Going Home (16 page)

“Mine’s got a Gortex bivvy. I’ll be okay.”

Jess came out of the darkness. She was surprisingly quiet. We all settled into our bags and established the watch order. Jess wanted to go first, and I would go last. We agreed to two-hour watches; that would leave my watch ending about five.

It was about three thirty in the morning when I heard coins beat against the inside of a can. The sky was clear and cold, and the sound carried easily through the swamp. I was startled by how loud it actually was. A muffled “Shit!” immediately followed, and then silence again. These guys were playing it right—give us enough time to wear ourselves out trying to stay awake waiting for them. Somehow I don’t think this was the first time they had pulled this little stunt. I made a mental note of that; our security was going to have to get a lot better.

Thad sat up; Jess was awake but lying very still in her bag. After a few moments of quiet, the sound of low voices came across the swamp. We couldn’t really tell what they were saying, but there were three or maybe four distinct voices. After a lively back and forth between them, one of them shouted out, “I know you’re out there! This ain’t over!”

Thad leaned over and in a low whisper said, “You think they’re gonna leave?”

“I hope so. If they stay, things are going to get complicated.” We lay in our bags in silence. Looking back across the swamp, we could still see our campfire; they must have stoked it up. I spent the rest of the early-morning hours watching the flames dance through the tangle of the swamp and listening to the sounds of low voices. The entire time, I was hoping they would just leave. We didn’t do anything to them; we helped them.
What in the hell is wrong with people?

“Guys, I’m scared. What are we going to do if they don’t leave?” Jess’s voice came out of the early-morning dark, putting into words the very thing we were all thinking.

“I don’t know. We’ll have to see what they do when it gets light,” I whispered back.

The eastern sky was beginning to lighten up, going from the blue black of night to the dark gray of morning. The coming of the morning has often brought relief to those caught out in the dark of night. This morning, however, brought no relief. In fact, it was quite the opposite. With the dawn, I feared, came the hunt. And we would be the prey.

As dawn came fully on, we started to make preparations to bug out. We quietly stored our sleep gear and prepped the bags. Jess pulled out some more granola bars. We sat and ate them in silence for a bit, and then she spoke up.

“You guys think we should try and sneak away?” she asked, following it with a drink from her water bottle.

“I don’t know. We don’t know for sure how many there are or how, an’ if, they’re armed. We don’t have weapons to make a stand. There’s just too much unknown,” I replied while looking through the swamp.

“I think we should just stay right here and wait ’em out. They don’t know where we are, which way we went. They ain’t gonna spend all day looking for us.” Thad voiced his opinion.

It was then we heard an engine on the road to the west of us; it was rough, but it was running. The sound passed us and then began to get louder again.

“It’s on the dirt road,” Thad said. The sound grew steadily louder, drawing closer to us. Now it was abreast of us on the little dirt track. The engine kept going, slowly, the sound fading as it went.

“They’re looking for us. Remember, Robert said that this dirt road came off 19 farther south and rejoins it behind us back there?” Now I was really getting worried.

“Yeah, Brenda said they walked down there. That’s where they smelled the food from.” It was Jess.

The guys on the other side of the swamp started making a little noise; it was obvious they were starting to look for us. I listened to them as they worked their way east along the swamp, the same way we came. They were shouting back and forth; others were on the western edge, along the road, from the sounds of it. If they kept coming east, they would round the bay and realize what was on the other side and may decide to take a look. To me, it would be obvious; there wasn’t anywhere else to go. To the east was just a huge stand of pines planted in rows with almost no underbrush. You could stand on one end and see almost all the way to the other. I started to come up with an idea.

“Thad, if they come around the end of the swamp down there, we’re going to have to ambush them here, if they make it this far.”

“I was thinking the same thing.” He was nodding back to me. “If they come down here, I’ll cut loose with this gauge. You’ll have to be ready to pick up whoever is left standing.”

“How many shells do you have for that thing?” I motioned to the shotty.

