Compass Call: Survival & Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 3) (38 page)

“Of course. Give me the keys to the van and I’ll bring it in,” said Pete.

John tossed the van keys to Pete and watched as his friend trotted off. Once again, John appreciated Pete’s company more than he could put into words. He tried to imagine how different things would have been if Pete, and Paul too for that matter, weren’t now a part of his family. He looked at Paul and the two men exchanged mutually respectful nods of appreciation. But John noticed something different in Paul’s eyes. He saw that the fight with the biker gang leader had changed Paul, that it made him stronger, and gave him his pride and confidence back. John noticed that Paul was a new man.

He was now more curious than ever to learn what Paul did. “It’s good to see you alive and well, Paul,” said John, as he walked over to Adam.

“Good to see you too, boss,” said Paul. He saw the prisoners gawk at John and yelled, “Hey, what are you looking at? Get back to work!”

Only three dead bikers remained, their uncovered bodies positioned near the ground where the unfinished graves were being dug. John counted the filled graves as he passed, and couldn’t help but marvel at the turn of events, that they had somehow managed to eliminate a numerically superior enemy force without losing anyone in the company. But then he remembered Luanne. He almost turned to Paul to have him tell the bikers to dig another grave, but he decided to wait. He felt more than knew that it was important to talk to Adam first.

He approached his son and embraced him warmly. John noted that Adam was careful to hold his rifle in such a way that it didn’t threaten their safety, which was a hard thing to do when hugging with a long gun in your hands. John saw that Adam had also changed, but in a different way from Paul. “It’s good to see you, son,” said John, while holding the embrace a while longer.

“It’s good to see you too, dad. You won’t believe what happened here. We kicked their butts,” said Adam.

“I see that. How’s mom doing?”

“She’s good. We moved the dead guys over here before she could see them laying around in front of the house, but she came over here anyway. All the mom’s did,” said Adam. “For some reason they all wanted to see the dead bikers . . . to see what happened to them,” said Adam.

“Is she upset?”

“About you being gone, or the fighting?” asked Adam.

“Well . . . both,” said John.

“It’s funny, she didn’t seem that worried about either one. Well, at first she was nervous and stuff, but then something happened that calmed her down. Pete too. He was in the kitchen talking with them . . . not very happy about you being gone . . . but then it got all quiet. Right after that everyone was focused and preparing for the bikers. You should have seen us, dad. We were awesome,” added Adam, but then he looked down and wouldn’t raise his head.

John saw tears running down Adam’s cheeks and he rested an arm around his son’s shoulders. “I’m sorry I scared you,” consoled John.

Adam looked up, careful to remain hidden from view of the biker prisoners. He moved a little to his left to keep John in their line of sight. It was obvious to John that Adam didn’t want the bikers to see him crying, so he moved to block their view. “It’s not that,” said Adam, as he wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I knew you were safe, too.”

John moved softly on to the topic Pete had warned him about, “Was it all the fighting?”

With eyes filled with tears, Adam looked at John and said, “I killed one of the men, dad. I shot and killed one of the bikers,” and he began to sob.

John embraced his son and whispered into his ear. “Adam, what you did was save lives, not take them. You protected your mom and your sister. You protected everyone in the house.” John squeezed him tight and pushed him to arm’s length to look at his face. “I’m glad you feel this way. I would have been much more worried if you didn’t. You’re showing me that you actually care about human life . . . and that you understand the consequences of taking it and protecting it. I’m very proud of you.”

Adam wiped at his face and said, “Thanks dad. I thought you would be upset with me.”

“Why would I be upset?” asked John.

“I just . . . I don’t know. I just thought you wouldn’t want me to get involved like that . . . that I was too young to be a Soldier,” said Adam, as he wiped at his eyes and nose again.

“I think you’re all Soldiers now,” said John, as he squeezed Adam’s shoulders. “I’m very proud of you for standing up to the bikers and defending the family. I’m even more proud of you for talking to me about how you feel. What you did here today was honorable, Adam. There’s no shame in it. You acted with courage and bravery, and I’m very, very proud of you.”

