The Broken and the Dead
Chapter 8: Day 8

It must have been 10 A.M or so when I pried my eyes open. I don’t know how someone could have as many nightmares in one night and not wake up but I did. I sat up, ground the sleep from my eyes and tried to figure out where I was. We were in the remote far corner of a huge parking lot and they had parked the two vehicles tail to tail at a 90 degree angle making a little protected area, at least on two sides. Someone had set a fire on the asphalt and everyone else was gathered around it, they all looked as depressed and lost as I felt. I opened the door and scooted out and I stretched my back and made a soft moaning sound that got the attention of the rest of the group.

I walked over to them and stood in one of the empty places around the fire. I almost asked where Mom was and then I remembered. Then I remembered Billy and Blue and Jackson and Cpl. Jones and the lady that I hadn’t even met yet. I started to tremble and a sob escaped from my lips. I stood there crying for a moment when I felt arms across my shoulders, it was Mrs. Driscol and she pulled me into a full hug. She whispered

“Go on Johnny, its okay, we all cry, we NEED to cry.”

I looked at her and saw the streaks on her face, the tell-tale trails of a mother’s grief. So I did and all the while Mrs. Driscol kept whispering things like how much Mom loved me, how proud she was of us kids. Eventually the new lady brought me a cup of something and I took it from her. It was some of that Chinese noodle soup you can get for a dime or so at the Mega-mart. I took a sip and Mrs. Driscol led me over to where someone had dragged a couple of shipping pallets and made a place for us to sit. Only then did I notice that everyone had them and that there were dozens more between the cars and the forest, providing both furniture and fuel.

Mrs. Driscol introduced me to the new people “This is Billy…” she began and then bit her fist in heartbreak, she choked back a sob then gathered herself and started again “This is Johnny,” She emphasized my name to make the point and I squeezed her around the waist to let her know that it was okay.

“Johnny Williams, he is the son of my best friend who died yesterday, he was my Billy’s best friend too.”

The new people muttered greetings and then Mrs. Driscol introduced the new ones;

“This is Miss Jane Clay” she said pointing to a lady that didn’t look much older than Elaine.

She was small and had unkempt mousy brown hair, her eyes were dark and it looked like she hadn’t sleep in a week, maybe she hadn’t.

“And these two are brother and sister, Kyle and Karen Morena, did I get that right?”

She asked the two children and they nodded affirmative. Kyle looked about 14, Karen was my age or maybe 13. Karen was cute but I hate to say it Kyle was like movie star good looking. Karen had reddish brown hair that was so curly it boarded on wiry but Kyle’s was blond and silky smooth. Karen’s teeth were a little crooked on the bottom but Kyle’s were perfectly straight, Karen’s skin was fair and she had a generous allotment of freckles that decorated both cheeks and the bridge of her nose, upon which a pair of wire frame glasses rested.

Kyle wore no glasses and his skin was blemish free and had a slight but healthy bronze to it. In spite of these differences there was no denying that they were brother and sibling, their bone structure was so similar that it was uncanny, the side effect was that Karen looked a little stocky and Kyle just a little effeminate. I greeted all three not know what else to say. Miss Clay then insisted that I call her Janey and that everyone did.

I said sure and then asked about the other woman who had died yesterday, she said they really didn’t know her, she had joined them only earlier in the day, the crazies had chased her into the gas station, but it was almost like they were playing with her, as if having one more inside to terrorize was more fun. All they knew about her was that her name had been Candice. I wanted to ask how the Morena’s had ended up there but decided a more private time was called for.

Lucy was sitting on Elaine’s lap and both of them were staring into the fire, neither of them acknowledged me and for a second I thought that Elaine was mad at me but when I walked over to her she reached up and pulled me into a hug with them. It was Lucy, she barely moved, her eyes, always so active and curious just stared at the fire as if I was not even there. I felt my heart break for her. I looked back to Mrs. Driscol

“Where is Old Man Tucker?” I asked.

“Mr. Tucker and the other new boy, Chad Norich have gone over to that warehouse to see what they can replace out.”

She pointed over at the enormous metal clad and nearly windowless building. I nodded to her and then started to look around, we had gotten used to Billy always walking guard but now no one was so I said that

“Guess I’ll just keep an eye out till they get back then.”

I finished my cup-o-soup and tossed the Styrofoam empty into the grass near the Humvee. I went back over to the SUV and picked up my M16 and checked it, about a half a magazine, then I checked for my M9 but couldn’t see it anywhere but my .22 revolver was in its holster and still had six rounds. Good enough I thought and started to just patrol around the edges, the huge empty lot to our front gave some comfort and plenty of warning so I put most of my attention on the other sides, into the trees where anyone or anything could be lurking.

