Holding Their Own VII: Phoenix Star (34 page)

Jay’s nose was bleeding, a result of the airbag exploding into his face. The flow down his neck and chest was further enhanced by a long cut over one eyebrow.

For all of the violence associated with the wreck, he was in surprisingly good condition. The newer model Chevy had surrounded him in a virtual cocoon of airbags, shielding his body from significant injury.

Quickly recovering from the shock, he’d managed to open the door and crawl out. Some voice of survival told him the shooter would be coming to check on his victims, so Jay had staggered off, searching for a place to hide.

Like Bishop had reasoned before him, he identified
the relic 18-wheeler as the best possible cover and made for the rig. It took him a moment to rectify the odd sound as he half-stumbled behind the big truck – a baby was crying.

Despite the rage, shock and pain Jay was experiencing, the sight of Bishop’s pickup and the sound of the crying child made it all come together. He scurried for his new ride home.

He pulled the driver’s side door open, the interior illuminating with the dome light. There was the upset infant, the rest of the cab appearing empty. Not wanting to drive with a screaming kid next to him, Jay went around to the passenger side and proceeded to unhook Hunter’s restraints. Bishop’s voice stopped him cold.

“Leave my kid alone
, shitbag.”

Jay, partially obscured by the open door, snatched at the pistol in his belt. Before Bishop could react, the gun was pointed at Hunter’s head. “Back off!” Jay yelled, “Or I’ll kill your kid.”

Bishop’s brain went into analysis paralysis. He was twenty feet away, the red dot centered between his target’s eyes. There was no way he could miss, but would his victim’s neurons still command that finger to pull that trigger? He couldn’t take that chance.

“Walk away
, and I’ll let you live,” Bishop hissed.

“Bullshit. I ain’t going nowhere
, old man. I’m taking this pretty truck back with me. You move off, and I’ll leave your kid here. Fuck with me, and I’ll kill his noisy little ass and then pop you.”

“What about me?” Terri’s voice sounded from the back seat.

Jay jumped, startled by the presence. Bishop saw the gunman’s arm sway, just enough that he knew the weapon wasn’t pointed toward his son. He fired.

The dome light illuminated the cloud of red mist exploding from the back of
the skull. By the time the M4’s trigger had reset, the kinetic impact of Bishop’s bullet had pushed Jay’s head toward the sky. He fired again, and again, the hammer like blows punching Jay’s already-dead body over and back – away from Bishop’s family.

Bishop rushed up, kicking the pistol off into the weeds. It wasn’t really necessary, very little of the foe’s head remained intact.

His heart demanded he put eyes on Hunter, returning quickly to soothe the nearly hysterical child. Using a soft voice and gentle touch, the father calmed the baby - somewhat. Terri was his next priority.

Groggy, still sweating
, and nearly out of her mind, his wife was unharmed from the gunplay. “What’s going on?” she asked, unsure of what was reality. “I’ve been having horrible dreams.”

“It’s okay,” he reassured. “I’m taking you to a hospital. They’ll fix you right up.”

“Okay,” she replied and then closed her eyes.

Bishop wasted no time returning to the southbound interstate
and fretting over the fuel gauge.

The heater-warmed water seemed to placate Hunter’s needs. That, and a quick roadside diaper change had kept the lad reasonably happy. The baby’s eyelids had finally fallen shut when the headlights illuminated a highway sign indicating El Paso was 28 miles ahead.

In the past two hours, Terri hadn’t gotten any better, but appeared to be no worse. After Hunter’s bottom had been cleaned, Bishop had checked her pulse and temp, both seeming about the same as before. Her entire arm, from the elbow on down was twice its normal size. She had swallowed a couple of mouthfuls of water, but refused any food.

The idea of approaching another large town directed his concentration to the road ahead. He had bypassed Albuquerque via a loop that avoided the core of the city. New Mexico’s largest population center didn’t appear to have fared any better than the rest of North America given the limited view in his headlights.

Now El Paso loomed ahead
, and he had two primary problems. The first was negotiating the town itself. The incident with the Corvette was still fresh in his mind – a telling reminder that desperate people still existed. He would just have to drive and fight his way through whatever the Texas city threw at him. There was no other option.

The second issue was the military. During hi
s last visit, he’d encountered Army checkpoints and patrols, and he didn’t want to be arrested before even reaching the base. The MPs might take him into custody and just leave Terri and Hunter on their own. Even if he managed the front gate, there was no guarantee they would treat his wife. Again, he found himself in the frustrating position of having no option.

He exited I-10 and head
ed north along a wide surface road that led to Bliss’s front gate. He was a little taken aback that he didn’t see a soul, uniformed or not, after the GPS informed him that he was within one mile of the base.
Maybe it’s the late hour
, he thought.

