American Revenant (Book 3): The Monster In Man (5 page)

Chapter 8

For the sake of keeping a
close eye on their food stores the council opted to continue communal meal
times until enough food was being produced, hunted or scavenged that running
out was no longer a concern. 

Lynn had asked for and
been given the council position of Food and Rationing.  Immediately people
began calling her the Food Czar, a term she despised, which meant that her
brothers Calvin and Dean used it mercilessly. 

“Morning, Sis, I’m
heading out to do a quick patrol through town, you want me to take some food to
Becca and Louis?” 

“I thought Garret was on
duty this morning.”

“He is; I’m giving him a
ride down there.  Louis will be coming up, but Becca will probably head back
home to wake Dean up.  Figure I can take them some food and spare them the trip
up here, they can eat and go get some sleep.”

“Wow, Cal, I’m beginning
to think you may actually have a heart in there,” she said, wearing a lopsided
grin.

“You may be right,
Lynnie, but if I don’t get something to eat I may just waste away, then what
happens to my wonderful heart? Huh, tell me that?” he said, grinning back at
her.

“You don’t need more
food,” Lynn said, poking him in his significantly decreased belly.

Calvin picked up the bag
of food Lynn had placed on the table for him and threw a fist up in mock
salute.  “Yes, Food Czar!”  He backed through the door, laughing when he heard
Lynn shout “Jerkface!” as the door closed behind him.

“What was all that
about?” Garret asked, taking the bag of food from Cal as he climbed into the
old Dodge pickup.

“Just giving Lynn a hard
time.  It’s easy to do and always worth a laugh.  I mean, what else are younger
sisters for right?” 

Garret chuckled, “Yeah, I
guess so.”

Calvin thought for a
moment before asking, “You have any brothers or sisters before all this went
down?”

“Nope, only child.  Dad
died four years ago, well, I guess it would be five now.”  Garret’s voice was
steady as he said it, making Calvin wonder.

“Man, I’m sorry Garret.”

“It’s ok.  I saw him
maybe twice a year, if that.  Kind of hard to get to know someone when they
only stop in to see you when it’s convenient.”

Garret’s reply answered
the question that Calvin wanted to ask.

Calvin drove slowly in
the low light of early dawn, watching along the rows of empty homes for
anything that shouldn’t be there. 

“I can’t believe how much
of the wall you guys got done the other day,” Calvin said to change the
subject.

“Yeah, just a few hundred
more feet and it’ll be done.”

“Good, I think that’ll
help everyone to feel a bit safer, at least those that are still staying at the
camp.  You plan on moving into a house?”

Garret did not reply
immediately, considering his answer.  “Louis and I have talked about sharing a
place, but I’m not so sure.  I might, I don’t know yet.  The Cambrey house is
nice, and everyone pretty much stays out of everyone else’s way.”

Calvin, unsure how to
respond, made the right turn onto Highway E in silence.  He pulled to a stop
behind the tiny guard house, and stepped out of the car. 

Louis poked his head out
and waved.  “Morning guys.”

Calvin held the bag of
food up.  “Morning Louis, hungry?”

“Better be some for me in
there, I’m starving!”

All heads turned to see
Rebecca walking toward them from the house that sat less than fifty feet from
the corner where they had built the bridge. 

“Brought enough for
everybody, I promise.”

Rebecca walked up to
Calvin, taking the bag from him.  “Thanks, Cal.  Hi Garret.  Morning Louie,
Louie.” 

Rebecca pulled her
ever-present and always changing ball-cap back and stuck her face into the
plastic bag of food, inhaling deeply.  “Ahhhh, smells good.  Never could turn
down powdered eggs, precooked bacon, and toast made from homemade bread.” 
Though she made light of the meal, Rebecca always enjoyed the food Lynn
prepared.

Louis stepped out of the
shack, reaching for the bag of still-hot food when it exploded in Rebecca’s
hands. 

They were taken
completely by surprise, the shots not registering for several seconds.  Calvin
dropped straight to the ground, realizing that he had left his M4 carbine in
the truck.  Rebecca dropped the shreds of the bag, and turned toward the
house.  She cried out and continued turning in a full spin before falling into
the shallow ditch.

Louis screamed, falling
face first to the roadway, low crawling toward the direction that Rebecca had
fallen.

Fully automatic weapon
fire continued to rattle and pop from the direction of Highway 79.  Calvin was
pushing himself backward over the blacktop, toward the truck, while keeping
eyes front, watching for whoever was firing at them.  He saw Garret jerk
backward and fall, clutching at his stomach.