Perhaps 20 minutes later I saw Old Man Tucker and the new guy walking back towards the make-shift camp, sticking to the edge of the lot even though it meant that they had to ‘Take the long way’ so to speak. When they got close Mrs. Driscol waved to him and he smiled a sad smile back. They headed towards the others and waved me over to the fire. We three arrived almost simultaneously. Old Man Tucker knelt by the fire and warmed his hands and spoke

“It looks like a shipping center for some tool or freight company, you know the kind that sells tools and hardware over the internet?” he looked around. “We didn’t see anyone inside and there was an employee parking area next to the building but that was empty too. But we didn’t call out, so there might be someone in there. There are lots of useful things in there but right now I think we should move on. I don’t think we can replace room or immediate use for a 600 pound drill press or a complete set of metric tap and dies”.

The new guy, Chad spoke up, “well, it seems to me it is a great place, seems secure, lots of room and like he said there are lots of useful tools.”

Chad was in his late teens or maybe 20 years old, he was tall and thin and had greasy black hair and there was an accent that I couldn’t quite place. I found out later he was from upstate New York so that explained that.

“That is an option.” Old Man Tucker said, “But there isn’t any food or water that I saw in there, not even a snack machine. Besides I have somewhere to go.”

Chad seemed angry for some reason,

“And just where is that Old Man? Can’t imagine anyone your age has a date.” He said with a sneer.

Old Man Tucker stood up slowly; he looked thinner, pale, and weak from his 3 days of illness. He paused for a moment and just stared at the boy, he stared so long Chad began to squirm a bit; I suppose that is what Old Man Tucker wanted.

“I have to go kill a man” he said.

I don’t know why it shocked me but it did after all we have gone through he still wanted to kill Mr. Franks. I looked over at Chad who half laughed and half started to talk back but he looked as if he had lost his nerve and whatever he was going to say was swallowed and lost forever. So, Old Man Tucker continued

“You can stay here if you like; we will even leave you a few weapons and a week of MREs.”

That was when Chad must have gotten his nerve back for he suddenly produced a Beretta from his jacket and pointed it at Old Man Tucker.

“Is that right Old Man?” Chad yelled as he rose to his feet. “May we will let you leave with a few MREs instead? Maybe the rest of us don’t want to go on your stupid mission.”

He waved his pistol back and forth in Old Man Tuckers face. I looked at Old Man Tucker, there was fury in his eyes and an expression that said he really didn’t care if he lived or died.

“Chad NO!!”

Janey called out to him and she started to get up but Chad stepped one step closer to her and slapped her with his left hand

“Stay out of this Janey”

He had taken his eyes off of Old Man Tucker and I was learning that is something you should never do. With a meaty right hand he grabbed the barrel and slide of the Beretta and pointed it to the sky, away from everyone, with his left hand, palm open he drove it fiercely into the back of Chad’s right elbow and Chad screamed and I heard a sickening popping sound and the pistol was suddenly in Old Man Tucker’s hand.

Chad dropped to his knees, cursing and crying that his arm was broken. Janey went to him and tried to comfort him but he just continued to cry and make threats against Old Man Tucker. Old Man Tucker didn’t say anything yet, instead he went to the back of the SUV and he shoved a handful of MREs into a spare gym bag. He walked back over to Chad and tossed the bag to the ground at his feet.

“Go on now.” was all he said but Mrs. Driscol left my side and went to Old Man Tucker.

“Please Mr. Tucker, he is just a boy he was scared that is all.”

Mr. Tuckers gaze didn’t leave the boy but he spoke softly to her

“Mrs. Driscol, that boy just pulled a gun on me and threatened me. What would you have me do?”

Mrs. Driscol stood her ground and defended her position,

“Stop this nonsense and fix his broken arm and we will all go together to the lodge.”

But Elaine said something too; she said

“Shoot him.”

Mrs. Driscol turned to her disbelief painted on her face.

“Elaine! You don’t mean that! What would your mother say?”

Elaine sat there with Lucy still on her lap,

“I do mean it, and my mother is dead.” she said.

Mrs. Driscol looked back to Old Man Tucker with fear in her eyes, silently pleading for Chad. Old Man Tucker took a deep breath and then said

“Mrs. Driscol, his arm isn’t broken, it probably isn’t even dislocated, I hit a pressure point, a pinched nerve is all. As for going with us that isn’t a good idea, he is going to want revenge.”

Mrs. Driscol started to say that wasn’t so but Chad’s own retort condemned him.

“Damn straight OId Man, your ass is mine!”

He barked so violently that spit flew from his lips and dribbled down his chin. Old Man Tucker rested his hand on the butt of the Colt on his right hand side then spoke softly but seriously to him

“Chad, I am not going to kill you in front of these kids unless you make me, so here is what is going to happen. One, you are going to stop making threats and cursing. Two, you are going to pick up that bag and walk over to the building. Three we are going to pack up and leave, I will leave your pistol and some extra ammunition for it on the asphalt here for you, and once we leave you can come and get it. Four, if I see you again I will kill you. Do you understand?”

He started to curse and complain but Janey jerked on his arm to get him to calm down. Mr. Tucker asked again

“Do..you..understand?”

He put emphasis on each word. Chad responded with

“Yeah, I understand.”

