Home Fires Burning (Walking in the Rain Book 2) (6 page)

Then she continued, giving me a short but thorough physical examination, marking the results down on a handwritten chart but offering no further comments until she finished.  As expected, she pulled no punches.

“Luke, you are in dreadful physical condition.  You are thirty pounds underweight, malnourished, and borderline anemic.  I couldn’t tell before because you insist on wearing those layered shirts and the bulk hides your condition. 

“The reason that bruising on your chest is so severe is due to the almost complete lack of body fat under your skin.  Son, you really are skin and bones.  Is Amy in this bad of shape?”  The words seemed accusing, like I’d done a poor job of taking care of my partner.

“I don’t know.  I don’t see her with her clothes off,” I mumbled.

“But aren’t you two…never mind.  Please have her come to see me when we are done.  For now, I am going to get with Hazel and get you on a feeding schedule.  You are not to engage in any strenuous activity for at least a month and I want you to go lay down for the rest of the day.  You got me?”

I nodded, letting a tight grin split my face.  I knew Cass meant well but her orders really didn’t work in the current environment.

“I won’t be hauling hay anytime soon, right?  But I can sit in a watch station just as easy as laying in bed, and this farm can’t spare the manpower to coddle me.  I appreciate your concern, and I will take it easy, but right now I need to go check in with my boss.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

“You don’t really need to go,” Darwin Keller repeated, his weathered features turned red in real distress.  Once again I was seated in the Keller study, but this time the group gathered was much smaller.  This was a counsel of war. 

Nearly twenty four hours had passed since the shooting incident and the Keller family was still a little freaked out.  The man who shot me, Murray (I still don’t know if that is a first or last name), was on day two of a three day scouting mission aimed specifically at this farm.  Though I didn’t participate in the interrogation, I learned a good deal of second hand information.  For one thing, my shooting had been in error, a panicked response when the sniper mistakenly thought I’d spotted his hide.  I didn’t ask about Murray’s current whereabouts and nobody volunteered.

“Yes, sir.  I’ve had a whole day to heal up, and I just listened to the same report as you.  Murray claims seven men in the camp, with three ‘guests’.  I have to go.”

“But you’re still injured, son, and there’s others that can go in your place.”

I listened and tried not to frown.  Word was, Darwin hadn’t been too hot on me joining the security rotation to begin with, though not for the same reason as his brother, Gary.  Darwin felt I was too young while Gary thought I was a thief and a liar. 

“Mr. Keller, I’ll be fine.  The meds Cass gave me are working and I am already feeling better.  And I hate to say it, but you will need me out there.”

“Have you seen the movie with Jack Nicholson, Luke?  ‘You want me on that wall.  You need me on that wall.’” Nick quoted in his worst Nicholson imitation.  I could tell he was trying to cut the tension, so I went along with the gag.

“No, sir.  Jack’s okay but not a big fan of Tom Cruise.  He’s just too much of a pretty boy.  I did see that alien invasion movie he did, though.  He’s still in good shape for an old guy.”

That got a laugh from the room, as intended, and the mood seemed to shift.  Scott Keller, Darwin’s baby brother and a quiet, taciturn man in his mid-forties finally spoke up.  Though he was a Keller and showed up at the farm with his eight year old daughter Isabella, he chose to sleep in the barracks with us singles.  His daughter shared a bed with Mark’s nine year old, Maya.

“Luke, no offense but we’ve been hunting in these woods our whole life.  In fact, I’ve been to that area down by the creek when I was working for the paper mill.  Why do you feel like you need to go scout for us?”

Scott spoke in a matter-of –fact, neutral tone that I worked to master for myself.

“Yes, sir.  You know the area, and I will follow along happy for your guidance.  But, when we get there, you know they will have at least one guard on duty?”

“Of course.”

“Well, no offense, but has anybody else in this room ever had to kill a man in broad daylight with a knife and make the body disappear?  Without making too much noise?”

“Seriously?” Mark asked, more surprised than disbelieving.