Through the pipe slats of
the upright cattle guard Calvin saw a pickup truck which had stopped at the end
of the road, roughly two hundred yards from the drawbridge.  He could just make
out several people standing in the back of the truck, possibly two others
standing beside the vehicle.

“Becca! Becca!”

Calvin glanced to his
right, to see Dean charging out of the house, protected by the wall but coming
quickly toward the open area near the guard shack. 

It looked as if Dean had
woken at the first sound of gunfire, grabbed his rifle and went for the door. 
Calvin thought “No Shirt, No Shoes, No Gunfight” and almost laughed.  He could
feel hysteria beginning to creep up on him.

Dean made it to the ditch,
dropping down beside Rebecca.  He examined her shoulder, dismayed to see so
much blood.  “Becca, babe, you ok?”

“Don’t call me ‘babe’,
damn it, how many times do I have to tell you that.  Go help, hurts like a
bitch, but I’m ok.  Go.” 

Dean hesitated for half a
second, unable to draw himself away from his wounded fiancée.  She smiled; he
nodded and began to low crawl toward the fallen Garret.

Shots cracked from behind
him, causing him to jerk his rifle around, fearing that whoever this was they
had somehow gotten people in to flank them.  Calvin leaned around the open door
of the truck, beginning to fire back at their assailants. 

Dean made it to Garret,
could see the bright red bloom on the front of the boy’s shirt, and the slow
rise of his chest.  “Hang in there Garret, we’ll get you out of here.”  The boy
moaned, as if in reply, but it was obvious to Dean that Garret had passed out
in shock.

He turned his rifle
toward the men shooting from the truck and began to return fire.  He breathed
deep, trying not to rush his shots, but his heart was beating so hard that he
was finding it difficult to steady his weapon. 

“Fuck it,” he said aloud,
and began pulling the trigger, controlling it to the best of his ability.  He
could still hear his brother firing from behind him. 

Dean wanted to shout a
warcry when he saw one of the men in the truck bed go down.  The others dropped
into the bed, both men standing outside the truck quickly climbing back
inside.  Dean and Calvin continued firing even as the truck fishtailed back
onto the highway, disappearing within seconds.

Dean turned to Garret,
lifting his shirt to examine the wound in his abdomen.  Calvin came running up,
a first aid kit in hand.

Dean was tearing open a
large gauze pad to use as a compress when he heard tires squalling on
pavement.  He turned to see two vehicles barreling down on their position.  The
De Soto screeched to a halt ten feet away, with another old pickup right behind
it.  Mike and Rick came out of the lead car fast and low, staying behind the
wide open doors with rifles up.

Alex and Daniel slid out
of truck, both armed and watching the area all around them.

“Where are they?” Mike
called.

“Gone,” Dean called back,
“one truck, with a bunch of guys.  They took off when we hit one of them.”

The new arrivals to the
scene walked forward, weapons at low ready, expecting another surprise attack. 
Rebecca stood up in the dry ditch, clutching her bleeding shoulder.  Rick
rushed over, but she waved him away, claiming that she was fine.

“Do we know who it was?”
Rick asked. 

“It didn’t look like the
same truck as before, but I’m pretty damn sure it was the same people.  Listen,
we can talk about this later, Garret’s hit bad.  Help me get him into the truck
and you guys take him to Mom.”

The men gathered around
Garret, lifting him as gently as they could, but causing the semi-conscious boy
make low noises of pain in his throat.  Alex and Daniel took Garret and Rebecca
back to camp, while the others remained behind, keeping watch.

The rest of the men stood
silently watching as the truck pulled away.  Dean was the first to break the
silence.

“We have to do something
about these assholes, and now, before they do anymore damage.”

The others nodded, even
Louis, who just then felt the rapidly cooling wet patch at the front of his
jeans.  He glanced up at the others, his face blushing several shades of red
before he spun on his heel and ran for the house.

“Let him go,” Mike said
to the others, “we have bigger things to worry about than some kid’s ego.  What
are you suggesting, Dean?”

“All of us, with Jimmy
and Alex, take the fight to them.  We can’t sit around waiting for them to hit
us again, hoping we take out one or two when they do.”

“I agree, Dean,” Rick
said, looking directly at him, “but we have to be smart about this.  We can’t
just storm their little castle and hope to come out on top.  We don’t know if
we saw every member of that group.  They could have eight men, or eighty, we
just don’t know.  What we do know is, they have automatic weapons and we don’t. 
There’s no telling what other weapons or ordnance they may have found in that
place.”