Mr. Tucker said “good” then stepped back from the fire but kept his eyes on Chad. Chad reached down with his ’broken’ arm and picked up the pack,

“Come on Janey, let’s go”

He started to walk away but Janey didn’t move she just looked at him.

“I said let’s go Janey” Chad reiterated.

“I’m going with them” Janey said.

Chad was furious

“You were with me…” he began but Janey cut him off in midsentence

“I thought we were all going to die and I” she paused for a moment.

“I needed someone.” she finished.

Chad stared at her in disbelief

“Needed someone, you needed someone? You whore!”

He screamed taking a step towards her but froze when the unmistakable sound of Old Man Tucker’s colt revolver being cocked.

“Don’t do it boy” Old Man Tucker said.

Chad was so mad I though he was going to explode but he just cursed once more at Janey and then said to Old Man Tucker

“I won’t forget this old man.”

He started to walk backwards towards the warehouse.

“Neither will I” was all Old Man Tucker said.

I stood there with the world swimming around me, it was all madness, and I could not get my mind around what was going on. Mom was dead, Dad was missing, Lucy wasn’t speaking and Elaine was unpredictable. I shook my head and looked at the ground; Mrs. Driscol stayed with me and rubbed my back. I couldn’t process what she was saying but she gave me comfort. When Chad finally reached the wall of the warehouse he thumped back against it and slowly slid down the wall. Old Man Tucker looked around at the rest of us and said

“Can we figure out what we have? I have been out of it for quite a while and am not too sure of what is going on.”

Mrs. Driscol said that we could do that and she asked Janey to inventory what was in the back of the Humvee and she would do the SUV. Mrs. Driscol asked Elaine to help her but my sister just ignored her. Old Man Tucker was exhausted and still weak and he was trying to keep an eye on Chad as he in turn just sat against the building glaring back at him. Mr. Tucker came over to me and asked me to keep guard for a minute and he walked over to his bag which was sitting on the ground near a stack of pallets. He rummaged around for a moment then walked back to me,

“John, can I see your revolver please?”

I looked at him, not sure what he wanted it for but I took it from my holster and handed it to him. He pulled a rod on the front of the gun and slipped the cylinder from the frame and replaced it with another one. He handed it back to me and said

“I saw you were running low on .22 and figured it was time to upgrade your gun. It now is a .22 mag, more power, and with a hollow point they will do some damage.”

He bent over and removed a few boxes of ammo and much to my surprise, Billy’s revolver.

“I think Billy would want you to have his gun and I have already swapped cylinders on it.”

He slid it into a holster and handed it to me. I looked at him and somehow had trouble reconciling this shy, thoughtful man with the cold hearted killer I have seen him be. I figured that he was only what he had to be and times are hard now, so he was hard. But Old Man Tucker was never mean just to be mean but he wouldn’t mess around either. I reached out and took Billy revolver and said

“Thank you Mr. Tucker.” He nodded and turned away. “I am going to make us all something to eat while the ladies are sorting things out.” As he did the image of him kneeling behind the S.U.V. kept playing over in my head. Something just would not add up.

We sat around the fire eating fried spam and potato chips. Mrs. Driscol and Janey had compiled a list; In addition to our medical kits we had half a dozen M-16s but only about 300 rounds for them. We had 7 Beretta M9s and almost 400 rounds for them. We had dozens of magazines so that wasn’t going to be an issue. We still had about 40 rounds for the Berthiers should things get desperate. We had Mr. Caulfield’s 10 gauge shotgun but only a dozen rounds for it. Elaine still had two full boxes for her Nagant and I had 150 rounds of .22 magnum. Elaine also had the AK-47 she had taken from the gun in the shopping center but only had what was in the clip for it, 18 rounds she said.

As far as ammo went the best we had was a full “sardine can”, 440 rounds of 7.62mm for the Moisan but we had only brought one of the three from Tuckers collection. We had 40 MREs and two boxes of miscellaneous canned goods; we had several boxes of high protein meal bars a case of mixed sodas and two cases of water. Of greatest concern was fuel. We had about a quarter tank in the Humvee and only two 5 gallons cans of diesel for it; the SUV was better off with almost ¾ of a tank but with no back up cans.

We dumped the diesel fuel into the Humvee and tied the empties to the roof of the SUV. Mr. Tucker and Mrs. Driscol got some things together and stacked them near the fire. There was a little medical kit, a dozen MREs, and 10 bottles of water and lastly one of the M9s with two full clips of 9mm for it. Old Man Tucker held it up for Chad to see, Chad responded by raising his middle finger. Old Man Tucker set the pistol on top and then turned to us and asked if we were ready. We all said that we were and Mrs. Driscol and Janey had picked out a route for us and she said that we should be at the lodge by nightfall. Mrs. Driscol, Janey, and the Moreno’s would ride in the SUV. Elaine, Lucy, and I would ride with Old Man Tucker. We all got in our assigned vehicles and I saw Janey, her arms crossed over her chest looking back at Chad, she gave him a little wiggly finger wave goodbye. Chad gave her the same gesture he had given Old Man Tucker.

