Officer Of The Watch: Blackout Volume 1 (8 page)

"Oh, thank you, Jesus!" Imogene whispered, and she collapsed to her knees next to Bill.  She began lightly stroking Bill's hair with one hand and squeezing his right hand with her other, whispering to him the whole time.  The rest of the group stood and walked a few steps away to give her some privacy.

"Could you tell what happened in there?" Claire asked.

Eric shook his head.  "Not really," he replied.  "There's a dead guy in a janitor's closet.  It looks like he came out and took at least one shot at Bill, maybe two.  Bill got him square in the chest with his .357, though, and that put an end to it."

Mike turned his head and cursed hard.  "We never cleared the building," he growled after a profanity-laced moment.  "I can't believe I did that.  I know better than that.  I make one lame-brained mistake and Bill gets--"

Claire reached up and squeezed Mike's shoulder.  "You didn't know anyone was in there.  Don't beat yourself up about it now."

Mike nodded, but his face was still twisted in a grimace. 

"Look, there's something we need to consider," Eric said after a moment.  "Bill's going to need time to heal before we try to move him, or we risk opening that wound again.  Plus, the dressing's going to have to be changed five or six times a day to keep it from getting infected."

"He needs a doctor," Claire said.

"How do you suggest we get him to one?" Mike shot back.  "Even if we had a stretcher he could fit on, we couldn't carry him to the truck, much less lift him into it."

"So what are you saying?" Christina asked.

Eric took a heavy breath and let it out slowly.  "Looks like our little pit stop just turned into an extended stay."

Ch. 17

Special Delivery

Joe scraped the last bite out of his cold can of Franks-n-Beans.  He stuck his spoon in the empty can and leaned back with a wide, satisfied grin.  Chris and Henderson both watched him with confusion from opposite ends of the table; neither had taken more than a bite or two of their own dinner.

Tom and Jen were still too busy with each other to pay much attention to anything else.

"What was that about?" Chris asked suddenly breaking the silence.

Tom jumped as if someone had poked him, "What?" he asked, confused.

Joe jerked his head towards the door. "We'll give you two some privacy," he said, ushering the other two men out onto the porch.

Each of them had a side arm tucked behind their waistband and under their shirt, as well as at least one sturdy knife on them.  They left their rifles leaning against the inside wall, within arm’s reach of the slightly cracked front door. 

Chris and Henderson poked at their beans while Joe stared off at the sun as it sank towards the West. 

"My best friend for as long as I can remember was Frank," Joe said after a while.  "His dad was named Frank too, Frank Sr., but I never called him that.  It was Mr. Stewart for forever, and then Mr. Frank after that.  I used to work with them in the summers on their farm.  We ate Franks-n-Beans for lunch just about every day, and Mr.  Frank would always make a joke about it...Two Franks eatin their beans..."

Joe smiled and shook his head.  He was quiet for a moment, and when he looked back up at the red sun, his face was more serious.

"I haven't spoken to Frank in years," he said softly.  "Last I heard he was doing well in Texas...  owned a few physical therapy clinics and a house on some huge lake.  I always planned to fly down and see him but never could make the time."

Silence settled over the porch while Chris and Henderson picked at their cans for a while before setting them down.  The sun was sinking slowly, but visibly, and a cool breeze was starting to pick up.  Joe looked around but couldn't see anyone else out on their porch.  A few dogs barked in the distance, but there weren't any other sounds save for the wind and the birds. 

It was enough to make his skin itch.

"It's going to be dark soon," Chris said after a while.  "We still have a little way to go to get to Allyson and the baby.  We need to think about moving."

Joe nodded.  "I know, Chris," he said.  "We haven't forgotten about you.  I just wanted to give them some time.  Then maybe it'll go easier when it's time to roll out."

Chris nodded and opened his mouth to say something, but Henderson suddenly held up his hand and hissed an intense, "
Shhhh!
" at them both.  He moved to the far end of the porch and cupped his hands around one ear. 

"That's an up-armored Humvee," Chris whispered suddenly.  "It's faint, but it's getting close."

"I don't hear anything," Joe said, waving his hand at Henderson.  "Just the wind."

