Desperate Times (39 page)

They reached the back of Ken’s wall and gave
it a wide berth. They followed it around to Sally’s side of the
property. This was where they were going to need some luck. They
had to find the ladders that Bill and the others had used when
they’d scaled the wall. They were banking on them being where
they’d left them. Everything depended on that. Here, they hugged
the wall; moving quietly down the side, Jimmy following Jon’s
shadowy form. The camp was utterly silent; the night air, still.
The only sound Jimmy could hear was their muffled footsteps and the
pounding of his heart. Up ahead, loomed the top of Ken’s house.
There wasn’t a light to be seen.

Jon moved at a snail’s pace. If the ladders
were still there, they should be tripping over them soon. The
towering wall had created a dark shadow within the shadows, and
they were nearly blind as they followed it. Jimmy’s hands were
sweating and he tip-toed behind Jon. Suddenly, Jon stopped and held
his hand up. He had found the ladders.

Now, they had to wait; through the narrow
strip of pines they could just make out the tent village that had
sprouted up behind Sally’s lodge. This was also good. They had
hoped that the two groups hadn’t integrated inside Ken’s compound.
The pines offered just enough cover so they shouldn’t be seen
climbing the wall.

Jimmy and Jon stood with their backs against
the wall. Jon put a finger to his lips, but that was unnecessary.
Jon had driven this part into Jimmy’s head. There would be no
talking, not even a whisper. Their mission was dependent on
absolute silence. They had no idea how many men, if any, were
stationed along the wall. All they could hope was that the traitors
would all run to the front and return fire to the shoreline.

Jimmy worried about Cindy and Rita; they had
never fired a gun before. He was consoled by the fact that he’d
been that way not all that long ago. He thought of their new
friends who were risking their lives for complete strangers. They
were good people and Jimmy was glad to have them as part of their
team. The Petersons had insisted that they could both shoot. Mary
had snapped out of her sorrows as their plan began to take shape.
Gone were the tears and weepy demeanor, her expression had grown
cold and determined. Stanley seemed to feed off of that. Carl had
argued that he should accompany Jimmy and Jon inside the compound.
Jon wouldn’t allow it, arguing that he and Jimmy knew the layout
and that two men were enough. Jimmy discovered that he had a new
respect for Carl. He had seemed ready to storm the place on his
own, all to rescue Paula. It turned out that the Petersons were the
closest thing he had to a family.

Jimmy thought of Paula and Julie. Had they
been together all afternoon? He was pretty sure of it. He thought
they would want to keep their hostages together. What would they
have said to each other? Jimmy found that he didn’t want to think
about that.

He then began to think of Sister Margaret.
How had she been able to turn everyone against them in such a short
amount of time? Could they really all believe everything that she
was telling them? Jimmy didn’t think so. He was sure that some of
her followers had some questions of their own. They were following
the herd, but their herd was going to run out of oats, and soon.
Once they had their people safely out of the compound, they could
wait them out. Jimmy knew he’d been right about that. Their empty
stomachs would open their eyes. They would see Sister Margaret for
who she was. Bill might even be among the first to do so. As far as
Jimmy knew, Bill had never missed a meal. His belly would start
talking long before any of the others. Jimmy was sure of that.

Jimmy nearly jumped at the sound of the first
shot. It echoed through the trees and was immediately followed by
an explosion of others. Jon reached behind him and held Jimmy back.
They had to give them two minutes to try and draw everyone to the
front of the compound. Jimmy held his breath and began to pray. He
knew that he and Jon might both be dead the minute they climbed
over the wall. That was a risk they’d have to take.

After what seemed like an eternity, Jon
reached down and picked up the ladder. He carefully leaned it next
to the wall. The battle was raging now. There was shouting and the
constant sound of gunshots. Jon began to climb. Jimmy reached down
and leaned the other ladder next to Jon’s. He was going to have to
hand it up to Jon when he reached the top. Jon would set it down on
the other side and switch ladders at the top of the wall and climb
down. Jimmy would follow.

And then, if they weren’t shot, they’d storm
the house and find the others.