“I got twenty buckshot shells and six slugs. And this.” He reached under his coat and drew out a Glock 19.

I had an obvious look of surprise on my face. “I didn’t know you had that!” I never noticed it before; but then, on his frame, he could carry a Colt army revolver, and it wouldn’t show. “How much ammo do you have for it?”

“I have two full mags and a box of fifty,” he replied.

“Can you give some to Jess? She has a Taurus but only nine rounds.” This would make a difference, knowing she had a full mag.

“Yeah, of course.” He reached into his pack and pulled out a box of Remington FMJ, handing it to Jess. She dropped the mag from her pistol and started to top it off.

“You guys really think we’ll have to shoot our way out of here? I mean, shoot at people?” She was steadily stuffing rounds into the mag.

“I hope the hell not, but it may come to it. We didn’t do anything to them. Hell, we helped them, and this is how they thank us. Remember I said we can’t trust anyone?” I answered.

“Listen guys, here’s what I’m thinking. If they round the end of the swamp and come up here, we ambush whoever it is. Then you two jump and run to the south, to the other tree line. If there is anyone else, they will come to the sound of the shots and try and follow. I’ll be behind them. We can try and get them in a cross fire.” This was really off the cuff; I was thinking out loud more than anything else.

“I don’t like it, Morgan. I agree with the first part, but then you need to come with us. We all go. We stay together.” Thad really didn’t like the idea of us getting separated.

“I’m with Thad. We stay together, no matter what.” Jess sealed the deal.

“You’re right, I agree. Make sure you got all your stuff and be ready to move. Do you guys see that little palm right there?” I was pointing out to our front; it was about fifteen yards away. “From there to the little cherry tree is the kill zone. When they enter there, Thad you fire first. I’ll follow up. Jess, you wait. You’re the reserve.” With that we sat in silence, listening to the men hunting for us.

It was about seven thirty when I caught movement out to the east, first one and then two; Robert was the second one. They were working their way toward us, checking the pines to our front and the edge of the swamp we were lying in. They worked their way along the edge, getting closer to us with every step. They stopped just shy of the palm tree marking the eastern edge of the kill zone. We clearly heard them talking.

“Come on, man, let’s go back. They’re gone, dude.” It was the other man.

“Where in the hell could they have gone? We were on the road last night. They didn’t come out that way. All they could have done was come out here,” Robert replied.

“We ain’t seen no tracks. If they went out here, they’re pretty damn good. I don’t think I want to fuck with ’em.” He was practically looking at me. “They’ll be more people. We’ll get what we need,” the other man said.

Robert was holding a lever-action 30-30. The other man didn’t have any visible weapon. They stood there for another couple of minutes, looking around.

“Come on, man, let’s get the hell out of here; go that way. I ain’t walking back around this swamp. When we get out to the dirt road, we’ll wait on the truck.” Robert turned and started to walk to the west; in less than a dozen paces, he passed the palm tree.

Thad looked over at me; I shook my head slowly. They were leaving; they gave up. Once they were gone, we could sneak away. But that was when Murphy made his appearance. In the center of the kill zone, directly in front of us, Robert put his arm out across the chest of the second man, stopping him in his tracks.

“Is that a boot print?” Robert still had his arm across the other man’s chest when Thad’s shotgun coughed fire and thunder.

The two barrels seemed to fire almost simultaneously but were separated by a fraction of a second—the shot tearing through the brush, kicking up a cloud of debris; leaves, dirt, and twigs went flying into the air. Both of the figures in front of us collapsed, one of them letting out a painful scream. Jess dropped her head and covered it with her hands.
Boom!

It felt like I was hit in the back of the head with a hammer. Fire, something was on fire and smelled awful. Dull thuds landed on my head, causing pain to shoot through my skull. Thad was gone. I couldn’t hear. I saw Jess’s face; she was screaming. There was a monster; it had to be a monster. No man could make the sound that fought through the fog in my head to my ears. Popping, lots of popping; the monster was bellowing, thunder, screams, more thunder. Time seemed to have slowed; it was surreal.

