The Resolution (3 page)

Chapter Five: Fugate Road

Feeling something bump his foot, Evan was startled awake; he grabbed his rifle lying next to him.

“Whoa… throttle back, man. It’s just me. It’s your turn to stand watch,” Jason said, holding his hands in the air in jest.

Regaining a grasp of his surroundings, Evan said, “Sorry, man. My nerves are getting shot. A man can act as calm and collected as he wants on the outside, but if this stuff doesn’t get to him on the inside after a while, something is wrong.”

“Yeah, this world is only fitting for a psychopath or a scoundrel,” replied Jason. “I feel the same way. Every time I hear so much as a twig snap, I flinch and expect all hell to break loose.”

“What time is it?”

“Four o’clock. Just wake me when the sun goes down.”

“Damn, man, you should have got me up to relieve you sooner.”

“Nah, man; you were sleeping well. Besides, I probably can’t sleep, anyway. I can’t stop worrying about Charlie and Jimmy, Ed and Nate, and the folks back home. We don’t know anything about anyone but ourselves at this point, and that’s not okay.”

Standing to stretch, Evan yawned and said, “Well, give it a try at least. I’ll wake you at sunset if nothing comes up between now and then.”

Jason begrudgingly complied as Evan used a Sterno can and a stainless camping mug to warm a cup of instant coffee given to them by the Blue Ridge Militia.
Thank you, Quentin,
he thought as he smelled the aroma of the coffee as it began to heat.

The next few hours were uneventful, yet time felt as if it stood still; like Jason, Evan was anxious to get home. He felt responsible for whatever situations their friends and family might be in, as he was the one who led them away on the supply run to Hot Springs. He was haunted by the unknown, fearing the worst, but hoping for the best.
If nothing else, at least we were able to help Sabrina and the Gibbs family. But at what cost?
He asked himself.
Please, God. Let it be worth it. Let everyone be okay. Please let our families and friends be safe.

As a tear rolled down his cheek, Evan’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an ATV approaching at a rapid pace. Looking toward the direction of the sound, he saw a four-wheel drive utility ATV barreling down the railroad tracks, heading away from Del Rio. Clenching his AK74, he expected a pursuer to appear at any moment.

              The rider was clearly throwing caution to the wind as he blasted down the tracks at full speed. Hearing rustling behind him, Evan turned to see Jason joining him.

“What’s going on?” Jason asked.

“Not sure yet. Just a man on a quad in a hurry to get somewhere. He looked like he was coming from Del Rio. He was on the tracks going as fast as he could with no concerns of stealth.”

“A lookout, perhaps, on his own personal Paul Revere ride?”

“Hmmm, could be. Off to warn the Blue Ridge Militia about the patrol into Del Rio, maybe?”

“Let’s hope that’s all it is…”

After a few moments of silence passed with no further activity, Jason said, “Damn, it’s only six-thirty?”

“Yep. Let’s get something to eat, saddle up the horses, then work our way back down to the tracks. It’ll be getting dark by then. Then we’ll get on the move.”

“Roger that,” Jason replied. “What’s for dinner?”

“I’ve got dibs on the spaghetti with meat sauce MRE.”

“You bastard. I wanted that one.”

“Oh, you can have it then. It really doesn’t matter to me. I was just kiddin’ around,” Evan said, as he chuckled at Jason.