“Ok, ok, I get it. 
Waiting is a bad idea though.  We need to move, tonight if possible.”

“Let’s take this to Dad,”
Calvin said, “get his opinion on the situation.  We need to get Jimmy and Alex
involved as well.”

“Calvin, you mind waiting
here?  We’ll send Daniel, and someone else, down to take over guard duty.”

“Sure, Rick.  I’ll be
here waiting, just tell them to hurry.”

“Will do, keep your eyes
open.”

Dean, Mike and Rick piled
into the De Soto and headed back to Oko Tipi.

Chapter 9

“We can’t deal with these
kinds of injuries, damn it!  I don’t have half the supplies I need to get in
there and make sure nothing major was torn apart.  Even if I could, I don’t
have a sterile environment to work in, or the antibiotics to fight off anything
but the mildest infection!”

Jan’s voice continued to
rise.  She stormed around the large room of the main meeting hall, fuming about
the attacks and injuries.

Looking from Dean to Calvin,
she said, “Your Dad’s knee is shot.  I’m almost certain it needs surgical
attention to repair it properly.  It’s not life threatening in the immediate
sense, but it won’t heal properly.  He won’t walk again, not without help, or
he’ll need a wheelchair.  If he can’t walk, he can’t run, if he can’t run…” 
She was unable to finish the thought, dreading the future for a man that
couldn’t run in the world they now inhabited.

“Jan, we have two
situations, both dire.  You need medical supplies and medicine, the real stuff,
not scavenged home meds.  We also have a group of nutbags who are more than
willing to come after us or anyone else without thinking twice about it.”

“Make your point, Mike,”
Jan said, scowling.

“We need to prioritize,
remove the threat to everyone before we can even think about trying for the
medical stuff.”

Jan opened her mouth as
if she were about to start yelling, at Mike and everyone.  Her eyes began to
shimmer as her mouth slowly closed.  She looked defeated, her will to shout
deflating with her spirit, as she resigned herself to losing yet another life.

“Do what you need to do,”
she told the assembled group.  “I’m not sure how long I can keep Garret alive,
but I’ll do what I can.  I have to get back over there.  Let me know when you guys
are planning on leaving.”  She walked slowly to the door, leaving without
looking back.

Rick turned to those
remaining behind, including Rebecca, Tam, and Lisa.  The cold stares from the
women told him everything he needed to know about their thoughts on the
subject.

Mike spoke up, breaking
the uncomfortable quiet.  “We have to do this.  No one will be safe as long as
these pricks keep running around popping off shots,” he said, looking at Lisa,
but speaking to everyone.

“We know what has to be
done, Mike,” Tam told him, “doesn’t mean we have to like it.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Lisa
glared at her husband, as if expecting him to argue. 

“Do you want to go?” he
asked.

She continued to stare
for a moment before responding.  “I don’t want
anyone
to go, but I’m not
stupid enough to think we can turtle up and be safe.  That just means we’re
waiting to die.  Go, get it done and come home.”

“This isn’t going to be a
run-and-gun kind of deal.  I just want everyone to know that.  We may be out
all night, possibly two.  We have to set up somewhere, a sort of base camp, go
in slow, maybe even use guerrilla tactics to lower their numbers a bit.  That’s
after we take time to recon the area.”  Rick stopped, taking time to briefly
look every person in the eye, to impress upon them the seriousness of the
mission.  “This isn’t going to be easy, and everyone needs to realize that,
right now.”

The room was silent, no
one wanting to speak, fearing they would scream, or cry, or worse, say they had
changed their mind, did not want to go. 

After a long,
uncomfortable minute Dean said, “Ok, then.  Let’s figure out a plan and get
moving.”  Though he tried, he was unable to avoid Rebecca’s hard look, and it
made him squirm uncomfortably.

Over the next hour the
entire group assembled in the main hall, women included, went over plans for
the mission.  They devised and revised as each person made suggestions, until
they felt that they had a solid, viable plan of action in place.  

Rick stood up,
stretching, “I’m going to spend a little time with Trish and Tyler.  Everyone
meet back in here in an hour.” 

Those with families,
children, took the opportunity to enjoy some time just throwing a ball, or
talking and laughing, several stood on the ball field with bows, practicing
archery together.

Those
leaving for the mission tried their hardest not to let fear and apprehension
ruin the time.  Those being left behind soaked in the moments spent together,
hoping they wouldn’t be the last.