Chris was frowning, though, a look of intense concentration on his face.  After a few moments, he began nodding his head.  "Yeah, I think I'm hearing it too," he said, pointing down the main avenue to the south east.  "From back that way, right?"

Henderson nodded.  Both men turned and grabbed their empty cans and spoons.  Joe did a quick police of the porch to make sure there was no sign anyone had been outside, then the three men quickly stepped into the foyer and carefully closed the door.

"Tom, we have tangos in bound," Joe whispered.  "We gotta lock this place down."

Tom immediately stood and blew out the two glass hurricane lamps in the center of the dining room table.  He pulled Jen to her feet and led her into the kitchen.

"Jen, we have to get all of the lights out," Tom said as he blew out the other candles.  "They can't see anything in here, okay? Then we gotta go up and keep the children absolutely quiet and still."

"What is it?" Jen asked, confused.  "What's going on?"

"Someone is coming," Tom said, "and we don't know who it is; that's what has us on edge.  They have Humvee's, though, and they work.  I can't explain more right now, there's no time.  You have to trust me on this.  Go upstairs and get the kids into the back office closet and shut the door.  I'll be up in a little bit."

Jen nodded and bolted up the stairs.  Tom could hear her moving about on the second floor.  He grabbed his rifle from where it sat next to the stairs.  Joe nodded to him when he looked, and Tom sprinted up the stairs after his wife.  Joe heard him take a position halfway down the upstairs hallway. 

Joe, Chris, and Henderson quickly pulled all of the curtains closed on the windows along the back and sides of the house, and then pulled the ones along the front almost closed.  They each took their rifles and a position with a clear view of the street.

Joe could hear the faint rumble of the Humvee's now through the walls, and he looked at Henderson with an appreciative nod.  "How in the blue hell did you hear those?" Joe whispered.

Henderson smiled.  "When you spend as much time as I did running behind one with a drill instructor screaming at you, the sound kind of gets in your bones."

Joe nodded, and the three men checked through the curtains from in the shadows.  They could see out the window in narrow fields, but it would be very hard for someone outside in the fading light to see into the dark house.  Joe clicked the safety on his rifle off and heard the other two do the same.

"Tangos in sight," Chris whispered from the southeast end of the living room, and there was the muffled thump of a vehicle door slamming.  "Two Humvee's, gunners on each--holy shit."

Chris looked at Joe, his eyes wide, and whispered, "You're not gonna believe this."

Joe was about to ask what, but just then a man stepped into his field of vision, and he didn't have to.  There, in the fading sunset light, a man with a tactical uniform in dark blues and grays walked around to each mailbox in the cul-de-sac.  He opened each and stuck a single envelope inside.  The man had short dark hair, dark sunglasses, and a very high-end rifle. 

Joe took a deep breath, gritted his teeth, and muttered, "Parker..."

Ch. 18

Strangers In A Strange Land

Eric helped Bill sit up and lean his back against the Stop-n-Shop.  Bill's face was pale and had a shiny sheen of sweat over it, but his breathing was better and he was able to stay conscious for the most part.  Mike had given him two field syrettes of morphine to make the pain more manageable, and for a while Bill had been nearly incoherent from the drugs.

A makeshift sling held Bill's left arm securely across his chest and helped keep the bulky bandage in place over his shoulder.  Eric pulled the wrapping aside and checked the wound.  The sugar packed in the wound looked moist, but still solid enough to hold for a bit.  As it liquefied, the wound would seep and had to be cleaned out.  Then fresh dry sugar could be packed in and seal up the wound once more.  It had only been six hours, but already the wound was bleeding less with each dressing change and it seemed to be causing Bill less pain as well. 

Mike and Claire were setting up tents in a large grassy area between the gas station and a small strip mall with a few empty store fronts and for lease signs.  Christina helped as Imogene rummaged through their supplies and began setting aside food and water for dinner.  There was more inside the store, but none of them had been able to go back inside since Eric had grabbed the sugar to treat Bill's wound.

"Still attached?" Bill asked through clenched teeth.

Eric nodded.  "Yeah, for the time being.  How is it feeling?"

Bill snorted.  "Like I got shot," he growled.