“Nah, man, you called it. That’s how it works. I was just bustin’ your chops.”

~~~~

After they had eaten, Evan and Jason saddled up their horses and led them back through the thick brush down to the road. Before stepping out into plain view, they listened carefully for a few moments. Being unable to see or hear any potential threats, they led their horses by the reins across the road and down to the railroad tracks.

Evan looked up at the sky and noted the bright, moonlit night. “At least we won’t have to turn the headlights on.”

“Ha… yeah,” replied Jason with a chuckle. “Your jokes get worse and worse as time goes on.”

“Probably because there is less and less to laugh about,” Evan replied as he mounted his horse. “Besides, a good comedian draws from his audience, and you’re all I’ve got to work with.”

Replying with a crooked smile, Jason threw his leg over his horse, nudged him softly in the sides, and said, “I’ll take point,” as he passed Evan.

Evan allowed Jason to get about twenty-five yards ahead of him, then he nudged his horse and followed along. They had decided to keep a safe distance between them in the event they had to react to a roadblock or ambush; this would give the second man a chance to return fire and engage the threat from a different position. It would also allow the opportunity to provide cover for the other to facilitate an escape.

Passing under the bridge, they began to follow the tracks along the edge of the river. They took it slow, allowing their horses to navigate the large gravel and the railroad crossties. The railroad tracks were less than ideal for a horse, but it gave them a direct path and kept them off the road and out of direct view, while making reasonable time. The moon allowed ample light for the horses, making traversing the rugged railroad at night possible for Evan and Jason, who were relatively inexperienced riders.

Reaching the point where the railroad tracks merged with Fugate Road, Jason brought his horse to a stop and gave Evan the signal to join up with him. Arriving at Jason’s side, Evan asked, “What’s up?”

“From here on out, the road and the tracks pretty much run parallel to each other the rest of the way to Del Rio. We might as well stay on the road from here on in. We’ll make better time and it’s easier on the horses.”

“Not to mention, easier on the horses means easier on my back.”

“Damn, Ev, you’re fallin’ apart on me.”

“I swear, I feel like I’ve aged ten years in the past one year,” Evan said, twisting his torso to stretch his tight and achy back.

“You probably have. Not to mention you’ve had to work awfully hard to keep up with me.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Evan said with a chuckle. “How much further?”

“Ten miles or so.”

“That means we’re passing through Del Rio in the middle of the night. We’ve gotta go right past the church to get up in the hills to the Homefront. I think we should take the few extra minutes to stop and check in with Pastor Wallace. I hate to wake him, but slipping in at night may be the best way to not bring attention to ourselves, considering the patrol that came through earlier. We don’t want to contact him by radio and give them a bearing on us with DF equipment,” explained Evan.

“Agreed. It’s probably not a good idea to bump into a UN patrol while carrying Russian-issued AK-74 service rifles just like theirs. We’ve already gotten into enough trouble being caught with stolen guns.”

“These aren’t stolen. They’re battlefield pickups. That’s a legitimate practice as old as war itself,” Evan said jokingly.

“Yeah, let’s just remind them that we killed their buddies back at the farm. That’s probably what they are patrolling all the way out here for, anyway. Looking for evil, right-wing insurgents like us.”

“Well, lead on then, brother. All this chattin’ is gettin’ us nowhere.”

“Yep, let’s get on with it,” Jason said as he nudged his horse back into action.

After a few more miles, with Jason taking the lead, they came around a corner as the road veered to the left and saw two Humvees parked in the front yard of an old farmhouse. Jason gave Evan the signal to halt and then led his horse off the side of the road and into the brush and small trees following along the left-hand side of the road. With the river and railroad tracks off to the right and nowhere to take cover, their options were limited. He then signaled for Evan to join up with him at his position.

Evan slowly crept his horse up alongside Jason, and with a whisper, he asked, “What’s up?” Then he saw the Humvees. “Oh… Shit.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Jason replied. “We can’t just ride right through here on the road or the tracks if they are UN. I can’t see any markings from here. Let’s backtrack to the last side road on the left and find a place to ditch the horses while we take a better look and put a plan together on how to get around. We can’t risk one of the horses making a noise up close.”

“Good call,” agreed Evan as he pulled on his horse’s reins, turning its head to go back the way they came.

Approaching the road, Evan looked back at Jason and signaled for him to follow. About a hundred yards up the road, he dismounted and led his horse behind some trees, tying its reins to a large branch. Jason joined him and hitched his horse in the same fashion.

“How’s your feet?” Jason asked.

“Could be better, could be worse. The extra gauze is padding the stitches pretty well. Luckily, I didn’t have any lacerations on the balls of my feet; they’re mostly on the heels and arches, so I can adjust my weight if it begins to give me problems. I would just prefer not to run.”

“We’ll take it slow to the farmhouse, then. You lead, so if they start giving you trouble, you’ll set the pace.”

“Roger that,” Evan said as he slung his AK-74 over his shoulder. He double-checked that there was a round in the chamber and that the magazine was fully seated. He checked his Glock in the same manner, then said, “Let’s go.”

Replying with a nod, Jason took up the rear position as Evan led them through the trees and across one of the farmer’s fields towards the house. Between them and the house was another tree-and-fence line separating the two fields. Evan planned on using the tree line as an observation point to assess the threat from a safe distance.

Wading through the knee-high field grass toward the tree line, the night’s dew collected on their pants and boots, with wet seeding grass clinging to them like fleas on a dog. Annoyed at first, Evan thought,
On the bright side, we can drop to the prone position and disappear out here if need be.

As Evan arrived at the tree line, he motioned for Jason to take a knee and wait. Scanning the area and determining that it was safe to advance, he signaled to Jason to join him at the tree line.

Slipping quietly beside him, Jason asked, “So, what do we have?”

“I’ve not seen any movement outside of the—”

A loud scream and the slam of the rear screen door of the house interrupted Evan’s statement. They watched as a man was dragged into the backyard by two UN soldiers, with a third holding back a frantic woman who was trying to get to the man. Before Evan or Jason could comment to one another, one of the soldiers un-holstered his sidearm and, with a loud
POP
and a flash of light, executed the man. The woman instantly collapsed to her knees with a painful sob. Giving the woman no time to grieve for her husband, the soldiers dragged her back inside the house, her body limp, with no will to continue fighting their aggression.

“Damn it to hell! What the… Shit!” Evan exclaimed quietly.

“What the hell, man?” asked Jason.

“Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!” Evan repeated under his breath.

“Plan?” asked Jason smartly.

“We are clearly not in a position to just assault the place. Two battered and bruised homesteaders versus two Humvees full of commie bastards.”

“How do you know the Humvees were full? Two guys could be in one and the third guy may have been solo.”

“Possible, but doubtful,” Evan replied. “They probably wouldn't have brought two vehicles with only three men. That would leave the second Humvee defenseless in the event they came under attack while on the move. There is probably a minimum of two per truck, but we’d be smart to assume more.”

“Agreed,” Jason replied.

“We’ve gotta get them outside. We can’t just assault the house. How would we avoid hitting innocents?”

“Why do we keep getting mixed up in something every time we turn around? We’re supposed to be on our way home, and here we are, planning another altercation.”

“You couldn’t live with yourself if you turned a blind eye to injustice, and neither could I. I guess that means we are just gonna keep getting into the middle of stuff until this world straightens itself out.”

“Oh, well… live by the sword, die by the sword, right? You’ve gotta go somehow and that sure as hell beats slipping and falling in the shower, I guess. So again, what’s the plan?”

“The first step of the plan is to try not to die by the sword tonight. The second… I dunno. We need to draw them out without alerting them to our presence. Ideas?” Evan asked.

“We could risk a horse.”

“Risk a horse doing what?”

“We could rig up some sort of makeshift noisemaker. A bell would be perfect, but in lieu of that, we could use our stainless camp mugs tied together, then hang them beneath the saddle from a strap underneath. We could lead the horse over here, then send it running in front of the house. Surely, they’d check out the rattling noise out front.”