The miles slipped by, I knew we were close after two detours that had added almost 400 miles to our journey, I wanted the trip to be over but I was worried about the confrontation between Mr. Franks and Old Man Tucker. I suspected that Mr. Tucker was not interested in negotiation. I was halfway dozing and Lucy was asleep in Elaine’s lap when I heard her speak very softly to Old Man Tucker.

“It was my fault” she said.

“What was?” Tucker asked.

“All of it, Mom, Billy, the soldiers, all of them died because of me.”

Mr. Tucker kept driving and all I could do was repeat in my mind

“It was my fault, it was my fault”, it was all I could do to not start crying. I felt as if I was going to be sick but I remained silent. After a few moments Old Man Tucker asked her

“Why was it your fault?”

A few more moments then in an icy voice Elaine said

“It was my idea to rescue the others; I thought we could do it, I wanted to save them I wanted to hurt the crazies, if I had said no then we wouldn’t have done it.”

Then her voice cracked and I knew she was on the verge of breaking down. Old Man Tucker waited until he was sure she was done speaking when he asked

“What do you mean ‘if you said no’, did you make the decision?”

Elaine just let her chin sag to her chest she whispered so quietly “we voted.”

There was another awkward pause the Old Man Tucker said

“I see, well, even if it were your idea, enough people voted to take the chance and you know what? If I had been awake I would have voted to try too so you can get that out of your mind Elaine, they all made a decision, we all make decisions, sometimes we are right and sometimes we are wrong. Sometimes we do things that we regret, things that burn a hole in our hearts and keep us from living.”

He took a deep breath, perhaps giving Elaine a chance to speak but she said nothing so he went on to say

“Sometimes we do things that are good, and brave and kind. Things that make us smile in spite of the pain of what may be happening.”

Still Elaine remained silent and so did Old Man Tucker for almost five minutes then he said

“Elaine, I don’t want you to tell the others, but after I killed the monster, your mother was still alive but she was in terrible pain, she was…”

Old Man Tucker’s voice trailed off and Elaine picked up where he left off.

“You shot her?”

I could hear the old man’s breathing it was ragged and I thought he was going to cry, he said in a voice so soft, so quiet I could not believe it was him:

“She asked me to”.

My head was spinning, my mouth was full of dust. He had killed her, Tucker had killed my mom. I thought my head would explode. I bit my lip in silence till I tasted blood.

There was silence again for several moments and I opened one eye just a little. I could see Elaine’s hand resting on Old Man Tucker’s shoulder. Elaine then said

“Mr. Tucker, I saw Mom’s face, she had a smile on it. I had been trying to understand that.”

Old Man Tucker said something that lives with me till today he said

“Everyone dies, everyone, and the greatest gift you can give is to die for those you love. It gives purpose and meaning to your life beyond all doubt. Your mother had just saved Lucy, she had saved me, and she was content.”

They didn’t talk after that, Elaine cried some more but it wasn’t the same, this was grief, this was loss but it was not the agony of the guilty. Elaine would survive this but I held my hurt, my sense of betrayal inside, I was unable to deal with Old Man Tuckers betrayal. I prayed silently for Elaine and for Lucy but even at the tender age of 12 I was beginning to doubt if anyone was listening.

Around two in the afternoon Mrs. Driscol pulled over to the side of the road and got out. She waited until Old Man Tucker pulled over behind her. We all got out, even Lucy who would not leave Elaine’s side. She was the one I was most worried about, she hadn’t spoken and it was her turn to show no emotion. I think that is what the army called ‘the 1,000 yard stare’. Old Man Tucker waited for Mrs. Driscol to speak and she waited until everyone was gathered around her.

“Okay, far as I can tell we are only about 10 miles out from the exit we need and from there only about 3 miles on the service road to the private road that leads to the lodge. So, now what?”

Mrs. Driscol asked. We all looked at Old Man Tucker, this was his show now, he was the one who made this bed, and not it was time to sleep in it. Old Man Tucker look a folded map from his back pocket and laid it out on the hood of the SUV.

“Been thinkin’ bout that Mrs. Driscol.” he began.

“Amy” she corrected.

“Right, well, look at this, there is a visitor center on the service road on the opposite side of the highway. We should go there, clear it if necessary, then you all wait there and I will go talk to the Franks.” he said.

“Kill them, you mean.” Elaine interjected in a cold and steady voice.

Old Man Tucker looked around at each of us,

“I won’t hurt Mrs. Franks unless I have to, but yes, I intend to kill him.”

Janey looked very uncomfortable but seemed as if she had to ask: “Did this Franks guy actually do something that deserves death?”

Old Man Tucker explained briefly Mr. Frank’s sins as he saw them, but in my mind what he had done was far worse, Old Man Tucker had killed my mother and I was going to make him pay for it.

“So what exactly do you have in mind?” Mrs. Driscol asked.