Empirical evidence fails to show that sexual
orientation is germane to any aspect of military effectiveness
including unit cohesion, morale, recruitment and retention.

Jon climbed to the top, turned his head from
side to side and heaved up on the aluminum ladder that Jimmy held
up to him. Quietly, he slid it over the other side and transferred
his weight to the other ladder. He then quickly descended the
rungs. Jimmy followed, gunfire ringing in his ears.

Jon waited at the bottom, holding his handgun
at the ready. When Jimmy reached the bottom rung, Jon sprinted
alongside the house. Jimmy followed; they paused at the wooden
steps leading up to the deck, ten feet from the front door that
opened into the porch. This was where they hoped to find the
others. Jimmy looked down at the wall. It seemed to be crawling
with shooters, all of them, firing wildly down toward the lake.
This was exactly what they had hoped for.

Jon sprinted up to the door and turned to
face him. He gave Jimmy an impatient look and waved him up. Jimmy
moved up the stairs as Jon slowly opened the door. Jon dashed
inside; Jimmy took a deep breath and followed.

“Down on the ground,” hissed Jon, pointing
his gun into a man’s face. The man dropped his gun and did as he’d
been told, spreading his arms.

Jimmy didn’t recognize the man, but he did
recognize the three faces sitting on the couch. Jon had been right;
they were all there. Jimmy heard a thud and returned his attention
to Jon. He’d just struck the stranger in the back of the head with
the butt of his gun. From the sound of the blow, the man was going
to be out for a very long time, thought Jimmy.

“Let’s go,” whispered Jimmy. “Move it!”

They didn’t have to be asked twice. All three
hostages moved quickly to the door.

“Not a word,” whispered Jon. “Not a word
until we’re safely back at the truck, okay?”

The three of them nodded.

Jon went out the door and held it open for
the others. He then quietly closed the door and met them at the
bottom of the stairs where they waited in the shadows. Once again,
Jon took the lead, running alongside the house. He paused at the
back and strained his eyes to see if anyone was waiting for them.
He waved for the others to follow.

Jimmy couldn’t believe their luck. They ran
to the wall, to where their ladder was still standing and waiting
for them. Paula was the first to climb the ladder, transferring
across to the other as if she’d trained for it. She was quickly out
of sight. Julie gave Jimmy a quick kiss on his cheek then she
scrambled up the ladder. She took a few precious seconds at the
top, balancing precariously before she grasped the other ladder and
swung her legs over the side.

Dr. Benson paused and waved Jimmy forward,
but Jimmy pointed at him firmly and then at the ladder. Wordlessly,
Dr. Benson began to climb and the aluminum ladder groaned under his
weight. Jimmy cringed, certain someone would hear them. He thought
this seemed too easy; something had to go wrong. Something always
seemed to go wrong. He watched Dr. Benson swing himself onto the
other ladder. This time the groan was more of an agonized scream as
the ladder’s capacity was seriously tested. Dr. Benson soon
disappeared behind the wall.

The gunfire from the front of the house
hadn’t let up. Jimmy could hear the crackling shots from rifles
mixed together with the booming reports of shotgun blasts. Jon
pointed to him.

Jimmy shook his head and pointed his finger
back at Jon.

“Halt!” screamed a woman’s voice. They were
suddenly bathed in the yellow beam of a flashlight. Jon shoved
Jimmy hard and Jimmy began to climb as fast as he could. Jon
followed and the ladder wobbled violently beneath their combined
weight.

“Stop!” screamed the woman. “Stop where you
are! I’ll shoot!”

Jimmy climbed over the top of the wall and
grabbed the other ladder. His hands were sweating and he slipped,
falling awkwardly between two logs. “
Oof!”
he grunted.
Somehow he’d become wedged in between the tops of the logs. Jon
pulled back on him with a savage tug. Jimmy cursed. The flashlight
beam illuminating their precarious position.

“Come on!” called Jon. “Move it!”

“Hey! There are two of them on the wall! I
need some help over here!”