He was driving without headlights, using the night vision to navigate the city streets. Four blocks from the base, he pulled over, relieved that he had made it this far.

He locked his rifle in the camper shell, his throat tightening when he realized it would probably be the last time he held the weapon – a tool that had served him so well. But marching up to the front gate at Bliss carrying a long gun wasn’t a great idea.

He replaced the comfortable rifle sling with a baby sling, configuring the unit to hold Hunter on his back. His son fussed as Bishop disturbed his sleep, moving the tiny body from car
carrier to papoose. With the tot secured, he then rousted Terri. “Time to get up. We’re here.”

“Where?” her sleepy voice inquired.

“The hospital…. sort of.”

“I can’t walk, Bishop. There’s no way.”

“I know. I’m going to carry you, but you need to help me as much as possible.”

“Okay… I’ll try.”

With his help, she managed to sit up. If it hadn’t been for the desperate circumstances, the effort to get his wife out of the truck would have been comical. Cradling her like a baby, he kicked the truck’s door closed and began the short hike to the front gate.

“I feel like we’re on our honeymoon
, and you’re carrying me across the threshold,” Terri mumbled.

The first two blocks were uneventful.
Rounding a corner, Bishop paused, puzzled by the scene in front of him. There were lots of people in front of the base, most milling about or clustered in small groups here and there.

For a moment
, he thought he had stumbled into a protest or riot, but that fear quickly faded. The crowd ahead was calm… almost happy. Sounds of casual conversation and merriment drifted down the street – hardly the background noise of an angry mob.

He continued, ready to reach for the pistol on his belt and wondering how pissed Terri would be if he had to drop her in order to fight. As he got closer, he noticed there were soldiers mixed in with the throng of civilians. There were even people eating food! What the hell was going on at Fort Bliss?

A few people looked up when they noticed him, the sight of a man carrying a mature woman and a baby a little out of place. He approached the front gate and shouted to the two men resting on the wall of a sand-bagged guard post.

“My wife has been bitten by a rattlesnake and is dying. I need help, please.”

The two enlisted men looked up, one of them grabbing an M16 and sauntering over. “I’m sorry sir, but we are unable to provide medical care for civilians.”

“Is General Westfield still in command at this base?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Call him. Tell him Bishop is at the front gate. Tell him Terri is dying.”

The guard recognized the names. He couldn’t put a finger on it immediately, but something in the man’s tone told him this wasn’t any sort of trick or game.

Bishop fully expected the
soldier to raise his weapon and take him into custody. Instead the private nodded and returned to his position.
Maybe I’m not as notorious as I thought
, Bishop reasoned.
That will change quickly once Westfield finds out.

The arrival of the Alliance convoy and resulting celebration, speeches and introductions had occurred without incident. Thousands of civilians had lined the approach to the base, waving and cheering as the convoy had rolled past.

Her military consultant had helped
Diana plan the event after the Alliance leader had made it clear that the new agreement was for the people of El Paso as much as for the soldiers at Fort Bliss.

One truck had been designated to stop outside the base, a group of militiamen controlling the crowd and handing out food and flyers announcing the agreement.

A similar festival had occurred as the trucks entered the actual base. Thousands of military men and their families had lined the streets, clapping and cheering as the trucks rolled past. A review stand had been erected on the parade grounds, the attending dignitaries all giving short speeches under the generator-powered lights.

The excitement and tension of it all led to an exhausted Nick and Diana. General Westfield had invited them back to his office for a final toast before the Alliance leaders were to be escorted to the guest quarters. Everyone was tired, but pleased with the day’s outcome.

Nick pulled back Diana’s chair as the general excused himself to retrieve some shot glasses and a bottle of his best.

Realizing they were alone, Nick reached over and touched Diana’s arm. “Do you remember that question I had… back in Alpha before we left?”

She frowned, then nodded, “Yeah. What’s up?”

Nick inhaled deeply as if nervous, a rare display from the big man. He opened his mouth to speak just as the phone on the general’s desk sounded with an
obnoxious buzz.

The polite major at the reception desk answered the annoying device.
“General Westfield’s office, Major Dunn speaking,” Nick heard, half-listening through the still open door.

“Please repeat those names agai
n, Sergeant.” Something in the major’s tone raised Nick’s level of curiosity. 

“Bishop and Terri?” the m
ajor repeated into the phone. “And he’s just standing outside the front gate holding a woman and a baby?”

Before the front gate
could answer the question, the major glanced up to the vision of a very intense Nick standing over him. Diana wasn’t far behind, arriving just as General Westfield returned.

The major
covered the phone, turning to his superior. “Sir, the front gate is reporting a man carrying a sick woman and a baby. He asked the sentry to call you personally. He claims to be Bishop, the woman is supposedly dying from a snake bite.”

Before the g
eneral could say a word, Nick and Diana were moving for the front door.