“I thought Elaine could drive me to the private road, she could stay in the SUV. If things go south she just takes off and comes back here, if it goes as I hope it does then I hump it back and send Elaine back to get everyone else.” Old Man Tucker said.

Mrs. Driscol looked unsure and Janey just tried to not make eye contact.

“Sounds okay to me” Elaine said.

That brought violent, if silent, objections from Lucy who started to sob and pull on Elaine’s arm. Elaine started to tell her that it would be okay or something like that when Old Man Tucker knelt down in front of her. I heard him ‘huff’ with the effort and both his knees cracked as he did it. He waited until Lucy looked at him and made eye contact. Slowly he raised his huge hand, his thick, scared fingers stretched out and with gentleness I didn’t think possible he carefully pulled Lucy’s hair back and tucked it behind her left ear. He carefully rested his palm against her cheek. In a voice nearly imperceptible he said

“Miss Lucy, you are absolutely correct, we cannot spare Elaine for this mission. We need her and you and Ronald Bear here, just to keep everyone safe. Isn’t that right?”

After a moment she nodded and he smiled a deep sad smile. He groaned as he stood up and arched his back. “Ouch…” he said. He took a deep breath and said

“How about this, Mrs. Driscol...”

“AMY.” she corrected again.

“Umm...Right, Mrs. Driscol. If you could please just give me a ride to that spot you could leave and come back right away. You could come back in say an hour, if I am standing in the road, all is good, otherwise, you just head back to the visitor center and yall take off.”

Mrs. Driscol seemed to be considering it when Old Man Tucker felt Lucy tugging on his sleeve.

“Hmmm? What is it sunshine?” he said.

She just tugged on it again so he leaned over so she could whisper in his ear. Suddenly, he started chuckling; he stood back up and said “really?” Lucy nodded then disappeared behind Elaine’s legs.

“What?” I asked getting tired of this whole process.

“She says we should just use the radios.” he was shaking his head and he asked “we have radios?”

Mrs. Driscol laughed and said “I’ll get them.”

She headed off to the SUV. I was seething. Those were the radios that Billy and I had used. Now HE was going to use them. Lucy’s arm snaked out from behind Elaine and she pinched Old Man Tucker. “Ow!” he said.

“Oh right, she also said that ‘yall’ is not a word.”

Satisfied, the delicate little arm disappeared behind Elaine with the rest of my little sister.

We were lucky because when we got to the visitor center it was unoccupied, albeit it had been raided and everything edible had been taken from the smashed vending machines. It was finally agreed that Janey would drive the SUV. I would go with her to ride shotgun and act as radio operator. I told Old Man Tucker the call signs Desert -1 and Rock-3, the Humvee and the SUV, Sky-2, the other SUV now useless on the side of the road at the scene of our disaster. I told him he would be OMT.

“OMT?” he asked. “Old Man Tucker” I spat, hoping to hurt his feelings but he laughed out loud.

“I love it. That is a great call sign for me John.”

I wasn’t buying it, all the good humor and acting all ‘nicey-nicey’ wasn’t going to save him. It took us a few minutes to get ready and get everyone else settled down for security. But if all else fails, they could just button up in the Humvee and hit the road. We could catch up with them with the radio. The one in the Humvee had a greater range than the little hand held units.

We rode in silence until we got to the private road on the other side of the highway. OMT, as I now thought of him, smiled at me but was only met with a stony gaze from me.

“Right then, keep your eyes out guys.” he said.

Janey nodded and held up the radio and he held up his in response. OMT then turned and jogged (at least that is what I think he thought he was doing) up the private road. We did a radio check with Desert-1 and found they could read us loud and clear. We decided that since it seemed quiet we would just pull the SUV off the road and into some high brush so we could better keep a watch over things.

Old Man Tucker moved into a row of Boxelder trees. Some were old growth and soared 70 or 80 feet high but the majority was new growth, more shrub than anything and they provided excellent cover for him. He moved slowly, a couple yards inside the brush. After about 15 minutes of steadily moving up a slow rise he could see a sprawling house. It was of log construction, but not vintage but rather one of those new prefab things with the factory cut logs. But what bothered OMT was the abundance of vehicles. In addition to the missing van, there were three others. One was an all-black Escalade, it sat high on huge, low profile tires mounted on polished chrome wheels. Another was a black Golf low-rider with multicolored flames painted across the grill and over the front fenders. The last was a silver Acura, this one also with very thin, low profile tires.

It crossed OMT’s mind that such tires might be ugly and far over-priced but at least they made a car ride like a brick. There was music coming from the house, it was a song by a rapper named he thought was named Lil Dip Shit, it might be music anyway, but he wasn’t sure. The tune it sounded juvenile and talentless but that didn’t bother him too much. What did bother him was Mr. Franks. He was naked and chained to a base of a flag pole in the center of a circle drive. Mr. Franks had been beaten severely and his head was covered in dried blood. He thought Franks was still alive but he wasn’t sure. He moved a few yards closer and then slid into a rain gully that was shrouded in shadows.