Jimmy heaved up with all his strength and was
suddenly free. He gripped the other ladder and scrambled over the
top of the wall. He squinted in the darkness as beams of light
filtered out from behind the wall. The woman was now almost right
behind Jon. Jimmy screamed for Jon to climb.

“Freeze!” screamed the woman. Jimmy heard the
click of hardened steel.

“Jon!” Jimmy called, expelling all of the air
in his lungs.

Jon was at the top of the wall and Jimmy
could feel Jon’s weight transfer to the ladder he held.

Suddenly, two thunderous gunshots exploded
into the night air.

Jon was thrown violently forward. Jimmy
watched in horror as he seemed to catapult over the wall and
disappear into the blackness. Jon’s body fell with a heavy thud at
Jimmy’s feet.

“No!” Jimmy screamed. He quickly dropped to
his knees to check on Jon.

“Out of the way!” shouted Doc. “I’ve got
him!” He hefted Jon over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, as if
Jon weighed no more than a sack of potatoes. “We’ve got to move,
Jimmy!”

Jimmy nodded; they did have to move. He could
hear someone scaling the wall from the other side. He forced
himself to his feet and waved for the others to follow. Gunfire
exploded from behind them and bullets slapped into the earth. They
continued to run, staying close to the wall. Jimmy found his wind
and took the lead. They sprinted past the wall and into the
darkness of the woods. He stole a look behind him; the others
stayed close. Even Dr. Benson, carrying Jon, was keeping stride
with the rest of them. Jimmy slowed to a jog and continued at that
pace until he came across the ATV trail. He somehow found the
strength to run again. They had to get Jon to the truck. They
needed to find out how bad he’d been hit. Doc was going to need to
fix him up with the supplies from the truck, if Jon was even alive,
Jimmy thought, miserably.

Jimmy pushed that out of his mind. He could
see the clearing up ahead and he continued to run. He reached the
clearing and turned toward the Mack without missing a step. His
lungs burned. He nearly tripped and fell in a deep rut, but he
regained his balance and continued to run. He reached the driver’s
door and flung it open. He hopped up into the driver’s seat and
found the headlight switch. He flipped it on and watched as the
others stopped at the front of the truck. Dr. Benson gently laid
Jon’s body down on the ground. Jimmy jumped out and jogged over to
join them.

Jimmy stood behind Dr. Benson as he examined
Jon. Jimmy realized that the gunfire had stopped. The others should
be back soon.

“Where’s he hit?” asked Jimmy,
breathlessly.

“I’m not sure…” said Doc, who was also trying
to catch his breath. He rolled Jon onto his stomach and Jimmy
wanted to cry. Jon’s back was covered in blood. “Oh my,” said Dr.
Benson. “This isn’t good. I’m going to need my kit. He’s been hit
at least twice. I’ve got to go back; his life depends on it.”

“We stopped at the hospital today!” said
Jimmy. “We grabbed a bunch of stuff. It’s all in the back of the
truck. What do you need?”

“Let’s see what you have. I don’t know,
Jimmy. This looks pretty bad.”

Jimmy and Doc ran around to the back of the
truck. Paula and Julie followed. Jon began to groan. Jimmy opened
the latch and heaved up on the door. He aimed the flashlight beam
inside and stood back to give Dr. Benson some room.

Dr. Benson began to tear into the boxes,
discarding them as he frantically searched through them. “This is
no good,” he said. “We don’t need this… no… Dear God, this is all
useless… Damn it!”

Jimmy groaned; surely they’d brought
something he could use, there was so much of it.

“There!” shouted Doc. “That’s what we need!”
He then reached up over the top of the boxes and removed a large
black satchel. “Now, let’s pray they didn’t hit any vital organs.
If they did, there’s not much hope. I’m sorry—there’s only so much
I can do outside of an operating room. Okay, let’s go!”

Dr. Benson set the bag down next to Jon and
opened it up. He produced a bottle of alcohol. He opened the bottle
and splashed the strong-smelling liquid into his hands, he scrubbed
them together, vigorously. Satisfied, he handed the bottle to
Jimmy. “Everyone, do the same. I’m going to need your help. Go easy
on that stuff; we’re going to need it later.”