made it back to the fairgrounds.
“Okay, so what do we do now?” Chevy asked.

“Grab the
fifty-caliber out of the back, we’ll climb up on those rocks, and
stake it out.” About fifty yards away was an outcrop of boulders,
most likely leftovers from the glacier that created Lake Champlain.
Some of the moraine were as big as houses. Two large stones ahead of
us supported each other on top and left a small opening at the
bottom. It was just big enough for us to set up the fifty-caliber and
use the scope without being detected. “We’re gonna have to stay
alert now Chev. One of us needs to make sure those guys in the
building don’t spot us, while the other patrols the back, so the
dead don’t sneak up from behind us.” I had the rifle set up on
the ground using the bi-pod for support. Chevy nudged me over, “Do
you mind if I take first watch with the fifty? I’m kind of excited
to use it.”