A few minutes later the front door was slammed open and the music offended Tuckers 1955 issue sensibilities even more. A black woman, perhaps in her late 20’s or early thirties dragged Mrs. Franks from the house by her hair; Mrs. Franks was wearing an oversized and blood stained ‘wife-beater’ shirt and nothing else, her ample backside and thick legs ,were pale and clearly bruised. She was screaming at her, OMT was not sure what she was saying. He couldn’t understand her vocabulary or her accent. Mrs. Franks was not screaming or resisting at all, she just took the abuse. Mrs. Franks was kicked in the back and she tumbled down the front steps. The black girl cursed her again and called her several names. A large black male, perhaps in his mid-thirties appeared at the door, he wasn’t wearing a shirt and his body was taut and well-muscled, he proudly displayed his iconic ‘six-pack abs’. He was laughing and he flicked a lit cigarette into the grass.

The girl stepped down the steps and dragged Mrs. Franks back to them, she stepped away and left Mrs. Franks to crawl half-way up the stairs on her own accord. The girl went up and stood next to the man who promptly unzipped his jeans and urinated on Mrs. Franks. This caused great hilarity from inside. It was clear that the invaders (as he was already thinking of them) were using threats against her husband to control Mrs. Franks. Tucker’s mind clicked in some deep seated, prejudicial way, his ’us vs them’ mentality was put into over-drive. They became somehow less than human to him; like the towel heads and camel-jockeys of the Gulf Wars, the gooks and slope heads of Viet Nam, the nips and krauts of World War II and probably just like in every other war ever fought. Soldiers who de-humanized their opposition, were not murderers in their own minds.

To Tucker, the images and music portrayed in the once popular ’gangsta’ culture, the crime shows on TV that showed everything in high contrast, the observed behaviors of two out of five people in the lodge, and his own unwillingness to see beyond his own pain and his own frame of reference, congealed into an over-simplified label: thug. A label without redeeming social value, a label that once worn, allowed him to kill without consideration or mercy. I don’t know why he pigeon-holed things like that, I don’t even know if he actually believed it, maybe somehow he had to do it in order to psychologically survive. All I know is that from that moment, the people in the hour were no more human to Tucker than the monsters that hunted us.

The laughing pair re-entered the house not even bothering to keep an eye on her. She crawled over to her husband and cradled his head in her lap, she spoke so quietly OMT couldn’t hear but he could imagine her trying to assuage his anguish both mental and physical. He lifted the Moisan sniper rifle and looked through the scope. He counted at least one other male and at least one other female in the house. The other male looked young, perhaps 19 and the girl about the same age. The male was boney, rail thin and short, wearing jeans so low that his red underwear was hanging out; the girl was exceptionally tall, perhaps 6’ 1”, and heavy as well, especially through the hips. She wore skin tight jeans with beads or something on them because they glittered in the light. She had a top on that revealed rolls of fat that drooped over her waist.

He was just about to back away when yet a third male exited the house, this one was older, perhaps in his early 40’s, was bald and while carrying a fair bit of extra weight he looked strong, he stormed down the stairs, slapped Mrs. Franks then dragged her by the throat up the stairs and into the house. He heard more laughter then he heard Mrs. Franks screaming. He lowered the scope and closed his eyes; he took a deep breath and slowly worked his way back down the road until he could no longer hear Mrs. Franks’ screams. He reported in to Janey and me, giving us an over view of the situation. Janey then radioed back to Desert-1 and told them of what was happening.

OMT insisted that he would handle the situation and that under no circumstances should anyone else come up the road until he contacted them again. He was going to leave the radio in the woods so that only he would be using it. He told us to sit and wait and if we didn’t hear from him within an hour we were to leave, join up with Mrs. Driscol and head on out. After fifteen minutes of discussion between me and Janey we decided that we had better check this out ourselves. We checked our rifles and letting Mrs. Driscol know we were going radio silent for a bit we headed up the road. I wasn’t sure if what OMT had told us was a complete lie or not, but we had to know, and if it was all a lie I was going to shoot OMT myself.

OMT circled around to the back of the house, the ‘music’ had progressed to some ballad about a hotel or a motel or something but the sound worked to OMT’s advantage. He gathered up a pile of dry leaves and twigs and set them on the back porch. He lit a cigarette and then folded a match book around it. He nestled it into the pile and then slipped back into the shadows and waited. He didn’t have long to wait, the cigarette slowly burned down to the matches and lit them. He had seen the trick in a movie years ago and sure enough it worked. The flames caught and soon thick black smoke rose and filled the awning of the back porch. The clouds billowed into the back of the house and soon there was screaming and commotion from inside.