I nodded, and then waited a beat before continuing.

“It’s not like what they show in the movies.  Just slitting a man’s throat, without using a gag, means the guy’s going to make a lot of noise before he dies.  Mostly gurgles and hissing, but I learned better to…”

I stopped.  Glancing around at the wide eyed stares I was getting, I just shrugged.

“Anyway, I’m not an expert at the job, but I’ve done it often enough to get the hang of it.  Remember, most of the time I was out there, all I carried was a knife or a pistol and knife.  When you are outnumbered and outgunned, you learn to play dirty.”

“No kidding,” Scott deadpanned, “the DIs demonstrated the proper way to take out a sentry in Basic, but I’ve never known anybody who had to use that type of training.  I agree we may need that skill set.”

“Agreed.  So, me, Mark, Scott and Luke.  Four man team works for me.”  Nick said, and the three of us nodded.  Scott, despite being ten years older, deferred to his nephew Nick in the family’s security force.  Nick’s training was more recent, and he had been a squad leader in an infantry outfit before going over to the combat engineer slot. 

Scott had been a Marine, but as an aircraft frame mechanic, while Mark had been a driver and loader on the M1 Abrams tank during his six years in the Army.  When I asked about the length of his first enlistment, he explained what Stop-Loss was, and how he’d been kept on active duty an extra two years.  I’d heard the term and still thought it was a stupid idea.

Bruce started to volunteer as well, but Darwin shook his head.  Bruce was game and fit enough, but he was Darwin’s age or older.  Plus, we needed him here, as Nick explained.

“Bruce, if they get around us, I want you running the defenses here.  We will be out of radio range for the hand helds, and no offense dad, but I would feel better if somebody with some experience was holding the line.  We’ll hit the camp if they are still there, and ambush the raiders if they are on their way, but God forbid we miss them in the woods.”

“If you’re that worried, why go?  Just stay here.  When their man goes missing, won’t they just steer clear of us?”  Darwin asked.

“No, Dad.  Nick is right.  We need to mount a spoiling attack, and do it away from here if we can.  The four of us can do this, and fighting raiders away from home is a much better option.”  Mark’s endorsement along with Scott’s earlier support meant the plan was approved, grudgingly.

As for me, I kept my trap shut, saying nothing more as Nick’s plan received the Keller clan stamp of approval.  My previous experiences didn’t involve much in the way of teamwork, so I planned to listen and learn from these guys.

“Alright men,” Nick calmly announced,” we’re on short time here so let’s get geared up and meet at the garage.  Be there in thirty minutes.”

Everything I owned not already attached to my body was stored in my bunkhouse footlocker, so getting tooled up would be a breeze.  By prior agreement with Nick, I was going in with minimal pack and armed only with knives and pistols.  With my bruises, the CETME was staying home.  Of course, as soon as I stepped out of the study I found Amy waiting for me.

“You’re going back out with them, aren’t you?”

There was no accusation in her voice, just a sad acceptance.

“Yes.  They are going to need me out there.  The numbers aren’t bad but these raiders are a nasty bunch.  We can’t risk them hitting the house.”

As my words were spoken, I saw Amy’s head drop.  Then she raised her face and when she looked up I saw tears.  No sobbing, none of that mournful wailing, just the tears.

“I know you feel like you need to help.  That’s part of who you are.  I would say be careful, but that don’t track with what you have to do.  So kill them quick and then come home to me.”

She paused then continued, her voice going low so only I could hear her words.

“I know you think I’m too young, Luke.  But I won’t always be.”

She spoke that last sentence like a promise, and I felt my cheeks redden a bit.  I gathered her up into a hug and a kiss on her cheek.  Again, nothing inappropriate but I knew Amy would see it as the promise I was making.

“Someday, sweetheart, someday,” I replied.  “For now, I have to go kill some bad guys.  We all do our part and that means you as well.  I got chewed out yesterday by Dr. Cass for being a little underweight, so I want you to go see her today.”

I gave her cheek a slow caress and then released my hold on Amy Landon.  My girl now, as such things go.    