"Stupid question, I guess," Eric said.  "Sorry." There was a brief silence as Eric tried in vain to think up a tactful way to ask his next question.  With a small shrug, he whispered, "What happened in there, Bill?"

Bill frowned.  "I've been thinking about that a lot," he said after a moment.  "And to tell you the truth, it's all kind of a blur.  I went in to grab the gas can.  I was bent over and I heard something behind me, so I looked over my shoulder to see what it was.  There was a guy standing there in a doorway with a gun on me.  I remember I tried to tell him not to be afraid, and I started to turn towards him.  Then his eyes got real big, and he shot.  The first one missed me, but not by much."  Bill shuddered.  "I turned towards him, and the second one caught me high in the left shoulder.  The next thing I remember, I was stumbling out into the sunlight, and then it seemed like a good time to lay down."

Eric nodded and said, "I saw the guy inside.  It looks like he was hiding in a janitor's closet.  I know it's tough, Bill, but that guy was dangerous.  He tried to kill you, and who knows what he'd have done to the rest of us."

Bill just shook his head slowly.  "I spent a long time tracking down bad people," he said after a moment, "and I got really good at it.  They come in all sizes, shapes, and colors too, you know.  Some of the worst of the worst that I ever saw looked like they should be working the counter at the corner drug store or the library at your neighborhood grade school.  After a while, you get to where you recognize it when you see it."  Bill pointed to the open doors of the convenience store.  "
He
wasn't a bad guy.  He was scared and backed into a corner, and people do crazy stuff when they don't think there's any way out but swinging."

Bill was quiet for a long moment, and Eric didn't know what to say, so he sat and studied the ground in front of him.  After a while, Bill nudged his foot, and said, "You know we're going to have to get him out of there, right? It ain't right to just leave him sittin in there to rot.  Besides, there's stuff in there we can use, like the gun he tried to shoot me with."

Eric nodded.  "Mike and I will take care of it.  I think Mike feels guilty for not clearing the building when we went in the first time, and to tell you the truth, so do I.  We should have checked the rooms in the back, Bill."

The ex-Texas Ranger waved his good hand.  "Forget that crap," he said dismissively.  "Who goes into a gas station and thinks about clearing threats? Hell, I was trained to check doors and I didn't."

Eric thought about that a moment before replying.  "I think we need to start thinking about that kind of thing, though," he said.  "Between this morning with Claire, and this afternoon with...  We're acting like everything is just like it was yesterday, and if we keep it up someone's going to get hurt."

Bill snorted again, and Eric shook his head.  "You know what I mean.  If that guy had been a better shot....well, I don't want someone else getting hurt or killed because we're too complacent."

Bill touched his left shoulder lightly before replying, "I know what you're saying, and you're right.  We've got to be more careful."

Eric nodded.  "I'll get Mike, and we'll take care of what's inside," He said.  "You rest."

Eric stood and motioned for Mike to follow him.  They both carried flashlights and they had their pistols drawn.  Mike went first into the store, and Eric followed him, keeping his eyes moving and checking the shadows all around them.  The late afternoon sun was slanting through the glass front of the store, and it cast long shadows in the aisles that made Eric jumpy. 

The two moved to the back of the store where the body lay.  They stood looking down at the deceased man for a long moment, neither really sure what to do next.  Eric had to swallow the taste of bile several times.

"Well," Mike said at last, "I don't think we'll be able to dig a grave with the camp shovel I have in my backpack outside.  So, what do you suggest?"

Eric shrugged slightly.  "I don't know, man.  There's a fire exit right there," Eric said, pointing to the back corner of the store a few feet away.  "We can drag him outside and at least cover him up."

Mike nodded, then looked back at Eric.  "Head or feet?" he asked.

It was the last straw.  Eric turned, lurched three steps into the dark bathroom, and emptied his stomach in the dark. 

After he collected himself, Eric helped Mike pull the dead body out the fire exit as carefully as they could.  If he hadn't already done it, Eric would have lost his lunch several times in the process.  Once outside, they laid the man out as neatly as possible.  Mike bent and began feeling the man's pockets, sticking his hands in them one by one.  Eric was about to object when Mike abruptly stood with a thin wallet in his hand.  He pulled out a driver's license and looked at it before handing it over to Eric.