Two men and two women stumbled onto the back porch. OMT sighted carefully on the one furthest back in the group, took a deep breath and held it, he squeezed the trigger. The back of droopy pants’ head exploded and sprayed bits of brain and blood over fat girl’s face. He worked the bolt; fat girl had started to scream but hadn’t got out of the way. The old guy shoved her clear and was half way through the door when OMT’s second round caught him between the shoulder blades. Before he could squeeze off a third round both women had ran into the house, the thin one pulling fat girl in behind her, the remnants of the smoke flowing about them like a cloak. He sighed and circled around to the front of the house.

Janey and I were in the shadows on the outside of the circle drive, they had seen Mr. Franks just has OMT has described but that didn’t prove anything to me. Suddenly we heard screaming and then two rifle shots. I started to head towards the door but Janey put a hand on my arm and whispered “wait.” So we did but both of us shouldered our M-16s. Pretty soon the two black women came running from the house, one held a shiny pistol in her hand and was waving it around, she was crying and she was screaming something about “Dimonte.” The bigger one looked like she was in shock. Johnny didn’t do anything but Janey did. A three round burst from her M-16 cut the heavy one down. At least one round had found its mark.

Suddenly automatic fire threw up sprays of dirt around us, a man on the porch held a fully automatic Tec 9 in one hand, the first few rounds hit low the others went high as the barrel rose and he continued to pull the trigger. Janey and I kept our heads down when suddenly the rapid fire blasts of the Tec 9 were permanently interrupted by one of OMT’s .41 colts. The bullet caught him under the arm pit, pierced both lungs and the path of the bullet must have left the major arteries looking like a tangled mess of ramen noodles in pink lemonade. The man was dead before he flipped over the porch railing to the ground.

Suddenly Mrs. Franks appeared in the door way, she was held in place by a very muscular arm attached to an unseen body. She was trembling and things instantly slowed down. Janey and I both waited and when it became apparent that we were not going to shoot her, ‘muscles’ made his appearance, he pulled Mrs. Franks in front of him, his powerful left arm moved around her throat, a Glock 9mm pistol in his right hand was pointed at her head. The tall, powerful man’s eyes were wide and he was screaming something but his voice was so low and he mumbled so badly that what came out sounded a bit like

“FREEZMUTHAFUDDER R ISHOSHDISBEECH!”

Janey and I stayed where we were. The big man yelled at the surviving woman to get the Tec 9 and head to the Escalade. She obeyed and headed that way, the big man’s teeth gleamed metallic and golden in the dark light and he gathered himself, regaining control.

“STAN UP YOU MUDDERS!” he commanded.

Muscles moved to the bottom of the steps, Mrs. Franks sobbing in his grasp.

“DO IT!” he yelled, a smile crossing his lips.

Apparently muscles had not realized that Janey and I were not alone. Janey whispered to me to run and she stood up, I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I wouldn’t leave her or anyone of us. So I stood up beside her, when ‘Muscles’ moved the pistol from Mrs. Frank’s temple he pointed it at us and I felt my own urine run down my pants. That was when OMT tackled ‘Muscles’ from the side and the pistol flew from his grasp. I lifted my rifle and pointed it at them but OMT, Mrs. Franks and ‘Muscles’ were too tangled up for me to get a shot. Janey took her rifle and ran towards the woman who was sitting in the front seat of the Escalade. She pointed her barrel into the woman’s face and told her not to move. Her mouth hung open in shock and she was trembling as she released the Tec 9 and it fell to the floorboards of the luxury vehicle.

Janey yelled to me, to help OMT and I headed that way, ‘Muscles’ had youth, strength and height on his side, OMT had surprise, sixty pounds and a bad back. They traded blows as they rolled across the lawn, the black man was screaming curses but OMT said nothing, he had his face buried in the taller man’s chest, protecting his own throat. ‘Muscles’ was winning, I knew that if he killed OMT I would kill him, what I was unsure of was what I might do if OMT won. There was a distinct possibility I might shoot him as well. Somewhere in the back of my mind I could hear Janey yelling at me but I just couldn’t do anything. I just stood there and watched them fight. Suddenly ‘Muscles’ was on top and he had both hands around OMT’s throat, choking him. I thought it was over but it seemed OMT had one other thing going for him, he cheats. OMT arched his back and raised himself up off the ground just a bit and then he rolled to one side hard. Muscles still held onto OMT’s throat but it seemed that it had lost some effectiveness as he hit the ground and lost some of his breath. OMT had lowered his chin onto his own chest as hard as he could; this made it difficult for the younger man to get his thumbs across his wind pipe. ‘Muscles’ screamed in agony as OMT drove his thumbs into his eyes, he pressed hard, then harder and blood sprayed from both of his eye sockets. OMT gouged out both of the younger man’s eyes, Muscles released OMT’s throat and grasped at the gaping eye sockets and when he did, OMT drove his right knee repeatedly into the man’s crotch.

It was over, OMT staggered to his feet, the other man rolled on the ground screaming. OMT reached down and picked up his colt from where it had fallen. He walked back over to the man writhing on the ground, he held him in place with one huge boot, the black lady in the car screamed “NOOO!” but before she could even finish the single word OMT blew the man’s brains out, the heavy bullet causing the head to come apart. I stood there, disbelief in my eyes, I had seen death over the last 8 days, I had shot and killed creatures that had once been people. But I had not seen anything like this; all I could do was wonder if that was how he had shot my mother. I raised the rifle and pointed at Old Man Tucker.