“Thanks, dad. I think I should help Paul guard the prisoners, but can we talk more, later? I want to tell you about everything that happened,” said Adam, as he did a final clearing wipe of his eyes. “You should have seen Paul, dad. He killed the gang leader with that sword you gave him. It was sick,” finished Adam in a low tone.

John nodded and smiled. “I bet it was, and I look forward to our talk later. I’m glad you’re safe, and that you helped Pete while I was away. I’m so proud of you.” John turned to see Pete climb out of the van and asked Adam, “Do you think mom wants to see me now?”

“You mean, am I OK?” asked Adam. John nodded and studied his son’s face closely. “Yeah, I’m good, dad. Thanks.”

“Good. I love you, son. I’ll be back in a minute,” said John as he gave Adam another hug before walking away.

John ignored the gawking bikers as he passed. Paul barked at them again, but John had no interest in engaging them at all, not yet. He didn’t trust his feelings and was afraid he’d respond to any rudeness or provocation with violence. And since he wasn’t interested in more death, especially after hearing Adam’s heartfelt confession, he thought it safe to imagine them gone. Pete was walking toward him and he decided to meet him and move their conversation elsewhere.

John’s first question to Pete was about the prisoners, and Pete’s answer actually surprised him. In the Army, the military police were responsible for handling and securing prisoners, and John figured his friend would already have a plan for disposing of them. As it turned out, Pete had the same question for John, and he too was surprised that John hadn’t already thought of something. They walked a short distance away and stopped when they were out of ear shot of the grave detail.

“I’m actually surprised you took prisoners,” said John.

Pete scratched his head and looked over at Corbin and Marcus as they dumped another bucket of water on one of the many patches of spilled blood in front of the house. “If the boys weren’t watching . . . maybe, but they surrendered, hands in the air and all that. Nobody at the overpass surrendered, so there were no prisoners to take,” replied Pete.

“You’re right, as always. We can’t just kill them,” said John.

“But we can’t let them go either,” added Pete, “at least not as a group. I was thinking we could spread them out though, you know, blindfold them, and drop them off one at a time in different areas around the county.”

“That’s a lot of driving,” said John.

“There’s enough gas in the van,” replied Pete.

“That’s probably the best way to deal with them. We just need them away and apart until we leave. After that it won’t matter anymore,” said John, as he turned to watch the prisoners slide another body into a grave and begin the backfill process.

The two men stood together and watched the activity, each silently considering their options. Suddenly, Pete turned to John and knocked lightly on his shoulder. “I also think we should mark them before we let them go.”

“What do you mean?” asked John.

“Just that,” said Pete. “Mark them so we’ll know they were here.” John nodded and Pete continued, “That way we can recognize them if we come across them again . . . they’ll also stand out to other people,” finished Pete.

“That’s a good idea . . . like the finger marking thing we did in Iraq during their national elections. But what do you have in mind for marking them? We don’t have any of that special ink,” said John.

“Actually I was thinking more along the lines of dismemberment,” said Pete.

John turned and studied Pete’s face carefully, wanting to be sure his friend wasn’t joking before he responded. “You’re talking about Sharia law,” said John.

“If that were the case then we’d be considering them for slavery, or death,” replied Pete. “No, I was thinking more along the lines of taking a small part of their index finger, right here,” said Pete, as he pointed to the spot, “at the second interphalangeal joint.” John cocked his head and Pete said, “I took a semester of sport’s medicine in college . . . human anatomy was in the curriculum,” replied Pete with a shrug.

“Well, that’s certainly an option,” said John. “It reminds me of a story I heard about the French cutting off the index and middle fingers of the English longbow-men during the Hundred Years War. It would make it much harder for the bikers to shoot a pistol, that’s for sure, but I don’t know . . . it still sounds barbaric . . . and too much like Sharia law for my comfort. You know they still do that in Iran . . . they still
cut off peoples fingers as punishment. They actually have finger cutting machines,” said John with a look at his own finger. “It would be a bloody and ugly task. Besides, no one in our group got hurt,” finished John, as he looked over at the prisoners.

“You know they would have if given a chance,” said Pete.

“I’m sure you’re right, but the point is they didn’t. Taking their fingers would be punishing them for a crime they didn’t commit,” said John.

“You’re right, but we should do something to mark them . . . not necessarily for us, but for everyone in the neighborhood,” replied Pete.