CHAPTER NINE

I never asked Nick how he got his prisoner to talk.  Willing as I was to use some not-so-gentle persuasion on the road bandits from Harrison, I didn’t care what methods he or Mark used.  Whatever the process, we did discover the directions were spot on.  We found the camp situated in an ugly sprawl right next to a gentle bend on the Saw Creek.  As for the rest of his story, well, my Daddy would say he lied like a ten term Congressman.

“That’s a lot more than seven,” Nick whispered, easing back into the brush next to me.

“I count fourteen, but I think there’s more,” I added, and looked to Mark for confirmation.

“I got fifteen, plus that poor bastard they are working over,” Mark replied through gritted teeth.  Mark was a solid looking guy in his late twenties, and he seemed to have gotten over his earlier suspicions about me.  Since he was close buddies with Stan, I figured the guy had shared a bit more about our brief adventures together.  For good or ill.  After getting a look at that camp, I wish we had Stan here to back us up with his Savage.

Scott, probably the best woodsman of the four of us, had volunteered to watch our back trail and allowed us to scout the ground behind the campsite.  He could move through the woods like smoke and I wanted to learn more from him if I had the chance.  After a few minutes comparing counts and identifying which of the tents likely held the prisoners, Scott came ghosting back to join us.  His face looked grim as he reported a body dump on the other side of the clearing.

“How are you feeling?” Nick asked me, and I could tell he didn’t want to hear the rah-rah bull, but really needed to know the truth.

“Sore, but not too bad.  I’m up for this.”

Really, my chest still ached every breath, and my arms no longer tingled but I worried about holding a steady aim.  Any killing I would need to do would have to be close up work.

Nick looked me in the eye for a long moment and sighed.

“Can you really do it?  Get in close enough and carry through?”

“Yeah, I can.  I’m really looking forward to killing these guys.”

As if to punctuate my statement, the poor fellow strapped down in the center of camp let loose another agonized cry.  We’d been on site for over two hours, and the animals who walked like men in that camp had been torturing him off and on throughout that time.  I tried not to look, but like a car wreck my eyes kept drifting back.  Apparently, someone there was trying to skin him alive using razor blades and cauterizing the wounds with a torch.  I shivered.

“Get going then.  Give us a squawk when you are in position, and we’ll start the party after five minutes.”

A sane leader might have aborted this operation when we saw how badly the numbers weighed against us, but I thought Nick had that little bit of crazy necessary to carry this off.  Maybe.  We had a plan, and a determination to stick to it.  All I had to do was extract the prisoners, if they were still alive, and move back out of range.  The heavy lifting fell on the other three men, and I decided right then to suspend my ‘three bandit’ bag limit for the duration.

Getting into position turned out to not be that difficult.  After making my way wide around the perimeter of the camp, I wormed through the thick underbrush at a steady, careful pace.  My paint spattered gray sweat shirt allowed me to blend into the summer foliage just as well as my three older companions in their digital camo outfits.  We’d discussed using Ghillie suits but the weight and heat forced us to reconsider.

The back of the tent in question butted up next to a large thorny bush, which some city dwelling raider must have thought would make a nice barrier.  Instead, it allowed me to crawl unseen on my belly right up to the nylon wall.  The space was tight, but doable.

We’d selected this tent based on the guard standing sentry outside.  That was a no-brainer.  Either I’d find the ‘guests’ Murray described inside, or maybe the leader of this wretched band of murderers.  When I cut the tiny slit in the tent wall and peeked inside, I knew this had to be the prisoners.  The smell gave away the truth.

The tent stank of unwashed bodies and bodily waste, like a backed up sewer.  Though the hazy light of the semi opaque tent panels, I saw three bundles in sleeping bags tied up and stacked close together in the cramped space.  Two smaller and one a bit larger, crammed into what was generously described as a two man tent.  I waited, watching the shapes, until I saw all three move a bit with the rise and fall of respiration.  So, prisoners instead of sack lunches.