I couldn’t see well. Reaching up to my face, my glasses were gone. I struggled to my feet. Someone was pulling on me. I saw Jess’s face. She was still screaming. She had me by my left arm, and the poncho was waded up in the other; she was dragging me along. I had the XD in my right hand and was dragging my pack with the other while Jess pulled me along. Coming out of the swamp, two bodies were lying on the pine needles, covered in blood and gore.

From the dirt track in front of us, a truck crashed into the pines, heading right for us. I raised my pistol and fired. I had no kind of sight picture; the shot went wild. Jess slapped my arm down as the truck skidded to a stop in front of us. The windshield had several bullet holes. Thad stepped from the truck; his mouth was moving, but all I heard was a muffled bellow. This was the monster, I thought fuzzily. He ran up and grabbed my pack. Jess pushed me around to the passenger side. Opening the door, she shoved me in and slammed the door behind her as she scrambled in. The truck slammed into reverse and tore through the trees, bouncing out onto the little dirt road, then swung around to the left and bounced hard over the bodies lying on the road. Thad slammed on the brakes, shifted into gear, and took off, slinging dirt as it lurched away, leaving two bodies in its wake behind us.

Jess was still screaming. Thad was yelling back.

“He’s bleeding …. shot … put pressure on his … around his head.” I couldn’t tell who said what. At the moment I didn’t care. My head was pounding, and the vague realization that I had been shot in the head came to me. I wasn’t afraid; I wasn’t anything.

I was jerked from sleep when little Ashley landed on my chest. “Wake up, Daddy, wake up!” I only wish I had that kind of energy! At seven years old, she was a ball of energy. She was bouncing up and down on my bed.

Mel rolled over. “You’re being summoned. Go.” She planted her palm on the center of my back and pushed. I planted my feet on the floor.

Ashley landed on my back. “Piggyback! Go, Daddy, go!”

The truck jerking roused me again. I couldn’t see out my right eye now. My head still throbbed; my right ear was on fire. It only lasted a minute, though.

I walked out into the kitchen, Ashley still on my back. “Pancakes, Daddy, I want pancakes!” Saturday mornings at my house usually worked a couple of ways; this was one of my favorites. “Can I crack the egg, Daddy? I want to stir it. Let me stir it!” I set a ten-inch skillet on the stove and turned the knob. With a whoosh, the blue flame jumped from around the edge of the pan.

Thad had his big hands around my head. We were stopped. Jess was crying. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Open his pack. Get his first-aid kit. Come on. Look, shit happens, get it? Hurry now, we can’t be here long.” Thad was moving my head from side to side.

“Morgan, can you hear me?” He lifted my face up. “Can you hear me?”

“Unnghh.” I tried to nod.

“Take it easy, man. I’m gonna wrap your head up, gonna have to cover your right eye, okay? It’s just a bandage, okay?” He was tearing open an Israeli bandage.

“Mkpph.” I tried to answer; it still sounded like I was at the bottom of a well. I caught sight of Jess. Her eyes were red and puffy, tears staining her face. My right eye got fuzzy and then dark. My head was laid back on the seat. We started to move again.

The sizzle of pancake mix hitting the skillet and the sound of the other girls moving around in the kitchen filled the house. Taylor was juicing some oranges; she loved orange juice. Lee Ann was making coffee. Sixteen years old, and she drank coffee like a crewman on a sub. “Who wants pancakes?” Little Ash was flipping pancakes; she loved to help cook.

5

Someone was pawing at my head again, moving it around. I tried to open my eyes.

“He’s lucky … came out here … stitches … clean and dry.” A thin white face was in front of me. A hat with a 101st Airborne Division patch sat on the head; it was perfectly pressed, as was the collared work shirt under it. “Lay down, son, take …”