“I agree, but let’s think about it for a bit. I need to go check in with Jenna and Abby,” said John, as he began to walk away. After a few steps he stopped, turned to face Pete, and said, “Hey, Pete?”

“Yeah, boss.”

“Have the men dig one more grave. I’ve got another body in the van.”

“I saw her. I admit I was surprised, but I figured you’d talk about it when you were ready,” said Pete.

John was silent for a moment and said, “I don’t want her buried next to the men. Can you find her a spot worthy of a fallen friend?”

Pete looked curious, but John knew he would take care of it. “I’ll explain later,” added John.

Pete offered a simple “You got it,” and walked off toward the grave detail.

John reached the house, and as soon as he squeezed through the door Abby jumped into his arms. She had abandoned her lookout position in the alcove to embrace her dad enthusiastically, but after a mere second of contact she pushed away and said, “Ew! Daddy, you smell terrible . . . like you peed yourself.”

John laughed and said, “Thanks babe. I’m happy to see you too. If you must know I didn’t pee myself, but I did fall into a toilet.”

“Gross. Then can I hug you later?” she asked, and then she turned and yelled at the top of her lungs, “Mom! Dad’s back!”

Jenna emerged from the master bedroom, paused for a moment to study John from a distance, and then walked up to him with open
arms. They embraced, and John was glad she didn’t mind how bad he smelled. Marissa and Bonnie offered a greeting of their own, but none was more appreciated than the attention he received from Jenna. He was glad she wasn’t upset with him, though it would have been justified. He was also pleased that everyone looked well, happy even, and stronger than before he left. The battle with the bikers didn’t cast a dark cloud over the house, it did the opposite, it strengthened and united everyone more than ever before.

When Jenna and John were left standing in the entryway, she took John’s hand and led him to the master bedroom. “First, a shower for you. You smell really bad, and your face, John. Are you OK? And where did you get that shirt?”

“It’s a long story, babe, so can I tell you from the shower? I’ve got work to do before it gets dark,” said John as he began to strip in the bathroom. “Have people been coming for water?”

“Strangely no. Nobody’s asked for water since . . .” she paused and thought for a moment. “Now that I think about it, people stopped coming for water as soon as you left for your meeting. That’s odd. What does it mean?” asked Jenna.

“It means either word of the biker raid was already floating around the neighborhood, or Tony’s assistant stopped issuing water coupons for that block of time. But it could also mean that everyone who needed water was satisfied,” added John as he stepped into the shower.

“Which do you think it is?” asked Jenna.

“I think the first,” said John, and he quickly brought Jenna up to speed on what happened since he left for the meeting. John mentioned dispatching the guards at the roadhouse, but he didn’t tell her how. The omission wasn’t because he thought she wasn’t ready to hear it, he just needed more time to think and digest what he learned.

Jenna was shocked and angry at Tony’s treachery, but she was greatly relieved to have John back. She sat on the vanity and asked, “What do you have planned for Tony?”

“Not sure just yet,” said John.

“I know you have vengeance on your mind, and I think it’s justified, but what will be the consequences of your vengeance . . . do you have a plan for the neighborhood when you take him out? I only ask because we’re getting ready to leave, so are you planning to leave the neighborhood in turmoil, or are you going to do something to help them rebound?” finished Jenna.

John knew Jenna was right. He couldn’t leave the neighborhood a mess, but his first order of business was disposing of the prisoners. Dealing with Tony was also high on his list, but the disposition of the neighborhood wasn’t. Tony had to answer for his treachery, and his theft. John very much wanted to storm over there and recover his weapons, but he knew Pete had a plan for Tony, so that meant he was number two on the priority list.

“John, did you hear me? What’s going to happen to the neighborhood when you . . . take out Tony?”

“I didn’t say anything about taking out Tony, only that he needs to answer for his crime. As for the neighborhood, I haven’t given it any thought, but I will now that you pointed it out to me. You’re right, Jenna, we can’t leave them hanging. But you know what, I’m thinking someone else will stand up, someone not as self-serving as Tony,” he said and turned off the shower. John reached for the towel Jenna held out for him and said, “I wonder if this was my last hot shower for a while?”