He turned to face me, he was wobbly and the revolver hung loosely at his side. He looked surprised when he saw my gun and he froze.

“John, are you going to shoot me?”

He asked in a strange gravelly voice. He didn’t sound frightened, or even sad, just tired. It was like it was what he wanted.

“YOU SHOT MY MOM.”

I said through gritted teeth. He sighed and lowered his head, his eyes fixed on the ground. He didn’t deny it, he didn’t beg, he didn’t say anything, so I did.

“WHY DID YOU KILL MY MOM? SHE WAS YOUR FRIEND! SHE STOOD UP FOR YOU WHEN NO ONE ELSE DID AND SHE MADE YOU OLD PIE! YOU KNOW WHAT? EVERYONE ELSE WAS RIGHT! YOU ARE A PSYCHO AND A FREAK AND IT’S ALL YOU’RE FAULT! I HATE YOU! ”

Then there was a gentle touch on my shoulder, it was Mrs. Franks. She spoke quietly, softly,

“Johnny, Mr. Tucker isn’t crazy, he just does what he has to do. I may not know what happened to your Mom, but I know that much about him.”

I was unable to speak, the tip of my rifle trembling in time with my sobs. Mrs. Franks slowly reached up and put her other hand on the barrel of my rifle. She gently pushed it down towards the ground. I let her do it. I spat at Old Man Tucker,

“I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!”

I took the revolvers he had given me and Billy from their holsters and threw them to the ground. Old Man Tucker didn’t look at me, he just walked over to the front porch steps and sat down and held his head in his hands.

Mrs. Franks said that there was no one else in the house so after we freed Mr. Franks, Janey asked me what I thought we should do. I said we needed to call Mrs. Driscol and get the rest of the group over here. She asked OMT where his radio was but got no response.

“Johnny, I need to get back to the SUV and call Amy but I don’t want to go alone. Will you go with me?”

I looked over at Mr. Franks who seemed so broken and helpless but Mrs. Franks said that it would be okay. I wasn’t sure but I finally agreed. First thing we did was put the chain on the black woman who kept crying about her best friend and her boyfriend. We left her shackled to the same flag pole that Mr. Franks had been. Mr. and Mrs. Franks supported each other as they limped into the building. Janey and I took the Escalade and drove it down the road to where we had hidden the SUV and made the call back to the group.

It was 20 minutes or so before we saw the lights of the Humvee pull into the private drive. They stopped and everyone got out and hugged us. Mrs. Driscol was furious when she found out what Janey and I had done but she seemed relieved that we were safe. We car pooled, Janey drove the Escalade, Mrs. Driscol drove the Humvee and Elaine, Lucy and I rode in the SUV. It wasn’t but a few minutes before we pulled into the circle drive. Old Man Tucker was nowhere to be seen, nor were any of the bodies as a matter of fact, but there was still blood stains everywhere. The chain that had shackled the black girl lay loose on the ground, no sign of the captive. It made me nervous as we started up the steps; Mrs. Driscol met us at the door, she was wearing pants, something I was happy about. We entered the great hall and Mr. Franks was on the couch.

“Where is Old Man Tucker?” I asked.

She looked uncomfortable but said that he was moving some bodies off of the back porch.

“And where is our prisoner?” Janey asked.

This time there was no response. Mrs. Driscol had to ask but as an answer all we got was

“Amy, they did things to me, to Steve, all of them, not just the men.”

Mrs. Franks was trying to tell us something. Mrs. Driscol took her hands in hers. “Karen, where is the girl?” Mrs. Franks lowered her eyes and said

“Mr. Tucker took her into the woods.” Mrs. Driscol looked confused,

“I thought you said he was moving bodies?” Mrs. Franks silently nodded.

Janey started off towards the back of the house, going through the kitchen, Mrs. Driscol and I followed. The smell of wood smoke filled the room but when we went out onto the back porch all we could see was OMT, he was dragging the last of the corpses into the woods.

“Where is she, Mr. Tucker?” Janey asked.

He looked up from his chore, made eye contact then nodded in the direction he was dragging ‘saggy pants’. Janey raced ahead and we followed, OMT coming along at his own pace. Thirty yards from the house we found the bodies. They were in a heap and they were all there, even the girl we had taken prisoner. Her eyes bulged so they practically were escaping from her sockets, her mouth frozen open in terror and her lifeless hands seeming to still be grasping at the length of clothes line around her neck.

“Oh my God.” was all Mrs. Driscol said.

OMT appeared and drug the last corpse onto the pile, he didn’t say anything, and he just turned and walked back towards the lodge. We stood there looking at the butcher’s yard, the handiwork of a mad man. I said aloud

“I should have shot him when I had the chance.”

This time no one said anything.